Backcountry adventure and cuisine for aspiring hiker trash
US19 NOBO to Damascus
My new job has given me TEN weeks of vacation this year, and up until now I’d only used one of them for a section hike. It was time to correct that deficiency.
My wife and I had already done the Roan Highlands section NOBO, finishing at Mountain Harbour Hostel and B&B off of US19, but I had yet to do the section north of there, so that was this week’s goal- a leisurely 75 mile hike over 7 1/2 days into one of the AT’s best trail towns- Damascus, VA.
Per usual I spent the weeks leading up to the hike obsessing over my gear selections and pack weight. LighterPack was a great help in this regard as I went into full-blown gram weenie mode. I had finally got it to where with 4 days of food (I was resupplying at the midway point) and a full liter of water I was at 25 lbs. The goal is always to be at or below 30 lbs. Above that, and my pack can start to struggle, but that’s also the point at which my geriatric hips and feet say “haha, nope, not happening.” I’m already carrying extra weight in the form of my slightly chubby self, I don’t need to make that even worse by carrying a 40 lb. pack.
I was in the car by 2:00 PM, but thanks to typically lousy Chattanooga traffic and a time change, it was nearly 9:30 when I rolled in to the Hikers Inn in Damascus. I was greeted by Paul, a friendly former hiker originally from Belgium, and quickly escorted to the bunkhouse. I was the only one there, which for a weekend was unusual (but was to be a recurring theme for the week).
I got up at 6:00 the next morning for coffee and breakfast and drove down to Mt. Rogers Outfitters to meet my shuttle driver. I left my car in the MRO parking lot and off we went. I was on the trail by 8:30. I like to keep my first 2 days a little light on miles, and today I was only shooting for 8+ miles over modest terrain.
It’s always a great feeling to get started on a hike, and to smell the woods once again. As I start, I try to listen to body parts that have betrayed me in the past, particularly my feet. Especially my peroneus brevis tendons. Peroneus brevis is apparently Latin for “I will screw your hike UP.” My left one had been barking during training walks 2 weeks before this hike, and it worried me more than a little.
One mile in I entered Bishop Hollow, beginning a gentle climb through trail overgrown by grasses covered in morning dew. By 1.5 miles my shoes were SOAKED. At 2.5 miles I made a summit at 3,820 feet and was treated to great views.
At 3.5 miles I encountered a stream, and it was time to top off my water bottles. I reached for my BeFree filter and…. ruh roh, now we knew why I’d had a nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something. Sure, I was holding the BeFree bladder, but there was no filter attached, just a cap. LOL, barely 3 miles into a weeklong hike, and I’ve already screwed it all up. It was time for a calculated gamble. I would skip the stream, and trust that I could camel up at springs, which if properly selected were ALMOST certainly safe. Almost. Of course, this sucked at the moment because it meant hiking the next 5 miles dry, and it was warm and I was thirsty.
It seems like something like this comes up on every hike. Some sort of obstacle or challenge to overcome. And you handle them all the same way- you deal with it.
It’s amazing though how you can obsess over your gear for weeks and somehow forget one of the most basic pieces of kit. My kids are always proclaiming my many “fails,” and I knew that they would enjoy this one. “Hey Dad, you know why you forgot your filter? It’s because you’re getting OLD. Bwahahaa!”
And so I slogged along, finally reaching Mountaineer Falls, and shortly after that Mountaineer Falls Shelter, which had a water source that I trusted. This is a fairly new shelter, and it sleeps around 14 people, but tonight I had it to myself. Me, and the wooden bear standing guard right outside. He did good work, as this was my only mouse-free shelter for the week.
This stretch of the AT is maintained by the TEHCC (Tennessee Eastman Hiking and Camping Club). Although they are peerless in trail maintenance, they don’t believe in privies. I personally think that this is a mistake; better to concentrate the human impact in one place IMHO. Otherwise, you end up with a lot of the infamous Appalachian Trail TP crocuses. Luckily I had brought my trusty Deuce of Spades to dig catholes. So civilized.
Anyway, for dinner I whipped up a new recipe- Uruguayan Lentil Stew. A definite winner, although I’ll remember to presoak the lentils longer next time. Day 1: 8.8 miles
Do you know what happens when you hike dry all afternoon and then finally camel up when you reach the shelter? Your kidneys wake up at 1 AM, that’s what. And at 3 AM too. Nothing like groggily wandering out of the shelter in the middle of the night to water a tree, all the while stepping on sharp objects barefoot because you forgot to put on your still soggy shoes. More fails for Dad.
