We are up before dawn. Last night the time sprang forward for Daylight Savings Time, so we lost an hour, but we went to bed so early that we both had plenty of sleep. We check the weather, and just as predicted, the weather up on Mount Rogers is a balmy -15F with the windchill. It will be around -10F when we set off in an hour or so, but at least it will be sunny and warmer later today, getting up to 40F this afternoon as the high-pressure system starts to move through. I privately give thanks to the inventor of hand and toe warmers, of which we both are carrying large amounts.
We load our packs into the truck, grab large cups of fresh hot coffee from the store, and settle our bill with Paula. This place is a wonderful respite from the trail, and I thank Paula profusely for her hospitality and promise to leave a positive online review.
We drive back to Cole's place, where we park the truck, and we pile in for the return trip to Elk Garden, our winter gloves, hats, and hand warmers at the ready. We admire the wintry landscape on the drive up. The light dusting of ice and snow makes the trees and grass sparkle in the dim morning light, and the landscape becomes more arctic looking as we gain elevation. I also admire how confidently people in the mountains drive on twisting roads, while I hold onto the door handle to prevent being jostled by the pitch. We arrive at the parking lot and say our goodbyes as we pay him for the trip. The next time we see him will be when we hike into Troutdale after we complete the highlands.
Getting out of the car we are hit by icy blasts of wind and I run behind the small building housing a pit toilet to get out of the gale while I put on my winter mittens and hat before hoisting my pack. I am wearing a ridiculous looking but extremely warm bright orange rabbit fur-lined bomber hat that fastens under my chin. This hat accompanies me on any trip under 30 degrees. Absurd as it may look, this thing is amazing in this kind of weather.
GG is already moving up the trail from the parking lot when I step out from behind the shelter, and I hurry not only to catch up, but to stay warm. We fumble with the livestock gate that keeps the resident cows and ponies off the road. The temperature is 21F with 30 mph sustained winds and gusts that make us sidestep as we hike up the hill toward Mount Rogers. The wind is directly in our faces as we hike up a grassy bald devoid of trees to block the wind. The windchill is 2F, and with the gusts, drops below 0.
We wear our buffs over our lower face, but within minutes my face is numb from the cold, the wind biting at the exposed skin between buff and hat. My face is already chapped from the wind and rain coming up Whitetop, and I smeared Aquaphor on my cheeks and nose earlier, hoping to prevent additional windburn.
We make it to some brush on the edge of the woods after 30 minutes, but it feels like it took much longer. The scraggly buckthorn helps a little to block the wind, but not really enough to matter. I can tell GG is really struggling with the cold. I tell her we need to be honest with each other, and if our hands or feet get cold or we start getting concerned about our welfare we need to stop and deploy the tarp, where we can shelter in place from the wind in our down until it warms up. She states she doesn't need to do that and wants to keep going. I admonish her that this isn't just hypothermia inducing cold, but we are entering frostbite territory.
Thankfully we get to a trail junction and stop to heed the call of nature and decide we are both doing well enough to continue on our hike. The wind has abated a fair amount in the trees, but we still keep our heads down and follow the path underfoot. I look up briefly and spy a blue blaze on a tree. Oh man, we are off the trail! When did this happen? I turn on GPS and with relief see we are only a couple hundred yards off course.
We backtrack and see the AT turned right while this trail continued straightforward off the AT, an easy enough mistake. Back on the right trail, with white blazes guiding us, we continue to climb upward.
Shortly after, we encounter three young men heading the opposite direction. As they pull up in front of us, we exchange hellos, and I ask if they camped out last night. They reply in the affirmative and explain they are from Vermont on spring break. They came here thinking it would be significantly warmer this far south! They stayed in the shelter near the summit, and one of them forgot his sleeping pad in the car and didn't discover the mistake until they reached the shelter late last night. Happily, he survived the night with his digits intact.
The sun is rising, slowly warming the air but the wind remains blustery cold. We walk gingerly and focus on the ground, because ice is abundant. The beautiful crystals of ice rime pokes up out of the ground. The views are outstanding as we stop to admire the landscape from the highest mountain since Roan in North Carolina. The surrounding mountain ridges stand in stark relief against the crisp blue sky.
We stop at the Thomas Knob Shelter and eat lunch, talking to several other hikers seeking a brief shelter from the wind, then head north where we cross the 500-mile mark! Actually, we don't realize we crossed it until we stopped for a pit stop and looked at the map. We high five and take in the gorgeous views, looking out for the famous pony herds while we dodge piles of horse dung. The ponies normally roam the highlands, but they are obviously smarter than we are for not being at 5,000 feet of elevation in this weather.
The next four miles is mostly open balds interspersed with stands of stubby spruce trees. The sun warms the ground of the balds and melts the ice into deep and wide muddy puddles, which we have to step around to avoid the ankle-deep muck. We also must tread carefully around the trees, where the mud gives way to treacherous patches of ice. I get complacent and take a fall, landing painfully on my right hip. Ouch! We wind around huge rocks where I take two more falls, landing on the same place. I need to be more careful. We are already walking incredibly slow because of the conditions.
We are alert for ponies as we enter Grayson Highlands State Park near Massie Gap, where they are routinely found. Unfortunately, not a pony in sight, although we see a lot of fresh manure. We do pass a lot of day hikers and many backpackers who look woefully underprepared for the temperature. We find a coat on the ground, which probably fell off of someone's backpack. We have no idea which direction the hiker was traveling when they dropped the coat, so we hang it from a blueberry bush next to the trail. Hopefully it was a day hiker that will be able to pick it up on their return. Yet another reason not to hang stuff from your pack!
We arrive at Wise Shelter at 4 pm, absolutely spent from the cold. It took 8 hours to hike 9 miles because of the hazardous trail conditions. We both plan on sleeping in the shelter tonight, since the temperatures will dip to 25F, and the winds are still brisk.
Two spring breakers are already set up in the shelter, and we talk while we set up our sleeping spaces and make dinner. One of them said they dropped their coat, but uncertain where. GG and I look at each other with chagrin, as we explain that it's on the other side of Massie Gap, hanging on a blueberry bush.
I heat water on my small gas canister stove to pour into a Nalgene so I will have a nice hot water bottle to warm my bed. We go to bed shortly after sunset and prepare for a cold, cold night. I am wearing every one of my layers to bed, with my wool base layer covered by a down layer, topped with my rain gear for extra insulation. I even have my bomber hat on over my buff.
Today's Stats: 9 miles, 1519' ascent, 1647' descent
Trail Stats: 504 miles, 120k ascent
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