I'm about to start a new job, but I had a final opportunity to take an extended hike last week. It was a spontaneous trip, as I made the decision to go on Monday but left Tuesday morning. I decided to go to the Smokies and explore a portion of the park that I'd never seen before. Believe it or not, I was able to secure campsite reservations on a day's notice.

I planned a loop route from Elkmont. I'd hike up the Little River and Goshen Prong to the AT. Then I'd follow the crest of the Smokies west to Spence Field. I'd return by way of Tremont, hiking the Bote Mountain, West Prong, Lumber Ridge, and Meigs Mountain Trails. It was an ambitious plan, as I'd be covering 44 miles over 4 days, and climbing a total of more than 10,000'. It's a long drive from Charlotte to Elkmont, and I had hiked only short portions of this route previously. I was looking forward to exploring some new territory in my final fling before rejoining the working world.

CALLING ELVIS

I got up early on Tuesday and enjoyed an easy drive all the way to Cherokee. Following 441 through the park was tedious though. It was a weekday in September, but there were still lots of tourists around. The parking area at Newfound Gap was full. The huge lot at the Alum Cave Bluffs Trailhead was overflowing, and the Chimneytops Trailhead was even worse. The parking area for Laurel Falls looked like a used-car dealership. By the time I reached the Elkmont Campground I was afraid that I'd be dodging people all week.

I picked up my permit at the ranger station at the entrance to the campground. I drove up to the Little River Trailhead and found that parking lot full as well. I continued up the road another mile or so and parked among a handful of cars at the Jake's Creek Trailhead.

I got on the trail a little after 11 and headed up a gated gravel road. It wasn't long before I reached the Cucumber Gap Trail. I followed the footpath through mixed hardwoods and up a gradual hill that served as a nice warm-up.

I crested the ridge and began a rapid descent. On the way down I passed a handful of dayhikers. I'm pleased to report that Elvis Presley was among them. I hadn't realized that Elvis is an outdoor lover, but it was definitely The King. The sideburns gave him away. That and the clothes. I hadn't noticed a pink Cadillac at the trailhead, but I wasn't really looking. At first I was surprised, but I shouldn't have been. After all, I was only a few miles from Gatlinburg, Pigeon Forge, and Dollywood. Where better for The King to blend in?

I reached the Little River and continued upstream on an old roadbed. The river was low but pretty. I spotted a jumble of boulders below the trail, and worked my way down the bank to reach them for lunch. Getting there worked out fine, but my problems started afterwards, when I tried to return to the trail. I was climbing up the bank to the trail when I felt fire on my ankles. I looked down to discover that I was standing in a yellow jackets nest. The little devils were all over me. I attempted to run, but that proved to be difficult under a full pack. Finally I stopped and attempted to defend myself. I killed several of the bastards, but the damage was done. I had at least a half dozen stings on my legs, plus a bonus sting on my neck.

Wandering into a yellow jackets nest is an annual event for me. However, I'd never done it on the first day of a 4-day solo backpacking trip. My legs were on fire, and my ankles were swelling up like Barry Bond's ego. I was beginning to feel sick. I seriously contemplated turning around. Maybe I could catch up with Elvis.

Just before leaving the house that morning I'd grabbed a tube of Benadryl cream. Ultimately, that little tube convinced me to stay. I knew that it would help alleviate the misery to come. I limped on up the trail, reasoning that I'd go at least as far as my campsite. If the stings got worse, I could also head out in the morning.

I passed a single fisherman and hiked on into quiet forest. I reached the Goshen Prong Trail, and prepared for the imminent river ford that my guidebook promised. I was surprised to find a brand new bridge spanning the river. And I thought the park service didn't have any budget for that sort of thing!

I continued upstream passing numerous cascades and swimming holes. I was tempted to have a dip, but it really wasn't that warm. It was 70 degrees and sunny, which makes for perfect hiking weather. That's a bit cool for swimming though, so I continued on to camp.

I reached campsite 23 after rock hopping a stream. It is a decent site, with plenty of room for multiple parties. I was relieved to find the campsite deserted; though a campfire was still smoldering and someone had thoughtfully left their trash on the bear cable. I put the fire out and searched out the most desirable campsite. I had decided on one spot before I stumbled across a large pile of bear scat right in the middle of the campsite. All of the sites that I was staying at were under a bear warning, so I knew I needed to be cautious. I opted to set up camp at the far opposite end of the area. This spot was hidden out of sight, and I ended up liking it better anyway.

