Mount Rogers or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Cold
I checked the weather 2 days before the trip and cursed out loud. The projected temperatures had been dropping every day, and the low for Saturday night now hovered in the mid-20s. I was going to be spending the night at an elevation of over 1 mile, and this was getting dangerously close to my gear’s lower limit. For a moment, I began to seriously consider cancelling the trip.
My inner doomsayer wrestled with these frigid conditions. How much colder would it be on top of the mountain? What about wind chill? My disdain for the cold is something I make no effort to hide. At the end of the day, though, the recent excessive work weeks recently had forged a urgency to get out in nature and decompress. So early Friday morning, I began the long drive to southwest Virginia to climb my state’s tallest mountain — Mount Rogers.
I picked Mount Rogers without knowing much about it, mainly because of the primal egotism that comes with climbing the tallest anything. It’s a feeling I indulged in earlier in the year in Ireland. My compatriots and I spent 3 weeks hiking increasingly taller and more difficult mountains and hill trails after long nights at the pub and little sleep. It was exhausting, grueling, and most importantly, immensely fun. I wanted to re-capture some of this satisfaction.
I arrived at the Grindstone Campground by mid-afternoon, and hit the trail hard in an effort to reach the campsite before dark. Day 1 was slated for 6 miles, so I would be cutting it close. The first 4–5 miles looked like most trails in the Appalachian Mountains without much to see. The real beauty of this area, though, comes at the higher elevations. As I crossed above 5,000 feet, I walked out into a open field which looked down upon an area called Deep Gap. There were almost no trees visible along the entire the windblown landscape, and it was the first of many breathtaking views.
I continued along the ridge line to the Thomas Knob Shelter, my stop for the evening. The shelter sits at 5,400 feet, right below the summit of Mount Rogers. The sun was just beginning to set, so I hurried to find an open spot away from the groups, set up camp, and cook some dinner. I managed to find a spot below the ridge in a group of trees, in an effort to avoid the wind. As the sun went down, the temperature plummeted faster than I could have imagined. I boiled some water for my freeze-dried meal as quickly as possible, and finished my food shivering.
I’m not going to say that this was the most uncomfortable night’s sleep I’ve ever had, but it certainly was up there. The cold kept finding ways into my sleeping bag, and I could feel my body heat draining through my sleeping pad into the ground. I woke up countless times, but finally ended up getting a little bit of sleep.
I woke up right at dawn, and made the decision that I would skip the second night of camping, and hike the entire 15 miles back to the car. The 2nd night was scheduled to be even colder than the first, and I had serious safety concerns at this point. I started off with a short hike up the spur trail up to the Mount Rogers summit. There isn’t actually a view from the summit, but I felt that I needed to stand on top of Virginia for bragging rights alone. The summit is covered with a small forest of spruce and fir trees, which are apparently remnants from the last Ice Age. The forest looks and feels ghostly, unlike anything I’ve ever seen in Virginia.
After the brief trip to summit, I continued along the Appalachian Trail along the barren Wilburn Ridge. This section especially reminded me of the hill walks of Ireland, a mixture of resilient grass and brush. Within an hour of walking, I came across a surprise: hanging out in the middle of the path was a wild pony, the first of many I’d see throughout the day. Continuing along, I took the opportunity to take a side trail along a brief boulder scramble, and soon was inside Grayson Highlands State Park. The state park serves as the home for the wild ponies in the area. The trail was very flat and even through the park, and served as a bit of a respite.
By lunchtime, I had reached another AT shelter, and stopped for some food, a water refill from a nearby spring, and a few pictures with the ponies. Looking at my topographic map, I made the call to shave a few miles off my journey and hike up a valley trail shortcut rather than continue along the AT. This decision led to the scariest encounter of the trip. As I reached the top of the valley, I stumbled upon a lone bull from a nearby farm who had been wandering. He didn’t look particularly happy to see me, and started heading my direction. I stared him down, and slowly backed away and down the hill until he was out of sight. I took a 10 minute break, and luckily he had moved along as I continued.
I continued my long descent, passing my planned camping spot for the 2nd night (Old Orchard Shelter). At this point, I was exhausted and slightly injured from the number of twisted ankles I had taken. My sole focus was on trudging back to the car. After another quick shortcut through a fire trail, my last couple of miles led alongside the main road to the campground.
This certainly didn’t end up being the trip I had originally planned. 2 nights shortened into 1. Little time to pause and enjoy the surroundings or read/write like I had originally planned. But 21 miles of hiking in around 24 hours ended up being a physical accomplishment in itself. Either way, I will be returning to spend more time in this breathtaking part of Virginia as soon as the temperatures rise this spring.
Some of the boring notes/details:
- It was cold. Really cold. My title is a lie. I still hate the cold.
- I chose to roughly follow the Hiking Upward Mt. Rogers/Wilburn Ridge hike. I did the route in reverse, in an attempt to avoid spending the colder night at higher elevation, as well as covering most of the uphill sections in the first day. This ended up being a great decision, and made my long 2nd day a little bit easier.
- I used my newly purchased Kelty Ignite 20 sleeping bag for this trip. I pushed up pretty close to the temperature limit. I discovered after the trip, though, that my inflatable sleeping pad has almost no insulation ability. When I do some autumn/winter camping again, I will need to upgrade here.
- Anybody who knows me knows that I am constantly rolling my ankles. My ankles were in rough shape after this hike. I used my North Face trail running shoes and a scavenged walking stick for support, but going forward I need either proper trekking poles or boots that offer a little more protection.
- I brought along the National Geographic topographic map and a compass to navigate rather than GPS. Old school is the way to go!
