BlueRidge360

Circle of Life: A Linville Gorge Story

Though I have no pictures to share, for in those days I did not carry
a camera, my story is nonetheless burned in my memory in
high-definition. It is a story that both took me out of my earthbound
existence into the reaches of space, and more fully humbled me on the
face of the earth.

The setting is Linville Gorge Wilderness, in North Carolina's Blue
Ridge Mountains.

The time is the peak of autumn in October; the leaves were their most
glorious colors of red, orange and yellow in many years.

The characters are space, time, and Mother Nature. Myself and a
climbing partner, who shall be known as Windbreak, played roles as
mere witnesses to the drama.

Windbreak, and I arrived later-than-desired at the parking area of
Table Rock about 2 PM. We had hoped to get a full day of climbing on
the North Carolina Wall on the East side of Linville Gorge, but
needless delays getting on the road and some navigational challenges
had quashed those plans. Now, with only 3 hours of daylight left, it
looked like tonight would just be a camping trip.

The weather was dismal, compared to what we expected. The forecast
had called for blue skies after the passing of a front, but the trees
dripped from the wetness of a chill fog that drifted through the gap.
We grudgingly accepted our fate, deciding to continue our trip.
Maybe it's just remnants of the front, Windbreak said hopefully. We
finished packing our food and got on the trail heading south along the
east rim of the Gorge.

The trail was carpeted with leaves of many hues: reds and oranges
from the maples, yellows and browns from the sourwoods, hickories and
oaks. It provided a cheering break from the grayness of the sky. We
hiked in silence, the ridgeline forest a hushed silence punctuated
only by our footfalls and the occasional exception of Windbreak
fulfilling his name.

When we arrived at the Chimneys, we stopped to drink some water. The
wind had picked up a bit, and we could see west though breaking clouds
across the Gorge. It looked like maybe some rain was coming our way.
More fog drifted by, obscuring our view, then, the fog broke, and
sure enough, a nasty looking squall-line was looming toward us.

Knowing that we would get no climbing in today, and preferring to
enjoy our evening in camp rather than hiking in rain, we scrambled for
cover. Windbreak found a flattish area between two cliffs. We used
some climbing hardware and a stunted pine to anchor a tarpline and
pitched a nice shelter, protected from weather.

And the winds picked up, suddenly striking the Chimneys ridge with a
whooshing gust. Rain began flying. It made it hard to hear as it
beat out its arrhythmia on the tarp. Snug inside, we threw our pads
and sleeping bags on the ground, pulled out the stove and brewed some
tea. We chatted indifferently and listened to the varying intensity
of the storm that had hampered our plans.

After an hour or so, the rain let up. Then, in what seemed like an
instant, the sun broke through! We poked our heads out to be greeted
by a perfectly clear sky overhead. The light of late afternoon lent a
beautiful warm-yellow cast to the wet rocks and colors of a splendid
autumn.

We were amazed at how fast the rain cleared out. That system moved
fast! We scrambled to the top of the ridge (it only took a couple of
minutes). There, from our aerie perch, we could see the retreating
storm out to the east. And underneath the slate-gray backdrop of
clouds was the most amazing double rainbow! They were perfect
half-circles of light that glowed with an intensity that made it look
as if they themselves were the source of the light, rather than merely
refracting the light of the sun.

We high-fived at our good fortune to see this spectacle. The
depressing delays getting to the mountain were now not only forgotten
and forgiven by us, but seemed as if they were fated to allow us to
witness this glorious destiny.

As the storm rapidly roared east over the foothills of North Carolina,
the rainbows lasted strongly for maybe 15-20 minutes. We savored
every moment of this scene seemingly brushed by the Creator more than
the art afficianado relishes the sight of a work by Monet.

Neither of us had ever seen such perfectly formed double-arcs, nor had
we been in a place to see them from end-to-end. It was truly
phenomenal. As the storm receded into the distance the rainbows
weakened into merely small and irregular arcs as the rain pattern
changed. We turned to clamber back down to our camp.

