Shop Creek and the Naked Lady, Smokies 12-7-03

I’m not sure I had heard of the Naked Lady before she appeared on the SMHC schedule. Mike and Ray described her more discretely as the “Amazon of Shop Creek,” But her nickname was too good not to stick. This hike promised to be a fun adventure with long sections of relatively easy off trail hiking, and was billed as one of Mike’s “easy” off trails.

The Amazon of Shop Creek.

Our route was essentially up Shop Creek to its head, then follow Skunk Ridge down to its base at Tabcat Creek and exit to US 129 via an old road along Tabcat. The hike required a short car shuttle. With Jean and I, plus the leaders, there were only three other hikers for this seven mile loop.

For such a memorable hike it is a shame I did not take better notes. But I did take a GPS track. We must have been warned off from bringing our camera by talk of numerous stream crossings. We started with “a lot” of fords of Shop Creek, but were then able to follow an old manway to the carving. We may have passed and old home site with a chimney pile on the way. The Lady was a remarkable piece of folk art, carved rather graphically into a large beech tree facing upstream. We spent some time mulling her age, her origin, and her place here deep in the Smokies Wilderness. Based on the comparison with dates carved in other beech trees in the area Woody Brinegar in his Maryville Daily article on 10-1-87 estimated that the carving could date back to the 1910s.

From the Lady, we continued up Shop Creek to its head, where there was collapsed cabin, or more properly, a pile of logs that looked like a collapsed cabin. The 1931 park map shows this entire route so far as an old road. From the cabin site we climbed cross country 0.6 mile up to the crest of Skunk Ridge at BM 2324’. I guess we were due for a downgrade on our place names for the trip.

Skunk Ridge was relatively open, and we made good time here. We ate lunch at the modest high point of the ridge. This was my first trip to US 129 side of the park, and I’m not sure if this hike was prior to the pine beetle infestation that killed so many trees and made for difficult bushwhacking on my subsequent trips.

In Tabcat Creek there is an intersection of a pair of power lines. We spotted a group of bear poachers here, below us in the powerline right-of-way. At first they tried to warn us out of their way, but we yelled back that they were in the park and poaching. Back at the mouth of Tabcat ,their vehicles were parked by ours. Hunting is legal across the highway and one hunter claimed that’s what he was doing with his radio unit. But he got mighty upset when we started taking pictures of their vehicles and license plates and calling them into the park. After we drove back down to the Shop Creek pullout, the whole outfit roared by us with fingers flashing.

Group shot from scanned slide.

11-16-04

At this time, I was between jobs and volunteering once a week at the Smokies Backcountry Information Office at Sugarlands VC. Through this position I met some folks who knew huge amounts about the backcountry, both on and off trail. In a conversation at the volunteer’s annual picnic, the Naked Lady came up. Two of the regular volunteers, Buck and Zane had been to the carving twice, but had been unable to find her on their last visit. My visit had been less than a year previously, so I was confident that I could find her again. We made plans for a day hike that also included Cathy, a hiking partner of theirs.

Starting up Shop Creek.

The start of the hike was similar to my 2003 trip, a decent travelling manway. We had only one rough spot, where Shop Creek makes a sharp left turn to the northeast in a boggy area. We lost the old road where it moves left and north to avoid a steep narrow canyon. Instead, we walked the canyon to a small waterfall which we hadn’t seen previously. We realized our error, and retreated to the boggy area, then found the old road above us.

Above wrong way falls.

I used the GPS to find the exact location of the tree in an old clearing. This would be the first “clearing” after the old road turns to the northeast. Though I was using the GPS, I took a few pictures. Buck and Zane though took many, and gave me a CD full of their images. Buck was especially animated cuddling up to the Lady, who remained unmoved by all his attention.

Buck.

The hike was only four miles long, but seemed farther than any of us remembered.

Cathy, Zane, and Buck.

My ability to guide Buck, Zane, and Cathy to the Naked Lady gained me some unusual notoriety. One day not long after our trip a Smokies ranger called our house. I was out so Jean answered. The ranger explained who he was, and that he needed to talk to her husband whom he’d been told was the Naked Lady expert. Luckily Jean had been on the club hike knew the story. 

