Bartram Trail from Warwoman Dell

It was my first solo backpacking trip in a long time, and I was nervous about going alone.  I was pushing my comfort zone on the weather-- forecast was for cold and rainy.  I made it to the trailhead (Warwoman Dell) by listening to my CD mix of happy, inspiring, empowering music.  I started hiking by telling myself that I could always turn around and go home if I got too scared, but just to try hiking for a little bit and see what would happen.

But within the first half hour of hiking (north up the Bartram Trail), even though there was hardly any rain, I saw tree foam!  It seemed like magic to spot that bright sparkle at the base of a tree.  But there it was bubbling and glistening.  My whole mood shifted, I could feel the fierce grip on my hiking poles soften, and my body relax.  After that, I had those moments of hiking bliss where the worries in my head disappeared and I experienced flow.

Tree foam!

When it got dark, I found a stealth spot to camp out of view from the trail.  By the time I hung the bear rope and hammock, it was only 6:30-- but already very dark and cold.  What do you do, alone in the woods?  I am not fond of campfires, and I didn't want to night hike in case I couldn't find the way back to my campsite, which was carefully hidden.  But since I was alone, I realized I could do whatever I wanted to, and there was no one for miles around to care.  The songs I'd listened to on the drive up crept into my head.

And I started to dance.  Slowly at first.  Then, with complete and happy abandon.  Dancing alone under the clouds, hands waving in air, rocking out, twirling, swishing, feeling happy in my body, moving enough to stay warm despite the falling temperatures.  Moving to the music in my head, then to the music of the wind in the trees.  The clouds parted occasionally, beams of moonlight casting shadows on the forest.  Bliss.

I zipped up into my hammock by 7:30, completely content.  Drops of rain started to fall on the tarp, but I was cozy warm.  I slept long and more comfortably than I ever do at home.  By morning the clouds had parted again, and I watched the sunrise from the comfort of my hammock.

I was glad I pushed myself by going out alone, despite my fears.  I needed all that time to reflect and relax, and be by myself.  And I had everything I could ever need out there alone.

Winter Hiking: Cheaha Wilderness

View at McDill Point in the Cheaha Wilderness.  Wearing a skirt I sewed myself.

This weekend, Still Waters and I went out to scout the Pinhoti- Cave Creek Loop which winds 7.2 miles through the Cheaha Wilderness of Alabama, two hours west of Atlanta.  The overall elevation change was gentle, but the trail featured delightful boulder fields perfect for rock hopping and romping.  This was a great hike for winter because there were lots of views that would have been covered up had there been leaves on the trees.  We followed these very good (and entertaining) directions paying particular attention not to miss any of the side trails.

Part of this loop hike took us along the Pinhoti Trail, which is another long distance trail that extends through Alabama and Georgia and connects to the Appalachian Trail.  I've hiked other sections of this trail including through the Dugger Wilderness as well as parts in Georgia, and every time it inspires me to spend more time exploring this trail.

Only 2,504 miles to Kathadin.

The viewpoint out at McDill Point was especially worth the 1/4 mile trip down the side path.  There, we had lunch out of the icy wind, and gazed in wonder at one particular tree in the valley below that still clung to its red leaves.  It was surrounded by a forest of green pine and the bare brown branches of other deciduous tree that had all already lost their leaves.  It stood out so brightly, all by itself.

Single bright red lone tree in a forest of pine and bare trees.

In the absence of plants and fungi, my usual favorite things to investigate on the trail, the moss/ lichen provided endless sources of fascination.  Seeing such incredible diversity almost makes me want to learn more about them and figure out how to identify them.  Until I looked at the guide to lichen that  my co-worker showed me.  I was drooling over the photos, but am completely intimidated by the keys, and the book is way too massive to take into the field.  I think I'll stick with admiring the lichen from afar for now, even though I know I'm missing out on that joyful wonder that only comes for me from a more in-depth understanding of organisms when I learn more about their ecology and natural history.

