not quite to calloway

None shall pass

Sunday afternoon: the sun is shining, and it’s hard to comprehend how this weekend’s training plan, a self-supported repeat of the “All the Way to Calloway” got smacked down by Mother Nature some 36 hours ago. Then again, neither could we comprehend it at the time…

Saturday morning: we didn’t understand what the torrential rain and hissing river were trying to tell us. Our camp beside the North Fork of the Catawba River was a two-inch bog upon which the tent floated. Breaking camp in a downpour is no fun, but we diligently packed and readied ourselves before dawn for a 35-40 mile trek.

After four hours of hiking in the rain, we had made it past Bald Knob and to the west rim of the gorge. We found temporary relief in an open radio tower storage building to call my dad and confirm that clear skies were still on the way.

More messages were received from the creeks, roads and trails, all gushing with muddy water. I thought: maybe we shouldn’t try fording the river… But there’s still a bridge, right?

As we deviated northward from the MST along the west rim headed for the Spence Ridge Trail Bridge, we took the opportunity to explore Rock Jock Trail. Clouds were beginning to lift and we caught glimpses of a waterfall wonderland. The rains had transformed the gorge into something both staggeringly beautiful and horrific.

The trail itself was a continuous cascade. We often found ourselves in positions that put us at risk of inadvertently taking the quickest way down to the river. Still, the clouds were lifting and so too followed our spirits

That is, until we actually got down to the river…

Swollen beyond recognition, it was an awesome sight. Reality began to set in, but we persevered to the bridge, or what was once the bridge. The message was now loud and clear: No one was getting across the Linville today.

After thirty minutes of staring blankly at the raging water, I blinked.

Now we were not so much in a hurry, so we decided to climb Pinch-In. We found a pleasant camp along the MST to bed down for a second night. Saturday night was windy and chilly, all in all another great opportunity to test some gear. Come morning, we returned to Woodlawn and made contact with my folks.

Although this ~45-mile out-and-back trek wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, it was certainly a memorable experience. Both Uwharrie and I hiked strong and the homemade gear performed well in conditions more extreme than what it was designed for. A little video action: