* * Hiking 3 days on the Appalachian Trail

I returned last evening from 3 days on the Appalachian Trail with my friend Jim Kline in the area around Mount Rogers, Virginia's highest peak.

Me (left) and Jim.

We began our journey at Elk Garden between Virginia's two highest peaks, Mount Rogers and Whitetop Mountain courtesy of a shuttle provided by a man from Marion.  We were hiking the Appalachian Trail northbound, immediately beginning the ascent of Mount Rogers.  The first 4 miles are a steady but gentle uphill grade.  A spur trail leads to the summit.  I had walked to the summit with my wife only a few weeks earlier, so this time Jim and I bypassed it and continued on across the great expanse of open terrain on the massif.  (A massif is a group of connected mountains that form a mountain range.)

This is a guess, but perhaps 95% of the Appalachian Trail in Virginia is through Appalachian hardwood forests.  Another 4% is through farmland and open pasture.  The last 1% is at the top of bald knobs.  Technically, no mountain in Virginia is above the tree-line, the upland elevation that ceases to provide enough of a growing season for any trees.  In fact, the summit of Mount Rogers is surrounded by a Northern spruce and hemlock forest.  However, the shoulders of Mount Rogers are open fields of grasses, heather, and shrubs.  A flock of wild ponies grazes this area and keeps the vegetation in check.

The Appalachian Trail through Virginia has many established shelters which are typically three sided buildings.  The highest elevation shelter in the state is Thomas Knob, situated in a copse of trees near the junction to the summit trail.  We stopped in the bright sunshine to chat with a group of 6 or 7 volunteer trail workers who were doing maintenance on the shelter.  Everyone commented on what a gorgeous day it was and how being on Virginia's highest peak was a great way to spend the day, regardless of whether one was hiking or working.

Jim still carries an old metal-frame pack

I had packed enough food for the three days we were to be out.  I had a new lightweight stove.  And I was sharing a tent with Jim.  So in contrast to the longer hikes of 7 to 9 days that I have done in recent years, my pack felt surprisingly light and manageable.  My trekking poles really helped with my balance, particularly on the rocky and rugged trail over the various false summits of Wilburn Ridge.

We passed the area where the trail intersects with a spur leading to Massey Gap at the Grayson Highlands State Park and shortly thereafter reentered a more typical Appalachian hardwood forest descending to our overnight stay at the Wise Shelter.  We had hiked about 9-1/2 miles for the day.

There were two other backpackers there when we arrived, a young couple from North Carolina and Tennessee who were hiking the entirety of the Appalachian Trail.  They were doing what they called a flip-flop, meaning they started their hike in Pearisburg, Virginia, and walked northward to the terminus at Mount Katahdin in Maine, then caught a shuttle back to Pearisburg and began hiking the southern section southbound.  They had already been on the trail for several months and had at least one more month before they would finish their journey.  They seemed to be in their early 20s and said they had just finished college and were doing the trail before their search for permanent work.  They were really an adorable couple.  After fixing themselves dinner, they set up their tent literally inside the shelter and they lay together for an hour or so reading aloud to one another from a book they were carrying.

It rained lightly most of the night.  I was glad we were in the shelter, warm and dry.

The next day, I packed and was on the trail before Jim. 

The trail descended a bit further and then began ascending again to a second area of open expanse.  The air was thick with fog and mist and reminded me of the moors of Scotland.  For the longest time, I hiked alone through the fields at the top of Virginia, with spitting rain dancing against my hat and only wild horses to accompany me.

When the drizzle stopped, I took an extended break in the woods. 

Jim still didn't arrive and so I continued on alone.  Finally, reaching my last high bald, I stopped for another break where he caught up with me.  By this time, the sky was clearing and extensive views began to open to the west towards ridge after ridge of golden-leaved forests.

We began the descent of the massif and crossed SR-603 and began climbing Hurricane Mountain.  Although it was getting late in the day, Jim and I reached a good pace and climbed the mountain briskly and without any difficulty.  Only a short way down the other side, we pitched our tent near a tiny rivulet of a stream.  We had walked about 11 miles.

Clumps of fungus on a tree

Yesterday's walk was entirely within hardwood forests.  The sun was bright, shining through the canopy above.  Leaves, mostly yellow, fell steadily from the trees almost like snow.  Jim and I abound along the trail happily, not really wanting it to end.  We reached the car after having walked about 6 miles, mostly either downhill or level.  This was a thoroughly pleasant and delightful trip that had us talking about how we might duplicate it again sometime soon.

Me, nearing the end

As I write this account, my calves are as tight as guitar strings, but I’m happy to have experienced this gorgeous walk in the Virginia Mountains.