After my nocturnal adventures, I slept in a little late and it wasn’t until 9AM that I finally hit the trail after having a couple of granola bars, some Swift’s instant coffee, and then packing up.
The first 2 miles were fairly routine, crossing a couple of small streams, a forest road, and a real road. At around 2.5 miles I was surprised to see a wooden bench on the side of the trail. Like all things flat and wooden on the AT, it cried out for adornment.
The bench was there for a reason- the view of Hump Mountain, Little Hump and Grassy Ridge was amazing.
The next several miles featured several more streams that were probably useful to smart hikers who had brought water filters (this dumb hiker finally found a useful seep). After crossing the “treacherous” Hardcore Cascades, I climbed up to a high point on White Rocks Mountain at 4,121 ft.
It was then less than a mile to Moreland Gap Shelter, which had a piped spring that I was looking forward to. Almost every AT shelter is situated near a water source. Unfortunately, the AT guidebook described Moreland Gap’s water source as “a short distance down a hollow across from the shelter on a blue-blazed trail.” Whenever they say the words “short distance down a hollow” you can bet your booty that your tired legs are going to have to go WAY down a steep hollow for a longer distance than what is stated in the guidebook. This was no exception. This one was even more cruel- once you “got there” you realized that “there” was just a seep, and you had to go 50 yards further downhill to the actual piped spring. Fortunately, it was worth it. COLD spring water flowing at 5 liters/minute. I filled my 2 SmartWater bottles and my filterless BeFree bladder. I also took the opportunity for a bandana bath, and rinsed out my shirt as well. I then slogged my way back uphill to the Moreland Gap Hilton.
Not quite the digs I’d enjoyed the night before, but given the wind hurtling across the gap that evening, I was grateful for it. I unpacked, laid out my sleep gear, and then prepared some dangerously good Kung Pao Spaghetti for dinner. This was a new meal, and one of my best.
Unfortunately, there was no cell service here, so texting my wife and kids would have to wait until the next morning. As the owls started hooting, I turned in for the night. Day 2: 9.6 miles
After an early breakfast the next morning, I realized that there were no springs ahead of me today, just streams. Which meant that I had to go back “down the holler” for water before leaving. Nice little workout to get the blood flowing. And of course the first thing after leaving the shelter was another modest climb. That’s one of the unwritten rules of the AT- it seems that the last stretch to a shelter at night is uphill, and the first stretch leaving it the next morning…..is uphill. Doesn’t seem to matter which direction you’re heading either.
Truthfully though the trail was kind today. After about 3 miles I passed a couple of nice vistas that had great views on this sunny day.
It’s always nice to pop out of the green tunnel and get a great view AND finally get a chance to feel the wind. Of course, in the winter that doesn’t necessarily feel so nice.
After another couple of miles of strolling through the woods I emerged into an old abandoned field that was full of wildflowers, and thankfully almost none of the invasive Russian olives that often take over abandoned pastures.
At the end of the field was a neat old tobacco barn, rumored to be full of snakes!
Shortly thereafter I came to Dennis Cove Rd., a popular shuttling point. From there it was less than 2 miles to my destination for the night- Laurel Fork Shelter. But man, it was HOT, and even though I’d only hiked 6 miles to this point, I just wasn’t feeling another 2. And then I noticed a sign on a tree that said, “Kincora Hiker Hostel 0.2 miles west.” Hmmm, I’d heard a lot about Kincora. It holds near mythical status with thru-hikers, so it didn’t take much to convince myself to check it out. Tomorrow was scheduled to be my shortest day anyway, and I could add the 2 miles to it no problem. So I headed west on Dennis Cove and was immediately reminded why road-walking sucks so, so bad. The heat is amplified by the pavement, and your feet hate the flat hard surface, for some reason preferring the rocks and roots of the trail. But I managed to get there quickly enough and wandered up onto the porch….and nobody’s home except a bunch of cats. Not that that was gonna stop me. I took off my pack and kicked back in an old recliner and waited while the resident felines paced around and scowled at me.
Well, after a while the proprietor showed up. Bob Peoples is an AT legend. He’s around 75 but he still hikes extensively (even in Europe) and is part of numerous volunteer organizations dedicated to work on the AT. Really neat guy. He said since I was the first to arrive that day that I got the room with the double bed. Schweet! The bunkroom had a modest kitchen with a fridge, and right outside off the porch were 2 separate bathrooms, a shower room, and a laundry room. Hiker heaven.
I saved on my canister fuel and cooked up my dinner on his kitchen stove. Potato Samosas, using flour tortillas. Another culinary win.
