Up about our usual time we pulled out of the national forest, headed for McDonalds for a cup of coffee, planned on an arrival at our next stop, campground and trailhead to Virginia's high point by noon.
Partly cloudy skies meant good news. But when would the storm we outran collide with us again? The Virginia high point?
When we arrived at the Grayson State Park the car clock showed 12:00. We checked out the campground, decided to hike first, then set camp. A cloudy sky with strong gusting wind kept us cool as we hiked along the AT (Appalachian Trail) for most of our distance to Virginia's high point.
We picked our way along uneven trail, around large rocks and patches of mud, up man-made steps.
"This is what I hate about the AT," Dr. Bobo said.
"Keep your head down," I said.
"You can't look at the scenery or you'll trip."
We stripped to t-shirts to avoid major perspiration from the exertion uphill, kept a fast pace, but the gusting wind chilled exposed skin.
The summit of Mt. Rogers at 5,729 feet, covered with trees, provided some windbreak. We hunted for a survey marker, found two. Both markers concurred which of the two rock outcrops as the official highpoint, but we stood on both outcrops for photos. A quick lunch and we headed down.
After a shower, not warm enough to take the chill away, we set up camp, ate our gruel of canned-chili and instant rice, with spicy peppers. Our chosen campsite proved ideal, easy access to restroom, leave gravel pad for the tent, a fire pit.
Tall, thin trees, with only small buds to suggest the coming bloom of spring at that mountain elevation, swayed in the strong wind while we sat in the car for more warmth. The sky remained overcast.
I pictured childhood scenes in Kentucky. "This is like winter," I said to Dr. Bobo.
The campground attendant approached us in a glorified golf cart. "Is it okay to build a fire in the pit in these high winds?" I asked the guy.
"Yeah, no problem. You can burn anything on the ground," he said.
"Lets build a fire," I suggested to Dr. Bobo.
"Fire," Primate said. "Warm."
We sat on our lawn chairs, warmed by a fire, drank toasts to another high point until well after dark. Distant lights from farmhouses reminded me of fireflies, but without an off switch. Bedtime arrived when most of our collected branches turned to embers.
We traveled 207 miles.
Low points - nine; high points - three.
 |
| VA Mountains |
Partly cloudy skies meant good news. But when would the storm we outran collide with us again? The Virginia high point?
When we arrived at the Grayson State Park the car clock showed 12:00. We checked out the campground, decided to hike first, then set camp. A cloudy sky with strong gusting wind kept us cool as we hiked along the AT (Appalachian Trail) for most of our distance to Virginia's high point.
We picked our way along uneven trail, around large rocks and patches of mud, up man-made steps.
"This is what I hate about the AT," Dr. Bobo said.
"Keep your head down," I said.
"You can't look at the scenery or you'll trip."
We stripped to t-shirts to avoid major perspiration from the exertion uphill, kept a fast pace, but the gusting wind chilled exposed skin.
The summit of Mt. Rogers at 5,729 feet, covered with trees, provided some windbreak. We hunted for a survey marker, found two. Both markers concurred which of the two rock outcrops as the official highpoint, but we stood on both outcrops for photos. A quick lunch and we headed down.
 |
| Primate Sits on Mt. Rogers. |
After a shower, not warm enough to take the chill away, we set up camp, ate our gruel of canned-chili and instant rice, with spicy peppers. Our chosen campsite proved ideal, easy access to restroom, leave gravel pad for the tent, a fire pit.
Tall, thin trees, with only small buds to suggest the coming bloom of spring at that mountain elevation, swayed in the strong wind while we sat in the car for more warmth. The sky remained overcast.
I pictured childhood scenes in Kentucky. "This is like winter," I said to Dr. Bobo.
The campground attendant approached us in a glorified golf cart. "Is it okay to build a fire in the pit in these high winds?" I asked the guy.
"Yeah, no problem. You can burn anything on the ground," he said.
"Lets build a fire," I suggested to Dr. Bobo.
"Fire," Primate said. "Warm."
We sat on our lawn chairs, warmed by a fire, drank toasts to another high point until well after dark. Distant lights from farmhouses reminded me of fireflies, but without an off switch. Bedtime arrived when most of our collected branches turned to embers.
We traveled 207 miles.
Low points - nine; high points - three.
Test worked. Creature happy. Finally a fire, creature smiles in distant memory recall from adventure past. Then creature remembers he not on trip with smart people. Ohhhhhh... to be camping under a rainy sky with only the pull of tomorrow's hike and drive to the next goal to occupy the day. Tell me, has the south been as good as last years north or worse? Creature sighs.....
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