Big Moose's Big Mountain Adventures
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!
This week past I hiked up the Northfork Mountain Trail to Chimney Rocks with my son and his two buddies from college.
We arrived at the trialhead just past noon on a brilliantly clear yet cold March day. After a quick high protein lunch, we drank lots of water. The best place to store water while hiking is in the stomach. Many hikers do not drink enough water. At the end of the day, that can mean the difference between pleasant fatigue or numb tiredness. A good rule to follow is to drink at least once per hour, even if not thirsty. Of course, drink more if you are thirsty. To travel light and fast, carry iodine tablets, with the taste and color neutralizer. It takes about twenty minutes to purify water. Doing it one litre at a time makes for light travel. Unfortunately, the route up Northfork Mountain has no water. For that matter, the entire twenty-three miles is dry. And yet it is one of the best hikes in West Virginia, and the entire Eastern US.
The trailhead is on Smoke Hole Road, just south of West Virginia Route 28. The trail starts up the side of a ridge via a series of switchbacks. I told the young men with whom I was hiking to think of it as a two hour stair climb. Find a sustainable pace, and settle in. Do not worry about keeping pace with someone faster. It is 1800 vertical feet from start to Chimney rocks, and about three and a half miles. The young ones went ahead, and I started at a slow pace, soon stopping to stretch my calves and soleus, and to shed some layers, as the climb was causing me to break a pretty good sweat. I have found the secret to cold weather hiking is to not soak all of my clothes by overheating. Just keep peeling off layers until the sweating stops, or there is only the undershirt layer left. Make sure the clothes are quick drying (not cotton). If cold when peeled, put on a hat and/or gloves.
As I hiked up mountain, I did a walking meditation that I like to do. It is the Thanksgiving Address from Jon Young's Wilderness Awareness School via Chief Jake Swamp, Sub Chief of the Wolf Clan of the Mohawk Nation. Then I silently worked on the story of Anwar and Faruk. We live our stories. And so, if we want to make a certain impact in the world, perhaps we should incorporate that impact into the story of our life, and share that story with those who are important to us. After about an hour, all uphill, we finally came to the edge of the continuous cliff that runs the length of Northfork Mountain. However, we were not yet to the mountain top. The wind was cold as it whipped through the gap where the Northfork of the South Branch of the Potomac River punches through the mountain. There were several outcrops that offered awesome, breathtaking views. Forty-five minutes more, and we reached the mountain top. However, just as the trail guide warned, we missed the path hard back to the right leading to the Chimney Tops. Fortunately, one of our hikers was tired and dizzy and had requested a snack break. Without too much trouble, we found the path and made our way to the columns that stand almost two-thousand feet over the valley. Vertigo for me and my son. However, the others made their way onto the Chimney Tops for some memorable exploration.
We did an auto adventure detour on the way back to home base. A forty-five minute side trip took us up to the top of Spruce Mountain, West Virginia's highest point at just under 5000 feet above sea level. The roads near the top were snow covered and a bit icy. However, we perserved long enough to park and make the short walk from the parking lot to the observation tower. A quick shivering photo, and we were back in the car for the return to home base and a delicious hot supper. We thank the Creator for our many gifts and humbly ask that we be worthy of the gift of Life.
This past Saturday, I hiked at Babcock State Park. It is about twenty miles northeast of Beckley, West Virginia. The day started out very cool, but totally clear and breathtakingly beautiful. The drive up WV 41 goes into the New River Gorge at Prince, crosses the River, and then climbs up out to the Gorge. I stopped by Possum's General Store at Landisburg, just south of the south entrance to Babcock. A very tidy little place with some groceries, travel gifts, fishing supplies, and a breakfast and lunch counter.
Babcock originally was a park which permitted visits by Blacks back in the days of segregation. In the current era, it has a functioning grist mill. It is also apparently very popular with fishermen, as many were plying their avocation along the banks of Boley Lake and Davis Branch.
I hiked the Wilderness Trail. The trial head is along the road from the grist mill to the lake. The hike begins along a dry ridge top above the Manns Creek, Glade Creek gorge. There were some really neat ice crystals that had grown overnight in a mud puddle in the trail. After about two miles of hiking, I came to a sign announcing the end of the trail. It advises hikers to return via the same route from which they came. I, however, proceeded past the sign, down the switchbacks into the cove, and up the other side. The going was a bit difficult due to downed trees across the abandoned trail route. However, it was manageable. After a time, I came to an area where the trail was lined with rocks, neatly stacked to define the trail edge. However, it was apparent that it had been some several years since the trail was in service. Proceeding on along the south side to the Manns Creek Gorge, I was soon rewarded for my efforts. I had stumbed into an area of old growth trees. Some oaks were as large as any I have ever seen in the Eastern US.
I had lunch at a large slump block along the southern face of rock where there was a very favorable, warm microclimate. I decided to continue farther west to see how far the big trees continued. A mile later, and the big trees continued as far as the eye could see. What a find! I was truly excited. After a time, I turned around to backtrack to the trail and trail head. A bit tired, but pumped by my find, I decided to explore by auto a bit. An hour of back road driving found me proceeding down the east face of the New
River Gorge, just under the US 19 bridge. A couple of photo ops later, I was across the bridge, up the other side of the gorge, and out onto US 19. I did a little detour into Fayetteville, the hometown of a friend, and then it was on to Beckley. I thank the Creator for the beautiful day, and the opportunity to explore the beautiful country in West Virginia, and the discovery of the old growth trees in Babcock State Park.
Winter has been a fulltime resident here in West Virginia's Yew Mountains. In the Cranberry Highlands where I snowshoed last Wednesday, there were forty plus inches of snow cover; six inches of powder on top of a base of ice over frozen granular stuff . I wonder what the Inuit names are for that combination. I recall that the Inuit, like the Chukchi in Siberia and other indigenous populations north of the Arctic Circle have eighteen, or twenty-eight, or some multiple of names for snow in its various manifestations.
I left the Cranberry Nature Center, a surreal scene of ice, huge snow drifts , and piercing cold howling wind, and proceeded on the Pocahontas Trail. The going was difficult. Some folks on horses had post holed through the wet snow before it froze five days before. This was the condition of the trail for the entire first hour, until the turnoff to the Cranberry Mountain Lodge, the obvious source of horses and riders who had now rendered that section of the trail unfit for any use, including further horse riding, for the rest of the winter.
Once the horse mess was behind me, the trail was beautiful, and the going much quicker. The cloud cover started to break up, and the sun peaked in and out, softening the snow and prompting a move to hatless shirt sleeves for the climb to Blue Knob. At Blue Knob, there was evidence of some folks recently engaging in mass fun! About two days previous, several folks had snow shoed in from the Kennison Mountain Trail along the Highland Scenic Highway. They climbed the knob in snow shoes, and then snow boarded down the mountain on a beautiful glade run. It looked as if they repeated several times.
After climbing Blue Knob, about two and a half miles from the trail head, I retraced my steps back to the Cranberry Nature Center. I paused at a few of the many south facing overlooks to admire Bruffy Creek Valley, and the mountain landscape. I thanked the Creator for the gift of life, and asked for the strength, courage, wisdom, and perserverance to be worthy.
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Big Moose's Big Mountain Adventures
