Blog - Page 12 of 20 - Marking The Miles

A Treasure Chest of Memories: White Rocks Recreation Area & Camel’s Hump

I grew up camping in Vermont. While other kids in school were going to Disney World, we would pack up the car and head up to the Green Mountains where we stored a little camper in a place called Camping On The Battenkill. My memories of this place are of happy times, exploring the trails, tubing down the river, catching frogs in butterfly nets, and crunching through the fallen leaves of colorful autumns. I wanted to share it with Rob. He’s heard me talk about Vermont so much that it was time for us to go. After a cancelled flight and a day and a half lost from our trip, we flew into Manchester, NH and drove over to Arlington where we’d be staying. As we entered the state I felt like we’d opened a time capsule. Everything existed in a state of sameness from when I was a kid. Some small business have closed in Manchester and Arlington looks decidedly older than it once did, but many of the shops are still there, owned by the same people, selling the same little things. The Equinox in Manchester is just as imposing as it once was, and the availability of artisanal cheese (as in it was made on a farm by people who don’t wear vests and have handlebar mustaches) and maple syrup is quite plentiful.

The first hike did was at a place called White Rocks in Wallingford. I’ve only ever done the ice beds trail which leads to a small overlook, but I wanted to climb to the top of the White Rocks boulder slide. This is accessed by taking the Long Trail/Appalachian Trail south.

The AT through Vermont is a much loved stretch of trail that is spoken of wistfully by Appalachian Trials bloggers, so I was excited to see at least a part of the trail. You head up the mountain for a ways before you come to a field of rock cairns in the middle of the woods. At this point, you make a right turn and head into a not very obvious section of trail that will lead you to the edge of the rocks. There are no sweeping views on this trail, but the forest is lovely and we ran into several people who were thru-hiking the Long Trail. One woman was with her daughter and was really proud of herself for making it the first 80 miles. She encouraged us to take the time off and do the trail because it’s a memorable, wonderful experience. Someday!!!

Once we came closer to the edge, the woods were strewn with granite boulders, mixed with blueberry bushes and fir trees, until you suddenly took a step and entered into a sweeping vista of the Taconic Mountain range. We sat on the rocks and breathed, taking it all in and enjoying the cool breezes.

The next day we headed up to Waterbury to meet up with a high school friend who I haven’t seen in 6 or 7 years to hike the Camel’s Hump, an iconic Vermont Trail that leads to a peak with 360 degree views. Seeing old friends immediately brings a feeling of home, and seeing Megan after keeping in touch all these years was the highlight of our trip for me. We headed to the trail, which Ryan was familiar with being quite the hiker himself. (These two are now engaged! See happy picture below. Also note their adorable dog Isla who handled the trail like a pro…and cheese)

This trail was freaking hard, but so incredibly rewarding. For the first time since I’ve started hiking, I had blisters on the back of both feet that bothered me the whole way up. I have no idea how people hike the AT with blisters. They are miserable and painful and just plain suck. This trail was incredible. I’ve gotten used to hiking in the Smokies where the inclines are gradual and go on for miles. Not so with New England trails. They basically go straight up and just paint the blazes on rocks.

We were scrambling up boulders and I eventually gave up on my trekking poles because I needed my hands to grab roots, trees, and rocks to pull myself up. I also couldn’t breathe, which really ticked me off because with all the hiking I’ve been doing, I thought I was in better shape…not so.

As we climbed higher, the views became more stunning as the Green Mountains spread out below us and you could even see far enough to catch glimpses of the Whites. This trail is unreal and I hope I get to do it again sometime.

We headed back down in an easier direction to go get some food and stop at the Cabot Cheese Annex on the way out of town, an absolutely dangerous thing to do. I only bought 4 bricks of cheese and have since regretted not just blowing the bucks and getting everything they had. It was all so delicious and they sold varieties of cheese I can’t find anywhere in the stores down here. I highly recommend the Tuscan Herb, which is impossible to find anywhere outside of VT. The day was full and lovely and perfectly sunny, and I was sad to see it end. Friends, beauty, love…what more does a person need?? My parents were also able to meet up with us on this trip, which was pretty fun too.

There were other parts of Vermont that were equally special, like exploring all the old nooks and crannies of the Vermont Country Store in Weston and running into a girl my age from Southold. What are the odds?! They have an old mill just off the square and the barn was open so we wandered around and looked at the woodworking tools, marveling at the skills of past artisans.

