Date: 2009-05-29
From: Lost Mountain Shelter

To: Thomas Knob
Miles today: 13.0
Weather: light rain

Hypothermia in the Merry Month of MayIn the few days we were separated from The Phlo and Graveyard, they had talked to The Phlo's mom and she offered to come meet them the next morning at Grayson Highlands and hike with us for a bit. So we wanted to put in a big day and get to Thomas Knob, which was just short of the Highlands, so we could have a relatively short hike the next day.Stone Skipper left camp early that morning, and Dizzy and I left about a half an hour after her. The Phlo and Graveyard were taking their time and said they would catch up to us. About 20 minutes after getting on the trail I heard Dizzy say "Did you go the wrong way?" Just as I was turning to tell her I didn't think so, I realized she wasn't talking to me when I saw Skipper walking behind her, clearly frustrated and embarrassed at her mistake. Its an easy enough mistake to make, and something we've almost done a few times when leaving a shelter to get back on the trail.It was a beautiful hike that day, but a rough one for me as my ankle was still swollen and shot a pain up my leg with each step. Dizzy had wrapped my ankle in dict tape that morning, which helped a lot and gave it much needed support, but I still winced with every step.After we came down from Lost Mountain, the trail opened up into a beautiful rolling pasture on a mountain bald. It was very scenic and reminded me a lot of Max's Farm. There were turnstiles to enter and leave the pasture, narrow wooden structures wide enough for hikers to get through, but too narrow for the cows to escape. Following the pasture we began our long climb up mt. Rogers, which had been looming on the horizon for days. It was an arduous climb, with about 2 dozen switchbacks and a lot of rocks and boulders. Even Einstein struggled and fell back a bit behind me, which was unusual for him. It was hot and sunny, with few streams crossing the path, so we had to stop many times for water breaks.After several hours of climbing we finally approached the summit of Buzzard Rock, the ridge just before mt. Rogers. The trail opened up into a long bald at the top, revealing another half mile trek to the peak. But it was an amazing view up to the top with a large outcropping of boulders making the peak. Some time before I had stopped with Stone Skipper to take a break while Dizzy had kept going. so off in the distance I could see her sitting atop the boulders taking pictures of Einstein and I approaching. When I got there I was just stunned by the view, so much so that I forgot the pain in my ankle. Stone Skipper arrived a few minutes later and after taking some pictures and admiring the view we prepared to make some lunch. Off in the distance we could see some clouds moving in and could even make out some rain over the valley below and on some nearby peaks. We marvelled at the sight of the clouds and fog creeping through the gaps and up the mountains, and soon realized it was headed for us.Since Buzzard Rock was so exposed, Dizzy and i decided to pitch our tent so we would have a dry place to eat lunch. Before we could even finish, fog had completely enveloped the bald and we couldn't' see more than 10 feet in front of us. It felt like Brigadoon. I half expected to hear singing from a nearby hamlet awakening from a century of sleep.About this time, The Phlo and Graveyard emerged from the fog and we tried to describe the amazing view they had missed by only 20 minutes or so. As it began to rain, and the wind whipped up, we all moved inside the tent and had lunch. normally 5 people and a dog kn our tent would be tight and uncomfortable, but since the wind and fog brought with it a 20 degree drop in temperature the close quarters and body heat was most welcome.Eventually the rain stopped and the fog lifted enough for us to find the trail, so we packed u p the tent and set off. it wasn't long before The Phlo had both banged up his knee and turned his ankle. So the two of us hobbled in front of the pack with the rest in tow. Soon the fog cleared completely and we made our way down the mountain to Elk Garden, another wide open and scenic mountain bald full of grazing cattle. We paused for a bit and were just about to cross the road to enter the pasture when Dizzy noticed an ominous black cloud moving in fast from the West. We no sooner got our packs on when the sky opened up. Dizzy and I made a beeline across the road and through the pasture, with Einstein quick on our heels, while everyone else quickly huddled under the small overhang of a park sign back on the other side of the road.The rain just got heavier and the temperature kept dropping as we made our way over the Elk Garden pasture to the little cover the trees would provide. We still had several miles to go for the next shelter, so Dizzy and i decided we would pitch out tent the first spot we say. However the trail just kept switching back and forth in the bluffs of Mt. Rogers and there was no place to pitch a tent. We kept climbing on and on through the frigid rain. Eventually The Phlo, Graveyard and Skipper caught up. We paused briefly to discuss our options but quickly realised we had none and pressed on again. Eventually the rain began t let up, but the fog remained - or we had just risen far enough into the cloud to avoid the rain.As we passed the side trail to the peak of mt. Rogers ad made our way up Thomas Knob, Einstein let out a low growl and i saw some shapes moving in the mist. One by one, the members of a herd of ponies emerged from the fog to take shape and greet me. Although we knew to expect wild ponies at Grayson Highlands, I hadn't expected therm here or expected them to be so forward and unafraid. Einstein, The Phlo and I soon found ourselves surrounded by a herd of 20 or so ponies, including a few babies. They came right up and began licking the moisture off our arms and legs and nibbled at the loose straps on our packs. I really didn't have anything to feed them except for my trail mix which I wasn't sure they would like. They did, very much, and I found myself going through a half gallon zip lock of trail mix and became very popular with the ponies.Around this time, I realized I was not doing so well. I was so very cold that my hands had begun cramping up and I was having a rough keeping them flat enough to feed the ponies. So as the girls came up behind us, and got mobbed by the ponies as well, I passed off the rest of my trail mix so they could have a turn.Except for his initial growls, Einstein did remarkable well with the ponies and they with him. At one point a pony got nose to nose with him and neither seemed bothered by the other.Eventually we moved on because we had to avoid freezing. I could barely hold my trekking poles because my hands were cramping so badly from the cold. When we reached the Thomas Knob Shelter it was full and we had to walk another 1000 yards to find a place to camp. With almost no use of my hands, I was no help in pitching the tent or cooking diner. Both close to hypothermia, Einstein and I dove into the tent, I stripped myself and put on every dry stictch of clothing I had, and we quickly got onto the sleeping bag for the night.