Date: 2014-06-02
From: Saltlog Gap

To: Hog Camp Gap
Miles today: 20.2

My plans for today called for a 21 mile hike to reach Hog Camp Gap. This is a meadow with a swing on a tree and was our favorite camping spot when Marcia, Paris and I hiked in June 2002. A couple of minor hills totaling 1000 feet plus a not so minor 3000 feet climb from the Pedlar river to the top of Brown Mountain, a drop of 500 feet and then 500 feet climb up Cold Mountain. That amounted to 4600 feet climb for the day. However, I was on the trail by 8:00 AM and I had the motivation of reaching Hog Camp Gap.My first point of interest lay at the top of Bluff Mountain after a climb of 800 feet, the "Ottie Cline Powell Monument." I wondered what that could be all about because I had no idea who he was. After I arrived , read the inscription, and meditated for a quarter hour, I continued the hike thinking about all the questions Ottie brought to mind. Seems that little Ottie, a month shy of his 5th birthday wondered away from Tower Hill School November 9, 1890, and Little Ottie's body was not found until April 5, 1881 at this exact location, seven miles from his school.I was reminded of James Still's Story, "The Nest." It is about a little girl, Nezzie Hargis, who died of exposure on the way to a nearby relative's home. Questions I had are: what is the teacher's perspective on this event? (I am a teacher). What was Ottie thinking and feeling? Was there a path through the mountains to follow? Where is Tower Hill located in perspective to this location? I will look for more information that might be known on this tragedy. My next break came at Punch Bowl Shelter, a bit off the trail, but I needed a water refill. It was in a pretty setting with a small pond on the site and a good sized yard with a picnic table away from the shelter itself.I got caught up on the news from Achilles and Simba, two of the hikers I know. Achilles was coloring a picture from a giant coloring book that he is carrying now strapped on his pack. Simba was organizing her gear. By the time I had my water treated, everyone except Simba had headed north. I told her I would see her when she passed me on the big hill.On the way down the hill towards the Pedlar River Valley, I passed an area that had been studied for years as virgin forest. A sign said it was 300 year old chestnut oak. I had noted a large beech tree when I first entered the area. I don't see too many beeches. In the Smokies they had fenced off an area of beech forest to protect it from wild hogs. Beech trees are the best tree to carve your initials into and below that the initials of your sweetheart with a plus sign between the initials. The tree has a smooth bark and after engraving your mark, it stayed there for years. That particular tree had some old carving, possibly before it was part of the AT. I will have to look for my initials when I go back to my old home place. Of course, on the AT, I advocate against any defacing of trees and buildings. Make your mark the modern way, by posting on Facebook. I spent a lot of time in the forest as a lad helping Dad harvest timber or hunting game for the dinner table. I learned a lot of tree names from him. In Florida we cut pines and took them to the pulpwood buyers for making paper in the mills. In Kentucky he specialized in cutting locust trees that we cut into 8 foot lengths and split to be sold for fence posts. Locust is slow growing, so it resists rotting for years. I recounted all that to say, that I really enjoyed seeing the large old trees as I hike along. I have sawn down trees, counted the rings and have a deep appreciation for the ages it takes for the giants of the forest to develop. I think Tolkien had some of that same sense by the way he described the character of the Ents.I crossed the Pedlar River on the suspension bridge then stopped for a snack of beef jerky. Four other hikers paused here also, because soon we would get to the first part of the 3000 feet climb. At the base of the mountain, I read a sign posted by the Forest Service to be on the lookout for historical indications left by a Brown Mountain Creek community. A group of freed slaves established a community along the creek in the early 1900's and made their living by farming, which lasted until the Forest Service purchased their land. Having talked with one modern land owner along the trail who is involved in a legal battle with the NFS to keep her land, I would suspect that was not necessarily a friendly takeover of their land. The signs in the area give insight into the way of life of the sharecroppers. With all the leaves in the trees, all I could identify of the community was a stone fence along the creek, perhaps for flood control.The streams with their abundant flow and cascades kept my ears filled with their joyful music up to the US 60 crossing. The frothing water tumbling over the rocks made me thirsty and wanting to just dip up the cold water and drink straight from the stream. I thought how smart God is to create something we call water that always flows down hill and seeks the lowest level, because I knew this water is headed for the Chesapeake Bay.The Highway US 60 crossing was a busy place for hikers hitching into Buena Vista or arriving back and having one last smoke or drink before climbing the remaining 2000 feet to the summit of Brown mountain. This crossing marks the beginning point of my former backpacking experience on the AT in 2002 with my wife and daughter. We were shuttled here by my Uncle Philip and Aunt Marilyn from Lynchburg. We spent 4 nights and 5 days on the trail before getting off the trail at Fish Hatchery Road (Spyrock road). To night, if I could get across this hill, I would sleep in the same meadow that we had enjoyed before as a family. I started up the mountIan using various tactics of going slow and stopping less or going strong and making more breathing stops. Sure enough, Simba passed me on the climb, and temporarily gave me some extra zip as I tried to keep her in sight as she powered on up the slope.When I got to the meadow at Hog Camp Gap at 8:00 PM, it was just as I remembered with the swing at the left hanging from a tree limb and a water source down the hill to the right. Except some other people had "my spot!" That was okay because I wanted to sleep in the open field so I could see the stars. I set the tent up but left my sleeping bag and pad outside, made a trip to the spring for the coldest of water. Then as sat sipping a hot cup of Viva coffee and dunking my sea salt Carmel biscotti in the mocha flavored drink, I thought "if this isn't nice, I don't know what is".