Man Versus Hurricane. Hurricane Wins.
MST. Chapter 38. Segment 4
This is my serialized story of hiking the Mountains-to-Sea Trail (MST), a 1,175-mile route that crosses the state of North Carolina. I’m hiking west from Jockey’s Ridge near Nags Head on the Outer Banks of the Atlantic Ocean to Kuwohi (formerly Clingmans Dome) near the Tennessee border in the Great Smoky Mountains. If you’d like to start at the beginning of my story, click here.
See the Mountains-to-Sea map at the bottom for reference.
The forecast on Sunday calls for rain and it’s projected to get worse as the week progresses. My week. I planned to hike this week as part of my Mountains-to-Sea adventure. My goal is to take on—in one fell swoop—the seventy-seven miles of Segment Four. This hike goes from Grandfather Mountain State Park just below Blowing Rock to the Black Mountain Campground, miles below Linville Gorge deep in the northeastern mountain range within the Pisgah National Forest.
I’ve been thinking about this hike for sometime now. I will be crossing a number of tough mountains and tight valleys in the Pisgah Forest—an historic 500,000 acre wilderness area (and the first protected forest in the eastern U.S.). In addition to preparing to traverse the Black Mountain Range, I can’t take for granted the numerous streams and rivers I’ll have to ford along the way.
Okay. Even with this rain, there’s a side of me that is prepared to step into the breach and simply see what happens, i.e. hike the trail come what may. At this point I have already walked fourteen of the eighteen segments of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail, and now that I am working my way through the North Carolina mountains, I can’t help but think, “How hard can this segment be?” I am down to my last two hundred and fifty miles of my 1,175 mile adventure, and, weather-wise, I feel like I have already experienced it all. Rain be damned!
On the other hand, my gut is telling me not to take this hike lightly. From the map I googled on the Black Mountain Range, I can see that this will likely be the toughest thru-hike I have tackled to date. I need to be prepared both in terms of my mental fortitude as well as my physical well being—am I up for this?…especially in the rain? I’ll have some serious climbing in the week ahead—which even in good weather will be a challenge. In rain—oh, the rain—the trail will likely be dicey—a slick and muddy affair.
My plan on Tuesday is to drive in the rain three hours to the Black Mountain Campground, the western terminus of Segment Four (located thirty miles above Interstate 40 and twenty-five miles east of Asheville). Here I will camp for the night and, then, leave my car for the remainder of the week.
Early Wednesday morning, I’ve arranged for a Trail Angel to drive me to Beacon Heights, the start of Segment Four in Grandfather Mountain State Park. It’s about two hours away by car. My hike—upon entering the forest in the rain at Beacon Heights—will take at least five days before I walk out of the woods on Sunday back at my car. That’s if I can maintain my pace of hiking fifteen miles a day. If I slow down due to the weather, the steep mountain grades, or in crossing the various swollen streams and rivers, I literally could need more time, like seven to ten days to make it through.
For the first time I am on my own—with no state or private campgrounds to reach and no motels nearby. Rather, for me, each night will consist of primitive camping with the issues therein. Think bears. Are they hungrier in rain?
I’ve packed sufficient dehydrated meals in my bear sack to thwart snooping predators, but I can’t carry as much water as I’ll need to get through the week. Rather, if not syphoning the rain, I must find water sources on the trail to stay hydrated, realizing that some sections, I have been told, will be tougher than others when it comes to replenishing my water bottles.
I expect no internet or cell service, but will carry my Garmin InReach GPS unit to communicate via satellite with my wife Karen and daughter Helen. Though, in heavy cloud cover, I am not totally sure how well the Gamin will work. Guess I’ll find out.
To reduce the weight of my pack overall, I’m carrying less clothing. I’ll take a lightweight, backpacker raincoat, an extra tee shirt, and a hoodie (for the cold and to serve as a pillow at night), but essentially, I only want socks—plenty of socks to keep my feet dry in crossing the various streams or rivers I encounter along the way.
This is all very exciting, of course, and something I have looked forward to since the start of my hike so many months ago when I began by walking the beaches on North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Segment Four would be the start of the final four-segment conclusion to my incredible adventure.
Still, hiking in driving rain that I can see is projected to get worse in the course of the week is a bit unusual. It will take all of my strength (and then some) to pull this off.
Karen asks if I am aware that forecasters are calling for a hurricane to hit Western North Carolina late in the day on Thursday. Won’t I be deep in the Pisgah Forest at that time? She says they’re estimating Hurricane Helene will cross over the very mountains where I’ll be hiking. She is adamant that I should wait a week.
If days of pouring rain isn’t a strong enough reason to stay home, I guess, then this bit of bad news is the final straw.
Fine. I’ll stay home, I say, especially, if it is likely I will not make it out alive.
It’s a funny thing, hiking the Mountains-to-Sea Trail in segments. In fact, this is one time, in particular, when waiting a week to take on a new segment will save me from what could have dire consequences. I can’t imagine my fate if I went ahead with the fury of a hurricane coming right at me. Still, I remind Karen, hiking through a hurricane on Thursday and Friday would have made for one heck of a good story.
Now, looking back, I am in a situation where so many of the roads in Western North Carolina are closed. The Pisgah National Forest is closed. The state parks, like Grandfather Mountain State Park, are closed, as are all the campgrounds, such as at Black Mountain. The Great Smoky Mountains National Park is closed as is the southern third of the Appalachian Trail. The Mountains-to-Sea Trail is also closed from Stone Mountain to the end of the trail at Kuwohi (formerly Clingmans Dome) on the Tennessee border. Clearly, even for hikers, the impact of the hurricane has been so much worse than anyone expected.
Given the devastation in the western counties of the state, it is hard to imagine the MST opening before the spring of 2025 if not sometime next summer.
So, I must recognize in turn, my Mountains-to-Sea narrative has abruptly come to an end—at least for the time being. In man versus the hurricane, the hurricane has definitely won. At least temporarily, I am stopped in my tracks.
I thank you for reading my ongoing posts, and I hope in the not-to-distant future I can continue my tale to bring this saga to its natural conclusion. Until then, I’ll look for other hikes to share with you, and, perhaps, a “Jon Jon” story or two, or even, maybe, take you back to a time when I found myself—much to my dismay—running with world class athletes in the Chicago, New York and Boston marathons (!!!).
If you would like to help the people of Western North Carolina, here are some links I received from the MST folks that might be useful:
Resources for individual donations:
American Red Cross: 1-800-RED CROSS or text the word “HELENE” to 90999 to make a $10 donation; redcross.org
Other media organizations that have offered resources:
Postscript: Hiking a trail is a vibrant, living thing—even more so than I realized when I started on this adventure—with so many amazing people I’ve met along the way and people who continue to support the trail in so many different capacities. Though the immediate importance of the trail pales in comparison to the loss of lives, homes, and possessions that many of the inhabitants of Western North Carolina have been faced with, I sincerely hope that the people of this state can recover quickly and, in due time, the western section of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail can reopen for hikers, who, once again, can discover its lasting importance—that is, in experiencing firsthand so much of the scenic beauty and rich history that makes North Carolina such a magnificent state.
Click here to read the previous post.
Map of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail. This post focuses on Segment 4
Thanks for taking us along with you, Jonathan. You embody the notion that so much is possible. I look forward to any future posts and am so glad you didn't go face to face with the hurricane. All the best to you! Jill.
SO glad you were not out on the trail when the hurricane hit....I was worried about you! - and hoping you were safely at home that week. Have enjoyed reading your story and am sure you will finish the trail sometime--when it has been restored and such an amazing trek is again possible. Best wishes, Carmen