WHAT I MEANT TO SAY WAS…

Have you ever heard words come out of your own mouth that weren’t exactly what you had planned to say? It happens to me all of the time. I’m not sure what the problem is – apparently there is some sort of disconnect between by brain and my mouth. This is probably why I like writing - unlike speaking, it affords the opportunity for proofreading. So where am I going with this? It happened again last Saturday, while hiking with some friends near Roan Mountain.

The old hiking gang got together again last weekend, for the second time in three weeks. I was looking to get in one last good hike before our trip to Alaska, and everyone else was free. Plus, we didn’t want to miss the peak of the Rhododendron bloom. With that in mind, we decided to hike in the Roan Mountain area. Initially I thought about doing the entire stretch of the Appalachian Trail from Carvers Gap to highway 19E. That’s a 14 mile hike though, and I knew some of the folks in our group wouldn’t want to do that much. Plus, it was Rhododendron Festival weekend, meaning that the Carver’s Gap parking area would be a carnival. Instead, we decided to start our hike at the Roaring Fork trailhead, where we wouldn’t have to fight for a parking spot.

I met Myron and Dorcas in Morganton and rode with them from there. Somehow we made it to the trailhead in one piece, despite the fact that Boone and Matilda wrestled in the back seat most of the way there. We met Bob, Laura, and Joel at the parking lot, which was otherwise empty. We spent a few minutes getting organized, which was challenging as the wind was absolutely howling through the valley. This raised an important question – if it was that windy down there, what would it be like up on the balds?

There are two routes from the parking area to the Appalachian Trail. One follows a gated, gravel road, while the other is on a trail. The distance and difficulty are about the same, so we chose to start out on the trail. Even the trail is a remnant of an old farm road, but there isn’t a lot left of it. In fact, it was a bit overgrown. Fortunately, we were at an elevation that was high enough to be tick-free.

Once on the trail, Boone and Matilda immediately resumed their horseplay. They chased each other up and down the trail, without any regard for the human beings that were in the way. A bit later they did take a break in favor of chasing a deer. Fortunately both returned after only a couple of minutes.

We followed a stream for a bit, before leaving it to trace the edge of a grassy field. We found our first wildflowers along here, as there were quite a few blooms in the meadow. Along with the usual daisies, there was a huge tangle of Fire Pink. It was probably the most Fire Pink I’ve ever seen in one spot.

From there we climbed a little farther before passing through a jungle of head-high wildflowers. Moments later we reached the AT and joined the masses. Over the next few miles, we passed more people than I’ve ever seen on this stretch of trail. We saw large groups of dayhikers, solo backpackers, and everything in between. Although it seemed busy, it was nothing compared to the throngs up on the balds. It seemed as if everyone in the southeast was up there. In fact, the only person we didn’t see on the Appalachian Trail was the Governor of South Carolina. Apparently he was a bit south of our exact location.

The hike over to the Low Gap Shelter offered a couple of pleasant surprises. First, we discovered that the trail had been re-routed, eliminating some annoying, steep PUDS (pointless ups and downs). The re-route was also shorter, which helped us make pretty good time. The biggest surprise though came on a hillside near the shelter. As I was hiking, I was startled to find a handful of Gray’s Lilies blooming along the trail. Gray’s Lilies are some of the most beautiful wildflowers around, and they are very rare. In fact, they are either threatened or endangered, depending on your source of information. I personally hadn’t seen one in at least 10 or 12 years. I knew they grew in the Roan Mountain area, but I wasn’t expecting to find any in bloom this early in the summer.

I took some photos and caught up to everyone else at the Low Gap Shelter. From there, we tackled the biggest climb of the day. Most of this stretch of trail has been re-routed also. Now, instead of following a steep, eroded ditch, the trail contours along the hillside utilizing switchbacks. This stretch of trail is a bit longer than the original route, but it’s a much more pleasant, gentle hike.

We passed Bong Rock (so named because we once found a ziplock bag of pot, a bong, and a sign that simply said “enjoy” there). From that point, it was just a short hike to the balds. Before breaking out into the open, we crossed a couple of small streams, where we watered the dogs. Moments later, we strolled out of the forest and into a cloud.

Sunny, clear weather is unusual at Roan Mountain, and today was no exception. We were stuck in a cloud, and the view was limited to our immediate surroundings. Despite this, we stopped at a large, flat rock for lunch. As we ate, the fog began to lift. Before long, we could see the slopes of Grassy Ridge, which had turned pink from the blooming Rhododendron.

During lunch, Joel started telling a familiar story. Years ago, when he was young, he had hiked up from Carvers Gap bound for Grassy Ridge. Grassy Ridge was privately owned in those days though. When he reached the junction with the trail to the summit, he found it blocked by an old, crusty, bearded mountain man in a lounge chair. The mountain man was cradling a shotgun in his lap. Joel requested permission to pass, but was denied.

