PUPPY PARTY

 

 

A couple of weeks ago, I met up with Myron and Dorcas for our first hike together in months.  I decided to bring Boone along to get him some much needed exercise.  Meanwhile, Myron and Dorcas brought their new puppy, Matilda.  Matilda is a month or two older than Boone, but is only a little bigger.  We met at the Wal-Mart in Morganton, and the puppies spent a few minutes getting to know each other.  By getting to know each other, I mean they spent the entire time wrestling.  How in the world would we all survive the 80 minute drive to the trailhead in one car?

 

Fortunately, play time in the parking lot seemed to tire them out.  Dorcas kept Matilda in the front seat with her, while Boone snoozed in the back seat with me.  From Morganton, we drove to Asheville and picked up the Parkway towards Craggy Gardens.  My original plan for the day was a 9 mile round trip dayhike from the Craggy Gardens Visitors Center to Little Snowball Mountain.  However, in my initial planning, I’d overlooked the fact that the Parkway is currently closed about a mile before the Visitors Center.  Briefly we considered starting the hike on the Mountains to Sea Trail farther down the mountain.  Unfortunately, this part of the Parkway borders the Asheville watershed, and roadside parking is prohibited.  In the end, we wound up parking at the Craggy Gardens Picnic Area.  From there, the hike would only be 7 miles.  We all agreed that the change was probably for the best though, since neither dog had hiked more than 5 miles at a time previously.

 

It was windy and cold in the parking lot.  We used the bathrooms, organized our gear and the dogs, and hit the trail.  We followed the Mountains to Sea Trail westbound, descending from the picnic area back towards the Parkway.  Initially, I kept Boone on a leash, mainly because there is a road crossing about ½ mile into the hike.  Once past that point, I let him run free.  This was much more pleasant, as he actually behaved better off the leash.

 

The dogs spent a good part of the hike chasing each other in circles.  Every rest break was an opportunity for more wrestling.  Personally, I was content with simply putting one foot in front of the other.  At that point, I’d been suffering through a nasty cold for a full week.  In fact, I’d almost bailed out on the hike.  However, the promise of perfect weather and fall colors had convinced me to give it a shot.

 

From the MST, we turned off onto a side trail, occasionally blazed red or yellow, towards Snowball Mountain.  We passed over the wooded crest of Snowball Mountain, before descending to a rock outcropping featuring the first of several views.  We resumed the descent, before climbing again towards Hawkbill Rock.  More rock outcrops revealed even better views, and we stopped at one for lunch.  Eating was a challenge, as Boone kept trying to get at Matilda’s food.  Eventually I had to leash him to a tree to keep them separate.

 

The views and fall colors from here were quite nice.  The vista incorporated most of the Craggy Mountains, along with the southern-most Black Mountains and Mount Badonkadonk (aka Big Butt).  The fall foliage wasn’t as impressive as what I’d seen the prior weekend near Shining Rock, but it was still very pretty.

 

After lunch, we crested Hawkbill Rock and descended a wooded ridgeline.  There were some stout oak trees along here, but no further views.  At the next gap, we reached a pair of unmarked junctions that I recalled vaguely.  We had attempted this hike some 10 years earlier, without a decent map or much else in the way of useful information.  On that occasion, we had climbed the ridge out of the gap, before drifting off onto the south flank.  We had wandered quite a distance before realizing that we had taken the wrong fork.  At that time, daylight was dwindling and we had to head back.  Somehow, it had taken me 10 years to make another attempt on Little Snowball!

 

This time, we went straight at the first junction and right at the second.  We contoured around the right side of the ridge, following an old roadbed.  A bit later, I noticed a small metal door in the side of the mountain above the trail.  Curious, I went up to investigate.  I reached for the door, and Dorcas exclaimed, “don’t open it”!  I guess she was expecting a monster to jump out.  Well, it was less than two weeks to Halloween, so I guess I can’t blame her.