One of Bob’s feral cats lived in my room. Just like my kitteh at home, her name was Boots, and she was lethal to vermin. I was awoken to a horrible clatter in the middle of the night. Apparently Boots killed a mouse on top of the fridge, and in the process of savaging it she knocked all the pans off the fridge onto the floor. Day 3: LOL merely 6.2 miles.
I got up at dawn the next morning, but before long Bob showed up to share stories about hiking all the Caminos in Europe as well as some historical nuggets about the Appalachian Trail. And before I knew it, it was 8:30 and high time to get moving. I thanked Bob for his hospitality and quickly went the short distance back down the road to enter the woods. The first stretch of trail today was wide and flat as it followed the Laurel Fork. But after a mile and half or so came a very steep descent down some stone stairs into the Laurel Gorge.
Oh, did I mention that it had started to pour rain by this time? Going down steep, slippery rocky trail requires some attention, because one bad step and you’ll be paying for some orthopedic surgeon’s kid’s college. Finally at the bottom I was rewarded with a view from the base of Laurel Falls. However, I did a terrible job of photographing it, so instead here’s a pic from the internet:
photo taken by somebody with real camera skills, i.e. not me
I then turned right to follow the river in the gorge for a short distance. Apparently there is a high water bypass trail that I inadvertently wandered onto, which threw me off with my guide notes. Before making this wrong turn the trail looked like this:
Finally about 3 miles into the morning I reached a really nice bridge to cross the river. At the bridge I realized that I had somehow missed seeing the Laurel Fork Shelter a mile earlier. Guess it was a good thing I decided not to sleep there last night, I’d have been homeless without a van down by the river.
The rain really started coming down, just in time to begin the dreaded 1700 ft. ascent of Pond Mountain. I elected to forego my rain gear because A) it was warm, B) I’d rather be wet from rain than sweat, and C) I knew I was going to be at a hostel that night. As I climbed, I passed the first two hikers I’d seen during the entire trip. WindRider and TrailBlazer were SOBO thru-hikers, and after a quick chat about what was ahead for each party, they took off.
Although my climb was nicely switch-backed, it was indeed what Bob Peoples had described as a “healthy climb.” I was barely making a mile an hour pace. Finally though, I hit the flat area atop the mountain, and found the piped spring.
Nothing picks up a hiker’s pace like a downhill stretch into a trail town or to a hostel. The promise of real food, laundry, a shower, companionship….all of these things motivate your feet. Which is why I made it 3.5 miles down from Pond Mountain in 75 minutes, which was a personal record. I hit Shook Branch Rd. in Hampton TN just before Watauga Lake, and walked up the long driveway to Boots Off Hostel.
Operated by Jim Gregory, Boots Off is only a couple of years old, but it has achieved a great reputation in a short period of time. They have a bunkhouse, tiny cabins, a shower, bathrooms, a camp store for limited resupply, a deck with picnic tables, a station for charging electronics…..if a hiker needs it, they have it. One of the workers- Grumpy from KC- agreed to shuttle me in to Hampton, where I ordered 2 footlongs at Subway (one for dinner, one for lunch the next day).
I checked into my tiny cabin (a mere $25), gave them my laundry ($5), picked up my resupply box of food (mailed ahead to them the previous week), and ate my dinner.
After dinner I wandered back up to the main area to hang out with the other hikers, and learned some disturbing news- Hurricane Florence was predicted to dump as much as 18 inches on parts of the AT, and the Appalachian Trail Conservancy had advised all hikers to get off the trail. Several were planning to hole up at Boots Off for nearly a week! Luckily, I have a son who is a senior in college majoring in….METEOROLOGY. I texted him, and he said based upon the models I had thru Thursday, but that my buns had to be off the trail by Thursday night. I had planned to finish on Saturday. I sought Grumpy out for advice, and he suggested that he shuttle me further up the trail in the morning. Perfect. Problem solved. Day 4: 8.9 miles.
I got an early start in the morning and met Grumpy for a shuttle up to TN91 near Cross Mountain. Grumpy got his trail name not from being grumpy, but because he was the 7th of 7 children. Great guy with lots of stories. We made the drop-off point by 7:30 and I was off. The trail the final 30 or so miles north into Damascus isn’t difficult, and is known in the thru-hiker community as the Tennessee Turnpike. Not that it’s flat by any means, but no horrible climbs.
