* * Surviving the ascent of Mt. Rogers

Every few years, I make a point to climb Mt. Rogers, Virginia’s highest peak on the border of Grayson and Smyth Counties.  Jane accompanied me on this trip on Saturday. 

Jane and I reached the trailhead at Elk Garden between Rogers and nearby Whitetop Mountain at 10:00 a.m. and donned our hiking boots.  At our current ages, me in my mid-fifties and Jane plus five, we now use trekking poles on our hikes to help with balance and agility.  We crossed highway SR-600 and began ascending through a grassy field with grand views in the warming sunshine towards the end of a record-breaking hot summer.

We entered the woods and the sky clouded, blissfully moderating the heat.  We spoke with a group of 6 hikers, 3 men and 3 boys, outfitted for an overnight stay.  This was the first backpacking experience for the boys and it reminded me of my first ascent when I was a mere pup, walking with my dad. 

At our lunch stop, Jane was laboring hard, but still game to continue.  We sat on flat rocks in another grassy field, overlooking the sublime scene before us.  The air has an intense, dramatic quality at higher elevations, where land and sky merge. 

We continued onward, on the mostly level trail, me moving 40% faster than she.  She had recently been forced to give up bicycling, as her balance has faltered in recent years.  Would she be okay navigating the rough and rocky trail?  How many more times would she be able to ascend this mountain?

From my prior trips, I knew there were no views from the summit.  Instead, there is a northern forest of spruce, fern, and hemlock.  The transition from open field to northern forest is abrupt, like Shoeless Joe Jackson leaving an Iowa Field of Dreams disappearing into the cornstalks in center field.  The northern forest is a magical place, dark with overhanging evergreens and thick with mosses and ferns.  It smells good, like what an air freshener should smell like. 

We ate a celebratory candy bar and some orange slices near the US Geological Survey marker imbedded in a table-sized rock that marks the summit and then retraced our steps downhill. 

Jane was visibly struggling, complaining about sore feet, hips, and knees.  My feet were sore as well and my neck was stiff.  I walked ahead a mile and then waited for her to catch up.

Jane successfully completed the hike, saying only the next day, “I survived.”