We also went to a lovely farm outside of Manchester and got to pet some animals.

And Merck Forest with its rolling fields and maple syrup house.

The last day of our trip we went to Hildene, which was absolutely as beautiful as I remember it to be. They now have a creamery with the sweetest, most adorable little goats, where you can learn about the cheese-making process.

And before we left for the airport, we stopped at the Bennington Monument and looked out over the mountains for one last glimpse of this lovely place until we return again.

Gregory Bald & Andrews Bald: Blossoms and Bears

This past weekend a good friend from college and I headed out to the Smokies to hike on some of the mountains known for their flame azaleas and rhododendrons. The second weekend of June this year seemed to be a bit early for the flame azaleas, but we lucked out and were able to see some bushes that were in full, glorious bloom.

The first hike we decided to tackle was Gregory Bald. During the time when Lisa and I were planning this trip, I saw lots of articles about how Gregory Bald is the best kept secret of the Smokies, how it’s the best place anywhere in the world to see flame azaleas, how it’s a must-see for adventurers who want views without the crowds…on and on. It was this description that clinched it for me though. The thing is, I completely agree with all those descriptions. Yes, the bald itself is incredible and I’ve never been in an environment like that before, part meadow, part blooming brushy hedge. However, the trail made me want to kill myself.

This is how the trail looked the entire way until we got to the top. Not terribly interesting forest with little air movement. Agh!

Maybe it was the fact that we’d had a little too much moonshine in Gatlinburg the night before, or maybe it was the lady problems we were both having, or maybe it was that we didn’t get the best night’s sleep in the dingy old hotel where we stayed, or maybe it was the giant biscuit we both ate for breakfast…all of these things combined in such a way that we felt really tired the morning we decided to do this hike. We got up pretty early and headed to the Cades Cove loop in an effort to beat the traffic only to discover that on Wednesdays and Saturdays Cades Cove doesn’t open to cars until 10 am. So we sat around and looked at the trail riding horses, waiting with hordes of people for the road to open. One hour later, after a visitor center stop and a bumpy dirt road, we were at the trailhead.

Once we had our gear strapped on, the ascent began. 5.5 miles up to the top with no downhill breaks whatsoever. We struggled 3,020 feet up the mountain through a sometimes-boring deciduous forest where at points there was zero air movement and sweat poured out of our gross, tired bodies. There were many stops along the way to catch our breath, grab a snack, drink some water, and then determinedly trudge on, ever thinking we were close because there wasn’t one damn sign or marker on that whole trail until you were .6 miles from the bald. Which, at least we knew we were .6 miles away, but hell, it seemed like we were surely closer than that.

When we finally did reach the bald I was at a loss for words. We started seeing bright dots of orange throughout the woods as we neared the bald, until we came out into a meadow covered in flame azaleas in every shade of orange, red, and bright pink. I’ve never seen anything like it. The trail led through an area of blueberry bushes, blackberry bushes, and azaleas so densely packed that you couldn’t see through them, then opened up into a grassy meadow where we could see farm fields and mountains for miles.

Lisa and I survived being music majors together in college, so this was a piece of cake in comparison to that. This year I’ve been so thankful for the adventurous women in my life who have literally climbed mountains with me…

At this point, the second weekend of June, the azaleas were just starting to bloom, so some of them were still budded and a few of them had already passed. If we’d been a week or two later, the explosion of color would have been dynamic. We sat and took in the scenery for a while before getting up to talk around the bald. A couple who’d been on the trail in front of us said there was a bear about 300 yards away in the bushes, so we immediately headed in that direction. There were several people on horseback who were yelling at the bear, and as we got closer a behemoth of a bear exited the azaleas, walked a short distance and went right back into the shrubbery. That was all we saw of him and I wasn’t able to get a picture, but he looked like the size of a small car and I took this picture in the gift shop to give some perspective on how utterly giant he was. We could see the bushes crashing around as he foraged for berries and eventually, he just wasn’t there anymore so we pet the horses and took some pictures with some really gorgeous shrubs.

