Smokies Days 4 and 5

We made the scenic drive on TN-32 out of Deep Creek, happy to be off our feet for a while. Mary remarked "look, we're going so FAST!" 32 is one of those roads that makes you question the engineers that had the nerve to design a road in this manor. Either that, or praise their competency in crafting a route through the mountains that saved us a trip on the Interstate. Conspicuously lacking guard rails, the road is not only never straight, it is rarely level from side to side. The 35 mph speed limit seems like a joke. Who could handle these hairpin turns any faster?

Eventually the road hooked up with the parkway and we cruised into Gatlinburg. As excited as we were for showers and a comfortable bed, we were dreading the experience of visiting the greatest tourist trap ever created. Gatlinburg has more ways to waste an unwise tourist's money than any place I've been unlucky enough to see. Haunted houses, Ripley's believe it or nots , magic shows, carnival games and freak shows line the streets of this eyesore. At Cosby Knob we had asked two thru-hikers what the oddest thing they had seen in their month on the trail was. After some consideration, they both agreed: Gatlinburg.

We found a reasonably-priced hotel room, and took full advantage of hot showers, scrubbing off the mud that was caked onto our bodies. Gatlinburg does have a couple of restaurants worth braving the sea of tourists. For dinner we hit the Mellow Mushroom. This pizza joint is in my top 5, and also has a huge draft beer selection. In the morning we visited the Pancake Pantry for breakfast. With a line that sometimes wraps around the block, Pancake Pantry is very popular, and for good reason. They specialize in giant plate sized orders of Crepes. We split the raspberry peach Crepes.

Having satisfied our cravings, we eagerly fled Gatlinburg and returned to the National Park. We couldn't quite bring ourselves to strap the backpacks on again so soon, so we elected for a front country campsite. Elkmont campground is run on a first-come, first-served basis this time of year and we had no trouble securing a campsite. We set up our new tent and organized our gear for some day hikes. Our site provided views of both the mountains and a pleasant, babbling stream that fed the Little River.

We decided to take advantage of the proximity of the Little River trailhead and take a pleasant stroll up the Little River trail. Our hike followed the raging creek up-stream for three miles, past countless waterfalls joining the creek from both sides of the ravine. The skies were partly cloudy and the air crisp and cool, probably in the low 50's. There was something very relaxing about not being in a hurry and having time to absorb the tranquility of the forest. A few brave wildflowers were beginning to appear on the hillsides, proof that spring was actually coming.

We ate our lunch on a couple of large rocks on the riverbank, doing our best to ignore the family that decided the best way they could enjoy nature was to lob rocks into the creek.

After our hike we heated up some dehydrated Mac and cheese for dinner. The campground was less than half-full and a laid-back atmosphere permeated the place. Obviously the type of folks camping in this cold spring weather are more likely to be mellow, seeking a quiet experience in nature.

We crawled into our down sleeping bags and opened our books. Mary quipped that I looked like a happy caterpillar in my sleeping bag. Funny as the comment was, it was a true. I couldn't imagine a more comfortable place in the world. The quiet of the woods was only broken by the soft music from our neighbor's campsite: Mumford and Sons, Avette Brothers, The Civil Wars - good taste!

Shortly before we turned off our headlamps the call of a barred owl sounded through the campground. It was quickly answered from across the river, and for the next few minutes we were treated to a cacophony of hoots and howls. It sounded like they were having a party in the woods.

In the morning we slept in, avoiding the cold morning air in favor of our warm sleeping bags. When we finally crawled out of the tent we were greeted by blue skies, warming sunshine and birdsong. We cooked up some oatmeal and coffee while planning our day. We elected for the Abrams Falls trail. I had avoided this hike due to its popularity, but now seemed like a good time to try it out. The trails in higher elevations would be an absolute mess with all of that snow melt, and any trail with a noteworthy stream crossing would be out.