Beautiful lichen

The rocks were another highlight of the hike.  They were lovely shades of gray and white, and were unmistakably not-Georgia rocks like I'm used to seeing.  They made neat stacked formations, and in other places were piled up in boulder fields. 

Rock formations

Winter Hiking: NOC to Fontana

Fall seemed to last forever this year, but now it's finally over and winter is here.  The cold, wind, soft light, and short days make me quiet and contemplative.  These are my favorite things to do while hiking this time of year:

1. Sunrise doesn't come until late in the morning.  Be out hiking as the sun rises.

Climbing out of Stecoah Gap with fog in the valley.

2. Without flamboyantly dazzling fall color all around for distraction, small bursts of red stand out.  Investigate the detail of each leaf and the texture of bark and branching patterns of trees.

3.  Notice how each milkweed pod bursts open in a slightly different manner.  Each one beautiful sparkling in the sunlight.  Each one dispersing its seeds to the wind.  Yet all different forms, arrangements, and (I'd swear) personalities.

4. Climb high up onto the backbone of ancient mountain ranges.  Hike along ridgelines that offer continuous view in both directions.  With such a remarkably clear perspective, discover where you are and where you are heading.

Mountain backbone.

View from Cheoah Bald

5. Play.  Climb trees.  Skip.  Sing.  No one else is around.  The trees will dance with you.

Dancing trees.

The photos were taken during Thanksgiving weekend on two dayhikes in the Appalachian Trail in North Carolina:

Day 1: Stecoah to the Nantahala Outdoor Center.
13.6 miles.
Zero other people.
One piliated woodpecker.

Day 2. Fontana Marina to Stecoah.
14 miles.
Two people.
At least 12 milkweed pods.

Arkaquah Trail to Brasstown Bald

The Arkaquah Trail rises steeply for 5.6 miles from Track Rock Gap trailhead to the Brasstown Bald parking area.  From there, it's another 0.6 miles to the summit of the tallest peak in Georgia.  My guidebook says this trail gains 2,000 feet and that the "elevation change from gap to bald is greater than that of any other trails or combination of trails of equal or shorter length in North Georgia."  What more could you want?

Leslie and her friend Heather met me on a cold, windy, overcast morning.   Track Rock Gap Archealogical Area, near the trailhead, contains impressive petroglyphs and is well-worth a detour on the side-trail to go check it out.

Well-done interpretive signs

Petroglyphs

The trail climbs relentlessly the first two miles.  Most of the leaves were off the trees at this elevation.

One lone little tree still showing some color.

Lovely but dead monarch.

 Upon reaching the ridge, the tower on top of Brasstown Bald looked like a speck on the horizon. 

The trail continued along the ridge with views off to both sides.  Just when we started to think the walking was getting easy, the trail would start to climb, or, worse, descend steeply, only to climb again.

Ridge walking

We'd get occasional views of the tower, off in the distance, getting bigger ever so slowly.  We knew we were getting close when we finally saw some other hikers.  At the summit, a few rays of sun poked through the clouds.  This is one beautiful trail and one great workout.

Savage Gulf Backpack

I know I say this after every trip, but Savage Gulf State Park in Tennessee is one of the most beautiful places I've ever visited.   This unique gorge has limestone cliffs and lots of waterfalls.  I was delighted to join JJ, on her annual 3-night backpacking trip, along with Greg, who also knows all the trails, and my friend Kristen.

After filling out our permits at the Stone Door Ranger Station, we followed the Stone Door Trail to our first breathtaking view, before descending into the gorge.  The autumn leaves were lovely red, orange, and richly brown, we ohhed and ahhed at the scenery.  At the valley floor, we turned to follow the Connector Trail towards Hobbs Campsite.  The swinging bridges were especially fun because they swayed forward and back and side to side, making it easy to bounce along joyfully.

