Yep, you guessed it. I was diagnosed with COVID two days ago.

It all began one week ago with a serious sore throat. That persisted for a couple of days. I went out to meet two friends, socially distant and outside, on Thursday. Then I did my last day at our school on Friday. I was fatigued and upon return  home just laid down that afternoon. I bailed on a backpaking trip with Jimmy Deane citing low energy and the feeling of fatigue.

Saturday was a complete wash. I barely had the energy to walk around the house. I did leave in hopes of finding a COVID test but you can’t access those on the weekends here in TN apparently. On Sunday, I started feeling a little better and went outside for a walk. First thing Monday morning, I had a couple of clients in my office. Straightforward went I to the Blount County Health Dept and tried to be one of the first in line, failing miserably as it wrapped around the block that morn. Returning  at lunch, was soon met with the news they had closed the line for the day. I wondered about how many people were in my situation and said to heck with it. However, determined, I proceeded to the knox County Health Dept the following morning and waited in the cold weather outside.  45 minutes is what it required to finally receive a swab.

Celebrating my success, I returned home and suited up for a run over in the Urban Wilderness. It was a four mile saunter, and no record was set. (I am blessed to have this resource in my front yard and was delighted to share my training routine there with John Becker  a while back if you didn’t get a chance to hear it.) But the sunshine raised my spirits. I hadn’t done much cardio at all for the past seven days. Dripping sweat I received a notification on my phone. Morning lab results were in from Memphis, already. The result was quite a surprise, POSITIVE for COVID.

Two days hence, I am feeling much better but on quarantine until Dec 21. AJ, Jon and Becca had been organizing a  trip up to Cumberland Gap that I was anticipating eagerly. We were planning to do two days up there at Chadwell Gap but alas, my wings are clipped.  So, in summary, if you get a sore throat, get tested so you don’t infect anyone else. I am a diligent mask wearer and try to exercise social distance. But, anyone who knows me is aware of my low immunity to virus.  It was just a matter of time. For reference, my friend Wendi is on her second go around with COVID. The health dept told me that I would have immunity for three months. And that is precisely when Wendi acquired her second infection. She also works in the school system.

Be careful. Don’t infect your parents and friends. I wish everyone a Merry Christmas. If I can get better, Bugsy and I are looking to do the AT from Springer to Dicks Creek after Dec 27. Now, let’s break it all down with some bluegrass. And who better to lead us than the father of Bluegrass music. A little trivia about this selection below. You may notice the guitar picker as Peter Rowan, but do you now who is playing the banjo? (I’ll bet Greg Hawkins does)

 

Stars dominate the night on a cold mountaintop evening..

A new friend, Jimmy Dean invited me up to join him. Jimmy hit me up a while back and wanted some beta about getting into mountaineering. He backpacks the Smokies almost weekly.

I relished the notion of the years first snow hike. And getting to make a new acquaintance.

It was more than a little bit cold. In fact, my water bottle froze solid sitting outside the shelter. Jimmy and I were eventually joined by a southbound through hiker named Cowboy from Atlanta.

My water bottle froze then grew a nose.

It was a typical Highlander fire and we worked hard for it.

Jimmy showed some outdoor acumen with his fire building abilities.

Yes, it’s hatchet totin time.

We had an incredible evening atop Cosby knob. I outline my thoughts for Jimmy’s mountain ambitions, and for anyone reading this I always suggest starting on Mount Rainier.  (click for a link to our trip there in 2004)

I leave Jimmy Dean to return back out across Mount Cammerer and back down the AT.

Plenty of traffic was heading up to the AT for views from the tower. And I saw hikers wearing a mask or scarf and exercising social distancing. That is encouraging.

 

Becca stirs the flames in anticipation of nightly events.

But we’ll start at the beginning. It was Greg Hawkins who asked me about doing the Eagle Creek trip this year. I ran into him several weeks ago over at Abrams Creek. But you may remember him from over a year ago from up at Mary ridge. He is the one who awakened to a bobcat in his face and was accompanied by Ark. We had all apparently originally met several years ago over at Caldwell fork. These guys obviously share our love for backpacking.