Detail of the Top of the carving.

The ranger was calling to find out a location for something he needed to follow up on. The person who gave the original report had only told them it was near the naked lady. After talking with the folks in the backcountry he’d been referred to me as the Naked Lady expert. I was able to provide the ranger with a map location.

Trip map.

The carving was in good shape in a photo from a 2009 GoSmokies Post. Mike Kneis found it in 2015, but the carving had deteriorated to the point of being unrecognizable by mid to late 2010s.

Fall Creek Falls Adventure Race, 8-23-03

For 2003, Steven, Mark, and I decided to try the Riversports Adventure Race at Fall Creek Falls SP. This race required a crew, and we were lucky to be able to recruit Matt Zedler, who I knew from road biking with Mark. I don’t know if there was as a 2003 version of the Pickett race, or if we just decided to try a different course. I have only the course map, a finish list, and a T-shirt left over from the race. 

Falls Creek Falls in 2007.

We had some trouble getting organized for this race. Partly this was because of late changes; the need for a crew and the addition of a swim leg. Steven was a non-swimmer, but I thought he was being modest when he said he really couldn’t swim much beyond just paddling around. The Friday before the race was a minor fiasco. Steven and I made a late trip (out to the Farragut location of Blue Ridge Mountain Sports?) to buy a pair of figure 8’s for the rappels before driving to the park. Mark and Matt decided to get us room at the Inn. Steven and I arrived late, and we weren’t checked in and settled into our room until after midnight.

2003 Falls Creek Falls Adventure Race Map.

Stage one of the race was an easy jog from the park Inn to the Boat Launch. Its hard to run while carrying a canoe paddle. For the canoe leg, I took the stern, None of us did much paddling, but I could at least steer a canoe on flat water. We had a couple checkpoints around the lake, along with a section where we needed to drop off, then pick up a teammate who would then run along the lakeshore on the Gilbert Gaul Trail. We were surely a sad sight thrashing around the lake, but we did manage to stay ahead of a couple of other boats. Back at the boat launch, next up was the dreaded swim leg. We had to swim back to the Inn, wearing a life vest and carrying a dry bag. We crammed what gear we could into the bag and then splashed into the lake. It’s tough swimming with all  that gear. A few teams were good at this, we were not. Mark could swim, but about 2/3 the way across the lake Steven’s swimming gave out. I ended up towing him and the dry bag the rest of the way across the lake. We emerged from the water dead last.

Luckily we could make up some time on the bike leg. As was typical of the Riversports events, the race was essentially a long mountain bike ride with a few other events tossed in. Mark did most of the route finding on the bike leg, and did a great job keeping us on course. Basically, we rode a giant loop around the south end of the part with a side trip to the Bradden Knob Fire Tower. We overshot one turn, but teams riding towards us tipped us off to the mistake. Steven was eagle eyed and spotted a couple of the markers a long way off. The biking was easy at the start, but the route went from gravel to two track to barely visible until we connected with the FCF Backcountry Loop, which had recently been opened to bikes. One checkpoint turned out to be mismapped, and teams lost various amounts of time depending on how long they spent searching for it before giving up. There was one short cross country segment to regain the bike trail. By the time we reached the out and back leg to the Fire tower, our team was in the top ten (17 teams would finish).

We’d feared that the heat and humidity of August would be the biggest obstacle, and Mark was the first one to feel it. He recovered quickly, but by then Steven had started to fade. We took some longer breaks but Steven was not getting any better. We tried to cool him down at a creek crossing where there was a swinging bridge that looked in such poor shape that we opted to ford the creek. The day was hot, and we’d gotten a lot of sun on the lake, so I doubted Steve had drunk enough. I don’t know if weather was a factor, but he had similar issues last year at Pickett when the temperatures were near freezing. Typically for the Riversports races the biking was really long (I measured about 26.5 miles using my Topo! software). The time and distance we spent on the bikes was frustrating, but the designated bike trail fun, fast, and easy.