As the day wore on, we decided to head back down the trail. We went back through the meadow and into the area where we first entered the bald. As we were neared the tree line of the woods we heard an enormous crash in the shrubbery directly next to us, like a semi was trying to make its way through the bushes. Lisa immediately grabbed the bear spray from my pack and we started yelling and banging our trekking poles together. The noise stopped and we stood there, hearts beating out of our chests, not knowing if the bear was going to keep coming or if it had decided to turn and retreat. We continued to listen and make noise and finally headed back down the trail…all 5.5 miles of downhill which eventually cost me my right pinky toenail due to boots that weren’t wide enough. I think I’ve finally made the transition to exclusively using trail runners since I can’t find a pair of boots that don’t kill my feet.

After an utterly exhausting day getting to Gregory Bald, we decided to head up to Andrews Bald, which is accessed at the Clingman’s Dome parking lot. The trail is 3.6 miles RT and leads out to another bald with sweeping views down to Fontana Lake. When we parked the car everything was shrouded in mist and looked like rain, but we made the decision to stay. As we headed down the trail the clouds began to clear and it turned into a glorious day. The forest on this trail is simply stunning, filled with Fraser firs and mossy logs. Even though it’s quite a bit more manicured than some of the other trails in the park, the separation from the crowds was immediate when we entered the woods. A really nice surprise on this bald was the blooming Catawba rhododendrons, which we hadn’t really seen any of on the other trails. There were also some flame azaleas up here and it was decided that we could have just skipped Gregory Bald and enjoyed this spot just as much if not more.

After the Bald we walked up to Clingman’s Dome to take in the views and were able to see where we were yesterday. It’s an incredible feeling to look across a mountain range to a peak you walked up the day before.

On the way down we saw a little bear crossing the road (right place, right time…bears move quickly!), which was the perfect conclusion to a trip spent in the woods, enjoying all the surprises we saw, dealing with the bugs, and taking in the beauty of wildflowers flung far and wide along grassy hills.

Mornings In The Woods: Walking Alone

Today I saw a turkey running full speed up a grassy hill, head waving haphazardly back and forth like he was being chased. It was a hysterical moment in my morning and I found myself laughing loudly between NPR segments. I’m convinced he was just happy it’s spring. As I write this, pink petals are flying past my window and the weeping cherry is dressed in its finest form. The pale pink color reminds me of my wedding dress. The other day I walked in the woods on a trail covered with wildflowers, deep purples of wild delphinium, tiny star flowers, whites, pinks, bluebells, wispy wild geraniums, and so many others I haven’t learned to identify yet. The leaves haven’t sprung from the trees, but nature is showing how ready she is for warmer days.

On the mornings when I can drag myself out of bed in time, I head down to one of my favorite local trails. Two and a half miles of hills that meander through a pretty wood. Sometimes the temp hovers in the 30s, this morning it was 44 degrees, and in the next weeks will perhaps shyly approach a steady mid-fifties. I’ve finally learned the twists and turns of this trail, when there will be a road crossing, when the last gasp-inducing incline is reached and the ground levels out to begin a steady downhill. There is one area of the trail where a pileated woodpecker lives. I hear him often and have even gotten to see him in flight, a shock of red accompanied by black wings and a distinctive white stripe. One morning I startled three deer who hopped away, white tails waving behind them. Nature! There is such peace and at the same time such frenetic activity happening all around. I can’t get enough of it.

One of the first things people ask me when I tell them I hike alone is, “Don’t you ever get scared?” I do get scared when a squirrel jumps into a pile of leaves right next to me, but if what’s being asked is actually, “Aren’t you afraid someone’s going to rape and kill you while you’re alone in the woods?” my answer is no. I’ve never felt threatened in the woods, I’m aware of my surroundings, and everyone I’ve ever run into has been a fellow hiker or trail runner whose main reason for being in the woods has absolutely nothing to do with me. In fact, I often see other women hiking/running by themselves on the mornings I go. I’ve been to a few REI thru-hiking classes taught by women, and it’s always some creepy old dude who looks like he barely made it to the entrance of the store from his car who asks the young 20-something female if she ever felt unsafe in the woods. The answer has always been no because that creepy dude asking the lame question couldn’t handle the trails that badass young woman has hiked.