We could tell that this was the cold front that we had expected to
have cleared out by midday. Better late than never! With nothing
better to do, we decided to have an early dinner, cowboy camp where we
were, and get an "alpine start" (pre-dawn) for the North Carolina Wall.

We enjoyed a simple dinner of pasta and cheese, apples, crackers and a
flask of wine. Because our camp was near the ridge, we also got to
look across the Gorge and witness a beautiful sunset over Mount
Mitchell and the Black Mountain Range as they lumped up against the
golden-orange rays. The entire western sky was an orange wash
punctuated by sparse trailing clouds. Windbreak suggested we could
see the fabled "green flash" that occurs when the sun sets on the
horizon. I had heard of it from sailing, and thought it was only
visible at sea.

As the sun touched the horizon, we scrambled back to the top of the
ridge for a better view. And as we got there, out to the east, a fat,
full, harvest moon greeted us! We could not believe our good fortune!
Neither of us expected this, as we had not kept track of the lunar
cycle recently. The moon was a gorgeous cream-yellow, and the Man in
the Moon smiled happily at us, while we grinned like fools back at the
awesomeness of Mother Nature.

We kept glancing back and forth from sunset to moonrise, our view
unimpeded by any obstruction. Our perch allowed us to witness the
turning of the earth. Never before have I so fully experienced the
circularity of the earth's rotation. The celestial bowl above us
began filling with stars, while tears filled my eyes at the grandeur
before me. I have never felt so humbled by the massiveness of space,
knowing that I am but a speck of life in the immensity of the universe.

Though the wind was not strong, it was quite chill, and our hands and
ears began suggesting we return to our camp. And so we did. Since we
knew no more rain would come, we took down the tarp. The rocks around
us provided sufficient protection from the wind. We had nice
down-filled sleeping bags to guard us from what would be a frosty
night, and we snugged down inside them, a blanket of stars over our heads.

We set the alarms on our watches for a half hour before dawn. We
wanted to get going early, but not TOO early, in what would surely be
a chilly start to the day.

In the middle of the night, I had to get up to pee. I opened my eyes,
looking for the moon to get an idea of what time it was. I had to
search, and finally found it, directly overhead. Only it wasn't a
full moon anymore, it was a thin red crescent. That meant it was
being eclipsed by the earth! After taking care of my business, I woke
Windbreak to show him.

The scenes had just kept piling up. First the rushing of a squall line
followed by perfect clear skies. Then double-rainbows. Sunset.
Moonrise. Lunar eclipse. What else would we witness?! We enjoyed
the show for awhile, but lunar eclipses move slowly, and I fell back
to sleep.

When the alarm went off, we roused and looked west across the Gorge.
The full moon was at the horizon, fat and white. We knew that the sun
would be rising as the moon set, so after dressing in some warm
clothes, and getting our water going on the stove, we clambered back
up to the ridge where we again were grateful witnesses to the dual
show of a moonset, and a sunrise. The spectacle of the earth's
rotation and the orbit of the moon around the earth, and the earth
around the sun now had a more profound meaning.

I thought of the shepherds and the seafarers and the farmers and the
fishermen who, for millennia, had witnessed such events on a regular
basis, unencumbered by electric lights, and the conveniences of
industrialized civilization. They knew the beauty and the grandeur of
Nature, and worked with its rhythms of light and dark, of days and
seasons turning, and the humility of standing before such Creation.
Now, I too shared in some of this humility.

As the warming light of the morning sun became more intense, the view
of the Black Mountains and the Roan Highlands became more distinct,
and the shadow of the Chimney Ridge crept down the West Rim of the
Gorge. We breakfasted on oatmeal and coffee, and packed camp.

Soon, we would be climbing Bumblebee Buttress, two specks enjoying a
carefree day on the crags of Carolina, the point of our journey having
been upstaged by the very circle of life in which we exist.

Southern Sixers

Mount Mitchell--Highest Peak in Eastern U.S. (6,684')

57 Blue Ridge Mountains Soar Above Six Thousand Feet

If you want to get mile-high, you can do it the natural way in the Blue Ridge province. Over 55 named peaks soar higher than 6000 feet above sea level, all of them in North Carolina or Tennessee. The only other place above 6000 feet east of the Rockies (on terra firma) is Mount Washington in New Hampshire at 6288 feet.

