The Motion Picture Event!

Welcome to the Adventure

I now present to you, Manventure '09: The Motion Picture, in all of its epic glory. Enjoy!

(enlarge to full screen for the best view)

And keep a watchful eye on the horizon: part III is still on its way!

Photo of the Week # 16

"Tim Bob & the Tooth"

November, 2009

Cove Mountain (Dragon's Tooth) in Roanoke, VA

Appalachian Trail

Considering he was the only one brave enough to actually climb that high, he has earned his rightful place among the photos of the week! You are welcome, Tim Bob. May we embark on many more adventures together!

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

Part II

A Rocky Start...

Saturday, November 7, 2009

The mountains are alive with sounds: birds squawking, leaves rustling, branches swaying, and distant,

mysterious murmurings. Nature's alarm clock has no snooze button. We crawl from the toasty security of our goose down cocoons and throw open our tent flaps, emerging into the crisp, mountain atmosphere at 3,000 feet. Dragon's Tooth beams down on us, the early morning sun glimmering at its perforated edges. After lowering the bear bag, we indulge in a healthy breakfast of granola, oats, and dried fruit, fuel for the day's daunting task. But first thing's first: we must explore!

After a slithering climb up a large crack and a slippery slab of granite, we reach the top of Dragon's Tooth. From here, we enjoy a spectacular view of the terrain that still lies ahead. In the distance, we see a piece of McAfee Knob, our immediate destination. Even further, we see Tinker Cliffs, just visible through the morning haze. For a few years now, I've maintained the opinion that mountains are deliberately misleading. Often, when one is certain they have hiked a mile, they have only traveled a quarter the length. Distance and time in the mountains cannot be judged by the sweat on one's shirt or the time on their watch. The mountains are unpredictable and always - without fail - more dangerous than they appear. For this reason also, distance and time cannot be judged by sight. Time and time again, the mountains have demonstrated their knack for misleading hikers up meandering paths with one false summit after another and no end in sight. So naturally I have the audacity to say, "Oh, yeah. We can cover this in a day. No problem, guys."

Committed

Today, we will cover 12 miles. We will also have to contend with steeper terrain than expected, and one team member's increasing bout with the seasonal flu. Already at the start of our journey, Robbie is not feeling well, but he's determined to push through and give the venture his all. And since backpacking is much like "going all in," as with a game of poker, Robbie doesn't have too many alternatives. As soon as we've taken down camp and loaded our backpacks, we hit the trail, retracing our steps from last night's treacherous climb. The Appalachian Trail is steep and rocky here and covered with slippery leaves, so we move slowly, at first, albeit faster than we did going in the opposite direction. Surviving several slips and near-spills, we arrive at Lost Spectacles Gap and continue, northbound, on the AT. For the next 9 miles, Tim Bob will lead the way, since he is the only team member who has already hiked this stretch of the trail. He sets a moderate pace, taking us up a series of switchbacks through dimly lit forest. Coupled with our knee-blowing descent from the "Tooth," this climb marks the beginning of our epic voyage through the Virginia countryside. "And it only gets harder from here, gents," says Tim Bob.

Over the course of the day, we travel across a wide array of scenery: obscure outcroppings, random "windows" to the surrounding valley, views of red-tinged trees, soaring raptors, abandoned barns, and open pastures similar to those seen in the lands of Tolkien's "Middle Earth." I cannot help humming the "Fellowship" tune as we march across the open meadows of Beckner Gap. "This is where it gets rough," Tim Bob warns. Great, we say. Guess it wouldn't be worth doing if it wasn't challenging, though... Right? We cross a number of stiles laced with electric fences, and Sherwin gets fried like a squirrel nibbling on a power line. Just kidding, although we joke about the possibilities, and Sherwin retaliates with strong dosages of sarcastic and self-deprecating wit. We cross the stiles unscathed and begin the long and tiring ascent up a massive hill. Later, we dub it "The Hill of Death." When we finally reach the top, we are red-faced and out of breath. Robbie, weakened by his illness, can hardly breathe in the first place. Then and there, we say if he can make it to McAfee Knob, he will live in infamy as a true mountain man. Truthfully, it's his only option aside from digging his own grave beside the trail. There is no easy way out; we must all stay committed. Already, I am reminded of the meaning of adventure and of how quickly plans can change in the mountains...

Plan B

For the next several hours, we hike upon an undulating ridge line with frequent views of the adjacent valleys. These momentary glimpses remind us of what we're striving towards and embolden us to keep hiking, despite the difficulty. Regardless, by this point, we have made a group decision to not continue to McAfee Knob by nightfall. Since Robbie is ill and it has taken us longer to cover the mileage than expected, it would be unwise to "push it." Therefore, we'll stay at Johns Spring Shelter, just a couple miles beyond Route 311, and reach McAfee the following morning. This, everyone agrees, is more than suitable as a "Plan B."

The temperature drops, and shadows shift in the forest. It's almost 4 o'clock. We hear the low murmurs of an active highway and know we are close to 311. Moments later, we discover a wooden sign telling us we've traveled 9 miles since leaving Dragon's Tooth. The AT parking lot is crawling with hydrated hikers who stare at us forlornly, as we stagger out of the woods and stumble across the highway, rejoining the trail on the other side. To our shame, I wonder if we would have carried on had we left a car at this particular lot... Thankfully, though, for the sake of the enterprise and our reputations, our cars are miles away, and the only way there is by foot.

We have crossed several streams today and filtered enough water for the last few miles, but one major detail has slipped past me: Johns Spring Shelter has no water source. To find water, we must hike an additional mile (although, in the heat of the moment, we are so certain it is longer than that!) to Catawba Shelter. While an extra mile is not a terrible upset, considering how far we've already walked, it is a huge blow to our morale and Robbie's hope for survival. But we have no choice; our bottles are nearly empty. In the near-dark, we keep hiking. The AT winds steeply up Catawba Mountain. With a mile to go, Robbie, Daryl, Sherwin, and I lose sight of Tim Bob and Matt, who are - bone-dry - out of water and desperate to find a spring. The trail darkens before us, becoming a haunted 'night land' of unsettling quiet and eeriness. We are forced to retrieve our headlights. Now a funnel of light paves the way, and we 'up the pace,' anxious for the end.

At last, we catch up with our companions, who have also resorted to their headlights, and only

moments after rejoining them, we catch sight of Catawba Shelter, an old-fashioned lean-to, and another wooden sign, this one directing us to the spring! Everyone sighs in relief, and - as we reach the shelter - we drop our heavy packs and praise God for helping us through this trying day. Over the next hour, we filter enough water for a small army and drink most of it, too. Dinner consists of freeze dried ingredients and boiling water. Salt-saturated, meal-in-a-bags never tasted so good! We devour our dinners, topping the evening off with a fleeting fire, hot tea, and Japanese sake! Adding a little excitement to the evening, Matt - in his exhaustion, we'll say - manages to set a bowl of sake ablaze, nearly scorching his eyebrows, which leaves him with the well-deserved trail name, "Fire Water."

Later, we rest warm in our mummy bags, spread across the shelter floor. Reminiscing on the day's events is challenging, since we can only focus on the final day. We have traveled almost 15 miles since Friday night. Nine more await us... Robbie is rested, breathing adequately again, but understandably exhausted. We are sore, weak, and even afraid, but we are not defeated. We did not finish the day by our own strength, and it is the same strength that will see us through to the end of our pilgrimage in the mountains.

To Be Concluded...