Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Another Weekend in the Mountains

Exploring the river
It's been a tradition, ever since my first October in Raleigh three years ago, to go group camping in the mountains one weekend each fall. Of course, I was raised to believe that camping meant backpacking into the wilderness carrying the lightest bag possible, but since 2013, I have changed my tune. My first group camping trip at a campsite with a picnic table and grill taught me that you can have the joy of sleeping in a tent while still having access to warm water and toilets. Plus you can make biscuits and gravy in a Dutch oven over the fire and feel like a cowboy. Since cast iron would be pretty heavy to carry on the trail, the jury is still out as to whether I'd be up for "real" backpacking again any time soon.

These camping experiences have also proven to be life-changing for me. Kyle and I had met briefly at the Japanese Meet-Up during the summer of 2013, but it wasn't until our first camping trip that October that we were able to get to know each other better. Nothing brings two people together quicker than getting lost in the woods and fearing for their lives. (We made it out okay, though.)

This time, Kyle and I maintained the tradition (of camping, not getting lost) by going up to Black Mountain Campground near Burnsville for a weekend trip. We were joined by our friend Kelly and one of her friends, both of whom are much more adept at "real" camping than Kyle and me: they have actual camping supplies and go camping more than once a year! Kelly also brought her two adorable dogs, who seemed right in their element running around the campsite.

Our first day was spent getting settled in and exploring the area. We were able to snag a camping spot right beside the river, and after pitching our tents, we took a hike downstream. The river was singing, the sun was shining, the puppies were laughing, and all was well. Later we cooked a fancy meal of roasted beef, chicken fajitas, and baked potatoes over the fire, followed by enough s'mores to feed an army.

Day two, in retrospect, was really a lovely day, but in the moment, it was pretty brutal. Not knowing exactly what we were getting into, we decided to hike up Mt. Mitchell. Now I've hiked mountains before (almost got to the top of Mt. Fuji six years ago, if that means anything), so the 5.7-mile one-way hike didn't scare me. And I was thinking, sure, it'll be a nice, relaxing walk in the woods. 

Ha! 


Not the view from Mt. Mitchell,
but from the Blue Ridge Parkway
We failed to realize that those 5.7 miles were basically all uphill -- and that coming down was all downhill. It took about four hours to reach the top of the mountain -- the tallest this side of the Mississippi, in case you didn't know, reaching an impressive 6,684 feet high (yes, yes, yes, Mt. Fuji is over 12,000, but that's neither here nor there). Apparently, hiking this mountain is something you train for, not something you decide to do on a whim. But we made it (even the dogs!), and were greeted with an impressive view of the entire Blue Ridge Mountains at the top. (Pardon the lack of photos of the mountain: I thought it prudent to leave my phone at the campsite.) It was also really, really disheartening to see that after all of our struggles, the majority of the people up at the crowded top had just driven in by car. And after we had worked so hard for that view!

Coming down was actually more difficult than going up: about a quarter of a mile in, my left knee started swelling with all the jolts, and a little later on, my right joined the party (apparently I'm getting old). The rocky terrain, interlaced with roots, had been easy to use for traction going up, but it made for a hard descent. Most of us were feeling some aches and pains by the time we got back to the campground three hours later. But like I said, in retrospect, I'm really glad we did it!


The next day, Kyle and I left early to drive the Blue Ridge Parkway down to Sky Top Orchard in Flat Rock, NC. Even with our sore legs, we were happily nostalgic to be back at the place that held such good memories for us. We bought almost 40 pounds of apples! Now what we're going to do with all of those apples is still a mystery: so far I've made five jars of applesauce and an applesauce cake, but we still have another 20 pounds to eat!

I am a person who enjoys a good tradition, and this yearly mountain camping trip is one I want to hold on to for a long time yet. Just maybe a little lighter on my legs. 


Basket of Apples



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