Pilgrimage in the Mountains: Lessons from Virginia's "Triple Crown"

Part I

"Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean..."

~ John Muir ~

In Medias Res

We pass through a narrow, mountain corridor; the trail, barely visible under Autumn's crispy fronds, is laced with rows of fading grass blades that swish and sway against our thighs. Midday's harsh glare flares through the treetop canopy of chioanthus and draws the sweat from our pores like a leech to life blood. The forest rooftop glows radiant yellow as the sunlight spreads from one leaf to the next. We adjust our loads - tighten waist belts, yank on shoulder straps - and carry on through the ethereal mountain pass.

Welcome to the Appalachian Trail in Roanoke, Virginia. At 17 miles in, we are two men down and anxious to reach our destination. On this warm November day, my companions and I are backpacking across the "Triple Crown" of summits that border the Great Valley of Virginia in Roanoke. We have already been to Dragon's Tooth, a mighty rock monolith that reaches heavenward like a crippled, outstretched hand. McAfee Knob, renowned for "the anvil" rock outcropping that hangs some three-thousand feet above the valley surface, lies 2.5 miles behind us. The crowning achievement of our expedition, Tinker Cliffs - a half mile length of granite ledges overlooking the valley - is another 7 miles away. And we are already so tired.

Commence: Adventure

Friday, November 6, 2009

At 10 pm, the trail head is cold and vacant, a black hole to all who dare enter. We are six strong: Tim Bob, short but fearless; Matthew, eager to get underway; Sherwin, undaunted by the task at hand; Daryl, packing enough food to feed a small army; Robbie, his mighty "Moses" staff at the ready; and myself, anxious for adventure.

"Let's do this," mutters Tim Bob, his words oozing with concrete resolution. His L.E.D. headlight punches a funnel through the black of night, as he starts on the trail. We follow, in single file, up the Dragon's Tooth trail. Marked by rectangular, blue blazes every thirty yards, it is well maintained, and with our headlights illuminating the way, we have little trouble sticking to the path. In next to no time, we have arrived at the t-junction with the Appalachian Trail. "Where do we go from here?" someone asks. We go up.

From the intersection at "Lost Spectacles Gap," it is two and a half miles to the pointed peak of Cove Mountain, known to hikers as Dragon's Tooth. This section of the trail soon graduates from smooth to rocky, from gently sloped to precariously steep, from easy to strenuous in the same time it takes for our heart rates to surge and our blood to boil. We are no longer merely hiking, for the terrain before us demands our bodies' full attention. With each others' help, we jump over pitfalls, scale granite slabs, navigate hazardous ledges, clamber up rudimentary ladders hammered into the mountainside, and climb over one obstacle after another. Unhindered, we press on till midnight, when - at last - we approach the summit at 3,020 feet.

Ahead of us, the monolith rises to the star-splattered sky, its faint silhouette a sublime welcome to the great outdoors, our home and training ground for the next two days.


To Be Continued...