Day after day here in Marion, we have the opportunity to look up and gaze at the jagged boreal spine of Appalachia’s highest ridge. A staff member at school told me a week or so ago that she saw it was snowing hard on Mt. Mitchell. I asked her if she got this information on a radar or weather cam. “No,” she said. “I just looked up when I was driving to work.”
Sometimes I forget to just look up.
Looking up, Mohammed, Uwharrie and I set out on Saturday for a double traverse of the Black Mountain Crest. We started at 8:30AM from Mt. Mitchell Campground with intentions of speed hiking to Bowlens Creek and back in one day: 34 miles, 12,000’ climbing. I hoped to finish the trek in 12 hours, before dark. Mo and I carried our fully loaded BMT packs.
We dodged a coiled rattlesnake as we ascended close to 4000’ out of the lush South Toe valley and back into early spring. We were on the summit of Mitchell in less than two hours and at Deep Gap by noon. The weather was warm and sunny and we were moving really well. But by the time we pounded our way down into the vernal paradise of Bowlens Creek, the gravity of this workout had set in. We were at the turn-around in five and a half hours.
The hardest climb of the day back up Celo Knob was made harder by a double whammy of forgetfulness on my part. About a quarter mile up the trail, I realized that I had forgotten my handy hiking stick. So I turned around to retrieve it. Then, after half a mile uphill, I realized I had forgotten my handy hat. Back down I went again.
Thunder rumbled above the rushing sound of creek water. As we plodded up toward the crest, a refreshing rain fell upon us. The storm was nice and cool for the climb, but had me concerned about the conditions we’d encounter higher up. Before we reached the ridge, the thundershower had passed. An unstable horizon promised more to come.
Clouds danced through the spruce trees. I thought: here is a sacred spot where both cloud and spruce rule. We kept trudging through the mostly barren highlands with the wind to our side. On occasion, a window with a view down upon the green valleys far below would briefly open.
We opted to take Big Tom Gap Trail to the Buncombe Horse Trail and bypass Craig and Mitchell on the return. Although close to the same distance, this route saved us from 1000’ of climbing. As such, we made it back to Black Mountain Campground by 8PM. There was enough daylight to soak the legs in the river and cook the dinner that I had carried in my pack. That night, Mo and I tested our sleeping/shelter gear for the BMT.
Sunday morning, Mo asked if I’d be up to doing this all over again, and again… We’ll see.
*=revised estimate based on BMT profile
Day after day here in Marion, we have the opportunity to look up and gaze at the jagged boreal spine of Appalachia’s highest ridge. A staff member at school told me a week or so ago that she saw it was snowing hard on Mt. Mitchell. I asked her if she got this information on a radar or weather cam. “No,” she said. “I just looked up when I was driving to work.”
The hardest climb of the day back up Celo Knob was made harder by a double whammy of forgetfulness on my part. About a quarter mile up the trail, I realized that I had forgotten my handy hiking stick. So I turned around to retrieve it. Then, after half a mile uphill, I realized I had forgotten my handy hat. Back down I went again.
