Back in the Roan Highlands

Almost no campsite is perfect.  My campsite at Roan Mountain is nearly perfect, except for a streetlight right at its edge.  As a result, I slept poorly, even though the babbling brook put me right to sleep.  Black-out curtains would fix the glaring light, but it’s rarely a problem where I camp, so I’ve got thin white curtains that don’t keep out the bright streetlights.

We were up early enough to snag one of the limited parking spots at Carver’s Gap, which is the trailhead for going southbound to High Knob (the highest shelter on the Appalachian Trail) or for going northbound across several balds to the Stan Murray Shelter.

Hungry for views, Callie and I climbed up the pine forest, taking in the wonderful smell.  Well, I was breathing pine; Callie was probably scenting squirrels, birds, and snakes.

The contrast with the ice-covered trail from the spring of 2018 was amazing.  With a light breeze and pleasant temperatures in the low 70’s, hiking conditions were perfect.  One of the reasons I love the Roan Highlands is that there are expansive views as a reward for making it to the top.

Later, the trail plunges down through thick forest and overgrown bushes. There must have been a few nettles because my arms were on fire for awhile.  We hiked to the Stan Murray Shelter and back again–about 7 miles round trip.  In each shelter, there is supposed to be a notebook for thru-hikers and other visitors to sign in.  Some people write long passages detailing their hikes, hopes and dreams, etc.  During my thru- hike, I rarely wrote much more than my trail name, so that people I knew behind me could see that I was still on the trail.

This time, I signed for both my thru-hike in 1996 and my short hike that day.

Quid Pro Quo, GA>ME ’96, Carvers Gap to Stan Murray Shelter, ’19.

Driving to my Happy Spot: Roan Highlands

I left Twin Knobs early after a quick oatmeal breakfast and coffee. My next destination was Roan Mountain State Park in Tennessee.  This was my first trip in the Brew Hut.  I spent time tenting here in the Spring of 2018.  I first hiked the Roan Highlands in 1996 during my thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail.

There was no need to set google maps to avoid highways. The most direct route was on winding roads. We passed through a lot of small towns with one memorable stop. I was low on groceries, so I picked up supplies at a small IGA. Careful not to get parked in, I sprawled across several spots in the back of the parking lot.

When I came back with the groceries, I could see that a dilapidated pickup truck was parked in front of my truck. A semi truck was behind my Scamp, leaving no way to get out. Callie was barking furiously at two mountain men inspecting my Brew Hut.

“Nice camper,” the old, fat one drawled, as I came up.

“It’s an old one,” the skinny one without many teeth said.

I made small talk about Scamps, where they are made, how old mine was, and the benefits of fiberglass campers.

“Can we see inside?”

I was standing there with my groceries, unlocking the door, wondering how this was going to go.  They both ducked inside for the one minute extended tour.

“It’s got everything you need,” the skinny one said. “Have a good trip.”

After a long drive, I’m camped at Roan Mountain State Park, tucked in against a bubbling creek.

Personal Protector, Will Travel

Tennessee: Roan Highlands, Part Four

(This is the final installment of my recent trip to the Roan Highlands–one of the highest points on the Appalachian Trail).

I don’t always get a good night’s sleep in my tent, but I slept hard on my last night’s stay at Roan Mountain State Park, waking at dawn.  After a quick breakfast of hot oatmeal and cocoa, I was driving back to Carver’s Gap for what I expected to be my most challenging hike to the top of the Roan Highlands:  Roan High Knob.  The parking lot was empty again, except for a lone vehicle with windows coated by condensation (evidence that someone was sleeping inside).

My first problem was to find where the trail went off to the south.  I was wandering around by the outhouse and public informational signs, but the trail southbound was actually a few dozen yards back towards the way I had come from the state park.  Temps were slightly above freezing.  The trail started off with a few scattered icy spots, but quickly became more difficult with long stretches of ice made more slippery by melt.  I passed thee thru-hkers going up, a solo woman who had just made it through the  ice and a couple of guys in the middle of the worst part.  It was manageable and clearly more difficult going down fast than going up slow.

There was an overnight shelter towards the top of the ascent, but it was off the main trail, so I didn’t stop to visit.  Instead, I continued hiking to the top until I found a side trail taking me to the former site of the Cloudland Hotel.

 

Cloudland was a luxury hotel built in the 1880’s above 6000 feet.  There is still a road that reaches Roan High Knob, although it is seasonal and was still closed in late March. I’ve hiked hard trails to the top of mountains that people could access by car or rail, such as Mount Washington in New Hampshire, and it’s never quite the same experience.  As the father to a son in a power wheelchair, I understand more than most that access to nature  is difficult for some people.  It’s so important for more people to get out in nature, including mountaintop views.  However, I can’t say that I am sad that a luxury hotel doesn’t sit on top of Roan High Knob anymore. 

After a tough climb, I wasn’t in a mood to share my view with people who drove to the top or who had slept on comfortable beds.  The Cloudland Hotel lasted only 20 years before being dismantled in 1914.

High Knob was windy, cold, and beautiful.  Even though it was Friday, which tends to see more people on popular trails than mid-week, no one else was around.  I sat behind some rocks and lingered, reflecting on the natural beauty and my hiking trip in general.  We tend to get comfortable in our mostly sedentary lives.  This had been the perfect trip to shake me out of my doldrums.

I continued hiking southbound off the Knob for awhile before realizing that the next major peak was going to be quite a distance down and then back up again.  I decided to end my time on the Appalachian Trail and head back to the Knob and to Carver’s Gap.  I picked my way slowly down the icy trail and was back to my truck before noon.  I had reached all of my goals, so I went back to Dairyland in the town of Roan Mountain and had a celebratory bbq pork sandwich.

I hiked a few short trails in Roan Mountain State Park, checked out some exhibits at the Visitor’s Center, and settled back in for my last night at the campsite.  On the next morning, the road back to Wisconsin would be waiting.

Tennessee: Roan Highlands, Part One

March 25th to March 26th:

As soon as we arrived home from Door County, Julia took off for an Easter Egg Hunt that she has organized for many years.  I jumped in the Nissan truck and started driving south on my tenting/hiking trip.  I stayed overnight at a cheap Red Roof motel in Louisville, Kentucky and then continued on the next morning for another six hours before arriving at Roan Mountain State Park during the early afternoon. 

I wasn’t really sure what the campground would be like, so I was pleasantly surprised to find my tent site about six big steps from a beautiful creek on the side of the mountain.  That’s my truck and tent across the creek.

Add a picnic table, fire ring, on-site water spigot, tent pad, heated bathrooms, and hot showers–for $15/night, and sign me up again.  While the rv section of the campground was about half-full, I was the only one tent camping this early in the season.  A somewhat negative surprise  was that no alcoholic beverages were allowed in the campground. For someone used to camping in Wisconsin, that seemed almost anti-patriotic.  Fortunately, I didn’t learn about that prohibition until the day before I left, so I figured that I was “grandfathered,” more or less.  I imbibed in moderation. No harm, no foul.

On the afternoon of my arrival, I set up camp and hiked a couple of trails inside the campground that were on the other side of the creek and went up the mountain.  After stretching my legs for four or five miles, I ate a light dinner and turned in early.  By the time darkness arrived around 8 pm, the temperature dropped off quite a bit.  During the night, I pulled on a fleece sweater and put on my knit hat.  I won’t lie; I still got cold.  My twenty degree sleeping bag was not up to the task on the first night.  I tossed and turned a bit, knowing that I was returning to the Appalachian Trail in the morning and would be going up into the balds.