Sunday, September 4, 2011

New Trail: Crabtree Farm Road (Rt. 826) to Long Mountain Wayside (Rt. 60)

Trail Head
Date:  August 23 & 24, 2011
Where: Near Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) between Crabtree Falls Meadow and Rt. 60
Weather: Mostly sunny, 60s to start, breezy, pleasant in the afternoon
Length: 20.0 m plus 6 m to access trail head
Elevation change: 3500 feet at trail head with some ups and downs until descent to Rt. 60 at about 2000 feet.
Duration: 14 hours of hiking 
I had hiked from the Tye River across the Priest to the meadow at the top of Crabtree Falls some time ago so I wanted to add some miles to the south end of this VA stretch. My plan was to hike further down the trail to BRP milepost 51.7, a total of 30 m, but a little earthquake changed my plans.
One of the challenges of hiking the AT are the logistics of getting on and off the trail; this is exacerbated for section hikers because we do this more than a thru-hiker who stays on the trail for extended periods of time before taking a day off in a town near the trail. I am dependent on people being willing to pick up me and my pack where I plant my truck at the end of my hike and deliver me to a more convenient place to access the trail. So I left my truck at BRP 51.7 (Punchbowl Mtn.) and caught a ride with Jeff and Mike at about noon on Tuesday (I had a meeting with my VASS lady at Wintergreen in the morning so I had a later start.) They took me all the way to Rt 56 which crosses the BRP near Crab Tree Falls. These were good ole boys from Lynchburg doing some roofing on a friend's cabin. I could tell they warmed up to me quickly because soon after I had climbed into the rear section of the extended cab they settled into their country vernacular heavy with cheek-reddening vocabulary. The most common description of any variety of humankind was motherf...er and I wondered if the guys realized what a society based on this lifestyle would look like.  O well, they are still angels in my book. With that great provision I had hoped I could find rides down the mountain on Rt 56 to Rt 826, the road that goes into the meadow above Crab Tree Falls and the AT. Nope, I ended up having to backpack all the way into the trail head, a distance of 6 m and Rt 826 was not kind to me, gravel, yes, but pitched up nearly the entire way. I was pretty much beat by the time I reached the trail head at 3:45 pm. During this time there was that little shakeup in Mineral; I felt nothing except the weight of my pack and the heat in my feet.
After a brief rest and snack I set out for the Seely-Woodworth shelter a mere 5.6 m away. The terrain was fairly level and I began to enjoy the hike since I was now cranking on some AT miles (those access miles don't count if you are counting - and I am) and felt pretty good. Communication on the trail is another challenge; with the seemingly ubiquitous mobile phone coverage in our expansive land there are still many places without service, so letting M know what's up is spotty. She does worry about me being on the trail alone which is understandable. I have found that if I know people are worried about me and they have not heard from me in a while then I feel some anxiety which is just the opposite of my desire for a trail experience. But this is a reality we have to learn to deal with, so occasionally I will turn on my phone and hike for a while possibly passing into a service area where I will hear the distinctive "plunk" of a text message. So it was as I made my way down the trail that I received a message from M stating "earthquake in Mineral, chimney fell at house in Orange, call when you can." Ouch! Now I have a host of things on my mind, all of which translate into "what do I do now that I am more than 25 miles from my journey's end two days from now?" I try calling but no service. I have seen nary a soul so far except for that bear crashing through brush off to the left of the trail. Am I having any fun now? I reach the shelter at 7:00 pm pretty wound up and indecisive. Out comes the mobile and providence smiles with service. I contact M, we chat and the world seems brighter even though darkness is settling in with the sun dipping behind the ridge. I decide I should abbreviate my trip, go by Orange, check out the damage and then back to Richmond on Wednesday (I have a meeting on Thursday night - which had been the last day of my hike).