As we pulled into Eagle Creek, Richard and Paul were paddling around after looking for his belongings from the previous year’s outing there. You may recall that Richard took quite a spill and made an epic paddle across with a shovel. Since they both had to work the following day they were only able to paddle over for the afternoon but we enjoyed their company and he left us with fire-making accoutrements.

 

There are three eagles in this photo but you probably can’t detect them. For the past three years as I paddle into the mouth of eagle Creek, we are greeted by at least one of them.

Ark his wife Jennifer accompanied me along with Greg and his wife Amy. It was a perfect Friday afternoon paddle,  we made really good time as you can tell.

Jennifer and Amy put on quite the show cooking seminar . Ark performs his usual supervisory duties.

There is a bit of fishing up the creek.

 Following a  very restful Friday night, we arose  Saturday to f percolate a lot of coffee and begin the traditional sojourn up t Shuckstack summit.

It’s one mile from eagle Creek  to campsite 91 and there are six stream crossings; wet ones I might add.  At the Lost Cove campsite, a big ascent looms which culminates in 2200 ft gained to the Appalachian Trail terminus. I look over my shoulder after spying on two monster boar gliding the adjacent ridge and here comes Becca, barefooted. She had rubbed a blister on her heel from all the wet crossings and decided to forego  boots.

She’s definitely John’s daughter, and gained our respect accordingly. There was a crowd at the tower base and I had forgotten my jacket, so not much tarrying occurred here.

It was an A+ day. Bluebird all the way. I kept hoping to see Myers and Frank. AJ was unable to join us as his wife had experienced some medical issues and I hope she’s recovering well. Myers was supposed to paddle over with me but his father also experienced  medical issues and he was similarly unable to join . Fortunately he was released from the hospital without much diagnosis.

Not a single cloud in the sky.

Ark and Greg chose to attend to the campsite in our absence. After all, I told Ark it was part of his duty as a potential initiate to gather wood and water.

Soon, everyone was back down from the top of the mountain and our 8 mile hike. Ark and Greg  spent some time gathering wood for the festival council fire at Sithenge.

Split and stacked, that’s how we roll.

Becca Stokes the flames as we begin the initiation process. Ark was eager to cast his lot with the southern Highlander crew.

There was much discussion about the history of Highlander initiation ceremonies. Ark made his case for installment and even performed a small skit. After a round of voting, however, it was determined that he was not quite ready for full-fledged membership this year. The deciding vote was cast by his sponsor, Greg who determined that Ark had not fully passed the bribery portion of his duties. Greg agreed to mentor Ark for the next year in anticipation of potential induction at that time.

In summary, we had an incredible time at Sithenge and campsite 90. I will say that someone has cut down a lot of trees out on the Sithenge area. And that is incredibly disappointing. These were obviously healthy trees that have been here for years. This only tends to happen in places where boats or horses frequent, haven’t you noticed? Folks who are too lazy to work their way into a site are apparently too lazy to cross a bridge for firewood. The same thing goes for canned foods. No backpacker carries this type of item but we find them in these places, often toted by the same offenders. The pandemic has brought folks off the video game world into the natural one. But with that comes responsibility. I think a mandated leave no trace course should be considered before a backcounty permit is issued. What are your thoughts? We found wet wipes dumped in the creek and food left in the fire pit. This is inexcusable.  I also had a guy with his dog up at the Shuckstack tower.  This is ridiculous.

Aside from this, we had a perfect weekend.  And I really enjoyed the company of Ark and Jennifer, Greg and Amy, Jon and Becca. Eagle Creek did not disappoint and our weather was superb. The only rain seen was a bit after we all bedded down on Friday. We made the channel crossing as the winds picked up, just in the nick of time.

 

I’ve walked by this place so many times I couldn’t remember the last time I actually spent the night there. This one falls in the category of the Friday night quick hits.

Oh ballerina britches and Mark joined us this time.

Myers was not able to attend for some unknown reason.

The weather was perfect for a short shot out of Maryville and a two and a half mile climb. The chill night made a warming fire that much more important.

This site doesn’t see a lot of use apparently. There’s plenty of wood and water to be found.

for the second week in a row I was awakened at 2:00 a.m. by the shrill screaming of a neighbor. It was Nick who said something had come up under his tarp. I believe it likely was the deer. Either that or were hainted.