At one point Steven looked shot. He was very pale and just flopped down on the grass to rest. This is never a good idea on the Cumberland Plateau in summer, and he later paid the price in countless seed tick bites. I ended up with many bites on my ankles just from walking around. Mark and I were getting worried and decided we should quit at the next aid station/checkpoint (15 or 16?), if we could get there.

There was a nurse at the next stop who helped Steven, while her partner drove to the next transition area to get Matt. Good thing we had a crew! With Steven in good hands, Mark and I rode on, passing Matt along the road. We asked Matt to pick up Steven, get him settled back at the hotel, then come back to drop off our gear. Steven had been throwing up, had chills, and was very weak by this time. Matt got him back to the room.

But without our gear, Mark and I missed the cut off for rappelling into the gorge, and so we dropped out. One race person had told us we could continue, but the free rappel into the Cane Creek Falls plunge pool looked too scary for me. As a result, we also missed the orienteering section and the short bike ride back to the finish. I measured about 33.2 miles for the sections we completed.

Back at the room it took most of the evening for Steven to regain his usual good cheer. Not surprisingly this turned out to be last adventure race for us. Riversports sponsored a few more races, but those tended to be local, and in the newly burgeoning recreation areas in south Knoxville. It is likely that the big races such as Pickett and Fall Creek Falls were too expensive and labor intensive to maintain. 

The 2025 Falls Creek Falls park map.

2003, 7-20, FHSP, Jeep Road Mountain Biking

With all the attention that Frozen Head gets for its hiking and trail running opportunities, people tend to forget that there are options for mountain biking as well. The entire Lookout Tower Trail (aka the Jeep Road) is open for riding from the campground to Tub Spring and the Lookout Tower, and then down to TN 116 at Armes Gap. In addition, the side road to Coffin Springs is open to bikes, or at least it was when I rode it in 2003.

There are a couple reasons why mountain biking hasn’t caught on at Frozen Head. The first is the three mile long, 1,600 foot climb from the main trailhead to the crest of Bird Mountain. After the main climb, there’s a nice long stretch of rolling terrain to Panther Gap, but then it’s another 400’ climb in ¾ of a mile up to the Lookout Tower. The back side is just as hilly, 1200’ of climbing in 2.7 miles from Armes Gap.

The second reason is the roadbed. Sure, a jeep road sounds like a nice cushy surface for riding, but the reality is often different. The first three miles of the road that climb to the crest of Bird Mountain can be loose and rocky, depending on how long it has been since the road was graded. Some summers the road is washed out enough that ATVs rather than pickup trucks are the main mode of transport. The Park does it best to keep the road and its networks of culverts and drainage ditches clear, but this only postpones how long the road can stay open before regrading is necessary. I’ve spent enough volunteer days clearing culverts to know that it doesn’t take much rain to plug things up again.

I know a modest number of riders who’ve ridden at Frozen Head, but not too many who have come back to repeat their rides. Dave Engebretson, the former park manager was the only regular rider I knew, but then he lived in the park. Most of us ride there once, and quickly realize that there are many easier places to go.

By the summer of 2003 I was in good biking shape, just having finished the riding that would result in my third guidebook “Backroad Bicycling the Blue Ridge and Smokies.” I was also starting to learn how to use my GPS unit more efficiently, but not well enough for me to map out a trail yet, I was still just recording waypoints of features along trails or routes. Still, I was looking for new places to ride, and was curious to measure distances along the roads at Frozen Head.

My notes on the ride are mostly distances between features, primarily the trail intersections, and transcripts of the trail signs that I passed. I did take a few GPS waypoints, but I have no pictures from the ride.

I started at 8:10 at the Macs Trailhead and rode through the campground to reach the start of the Jeep Road. It’s a steady three mile climb to the top of Bird. For me it was long first gear grind, I remember going slowly enough that I thought I might tip over. The east end of the Bird Mountain Trail was well marked then, but I didn’t see any sign of the connector trail at Bald Knob leading north to the North Boundary Trail. I explored a bit there on foot, but couldn’t match any of the overgrowth to the trail shown on the park map.

