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| Mt. LeConte - First journey 10/2/07 by Beck Roberson |
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Some asked why I wanted to take this trip. Maybe because I wasn’t certain that I could. Mostly it was because I wanted to see this place that so intrigued Stephen and so many others that they would return again and again. We began our hike on a Tuesday morning at 8:30 after a big breakfast at The Atrium. Steve had chosen Alum Cave Bluffs Trail as our path to the summit. Five miles seemed an unattainable goal for me just four months before. Having had surgery on my foot, I just wasn’t convinced that I could hike this far. For weeks, I had been walking to limber my muscles. I had been gathering hiking clothes and gear, packing and repacking my backpack with only the essentials. My confidence ebbed and flowed daily. Steve encouraged me to believe in myself. Now it was time. Take one step, then another. That was my plan. I stood by the trailhead sign for my “ before” picture. I was smiling with eagerness. On the ascent, there were four log footbridges crossing Styx Branch. I had fearfully crossed this type of bridge three weeks earlier on Rainbow Falls Trail. I was not looking forward to doing it again. Surprisingly, these bridges proved to be not so frightening after all. Up until now, the trail had been relatively easy. After the first two bridges we approached Arch Rock, where stone steps had been laid to assist the climb. For the rest of the trip, cables were frequent on the rocky ledges. The views of the mountains below were magnificent. I had no real problems climbing until the last mile and a half or so. The trail became notably steeper and my stamina became notably weaker. My legs were so tired! About the time that I didn’t think I could walk any farther, the trail smoothed out somewhat on the final approach to the lodge. Stephen had cautioned me not to be disappointed with the accommodations. The Lodge is not a lodge at all but a group of rustic wooden cabins, a dining hall, an office and the restrooms. Flush toilets have recently been added and an entry key hangs in your cabin. Disappointment was not at all what I experienced. On the contrary, I was awestruck by both the simplicity and the grandeur. The Lodge seemed to sit comfortably against the side of this mountain, blending into the remarkable scenery. This place is special; not for the comforts it provides, not in spite of those it doesn’t, but rather because of the very lack of those things that we think we need back home but never miss while here. At arrival, we were taken to our cabin and issued our water bucket. The room was sparse, with log beds covered with wool blankets, a small table, a metal washpan and a kerosene lamp. On the table were cups for each of us to take to the dining hall for a welcome cup of hot chocolate and huge chocolate chip cookies. Comfort food for the weary. Yum! The day had been crystal clear, a rare occurrence on the mountain. The views on the way up were breathtaking. We hiked .2 miles up to Cliff Tops, where we would later return to watch the sunset. Steve said that the wind was always blowing here, but today the air was still. The dinner bell rang calling us to supper. I ate everything that was brought to the table! We sat with two sisters who had hiked up the same trail as we. Vicki’s fear of heights had hampered their climb and Pam had encouraged her all the way to the top. They elected to return via Trillium Trail. It was probably for the best. It was announced that sunset was at 7:30 so we collected warm clothes as the wind now blew steadily. We returned to the Cliff Tops, claimed our spot on the ledge, and awaited the day’s goodnight kiss. Endless sky and mountain tops covered the canvas as God painted with molten golds and reds, stroke by stroke amid the clouds. Silly and overly poetic? Yes, maybe. But simply saying that the sunset was glorious does nothing to adequately convey the intensity of emotions I was feeling while witnessing such unparalleled beauty. Nearing darkness, we hiked back down to the office deck. With the lack of interfering light, the stars were innumerable. Just glancing up was not enough so I lay down on the deck to get an unobstructed view. Another couple, Steve and Rama, joined us. I invited Rama to share my panorama of sky. How many stars did we see? How can you count what only God has seen and named? We could see the Milky Way glimmering, twinkling, winking at us. I wanted to shout how beautiful the sight, but somehow silence said it louder. Bedtime comes early here. From our cabin’s deck, we could see the multicolored lights of Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg miles below us. I wondered what the people there were doing. It was an odd feeling knowing that we were so near yet worlds apart. We left the lamp burning and crawled beneath the blankets. I wish I could say that we slept well, our dreams uninterrupted. We did not. Sleep came in increments. Around midnight, I got the key off the nail and made the trek to the potty. Fog had come quietly to the mountain. The wind had come anything but quietly. My headlamp guided me there and back. I felt no fear out there alone, but cautiously hurried back to my cabin. At breakfast, we learned that I was possibly not alone after all. A bear had visited our camp sometime during the night, perhaps seeking a tasty treat. Were we out there together? Probably not, but it makes a good story anyway. On this day, the sky was hidden by the fog. It tumbled over itself as it raced down the mountain then rolled itself back toward the summits. This phenomenon continued the rest of the day, of clouds undulating up and back down the mountainsides. Raindrops fell off and on. Steve and I hiked partially on the Boulevard Trail up to Myrtle Point, where some go to watch the sunrise. On the top of the mountain, the fog gently enveloped us. We were conscious of the treetops and the drop-offs yet neither could be seen. I was reminded that God’s love is much like this. It covers us, surrounds us, and keeps us safe within. We are aware danger is near, but He has promised to guide our feet and direct our paths. We descended back to camp in anticipation of the arrival of the llama train. These comical creatures are used to haul in needed supplies about three times a week. With their buck teeth and large curious eyes, they stand waiting for leftover breakfast breads as treats. Later we hiked about half a mile to the trailheads of Rainbow and Bullhead. I have now set foot on all five approach trails to LeConte. Four young police officers shared our three bedroom cabin this night. We all sat together on our porch while the guys played a card game called Chasing Aces. The strategy of the game is not complicated, allowing for friendly banter while playing. These men shared a special bond and friendship that was comforting to observe. Again, early to bed. Around 3AM, having to make another potty trip and remembering our night visitor, I elected to stay close to the cabin this time. I was pretty sure there was no bear close by, but I chose not to chance an encounter. After breakfast, we packed our bags and prepared to hike back down the mountain. I was ready to head for home yet didn’t want to leave. It had rained during the night so our steps would have to be measured slowly. Our trip up had taken four hours and fifteen minutes. There would be no making up time on the way down. Each step had to be deliberate. I held the cables, I held Steve’s hand, I held my breath. The rocks were wet and slick. The views were majestic. We stopped at Inspiration Point to rest and to eat a Snickers bar. So far, so good. At several spots, I sat down to slide on the really slippery rocks. We rounded a curve and no one had put a cable there. Anyone could see that they had needed to. With Steve’s encouragement and helping hand I made it down the rocky slope. The stone steps at Arch Rock were not so bad on the way up, but now were terrifying. They were deep and wet and dark. I held the cable and side stepped my way to the bottom. I think I had tears of relief when I reached the forest floor but they were mixed with the gentle raindrops that had begun to fall. We were again standing at the trailhead sign having the “after” picture taken. I was still smiling with eagerness. In four hours and five minutes, we were at the end of one trail. In seventy-two hours, I was at the beginning of a new trail. One that led to a love of a magical place called LeConte. This place grabs your heart and won’t let go. What is it that makes it so special I wondered? And then I realized that it will not give up its secrets; really good magicians never do. Will I return to learn more of them? I truly believe I will one day. In learning some of the secrets of the appeal of this mountain, I learned some things about myself. I accomplished more than I ever thought I could. I conquered some of my fears. I made Steve proud of me for doing something that neither of us could be certain of the outcome. I’m pretty proud of myself, too! Stephen was my inspiration and my encouragement. This was an exhilarating experience that I shared with my very best friend. This was anything but just a hike. It was a step by step journey within on the way to a magical, mystical mountain. |
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