Just a short jaunt with friends and company in the out of doors. A back country reset I call it.

Instead of music this week, I am sharing a bit of comedy. See if you recognize anyone’s acting talents here. It tickles me every time I watch it.

We planned to go toward the remote part of the world where the crowds would not ford. For some reason Flint Gap and this little low sideling campsite came to mind.

Bugsy was in town. He drove up Friday afternoon and we had time to get in a good mountain bike ride .

The splendor of a Smokies Autumn is unequaled.

Mark assumed fire duty this trip. Outstanding job he performed all around.

We shared fireside tales with our new friends, John Koehler and his grandson. Flint Gap is not a nice campsite, barely room for two tents. John and his son got the good area..

We had some dinner and celebrated news from John’s grandson via his inreach satellite connection. Biden defeated Trump.

This was met with skepticism. But ended up being true.   Huzzahs all round because the environment was under assault under that regime. Not to mention all the other damage inflicted. But I digress.

2:45 am.     I am awakened to shrill screaming down at the flat spot. There was a bear curiously sniffing a tent and our neighbors were startled. So ended my sleep for the evening. Mark was unaffected.

This little stream crossing is all it takes to keep people off of that side of the world. And I’m very thankful. Other than not sleeping after the purported bear incursion, it was an entirely successful journey with Mark and Bugsy.

Brian reminded me that he had camped over here about 5 years ago. I put him on this spot and two others during a journey at that time. Oops! So much for a new Smoky’s experience but Mark did get some new miles. Hannah mountain is undoubtedly one of my favorite trails in the Smokies. Tis but a 6.1 mi one way ticket from the back side of Abrams Creek.

Just understand that the water source at Flint Gap is low. And it tends to be that way most times I’ve camped there. Here are your Trail stats compliments of Strava.

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Wilson, Mikayla, Sarah and I went up to the greatest rock in the south.

Sarah makes a descent from one of these beautiful sandstone Cliff faces.

Mikayla was our lead though. She gets better every time we climb together. There’s a lot of stuff down there in Muir valley. Here we are on the Animal Crackers wall.

We camped out at Miguel’s and started a fire there.

This is a 5.10 +. And if you think it looks hard you have no idea.

Getting into the pmrc took some four-wheel driving. Thank goodness Mikayla captained the diesel Ford. We decided that the acronym for pmrc is Putin makes Republicans commies.

We got on the aptly named volunteer wall.

The weather was quite chilly up in Slade, Kentucky this past weekend. And on Sunday we dealt with a lot of wind. But overall we couldn’t have asked for better. We set up about four routes each day. And all of us gave it our best shots. Fun stuff always at the Red River Gorge

 (Seth Dortch makes this photographic magic happen)

But Myers captured the one above. In fact, Jon, Seth and I only made it up to here before the sun set on us Friday.

(Myers was on the rock and captured this photo of us actually emerging from the heath bald)

We made good time with full, heavily laden packs.

 

(another of Myer’s shots above)

 This photo is but a small fraction of the near record-breaking group in attendance at the annual SouthernHighlander Hangover event. The last big number was during THIS event.

 Hangover 2020 was one for the ages. It beckons back to the days of John Muir and Ronrico.

 We began late Friday afternoon. The weather was fine and we wished to hit the rock before sunset. We only made it to the heath bald because I ran into this guy.

 

 (Not Bert, but Tipi. Bert came up with us.) Tipi was camped at Grassy Gap as our team scrambled up to the Hangover. We briefly visited before departing into the sunset. Tipi promised to come up the next morning. Tipi and I have been friends since 2008 when we worked on trying to reverse the damage done up at the Hangover when the forest service clear cut all those trees. But that is a story for another campfire. I always enjoy running into him, he is a kindred soul and sage of the Citico. If you run into Tipi, it is a blessing and we enjoyed catching up since it has been a few years since we crossed paths back down on the lower Big Fat Trail shown here.

We met Myers and AJ and Jon Dempsey and David Snyder who had established camp. We had the Hangover to ourselves and what would end up being 18 of our closest friends.

