New Trail: Watauga Dam, TN: He Orders My Steps

Sign posted at most trailheads

When: March 16 - 19, 2015

Where: North of Roan Mountain, TN to Damascus Cherokee National Forest

Weather: 4 days of cold spring weather, mostly sunny; last day rain, sleet, fog.

Length: 45.6 miles northbound

Elevation Changes: A thousand feet up and down in a number of places and two thousand  feet down from the ridge to Damascus, VA

There is a 75 mile stretch of the AT in TN that I had not hiked and which I needed to complete a continuous section from south of the Smokies to just north of the PA border. So last week I had planned to knock this out just as the weather improved from the snow several weeks before. Well, someone had another plan; I hiked less than expected.

Open spaces

Day 1: Up early for a drive down to Damascus, VA where I met Uncle Mike. I parked my truck across from the Damascus Library and he hauled me and my gear over to just north of the town of Roan Mountain, TN, US19E to be specific. The AT crosses there. M had dropped me there last year for a hike over the Roan Mountain Balds. He dropped me at the trailhead and I walked a bit down the trail, dropped by pack and sorted out some stuff before taking off. A SoBo came over the creek, said hi and was gone. I did not see another person until, 24 hours later, I encountered some day hikers while taking a rest at the Moreland Gap Shelter.

Note about Lent: In traditional Christian religious practice, the calendar year is overlaid with seasons and special days. The period before Easter is Lent and is a time when Christians in preparation for the joy of celebrating the Resurrection of Jesus Christ spend time in introspection and self-denial. Customary practices include increased devotion to prayer, meditation on scripture, confession of sin, and self-denial (giving up something for Lent?) as well as acts of service for those less fortunate.

The J-Man at Isaacs Cemetery

One of the aspects of long-distance backpacking in the wilderness this introvert enjoys most is the solitude. Depending on the season (related to the number of people on the trail), one can spend many hours hiking along and not encounter a soul but be rewarded with all the sights, sounds, smells, touches, and tastes of the out-of-doors. By staying out night after night you end up in places that fewer people casually visit. Even if I meet someone at a shelter or camping spot, I usually will not hike with them but set my own pace. Leapfrogging is commonplace because hikers have differing paces and rest for differing periods.

Water teems

Now back to my 24-hour hiking retreat. I had hoped that I would have such a period during my hike as part of my Lenten discipline. So, during those specific hours (and actually many more hours spaced over the next three days) there were no people, no radio, no TV, no DVD, DVR, Netflix, no electronic devices or communication (OK, I lied: I did sent M one text to let her know I was doing fine - I am not giving her up for Lent). I was completely alone with myself and my 30 pounds of gear. So, what did I do other than walk, eat, drink, rest, sleep, and use my senses? Well, I did take a book (The Hobbit) for some recreational reading at night as I bedded down. But wait Hank, you did not take any devotional stuff with you, not even a Bible? No, I did not and I do not. What I do is let my mind wander to wherever it wants to go and unsurprisingly, when ensconced in the wilderness, I ponder the Creator; how could I not? Therefore, I am dependent on what I have memorized over the years, such as important Bible passages, prayers, lessons, songs, hymns or things I spontaneously remember such as pictures, events, and, of course, people. There is a rhythm to hiking then for me that lends itself to humming, singing, or just thinking lyrics and tunes. During this time I found myself very repetitively engaging various forms of what is called the Kyrie. In its simplest form it is translated "Lord, have mercy", an appropriate prayer for Lent. I wager that I literally repeated this phrase and its companions thousands of times during that 24 hours, sometimes aloud, sometimes in my head to the beat of my footfalls. Sound boring? Not to me. I was having "Just A Closer Walk With Thee". Look up the lyrics, if interested. Imagine, if you will, checking out of your routines for a full 24 hours and spending the time in complete solitude; how difficult would that be to achieve? Hiking in the wilderness affords such opportunities and I relish them.

