Smokies Day 2

Last night was a long, cold night of tossing and turning, although our winter bags kept us warm enough. Heavy rain pounded the tin roof of the shelter for several hours. The thru-hikers staying there were up and at it early, so we had the shelter to ourselves for breakfast. The skies cleared up a bit by the time we started hiking.

The hike started innocently enough. The trail climbed up to Ross Notch, which afforded spectacular 360 degree views. The mountains stretched endlessly in every direction, with patches of thick, white cloud drifting over the landscape. The surrounding hillsides had patchy snow lingering, but the trail was only muddy so far. After the Knob we dropped down to Camel Notch and a trail junction. We stopped for our first break here. Several AT hikers passed by while we rested. They all had dire news about what lay ahead: A raging river of liquid ice crashing right down the trail. Several of them mentioned that they were afraid they were going to lose toes in the process. One lady from New Hampshire said it was the coldest water she had ever felt. With each comment I could see Mary give me that raised-eyebrow look. Still, I wanted to press on.

The trail climbed steadily, and the further we went, the deeper the snow was we were climbing through. I think I would have preferred cold, frozen snow to the quickly melting muck we were in. It was impossible to keep our boots from getting soaked. As we approached 6,000 feet of elevation the views became truly spectacular. We had unbroken views to the East to the Mount Sterling Ridge. Mostly covered in white, it looked like something out of our ski trips to the East.

We took our lunch break before Mount Guyot. While we ate we listened to more horror stories from northbound hikers about the knee-deep ice water covering the trail ahead. All the while thick clouds of mist seemed to close in around the ridge. It was at this moment that I began to grasp the severity of our situation. We were cold and tired, sitting in deep snow, preparing to climb several hundred more feet before reaching our next shelter, which promised to be cold and snowed-in. As I finished my peanut butter wrap I realized suddenly that I was trembling from the cold. The idea of climbing higher in the suddenly chilling air was pretty unappealing. Mary was relieved to hear me suggest cutting our losses and returning the way we came.

We hiked quickly, eager for our body heat to kick in. The trail descended rapidly , and the air warmed as we walked. It seemed like just as the panic over the cold was subsiding, it began to rain. Big, hard drops of rain pelted us for the next two hours as we scurried towards Cosby Knob and a dry place to sleep. The rain aligned with the melting snow to turn the trail into a river. I've done a lot of hiking, and I don't think I've ever been so cold and miserable as I was today.

We reached the shelter and were elated to find there still was room for us. We got changed into dry clothes, had some hot soup and coffee and crawled into our sleeping bags, relieved the ordeal of the day had ended.

We're not sure what our next destination will be, but I'm certain it will avoid the cold and snowy higher elevations of the park for now. I had a coworker who once said "sometimes discretion is the better part of valor." I'm confident we made the wise choice today in getting out of the high country when we did. There is still plenty of park to explore!

Smokies Day 1

We had set the alarm for 8 am this morning, hoping to get a good night of sleep before a long day of hiking. When I pulled back the curtains to our hotel room I was disappointed to find gray skies and light rain. The mountains were completely obscured by low lying clouds and fog. When I checked my twitter I found more bad news. The high country had gotten 5 more inches of snow during the night. Newfound Gap road was closed, and a tweet from the park service said that only experienced hikers should attempt travel in the higher elevations.

By the time we had both showered, dressed and loaded the packs into the Jeep the rain had stopped and the skies lightened a bit. The free hotel breakfast had already ended (who ends a breakfast before 10 am?!), so we hit up the Waffle House next door for some delicious and greasy fare.

By 10:15 am we were on the road. Our nervousness was overtaken by excitement as towering mountains and a raging river both came into view. Our fears were further assuaged by a crowded parking lot at the trailhead. Apparently we weren't the only ones heading out today. The skies had cleared considerably by now, and the sun was streaming through the tall stands of still-bare deciduous trees. We were on the trail at 11am sharp.

My pack was heavier than I would have liked, and I could feel it dragging my shoulders down as I trugged up hill. Hopefully it will feel lighter after we eat some of this food. The trail followed Big Creek for most of the way to Walnut Bottoms Campground, and put on a spectacular show. The freshly melted snow ran a brilliant shade of blue, almost like the glacier fed lakes we've seen in Montana. It crashed over an endless series of waterfalls throughout its path out of the mountains.

The trail was crowded with hikers, most of them on day hikes. One couple moved at the same speed as us, providing the opportunity for pleasant conversation that distracted from the uphill climb. They were retired ex-military from Florida on a 1 year tour of America's National Parks. Talk about a dream vacation! They were both delightful to talk to, although the man provided a less than ideal report on the conditions higher up. They had climbed to the Mt. Cammerer fire tower the previous day and found snow over a foot deep. This was not the news we were hoping for.

We stopped for lunch at the Walnut Bottoms Campground, relaxing in the sun on a large wooden bridge over the creek. This might be the most appealing campground in the Smokies. I would highly recommend it to anyone on a shorter backpack. A couple of horse parties passed by while we ate. Two of the horses forded the steam, an impressive trick to witness, and one I'm sure to be jealous of the next time I have to wade a steam.