 (yours truly Sat. morn) If that face looks familiar, it should. It’s Jon Dempsey. In the background is Jacqui who didn’t quite summit Friday night, despite their best efforts. She did make it to the Grassy Gap spot and camped alongside Tipi with her daughter, Marguerite and Andrew.

 Myers was missing something on this trip. Ballerina Britches opted out after hefting his pack and deciding in was too much to bear. That never stopped 71 year old Tipi, though. At 75 lbs, his pack was the prize winner. You can say, he was definitely humping a heavy pack.

 Richard’s kite of diversity. And somehow it now has my name on it. He has flown it from all the high peaks of the South, or a lot of them.  Ok, maybe three or four.

 This was a  Saturday group photo. Because everyone else was tent bound. Why? because it was piss pouring the rain.  Buckets. We had a lot of rain through the nights and a good hour torrent at sunset Saturday. But here we were, minus Curt, who had hiked up all the way from Slickrock via the Nutbuster. Backpacker Magazine rated it as the toughest backpacking trip in the South several years ago. Tipi would agree, and so do I. It is a hefty pull. So Curt ended up in his tent for the evening. It was great to have David, Jon and AJ come all the way out with us. Myers did a great job establishing camp and taking photos, even though he looks like Kilroy here.

 Mikayla and Summer arrived Saturday, along with Robbie and Marley. It was nice to have some of the climbing crew along for this special place and time.

 

 There was a Russian in the midst wearing a MAGA hat. I have always said there is a correlation between the two. Now you have proof. We had to do some engineering on the water source. The main one was but a drip. Years ago, Danno and I excavated this one , so I brought alone some flexible tubing to make it flow like a river. Richard and Jon assisted in this engineering feat. Too bad Robbie B is a water engineer and arrived too late for any input.

 AJ, David Snyder and Myers relax after a hard earned ascent.

 Seth made it up and provided those great initial shots. In fact, there were so may great shots, I couldn’t possibly upload them all here. But man, the clouds made for some good refraction.

 

 Somehow, the skull and crossbones has been replaced by Dixie colors. Again, that is a Richard thing.

 Marguerite set a record for youngest ascent of Hangover. At five years old, she and Tipi whipped me up pretty good. But, I am used to taking beatings from young girls, and have the scars to prove it.

Myers really gets some good ones.

It was a festive crowd, undeterred by a little rain, unlike others in the past. I don’t know anyone who bailed because of a frightful forecast,,including a 5 year old child. It was great to catch up with old friends and GET DEM DISHES!  When I look at the people that were together on this trip, it represents diversity and optimism. I hope you plan to vote or already have on Tuesday. This is the most important election of our lifetime and what happens to places like Hangover, hangs in the balance. I would say, if you are happy with the daily drama gushing from Washington, then by all means reject any efforts to restore America to its rightful place on the world’s stage. I am looking forward to a time when we can be proud to travel overseas again instead of having to explain why our leader is doing the bidding of Putin.

Cheers.

John

Now let’s end on a musical note with a little Stevie Ray in hopes his Texas vibe will carry the state into the BLUE.

 

 

It is not often that we get to join forces again with the mighty Muir faction. The story about how we all came together is the stuff of Smoky’s legend.

When Chuck,  Ledge and bunion told me they were coming down this weekend, I needed to clear the schedule. Although they are aging and suffering from some physical issues, the Faction was undeterred in their hiking goals. Ledge and Chuck made the ascent up to Ramsay’s Cascades with about a thousand of their closest friends.

Even though it was car camping we still had a blazing fire and a most excellent meal was prepared by Bunyan. These guys are incredible, stalwart outdoor men. but one thing I really appreciated was two years ago before leaving for Nepal, Bunyan drove all the way down to hang out with me. He wanted to wish me good tidings for my trip to Everest. What he did was bring the Muir faction luck which carried me to the top of the world. I was very happy to carry them and Muir along.

Upon my return, we had a welcome home party and all three of these guys drove down to share this moment with me. That the the sign of true friendship. Looking back over the people that are important in my life I have realized that some of them haven’t been around forever. And some of the folks who have been around forever, ended up not being there when you need them. They say that integrity is defined by doing the right thing when no one is watching. I’m happy to be surrounded today with friends who do have personal integrity. These things are blessings from above.