The hike was beautiful, but beyond crowded. In multiple places we had to stop and wait for the traffic jam in front of us to clear to proceed. The trail followed beautiful Abrams Creek for 2.5 miles, occasionally climbing a few hundred feet above the water, offering views of the low ridges west of Cades Cove. The falls themselves were impressive. A single drop of probably 20 feet, Abrams Falls carried a high volume of water, providing for an impressive water show. A sign on the riverbank warned that there have been five deaths in the falls. We ate our lunch by the falls before making the return hike.

After arriving back at the trailhead we drove back into town to a convenience store for some cold beverages and a bag of potato chips. We enjoyed hot soup with our chips and beer at our campsite. Jealous of our neighbors campfire, we decided to splurge on a bundle of wood from the camp store. The wood was dry and burned quickly, offering a chance to warm up before we hopped into our sleeping bags. Just as the fire was burning out Mary spotted a bird gliding silently beneath the trees in the campground. One of the Barred Owls we had heard the night before landed in a tree near us. I always feel thrilled when I'm lucky enough to see these mysterious creatures in the wild. The owls would continue to talk throughout the night.
We returned to our sleeping bags and our books ready for another quiet night in the forest.

Smokies Day 3

Our second night at the Cosby Knob shelter was spent with a large, raucous group of young AT thru-hikers. Mary was the only female hiker for the night. When that much testosterone congregates in one place, particularly when that place is a cold, dank shelter in the woods, there is a propensity for hilarity and a bit of vulgarity. We were well entertained throughout the stay with the stories, jokes and antics of the thru-hikers. All of them had just come through the snowed-in high country during one of the worst spring snow storms in memory. Not one of them had a dry piece of clothing or gear left.

We had barely crawled into our sleeping bags before rain and gusts of wind began to pound on the shelter. I was relieved to be in a shelter in these conditions.

In the morning we were greeted by bright sunshine and bluebird skies. Most of the snow had melted during the night leaving behind a much more welcoming environment than the one we had gone to sleep in. We lazed around the shelter enjoying multiple cups of coffee while listening to the tales of the thru-hikers. We had decided to hike back to Big Creek and our Jeep. The rugged hiking across the snow-covered terrain in soggy boots had beaten me up more than I expected. My feet were sore and threatening to blister, and my pack had started to leave welts where it was rubbing on my hips.

The hike back down to Big Creek was more spectacular than on the way up. The heavy rain during the night and the snow melt above had brought every stream and creek overflowing its banks. The Smokies are a temperate rain forest, and it was easy to see why on this day. Water seemed to leap down the mountainside in all directions. The show became even more impressive at Walnut Bottoms. Big Creek had turned into a raging whitewater show.

Mary and I are beginning level white water kayakers, having taken a couple of classes. We were in the process of evaluating the possible lines for running the myriad of rapids when we passed three kayakers getting ready to launch from the riverbank. Watching these kayakers run the raging river was a real treat. All three of them flipped after the first big drop and nailed their rolls right away. They were obviously very good.

We reached the trailhead just as the skies began to turn gray and sprinkles started to fall. We threw the packs in the back if the Jeep and headed for a hotel. We'll take a night off in civilization before heading back into the park. This backcountry trip was unlike any other I've taken.

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!"

Smokies Trip Planning

Blog Post March 19, 2013

While the world outside our home in Michigan is still wrapped in winter’s icy grip of death, our first backpacking trip of the season is drawing near!  Ten days from tomorrow we will depart in the early morning hours and begin the half-a-day drive to the mountains of Tennessee.  Our new tent arrived in the mail today, and soon we’ll be planning and shopping for our meals during the hike.  I thought today would be a good day to provide some of the details about our trip plan. 

We’ll depart from the Big Creek Campground in the northeast corner of the park.  We were planning to camp right at Big Creek Campground the night before our hike began, but the combination of federal sequester cuts and a late spring has pushed back the opening date for a number of front-country campgrounds, Big Creek included.  We did some online shopping and found a cheap hotel in nearby Newport, TN, putting us only a thirty-minute drive from the trailhead.  The hotel will have the added bonus of letting us watch our Michigan State Spartans play in the sweet sixteen of the NCAA tournament if they make it that far.

