The Blue Ridge Relay (BRR) is a 208ish-mile running relay from Grayson Highlands State Park in Virginia to downtown Asheville, North Carolina. The relay hosts 180 teams of 4 to 12 people who run a total of 36 legs ranging from 2.5 to 10.5 miles per leg over the course of a day and a half.
This year marked my fourth time running the BRR with Team GOFAR. It would have been my fifth, but I missed last year due to an “unexcused absence” (I had shoulder surgery). Lucky for me, there aren’t many people in the area who want to endure two days in a van with sweaty runners and their equally odorous belongings.
My buddy, Coop, was a couple of months from joining the brotherhood of fatherhood. To celebrate (and because it’d probably be a while before we’d be able to go out again) we plotted a course for Apple Orchards Falls; a destination that would keep him close to home, but far enough away from civilization.
For our annual winter backpacking trip, my buddy, Coop, and I decided on Mt. Rogers Recreation Area. We’d been there in 2011 when we hit up Grayson Highlands to see the wild horses. It’s a great place with great views, and it’s also home to the highest point in Virginia. What makes Mt. Rogers Area a particularly good spot for the winter is the number of trails through and around the area. A must when weather forces routes to change. Something that often happens at Mt. Rogers where winds and temps are known to change in minutes.
Still, we opted to plan our trip ambitiously and play the rest by ear.
Just past the Northern Knoll of Three Ridges looking at The Priest
I’ve been itching to go backpacking since my July trip to Panthertown Valley. Four months later, and just two months after shoulder surgery, I got to scratch my itch in the Three Ridges Wilderness, located in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forests. My buddy, Coop, mapped out a sweet 20-mile hike with elevations ranging from 1,000′ to 3,790′ at the summit of Three Ridges Mountain.
Atop Little Green Mountain overlooking Panthertown Valley
I’ve been tent backpacking for several years and it wasn’t until a recent trip to Tsali Rec Area that I began to consider the alternatives. A list which includes: on the ground, on the ground with a tarp, or above the ground in a hammock.
I’ve slept on the ground in a sleeping bag. It was fine, but the conditions were ideal (i.e. moderate temps, no bugs, and we were on a bald with little wind). However, I had not crossed off tarp or hammock from my backpacking bucket list.
At Tsali, I noticed a lot of people choosing hammocks over tents. Curious, I asked one camper to let me give their hammock a try. It seemed comfortable enough that I thought I could use a hammock on a future backpacking trip. To the Googles!
Turns out, hammocks aren’t all that expensive. Prices ranged from $40 on up to $200 depending on material. I also found that most backpackers recommended using a bug net, rain fly, and sleeping pad along with a bag, quilt, blanket, or bivy. So let me back up. The hammock is between $40 and $200 while the accessories to keep bugs out, rain off, and heat in will collectively run you an additional $400-$600.
I also took a close look at the weight difference between a tent and a hammock. My REI Quarter Dome T1 tent with footprint, poles, stakes, and rainfly weighs 3 pounds 10 ounces. The ENO DoubleNest Hammock (19 oz), bug net (16 oz), rain fly (22 oz), straps (11 oz), and stakes (2.8 oz) weigh in at 4 pounds 4 ounces. Six ounces isn’t a lot, and in the winter months I’d be 16 ounces lighter since I wouldn’t need a bug net. Plus, factoring in how a hammock packs compared to how a tent packs, I was sold on giving the hammock a chance.
With coupon in hand, I purchased an ENO DoubleNest and the above accessories from the local big box store, and gave it a whirl at a family car camping trip a few days later. Set up was a breeze and sleeping was, in my opinion, better than in a tent. I took the hammock with me on a couple day trips with my son and he loved it as much as I did. The real test, however, would come in an upcoming backpacking trip to Panthertown Valley in the southern Appalachian Mountains.
My buddy, Coop, and I have backpacked during the winter months for a few years now. Shining Rock in Western North Carolina, Roan Mountain along the Tennessee-North Carolina border, and most recently Dolly Sods in West Virginia.
We hadn’t traveled north for a winter hike, and it’d be a test for us as Dolly Sods is notorious for year-long crazy weather with an average annual snowfall of 55″. As he always does, Coop researched potential routes and came across White Grass Cross Country Ski Area, a cross country skiing and snowshoeing business in Davis, WV. He emailed Chip, the dude in charge, who kept Coop in the loop about weather and gear (including $15/day snowshoe rental).
Our intent was to park at White Grass and take the Timberline trail to Forest Road 80 where we’d huff it up to 524 Rocky Ridge. From there we’d head east on 511 Blackbird Knob, camp at the intersection of Blackbird and Upper Red Creek, and then head up to Dobbin where we’d join up with Rocky Ridge which would take us back to our car. A fairly straightforward 3-day, 15.5 mile trip. However, thanks to the wintry weather, the actual route we hiked was a slightly different.
2/23/10, 6AM, Day 4: Our watch alarms go off at 6AM. Daybreak is nearing. Time to break camp, fill bottles, drink coffee, and plot our course. With plenty of sunlight, we can see how to avoid the thickest patches and travel the safest route down the mountain. The downside? The slopes are steep, there’s 3 feet of snow on the ground, there are fallen trees everywhere, and to top it off, there are coyote, bobcat, and mountain lion tracks on both sides of the creek.
2/22/10, 2AM, Day 3 Part 2: Just moments ago Search and Rescue (SNR) told us we were on our own. So much for being airlifted on a chopper. Wonder if we’d have to pay for an air rescue. Not that it matters though. According to SNR, we have to keep walking in the direction we’re headed (which we don’t know). The trail will get steep (i.e. “just shy of cliff.”) And, once we cross the valley and climb the slope we’ll be on Old Butt Knob (maybe). Is that all? Well, shoot. Honey, set me a plate. I’ll be home in a few.
CHRIS: Dude, this totally blows. Let’s get off this mountain before the weather hits.
2/22/10, 2AM, Day 3: Morning comes sooner than expected. At 2AM rain starts to fall. At 4:15AM sleet begins to accumulate. By 6AM our tent domes sag thanks to a fresh 5 inches of sleet and snow. Thanks weatherman. Any hope of following tracks are gone. The 3 feet of snow is now 3 and a half feet. Looks like we are going to have to posthole our way down the mountain. I’m not sure about you, but when I have to lift my leg to my ear 400 hundred times in a row, I get tired. Eventually we find a clearing. Clouds settle in bringing visibility down to about 10 feet. Compass says we need to go up the mountain through all the rhododendrons. Seriously, who’s in charge of landscaping around here? We melt snow to fill our bottles and bladders, and use the surplus for a cup of coffee.
The pu-pu platter of whiteout, waist-deep snow, and bobcat tracks make choosing the correct path difficult. We choose a path that takes us through rhododendrons (a.k.a. the vineys) for a good quarter mile.
2/21/10, 6:00AM, Day 2: Sun up at 6AM. Oatmeal and coffee are the morning’s priorities. I break down my tent and fill up on water—not sure how long the creek will follow us up the mountain. By 7AM, Coop and Bigfoot wake and join me at the fire pit. Photo ops take up a few minutes after breakfast. Bigfoot tries out my poles out of curiosity. At 9AM it’s time to gear up. Coop and I part ways with Bigfoot and continue up the trail. Nice to be hiking on an actual trail. For the first hundred yards it’s hard-packed snow. After that, we’re off trail and following Bigfoot’s tracks from the previous day.
