Date: 2013-04-26
From: Silers Bald Shelter

To: Peck's Corner Shelter, NC-TN
Miles today: 22.9
Weather: scattered clouds

At the sound of wrestling in the dark cold of the morning, I fumbled for my phone to check the time in my groggy state of mind. It was 4am. I could hear whispering in the shelter 10 yards from my tent. I fell back to sleep in the comfort of my warm bag. A large group of hikers that slept in the Silers Bald Shelter, braved the cold and left the comfort of the fire-warmed hut, with headlamps towards Clingmans (EL 6,655-ft) Dome. I emphasize "towards" since it was pitch black and even in the daylight, the AT could be elusive, particularly where other trails joined. I knew from the previous day that Black Foot and his dad were two of those participants. I could not imagine how frost bitten my bare feet would've felt. I woke later than usual, at about 6am, still groggy from a long day before. It was icy this morning. I bundled up in all my layers before packing up my tent. I enjoyed a new variety of granola from Trader Joe's that Britta had sent to Fontana, with a squeeze of peanut butter. It was about about 7am, when I finally got motivated to make the gradual ascent to Clingmans Dome. From Silers Bald, the hike was a little under 5 miles, and just over 1,000 vertical feet. About 0.2 miles north of the shelter, the AT makes a sharp turn east, and down a short hill. A USGS survey bench mark in the boulder with a double-off-set trail blaze marked on the rock marks this critical turn. I made it to Double Spring Gap Shelter before 8am, and it too had been vacated- likely before dawn, to observe the sunrise from Clingman's Dome. I reached Clingmans Dome (mi 199.1) by mid morning, and sat on the stone wall at the entrance to the spiral ramp leading to the top of the monolithic concrete tower. To make it to this point without back tracking required a critical turn at a fork in the trail, which I did not miss. To go the other direction, forced the hiker to circumnavigate the summit to a lower parking lot, where the visitor center was located. I had learned later, that the entire expedition group that hiked by headlamp, had missed this critical turn and missed the sunrise at the summit. I had to laugh, since I had learned this lesson from an earlier alpine mountaineering experience, making a wrong turn at a critical trail junction, setting myself and my climbing partner back a couple hours on our 10 mile approach to our planned route on Clyde Minaret. You live and learn and try your best to not make the same mistake twice! As I sat on the wall at the base of the summit tower, I enjoyed a bite to eat while watching rotund tourists wattle their way up the paved road from the parking area down the hill. I had anticipated Clingmans Dome being a disappointment before coming to the east cost when I located it on Google one day and noticed the concrete tower, built with bridge-like proportions. The elevation itself is nothing to be thrilled about, coming from California, which boasts the loftiest summit in the contiguous USA, Mt. Whitney, EL= 14,505-ft above msl, (7,850 ft higher than Clingman's Dome). Anyone who has made the ascent of Whitney, knows why Clingman's Dome is anticlimactic. In comparison to Clingman's Dome, Mt. Whitney also had a structure erected for observation. The difference however, between the intended purpose of observation from each structure is as vast as the universe. Although man has again left his mark on the summit of Whitney, in the form of a historic rock hut, the hut is constructed of the native rock, and stands a meager one story (about 10-ft), with an 11 X 30-ft foot print, on an exfoliated broad, dome shaped summit like Clingman's. The observatory was equipped with a 16-in horizontal reflecting telescope, designed of intent to observe evidence for water and life on Mars, an average 140 million miles from earth. As technology advanced, this insignificant structure served as a shelter to the hundreds of hikers or climbers that summited over the decades. While this stone hut of insignificant physical proportion earned a monumental spot in the National Register of Historic Places, I failed to understand how the monolithic concrete pile of crap called the "Clingmans Dome Observation Tower" constructed in 1959, and designed by Bebb and Olson Architectural Firm was registered in 2009, by the historian, Cynthia Walton, merely because it made the 50 year mark. It was constructed as