After lunch the trail began climbing much more steeply. Big Creek fell further and further beneath us, it's roar still audible for a while. Scattered snow began to appear on the hillsides, but the trail remained dry. Trails in the Smokies all seem to follow the same principles. They follow the path of least resistance, much like rivers, and climb gradually up ridges. The result of this is that a hiker is made to feel as if he is in a wooded maze. Approaching each blind corner on the trail holds the promise that the scenery will change. Rounding the bend and finding more of the same is the usual result. After hours of this, we would sometimes wonder if the ridge ever stopped climbing. We were both overjoyed when the end finally came into sight. Low Gap appeared before us, and for the first time we had views to the East and the West. We were out of the maze.

We stopped to take pictures and eat granola bars at the junction before heading south on the Appalachian Trail. As we climbed the crest of the Smokies we found more and more snow. In the places where the snow was melted, the trail was a soup of mud and water. It was slow going picking our way through this mess. Eventually, we arrived at Cosby Knob Shelter.

We were delighted to learn that the ridge runner working this shelter was the same man from our last Smokies hike! Billy is a former AT thru hiker, and really knowledgable about the area. He was working when the winter storm blew through last week. He showed us pictures on his phone that looked like something out of an Everest Expedition. I'm glad we weren't here any earlier in the week. Billy said that there were reservations for 8 parties in the shelter tonight that weren't AT thru hikers. Of the 8, we were the only ones staying the night. Most were no shows, and two hikers showed up, heard about the heavy snow that lay ahead and turned around and left.

We cooked some soup and a freeze dried dinner of rice and lentils that was surprisingly tasty. The thru hikers staying here tonight are a cold, wet, miserable bunch, eager to get out of the Smokies. Everyone was in bed by 8 am. As I write this, I am tucked into my zero degree sleeping bag, feeling pretty cozy. It was a long day and there is a sense of accomplishment warming me as I prepare to turn off my head lamp and go to sleep.

Last minute preparations

We're now less than 48 hours away from leaving for the Smoky Mountains, meaning we are deep into the preparation phase. So far we've made four separate trips to grocery stores and gear shops for food shopping and last minute needs. I thought I would provide a look at how we go about packing for a trip like this.

As much as I wanted to have everything packed last week, I decided it was better to wait until closer to departure, when I could get a more accurate weather forecast. Let's just say that I"m glad I made this decision! In our previous trips to the south we've been greeted by blooming wildflowers and warm temperatures in the 70's and 80's. In fact, I've grown accustomed to packing shorts, t-shirts and even a swimsuit in the past! Last year I was able to swim in an outdoor hotel pool in Gatlinburg the day after our backpack ended. It''s looking like there won't be any need for shorts this year.

The region was hammered with a rare spring snow storm the past three days. I've been habitually checking the weather for the mountains on my Weather Channel i-phone app. The forecast has included such gems as "winter storm warning," "heavy, blowing and drifting snow," "over a foot of snow in high elevations," and "dangerous and unsafe conditions for travel." Just what everyone imagines for their spring break! The good news is that the storm had ended by last night and the forecast calls for drier and warmer conditions in the next ten days. The bad news, is that the various hiking blogs I follow online have indicated that as much as 18 inches of snow have fallen in the highest elevations, and that heavy winds have created snow drifts of over three feet! This has lead us to make a few gear decisions: zero degree winter bags (instead of our thirty degree rated, two person Big Agnes Bag we prefer), Yack Trax, wool base layers, winter hats and gloves and gaiters to assist us with breaking deep powder on the trail. The Yack Trax are metal wires with barbs that fit onto the bottom of our boots to increase our traction on snow and ice. We've used them on winter hikes before in the White Mountains and in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, but never on a backpacking trip. I'm beginning to think this is going to be one heck of an experience for us.

Knowing that the temperatures are likely to dip below freezing at night, we have decided to pack more and higher calorie foods for this trip. Digestion raises body temperature, meaning eating can be one of the most important things you do in cold weather hiking. Our meal plan looks like something like this:

-Tortilla Wraps with Cruncy Peanut Butter and Honey, Cliff Bars (high in protein), Almonds, Dried Fruit, Trail Mix (assembled from the bulk bins at the organic food store in town), and Babybel Cheese (waxed cheese can last for days not refrigerated) for lunches and snacks along the trail. This needs to be the highest calorie part of our diet,as we burn most of our energy while hiking each day.

-Instant Oatmeal with Walnuts and Dried Cranberries for breakfast, along with Starbucks Coffee. We use a drip filter to make coffee each morning. Neither of us could survive without our coffee. Considering the cold temps, we are packing extra coffee so we can have some with dinner each night if needed.

-Dehydrated Meals for dinner each night. These are very light weight and easy to prepare. They only pack a couple hundred calories, but will give us that full feeling before bed each night, plus hot food is comforting after a long day on the trail. We also packed a couple of 65% cacoa chocolate bars for desert. These bars are great because they don't melt, even in warm temperatures, and you only need a couple of squares to feel satisfied.

Our backpacks are packed (at least for now) and we are eagerly counting down the hours until we leave. We'll likely unpack and repack several times in pursuit of the best arrangement of gear. At the point at which everything is scattered throughout the house it's always hard to believe that it will all fit into two backpacks, but somehow, it always does. There is something so satisfying about being able to put everything needed to survive a week in the wild onto your back and be completely self-reliant. In our plugged-in world we are all interdependent. I often can't make it to my work in the mornings without needing to stop to purchase coffee. I'm quite looking forward to unplugging after too many months of society. It may be cold. It might snow or rain. The wind might blow. Our gear might get wet. But at least we'll be outside, listening to the sound of the wind through the trees. In the words of Bilbo "I think I'm quite ready for another adventure!"