Wagon Train Trail

This weekend, I went with the Trail Dames to see the leaves changing at Brasstown Bald, the tallest peak in Georgia (4784 feet).  We hiked the Wagon Train Trail, which follows a ridge north from Brasstown Bald all the way to Young Harris, a college town.  This hike is all about the journey, rather than the destination– especially the views along the ridge and watching the trees change as we drop elevation and go through different forest types.

Down the Wagon Train Trail.

Eleven Dames met at the large parking area early in the morning.  We had a wonderful mix of women- it was one woman’s second hike ever, while others had been hiking for years.  We started down the wide, relatively flat path, and reached a viewpoint after an hour.  We stopped for a break and marveled how far we’d come.  The tower at Brasstown Bald, near where we began our hike, looked so small in the distance and it was hard to imagine we’d so easily traveled all this way already.

The tower on Brasstown Bald appears tiny.

After a very long and hot summer, the crisp fall air was quite a relief.  The leaves were spectacular red, orange, and yellow, contrasting against deep blue sky.  As the sun shone through the red leaves, it gave everything a rosy hue.  Leaves crunched beneath our feet.  Though most of the time we were walking through forest ablaze with red leaves, we passed through one part of the trail was all golden yellow.

The Dames that went with me on the Blood Mountain hike recognized the turtleheads clustered around small springs.  We also saw quite a few striped gentians.

Turtlehead

After getting back to the trailhead, some of the Dames still had enough energy to climb the remaining 6/10 mile up to the observation tower and visitor’s center at the summit.  Stepping off the Wagon Train trail, where we’d seen very few other hikers, was quite a culture shock, because the summit area was crowded with tourists.   At first, I felt annoyed that this summit had been “ruined” by all the development.  But then, we met a woman in a wheelchair that was 95 years old!  She had visited this mountain many years ago, and was excited to make this return trip, even though she couldn’t walk anymore herself and had to take the shuttle bus to the top.  Of course this made me instantly appreciate that this mountain was accessible to everyone, and I smiled looking around at all the different people, up there, enjoying the fall day.

Same Trail, A Year and a Half Later

Same trail, a year and a half later

Milkweed along the AT (May 2009)
Another wonderful guest post from our wonderful hike leader, Hemlock.  For more of her writing, check out her blog athttp://ramblinghemlock.blogspot.com/
This weekend, I went on an overnight backpacking trip from Hogpen to Unicoi on the Appalachian Trail.  A year and a half ago, in May of 2009, I backpacked this section as a new Trail Dame and a beginner backpacker.  I recall struggling up the hills.  Thankfully it was spring and there were plenty of flowers in bloom to examine while I caught my breath.   I remember asking our trip leader a million questions about her gear, taking notes on everything she said.  She was one of the first people I’d met that was a solo hiker (how brave!) and had hiked long distances on the AT (how cool!).

Now, I scouted the trip as a trip co-leader, in preparation for taking a group out there next week.  Walking this same path, it struck me how much has changed– not just the change of season with the wildflowers all gone to seed– but how now the hills seem like a breeze, and I’m the one answering questions from the first-time backpackers as they email me about what to expect on this trip.  I sometimes feel like a fraud– I’m still learning myself– until I realize that I can help since I remember vividly what it was like to be a beginner myself.

Milkweed pod and seeds in fall
What hasn’t change is how much I plan for the hike (and, I’ll admit, how I still get butterflies the night before a big trip).  But now, I try to figure out how to provide directions and explain the features of the trail and think through what to do in case of emergency.  I wonder how I can be as welcoming, respectful, and supportive to them as everyone was to me a year and a half ago.

As I walked along, I thought about what makes the Trail Dames a unique group.  Like I said before, I’ve hiked with dozens of other hiking clubs, so I know there’s something special about the Dames.  Is it the caring nature of the group that brings everyone together?  How does this happen?  How can such a diverse group of women get along?  How can we laugh so much?  When I hike with the Dames, I try to keep my ears open to catch incredible conversations– inspirational stories of challenges faced with courage.  And there is something about being outdoors that allows the conversations to just flow.   I take in this wisdom, and make mental notes about how I want to live my life.