I left them that morning after a leisurely breakfast in hopes of doing the offtrail to Injun Creek. It was another glorious Smokies Fall morn, with steam rising from the river as I rounded the corner into Greenbrier. I jogged into campsite 32 and passed more people than you could imagine. Three of them were my neighbors and Highlander pal, Andrew, Jacqui and Marguerite, their daughter. You can imagine their surprise as I came emerging from the woods all sweaty from jogging uphill for three miles.

 

 

There are so many people out and about in the Smokies right now it’s ridiculous. It’s almost as if people didn’t know the outside world existed pre Covid.

Anyway, I had to get back home and rest a little before part three of my weekend started Sunday morning.

This is one place you don’t have to worry about crowds. Michaela, Scotty, Micah, Davey and I embarked for what I think is the best rock in town. But it is a secret, undisclosed location.

We did have it to ourselves. Multi-pitch climbing in Knoxville is a little known venue. You can see the weather was perfect. We spent  about 4 hours to climb this one route. That’s with three of us on one rope. The way multi-pitch works is you have a leader, which in our case was Mikayla. She led us up to the first anchor point. Then we set up another lead to the next anchor point. There were three pitches on this route and a bees nest in the middle. Again, our group was alone on this rock and my reluctance to publicize the whereabouts are understandable.

A fair amount of rigging is required at the anchor point. Along with a bit of a blood sacrifice. This limestone is sharp and rarely used. So I had to deposit some skin.

That’s where Michaela comes in. She breezed right through that 5.10 crux like it was nothing.

It was such a fantastic and glorious weekend of activity in Knoxville and the surrounding area. Sometimes you got to take a break where you can find one.

I would say that was the end of our weekend but we found time to go commune together afterwards. Many thanks to Micah and Robbie for the beta and shuttling.

Now, let’s end with a musical note, shall we? It’s Del’s version, but since he was one of the Bluegrass Boys, I don’t think Uncle Penn or Bill would mind.

 

It was that time of year when Frank and I embark where I left off, good old downtown Damascus, Virginia. Notice the elevation we were facing on this leg.

We overnighted at the Dancing Bear Lodge and left early the following morning after completing a car shuttle. It is roughly 80 miles via Trail to Atkins Virginia. Our first morning saw some pretty good climbing.

The views climbing up out of Damascus along the creeper Trail are, well you can see.

I was weighing in at 37 lbs. Approximately 10 lbs. of which  was my food weight. Of course Frank was at 25.

Our first night was by a clear mountain stream. The temperatures dropped into the lower 40s. I was carrying a warm bag and appreciated it that particular evening and the next.  But not so much later in the trip when my sticky legs were welded together like velcro.

That’s me hiking with the livestock prior to the big climb up to Buzzard Roost.

That’s Frank emerging from the heath toward the summit of buzzard roost.

Tuesday would end up being our monster pull. I would say it’s one of the toughest sections of the Appalachian Trail I can remember. We ascended to a place called Buzzard Rock. It was over 2,200 ft of climbing. With full packs this was quite the chore but our weather was ideal. Here is a look at the elevation profile of that particular climb. 

The work was hard but the pay is good as you will see from these views.

After a short rest it was time to get back after it.

We had miles to go before we slept that day. It was going to be another 14 miler.

Our original plan was to camp at elk garden until we learned there was no water in the vicinity. We found a suitable spot a couple of miles on up the trail towards Grayson Highlands. this cowboy spot would have been perfect had it not been for the water hole being six tenths of a mile down the hill. he was getting dark and by the time we made the second run down to the bottom of the hill to fetch water after 14 miles we were joined by JB. He was out for one night and started a beautiful fire on another crisp and cool evening. We enjoyed his company and conversation.

JB has traveled the world trekking and exploring so we had a lot to talk about. He owns a river guide service called oars.

We Rose the next morning to make the acsent to Mount Rogers, the highest point in Virginia. I’ve been to Mount Rogers several times and the Grayson Highlands area. It is a high Alpine environment, reminiscent of somewhere out west.

  Ponies are an iconic part of the Grayson Highlands landscape. Unfortunately, they had rounded up most of them the day before our arrival.

