We thought we were ready to hike over five miles in elevation gain to summit the highest mountain east of the Mississippi River
- Where: Pisgah National Forest (Appalachian District)
- When: August 2017
- How many nights: 1
- Weather: Sunny and clear skies
- Nearest town: Burnsville, NC or Marion, NC
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Mentally Preparing for a Challenging Hike
Mount Mitchell’s summit observation tower is a place I have wanted to visit since 2007 when I would see the it’s exit road signs while driving the Blue Ridge Parkway. There are limited options for hiking to the summit which makes the planning process rather simple. Not simple, however, will be the effort required to hike from the Black Mountain Campground and gain over five miles in elevation until we reach the summit.
Amanda will be joining me for this adventure. This will be her second experience with camping in the backcountry and will be the first difficult mountain she has climbed. Her first overnight experience was —link to Grayson Highlands trip——– and climbing Mount Rogers. This will be more difficult than Rogers but I have studied many charts illustrating the elevation change and I feel we are mission capable.
Mount Mitchell is the highest mountain east of the Mississippi River at 6,684 feet. Second is Mount Craig at 6,647. Mitchell and Craig stand next to each other in a Blue Ridge sub-range known as the Black Mountains. The weather in the Blacks is, as with many mountain rangers, quite unpredictable. I have kept my eyes on the weather here for years, wanting to use my days off from work to drive south and explore. It seems that whenever I have a few days to make it happen, the weather forecast is calling for storms or heavy rain.
Temperatures are typically very high during early August in the southeastern United States. While it would be quite hot at lower elevations, the Black Mountains would offer relief. Or so I thought.
We departed after work from our small, 530 square foot apartment and drove just over seven hours to Marion, North Carolina. Staying in a hotel the night before a strenuous hike sounded like a better idea than getting to the trailhead with no sleep. A Hampton Inn is luxury compared to some nights on the trail.
Climbing 3,600 feet over Five and a Half Miles
In the morning we arrived at the Black Mountain Campground around 1000. Driving from the Hampton Inn hotel in Marion to the Black Mountain Campground is forty five minutes. There are several other cars in the parking lot and I am hoping we will be able to find a nice campsite once we reach Commissary Hill. Commissary Hill is the spot of choice for many overnighters that are hiking up Mitchell. There is plenty of flat, open area to set up your tent. Do you think that sounds ideal? It is, but it is not going to work out the way you think it will.
On my back will be my old North Face Terra 65 pack. Amanda will be using my Gorilla 40 from Gossamer Gear as it weights less than the Terra 65. Tonight we will stay in the Marmot Limelight 2p. We even brought a hammock along to relax off of the ground for a bit.
After walking around the Black Mountain Campground for a few minutes, we sling on our packs and begin to hike on the aptly named Mount Mitchell Trail. Permits are not required for the hike. Glancing back at the campground, we knew the next five miles would be the toughest we had ever walked but I felt reassured when thinking back to my preparation and the charts I had researched at home.
The trail immediately begins climbing and only briefly levels out around the 2.5 mile point. For all of the trails I have hiked over the years, you would think I would be better at judging elevation charts. I cannot quite recall why I thought the trail would not be so difficult, but it was now too late.
One mile in and we were feeling it. At no point in the near seven years of walking up hills had I experienced anything like this. This climb is relentless. The temperatures are just over 70-F but the sky is clear and sun bright. The weather is beautiful but enjoying this hike through the woods is going to be a struggle.
Commissary Hill is another three miles from our current position. I certainly feel the weight of my pack and although my legs are holding up so far, my calves are burning. This is the feeling of walking up hills and it is to be expected. The climb seems to be impacting Amanda more than me, but this is just her second big mountain and first strenuous up hill. Could it be that the feeling is foreign to her and she just thinks she is struggling more than she actually is? I cannot be sure but I know we both need a break.
At 2.5 miles we arrive to a level stretch that connects to another trail. We will continue on the Mount Mitchell Trail but it is a welcome change, albeit a short one. Before long the trail heads uphill once again. Just under two miles and we will be at Commissary Hill but it feels more like ten miles. The temperature is a little warmer than we expected and there is no breeze. A woman with a day pack, likely aged between sixty and sixty-five, passes us from behind. She is cruising and we step off to the side of the trail to allow her to pass. We are not moving quick.
A short time later we encounter the woman again. We discuss our plans for spending the night near Commissary Hill and she explains that she is trying to summit and return to the campground before dusk. She admits to us that she might not summit.
“It’s not about the miles or how quick you go. It’s about having fun!”
Honestly, I do not consider that enough. Often I am all about speed and crushing the miles. To hear these words from someone twice my age, someone that sped past me on a difficult trail, provides a bit of a realization.
Commissary Hill and the Invasion
When you arrive at Commissary Hill there is no mistaking it. Lots of flat, open, grassy space. There is one tent off to the far side of the area and, wanting to avoid setting up too close to them, we keep walking. Between 5,600 and 5,700 feet, the temps have cooled slightly but the sun is still able to shine its rays directly upon us. No clouds. No breeze.
The plan was to set up camp and then continue hiking the next mile and a half to the summit. However, neither of us had anticipated that the prior four miles would be so incredibly difficult on us. Any sites with great views off mountain seem to be non-existent. Not wanting to camp in an open field with someone else’s tent, we continue up trail and up hill for not more than fifty yards.
Loud shouts begin echoing our way from the open arears of the hill. The shouts are following by a parade of children with a handful of adults.
Boy Scouts.
Cautiously optimistic is how I would describe my initial feeling upon seeing the scouts. How in the hell did they get up here? There have to be, minimum, twenty or thirty children. They drop their packs in random spots and chase each other around. The adults, all men, discuss something with one another at the far end of the hill. Kids scream, jump, and chase one another.