I watch the way everyone looks out for one another- not condescending at all– and how folks are understanding if someone is having trouble, because everyone else has struggled at one time or another, so we all know what it’s like.  (One Dame describes it this way– “There’s No Shame With the Trail Dames!”)  I really appreciate this because I’ve hiked with other groups that are competitive, and I’ve noticed that this attitude prevents people from coming together as a team, and connecting with one another.   I see these things, but all of these parts don’t fully explain to me the incredible things that happen on the trail with the Dames.

More of Karen’s Waterfall Adventures!!

More of Karen’s Waterfall adventures!!!

IMG_3994
The waterfall project continues.  This weekend I finally “captured” a
waterfall I’ve been trying to find for weeks.  It’s on the ‘net, but never
with any directions.  I found clues here and there and finally put them
altogether and got to the right place and found it!

Then today my sister and I went up to Cloudland Canyon State Park.  I had
wanted to get there several weeks ago, but when I called them they said the
falls were dry.  So after all the rain we’ve had lately, I called yesterday
and they said the falls had lots of water…so we went!

We only did the waterfall trail, which is probably less than 2 miles total
out and back, but it’s tough.  In fact it’s a lot like doing Tallulah
Gorge…lots of steps right down the side of the canyon and then side trails
to the falls.  The first 2 are the “show pieces” of the park.  They are each
fall over a sheer cliff into a small pool, but then below them are lots of
smaller falls with 2 forming together a falls of may 5 or 6 feet, then
there’s a bridge over the creek that takes you to another trail, and the
bridge is right over the top of another falls – maybe 10 or 12 feet high.
Then there’s ANOTHER one a little further down that’s may 6 feet high.  And
finally, back at the top of the gorge, there’s a viewpoint where you can see
a long, cascading waterfall coming over the side of the gorge.  Altogether
that’s 6 falls.  There may actually be more along that trail at the bottom
of the gorge, but we just didn’t have time to go any further.

The trail down has, I think, 600 steps – so that 600 down and then 600 back
up.  But even going as slowly as I usually go, we did the whole thing – all
of the falls, in just over 2 hours.  Not bad!

So I’ve been working on putting together a slide show of my pictures and I’m
pleased to be able to say that I’ve done 98 waterfalls this year!  That’s
counting “double” falls as 2 falls – which, of course, they really are
anyway.  I didn’t set out to get to see so many in just my first year of
hunting waterfalls, so I was quite surprised that it came out to so many!

Karen T.
http://bellsouthpwp.net/d/d/ddoggone/Homepage/Homepage.htm

Backpacking With The Dames

This is a cross post from Hemlock’s wonderful Blog….. for more of her writing, check outhttp://ramblinghemlock.blogspot.com/

Same trail, a week later

Winter wonderland.  Photo by S. Adams.

The story this week was how a group of Nine Warrior Women braved 14 miles of slippery trail as we hiked on the Appalachian Trail from Hogpen to Unicoi.  We faced a night of bone-chilling, finger-numbing, frigid temperatures (18 degrees!), and I will never forget how the Brave Dames on this trip came together as a team and had a total blast.

It’s hard to comprehend how the same trail that I scouted just one week ago could be so completely different than it was this weekend, magically transformed as it was by a layer of snow and ice.  At first, I was nervous because I’d never backpacked in the snow before, though I’d done plenty of hiking in worse conditions.  But my fears drifted away as we gazed in amazement at the trees cloaked in snow, breathing in the crisp air, listening to the crunch of frozen leaves underfoot.  Eventually, the sun broke through the fog and clouds, making the forest sparkle and ice shimmer against the deep blue sky.  I felt grateful to be out enjoying my first winter weather of the year, while nearly everyone else in Georgia was down in the valley having a regular fall day.

When we stopped at the Low Gap shelter for lunch, we listened to a group of young guys describe their miserable night in the snow.  I hoped that we wouldn’t look as wrenched as they did the following day.

We hiked on and the trail joined an old road.  Icicles were forming along the rocky outcrops.  As we descended in elevation, pockets of snow became more scarce.  Finally, we reached our campsite which was thankfully free of much snow, due to its sunny exposure.  Everyone pitched in to help with making camp, helping set up tents, gather firewood, and hang the rope to keep our food away from bears.  Still Waters had a fire blazing before the rest of us returned from fetching water.  We huddled around, telling stories and laughing, recalling the high and low points of the day.

