Monday, June 13, 2022

Making Up for Lost Miles in May, and Hiking in the Rain is No Joke

 In fitness and in life, there are setbacks. 

I spent the first couple of weeks in May nursing both a sprained knee and a mild case of Covid

I was able to do some walking, even while in isolation.  Once I was able to venture out into the neighborhood, I tried mixing in a little running, say 30 seconds running and 30 seconds walking, and gradually increasing the running intervals.  Meanwhile, I tried some short hikes and eventually took a few classes at Orange Theory.








Plants and animals and sky and water.  My favorites.

On the 21st, we said goodbye to my dear Aunt Alzada, who passed away in January.  There was a beautiful service for her in the garden next to the church she had attended for many years.  My dad gave a moving eulogy, and I got to reunite with relatives I hadn't seen in a long time.


By the end of the month, I was feeling confident to tackle some longer runs and hikes, even though I was still wearing my knee brace.  Coach Denny and I figured out that in order to finish the Great Virtual Race Across Tennesee by the end of August, I would need to average 6.5 miles of forward motion per day, six days a week.  Not an easy task, but doable.

I especially wanted to get some good hikes in because of my planned hiking excursion in June (details to come).  There is an extensive network of trails in the Jefferson National Forest on Brush Mountain, just outside Blacksburg, and I did a 7 mile hike there, and later a 12-mile hike.  I wanted to make sure my knee could withstand the miles of climbs and descents, and have an idea of the time I would take to hike longer distances.  




I could hike a heck of a lot faster if I didn't stop to take so many photos!

But by far my favorite and most difficult hike was at Rocky Knob, off the Blue Ridge Parkway.  I selected a 10-mile loop known as Rock Castle Gorge.  We had quite a bit of rain in late May, and the forecast promised cloudy skies that day, but no rain.  I packed up my too-large daypack with too much stuff and made the 45-minute drive to the trailhead in a light mist.

The overlook near the trailhead.  Not much to see this day.

Hiking experts will tell you that when you set off on a hike, no matter the distance or difficulty, you should always carry what's known as the Ten Essentials, whether you think you'll need them or not.

1. Map and Compass (phones don't count)  

2. Sunscreen, hat, and glasses

3. Rain gear and extra layers

4. first aid kit

5. Dry matches or a lighter

6. Food

7. headlamp or flashlight 

8. Water and a good filtration system

9. Emergency shelter (like a space blanket)

10. Multi-tool (like a Swiss Army knife)

Currenly I have everything but #1 and #5 in my pack.  I use my phone for navigation and carry an external charger (and that thing is heavy!)  I also carry bug spray and a lightweight shovel and toilet paper, and some lists include an emergency whistle, which I also have. By the time my pack is ready for a day hike I feel like I'm going on some long expedition.  (Sometimes I think I might as well throw in a sleeping bag  and a tent for good measure. One day I'll do some overnight hikes.  My current pack isn't quite big enough for those.)

Before I pulled on my pack, I decided to put on my lightweight rain shell for running.  It was still quite damp and misty out.  To my dismay, the path to the trailhead was grass, and my feet were wet even before I started!  The beginning of the hike was through some pretty woods and open pastures (more wet grass), which undoubtedly have some pretty views if the skies were clear.  Navigating a cow pasture in the mist and fog is tricky and I had to keep a sharp eye out for trail markers.  A trail runner emerged out of the mist, and grunted a hello and "have a good hike" as he passed.  Lucky for me he left a path of less-wet grass that I could follow.


(Little did I know when I took these photos, the trail was about to become REALLY gnarly.)

When the trail re-entered the forest and began to descend, the mist became regular old rain.  I wished I had brought a better ran jacket, and made a mental note to find some good rain gear for hiking.  Soon the trail became very steep, and I was thankful for my trekking poles and my Merrill hiking shoes with good grip.  The rocks were slick, the roots and fallen leaves were slick, and the mud was slick.  Each step was carefully planned, and despite a few heart-stopping moments, I managed to stay upright.  The mountain went straight up on one side and straight down on the other.  A few times I had to stop and take a few deep breaths to calm my pounding heart and my rushing adrenaline. 



 (I did stop and admire some of  the little creeks and waterfalls during my harrowing descent into the gorge...)

I don't know when the rain stopped, but eventually it did.  At the bottom of the gorge is a wide gravel road which follows a beautiful creek, and when I reached it I bumped into two ladies about my age who were hiking together.  "Did you just come down from up there?" they asked wide-eyed.  I inquired about the trail going back up, and they said, "well, it's no worse than what you already came down."  Great.  We walked together and chatted for a bit, and exchanged numbers so I could text them when I finished my hike so they would know I was safe.  Unbeknownst to me there is a parking area at the bottom of the gorge, and they told me that if I decided not to continue they would happily give me a ride back to my car.  Hikers are the best, I tell you.


(Relief upon making it to the bottom. Apprehensioin about the trek back up.)

I was hiking faster than they were, so after a little while I continued on up the trail.  I stopped near a house leftover from the days when this gorge was a whole community.  (You can read more about the history of the area here, including how it got its name.)  As I was enjoying my well-earned lunch, here came the trail runnier I had seen earlier.  He stopped and asked, "Did you see that goat up in the woods?"  "Goat?" "Yes, by that old log cabin."  I hadn't seen any goat or log cabin.  I was headed in the direction he was coming from, so I would be on the lookout.  He pulled out his phone and showed me photos he had taken of little orange salamanders he had seen on the trail. (Eastern red-spotted newts, I've learned.) "They're all over the place."  I had seen none.  "I've just been concentrating on not slipping and falling, I guess," I said.  He told me he was running 20 miles that day.  Not training for anything, just out for a run.  (TWO loops of that trail? Sheesh.)  I asked him how treacherous the trail was on the way back up, and he said it wasn't too bad except for a few places where I'd need to navigate some fallen trees on the trail. He quickly flashed a photo of what he said was the worst place, and I caught a brief glimpse of branches and trail but I didn't get a good look at it.  We wished each other luck and we continued on our seperate ways.



 


I finally did see a little salamander and a lone stone chimney, but no goat and no log cabin.  I ran across several trees across the trail and each time wondered, "Is that the picture he showed me?"  Well, I finally came upon this:


How in the heck am I supposed to get around THAT?  There was no way to go but through.  I had to take off my pack and shove it through the tangle of branches a few inches at a time and follow with my body.

Eventually, after making a wrong turn in another foggy field and having to backtrack, I made it back to my car and texted my new friends.  The view into the gorge was still obscured by fog.  Will I tackle the Rock Castle Gorge trail again?  Probably, but only on a clear day and after a nice long dry spell.  And I'll go in the opposite direction.  I'd rather go UP a super steep and rocky trail than down.


(They call this section the "Grassy Knoll."  Wet, foggy knoll is more like it.  I missed a turn soon after taking this photo.  Luckily I hadn't gotten far once I'd discovered my mistake.)

The next day?  A short easy hike on Brush Mountain with my hiking friends, and a few slow running laps aroun Pandapas Pond.



MAY STATS:

Total miles:  125.8

Elevation:  12,979

Geocaches Found:  2*

*After my injury and before coming down with Covid I went to Mill Mountain in Roanoke for a geocaching event, and I hiked about a mile down the old toll road to find a new cache. (Too soon for my wonky knee? Maybe.)  So 2 finds in May: One event, one cache.


(New geocache on the other side.  Also this is part of the Blue Ridge Marathon course which I really want to run again.  Someday.)

I can't wait to tell you about my hiking adventure I just finished in the mountains of North Georgia! Stay tuned! 

Until then...  Keep moving forward and eat lots of plants!



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