Cold Oats and Coyotes on Thanksgiving: Days 5-6 on the MST

Listening to the pounding of heavy rain for the past 24 hours made me thankful I took the day off from hiking, although it left me feeling a bit guilty. After all, I was out here to prepare for a thru-hike and all the random misfortune that inevitably happens on trail. Come summertime on the CDT, I won’t be able to skip rainy days like yesterday, but the dry socks on my feet made me happy that I did.

Like smoke from a chimney, the low-lying clouds rose from the valley as I began the second half of my shakedown hike on the MST. The trail followed the eastern rim of the Linville Gorge before dropping into mature forests with big trees, clear streams, and tons of waterfalls. With three more days of food, a new water filter, and a beautiful weather forecast, I set out to finish the remaining 50ish miles.

 

Clear Creeks and Tall Trees: Day 5

As the trail approached Steels Creek, I passed more five-star campsites with tall trees and flat, dry ground. A fire ring sat in the middle of a circle of tree stumps. It was too early in the day to stop and set up camp, so I promised myself I’d be back to enjoy the pristine backcountry campsite. I stopped for a drink before passing the next stream. For the first time my whole trip, I enjoyed the fresh mountain water without having to fight a clogged filter to drink it.

The sky turned blue as the sun continued to rise and the trail passed by waterfall after waterfall. Judging by the car-sized potholes and dramatic sculpting of the bedrock, Steels Creek has been cutting away at this valley for a long, long time. I contemplated how the Appalachian Mountains used to stand as tall as the Himalayas, and how Mount Mitchell could have been the modern-day Mount Everest. Did Steels Creek used to look like one of the bright blue-turquoise rivers pouring of out the mouth of a glacier? The wind rustled through rhododendron leaves and swayed the towering trees as I pondered these thoughts and more.

A Worthy Detour

Single track turned to service road as the trail steadily climbed through the headwaters of Steels Creek. A chainsaw crew was busy clearing deadfall but paused their work to let me pass by. I crossed highway 181 and downed a handful of snacks. Next up, the MST dropped into Harpers Creek Wilderness which I’d never hiked in but had seen on the map plenty of times. From trip reports and pictures, I knew this area was similar to Steels Creek with the mature forests and abundance of ancient water ways. Wasting no time, I started hiking again with an eagerness to explore in every footstep.

Miles flew by on perfect trail and under breezy blue skies. The MST intersected a short spur trail leading to an overlook, and since I was making great time, I checked it out. From a rocky outcrop was an amazing view of South Harper Creek Falls. Puffy clouds rolled over the mountains while the crashing of water echoed up from the falls. North Carolina never fails to inspire with its unexpected beauty. Looking over the map, I chose my campsite for the night along Harper Creek and finished my lunch of jerky and pistachios.

To campfire or not to campfire?

The last few crossings of Harpers Creek tested my rock hopping skills. I should’ve just taken my shoes off, but it wasn’t until I slipped into the creek that I finally did. Since I was close to camp, I walked barefoot the rest of the way and found a site underneath tall hardwoods with plenty of flat ground and a fire ring. I setup my tent and gathered wood for a fire to dry my shoes and socks.

Damp wood made it hard to keep a flame going, so I ditched that idea and tried cooking dinner. After a few minutes of screwing around (literally) with my stove and fuel cans, I found the threads on my stove to be buggered up and unusable… Not a showstopper, but a big bummer. I’d made it to camp early and imagined sitting by the creek, relaxing and enjoying the free time while the sun set. Instead, I nursed a smoky fire with wet kindling and slowly boiled some water as the day faded.

Today was a reminder of no matter how good things are going on the trail, headaches are waiting around every corner. Being patient and resourceful is just as important as being fit and able.

Cold Oats and Coyotes: Day 6

I woke up to a howl from a single coyote, which slowly turned into a concert of yaps from a small pack. The clarity of their calls made them sound close, perhaps in the same drainage as my campsite. It was barely dawn, but my nerve endings decided there was no going back to sleep, so I started packing up camp. Since my stove was broken, my morning oats when down cold, but I did take advantage of the fire last night and cooked all three of my dehydrated meals.  I carefully placed them in my pack, hoping chicken alfredo and pasta primavera wouldn’t explode onto all my belongings. By first light I was already moving down the trail and redeemed myself on a few crossings of Harpers Creek.

Today was Thanksgiving, and at some point the MST would cross back over the Blue Ridge Parkway. Thinking about the noise of cars made me appreciate listening to the creek, the rustling leaves, and all the quiet in between. I spent the morning being thankful for the fresh air, clean water, and wild places I’d been exploring the past week.

Exit Left onto the Parkway

When I ran into the first group of holiday hikers, they paid me obvious looks of question and concern. Most folks scratched their heads, seemingly wondering why anyone would be backpacking at this time of year. However, this one grandfather stopped me mid stride. He started rapid firing questions to me about my trip, which I happily answered.

The man and his family swapped stories with me about camping and hiking in the mountains of North Carolina. We laughter and smiled in the afternoon sunshine. When I mentioned my stove was broken, they quickly offered to bring me a hot meal from town, along with water and anything else I needed. Explaining that I was nearly done my trip, I told them I was just fine, although I sincerely appreciated the offer. They were complete strangers and gave me nothing more than kindness, but I walked away with a wide smile and a glowing feeling that seemed fitting for Thanksgiving.

The Last Climb

Unlike all the previous nights, I wouldn’t be camping on the MST tonight. I was aiming for a backcountry site beneath the summit of Grandfather Mountain and hoped to reach it before the sun set. Chatting with the family and stopping for pictures put me behind on time, but since it was my final night on trail, I made sure not to rush. I started the last climb and reached an overlook halfway up. Before I considered myself a hiker or backpacker, this was one of the first spots my mom and I went hiking, over four years ago. Nostalgia accompanied my disbelief for the time which had passed since then.

I continued hiking upward, noticing the dense spruce trees replacing the lower elevation forests. The last rays of sun flickered through the pine needles and reminded me I still had a chance of catching the sunset. Once I made it the top, I layered up and rolled out my foam pad, enjoying the sunset as it faded into a windy but starry night. Above all my other feelings of gratitude and accomplishment, I felt sad this was my last night on the trail. After six days, I was just getting into the groove of this new routine of hiking every day. Thankfully I still had tomorrow.