Date: 2013-05-02
From: Dennis Cove Rd., Black Bear Resort

To: Stealth Camp about Watauga Lake
Miles today: 13.5

Oh boy did I sleep well last night! It was hot, and I sweated through my sleeping bag again. I had to take it outside and air it out when I finally got up. The temperatures are so fickle that I don't dare send it home. Beerdra and Cabo caught an early shuttle out to the trail, and I considered rushing to go with them, but ultimately I held back and did my normal procrastination routine. Also, I had some emails to send off; regular life needed tending to. The owner came back and said that she could give me a lift to the trail head when I was ready. I visited with her a bit, and I helped her rehang a sign for the Black Bear Resort. I hope to bring Tom back here some day. I couldn't believe how beautiful the trail was. The path was smooth. It followed the cascading Laurel River. Each turn was more picturesque than the previous. I passed a couple of guys carrying fishing poles. I walked through several huge rock chasms, the bottom scattered with washing machine-sized boulders. The passages must have been carved or blasted out. It almost felt like a trap or ambush. I could hear the water roaring and knew there were some big falls nearby. Wild light pink/purple azaleas were blooming. They hung impossibly from the rocky cliff sides. I came to a long steep narrow uneven stone stairway. I guess I know what they did with all those blown out rocks. I thought, wow, there are at least a hundred different opportunities for me to knock my front teeth out. I moved slowly down the hill at a glacial pace. I kind of like my teeth. There was a tree at the bottom covered in carved names. The carvings had darken with time and looked like Egyptian hieroglyphs. How many of those couples whose initials were connected with "+" were still together? I could feel a mist hitting my legs. Was that coming from the sky or was it spray from the falls? Laurel Falls roaring below. I dropped my pack and took a closer looks. I learned later that a father and son had drowned in the falls in the not too distant past. Mother Nature is not to be tangoed with. I did some yoga among the rocks and thanked the Universe for a capable body. Too often I criticize it for its shortcomings and don't give thanks for the miraculous vessel that it is. I have much to be grateful for. I started getting a chill, so I loaded the pack and headed on. I met Vita; he had camped along the river for three days. I skirted the river as the AT took me along rocks. The hand-holds were rubbed smooth from thousands of hands grasping them over decades. Time for some hand-sanitizer. The trail passed back and forth over the river with sturdy, picturesque bridges facilitating the traverse. I stood in the middle of them and watched the water pass below. It gave me a mild case of vertigo. It made me think of Siddhartha. The river is constant and yet ever changing, never the same from one moment to the next. Finally the trail turned uphill and away from Hampton, TN. The directions said the climb was only 2.5 miles, but there were new sections of trail, and according to my own pacing, I'm guessing it was closer to 4 miles. Again, sometimes, mentally at least, it's better not to have paper directions. Because whether it is 2.5 miles or 4 miles, it doesn't matter, you have to hike it. I finally reached Pond Flats and stopped for lunch. I had skipped my morning Snickers and my stomach was growling. I took off my shoes and aired out my feet. My feet are covered in calluses, old blisters and scars from old-injures past, but they still work. They haven't walked away from me yet. I passed Little SAS, Davy Crockett, Orion, Odette, Breezy & Windy slack packing in the other direction. It's always nice to see familiar, smiling faces. Finally, I saw Watauga Lake up in the distance. The trail seemed to meander all over the mountain as if a child had scribbled its path on a piece of paper. It felt like I was walking in circles, the lake never seemed to get any closer. Finally I made it down to US 321. Traffic was whizzing by in both directions. Wow, back in civilization. I walked across the road down to a designated swimming area. The lake was high and the grassy area was flooded with Canadian geese. They were happily pecking away at the grass, eating bugs I guess. I navigated their poop and set my pack down on the picnic table. I had my heart set on a swim. But as soon as I got undressed, the sky clouded over and the wind picked up across the water. I waded in, up to my rib-cage. The water was cool but not cold. It made my feet cramp. That wasn't the affect that I was hoping for. An older gentleman pulled up. He had a full-body orange tan. He stripped down to a tiny turquoise Speedo and joined an older lady laying out in a gold bikini. I wondered if they were European. Just more of the local wildlife. A group of hikers showed up. I said hello, and headed back out.There was an alternative AT route along the lake, as the normal route had been flooded out. I had to walk along busy US 321. I almost got clipped by a truck pulling a bass boat. Imagine, having survived all the rain, snow and ice just to get taken out by a Boston Whaler. No thank you. I cross-countryed through the brush, back down to the trail. I'd rather have to wade through some water. Luckily the water had receded and the regular AT route was easily passable. The trail along the lake was smooth and relaxing. There were several ideal camping spots, but they had already been staked out by other hikers. The tree foliage, even the tall hardwoods were bursting with lime green leaves. As if they had awoken from their winter slumber and realized they were naked, they quickly wrapped themselves in a thick towel of leaves. No doubt, the "Green Tunnel" is soon to come. The ground was covered in lots of beautiful flowers: aster, larkspur, more irises (these were lighter purple with white throats), wild strawberries, and brilliant red flowers that I hadn't seen yet. I stopped at the Watauga Lake Shelter and made dinner. Beerdra was there, and I talked with her while I cooked and ate. Brownie and Trenchfoot stopped by. I finally mustered the motivation to clean and load everything back up. I still wanted to get in a few more miles. When I reached back out to the main trail, for the life of me, I couldn't remember which way to turn. Seriously. I looked right downhill. That was my first instinct, but I swore that I had been climbing uphill when I turned into the shelter. I looked left uphill. That didn't look familiar either. I walked a few yards uphill and saw a white blaze with an "S" on it. Southbound. But was it really southbound, or was it a prank?   I turned around and walked downhill. There was another white blaze with an "N". Northbound. Okay, back on track. I continued along the lake and got to the damn. There was a double white blaze painted on a rock, indicating either a direction change or a road crossing. I thought I was supposed to go across the dam, but there was a the words "HIKE" painted in florescent pink paint with an arrow pointing straight up a 6 ft rock face and into the woods. The lichen was worn off rock indicating that it was frequently climbed. The directions said nothing about a 6 ft rock face, but I didn't see any other white blazes. I paced back and forth a few times. I decided that I would rather have to walk the 100 yards across the flat dam and be wrong than to have to climb 6 ft up the rock face and be wrong. I got half way across the dam and saw a white blaze. Sweet!   I climbed up into the woods and hiked along a ridge. There weren't many camping options, so I took the first one I found. It was a flattish area on top of a ridge. The lake was on one side and a beautiful lemon-yellow sunset on the other. Yes, this would do indeed! I took a photo and sent it to Tom. I sent a thanks out into the Universe for another successful day. I called home and talked to my mom. And now I lay here and listening to the wind howl. It's gusting like crazy out there.