I reached camp at mid-afternoon, so I had plenty of time to relax and slather on the Benadryl cream. I contemplated a campfire, but ultimately I was too lazy to gather the wood. Instead I relaxed with a good book. It cooled off quickly that evening, and I acquired quite a chill before dinner. Chili and rolls helped warm me up though, and I went to bed shortly after dark. I had a 12-mile hike with more than 3000' of climbing the next day, so I knew I'd need an early start.

PARTY AT DERRICK'S KNOB

It sprinkled a little that night, but I hardly noticed thanks to the Benadryl I took at bedtime. It was foggy when I woke, but the sun was out when I broke camp shortly after 8AM. I continued up the trail, but I felt lousy. My legs were swollen, achy, and itching like crazy. I was also nauseous, which I attributed to the venom from the stings. Still, I never really gave any further thought to turning around.

I climbed gently for an hour and reached an interesting cave. It was only a small fissure, but it went back into the mountain a good 20' before ending. It was large enough to enter, so I put on my headlamp and went in. Even with the flashlight it was getting quite dark when I began to wonder about the wisdom of what I was doing. I remembered the bear warnings. This cave looked like an ideal place for a bear to hole up. Then I shrugged and continued. If there was a bear in the cave, I'd know it by now.

The cave was empty. It was fun to explore, and gave me a great excuse to take a break. Eventually I had to return to my pack and resume the climb though. After the cave the climb got tough. It seemed to go on forever, but spruce and fir trees indicated that I was nearing the top. Finally I reached the AT on the crest of the Smokies. I wandered through a lovely Balsam Forest before descending to the Double Spring Gap Shelter. I took another long break here. I filled up on water and read the shelter journal. I was dismayed to discover that there was a group ahead of me, heading towards my evening's destination, Derrick's Knob. I hadn't seen anyone since lunchtime the prior day. I'd been hoping to have the shelter to myself, but now I knew that I was going to have some company.

I left the shelter and the spruce fir forest behind. I hiked through Beech woods and across of section of the trail called The Narrows. I had hiked here on my first solo Smokies Backpack last fall. That day had been foggy and rainy, and I'd vowed to return on a nicer day to hike it again. Today was a nicer day. In fact, it was perfect again. It was sunny, with temperatures in the 70's. However, the dense vegetation offered only a few limited views until I climbed to the top of Siler's Bald. The small meadow on the summit offered a nice view back to the east to Clingman's Dome, the highest peak in the park. On the west side of the mountain I found another fine meadow with a pleasant view to the south and west. I stopped for a long lunch here. I enjoyed the sunshine and took advantage of the opportunity to dry the tent.

I was finishing lunch when 3 backpackers passed by, heading east. My 24 hours of solitude were over, or so it seemed. I continued west, passing the Siler's Bald Shelter. The next 6 miles of trail followed the ridge through a seemingly infinite Beech forest. There were lots of ups and downs, though it was mostly down heading west. This was fortunate for me, as I was pretty much exhausted. Finally I crested the last hill, and the Derrick's Knob Shelter loomed ahead.

I knew I'd have company, but I was shocked at what I found. The shelter looked full, and there were several tents pitched in the woods nearby. Where had all of these people come from? In 2 days I'd seen 3 backpackers, a fisherman, and a handful of dayhikers, including Elvis. Most of those people had been within a couple of miles of the trailhead. Derrick's Knob is one of the most remote campsites in the park. It's an 8-mile hike from the nearest road. It's just about the last place I'd expect a crowd.

There were 15 other people at the shelter. It turns out that most of them were hiking the length of the AT through the park. The nearest shelters on either side of Derrick's Knob are 6 miles away, so nearly everyone stops there. There were some interesting people among the crowd. There were 2 college kids from Ohio that were terrified that Hurricane Isabel would blow them off the mountain the next day. Then there were 4 middle-aged guys from Kansas City. We had an interesting conversation. One of them visits the Westinghouse Factory in Charlotte on business from time to time. That plant is only a few miles from my house. I mentioned that we had driven through Kansas City on our way to Colorado back in July. I told about how we'd gotten lost in downtown, after I-70 had suddenly disappeared. They agreed that this was a common problem, even for people that live in the area.

