Dates ........ Friday Sept 14, 2001
Miles ........ 12.6 miles, Climb 3134'
From ........ Little Laurel Shelter
To ............. Flint Mt. Shelter
Weather ... Humid, cloudy, calm 55 degF

Friday September 14, 2001

Camp Creek Bald (4844'), Blackstack Cliffs (4490'), Big Rocks (4838'), Sheldon Civil War Graves, Acorns falling like rain.

Last night the acorns and chestnuts were falling like rain at times. They'd go Tsh Tsh Thwack, Tsh as they fell down through branches and leaves, finally hitting the ground with a thunk or the shelter roof with a metallic Bang. When two or more fell at the same time, it was very much like a percussion jazz band practicing I was used to the noise now and found it beautifully natural and more pleasant than disconcerting.

I got a late start, hitting the trail about 9:30 with a steep climb from the shelter up to the 4844 foot summit of Camp Creek Bald. It was awfully humid today and I could not stop sweating and fogging up my glasses, no matter how I tried. The only way I could them from fogging was to stop hiking and take them off. I really prefer cooler weather for hiking - even if it's wet. Compounding matters, my feet hurt and my left foot seemed numb after yesterday's hike, and remained so this morning, so I tried hiking in my sneakers today. The trail was rocky and rugged in some places and I missed the support of my hiking boots even though they were uncomfortable. Enough whining. Every time I reached a summit it was in the clouds, robbing me of my rewarding view. Even if the high points were not in the clouds, the air was so heavy with haze that visibility was limited to less than a mile. There was no winning today but I did catch some interesting mist/sun photos anyway. Silver linings in the clouds.

Trees and mist along the Appalachian Trail

On my way across the Camp Creek Bald's jagged ridgeline, a series of short but steep ups and downs, I met Dirty Boots, a hiker from the UK. We chatted for a while and I gave him the special newspaper section I had been reading so he could get caught up on the events of September 11. He had heard bits and pieces but had not had an opportunity to see or hear any real news reports. He was thrilled with America's Appalachian Trail. He loved long distance backpacking and there was nothing comparable in Europe. The Alps, though formidable, challenging and beautiful, did not offer anything like our AT - over 2,160 miles of wooded, scenic, mostly remote continuous hiking path. He loved it when the trail went near or through a town so he could meet non-hiking Americans and see how they lived. From his hike and experiences, he came to love America. I too love America and the AT and feel so fortunate to live here and be able to hike this American Gem!

I had some good luck and bad. Shortly after meeting and talking with Dirty Boots, I stopped for water and noticed my tent was missing from my pack. It had a way of working itself out of the two straps that held it in place; it had fallen off several times previously on other hikes so I ran its drawstring through the pack straps as an extra precaution against its falling without my noticing it. Evidently, it fell off anyway and I didn't notice it. I decided to drop my pack and backtrack until I found it. I had to walk a little over a mile to where I found it lying in the middle of the trail. That cost me 45 minutes of hiking time and added over 2 miles to my day's hike. But my tent was essential (and expensive). I made sure it was secured to my pack.

At the Jerry Cabin Shelter I met two interesting gals out for a section hike. They too wished for drier or cooler weather. But, on the AT for any extended period, the challenges of elevation and weather have one thing in common: the hiker must take what comes along, for better or worse. From Jerry Cabin shelter I started the climb to the 4838 foot high summit of Big Rocks. It was a bit cooler now, at the higher elevation, but still humid, especially as the clouds blew by. Being in the clouds, watching them come and go, experiencing the moments of clear sky and good visibility interrupted by moments of being enshrouded in a cloud is an experience unique to high altitude mountains and uniquely available to a hiker on the Appalachian Trail. Sometimes the conditions are just right and a lucky hiker can experience the awesome beauty of being above the clouds, looking out over a clear panorama of white cotton-like clouds with perhaps a few mountain peaks rising above the puffy whiteness. That is as near heaven as any mere mortal can come. I thrilled at a similar experience in the White Mountains of New Hampshire: Heaven on earth. (See Sept 13, 2000). That is one reason why I put up with the challenges and unpleasantries sometimes facing a long distance hiker. The rewards, though intangible, are fantastic and unforgettable.

Two photographs I took today, only a moment apart and of the same mountaintop meadow and trees, illustrate the rapid change of visibility and vista as clouds blow across the mountain trail. Note how the trees in center are obscured as the cloud blows by. While it is a very beautiful thing to experience, it is difficult to capture on film and even more difficult to adequately describe with words.

Two photos only seconds apart and from the same place illustrate the effect of clouds blowing across the trail.

Somewhere on this jagged, extended ridgeline I came across a sign I could not resist posing with: It read BIG BUTT - ELEV 4750. Shortly after, I reached the two Civil War era tombstones located near the trail, the Sheldon Graves. From there it was steeply downhill, dropping 1000 feet in less than a mile, then climbing steeply 400 feet out of Flint Gap to the Flint Mountain Shelter, where I stopped for the night. I had the whole shelter to myself. I got water at the nearby stream crossing, ate supper and went to bed. A smoky fire failed to discourage the mosquitoes and I had to resort to sleeping inside my tent's bug screen. Except for the zillions of bugs, I was alone at the shelter again.

 

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