View of Savage Gulf

Hiking through the "Stone Door"

Swinging bridges. Photo by JJ

The terrain was rocky and challenging due to rain-soaked rocks and leaves.  Kristen's shoes had lost their traction and she had the most difficult time of all, and by the end of the day she was feeling tired and unwell.

The next morning, the plan was to cover 20 miles.  We set out at a quick pace along the North Rim Trail to overlooks revealing wisps of fog sparkling in the valley.  Kristen still wasn't feeling well, and made the difficult but smart decision to end her trip early by hiking out to the ranger station.  We hiked with her most of the way, and she set off down a side trail assuring us that she'd be fine by herself.  About a mile later, I started feeling bad and doubted if I should continue on myself.  I was wearing new boots, and blisters were erupting on my toes and my foot was swelling up.  All I could think about was the pain of each step, and I realized I was no longer looking around at the beauty around me and I certainly wasn't having fun.  I was overwhelmed by the pain, and there were still 13 more miles to our designated campsite.  I knew I could do it if I absolutely had to-- I certainly had an abundance of energy, but I doubted I could keep up the pace with JJ and Greg without causing further damage to my foot.  And I kept thinking of Kristen making her way to the ranger station, and so I decided to bail from the hike along with her.  So I turned around and headed after Kristen.

I'd never done anything like that before, and I was upset with myself for wearing new shoes (and probably carrying too much packweight creating additional stress on my feet on the rocks the previous day).  The worst was being so embarrassed that I wasn't going to tough it out, and that I was a quitter, that I was struggling so much.  My ego was crushed.  I mentally beat myself up and tried to hold back my tears.

I caught up with Kristen after just a short while.  Then, step by step, everything started getting better.  Walking at a slightly slower pace, my foot stopped hurting so much.  Kristen and I talked.  I ate lunch.  I started enjoying the hike and scenery again.  When we got to the ranger station, Kristen call her husband (at no charge- THANK YOU TN State Parks!) and her husband agreed to pick us up the following morning.

It felt like Kristen and I were on vacation or playing hooky.   We lounged around on the picnic tables and soaked in the sun.  Filling up water bottles and using the heated bathrooms at the ranger station felt delightfully wicked.  We hiked to Savage Falls and then our campsite two miles away.  The evening was spent relaxing,  laughing, and doing yoga.   My feet felt much better after airing them out and bandaging up the blisters properly.  Sure I was disappointed that I had only done 10 miles instead of our planned 20, but I realized I made a choice to take care of myself and that was OK. 

At the ranger station

Savage Falls

Our pair of warbonnet blackbird hammocks.

Kristen's husband arrived early the next morning.  I was feeling much better and Kristen helped me figure out a plan to continue my hike and meet back up with JJ and Greg.  We drove to another trailhead where they took a stroll, and dropped me off.  I was hoping JJ and Greg stayed with the original planned route and campsites so I could meet back up with them but I also left a note on their car just in case I missed them somehow.  (When I left them, I hadn't told them my plan since I didn't have one, so they had no way of knowing I was looking for them.)  First, I made a beeline for the food cache, calculating they'd be there without hours to pick up provisions for the rest of the trip.  Fortunately, the food was still there when I arrived, so I was able to retrieve my own food and leave a note.

Leaving a note at the food cache

Next, I headed down the Big Creek Gulf Trail.  At the Sinks, which is where Big Creek disappears underground, I stopped for refreshingly icy but refreshing "shower" at a waterfalls.

The Sinks, where Big Creek disappears underground

By afternoon, I climbed back up out of the gorge to stunningly beautiful Alum Gap campsite on the rim.  I set up camp, and was thrilled when Greg and then JJ finally arrived.  We sat around the campfire as the sun faded and the moon came out, sharing stories of our adventures. 

Sunset at Alum Gap campsite

The next morning, we followed the Big Creek Rim trail back to the overlook when we began our trip.  We lingered there for a long time, not wanting the trip to end.