The highest summit in eastern North America is Mount Mitchell at 6684 feet above sea level---and it is right here in the Blue Ridge of North Carolina. While hardy adventurers challenge themselves with great hiking over 5 miles to the summit of Mount Mitchell from Black Mountain Campground, most folks drive their cars practically to the top, then ascend an easy 5 minute walk from the Visitor’s Center to the summit’s observation tower. On a clear day, spectacular 360 degree views abound, though the weather, even in summer, is perennially chilly or frigid air caused by the altitude and wind. You can peek at the online weather station at Mount Mitchell State Park is http://ils.unc.edu/parkproject/webcam/weather.html .

Why do so many lofty summits congregate in North Carolina and Tennessee? In geological terms, it is a coincidental intersection of continental drift, plate tectonics, and the lucky residue of the Wisconsin Ice Sheet from the last Ice Age. These conditions have scrunched, bunched and crunched the earth, forcing it to wrinkle upward to massive heights. In fact, many geologists speculate that the Southern Appalachians were---at one point eons ago---loftier than even the Himalayas, home to Mount Everest, the highest peak on earth. Though the current mountains are ancient eroded relics of peaks of phenomenal height, they still can inspire awe and command respect.

Mountain lovers who like to “peakbag” (hike/climb to the summit of a named peak) have their work cut out for them if they want to climb the “Southern Sixers.” But to help aspiring peak baggers, the Carolina Mountain Club has designated 40 of the Southern Sixers as the legitimate summits that can be climbed for an organized program which they call South Beyond Six-Thousand (SB6K).

(Why 40 summits? Well, two reasons: one summit is on private property, and thus inaccessible. The other reason has to do with how “prominent” a summit is from the terrain around it. The second r4eason is based on “prominence.” If a mountain or range has several smaller summits on it, all above 6000 feet, that does not mean that they are of equal value. Some may not “stick up” from the surrounding terrain much. Others may soar. So with this in mind, there are only 40 prominent summits worthy of inclusion in the South Beyond 6000 program. For purists, you may “bag” other named Sixers as part of the route to summit a program peak.)

Those individuals that show reasonable evidence they have summited all designated SB6K peaks in the proper way---on a hike of at least 5 miles to bag a minimum of one peak---will receive a patch. But not all peaks have trails to their summits; some require bushwhacking. Some are joys to climb with spectacular views from the summits; others are just hard work.

Mount LeConte (6, 593') in Great Smokies Nat. Park

The Southern Sixers are not all of equal value when it comes to their significance or relevance with regard to the surrounding terrain. Many may not play as prominent a role in the surrounding terrain as some less lofty mountains. For instance, most of the individual 6000’ summits along the Black Mountain range pale in comparison to the dominance that Grandfather Mountain (5,949’) commands over its surrounding terrain. The entire Black Mountain range is dominant, but the individual summits along the crest aren’t. On the other hand, Mt. LeConte (6593’) in the Smokies plays a much more prominent role in its surrounding terrain than Clingman’s Dome, at 6643’. This is due largely to its northwest-southeast orientation, at cross angles with most high peaks along the Smokies’ crest.

Not all Southern Sixers have views from the top (unless you call looking at dense foliage a view). Some have spectacular views in some direction, often from a rocky outcrop (or observation tower). But most do not. If we were to rate summit views (an interesting idea) then there are some 2000, 3000, 4000, and 5000+ foot summits that have more spectacular views. But they may not have the same weather, or challenge in summiting them.

In 2003 Ted. E. Keizer, a.k.a. “Cave Dog”, ran and hiked to all 40 summits, covering over 200 miles in one continuous footpath. And he did it in under 5 days (actually four days, 23 hours and 28 minutes. Although no official sanctioning body exists, he currently holds the unofficial speed climbing record for the South Beyond Six Thousand (SB6K) challenge. In a fanciful acknowledgement to the difficulty of the ordeal, he dubbed it “South Beyond Insanity Ultra-Marathon.” He was supported by numerous volunteers, who provided him with food and water when his path crossed roads, but he was the one who climbed all 40 peaks, and used no mechanized transport to traverse the route. His website http://www.thecavedog.com/Index.html reports this event.