                   Draped in my under-quilt, huddled around the campfire.  Photo by S. Adams.

We turned in for the night at 7:45, since we were all getting cold as the air temperature plumited.  At first I lay shivering in my hammock, wondering if I would freeze to death during the night.  Finally, I slipped my pack beneath my feet, and shifted the sleeping pad and underquilt around.   Miraculously, I warmed up enough to finally drift off to sleep.  Whenever I woke during the night, I heard a chorus of soft snores around me.  How could everyone else be sleeping so well?!  In the morning, we’d all discover that EVERYONE had this thought during the night– we must have all taken turns lying awake shivering and sleeping and snoring.

The trail the next day had some serious climbs, and was treacherous with icy leaves over slippery rocks.  We only took brief rest stops because we got too cold when we weren’t moving.  Last week, I’d sailed up these hills, but this time, they left me sore and tired just like they had on my first backpacking trip with the Dames a year and a half ago.   Funny how just when I think I’ve got everything figured out and am feeling strong and confident (as I was last week), the trail will continue to provide new challenges.

Things I learned:

– Who you’re with can make all the difference.  I am so grateful to all the Dames who continue to teach me the meaning of friendship, strength, perseverance, and bravery.

– I need to figure out how to keep my hands from freezing.  I’ve always struggled keeping my hands warm, and I loose all dexterity when my hands get cold and also I have a lot of trouble thinking coherently when I loose feeling in my fingers.  I’ve tried various gloves and handwarmers, which work OK during hiking, but my fingers freeze when I take off my gloves to do stuff around camp.  Maybe I need to develop a cold weather camp routine that doesn’t require the use of my fingers or thumbs.  Any suggestions on how to cook and get water without either getting my gloves drenched or having my fingers go numb?

– One of the first signs of hypothermia is mental confusion.  Next time we are standing around discussing how we are all having sluggish thoughts, take that as a sign to warm up!  Also, Still Waters kept telling me to take off my wet gloves and put my hands near the fire to thaw out, and I just stared at her blankly.  This was sort of like the tendency hypothermic people have to take off their warm clothes when they are freezing to death.

– My camera is NOT an item I should leave behind just to save pack weight.  What was I thinking!?!?

– Even at the lowest point of the trip when I was nearly in tears because I was so freezing cold, I still wanted to be on the trail more than anything else– I don’t want to be at home.  Even when I’m scared and uncomfortable, I still feel like I belong on the trail.

Falling

Falling

This is a cross post from Hemlock’s wonderful Blog….. for more of her writing, check outhttp://ramblinghemlock.blogspot.com/
Well, that’s the last time I’m gonna leave my rain pants in the car in the winter!  Because this weekend, I discovered another reason to carry my rain pants…

At a large stream crossing only twenty minutes into the hike, my hiking partner, Still Waters, cautioned me to be careful since she’d fallen at this tricky crossing before.  Ignoring her, I confidently bounded across on a wet log.   After spending weeks exercising with myheavy backpack, I’d been feeling quite nimble under it’s full weight and I totally forget I had it on.  To my surprise, in the middle of the stream, my foot slid off and I couldn’t regain my balance under the weight of my pack.  I ended up waist deep in water, my arms submerged up to my elbows.  Never having fallen before, I was shocked how easy it was with the pack on to topple over once I was off balance.  I was drenched but thankfully uninjured, and felt really lucky that I fell on soft sandy stream bottom.

It was way too cold to continue drenched as I was up to my waist.  I thought about just leaving on my soaked pants and moving fast to stay warm, but I had already been chilly before the fall, and I started shivering.  I stripped off my wet clothes and wrapped my poncho around me.  Thankfully, Still Waters went back to the car to retrieve my rain pants so I’d have something to wear.  I hiked the rest of the day in my rain pants while my pants dried on top of my pack.

Lessons learned this weekend:

1. Rain pants work great as a spare pair of pants and will keep me toasty warm.   In warmer weather, I could have gotten away with only wearing the poncho (or a stylish, black plastic trash bag) and hiking with bare legs, but in the winter it’s too cold (even in Georgia!), to not have coverings for my lower half.

2. I am not immune to gravity.  Sure I may feel strong and light on my feet with my pack on, but I need to be more cautious and realize that I can fall just like anyone else.