Beyond the Bird Mountain Trail junction, the Jeep Road rambles along the mountain crest far more amiably. I found the side trail to the campsite at Squire Knob and walked to the little used area, and its cook table and fire ring. I also took a side trip down the Coffin Springs “Trail” also a road, but one less used, more overgrown, and more rutted. At the Coffin Spring Campsite, a trail turned north and downhill, and a gate marked the park boundary. ATV tracks stopped on the other side of the gate. The Cumberland Trail (now relocated) exited the park up the ATV road.

I rode back up to the Jeep Road, realizing that the ride to Coffin Springs loses more elevation than one might expect. After the junction with North Old Mac Trail in Panther Branch the Jeep Road steepens again. It’s a short, but breathtaking climb to the South Old Mac junction at Tub Spring. The last piece is the familiar spin up to the old Firetower, which hosted a designated campsite back then. I reached the tower at 11AM and in 8.9 miles, including my side trip.

Not surprisingly, the descent back to the trailhead was easier and quicker. But not as much of either as I’d hoped. The mountain crest segments were fine. Relieved of my mileage recording duties, I could just roll on and enjoy the scenery. But the descent down to the campground was still a bit of a chore. The road was rocky and rutted enough that I couldn’t just let the bike roll and needed to keep on the brakes the entire three miles, long enough to get a bit of cramping in the hands. Without the side trip, I was back to the Old Macs TH in 16.2 miles.

Besides my own trip, I’ve only seen sign of other riders at Frozen Head twice. The first was on a snow covered winter day when I was doing some early Barkley Training. I followed the track of a single rider along much of the Jeep Road to Tub Spring. There, instead of continuing on the road or turning back, the trail continued out on the Chimney Tops Trail. In those days I often finished my training days with a descent down the Spicewood Trail because of its smooth footing and gentle grade. The bike tracks that day went out to, and then down the Spicewood Trail as well. I remember that the tracks were recent, with the tread pattern pressed crisply into an inch or two of snow, and I wondered who had the stamina to do the ride, and the nerve to leave their tracks so obviously on a closed trail.

The other rider I saw was even more unusual. Jean and I had just completed our first volunteer training day for the E-mammal project at Frozen Head. E-mammal was a research project investigating the effects of trail/roads and their use on wildlife movement using game cameras. We’d learned to set up and calibrate our cameras in the morning and then Jean and I went out in the afternoon and completed our first placement near Bald Knob. As we approached the campground on the Jeep Road, we were passed by the principle investigator for the project, on a unicycle. According to his coworker he was a wiz, and had ridden up to the tower and back.

2003, 7-4, Virginia Creeper Mountain Bike Ride

 Jean and I had ridden the upper part of the Virginia Creeper Trail from Whitetop Station to Damascus twice for my 2003 book “Backroads Bicycling in the Blue Ridge and Smoky Mountains”.  Bike Book Link The 18-mile, family friendly ride was a perfect fit for the book, with its great scenery, easy logistics, and of course an all downhill grade. To keep the book rides varied, we’d ignored the lower section of the trail from Damascus down to Abingdon.

Riding the Virginia Creeper Trail.

For our next Fourth of July weekend, we decided to drive up to VA and ride the lower Creeper one day and then the New River Trail from Foster Falls to Pulaski the next day. Because I was still in the habit of taking the notes needed for writing guidebooks, I continued with this habit for both rides. Once home I wrote up both rides for potential inclusion in a later edition of the guide. However, sales of my bike book were never strong, and in contrast to all my other books, it never went to a second edition. With no second edition in sight, I am posting the write up here.

While the upper Creeper from Whitetop to Damascus is potentially the most popular ride in the region, the lower section is relatively quiet. The shuttle services in Damascus are happy to drop you off in Abingdon, but only a small percentage of riders choose this option. But in contrast to the crowds on the upper Creeper, the lower section offers some quiet and beautiful scenery of its own. Jean and I enjoyed the section enough that on our next two trips to the Creeper, we sprung for the full shuttle packages, getting picked up in Abingdon and then dropped off at Whitetop to ride the full length of the Creeper. Here’s the book-style write up for the lower Creeper, along with a few scanned slides from that era.

Scenery along the trail.