Mountaineer Falls

But wait, no great revelations and insights from God about life? Actually, no. I will say that since moving to Orange there are two phrases that occur to me regularly. One is that I am "in love with my town". I grew up there, spent much time there over the years since my folks where there, and now that I am back I truly have a great affection for the place. The other phrase is about "loving my town". I am convinced I am here for a reason and, if I truly believe that God "orders my steps", He has plans for me to do stuff there, which translates in my mind as that phrase. Do I know the specifics of His plan? Not yet, but I did have some general thoughts along those lines as those two phrases flowed through my mind.

I rolled into the Mountaineer Falls Shelter around 5:00p, decided not to tent and went about setting out my gear, eating, fetching water, and staying warm. The temperature during the day was near 70F but fell off quickly in the waning sunshine. A good night, alone in the shelter, warm in my down bag with that puffy somewhat new sleeping pad (Thermarest Neo-Air).

Mountaineer Falls Shelter

Day 2: Up a bit later but out on the trail by 8:15a with plans to hike 14 miles to the Coon Den Falls side trail at which point I would decide whether to camp, go to a hostel, or hike past the USFS50 road to the Laurel Fork Shelter. The day proceeded well with cooler temps and sunny skies. There were plenty of views with no leaves out yet and lovely paths along watercourses. I stopped to rest at the Moreland Gap Shelter where I chatted with some day-hiking ladies.

Note about "He orders my steps": I have never heard God speak to me directly, as if in a clear voice He said, "Hey Hank, don't camp here just keep hiking to the shelter." But there have been times when I have sensed an urging to do a particular thing. Is that a word from God or just my consciousness making a choice based on circumstances? Who really knows. In hindsight, I might give Him credit when those circumstances or the resulting events seem to be beyond mere chance.

Cinchona Sign in Summer

At the side trail, I decided to stay on the main trail and hike 3.5 miles to the shelter. I was feeling pretty good, especially considering this was my first time on the trail since September last year. As I crossed USFS50 I noticed two signs indicating the proximity of two hostels along the road. I was aware of them, but had not given them much consideration until now. I was drawn to one sign for the Kincora Hostel. I did not take this photo, but the above sign surrounded by poison ivy was unobstructed when I gazed upon it last week. I felt that urging to hike up the road 0.2 miles and check it out. Why not? I might run into some interesting folk and miss some trail experience.

Kincora Hostel

I passed "Dusty" on the way up as he was making his way down to the trail just for a look-about. He was continuing (the following day) his thru-hike from last year when he had to leave the trail here due to a severe illness. I met Bob on the porch of his living quarters on the right of the photo and he showed me around the place, the hostel being the structure to the left. I decided to stay. Suffices to say this place was very rustic and a bit shabby with aroma of substantial feline presence (somebodies got to take care of those vermin). Bob is his loquacious manner chatted me up on the hostel porch where I soon learned of some difficulties on the trail ahead, none of which I was aware of, nor would I have been if I had hike past the road to the shelter (is someone watching over me?).

Note about those bears: My plans for the next day took me 12 miles to the Watauga Lake Shelter over Pond Flats, an arduous 2000 foot climb and descent within 5 miles, but manageable. What I discovered was that the shelter was closed and there was no camping for a half-mile either side of it due to two rogue male bears terrorizing folks wandering in the area. Outside of those parameters there were no good campsites until the next shelter, Vandeventer, an additional 6 miles away with another 2000 foot ascent. 

Some time back a local began feeding a female bear cat/dog food at the shelter (who knows why). The bear birthed the male cubs and they acquired a refined taste as well. Another local shot and killed the mother and the males just managed on their own, never forgetting the taste of pet food. Several challenging human interactions ensued the latest being last week when another local and his dog were in the area and one bear chased the dog (unusual) and knocked down the man (no serious injury, but scary nonetheless). The Forest Service has no plans to deal with the bears at this time. Local trail volunteers have identified an area a mile or so north they could clear and add some fire rings to support the advent of thru-hikers coming within a month. No permit has been issued so the problem of how to hike safely through this area and where to camp is unresolved.

So, imagine what could have happened to me if I had hiked on past the road to the shelter, got up the next morning thinking I have 12 arduous miles to Watauga Lake, taking my time (having fun) and arriving late in the day to a closed shelter with bear warnings posted everywhere and no knowledge of the circumstances and the next shelter 6 miles away up a long grade. Panic? Exhaustion? Fear? Real Danger? Injury? Not pretty!

