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Backpacking
There's a reason why hikers get wide-eyed and eager when they hear "Grayson Highlands." There's a reason why those who have been before return time and again, and why those who haven't been are encouraged to go as soon as they can. Ponies! Balds! Easy hiking! PONIES!
Neusiok Trail, Croatan National Forest - Leading up to my trip I really thought I was going to walk into a Lost Colony sort of scenario and just disappear into unknown woods. My efforts to research the trail and plan my overnights had just been one big "404 Not Found" love fest. "Click here for a link to a map!" 404 Not Found. "Click here for directions to the trail head!" 404 Not Found. "Click here for shuttle information!" 404 Not Found. But my backpacking NC book and Mountains-to-Sea Trail book encouraged me to go ahead and just explore.
"Hmm, do you think replacing my 10-mile long run with a 22-mile backpacking trip this weekend will be sufficient?" Based on how my legs feel (the words "ow" and "jelly" come to mind) I'd say yes! Of course running 10 miles is a completely different mental experience than backpacking 10 miles. Or is it? Here are a few things the two activities have in common.
If anyone, especially me, ever asks you if you want to backpack the highest peak east of the Mississippi in cold, persistent rain, make sure your answer is “HELL NO.”
If you do a Google search for “Art Loeb Trail” you’ll find all sorts of blog posts by people who decided to go on a hike or a trail run in the wilderness and totally got their butts kicked. This blog post is no exception.
Gatlinburg was crazy. Imagine Disney World covered in camo, $6 parking and Ripley’s Believe It or Not. But my stomach was empty and my camera batteries were dead and I just wanted a quick recharge at a fast food place where I wouldn’t bother anyone or be bothered, so I ventured down from a long sunset at Clingmans Dome in Great Smoky Mountains National Park through the dark twisting mountain path into the bright lights of the valley. A gas station and big sign proclaiming “GATLINBURG: Gateway to the Smoky Mountains” bedazzled me when I emerged from the forest and it took me several minutes to get my wits together.
My first solo hike - from Rock Gap to Wayah Shelter and back on the Appalachian Trail - was a search for solitude and the perfect quiet campsite.
Morning broke clear and crisp. There was no shelter from the light on top of the bald, so as soon as the sun crested the eastern ridge and blazed full and harsh on our campsite I was awake. Despite the brightness, there was a bitter chill and I wrestled with my sleeping bag before finally unzipping myself from its warm cocoon and stumbling out of the tent.
