Black and Blue (mountains)

I have arrived at Mecca (or some upper-middle class, ecologically-awakened version of it). I have had fabulous (non-raining, above-freezing) weather most of the last week and a half, since Boone. The mountains have been higher (a couple above 6,000 feet!). The trails have been charmingly full of dayhikers, some of whom have really funny responses to me being out there. "Alone?" is popular, "You out for the weekend?" is another understandable question, and my personal favorite, "Are you okay?"

Am I okay? Why would you ask me that? Do I look bedraggled - has my greasy braided hair become untethered? Do my scrapped legs look like I have recently been in a scuffle with a mountain lion? Or worse of all - have my eyes begun to lose their remnant look of civilized sanity, have I developed the feral animal, HIKER STARE? Maybe, all possibilities. Or maybe "are you okay?" is another version of "how are ya'll?"

The trails have been designed with care, by I believe the Carolina Mountain Club, and they have been clear of brush mostly, whether from avoiding the high winds/ ice storm wreckage, careful maintainence, or more frequent use by dayhikers. Whatever the reason, I appreciate it.

And a grizzly little trail story to whet your hiker-tale appetite:
The weather on Sunday was gross. Fog, cold, rain, wind: recipe for misery. I will never forget the night before Katahdin in 06, in the shelter just south of Baxter with Buree and Roo, when Buree revealed to me one thing that she had learned about herself from the trail: "I do not like hiking in the rain." That has made me smile a lot on this trip. I also do not like hiking in the rain. Period, finito. But I did, 12 miles through the fog and up to the Craggy Mountain picnic pavilion. Where in the blustery fog, I set up my tent and weighted down the stakes with big stones and hoped for no tornadoes, 5,500 feet above sea level. I hunkered down for all afternoon and night, from 1:30 pm to 8:00 am, eating peanut butter and jelly (one of my only excess foods) by the spoonful, and listening to bluegrass on the radio. As it got dark, the rain poured outside, and there were two very very close strikes of brilliant pink lightening before the storm swept past. I drifted to sleep, and woke again at 4 am with the howling of coyotes across the mountains, one from nearby. At dawn, I woke in the calm morning to survey the weather. There was a spectacular, clear sky with clouds skirting the horizon and sunlight leaking through. Walking to a better view, I got within 10 yards of a coyote.

Just another day living. And now, for some serious town time.

Total MST miles: 517.3 (357.0 foot, 169.3 bike)
Total trip miles: 634.9 (393.8 foot, 238.1 bike)