On this, our third day, we missed a turn somewhere. It added to our mileage. We overshot the trail to the tune of a mile, which is aggravating to say the least. This night found us dragging into the Old Orchard shelter. Great camping was to be found here and we knew of this thanks to the ranger who apprised us the previous day.  The stars and moon were blazing. The old Orchard campsite was one of the highlights of this trip. Sadly, we were never too far from the sound of traffic noise.  Modified muffler cars and Harley-Davidsons sometimes ruin the wilderness experience.

I’m getting older and it’s a point that is driven home on some of these treks. We ended up hiking with a bunch of young guys who were 29 and 30 years old. Granted, I hike most of the time by myself and so did Frank, but we would always end up in camps together. There are things that I forget sometimes. They say that successful mountaineers must have short memories. I’m not that successful but I certainly forget how much pain each previous expedition was. And so it is with these A.T. backpacking journeys. This was one of the more difficult sections I could remember. If you look at the elevation profile it’s self-explanatory. There were many 15 Mile days if you count the backtracks, turnarounds and water fetchings. But our weather was splendid and I watched Fall happen every night before my eyes.

That’s me and Senator Tim Kaine, the Man who would have been vice President of the United States. Not really but it could have been. He does look like him. And I had Frank convinced that’s who it was. Then he tried to convince us that he was. We camped with these guys three out of five nights.

Such variety of scenery and topography. And to see fall emerge  before our eyes. This is what I call the good good.

Our fourth night was at the Trinity shelter and it was kind of crowded. We were sharing it with an outdoor wilderness School of teenage girls. So this made for some cramped camping conditions. As you know I’m generally averse to shelter staying anyway. But it is fairly safe to assume that none of us slept well that night due to the snoring of an unnamed man we will just call Larry.

Our final push was into the last shelter called partnership shelter. this is without a doubt one of the nicest shelters I have ever seen. this night we opted to actually sleep in the shelter given its amenities. That in the impending threat of huge rain. To this point we had unparalleled weather. But a hurricane in the gulf was stirring some things up. partnership shelter is also known as a place for being able to receive  pizza delivery. So we all were anticipating this luxury after 5 days on the trail. And of course our eyes were bigger than our stomach.

When they said 28-in Pizza they really meant it. I scarf down eight pieces in one quick swell. Frank ate about six. We were able to give some away to a through hiker, and the rest was donated to the girls outdoor wilderness group when they came rolling in later. Those young ladies were very appreciative. We also hung with two guys who were hucking old school rucksacks. Mark and Zulu were doing a section to Harper’s Ferry. They are intrepid adventurers taking off with old school, heavy gear. But I didn’t hear a single complaint from them. Glad to have shared camps with these fellers. It is a grand section so let’s end with a bit of Gabriella doing what she does best.

 

 

 

 

 

That’s legendary triple crowner Bert Emerson there. I was joined by him and Richard for a quick hit overnight on Friday. We left Maryville and headed in for our most used spot.

At 71 years of age this guy has not slowed down a bit. Three times on the Appalachian Trail, three times on the Continental divide, and three times on the PCT. Them’s impressive stats in anyone’s book.

When Rambo is in camp you will not go hungry.

The temperatures have cooled off perfectly. I slept like a log in my new tent. We rose early to get out and back into town so I could begin the second part of my weekend.

There was some homemade Tabasco sauce to be dealt with. I grew a variety of super hot peppers this summer. Ghost, Tabasco, and Scorpion.

This set me up perfectly for Sunday morning’s activities.

Scotty Bower is making his first lap at the Obed. I was delighted to escort him on his first trip to the area. We had the place to ourselves for a good hour and a half before the mongrel hordes invaded.

Soon we were joined by Micah, Catherine and Mikayla. Scotty had to be back in Knoxville so we drifted on over to the North Clear area of the Obed. Here can be found some great traditional climbing lines along with little used pieces of sandstone.

That’s Micah putting up a trad line on a route named “Beer 30”.

Getting into North clear means negotiating an obstacle known as The squeeze ledge.

We are so blessed to have this amount of outdoor activity in our region. The Obed is world-class climbing.

I hope that everyone is enjoying this beautiful weather. Backpacking season is on.√