Are there unfortunate circumstances that happen to hikers in the woods? Yes, of course, and you can go online and find them and truly freak yourself out (yup, I have done this, it’s a stupid thing to do). But in all honesty, my main concerns when I’m hiking involve staying safe around wildlife and not getting lost. Rob and I have seen bears and moose on our hikes, so when in the Smokies, we now carry bear spray for safety even though this may be a totally unnecessary precaution. I also keep a sharp eye out for snakes because we have copperheads and rattlesnakes in TN and that shit scares me more than some middle aged dude in the woods with a pair of trekking poles. Staying on trail is also a big deal to me because there’s this one trail we’ve hiked a couple of times where the blazes are far apart and there’s no worse feeling than being in the middle of trees that all look the same wondering where the heck to go next. Staying safe is a priority for any hiker, but being scared to go out into nature for fear of being attacked is not how I want to live.

There are several podcasts I’ve been listening to lately about the outdoors, but my ultimate favorites are Sounds of the Trail and the Dirtbag Diaries. Sounds starts up again in May and will be following several hikers as they hike the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and the Continental Divide Trail. Last year, this podcast inspired me so much because it was amazing to hear the journey of a woman my age on the AT, but also the hikers she spoke with were on these incredible emotional, mental, and physical rides, and were getting such rich revelations from the whole experience. The Diaries is another awesome podcast that is more about the outdoors in general than specific trails or just hiking. The stories reflect peoples’ experiences with nature, how it’s affected their lives, and the adventures they’ve had.

Also, this is the season when winter gear goes on sale!!! I’ve seen $349 down coats going for 60-75% off retail price, Steep and Cheap is having great sales, and Backcountry Gear recently had a 30% off of Big Agnes sale and I finally got my backpacking tent footprint for $20 less. Basically, never pay full price for anything because you can always find deals online. My only exception to this rule has been purchases from REI, like our backpacks, camping stove, and things we wanted to have time to test out and make sure they were keepers. REI allows you to return gear for up to a year from when it was purchased and if you are a member, you get 10% back on full priced items.

All this to say, it’s exciting to see spring taking hold and it gives me a new hope for the rest of this year. Upcoming adventures include trips to Vermont, the Smoky Mountains, Yosemite, Rocky Mountain National Park, the east end of Long Island, Asheville, NC, and hopefully more that hasn’t yet been booked. I leave you with this lovely John Muir quote:

In every walk with nature one receives far more than he [she] seeks.

GSMNP: Winter Hikes In Misty Mountains

As the weather warms up and I’m starting to sweat on my daily walks, I keep thinking back to a month ago when Rob and I headed to the Smokies again for some more winter hiking. Hiking in the winter has some serious advantages. There are less people, the views are unobscured by leaves on the trees, it’s a less sweaty endeavor, and there is a greater sense of peace because it feels like nature is truly asleep. Due to bad weather in the forecast, we weren’t sure how much we’d actually be able to get into the woods, so the first day there was a mix of sun and clouds with a high of 61 degrees and we headed straight for Chimney Tops.

We brought a pair of trekking poles and some yaktrax for our shoes because I knew there could be ice on the trails at this time of year. Sure enough, we weren’t halfway up that trail before we were encountering a snow covered, slippery mess. We watched one man walk up 6 steps and slide right back down again.

Chimney Tops isn’t rated as a difficult trail due to it’s short length of 3.8 miles RT, but the last mile gains over 900 feet in elevation, so between struggling up icy steps and sloshing through pudding-like mud, we felt like we were going to die by the time we reached the rocks at the top. One guy we met said he’d made fun of people with “hiking sticks” on the way up, but that we could probably set up a lemonade stand by the side of the trail and sell them at a premium. Once again, trekking poles saved the day. The wind was blowing hard, but Rob decided to climb to the summit.

This was the view looking back down from where we climbed up (it’s a lot farther than it looks). At one point, I asked Rob to take a picture of me climbing up these rocks because who doesn’t want to post some picture of themselves climbing up a mountain like a freaking superhero? This was maybe the worst thing I’ve ever asked him to do. It looked like nothing more than a giant ass climbing clumsily up a pile of rocks. So much for trying to look adventurous!

If the wind hadn’t been blowing so strongly, I would have attempted the rest of the climb, but instead I sat there peacefully, holding on to everything in my possession with a death grip so it wouldn’t blow away, while feeling like I’d just landed on top of the world. I can never, ever get enough of this.

The next day held the almost certain threat of rain, so after an early breakfast we packed up, put on our rain shells, and headed up to the Alum Cave trail to see how far we could get. We walked beside a river through a rhododendron covered forest before coming to Arch Rock. We crossed the stream and headed up the steps which curved around the inside of the rock to the trail on the opposite side. The walls of the rock were covered in ice and the water from the river sounded like thunder.