Considered options were to complete my hike as planned, go to Orange and then try to make it back to Richmond in time for my meeting or to hike 14 m tomorrow to get me to the intersection of the trail and Rt 60 near Buena Vista, hoping to catch a ride back up to the BRP and south 6 m to my truck resting place. I had planned this trip to be somewhat leisurely and now I am going to have to hightail it to leave time for logistics. The solitary shelter sleep was punctuated by night sounds and the presence of an adventuresome field mouse practiced at inspecting every part of my gear for food (or something to chew). I had religiously hung by bear bag so no morsels existed in or around my stuff. I heard him (or her) skittering and scratching and two times shone my flashlight to encourage departure to regions unknown. Silly me, no sooner had I settled back into my cocoon and he was back. I figured that after a while he would give up since there was no food, so I drifted off to the sounds of his investigation. I was up at first light and off by 7:00 am with an expectation of finishing by 2:00 pm.
With that far to go in a short time and much weighing heavy on my mind, I pretty much hustled all the way and, therefore, did not enjoy the trip as planned. The brightest spot along the trail was at a place called Ball Knob (I think) which was an expansive area that had just been recently mowed, so unlike the rest of the overgrown trail, there was much more to see, save the fact that fog rolled in from time-to-time and then cleared in amazingly short order. The trail was blazed on posts and rocks for the lack of trees. Further on there were abundant wildflowers and the weather was fine for hiking. My descent to Rt 60 was more pleasant than my trail map indicated with well-designed switchbacks, nonetheless, due to my Olympian pace, I worked up some blisters on the balls of my feet; still a tenderfoot, just have to keep training. The boots are fine, I just need to watch those hot spots. As I neared the termination of my hike I could hear the sound of diesels humming as 18-wheelers made the ascent over the pass going west into Buena Vista; with this much traffic hitching a ride should not have been a problem. I arrived at the Long Mountain Wayside, a lovely lay-by in the pass, set out my pack on the side of the road and chilled under some nearby trees. 
After about 30 minutes a Chevy 10 pickup making painful objections to climbing the pass slowed and pulled into the wayside. Danny (man) and Tom (small dachshund) invited me in, so with pack hefted into the truck bed, otherwise full of other man's treasures, we set out. They were going to Buena Vista, so I would be making it to the BRP. This was the best part of the entire trip. Sputtering for need of a fuel filter that would pass the amount of gas needed to ascend we crept up the mountain, Danny gingerly manipulating the gas pedal for fear of a stall and Tom on my lap taking in the breeze with his head out the window in the fashion most enjoyed by canines. Tom was most agreeable with my presence and allowed all manner of stroking and petting while the breeze held his ears out at 90 degrees to his head; he could have flown. Danny and I chatted about the earthquake, trucks, and divine providence. As we approached the BRP he asked where I was going and when I said: a few miles south, he said: I can take you down there, that woman in Buena Vista that keeps calling me to come help will just have to wait a while. Once on the BRP the truck kept cutting off going downhill, but Danny just put the aging transmission in neutral, engaged the starter and as predictable as the mileposts along the side of the road the engine roared (uh whimpered) to life. Danny did not have a care in the world and knew that his ride was not going to let me down. We pulled into the Punchbowl Overlook at about 3:00 pm and my truck was welcoming me with implied impatience (where have you been?) Off to Orange, chimney inspection, and home.
Reflections: I learned a few things on this outing: first, it is not prudent to plan a trip that has obligations as bookends - I planned and squeezed a hike into an available time slot between two meetings - a hike needs to be able to have a schedule that can breathe, take an extra day if one desires to; secondly, communication on the trail (or lack thereof) brings anxiety - how long has it been since I talked to someone? what is happening back home? how many people are worrying about me being out here all alone? what obligations require a change in plans? how does one manage priorities? I now am beginning to appreciate the sacrifices made by hikers and folks back home when someone decides to take off for 4 to 5 months and attempt a thru-hike much less a section that takes a couple of weeks (my goal for the future). As much as I need to continue my physical preparedness, some additional mental and emotional preparation is required by me and others in order for me to enjoy myself.