Our quiet, enjoyable home for the night has descended into complete madness.
We now no longer have the choice of camping anywhere on the open grass of Commissary Hill. I find a semi-flat spot up-trail from the camping area and, defeated, we begin to empty our packs.
Of all the hills and mountains, in all of the mountain worlds, I wonder if, at this very moment, is there another couple experiencing a mountain take-over of boy scouts. Is it possible? Happy campers we are not, but its the outdoors and it’s open to all. Its difficult to take the high road when grown men are screaming as loud as they can at nearly thirty children, especially when the setting would normally be a quiet evening on the highest mountain in the east.
Regardless of how bummed we are, we need to make the best of the situation. We just hiked nearly five grueling miles and to have the day end this way would be depressing. Amanda relaxes in the tent while I set up the hammock, begin organizing the dinner supplies and begin cooking. In this context, Amanda relaxing actually means Amanda has passed out in the tent. While she lay in the tent I debate whether or not to continue hiking solo to the summit. Amanda assures me I am good to hike on without her, but I reason that I would feel too guilty accomplishing the highest mountain in the east while she lay back in the tent.
Dinner is ready before too long, a freeze-dried meal of sorts. Two mini, plastic bottles of chardonnay sit ready to be opened but we save them until there is almost no food remaining. Before the sun sets, I walk down a side trail to capture a few photos of the sunset. With dinner finished, we take what’s left of the wine and hop in the hammock. The mountain is now completely dark except for our friends below.
Below us the children have all strapped on headlights and are now chasing each other around the hill. While its possible, I doubt you have ever experienced what its like to hike five miles, gaining 3,000 feet of elevation, only to have your mountain oasis invaded by thirty children. Commissary Hill now looks like a scene from Star Wars. Headlamps and flashlights everywhere. Changing direction rapidly in the darkness.
Minutes of the light show have passed by and we each begin to laugh. Who would have thought?
Each mini of chardonnay has long been empty when the adult men begin screaming at the children to get in their tents. Amanda and I discuss the possibility that they likely do not even know we are here. Perched up-trail about fifty yards, we are likely difficult to notice. None of the children or adults have ventured over this way.
Most of them are in their tents now. Every now and then an adult screams into the night, accusing the children of trying to stay up past their determined lights-out time. Sun is long gone and the night sky is here. IBefore long the commotion ceases and its light-out for us as well.
Or so I thought. The night sky is as clear as it could be. Barely any light pollution. I decide to break out of the tent and wander down a side trail to where there is a wide open view of the sky. Any attempts to persuade Amanda to join to me are quickly denied. She is done for the day and there is no changing her mind. Alone, in the dark, I descend to Commissary and hang a right. Soon I am at a clearing with the best view of the milky way that I have ever seen in my life. I have only an iPhone with me and do my best to take a few photos of the sight above.
Returning to the tent, I carefully unzip the vestibule and door. Amanda is sound asleep. Gently, I sit down on my sleeping pad and close the door. Lights out.
Decision Time and Accepting Reality
Morning comes and I quickly begin preparing to make breakfast. The children are already awake and making as much of a commotion as you would imagine. Breakfast is the standard instant mashed potatoes with hot chocolate and protein bars.
Discussion regarding the possibility of summiting this morning is ongoing. Although after breakfast we have decided that its not in the cards. Amanda is adamant that she is not hiking on more foot uphill. No argument here. As much as I would love to continue the next mile and a half, I cannot deny the fact that I am exhausted and I likely would not be able to summit and also go downhill back to the car.
The decision is made. We will not be summitting and will be hiking back to the car once camp is torn down. Our friends, the Mount Mitchell Boy Scouts, have just finished packing up and are already beginning to depart. On days like these, following days like those, camp gets torn down rather quickly and easily.
This will be an odd hike back to the car. Mount Mitchell is the first mountain to defeat me and I am already taking it personally. Packs on, we start descending from 5,800 feet.
Several days ago it had rained and there is still a lot of run off in areas. Every now and then dry trail will be replaced by ten yards of flooded trail. One of these stretches of wet trail is particularly long and we have to jump from rock to rock to keep our feet dry. A long grey snake, likely about three and half feet long, is coiled up on one of these rocks and I call it out a split second before Amanda takes a step towards it.
The next three miles pass by quicker than you would imagine. I do not do so well on downhills. My left knee usually begins to hurt and I have to rely on my trekking poles more than the average hiker.
During the descent, I think back to yesterday and the woman that had passed us. Recalling what she said, I vow to not speed through any future hikes. Yes, we are all capable of going as fast as we can. Maybe if it is a repeat-hike for me, but if it is my first time on a particular mountain why should I rush? A band once sang, I rush and rush until life’s no fun.
Today progresses much quicker than yesterday. Soon, quite unbelievably, we are back at Black Mountain Campground and the car. Typically I would label this a successful failure, however we truly did not accomplish anything noteworthy. We simply walked up an extremely difficult hill.
Final Thoughts
Challenges throughout our lives will sometimes defeat us but often define us.
Hiking Mount Mitchell was never something I thought I would fail. There is a lesson here, however. You can prepare and study for any test, but its always possible that will not succeed. Although there is a reward! You now know the difficulty level and can prepare for a second attempt.
Whether or not you use that opportunity is entirely up to you.
For us, after failing Mount Mitchell we decided to drive directly home. There were no brewery or vineyard visits, no celebratory meals, no singing along to the radio.
Not only will I someday return and conquer Mount Mitchell, but so will Amanda and I.
Our challenges in life show us who we are and who we can become. We will not be people who cannot hike to Mount Mitchell from the Black Mountain Campground. Challenge accepted.
To be continued.