thankful

With loved ones thousands of miles away, Uwharrie and I embarked on a marathon run across the Roan Highlands for Thanksgiving. We drove for an hour up to Yellow Mountain Gap on Wednesday afternoon to camp at the Overmountain Victory Shelter along the AT. Many hunters were out and about on this second day of deer season.

An earlier sunset meant we had little time to gather firewood to cook dinner. We hopped out of the Falcon, packed up and hiked to camp. Soon the silence, disrupted only by a crackling fire and bottle cap’s hiss of Highlands Cold Mountain Winter Ale, enveloped the evening. I relaxed in my down parka and gazed out across the valley and up into the heavens. Clouds crept in from behind Yellow Mountain.

Tossing and turning, I awoke in the predawn darkness to the sound of a cold rain. I considered our options and soon fell back into a fitful sleep. Near dawn, we packed and hiked a mile down to the car to eat a quick breakfast of bread with pumpkin butter and switch into running gear. The weather was typical mountain weather: unpredictable.


As we ran to Carvers Gap, we entered into a world of rime ice where a thick morning frost would linger all day. We encountered a few more hunters who appeared frozen to the tundra in thick camouflage ponchos and blaze orange caps. The skies soon parted and early morning sunbeams exploded onto thousands of herbaceous ice chandeliers, a glorious sight. We had made it to Carvers Gap, 5.5 miles in just over an hour, destined for a good day.

Our out-and-back route would explore the way The Dogs and Cats had accessed Roan High Bluff from 226. My plan was to somehow find our way down to Broad Branch Rd. then retrace our steps to summit three 6ers on the return trip. Thanks to Mark and Anne, I had a fairly good idea of how to go despite my crummy map.


We followed the Cloudland Trail out to the High Bluff in what was indeed a land of clouds. Here atop the Bluff, I pondered the feasibility of bushwhacking south down the steep ridge. Surveying the thick spruce and ice-encrusted cliffs, I promptly thought better of it. We backtracked on the Cloudland Trail for less than a quarter mile and then bushwhacked east hoping for a fire road. We soon joined the road, leaving it at a switchback to make our way into the Broad Branch basin.

In three hours we had hit pavement on Broad Branch Road. A fellow from the development that we had trespassed through cautioned me about hunters. I wished I had something orange to wear. I found some pink flagging and tied it around my head. Now definitely a target, I clicked my stopwatch and we started back up 3000’ or so to the Bluff. In an hour and a half, we were there.


The visibility had improved dramatically, we enjoyed the panorama and marveled at what we had just gone down and come back up. The wind made loitering here unpleasant, so we hurried on to Roan High Knob. A few folks were out and about enjoying a beautiful holiday in the highlands. Here we filled up with spring water before traversing over to Grassy Ridge Bald. I clicked my stopwatch for a 2:55 split from Broad Branch Rd.

We lingered for a bit longer to enjoy the wonderful views from our last summit of the day. I savored some honey stinger chews and then we took off down the trail to return to the car in just over 7 hours. I’m thankful we made it back safely and didn’t get shot. I’m thankful for a healthy body and the privilege to live in the Southern Appalachians. I’m thankful for all my friends and family and their continual love and support.

sneak-a-peak

On Veterans Day, my dad, Scott, Carl and I set out to traverse the Black Mountains from Bowlens Creek to Cane River Gap, bagging ten of the SB6K peaks along the way. We rendezvoused and camped out at Cane River Gap on Tuesday night in questionable weather as the remnants of a tropical storm slowly scraped across the Appalachians.

For better or worse, we all decided to commit to this real Black Mountain Marathon and took off up the first 3000’+ climb the next morning. The Crest trail was a creek in many places. It continued to rain with no end in sight as we topped out on Celo, our first peak. We laughed and carried on in good company and high spirits to Gibbs, Winterstar, Cattail, Balsam Cone, Craig…







By the time we reached the evacuated summit of Mitchell, our crew was in various stages of discomfort. The wind had picked up, and it continued to rain. A sheltered thermometer on Mitchell indicated it was 35* F. No doubt, we were in dangerous conditions. We continued on to Hallback, which was to become our last 6er of the day. By this point, manual dexterity had failed so much that it had become difficult for us to hold up eight fingers to report our tally.

We descended to Steppes Gap and sought temporary shelter in an unlocked restroom at the ranger station. Here a unanimous decision was made to omit the last two summits and take the Wilson Boundary Rd. to Balsam Gap and the Big Butt Trail to Cane River Gap. We finished the 26-28 mile trek in something like 9 hours. Believe it or not, this endeavor was a lot of fun and helped boost my respect for what some cats have done.