Virginia Creeper, Abingdon to Damascus

Distance: 15.5 miles one way. The Short and Sweet version is 8.7 miles one way. The Extra Credit Ride is 31.0 miles round trip.

Terrain: Easy riding along a converted rail line.

Special Features: South Holston Trestle and scenic countryside.

General Location: The trail connects Abingdon, Virginia on I-81 with Damascus, Virginia on US 58.

Maps: Mount Rogers National Recreation Area Virginia Creeper brochure.

Access: To reach the Abingdon Trailhead take Exit 17 off I-81. Drive north and at 0.2 mile turn right onto Green Springs Road.  At 0.8 mile reach the gravel Abingdon Trailhead which is next to the entrance for Light Milling Company and across the street from a retired North & Western Engine. Restrooms and another small parking lot are available 0.1 mile down the trail.

            To reach the Damascus Trailhead take Exit 19 off I-81 to US 58. Drive east to Damascus and look for a large gravel parking area in the Damascus City Park marked by a red caboose that houses a USFS information station.

The lower section of the Virginia Creeper Trail from Abingdon to Damascus lacks the steeper grades and dramatic vistas of the upper section from Damascus to Whitetop Station. But the lower section is just as pretty, is less used, and has convenient access from I-81. From Abingdon to Alvarado the trail is shaded and relatively cool, making it an especially attractive choice for a hot summer day.

            From Abingdon the trail crosses the Great Knobs, then the River Knobs, two of the long high ridges that make up the Ridge and Valley Geographic Province. After exiting the knobs, the trail follows the Middle Fork of the Holston River to its confluence with the South Fork at a long trestle high above South Holston Lake. From the South Fork Trestle, the Creeper follows first the South Fork of the Holston, then Laurel Creek up to Damascus. Since the low point of the trail is at the South Fork Trestle, the first half of the ride will be a gentle downgrade from Abingdon, and the second half will be a gentle climb into Damascus.

            For those looking to ride one way only, there are several commercial shuttle services in Damascus. By prior arrangement, these operators will pick you up in Abingdon and drop you off in Damascus, or at Whitetop Station, for a small fee.

0.0 Enter the trail by crossing Green Spring Road.

After crossing the first of the trail's 47 trestles, reach another gravel parking area and a restroom provided by the Town of Abingdon. The Creeper starts through a pretty town park. The trail itself is hard packed dirt topped with a light coat of cinders.

0.9 Pass underneath I-81.

Next up is the first of the square concrete mileposts that will track your progress toward Damascus.

1.5 Cross Meadow Drive along a golf course near the intersection with Winterham Drive.

This crossing is protected by a stop light. Be careful to watch for both cars and golf carts.  Beyond the Golf Course the trail enters the Great Knobs and follows the pretty path of Betty Creek.

3.8 Just after crossing long high Trestle 4 over Fifteenmile Creek reach the Watauga Trailhead at VA 677.

This gravel parking area can be reached by driving east on US 58 for 1.3 miles, then driving south for 2.1 miles on VA 677 from I-81 Exit 19.

4.6 Reach Trestle 5 which is a long curved structure suspended over a small creek at the base of the River Knobs.

At Trestle 5 is a large triangular concrete post labelled "A5". You will see other mileposts like this along the trail that mark distances along the Abingdon Branch of the N&W railroad, and which do not match the mileposts used to mark the Virginia Creeper Trail.

5.7 Just before reaching Trestle 7, cross a gravel road surrounded by two gates.

You will cross several more gates and private gravel roads on the way to Damascus. Remember that the public has access to only the narrow corridor of the original rail line. Please respect, and keep off of, private property and remember to close all gates behind you.

7.3 Reach the west end of the South Holston Trestle.

Crossing the Holston Trestle.

Here the Middle Fork of the Holston River joins the South Fork. While the rivers above the confluence flow freely, below the confluence is South Holston Lake, an impoundment created by the Tennessee Valley Authority's South Holston Dam, located just a few miles downstream in Tennessee.

            The trestle also marks the low point of the ride. You have dropped 300 feet in elevation from Abingdon and must gain nearly another 300 feet on the way to Damascus.

Jean on the trestle.

