This past Thursday I did a late afternoon hike in the Spice Run Wilderness. Spice Run is proposed as a wilderness, but it is not officially such. The area lies within a few miles of where I live at the Gesundheit! Institute about five miles outside of Hillsboro, West Virginia. However, to get there from here directly requires crossing the Greenbrier River. Since the River is running fairly high, I did not want to wade it, particularly as this was to be only my second venture into this area. Is it passable?
So I took the "easier" alternative. I drove about an hour, down to Renick, out the Auto Road, onto Forest Road 309. I parked in front of the gate, taking care not to block it. A few hunters drove by in pickups as I was getting my boots on. Deer gun season starts in five days.
The walk across Slab Camp Creek was two easy hops and a dodge around a small muddy bog. I picked my way across a small meadow via deer trails, and soon found the old forest road path. It was an extremely pleasant walk down the road above Slab Camp Creek. I soon came upon a beautiful white pine grove. Later, Giant Rhododendron lined the creek bed. Soon, the path down the old road was also lined with rhodies. The pruning shears I carry in my fanny pack came in handy for making the trail less impeded. I continued to marvel at the pleasantness of the walk. I noted several likely camp spots along the trail, as well as a lack of evidence of human visitation. After about forty-five minutes, I came to what appeared to be road's end. The now abandoned Slab Camp Creek Trail continued along the same elevation, down the "draft" towards the Greenbrier River. At one point I passed an old bridge foundation, soon after, two sets of wheels of a narrow gauge rail car. Apparently, the trail, not unlike many others in the Mon', followed an old rail bed built specifically to remove the timber, probably eighty to ninety years ago.
I had gotten quite a late start this day, as I had spent much time exploring the surrounding area via auto. My self imposed turnaround time came, but I wanted to make my way around the next ridge shoulder, thinking that I would then see the Greenbrier and trails end. However, upon reaching this destination, I saw another likely ridge shoulder, thinking the Greenbrier should lie beyond it.It took another five or seven iterations of this before I finally came to the River. I was now almost forty-five minutes past my turnaround time.
I quickly drank, rolled up my bandana and tied it into place as a headband, shouldered my day pack, and began the backtrack, knowing that I would run out of daylight. The return trip was via a well pruned path, but the grade up hill was a bit steeper than it seemed coming down. This is a familiar phenomenon. Darkness started to grow within a short time of beginning my return. I pressed ahead at a fast pace. I had spent more that ninety minutes on the way down. Some of that time was pruning time. However, I realized that the grade would probably consume the extra time I had spent pruning, and soon resigned myself to a ninety minute plus return trip, finishing in the dark. I had failed to bring a light along as this often being for me is more disorienting than darkness.
During my time as an outdoor education instructor back in Ohio, we often did night hikes with our school groups. This consisted of taking ten to twelve students on a walk into the forest at night, on familiar trails. We provided looped ropes so that each student had a handhold, and then walked the entire group, usually with a teacher at the back end, into a hemlock grove, which are almost always quite dark. After sitting quietly for a story, we would instruct the students to cover one eye. Then we would light a candle. Keeping one eye covered, students would look at the candle. Then, we would blow out the candle. Now, by looking up at the trees, it is possible to experience night vision. Everyone who has ever done this little experiment in my presence has marveled at the experience. Over the past several years, I have from time to time worked with my night vision. I understand that I can see much better than I believe, but that it must be done with "wide angle vision" (peripherally) and that I must "trust".
Now that it was becoming fully dark, I engaged wide angle vision and forced myself to slow down. I consiously worked to "center" myself, wanting to stay calm and present in the moment. Tracker students know that within just a few minutes, wide angle vision changes brain wave patterns. Centering and quieting the mind opens one to potentially wonderful experiences. Within a short time, I could feel a presence walking on my left side. There was a nearly imperceptable glow just above my head. I noticed ahead, about fifty feet, a soft red glow. I assumed an attitude of Thanksgiving as Jon Young would suggest. WOW! The sprites of the forest had come to visit me. The feeling was one of immense joy. Soon, I came to the hard part, finding my way across the meadow, and crossing the creek. No problems. Then, I noticed the outline of my old 4-runner and celebrated my safe returned. Slab Camp Creek is a magical place!