For those who have more humble goals, you can access the Carolina Mountain Club’s SB6K program site here: http://www.carolinamtnclub.com/SB6K/SB6K%20Index.html . You can get a log and start your own peakbagging obsession.

As a point of interest, the list below shows the sequence of the SB6K summit climbs used by Ted E. Keizer in his South Beyond Insanity Ultramarathon.

#	SUMMIT	ALTITUDE	SUB-RANGE
1	Clingman’s Dome	6,643	Great Smokies
2	Mt. Collins	6,188	Great Smokies
3	Mt. Kephart	6,217	Great Smokies
4	Mt. LeConte	6,593	Great Smokies
5	Mt Sequoyah	6,003	Great Smokies
6	Mt. Chapman	6,417	Great Smokies
7	Mt. Guyot	6,621	Great Smokies
8	Old Black	6,307	Great Smokies
9	Mark’s Knob	6,169	Great Smokies
10	Mt. Yonaguska	6,180	Great Smokies
11	Luftee Knob	6,234	Smokies / Balsams
12	Big Cataloochee	6,155	Smokies / Balsams
13	Yellow Face	6,032	Plott Balsams
14	Waterrock Knob	6,292	Plott Balsams
15	Mt. Lynn Lowry	6,280	Plott Balsams
16	Plott Balsam	6,088	Plott Balsams
17	Richland Balsam	6,410	Great Balsams
18	Reinhart Knob	6,088	Great Balsams
19	Mt. Hardy	6,110	Great Balsams
20	Chestnut Bald	6,025	Great Balsams
21	Sam Knob	6,040	Great Balsams
22	Black Balsam Knob	6,214	Great Balsams
23	Tennet Mountain	6,047	Great Balsams
24	Grassy Cove Top	6,040	Great Balsams
25	Shining Rock	6,004	Great Balsams
26	Cold Mountain	6,030	Great Balsams
27	Craggy Dome	6,080	Craggy
28	Blackstock Knob	6,359	Black
29	Mt. Gibbes	6,571	Black
30	Mt. Hallback	6,329	Black
31	Mt. Mitchell	6,684	Black
32	Mt. Craig	6,647	Black
33	Balsam Cone	6,611	Black
34	Potato Hill	6,440	Black
35	Winter Star Mtn	6,212	Black
36	Gibbs Mountain	6,220	Black
37	Celo Knob	6,327	Black
38	Roan High Bluff	6,285	Roan-Unaka
39	Roan High Knob	6,267	Roan-Unaka
40	Grassy Ridge Bald	6,167	Roan-Unaka

Southern Appalachian Balds

Shining Rock Wilderness Area---above 6,000 feet

Mount Rogers National Recreation Area--above 5,000 feet

The word “Bald” conjures up images of mountains without any bushes or brush on top, as hirsute as a cue ball. Biologists have provided various explanations as to why these balds exist, as the elevation is too low for there to be a real “tree-line” as there is in the Rockies and Sierras (generally around 10,000 feet).

One reason for the balds existence may be due to a history of fires, which ravaged the tops of mountains and making the soil a challenging medium for the growth of trees. Some scientists suggest that Native Americans intentionally burned some of these regions to encourage the growth of blueberry and blackberry bushes, both which flourish in burned-out areas.

A known history of grazing is a second reason for the balds. In the 1800’s and early 1900’s. many farmers brought their cattle, sheep and goats to the mountaintops for grazing, which would have reduced shrub and tree growth, and expanded the grassy areas. In less obvious ways, this practice continues among the smaller fenced-in farms throughout the Blue Ridge.