Photo by JJ

This is the list of changes I made to my pack this trip:

1. Trash compactor bag pack liner.  This is lighter and said to be more waterproof than a pack cover.  The hard part for me was deciding what goes in the liner, because when I seal it up it provides limited access to those items.  (i.e. Does the first aid kit go in the liner so it doesn't get wet, or do I leave it out to get at the bandaids?  If I wear my fleece hat because I'm cold in the AM while hiking it doesn't get safely stored away either.)

2.  Leaving behind my cell phone.  This was the first trip I've traveled without at least one cell phone, and also one trip where we actually needed to make a phone call.  Fortunately, the ranger station was open and making the phone call was no problem.

3. Leaving behind my sunglasses and hat.  Not sure I'd do this every trip, but every bit helps and I didn't miss them too much.

4. Repackaging my hand sanitizer into a smaller dropper bottle.  This worked well!

5. Back to going stoveless.  I left behind my stove, but did get a hot meal the first night because JJ and Greg packed in hot dogs and let me tell you they were really delicious!  On the other nights, I stayed warm at night by wrapping myself in my underquilt and huddling around the fire, and eating a cold, but calorie-rich snack before bed.

Back to Being a Beginner (Part 2: Backpacking)

After backpacking frequently this summer, I've been feeling confident and comfortable with my gear and routine.   In preparation for teaching two beginner backpacking trips for the Trail Dames, I spent time thinking about backpacking and developing my philosophy to the extent that I could explain it to others.  My ego grew enough that I even considered myself an "intermediate" backpacker.  But then I took a backpacking class a few weeks ago taught by lightweight backpacker JJ (trip report here) and was introduced to lightweight backpacking techniques.  I find myself back to being a "beginner" again and rethinking everything I thought I knew. 

At first I admit it was frustrating-- hadn't I already figured this stuff out?  But I quickly embraced the excitement of learning new techniques and the thrill of challenging old ways of thinking.  I shifted to the Beginner's Mind-- to being open to the joy of trying new things and am now so excited about learning about going lighter-weight.

This past weekend, I went on an overnight backpacking trip from Tellico Gap to Winding Stair Gap along the Appalachian Trail in North Carolina.  JJ provides a trip report here.  This was a great trip not just because of the wonderful companionship and scenic splendor of the fall leaves and the beauty of the snow remaining on north facing slopes.  It also stood apart because we did a bunch of things that got me out of my old routine:

1. Paying for a shuttle.  Ron Haven shuttled us from Winding Stair Gap up to Tellico Bald.  Not only did this save us driving time, but got benefit of stories-- especially local history and origin of names such as Wayah Bald (from wolf/ warrior in Cherokee).

2.  Water cache.  Springs have been low or not flowing recently, so JJ set up two water caches.  Because I knew for sure where water was located, for one of the first times ever, I hiked with less than my normal (excessive) amount.   This made me nervous, but I still did it and realized that I (shockingly) did not die of dehydration. I appreciated having less weight to carry, because 1 L of water weighs 2.2 lbs.

Hidden behind some leaves...

...our water cache.

3. Hot dinner.  I've been going stoveless for a while, but JJ lent me her lightweight esbit stove and showed me how to use it.  I think that having a hot dinner helped keep me warmer.

Learning to use the esbit stove.  Photo by Monica.

3. Nighttime snack.   I "always" hang my bear bag before dark, which means I never eat after sunset.   But on this trip we had a "late night" snack of JJ's delicious brownies, and that energy-rich snack kept my body fueled and toasty warm all night.

4. Camping on the bald.  Normally, I camp at middle-elevations under dense canopy.  But camping on the bald allowed us a spectacular sunset lighting up red leaves and view of the clear night sky.  It was thrilling to spot half-dozen shooting stars, the milky way, satellites moving across the sky, and a million stars.  I ate my breakfast while watching the sunrise and fog swirling in valleys around mountaintop islands.