part of the "Mission 66" program, intended to change the visitor's National Park experience through addition of park structures¢¦in this case for the worse! The irony behind this colossal eye sore, is that it's visual impact to the hiker passing by is vastly larger than the view it has to offer. From the circular, 28-ft diameter observation platform, elevated 45-ft above the ground, it is said on the clearest of conditions, one can see a distance of 100 miles. This is a very rare occurrence. With increasing pollution, compounded by the weather factor, one can usually observe 20 miles of the dying forest below. The forests of the Great Smokies, as Bill Bryson alludes, is dying a slow death from the hemlock woolly adelgid and the balsam woolly adelgid introduced by Europeans in the earlier centuries. Both these insects are starving the fir trees to a slow and certain death, which will someday leave only the 45-ft spiral concrete monolith visible for miles from other summits in the Smokies. Some of the greatest irony with the colossal 12% grade ramp spiraling up to the platform, like a large warped interstate bridge, is that the ramp is useless for ADA required maximum 8.3% grade. The park service could have easily considered making some nicely manicured, wheel chair accessible paths a short distance from the paved area to several locations around the summit, all with commanding views. In the late morning, after enjoying some home made jerky a couple of day hikers had generously offered, I headed north down the rocky slopes of Clingmans to a patch of grass at Road Prong Trail next to Clingmans Dome Rd. I thought of Blackfoot's challenges ahead, as the terrain began to transform from the soft, squishy black, organic muds common in GA, to sharp rock in the Smokies and beyond. I was happy to have reliable shoes on my feet, for there were plenty of other discomforts to be had besides raw and bruised feet. Where the AT intersected Clingman's Dome Rd. at mile 202.6, I sat on a patch of lawn below a parking lot, and rested supine for a moment, before grabbing the food bag for a snack. A couple of older ladies sitting at the edge of the parking area recognized me as a through hiker, as I thumbed through AWOL's AT Guide. They offered me some fresh fruit which I gladly accepted. I lent them my Guide book to satisfy their curiosity. They asked me if I had been in the Whites before. They said I'd be in for a treat. Apparently both were from New Hampshire and had spent much time hiking in the Whites. When I reached Newfound Gap, at US 441 where hikers could exit the Smokies to the notorious town of Gatlinburg, TN, I caught up to Shanks and Haggard. They had told me that Black Foot and his dad left for Gatlinburg. I got this feeling that Black Foot was tossing in the white flag or his dad was encouraging him. The terrain for bare feet was only getting worse to the north. A sign in the parking area marked the NC-TN state boundary, which the AT has been straddling along the ridge lines through the Smokies. I hiked a short ways up the ridge from the parking area with Shanks and Haggard. Haggard hiked a good pace, well ahead of Shanks, though fell back eventually. I found myself, once again hiking solo along narrow ridges in to the late afternoon, beneath overcast skies. I hiked out on the precipitous trail to Charlies Bunion, where a sign warned visitors of the dangers. The ridge lines were like serrated knives, severing the clouds. I enjoyed the views for a bit before moving on towards Pecks Corner Shelter, still 7 miles north, with 2.5 hours at best, of day light. With a rapid pace, I hiked the relatively flat ridge line, climbing up an un-named peak (EL 5,728-ft) into dusk, before making the final drop to Pecks Corner Shelter. About 2.5 miles south of the shelter, I passed a couple of older women who were hiking extremely slow. I made it down to Pecks Corner Shelter, an additional 0.5 miles off the AT, by dusk. The shelter had two spaces left, which were reserved apparently for the two women I had passed. If you are a section hiker in the Smokies, you can apparently reserve a place in the shelter. As it began to rain, I found a patch of clumpy grass in an opening upslope of the shelter to set up the tent. The two older women arrived in darkness about a half hour later. I made supper under the cover of the shelter after filtering water at the spring below. I crawled into my warm bag following supper and quickly fell to sleep.