Shining Through

Looking West from Flowery Gap on the Art Loeb Trail.

"We've got some options, for sure." The words came from my slightly out-of-breath hiking partner and new friend, Chris LaFond, as we paused to rest at Deep Gap and the foot of Cold Mountain (yes, the one from the book and subsequent movie). After stomping out approximately 10 miles of backcountry trail in the last 4 hours while carrying 40lb packs, we had a decision to make. Despite our observance of the antiquated practice that is daylight savings, sunlight was becoming a fleeting commodity.

Our hike through the Shining Rock Wilderness area of North Carolina had been scheduled as a training event for our respective Summit for Someone climbs of The Grand Teton (Chris), and Mount Whitney (me), and the experience was all we were hoping for and more. Primarily, the goal for the weekend was to get in as much fitness at altitude as our bodies and the geography of the Blue Ridge Mountains could provide us, but we also wanted to be casual enough to actually enjoy the trip and all the scenic beauty there was to take in. Part of the Pisgah National Forest and one of the first locations in the East to receive the designation of Wilderness Area in 1964 (Because before the government's wisdom, it wasn't wild?), the Shining Rock Wilderness is a part of Western North Carolina that I have absolutely fallen in love with. Multiple peaks rise above 6,000 feet, rivers and streams flow as clear as crystal and panoramic vistas abound. At the heart of it all, is a mountain bejeweled with a deposit of snowy-white quartz that is visible from miles away, and a trail runs through it.

That trail, named for a man whose doctor once prescribed walking as treatment for a recent heart attack, has been referred to by some as a mini-A.T. Take out the 2,000+ miles and 6 months of travel, and yeah, I can sort of see that comparison. Actually, this hike proved to be quite therapeutic indeed. It had been a stressful last couple of weeks at work, and there's not a shrink's couch in the world that can compare with Mother Nature. No she isn't going to sit and listen to you bitch about your boss, how much you think you are underpaid, or how mommy or daddy didn't hug you enough as a kid. She doesn't have time for that. Instead, she offers a chance to take perspective by putting the onus back on ourselves. Superficial problems tend to melt away and fade into the distance when you're on (and sometimes off) the trail. Priorities change.

When you know that it will get close to the freezing point that night, you become concerned with essential things like food, water and shelter. As we traversed the trail which skirts along a ridge above Graveyard Fields just south of the southern border of the wilderness area, Chris and I began looking for a place to establish camp for the night. Graveyard Fields is a unique area just off the Blue Ridge Parkway where, as history would typically have it, man found another way to make his imprint on the land by causing devastating fires which scorched the land so much that the soil became nearly barren. What now exists is a high elevation meadow at the base of Black Balsam Knob where the Yellowstone Prong of the Pigeon River finds its beginnings. It was the trickle of that water source that drew our attention. Chris pointed out that down in the floor of the valley was enough dry fuel (for a fire) to choke a mule, a reliable water source, shelter from the winds that were beginning to pick up, and plenty of trees from which we could hang our food in hopes of denying any prowling bears (last year the whole area was shut down due to an abundance of visits from Ursus americanus). The only problem? We had to bushwhack about 200ft. downhill through briars and brambles in order to reach our Eden for the evening. Priorities.

As Chris blew into a bundle of dried grass and flower heads to spark the fire to life, a few moments of rest and relaxation were finally upon us. Dinner had been cooked and consumed, reloading on the carbohydrates and proteins needed for proper recovery and another long day on the trail, and all edibles were stowed high in a tree for safe-keeping until morning. As night slowly crept in, the two of us sat captivated and mesmerized by the flickering, snapping, popping flames that bathed us in an island of light and warmth, an island whose borders continually shifted - expanding and contracting - as each log carried out the process of carbonizing into charred sticks. At some point, in an hour of night much earlier than either of us expected, the simultaneous decision to retire for the evening was made. Stepping beyond the warming embrace of the fire was a bit of a shock to my senses, but only for the moment it took to scurry up to the tent and slide into the down-insulated warmth of my sleeping bag. Tomorrow's day would begin with another bushwhack up the hill and back to the trail, followed by an ensuing 1,000ft climb to the summit of Black Balsam Knob, highest point on the Art Loeb. Multiple 6,000ft peaks and endless views awaited us, but first, some well-deserved sleep.

Chris looking out from Shining Rock.

The next day was spent riding the roller coaster that is Section 3 of the Art Loeb Trail, including summits of Black Balsam, Tennet, and Flower Knob, each penetrating the 6,000ft barrier. The highlight, however, had to be the gigantic mountain-top exposure of quartz aptly named Shining Rock. The most abundant mineral on the planet, quartz is rumored to have several spiritual properties, including being especially effective against chronic fatigue, arthritis, bone injuries, depression, diabetes, fibromyalgia, intestinal issues, mental and physical energy loss, lack of stamina, and lack of physical strength. While the scientific evidence may still be thin on these claims, the rejuvenation I felt after spending time in this area is equally thin on comparison. Chris and I climbed onto the face of this natural phenomenon, and for a while, simply stood in awe of nature's beauty.

We spent a while resting here and taking in the surroundings that could easily have served as a Peter Jackson backdrop. With renewed spirits, we eventually pried ourselves away and continued our hike toward Cold Mountain where a decision had to be made. Light was a fading resource. After weighing out the options, the choice came down to this: make a push to summit Cold Mountain, camp without a fire among the several others who had recently entered the camping area, and then head home in the morning with both of us having to work on Tuesday OR, continue on to the western terminus of our trip at Camp Daniel Boone, roll into the city of Brevard, partake in some of the local cuisine and brew at The Square Root, and then take time Monday to soak in the infamous tubs at the Hot Springs Resort and Spa before heading back to Georgia. This was a no-brainer.

From the trail, the roof of my Subaru glinted only faintly in the dim light of sunset as we left the Shining Rock Wilderness for the creature comforts of craft brew and gourmet burgers. It was a hike that, while perhaps cut a day short, was one of the most rewarding and mentally cleansing I've had in quite some time. Monday morning we awoke early, procured breakfast from the Smoky Mountain Diner, and then headed downtown to relax for a bit in the hot springs for which the town is famous.

I drove home feeling like a new man. Mystical or not, the healing powers of Shining Rock and its surrounding wilderness area left an indelible mark on my soul that continues to shine through, even if only in some small way, that I hope to carry with me for quite some time.