It just so happens that Joel was followed from Carver’s Gap by a reporter and photographer with the Asheville Citizen-Times. Coincidence? I have my doubts. The reporter took Joel’s photo, with the shotgun toting mountain man in the background. Joel concluded his story by mentioning that the photo had been published in the paper the next day.

I’d heard this story several times before, and felt that the ending was missing something. So, when Joel finished, I added my bit. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out quite right.

“Joel”, I said, “How did the caption read? ‘Yosemite Sam holds up Porky Pig’?”

Ouch. That wasn’t what I meant to say at all. I like to tease Joel a little from time to time, but Porky Pig? That was just mean.

What’s funny is that my brain knew something was wrong as I was speaking. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn’t hold it back. It was like a bad case of verbal diarrhea.

Poor Bob was sitting nearby. I’ve known Bob for almost 15 years, and I’ve never heard him say anything at another person’s expense. My remark must’ve caught him off-guard though, because I saw him expel a small chunk of peanut butter sandwich through his nose.

Later that night, I confessed my remark to my wife during dinner. When I told her what I said, she responded with, “wow, honey, that was mean”. She then took a swig of beer, which she promptly snorted out through her nose. You see, it wasn’t until a few moments later that she got an actual visual of Yosemite Sam mugging Porky Pig. Once that image registered in her brain, she lost it.

I think one of the finest compliments for any joke is the resulting expulsion of food or beverage out the nose. To get two such reactions from the same joke in one day is a little satisfying.

I felt bad though. Sadly, what I said wasn’t what I had intended to say. That was completely different.

What I meant to say was, “Joel, how did the caption read? ‘Yosemite Sam holds up Elmer Fudd’?”

See, isn’t that much better? What we really have here is a case of mixed up cartoon characters. Joel may be a little heavy, but he doesn’t look like Porky Pig. Elmer Fudd, on the other hand, could be his twin brother. If you’ve ever seen Joel in the winter, when he’s wearing his hunter’s hat with the floppy ear flaps, you know what I mean. If you shaved Joel’s moustache you’d see the spittin’ image of Elmer Fudd.

Lucky for me, Joel’s a good guy, and he took it well. I did apologize to him later.

After lunch we had a decision to make. I wanted to go out to Jane Bald to see the Flame Azaleas, and I wanted to hike up to Grassy Ridge for the Rhododendron. What should we do first?

My initial thought was Jane Bald, but I changed my mind. It was a cloudy day, and it looked like the weather could turn violent at any moment. We figured we’d better get up to Grassy Ridge while we could.

We hiked up the eroded path through thickets of blooming Rhododendron. There was so much traffic along here it was difficult to make progress, but we gradually made headway. Somewhere along here the wind returned, howling across the balds as the clouds gradually lifted. It was warm enough that the wind was actually refreshing, and it was wild seeing the tall grass bend under the force of the wind.

I did a lot of experimenting with my camera along here, and quickly fell behind the rest of the group. By the time I joined them at the summit, they were ready to head down. The wind was still howling, and conversation was impossible. I told them I would catch up, but first I wanted to see what the far end of the ridge looked like. I knew there was a gap and then another summit, and thought I might find more blooms in that area.

I crested the peak and was stunned to see a pink mountain ahead of me. The brightest, most profuse Rhododendron blooms completely covered the hillside. The blooms we’d seen earlier had been nice, but this was the mother-lode. Meanwhile, the clouds had cleared enough to allow some views. I could now make out Big Yellow, Little Hump, and Big Hump, and Grandfather Mountain loomed through the haze. In the opposite direction I could clearly see the Black Mountains. A few minutes later I received one more treat, as a patch of blue sky parked itself directly overhead. This was a pleasant surprise, even if it only lasted a couple of minutes.

I hurried back down the trail and found everyone else waiting at our lunch spot for me. Most of them were ready to head back, and we needed to give Joel a head start. So, Bob joined me for a short jaunt towards Jane Bald.

We only had to walk a few minutes before we reached the first clumps of Flame Azalea. In just a small area, we found orange, yellow, and red Azaleas. We took a few photos there before heading back.

Bob got a head start on me, and I hustled after him. By the time I reached Bong Rock, thunder was beginning to rumble all around me. I galloped down the switchbacks, hoping to make it back to the car before the storm hit. This one passed me by though, and the thunder began to fade. I passed Joel shortly after the Low Gap Shelter, and caught up with everyone else at Yellow Mountain Gap. From there we continued on down the gated road, passing the barn shelter along the way. Minutes later, the thunder resumed, and we picked up the pace. We had just reached the cars when the storm finally broke. We all piled in except Joel, who was still a ways behind. Unfortunately for him, he had to finish the hike in a massive downpour.

The hike from Roaring Fork to Grassy Ridge is one of my all-time favorites, so I’ll definitely be back. In the future though, I’ll try to keep my mouth on a shorter leash!

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