7.8 There is a small picnic area on the bank of the river.

8.7 Cross a paved road in the tiny community of Alvarado.

Alvarado.

For the next two miles the trail will follow a series of roads along the river.

8.8 VA 674 (Denton Valley Road) branches off to the right.

VA 710 will also branch off to the right in 0.4 mile as the Creeper stays parallel to VA 711.

10.5 Just past Trestle 15, cross paved VA 712 which immediately crosses the South Fork of the Holston on a bridge to the north.

Beyond this crossing the trail regains its rural character as it passes through a Riparian Area established by the Green Valley Poultry Farm. The Farm has planted trees and fenced livestock away from the South Fork of the Holston and from the Virginia Creeper Trail in order to enhance water quality in the river, and to improve the trail experience on the Creeper.

12.1 Cross underneath the US 58 Bridge over the South Fork of the Holston at Drowning Ford. Just beyond the crossing is a cable bridge used by hydrologists from the US Geological Survey to measure water flows in the river.

VA 711 leaves US 58 immediately on the east side of the river. From this point the Virginia Creeper will closely follow US 58 into Damascus. You will cross VA 1230, VA 715, and VA 718 along with several other private access roads on your way into town.

15.6 Reach the end of the ride at Damascus Community Park at US 58.

The Park features a red caboose hosting a visitor information center that is operated seasonally by the Mount Rogers National Recreation Area. There are also restrooms, water, a pay phone, picnic tables and a vending machine. The town of Damascus offers a full range of services including restaurants, grocery stores, accommodations, and perhaps more bike shops per capita than any place else in the country. The Community Park is also the spot where the world famous Appalachian Trail first joins the Virginia Creeper on its 2,000 mile journey from Georgia to Maine.

Short and Sweet: For a shorter, mostly downhill trip, ride the 8.7 miles from Abingdon to Alvarado.

For Extra Credit: For a longer, but still mostly downhill ride, get a shuttle to Whitetop Station and ride the full length of the Creeper 33.6 miles down to Abingdon.

Southern Sixers Finish 5-3-2003

I’ve always been a sucker for peak bagging lists. Most of my early hiking in the White Mountains was in pursuit of the New Hampshire 4,000 footers. Then with my move out west, I turned toward climbing the high points of the western states. But when I moved to Tennessee in 1993 things were different. Maybe it’s because the mountains here seldom have views and often lack trails, but the interest in peak bagging just isn’t there. But just because the peak bagging flies well under the radar, it doesn’t mean it’s still not a ton of fun.

The South Beyond 6000 (SB6K) (also, aka Southern Sixers) was organized in the late 1960s by representatives of the Carolina Mountain Club (CMC), Tennessee Eastman Hiking and Canoeing Club, and the Smoky Mountains Hiking Club. The CMC  is the lead organization, and seems to have the most active members. The group assembled a handbook for hikers in 1997, and that same year a self-published guidebook by Ron Tagiapietra was also released. Completions of the Sixers have been continuous since then, if not frequent. In 2019, for example there were only four new finishers.

All of the 40 peaks, excepting Mt LeConte, are in North Carolina, or on the TN-NC border. The peaks cluster in five groups; the Smokies, the Black Mountains around Mt Mitchell, the Great Balsams along the Blue Ridge Parkway, Roan Mountain, and the much less known Plott Balsams.

I had a small head start on the peaks from completing the Appalachian Trail in 1976, which gave me a few of the summits in the Smokies, plus Roan Mountain. My first real foray into the Sixers was in 1995 when I hiked the Black Mountain Crest Trail north of Mt Mitchell to get seven new peaks in that range. In 1996 Jean and I visited Roan Mountain and we climbed the three other sixers in the range.  In 1997 I climbed several of the Smokies sixers around the Tricorner Knob on a solo trip. This was after an errant trip on Mt Guyot where a friend and I mistakenly climbed the false summit on the north side of the peak instead of the true summit. In 1998 Jean and I climbed the rest of the Black Mountains along the Parkway. I picked up most of the peaks in the Great Balsams on backpacking trips to the Shining Rock and Middle Prong wildernesses.