I settled into the hostel unsure of my next steps. To hike through on the next day would be near 18 miles and I was more than a bit concerned about attempting such a hike on my third day out. I could probably do it but would have been stressed the whole day, both mentally and physically. Not to say that hiking the AT is not without challenges, but this one was winding me up a bit (someone urging something?). Another hiker, The Professor, showed up at the hostel; I had passed him earlier in the day. The evening was spent discussing tomorrow's plans, eating and talking about past experiences and gear - typical hiker talk.

The Professor had asked Bob to shuttle him further north on the trail (he was not interested in going anywhere near the shelter) and as it happens, Bob was headed in that direction anyway to perform some trail maintenance with some of his buddies. I really wanted to do this hike. I wrestled with the hike all night, sleeping fitfully, until early morning when I considered the thought of going with Bob in the morning further up the trail, bypassing the problem and continuing my hike, shorter as it were. I only had two ways out: hiking through or bypassing in Bob's car. I asked if he could take me just over to Watauga Dam (skipping those 12 miles) and making the day's hike a lot easier. That made the shuttle too complicated so I would have to settle for skipping 30 miles of trail on that day and figuring out how to go back and complete them later. Some disappointment settled in but once I decided to bypass a sense of relief came over me and the disappointment faded. Better safe than sorry.

Day 3: Bob took us over to Shady Valley, TN across some tortuous mountain roads to TN 91. The Professor and I headed out at different paces toward the Abingdon Gap Shelter about 12 miles away. It was an easy and enjoyable day. I arrived at the shelter around 3:30p to cold temperatures and threatening rain. I spread out my gear, made coffee, slipped into my sleeping bag, and enjoyed its warmth as I read a bit. The Professor showed somewhat later, we ate, chatted a little and bedded down.

Rest at Double Springs Shelter 

Walking the ridge of Iron Mountain

McQueen's Knob, abandoned shelter

Abingdon Gap Shelter arrival

I had encountered a college student at Low Gap while I was watering up at a piped spring. He was resting at the shelter later as I arrived and he snapped the photo. We had a pleasant conversation about his hiking, studies and plans.

View to west from shelter

View into shelter

Day 4: For a while I had considered hiking into Damascus today and driving back over the mountains to the hostel and having Bob work some shuttle/trail logistics for me to finish those 30 miles in a way that would be safer and more enjoyable. I was not due back in Orange until Saturday, two days hence. But again I felt that urging to accept what would be a good first time out for the season and come back soon to finish up. I awoke to rain, sleet and wind, so I packed up, geared up, and headed out. I maintained a brisk pace on the mostly downhill 10 mile trail into Damascus, arriving a bit before 12:00n; not a blistering pace but pretty fast for me given the conditions. As cold and wet as it was I needed to keep moving to stay warm: not an unpleasant morning. My truck was waiting patiently for me and with a quick sorting out of stuff I was off on the trip back to Orange.

Into Virginia

Nice stretch of trail on the ridge

Nuff said

Reflections: 

I am becoming fully aware of how important places like the AT are. Where better else can I go and be alone for 24 hours (or more). I love being out-of-doors.

I believe God ordered my steps on this hike for retreat as well as safety and that experience is just a representation of what He does in my life if I just acknowledge it. This hike reminded me that I may have a plan but it may not be the one that transpires. No disappointment required, just gratitude for what I was able to accomplish and experience. As it were, by being back on Thursday night, M and I received a call about the death of a dear friend in Richmond who's memorial service was scheduled for Saturday. I would have missed that. We were able to go together and reconnect with some of our Richmond friends and celebrate the life of a faithful man. On Friday, M and I had a lovely afternoon walking the small main street of Gordonsville, VA: not a bad trade-off to those miles on the trail that will still be there when I am ready.

I am very pleased with my backpacking gear. Over time I have refined what I have and what I take and each time I learn something. Organization improves and packing becomes easier. 

My foot strategy is working: Vaseline, merino wool liner socks, no-Gortex Solomon trail runners, no fancy inserts, changing socks a couple of time a day = no blisters, abrasions, or injuries.

I got to work on my menus; trail food can get boring.