 

Inside was a spring.  The water was low enough that there wasn’t any escaping the enclosure.  I retrieved water for the dogs, and we pushed on towards the summit.  We arrived a few minutes later, and found a clearing and the site of a former fire tower.  The tower is gone, but there is still a fine view of the Craggy Mountains here.  We took a brief break for snacks and photos before heading back.

 

The return hike was uneventful.  On a few occasions, Boone got a little whiny – presumably due to fatigue.  He must not have been too tired though, because he still pulled the occasional impromptu attack on Matilda.

 

We made it back to the trailhead around 5 and began the long journey home.  It was good to hike with Myron and Dorcas again, and the puppies enjoyed playing with each other.  The next time we get together, Boone will probably the bigger dog, so it’ll be interesting to see how that goes. 

 

 

LAP DANCE

 

 

The next weekend, I met Eric and Mark in Boone for Appalachian State’s football game against our biggest rivals, Furman.  Christy was coaching at a cross country meet that day, so she didn’t come along to keep me in line.  I headed up early Saturday morning and stopped at Price Park to pitch the tent.  Although I was still battling a cold, I was hoping to get another good fall foliage hike in on Sunday.

 

Finding a campsite wasn’t difficult.  Rain and fog were just starting to clear out when I arrived, and the campground was deserted.  Although there were a lot of leaves down in the campground, I was surprised at how pretty the colors still were.

 

Eric, Mark, and I had a great time tailgating, and the game was satisfying as well.    Afterwards, Mark headed for home, but Eric decided to stay over.  That evening, instead of hanging out at the campground, we chose to have dinner out and watch the
World Series.  I was eager to see my Phillies play, since it had been 28 years since their last championship.

 

Boone doesn’t have a lot of options in the way of sports bars.  The first one we tried, Geno’s, had no tables available, and exactly one waitress on duty.   Geno’s has never been known for its great service, so we decided to move on.  We ended up at a place I’d never been, called The Library.  The good news is that The Library had decent food, ok tvs, and unusually attractive and attentive waitresses.  The bad news was that the baseball game was delayed because of rain.  It was after 10pm before it finally started, and we were already tired. 

 

Luckily there was a live band, which provided some entertainment.  Actually, the best entertainment was watching some of the drunk college students celebrating the victory over Furman.  Actually, I probably should’ve spent more time watching them.  Two drunk girls were trying to dance near us while I was engrossed in the baseball game.  One of them stumbled, but luckily my lap was there to break her fall!  She wriggled around in my lap a bit, before stumbling off to the bathroom.  I’d gone out hoping to get some food and watch a baseball game.  I hadn’t planned on getting a lap dance!

 

After that, Eric and I decided that maybe we were too old for this.  It was midnight, but the baseball game was only in the 4th inning.  The biggest problem was that the bar was extremely smoky, and that wasn’t helping my cold.  We bailed, and I missed out on the thrilling end to the game.

 

The next morning I paid the price.  I could barely talk, thanks to yelling too much at the football game and inhaling smoke all night.  I also discovered that the duffel bag with my hiking clothes was still in Mark’s car, which was now back in Raleigh.  Originally I had planned to hike in Linville Gorge, but I wasn’t about to try that in jeans and sneakers.  I was feeling awful anyway, so I decided to downgrade my hiking plans.  We broke camp, and Eric headed for home.  I made the short drive up the Parkway to Cone Park, where I planned to hike to Rich Mountain.  With my ambition rapidly waning, I picked the trailhead closest to the summit.  I estimated that this would give me a five mile hike.

 

My math may have been off, because I reached the summit in an hour.  There were some nice views along the way, but most of the fall colors were gone.  At the top, I had an early lunch, before hoofing it back down to the car.  On the way back, I encountered a small herd of cattle in the trail.  It wasn’t the most thrilling “wildlife” encounter of my hiking career, although the cows seemed highly agitated by my presence.

 

I worked in Raleigh last week, so I was able to retrieve my clothes from Mark.  Now I just need to shake this pesky cold so I can get back on the trail!




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