As we climbed in elevation on the trail it became apparent that we were hiking up into a cloud, a literal fluffy cloud, like you see from a plane window and always wonder if it could actually be possible to pull a Mary Poppins and just hang out there for a while. I’ve never been in this kind of fog in the woods. It felt like the trees were holding secrets as we noisily tromped through.

Every time we came to some sort of overlook, we simply had to imagine the view. Everything was obscured by clouds and mist, a true Smoky Mountain experience.

When we got to the cave, we climbed up the sand and stood under the dry overhang, looking out at the trees. Everything was enchanted by fog. Some would say the trip wasn’t worth it, but one thing that always amazes me about that woods is that they change as much as the ocean. Every day there is something new to see and experience, whether it be wildlife, views, waterfalls, mist, rain, or brilliant sunshine. I wouldn’t have traded this day for anything.

We headed back down the trail, making serious use of our trekking poles. Mine kept me from falling several times and I’m pretty sure we both would have been in bad shape without them. We made it back to the car with a good amount of time left in the day, so we took Newfound Gap Road straight across the park to the Oconaluftee Visitor Center which also houses a pioneer museum replete with old buildings, gardens, and an orchard, plus Mingus Mill just down the road. I’m always blown away by the life the early settlers carved out for themselves in the rugged landscape within these mountains.

Every once in a while, a volunteer at a visitor center will give a bit of hiking advice that’s worth taking, so when we were told that the 7 mile round trip hike to Grotto Falls was a sure bet, we decided to head there the next morning. The Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail is closed in the winter, but the Rainbow Falls trailhead is still accessible, so we started there and took the Trillium Gap trail all the way to Grotto Falls. This was really the perfect time of year to do this particular hike because the wooded trail goes right along the motor trail and I don’t think the experience would have been as enjoyable with bumper to bumper cars meandering past the entire time. We didn’t pass a soul on the first 3.5 miles to the falls and we had one of the most popular waterfalls in the entire park to ourselves as rain started to come down.

Grotto Falls is the only waterfall in the park that you can walk behind. In fact, the trail actually goes behind the falls, so if you are getting to Mount LeConte this way, you’ll have to duck beneath Grotto Falls.

As we made our way back to the trailhead it started to rain on us and we hiked through a steady downpour, eventually ending up totally soaked in spite of rain shells and water repellent pants. Thankfully the day was warm and the heat from our exertion kept us from getting cold. As soon as we got back to our room, we changed into warm, dry things and headed right back out to drive through Cades Cove and see it in the mist.

Cades Cove is an 11 mile loop that goes through a preserved pioneer community in the mountains. It’s one of the most popular places in the park to see Black Bears (or so the NPS website says), so every time we’ve gone it’s been a bumper to bumper, ire-inducing affair where you want to kill every gas guzzling SUV driver who goes 5 mph (LITERALLY) through the woods, stopping to view every moving blade of grass and every falling leaf. The area is beautiful, but my blood pressure and stress level cause obscene amounts of swearing and hatred toward my fellow man. This time, however, was a different affair entirely. The optimum time to experience Cades Cove is on a rainy Sunday afternoon in winter. We were able to maintain a steady speed throughout the drive and it was enjoyable and peaceful in every way. We saw lots of turkeys and deer, reveling in the peace of the park at this time of year.

Even though the weather was miserable at points, it didn’t diminish the beauty of the mountains or the fun we had in seeing things in a different light. Gatlinburg was as disgusting as it always is. A grossly high percentage of stores in this little hell hole on the edge of paradise display confederate flag products in their windows: t-shirts, underwear, bikinis, beach towels, purses, you name it, it comes in some form of racist merchandise. In fact, if you like your racism with a pat of butter and a dollop of cream on top, you can even shop at the Paula Deen store in town. If you wonder where all the people voting for Trump go to vacation and play, it’s in Gatlinburg. I have a love/hate relationship with this town. I love the NOC outfitter store and I am really coming to adore Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Gatlinburg is the gateway to that incredible place, so the people who started this town most likely never envisioned it becoming the tourist trap that it is today. Unless we want to stay more than 30 minutes away in a more secluded spot, Gatlinburg is our easy access point to the trails we want to hike. I’m going back at least two more times this year and I absolutely can’t wait to see rhododendrons blooming and try some new hikes.

Until next time when the leaves are on the trees…

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