A third reason that balds exist is that the Southern Appalachians were extensively logged during the great boom-times of our nation’s expansion in the 1800’s to early 1900’s. (Few old-growth trees still exist, but can still be found in rugged, out of the-way locales like the deep coves of the Smokies, Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest, and Linville Gorge.) It may be to believe as you look across the hundreds of thousands of acres of heavily wooded slopes of the Blue Ridge, but the forest you see is often less than a hundred years old! Some areas that may have had a difficult time recovering from these fires would have trended toward “baldhood,” and could have been further promoted by poor soil, grazing habits, and a desire by locals to keep the summits cleared.

Andrews Bald in the Smokies and Max Patch in Pisgah National Forest are both examples of balds that are now maintained to keep their bald-like nature. Crews cut back encroaching shrubs and trees, and even mow the grass at Max Patch, in order for these balds to provide the scenic beauty that humans covet.

There are two types of Southern Appalachian Balds, grassy balds and a heath-type of bald, in which the summit of a mountain is covered with low-lying heath, blueberry, and rhododendron bushes, and occasional highly stunted trees. Summiting these balds is disappointing, in that you expect great views, yet the low-growing shrubbery can often be higher than eye-level, thus making dreams of unrestricted vistas unfulfilled.

Grassy balds may present a mixture of grass and bushes and even the occasional wind-shaped tree. The grassy bald fully satisfies the explorer with an appetite for views, provided the weather cooperates. The grassy summits often allow stunning 360 degree vistas of the waves of mountains near and far. Spring offers the chances for wildflowers, and in the instance of the Roan Highlands, the chance to hike across a mixed-bald of grassy summits, and beautiful, lush rhododendron gardens. Summer brings warm weather, sunny mornings, and often stormy afternoons. (Being on a Southern Bald is a bad idea during a thunderstorm!) Autumn provides crisp air and spectacular vistas across the multi-colored landscape provided by the changing leaves. Winter offers the chance for the hardy-hiker to experience unparalleled clear air, snowy peaks, and phenomenal star-gazing.

Because all balds are unprotected from wind, be prepared and bring some sort of windbreaker, even on warm, sunny days. In the winter, you’d better dress for temps 20 degrees or more below the air temp, as windchills can easily get below zero! Exposed skin will freeze quickly, so hats, gloves and face protection can be essential.

Postcard View of Grandfather Mountain

Classic Postcard view of this famous peak. I couldn't resist taking this photo, even though it's sort of corny---a caricature of times past---like the early 70's when my family first went to Grandfather Mountain.

This view is taken from the motor road that leads up to the Visitor Center. It shows MacRae Peak (right) and Attic Window Peak (left). There is a nice little parking area here, and just down the road is a picnic area.

Ice Along the Blue Ridge Parkway

You have to love a day like today! Just enough ice to make the scenery sparkle, but not so much that they close the Blue Ridge Parkway! Went for a drive to snoop out the area near Blowing Rock and came upon this site. Looked like some promising photo ops, so I stopped and snapped a few. Not bad. I photographed this old barn about 20 years ago (in black and white), before they put a new roof on. It was more picturesque then, but I guess if they hadn't upgraded the roof, then the barn would be fallen-in by now. It's still pretty! I like the contrast of the red and the starkness of the winter scene.

View SouthWest from MacRae Peak

Here's a late September view from the mansion-sized "summit block" on MacRae Peak. You have to climb a 20 foot wooden ladder just to get on this block, so it's not for the faint of heart. This is an option on the Grandfather Trail, that crosses the summit spine of the Mountain. Note the Black Mountain range, home of Mount Mitcehll, the highest peak in eastern America, at 6, 684 feet. Also note the signature prominences of Tablerock Mountain (3,909') and Hawksbill (4,017'). Both these peaks stand tall on the East Rim of Linville Gorge Wilderness Area.

This trail is superb, a must-do for any hiker that loves the alpine experience. It is on private property (the Grandfather Mountain Preserve), so you must pay a user-fee, but this will keep away many who would just clutter up the landscape. Be prepared in winter for ice and high-winds, and changeable weather all year. The highest wind ever recorded in North Carolina occurred here a couple of winters ago (over 180 MPH---before the wind gauge broke!)