The Black Mountain Crest Trail
Well I am back from my trip out to the black mountains, and I had a fantastic experience. There were some bumps along the way, things didn’t go exactly as planned, there are some lingering aches and pains, but the joys of the mountains were worth all that.
Since I only get to do a few backpacking trips a year I am going to go all out talking about this one. Not all in one post though. For this post I am just going to describe what I did, and then I will have one talking about my gear, one talking about my thoughts, and one with pictures and descriptions of the trail and the views. So here goes with what I did.
Wednesday night I camped in a camping area off the Blue Ridge Parkway, and had an uneventful night of sleep. Thursday morning I drove to the top of Mount Mitchell, parked my car, and as I had planned, left my gear in the car and hiked south to climb Mount Hallback and Mount Gibbes. Thanks to my waypoints I found both peaks and singed my name in the logbook at the top of Mount Hallback, dedicating my trip to Jillian who has left me for a foreign country. I then headed back up to the top of Mitchell where I saddled up, topped off my water, and headed out on the crest trail.
The description of the crest trail on my map describes it as “the most rugged and most scenic trail in the area.” I have done lots of hikes described as difficult that turned out to be not so much, and many described as scenic that were only scenic if you liked looking at trees (I do enjoy looking at trees by the way.) In this case however the description on the map was a very good one. I found it to be challanging both to climb and to navigate, and I found it to be a test of endurence as well. However I was given much grace and I never got lost, hurt, or too terribly exhausted.
The second half of the maps description proved true as well. The trail was by far the most satisfyingly scenic I have ever been on. I say satisfyingly scenic because the Grand Canyon was an incredibly amazing thing to see. However the fact that we drove up to the rim took away some of the satisfaction of being able to see it. In this case I felt like not only was I seeing amazing things, but I felt an exclusivisity (word?) about seeing them, because it took a lot of blood sweat and toil to earn the vistas.
So anyway, Thursday, a little before noon, I started up the crest trail, and Thursday afternoon I reached the peaks of Mount Craig, Balsam Cone, Potato Hill, and Winter Star Mountain. I then made a camp about half a mile north of Winter Star, around 5 in the evening.
Camping alone is nice because it gives you lots of time to think, and when you set up camp at 5 then you get even more time because it was three and a half hours before the sun set. I had many thoughts, but one thought in particular that kept recuring was how thirsty I was. Now I was not about to die of thirst or anything. I brought three liters of water on the trail, and by that time I had finished two of them. The problem was that I knew I couldn’t get any more water since I was on a crest, and I had to save my third liter for the next day. All this is to say that when it started to rain Thursday night I was overjoyed. A plastic bag set in a dip in the ground collected lots of water. I also consolidated a lot of stuff in my pack and collected water in zip lock bags as it came off the fly of my tent. I slept in peace, knowing there would be plenty of water for the next day.
Friday morning I got up around nine and ate breakfast. I then headed out to conquer Gibbs Mountain (not to be confused with Mount Gibbes) and Celo Knob, both of which were a little more difficult then the others on the crest trail because the trail did not go right to the peak. At the top of Celo Knob I found out that it was originally named Young’s Knob for the man who originally climbed it. I then headed down the long ascent to Blowlens Creek and the town of Burnsville. By 3 in the afternoon I was back in the civilized world, a mess of a man with a pack and no friends. The friends weren’t scheduled to meet me till 6.
So for 3 hours I bummed around town, walked probably another 4 miles with my pack, and eventially met up with Kevin and Paul. Kevin and Paul and I intended to camp out Friday night and then climb Mount Mitchell by way of the Mount Mitchell trail, a very challanging 3000 foot ascent. Our first challenge however was to find a campsite at 6:00 on a Friday evening. After looping through two campgrounds we eventially decided to hike up to Roaring Fork Falls and see if we could camp out. This we did and we enjoyed a fabulous evening of Burritos, tobacco pipes, waterfalls, and fellowship.
Once we hit the sacks for the night, then the real fun began. My rainfall on the crest trail was a thundershower that lasted probably an hour. However what we experienced Friday night was a steady rain that lasted all night long, and into the morning. As you can imagine we got up Saturday morning with our spirits dampened, and since the rain was still steady we decided on a plan B for the day. Rather then ascending 3000 feet to the top of Mount Mitchell we would ascend the steps of the nearest diner for a good homecooked country breakfast. We then headed home, thankful for the enjoyable time Friday night, and looking forward to when we can attempt the Mount Mitchell Trail another time.
Having arrived home, I sit here now, not just as one who has stood atop the east coast, but also as one who has spent all afternoon cleaning, drying, and putting away sopping wet gear and clothes. I feel bad for Kevin and Paul since they didn’t get to do much hiking besides the jaunt out to the falls, but at the same time I feel very satisfied with the trip, having for the most part done what I set out to do, the Black Mountain Crest Trail. Oh and no, I dont think it will be the last time I do that trail, as long as the Lord blesses me with the ability. Something as enjoyable as that not only needs to be done again, but needs to be shared. I can’t wait till next time!