Hammock and tents right near Wayah Bald

Sunrise and moon.

Breakfast with a view. Photo by Monica.

5.  Setting up the hammock in dark (AND while wearing my new fingerless gloves).  I loved the challenge of hanging my hammock in the dark (even though it did take me twice as long!).  I had to completely understand the process more thoroughly because I couldn't rely on visual cues.  I did end up needing to make adjustments after I was all zipped up, but in the future, you can bet I'm not gonna forget to check these things while setting up next time!  Also, I tried something new that kept my head insulated underneath- tying my purple windbreaker sleeve to the ridge-line so it hung down under my head.  It stayed put rather than sliding down during the night.  I slept warm and more soundly than I ever do at home.

Warm in my hammock with purple windbreaker under my head.

Things I will consider doing different next time:

1. Retire my old heavy boots.  I was worried about cold feet in the cold and snow, so I wore my old gortex high-top hiking boots, and they gave me blisters and were too tight.  I missed my lightweight, low cut comfy hiking shoes that I'd switched to in the spring.

2.  Bring only one map.  I typically bring two maps, one AT map with elevation profile and water sources, and one Trail Illustrated Map showing larger scale perspective.  I could have done without the Trails Illustrated map because we had a shuttle driver take us to the trailhead so I didn't need it for the forest service road details.

Checking my map.  Photo by JJ.

3.  Bring less food.  I brought too many extra snacks, anticipating eating more in the cold weather.  But I ended up eating the same amount as usual.  Perhaps because I stayed warm by staying moving.

Trail lined with snow.

But the main thing I got from this trip was the wonderful feeling of having the "beginner" mindset-- maintaining curiosity, experimenting, and questioning my assumptions about the ways to do things.  It's about sticking with new things even though they are uncomfortable at first, and practicing until it becomes second nature.  It's also about laughing and not holding on to tight to anything.

Back to Being a Beginner (Part 1: Fabrics)

In addition to taking trapeze class, for the past year I've been learning another type of aerial dance, fabrics.  Fabrics requires more strength and skill, and I find it exceedingly difficult.  I've come close to tears, been full of frustration, and contemplated quitting countless times.  I stay with it only because it is exceedingly beautiful, it pushes me physically to totally new levels, and because I love my teachers and classmates.  But each week I have to give myself a pep talk before I can open the door of the studio.

With the start of the new class session, two thirds of the students in our class advanced to the next level.  The rest of us stayed behind.  It felt like being held back a grade and returning to "remedial" beginner class.   I know I was slow and timid learning the new tricks and many of the other students were much stronger.  Fabrics class is more difficult than anything physically I've done--  I also take trapeze class, and quickly master new tricks and feel strong in that class.  But fabrics is a different story--  sometimes my body just refuses to do the moves.  I try over and over again, muscles quivering.  I get so frustrated watching my classmates do the moves that I can't do.  When I saw my old classmates who advanced to the intermediate class, it didn't make me feel too good about myself.  Why should I continue if I wasn't a "natural" like all of them?

But during our beginner class, I started to have more fun.  We reviewed old tricks, and I could focus on technique and challenging myself to try them higher up in the air, and I found I could do some things I'd never been able to do before.  A few times I got caught up in the moment-- spinning, climbing high, twisting, flying.  Sure I was in the "slow" class, but that didn't matter because I was finally dancing and it felt beautiful.  I was finally achieving flow, because the level of difficulty of the class matched my ability.

I love fabrics because it teaches me life lessons.  How I compare myself to others.  How only when I believe in myself can I do certain moves.  How when I hesitate, I fail.  I see the importance of intense concentration and attention to form.  I also appreciate feeling what it is like to be the slow one, because it makes me realize that I'm doing this for the process of learning and not for any goal.  I savor doing something for the pure joyful experience.