Our first day of hiking we’ll follow the Big Creek for several miles, before making the steep climb at Low Gap to joint the Appalachian Trail, a climb of 3,000 feet over 8.4 miles.  Since this will be our first day hiking with packs on since last summer, and our packs will be at their heaviest with 7 days worth of food, this promises to be a rugged day.  We’ll at least have the comforts of a shelter to look forward to that night, with reservations at Cosby Knob Shelter.

We’ll spend the next couple of days marching counter to the AT thru-hikers making their way north.  At Peck’s Corner we’ll drop off of the crest of the Smokies and follow the Hughes Ridge Trail down to Enloe Creek.  This day presents our only significant stream crossing of the trip.  We’ll camp at Enloe Creek, and then make another grueling climb up to Laurel Gap, where another shelter will await us. 

Our last full day of hiking will take us up the ridge of Mount Sterling to the summit, where we’ll spend our last night hopefully watching the sunset from the fire tower.  We’ll make a quick 4,000 foot decent down the Baxter Creek Trail the last morning, returning to Big Creek.  I’m sure we’ll be ready for hot showers and cold beverages by then!

In all, our itinerary will take us from a starting elevation of 1,700 feet to high points of 5,920 and 5,820 at separate points.  We’ll follow several mountains streams, hopefully catch a glimpse of some spring flowers and take in some stunning vistas from the high country.  Now it’s just time to start crossing our fingers for some warmer temps and clear skies…never a guarantee in the mountains in April.

Eulogy For a Tent

I can still remember the first time I got into it.  The tent had been a birthday gift from Mary in January, but we waited until we had a sleeping bag and pad that fit before we tried it out.  It was a couple of weeks before our first backcountry trip when the two-person, down filled bag arrived in the mail.  We decided to set the Marmot Earlylight backpacking tent in the living room of our apartment just to try it out.  It was a 2 person tent, provided the two people really liked each other, a domed tent with pumpkin orange sides and an entirely screen top.  With the rain fly off, it provided great site lines in all directions.  Our Big Agnes 2 person sleeping bag fit perfectly.  I was able to lie on my back and extend my legs completely without pushing against the far wall.  I remember us laying there in our apartment, trying to imagine what it would be like sleeping on a mountain, our two cats peering in curiously from outside the new contraption.

The first voyage was quite a bit less cozy.  We spent the inaugural night in our new digs on an exposed ridge in Shenandoah National Park during a severe thunderstorm.  The winds howled in ever increasing gusts that threatened to tear the tent in two.  We cowered inside; imagining every noise in the dark of the woods was a bloodthirsty bear stalking towards us.  Needless to say, we didn’t sleep a wink!

We would go on to have better nights in the Marmot tent.  Some of my favorites: sleeping beneath the towering mass of Rising Wolf Mountain in Glacier National Park, watching the sun melt into the horizon from the summit of Killington on the Long Trail in Vermont, waiting out days worth of rain in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota, the rain eventually soaking our every piece of equipment.  On Isle Royale, camped at East Chickenbone Lake, we listened to a pair of Great Horned Owls call back and forth over our tent.  At Seawall Campground in Acadia National Park, our tent was shelter from a terrifying storm that blasted the Atlantic Coast, taking two lives in neighboring New Hampshire. 

In all we’ve spent over a hundred nights in the Marmot Earlylight.  It’s been our home away from home in the north woods of Canada, the mountains of Appalachia and along many a lakeshore.  I can’t help but wonder how many woodland critters have scurried or lumbered past it, pausing to sniff its contents while we slept. 

It has been a good tent, but its time has come and gone.  Holes have appeared in the screen, an unforgivable weakness during mosquito season!  Nostalgia aside, I am always eager to pick out new gear and take advantage of advances in technology.  That said, our next tent may be lighter and may be roomier, but it will have a lot of nights to log to catch up to this one!