Scott hung out in Marion for the remainder of the week. His presence helped me get out and running more than usual. On Saturday, Uwharrie and I caught a lift from him up to Adam’s 4th annual Gobbler 50K. There was a great gathering of 30+ runners. Adam’s fun runs continually get better and better.

We were gifted with a warm, sunny day to enjoy the smooth trails of Bent Creek; all this came as quite a contrast to Wednesday. We finished in under 4.5 hours. Mike helped me get back to Marion after the obligatory communal feast at Papas and Beer, which is not quite like Jalapenos. If you’re in the area, check out this fabulous restaurant!

if i only had a brain

As the cold weather arrives, I’ve been pondering how to travel on longer wilderness adventures safely and comfortably without adding much bulk and weight to the pack. Mo and Greg got me tuned back into these “miracle of science” suits.

A thought crossed my mind in my waking hours this morning: what about an insulated suit for an unplanned bivy? And what about integrating primitive survival skills for shelter with this 21st century technology?

What we have here is a potentially useful garment for about 1 pound, 10 bucks and 10 minutes of time. The concept is simple: procure two tyvek suits, put one inside the other and tape all the cuffs of the inner and outer suits together (legs, arms and collar).

Now if you find yourself in a forested biome, natural insulation should be pretty abundant and easy to come by. Unzip both suits and get in. Zip up the inner suit and begin to gather all the leaves and pine needles (omitting sticks where possible) you can, which will help generate warmth. Stuff the legs, arms and body of the suit through the zippered opening.

When dawn arrives and you find yourself alive, unzip and dump the leaves by pulling the suit inside out and give it a good shake before packing up. Or if you prefer, walk a while in your scarecrow attire and alert other hikers about the plague of the crazies.

Good luck.

mackey mtn. memorial run

Mackey Mountain is a monarch of McDowell County. But despite its powerful presence, it is seldom climbed. Because the mountain is relatively isolated in these parts of Pisgah, the most feasible route is about 10 miles roundtrip. This trail is notoriously rugged and overgrown. All this adds to the intrigue.

A 1997 Sierra Club map of the area (which I’ve yet to return to its rightful owner) shows a network of trails around Mackey. For the most part, these trails don’t exist anymore. After camping with Lily, Uwharrie and my dad at Curtis Creek on Friday night, I convinced my dad to join me for a 15-mile tour de Mackey.

The clockwise loop, with start/finish at Curtis Creek promised to be Barkley-esque. For at least half the way, we’d be bushwhacking. We took a wrong turn early on, but soon found our way down the Narrows and over the broad shoulders of Mackey. With the peak bagged, the challenge had just begun…

During our descent off Mackey, we missed the best opportunity to pass though an obscure gap west out of Deep Cove. We endured a laurel hell for two miles as we tripped, slid and cursed our way into the Laurel Fork basin. At this point, I noticed that my shins were starting to resemble pepperoni pizza.

Overjoyed to be able to run once more up Mackey Creek, we made our way up and over to Hickory Branch, the last climb of the day. We finished in 6.5 hours (just over 2 mph). There was quite a lot of climbing, but more than anything, it was the bushwhacking that slowed us down. Just the kind of preparation I need to be doing for Veterans Day.

apples to apples

Our Halloween weekend's chill was ushered in with a successful Friday stream study fieldtrip. A rainy Saturday helped me catch up on some much needed shut-eye. We made it over to the library and Foam & Fabric for some supplies... Lots of gear projects in the works, more on that to come...

Sunday, Lily dropped Uwharrie and me off at Woodlawn at noon to meet Mo for a trail run along the MST to Buck Creek Gap. She left the car and hopped on her roadie for a ride to Altapass along the parkway. I was to run the half-marathon distance in about 2 hours to pick up Lily's car and drive to Altapass to meet her, Jessica and Forrest for some late-season apple picking action in the orchard.

I forgot how BEASTLY this stretch of trail is. After catching up with Mo (who was on the last leg of his marathon run), Uwharrie and I upped the pace. The colors were still cranking on higher grounds, and our serving of fast-paced single-track, delicious. Ten minute miles shouldn't feel that tough. It's a reminder that the world ain't flat... Apples to apples: Uncle Matt needs to get back in shape, running slow isn't quite like running fast.

(... That's right, uncle. Congrats to Beck and Andy for the arrival of Cora Grace on 10/26!!!)