As you may know, DO offers Trip Leader Training courses each semester. I am part of that adventure and therefore spent my fall break climbing up (and sliding down) Mt. Mitchell in Pisgah National Forest. It was the second of three trips testing our fortitude, leadership and MSR stove rescuing talents.
I admit, I had some trepidation about the 4-day adventure. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to keep up with the group, and I had no idea what the group dynamic would be like. After being (un)ceremoniously appointed LoD (leader of the day in lay terms) I decided to try to nurture a positive environment within the group. That, and hide the fact that half the time I hadn’t the slightest clue what I was doing. As for my success… you’ll have to ask my crew-mates.
In camp that night we discovered that:
A.) hanging food to keep bears away isn’t as easy as Jack Goffinet makes it look,
B.) we’d brought the wrong tent poles, and
C.) one of our trusty stoves wasn’t so trusty.
We overcame all this and slept fitfully enough. The next morning we headed for the summit of Mt. Mitchell. It had been cloudy, was cloudy and would be cloudy all day. At the highest point east of the Mississippi we gazed out over nearby trees into a great white bank of fog. Nothing. Only white. We continued down the not-so-impressive-mountain. Our five-person crew met up with the rest of the class (also divided into five-person crews all hiking separately) in the appropriately named Deep Gap campground. There was much camaraderie, a lesson on hypothermic burrito wrapping and conjecture on hammock camping.
We rolled out of bed the next morning, made peace with the temperamental stove and had backcountry pancake breakfast under wistful gazes from the other crews. After breakfast we hiked up-hill to a saw-toothed ridgeline, shrouded in mist and mysteriousness. As the sun rose higher the fog lifted, revealing a patchwork of crimson, gold and green trees spread across a valley. It made up for the lackluster view from Mitchell’s summit.
Camp was a grassy slope where we found a pair of hunting dogs and a golf club in a tree. We crouched on rocks to cook dinner, trying to shield our at last agreeable stove from wind. Amid difficult conditions we still executed perfect scrambled brownies and mac & cheese.
The last morning we staggered out into 5:45am dark, accompanied by rain and wind. After breakfast we began the long hike down or, more accurately, slide down. The steep slope was washed with mud and it continued to rain all day. We half slid, half walked down in remarkably high spirits.
All pretense of dignity aside, each muddy fall was hilarious. The wilderness has a remarkable way of doing that. We all made it back to campus, carrying wet clothes, tons of dirt, a little more humility and a fantastic weekend of tales from Mt. Mitchell.