The essence of mountain living (sort of) & Sam Knob.

I'm starting to fall in love with this land, the sheer energy of it and the protectiveness of the elder spirits of the mountains. Yesterday promised to be in the 90's so I loaded up Kali & appropriate hiking gear into the car. We headed east on Smokey Park Highway just about 2 miles to the junction with route 151. It starts of broad and rolling through the Hominy Valley, past farms & fields and old country churches before ever-so-subtly beginning to climb. It winds past B&B's, more churches, an elementary school & fire station, a couple RV parks mostly empty this early in the season. All of a sudden, the road narrows. The sign on the right reads "windy, mountain road" and then starts a series of three dozen or more switchbacks and corkscrew turns, climbing sharply, the Subaru in 2nd gear the whole time. The temperature begins to drop and the sharp & tangy Bluegrass tunes playing on WNCW in the car ping off the cliffsides and bounce down the valleys. Joy is what I feel. Freedom is germinating. We climb ever higher for 15 minutes until the sign, "Blue Ridge Parkway." We hop on, heading south towards Mt. Pisgah, driving swiftly past there for another 12 miles to Forest Road 816, otherwise known as the Black Balsam Knob access road. But, that's not where we were going.

We passed the dozens of cars parked on the right after about a mile and kept going til the end, to the Sam Knob trailhead. And, what a glorious trail it was, reminding me of the Alpine meadows and edge-clinging paths of Mt Rainier. The trail was very reminiscent of the Northwest in many ways, being highly forested with evergreens in places, streams and creeks flowing all around. We climbed a moderately steep way up to the summit of Sam Knob, a rock-covered platform surrounded by butterflies and flowers with views of other peaks in every direction. At the peak, it is 6050 feet above sea level. Every step was a joy, every glimpse brought a smile to my lips and a song to my heart. Then, we made our way back down to the open, grassy meadow to the junction with the Flat Laurel Trail which was supposed to create the remainder of a 3.6 mile loops. Except, I made a mistake. We cut across the flowing creek - more like a narrow river - and I lost my bearings.

I read the sign carefully. I swear I did. Only I must not have. With renewed vigor, we plunged down the trail. It sure didn't seem like .9 to the parking lot. We should have reached the parking lot. I got a little panicky, began hoarding water and mentally going through the contents of my backpack as the sky got darker and a storm began to blow in. The temperature dropped a good 10 degrees at least. Yes, I had matches. Rain poncho, check. Space blanket, check. Extra food, sort of check. Compass, er, nope. Extra water, um, nope. On and on through my pack as we walked & walked and I chided myself for not following my own best guidance a little better. I hadn't brought my brand new, very clear National Geographic map of Pisgah Nat'l Forest. It was sitting on the passenger seat of my car. I had a small photocopy of a map from the book. Every dozen steps or so, I pulled it out again and re-examined. The route I now felt we were on was not listed on my map but then, we were no longer on the trail it was meant to depict. We passed beautiful waterfalls as I rehearsed my survival strategy (stay put, don't wander off the trail) and thanked my inner hiker for informing my sister of where we were headed. When was the last time I'd gotten lost hiking.... I think it was on part of the Appalachian Trail (the "AT" as they call it here) with my sister in Pennsylvania about 20 years ago. As we walked, I could hear the parkway so I knew we weren't too far from humanity. I imagined the top story on the news as they pulled us out...."middle aged wannabe wilderness woman and crazy dog survive a cold night in one of the highest elevation areas off the parkway; how'd they do it? tune in at 11." Eventually, we saw a family hiking and I was so thrilled to see them, I almost ran up and hugged them. They confirmed my fears. I had screwed up and we were about 6 miles off course.

Eventually, exhausted & thirsty, we came to a widening of the trail across the creek to some campsites which lead to a road. Down that road about 1 1/2 hilly miles was the parkway. Then it was 3 miles to the access road and another 1.5 miles to the car. So, we did what any lame trail sign reader would do - we hitched. An old beat up red pickup let us scramble into the back and up the steep incline to the parkway we rode, bouncing along, doing what I've cursed many people for doing in the past - riding in the back of a pickup with a dog. They dropped us off at the entrance to the parkway and we began walking in the direction I hoped was north. Some people felt sorry for us, or, rather, for Kali and tossed some water bottles out the car window towards us. It was right around then that I got stung by something. Was it a bee? I'm allergic to bees. Yes, I had my epi pen. Was I feeling short of breath or was that just the pitch of the parkway? Was I feeling dizzy or was that just the lack of sufficient water in the midday heat? We ambled along. I started crying softly, cursing myself and making a list of the lessons I had already learned from this (bring MORE water, bring the good map, get a bigger backpack so I can fit everything, bring MORE food, check the signs more carefully, ask people if in doubt, get a fucking compass you idiot!). Lots of motorcycles whizzed by. They definitely couldn't give us a ride. Then I saw a beige Kia coming towards us. I stuck my thumb out. Then, on second thought, brought my palms together near my heart, praying they would stop. They did! Two Asian women from Jackson, TN on their first trip to the area. They were afraid of dogs but let us in anyhow and drove us the my car with me repeating "thank you" over and over.

Then, we climbed into the Outback, cranked up the air conditioning, thanked my lucky stars and elder mountain spirits and twisted our way back down the mountain into the 20 degree warmer heat and headed home.

A perfect day.