I'd always wondered where hikers in the midwest went for recreation. It turns out that they drive 14 hours to get to the Appalachians. They said that they used to go to Colorado (14 hours in the opposite direction), but were getting too old to deal with the altitude. In recent years they had taken to hiking a stretch of the AT for a week every September. The previous year they'd spent a miserable week in the Ozarks of Arkansas. It sounded like they weren't in any hurry to go back there.

The strangest pair at the shelter was a father and son from North Georgia. The farther entertained us all evening, alternating between stories about early settlers in the Smokies and spouting off about various political conspiracies. This was all very entertaining, but I quickly found myself in a conversation I couldn't extract myself from. This reminded me of another hiking buddy of mine. In fact, those two share many of the same political conspiracies. If he had been there, I'm sure they would've talked into the wee hours of the night. As it was, I had to fake an urgent bathroom trip to get away. Afterwards, I slunk into the shelter to keep myself from getting drawn back into another black hole conversation.

I went to sleep that night as Mars appeared over the horizon. We had gone looking for Mars a few weeks earlier, but the overwhelming lights of Charlotte had ruined the moment. The darkness of the Smokies provided a great view of the red planet though. I settled into a spot on the top bunk. Benadryl helped me sleep, despite considerable snoring and a mouse that ran across my arm just as I was beginning to drift away.

THUNDERHEAD

I was one of the first ones out Thursday morning. I left the shelter around 8 and continued west along the crest. I was anticipating another tough hike. I had 13 miles ahead of me, with some serious climbing to get over Thunderhead Mountain. After Thunderhead, the hike would be mostly downhill as I plunged all the way down to 1600' to camp on the West Prong of the Middle River.

I hiked through more woods full of shrubs blooming with white flowers. At one point I was treated to a nice view of Fontana Lake covered in fog. I finished the hardest climb, over Briar Knob, without hardly noticing it. I was feeling much better. The nausea was gone, and the bee stings were only an itchy nuisance. I started the final climb up Thunderhead, and knew I was getting close to the summit when I entered a rhododendron tunnel. The top of Thunderhead is a heath bald, which means that it is covered with just enough shrubs to prevent a view. That was ok though, because the views were spectacular on Rocky Top just to the west. The first rock outcrop provided a great view east and south. I didn't linger long though, because I knew the best view was yet to come. I reached another cliff at the west end of Rocky Top, and it is a jaw dropper. In fact, it might be the best vista in the park.

I had been here once before. It had been a trip from Cades Cove in July. We had taken a side trip from Spence Field up to Rocky Top, but it had been a disappointment. The infamous haze had been unbearable that day, to the extent that you couldn't see the next hill over. The haze was gone now though, and the day was crystal clear. The view east to the Balsam Mountains was great, but the Nantahala Mountains to the south were equally impressive. To the southwest was a fine look down Eagle Creek to Fontana Lake and the Stecoah Mountains beyond. Farther west were the Snowbirds and the mountains of the Joyce Kilmer Wilderness. Due west along the Smokies crest was Gregory Bald. Farther north were the open fields of Cades Cove.

I spent 90 minutes on Rocky Top, enjoying an early lunch as well as the view. My friends from Kansas City and North Georgia eventually caught up, and they were equally impressed. Finally I had to move on as morning slipped into afternoon. I descended, and hiked through more pretty meadows at Spence Field. Blooming Goldenrod had turned the fields yellow. After a short side trip to the shelter for water I left the beaten track. I headed down the Bote Mountain Trail towards Tremont.

This trail is really an old, rocky roadbed. Descending it was difficult, thanks to the bad footing. My feet were exhausted long before I reached the trail down to the West Prong of the Little River. The hiking was hot, tedious and rather boring, though a few limited views over to Defeat Ridge did add some beauty to the proceedings. The creepy crawlies really came out on this trail, too. We see Millipedes on almost every hike, but I'd only seen one Centipede in my life. I spotted one crossing the trail as I headed down the mountain. Then I saw a tiny little frog the size of my thumb. Five minutes later I saw another Centipede. This was followed by another tiny frog, and then for good measure, yet another Centipede. What was going on around here? I'd already seen two Salamanders earlier, and two non-poisonous snakes along Goshen Prong. I could only hope that I'd see some wildlife that doesn't crawl or slither along the ground at some point on this hike.