I passed thru the old Osborne Farm and the crest of Cross Mtn. before passing Double Spring Shelter just before 9:00. No pics because big dummy let his cell phone run out of juice and wasn’t willing to charge it back up with my Lumsing battery while I was making good time. By 10:30 I made it to Low Gap/US421, where there was a ton of road construction going on. I scurried away from the noise and reached a small spring 8 miles into the day. I stopped for second breakfast and used the opportunity to recharge my phone. I continued on up to the top of McQueens Knob, where you can still see the foundations of the old fire tower. Just as you start to descend you encounter the old McQueen shelter. I don’t know if it was ever an official shelter, but it’d do for 2-3 folks in a pinch. I would also rate it a candidate to fall over in a hurricane.
Somebody ahead of me had been marking the trail periodically with the AT trail symbol.
Finally at around 12:30 I reached Abingdon Gap Shelter, once again the only person there. Behind the shelter was the dreaded blue-blazed trail down the hollow to the piped water source. This was the longest trek for water yet, but since I still had energy early in the day I did what I had to do and came back to the shelter with 3 1/2 liters of water. Now it was time for a special lunch. See, I had packed out that extra footlong Subway Club and a bag of Chex Mix. Always, ALWAYS leave a trail town or hostel with a good lunch.
But after lunch there just wasn’t much to do but listen to nature, which is never a bad thing. I heard pileated woodpeckers and various songbirds, and the resident shelter mouse came out to say hello. I got some texting done with friends and family, making sure to stay updated on Florence.
Near dusk, another area resident came out to introduce themselves. No people however. Not one all afternoon.
After the big lunch I just wasn’t feeling dinner, so I had a few snacks and nipped on a mini bottle of Wild Turkey, and turned in for sleep, which would have been really nice except these stinging caterpillars somehow kept getting under my quilt during the night. Day 5: 11.3 miles.
I had carefully rationed my water after arriving to the shelter and filling up way down yonder in the holler, because no way no how was I going all the way back down there again. I had 10+ miles of easy trail ahead of me and a liter and a half of water. There were no water sources for filterless hikers until town, so it would have to last.
I made great time, and would’ve been even faster except that I hit a series of ridges where the trail was absolutely overgrown with stinging nettles. With a dash of poison ivy sprinkled in for extra torment. Hacking away at the nettles hanging across the trail slowed me down a bit.
Once I got past the nettles I was strolling across a sag when I heard the most horrible noises down the draw to my right. It was either demons or (more likely) bears fighting. I had never heard anything like it, and all the hairs on my body stood up before my brain could even process what I was hearing. My brain decided that whatever was responsible for the noise probably found human flesh delicious, so I tiptoed through there like a ballet dancer running a sprint. No demons or bears followed me.
I then hit some drier ridges where I encountered the largest colonies of pink lady slippers that I have ever seen. I’m sure they would have been amazing in the spring.
I also came across a couple of impressive blowdowns.
After 6.5 miles I hit the TN/VA state line and knew it was pure cruising from there.
About 3 1/2 miles later the trail turned to the left and suddenly emerged from the forest….straight into some guy’s backyard. Wasn’t expecting that.
From there the trail follows a path through a park or something, but I went straight down the road a couple of blocks, turned left, and then turned right and quickly found the Damascus Pizza Co. Bar & Grill. This was crucial. By the end of every hike, I develop a craving for a particular food. Once it was for fish and chips. Another time it was for Greek salad. Today it was for something more normal- pizza and beer. Twenty minutes later I had a custom pizza and a Western Front pilsner in front of me. A couple more pilsners may or may not have disappeared while the pizza was in the oven.
It’s weird, but after a week of hiking your body has become a veritable furnace. By the time I finished the pizza half of it was already burned, and I didn’t feel the slightest bit full. After leaving a nice tip (they were VERY hiker friendly) I walked over to the MRO parking lot, got my car, and drove a whole block up the street to the Dragonfly Inn. My wife really likes to finish a hike into a trail town in a nice fashion, and I have to admit she’s on to something. The Dragonfly didn’t disappoint.
One of the neat things about it is that Ralph the owner also owns the famous Damascus Diner across the street- that’s the breaskfast part of this particular B&B. Breakfast there the next morning was outstanding. After which I began the 5 hour drive home, 2 days earlier than originally planned. However, I’d had 6 quality days on the trail. My hiking Jones would be sated for a little while at least. Day 6: 10.2 miles.
Enjoyed the diary of the trip. BTW, I have seen McQueen Mountain from Shady Valley and have met one of the McQueen descendants who worked for the Nature Conservancy in Shady Valley. I have a story to tell. Bet you won’t forget your water filter again!