We went to bed so early last night that I found myself wide awake at 3 am. The wind picked up and the noise must have awakened me. I lost my earplugs in my bedding last night; I frequently pull them out in my sleep and then have to hunt for them later. I burrow into my downy warmness to read for a while, then fall back asleep. Anticipating single-digit temps at night, I brought down pants in addition to my Feathered Friends down booties and a down coat, and I am happy to report that this should be sufficient to keep my warm during this section. I woke up just in time to watch the sun peek over the ridge and through the trees. GG is up already as evident by the glow from her headlamp illuminating the inside of her tent.
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| Camping behind Saunders Shelter |
We pack up slowly, not feeling the desire to hike in the pre-dawn darkness, and I jump in place to warm up a couple times while we pack the last of our belongings. We chat with 38 for a few minutes until he takes off up the trail, another hiker we will not see again. The northwesterly wind is cold, and I wait until the last minute to change out of my down booties into my cold hiking shoes before we leave the shelter and continue our trek.
The wind is in our faces as we hike along the ridge, and I pull my buff up over my cold nose and cheeks. We are talking about a contingency plan for the weekend, as the current forecast is calling for a storm to move in. The winds will increase to 60 mph on Mount Rogers, and the single digit windchill at night is expected to get as low as -20F, which can be deadly. The lowest I have camped is -5F, and GG has yet to camp out below 25F.
A backpacking friend once told me that my trail name should be "Plan B," because on almost every trip we experienced together, something would happen, and we would have to come up with a Plan B. I can give several examples where things happened in the middle of a group backcountry adventure and we had to alter our trip, but I will save it for another post. So far, I have had to accommodate hikers with hypothermia, debilitating blisters, and gear failure such as a leaky tent or inappropriate sleeping gear.
Needless to say, I feel fairly confident in planning for exigent circumstances, and I take this weather change very seriously. We should be okay tonight, but once we crest Whitetop Mountain, we will be extremely exposed on the highest ridge in the state and shelter options are limited. I try calling Cole, the shuttle driver in Troutdale. He doesn't have a cell phone, so I can't text him, but I leave a message on his landline. He is great about getting back in touch quickly, but my cell phone service is terrible this far from town, and he probably won't be able to call me back. So, I do the next logical thing and call my mom.
Mom answers, and I explain the situation. I give her Cole's number and work out a plan for her to call him and see if we can get a ride off the mountain tomorrow afternoon just around the same time we will be at the next road crossing, which is also when the weather is supposed to get really gnarly. I have a Delorme InReach, so I can communicate with her via satellite. I then call the Grayson Highlands General Store & Inn, which is the closest lodging to our location. I make arrangements for a room for tomorrow night, and at the same time get I get a text notification from mom saying Cole will meet us tomorrow as requested, which is fortuitous since minutes later we lose cell phone service for the remainder of the day as we descend from the current ridge.
We see only one other person on the trail all day: a day hiker near Beartree Gap, which we passed over an hour ago. This area is so heavily trafficked during the early summer, when I usually visit, that the woods are eerily quiet. Of course, who else wants to hike in these woods within an incoming storm than some Appalachian Trail hikers?!
Today we hike for some time on the Virginia Creeper towpath, crossing bridges and enjoying the easy grade to leave the trail to hike up and over a ridge until we leave the nice path altogether.
The day has been overcast and dreary since we left Saunders Shelter. We are ready for rain, wearing our rain jackets as a wind layer. About one mile from the shelter a light mist starts to fall. We pick up our speed so we can avoid getting wet, which would be a pity when we are so close to a roof over our heads. We can manage in cold weather, but getting wet adds another layer of suffering to the experience.
Lost Mountain Shelter is lovely, as far as a three-sided and uninsulated refuge in the woods go. The empty shelter is tidy; the exterior is relatively graffiti free and the floor clean of debris and leaf litter. We each claim opposite ends of the hut, where low and narrow knee walls on either end create a barrier to the wind, which gusts occasionally into the front of the shelter. I gather water from the nearby spring and just return when the rain starts in earnest.
We change into our sleeping clothes and down and appreciate the protection from the tempest while we eat our dinners. We splurge and eat all our treats since we will be able to resupply tomorrow. I am enjoying peanut M&Ms and a hot chocolate when the storm really lets loose around 5 pm, and the wind is blowing the huge trees so hard I worry they could fall over.
GG announces she is going to bed at 5:30 pm, so I watch a series about an expedition to Mt. Everest I previously downloaded on my phone. Nothing takes your mind off of terrible weather than watching people suffer in more extreme conditions, and it works. By 6:30 pm I am feeling sleepy and full dark has descended and I tuck into my bed.
Today's Stats: 6.6 miles, 1385 feet gain
Trail Stats: 487 miles, 115K elevation gain
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