I nearly wept with relief when I reached the West Prong Trail. My feet were killing me. I descended to the river, and found a series of campsites on both sides of the bridge. The West Prong is a pretty stream, and once again there was no one around. I selected a nice campsite on the bank of the river and finished my evening chores. It was a long hike, so I didn't arrive until after 5pm. After dinner I hung my food bag (which consisted mainly of trash at this point), as I hadn't had any luck finding the bear cables.

I enjoyed my book well into the evening before taking it with me into the tent. At one point I heard a stick snap outside the tent. Awareness of the bear warnings came back immediately. I scanned the area with my flashlight, but I didn't see anything. At that point I realized that reading a scary book by flashlight while camping solo is perhaps not the best idea. I was pretty spooked, so I did the only logical thing I could do. I took another Benadryl and went to bed.

TURN THE PAGE

I was up early once again on Friday. I retrieved my food bag, which made it through the night unmolested. I began my 12 mile hike out before 8AM. I needed another early start, since I had a long hike followed by an even longer drive ahead of me. I knew it wouldn't be an easy hike either. I was camped at 1600', but the trailhead was at 2800'. Shouldn't the last day be downhill? Who planned this hike, anyway? Studying the map showed that I had a couple of fair climbs ahead of me. The first would take me over a ridge before I descended to Tremont. Then I faced a larger climb up Lumber Ridge. Afterwards, hiking along Meigs Mountain looked pretty easy.

I left camp and immediately spotted the bear cable on the far side of the river. The first climb was pretty easy, and it wasn't long before I was descending the far side. I reached the paved road at Tremont and the trail ended. I followed my instincts and walked along the road that leads into Tremont. I've never been sure exactly what Tremont consists of, but it includes a visitor's center and some sort of lodge. This was rather disorienting, as I hadn't seen anyone since noon the previous day. I followed signs for the Lumber Ridge Trail past the lodge and encountered a whole field of kids playing. I hurried on but passed an adult that must've been some sort of chaperone. He asked where I was headed, and seemed genuinely impressed that I was hiking all the way to Elkmont, 10 miles distant. I decided not to tell him that I'd hike more than 30 miles already.

The Lumber Ridge was a long, steady climb. It was getting warm at such a low altitude, so I was glad I had gotten an early start. Finally I reached the top of Lumber Ridge and hiked on towards Meigs Mountain. This part of the hike was flat and easy, but my feet were still killing me. I took a long break at Blanket Creek and waded around barefoot in the chilly water. This helped a bit, and I was ready to finish the hike out.

Meigs Mountain was a fairly interesting hike. For the most part I hiked through hardwood forest. The Poplar trees were impressive, and one section of woods was choked with vines, giving it the appearance of a jungle. I passed some reminders of past civilization, including some old home foundations and a 100-year old cemetery. The graveyard featured mainly fieldstones, but there were two markers that were readable. One was for a middle-aged woman that had died almost 100 years ago. The other was for an unnamed infant.

I saw another snake, and another centipede along Meigs Mountain. I also spotted some larger wildlife. I spooked some grouse, as well as a pair of deer. Then I spotted a third deer near the trailhead. No bears appeared, although I'd seen bear scat frequently throughout the hike. The animals did provide an enjoyable ending to another Smoky Mountain adventure.

I reached the car by mid-afternoon, and it was an overwhelming pleasure to take my boots off. There was no pink Cadillac to be seen. I headed for home, and reflected on the past year. Loosing my job 10 months earlier had seemed like a tragedy at the time. Ultimately though, things had worked out for the best. I had gotten the opportunity to travel and hike. I had enjoyed canoeing in Minnesota, Florida, and the Outer Banks. I had explored large sections of the Smokies and Nantahala Mountains on four solo backpacking trips. I had enjoyed another Smoky Mountain backpacking trip with a friend, and I had spent 5 weeks with Christy hiking and backpacking in Colorado and Wyoming. I certainly never would have had those opportunities if I'd still had my old job. Now I'm getting ready to shift gears and start a new job. I'm looking forward to it, even if it means having to relegate the hiking boots to weekend duty -for awhile at least.

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