By 2000 I was getting close, but still had not ventured into the Plott Balsams. The handbook descriptions for those peaks sounded complicated, and I wasn’t sure if my off trail skills would be up to the challenge. The descriptions in the published guidebook for off trail routes tended to boil down to “just follow the flagging”, and I’d notice that every year that got just a little more difficult as fewer hikers left flagging. Fortunately, I found a CMC club hike that I could join and was able to hike Waterrock Knob, Jones Knob, and Plott Balsam with them in 2000. The next year I did the same thing, and hiked up to Yellow Face with the CMC. On that hike I learned that the very recent tracks that I had followed the previous day on Reinhart Knob and Richland Balsam had been from the same group.

Despite being close to finished, I wasn’t moving to fast to close things out. I hiked up Big Cataloochee in 2002 (see hiramrunhikebike.blogspot.com/2002/), leaving Marks Knob in the Smokies as my final climb.

Finally, I set up an early May 2003 trip for Marks Knob. Joining me were two off trailing friends Mark and Iron Mike. Both had a lot of off trail experience, but little interest in bagging all the Sixers. Our plan was to hike in from Cosby 11 miles via Snake Den Ridge, the Appalachian Trail, the Balsam Mountain Trail, with a bit over a mile of bushwhacking at the end. We started about 8;15 and despite being early in the season had a muggy climb up Snake Den Ridge Trail. But the climb was broken up by patches of painted trillium and Fraser’s Sedge. Up on the AT it was early spring again with cool dry air and the flowers not yet opened. We passed two hikers near the north base of Guyot. We had a quick chat and I warned not to make the same mistake with the false summit that I had. We saw orange ribbons going up Old Black, and on the west side of Guyot, presumably marking climbers trails. It is worth noting that the SB6 is trying to discourage the flagging of routes on the peaks as that is not consistent with Leave No Trace hiking.

Our route up Marks Knob in red dashed.

By 1:30 we were ready to leave the Balsam Mountain Trail for the off trail route to Marks Knob. Most of the Smokies Sixers (for example Chapman, Tricorner, or Luftee Knob) are relatively short bushwhacks, but Marks requires the longest bushwhack. We started along an abandoned trail, formerly part of the Hyatt Ridge Trail that was closed probably back in the 1960s. In 2003, the old trail was fairly open and clear enough to follow with a couple generations of old flagging. There were a few blowdowns, but the summer’s annual blackberry growth had not yet started. We followed the manway for about an hour around Mt Hardison, swung south of Marks, then  headed cross country for the summit guided by the compass and instinct. 2003 was in the early days of GPS for me, so I didn’t bring my Garmin. Mike’s waypoints for the hike hadn’t loaded, so his Garmin was useless, and Mark as of 2020 still doesn’t use GPS. On top of that, I’d discarded some equipment just before the start of the hike to lose weight, inadvertently leaving my map behind as well. At least the others had maps.

The old trail along Hyatt Ridge in dotted black.

There were no markings on the summit when we went over the top of Marks. We weren’t 100% sure we’d hit the summit until we went up and over the northern subpeak. We celebrated by spending about 20 minutes on lunch and then bushwhacked west back down to the old Hyatt Ridge Trail. Three hours after leaving it, we were back to the Balsam Mountain Trail. It was a long haul back to the car, but we were back to the Cosby Trailhead by 8:45 without needing to use the headlamps.

So, 27 years after climbing Clingmans Dome on the AT I had finally finished the SB6. It is worth noting that the CMC lists the current record for completing the peaks in one continuous trip as 4 days, 14 hours, and 38 minutes, set by ultrarunner Matt Kirk in 2010. Matt was able to actually run some of the old Hyatt Ridge Trail on his trip. Here’s a link to his blog post about the run: https://matthewkirk.blogspot.com/2010/  To complete the circle I should note that Matt was chasing the record set in 2003 by Ted “Cave  Dog” Keizer. Cave Dog also went on to finish Barkley in 2003. Matt and I both later competed at Barkley.

