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Kurt's Hikes: Feb. 8-9, 2013
Matthew and Aden as we were transitioning from fall to winter.
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Kurt's Hikes: Feb. 8-9, 2013
Aden and Matthew practice soccer throw-ins way out of season.
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Kurt's Hikes: Feb. 8-9, 2013
Aden and Matthew practice soccer throw-ins way out of season.
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Kurt's Hikes: Feb. 8-9, 2013
Carl's a shot of Matthew under Guillotine Rock – on the AT between Apple Orchard Mountain and Thunder Ridge Shelter – to scare Mom and grandmoms.
Long long ago--as early as the 1930s when he was a young man--the great-grandfather/grandfather/father of the five men on this overnight hike began a hiking life that spanned parts of eight decades and pieces of the Appalachian Trail in most of its 14 states. He took me along to Maine when I was nine, for example, where we spent most of a summer on the Appalachian Trail. Now 96, he has been retired from hiking for 11 years, to his ongoing dismay and longing.
In that context, and the resulting reality that he was with us in some manner on this walk . . .
Dear Walter,
Wanted to let you know that a bunch of your progeny – both biological and spiritual – were out in the woods in the snow the weekend of February 9-10. This was (I know you don't do birthdays all that well, so I'm going to remind you of ages for all of us), Eric (32) and his son Aden (10), Carl (30) and his son Matthew (10), and me (old enough to know better than to try to sleep on a shelter floor, even with a mat, aka 66).
We started out at the base of the Apple Orchard and Cornelius Creek trails, in the Jefferson National Forest in Botetourt County, Va. As we got out of the car, it was sunny and 41 degrees – nearly perfect for hiking once you get going, but certainly a little chilly to start. A nice crisp fall day in February, you could say.
As we made our way up the two miles of trail along North Creek to the 200-foot falls that is a prime attraction for this walk, the snow cover, at first a little patch here and there in the shade, became increasingly present. By the time we reached the falls, we had walked out of fall and into winter, as the forest was covered with about two inches, and big icicles hung here and there on the outer edges of the falls. We'd thought about lunch at the falls, but the first observation deck had falls water running across it, and the upper one had a thorough layer of icy snow all over it. We settled on a sunny spot out of the wind not far above the falls, and busted out the good stuff: pepperoni and cheese on bagels, peanut-butter on bread, Cheezits and some dark chocolate, as we three older men are pretty good at looking out for the food aspect of a hike.
From there, we made our way through increasingly deep snow to the intersection with the Appalachian Trail, where we turned north toward Apple Orchard Mountain – at 4,225 feet, the highest mountain on the AT headed north till you get to Vermont.
It was true winter on top of the mountain: four inches of crusted snow, a cold breeze from the west, as blue a sky as you'll see, views into West Virginia in that direction and equally distant spots in the other directions. The two younger men talked about wanting to climb up to the "giant soccer ball" that sits atop the mountain.
The cold and the lowness of the sun sent us pretty quickly on our way toward Thunder Ridge Shelter – another 1.2 miles through snow and on the north face of the big mountain – to assure we had some daylight left to get a fire built and our beds made.
It is, especially in the winter, all about the shoes, and while I know you don't care much for some of today's hiking technology and accoutrements (no, we didn't carry canteens, we carried water bladders with a bite valve at the end of the feeder tube), four of the five us were pretty well off, with, you know, billion-dollar waterproof hiking shoes from birthdays and Christmas and such. Only Eric, walking in an old pair of low-cut summer shoes, upheld the retro tradition of getting your feet really wet when you walk in the snow. As likely the least-complaining among us of such things, if it had to be someone . . .
And adding to the challenge: There had been steps before us in the snow up the Apple Orchard Trail, but when we got to the AT headed north, Eric's steps – he led us most of the hike – were the first in the snow. He also made the first tracks down the mountainside and across the desolate-looking, snow-covered, deer-tracked Blue Ridge Parkway, which looked like it might have been abandoned years ago.
He got a little bit of justice when he got to bundle up his feet in his zero-degree bag when we got to the shelter while the rest of us gathered wood and got the fire going. Aden and Matthew did a fine job--avoiding rhododendron as they gathered the driest wood they could; though they did bring back one formerly live tree that they'd taken down with the machete.
Eric got out his Primus stove--you wouldn't believe how they've changed since the one you used to carry; maybe kind of like the difference between the first computer and a laptop--and fired up the evening's version of the famous Schlop. This one, which included some canned soup as well as the usual rice and dried vegetables, was nearly too polished to qualify for the Schlop title. Hot and good there in the dark on the front edge of Thunder Ridge Shelter as the night sky began to fill with bright, distinct stars.
With breath visible, your shoes frozen and no coals left in the fire, no one was in a hurry to climb out of his sleeping bag, and if there was ever a moment for blaming Carl for getting us out here it might have been then. But with the sun coming up in front of the shelter, we all made our way out of the bags, built a new fire and traded the inevitable notes on how we slept. My worries that I'd not gotten much at all were answered immediately by Aden: "No, Papa, you definitely slept, because you definitely snored."
Snore-King Carl definitely did too, as all his shelter mates attested immediately.
The good breakfast was oatmeal, hot chocolate, fire-toasted bagels with honey and granola bars. The good pack-up was highlighted by two 10-year-olds who are smooth and efficient with the pads, bags, gloves, hats and other essentials for winter hiking. Their tidy, ship-shape packs at the ready spoke well for their abilities as hikers in the elements. Once you got over the look of their ultra-modern packs ("What are all those straps and pockets and suspension devices and clips? It looks more like a rocket ship than a backpack. We used to do just fine with a simple canvas pack, you know."), you'd have been completely proud of what accomplished hikers and campers they both are.
The good day's walk began soon after with the re-ascent of the north face of Apple Orchard Mountain. Eric had worked hard to dry his shoes and socks near the fire, and if he complained about how quickly I'm sure they began to get wet again, I didn't hear it.
We paused on top of the mountain to get some shots of Aden and Matthew doing soccer throw-ins with the installation up there; see attached photos for what that means.
From there, it was back down the AT, past the Apple Orchard intersection to the descent along the Cornelius Creek Trail. Our lunch spot was at one of the places where the recent heavy rain caused the rearranging of things, with a new cut of stream and new boulders uncovered – new geography from what The Day Hiker and I had seen when we walked it last, back in November. Once again, the Primus served us well, as Eric fried up pepperoni slices and topped them with cheese that melted nicely and made for a great-tasting crunchy sandwich on whole wheat bread. We did a good job of cleaning out the food bags, finishing off crackers, bars and the dark chocolate.
After lunch, there was just the two miles or so on down the old-forest-road trail, though it too had been torn up in spots by the heavy flow from the rain. At the car, there was a brief comparison of whose hair – coming out from under sleep and a two-day hat – looked goofiest. Carl – again some justice for having us out in the winter (though of course we were all pleased to be there) – might have been the winner.
After that, we were on our way home to everyone's first goal – the good hot shower we'd all five earned well.
Wish you could have been along.
Love,
Kurt
Apple Orchard, Appalachian Trail, Cornelius Creek loop. 12.2 miles