2-22-03, Mount Mitchell Challenge 40 mile

The story of this run was the weather. As race day approached it was apparent that we would have a major storm. 4-5” had fallen the previous weekend, and there was another light rain midweek. The prerace forecast called for heavy rain on Saturday morning, then strong winds with temperatures dropping to freezing. Definitely not fun, and not fast either!

After running the race in 2001, and having two marathon finishes in 1999 and 2002, I felt confident in my training. My major project in 2002 had been scouting all the rides for my Blue Ridge/Smokies bike guide. But I still had done lots of hiking, backpacking, and running, including three 20+ mile runs in the Smokies leading up to the race. Jean and I would stay in the Black Mountain Super 8, and Steven was running the race again. I have no pictures or GPS track from the race.

There was heavy rain before dawn on Saturday, but the temperatures were relatively warm. I wore tights, short and long sleeved polypro shirts, glove liners, and my old green backpacking raincoat (before I discovered the Marmot Precip jacket). Any dryness was temporary as we got wet feet almost instantly from the water sheeting down the streets of Black Mountain. The start was slow, and the first two aid stations were missing. I supposed that the volunteers had more sense than the runners.

The 2003 Mount Mitchell Challenge map.

The Montreat College trails were soggy, but the trail tread was in good shape. I wore Smartwool socks, but was still trying to keep my feet out of the water. Forty miles of soaked feet was a perfect recipe for blisters. By the time we reached the Old Toll Road we found patches of old snow. Beyond Bill’s Knob the trail got rockier and had a lot more water. A few sections were like running up a small stream. When the trail was off the crest we could see water shooting off the nearby slopes. Farther up, the surface was glazed with patchy ice, and the less cautious runners started going down. The last half mile toward the Parkway was especially treacherous with water soaked snow mixed with flumes of 6” deep water over glazed ice. By then both my feet were numb.

At the marathon turnaround they told us about the course change! Instead of running the Mount Mitchell trails, we would run out and back on the Blue Ridge Parkway and NC 128 on the road to the tower. Normally, I’d be disappointed in missing the crux challenge of a race, but even 20 years later I can still recall the joy of being told about this relocation. The standard course is wet under the best of conditions, and it turned out that the race team had been unable to get anyone out to the last aid station.

The hard rain ended about that time, to be replaced by thick fog. I walked all of the steep climb to Steppes Gap on NC 128, and then found some gentler grades to run before the final steep climb to the parking area for the summit tower. The entire time runoff was sheeting down the road. I had a quick turnaround at the tower at about 4:26 race time.

I ran most of the way down to Steppes Gap, but then both knees began to hurt a lot. I ran NC 128 mostly because I was afraid of the wind and cold up high. I was passed about 6 times before the Parkway, and by a few more times on the Old Toll Road.

This time my knee pain did not subside. I walked the entire section between the BRP and Montreat and still could not control it. But, with the rain stopped, there wasn’t as much water on the trails.

I had to walk backward down the steep paved road into Montreat (not the first time for that strategy on that road). I lost about 8 places on the steep section. Luckily I could run most of the last three miles from the aid station in Montreat. My splits were Bills Knob at 6:35 and Montreat at about 8:05. I lost a few more places before the finish, but was able to pass one person running around the lake.

My finish time was 8:44, good for the conditions, but not for the easier course. I was 61/76, similar to my 2001 race. Steven finished in 9:15.

This race prompted a major change in my running. With my IT Band Syndrome reoccurring in almost every long race I knew it was a bad idea to focus on a race with a 13 (or 20) mile long downhill run at the end. I’d had too much pain on the steep descents late in this course to want to come back again. And a new alternative was revealed. Steven ran the Barkley Marathons in 2002, and survived with great stories to tell about this then obscure race. To me, it seemed more like an adventure race than a trail run, and I wondered if this would be a better fit for my creaky knees. I typically had no issues hiking downhill, and wondered if, counterintuitively, the extremely steep downhill hiking at Barkley might allow me to avoid the knee pain I experienced on runnable downhills in conventional ultras. Luckily I was able to confirm that idea in my Barkley debut in 2004. I’d still come back to Black Mountain for the marathon in 2006, but otherwise my focus for racing changed from Black Mountain/Mount Mitchell to the Barkley.