Soapbox

Rocky Top

Wish that I was on old Rocky Top,
down in the Tennessee hills.
Ain’t no smokey smog on Rocky Top,
Ain’t no telephone bills.

Well, I survived the great assault on Mt. LeConte, but only just. I am hobbling today because my calf muscles are so tight I can hardly walk.

Ted and I left Friday to climb Mt. LeConte, Tennessee with a group of 13 other great people from the Westerville Bike Club, most of whom I know from our fateful trip to Colorado in July when the plumbing flooded our house while we were away. We spent Friday night in a hotel in Gatlinburg and then climbed the mountain Saturday, spent the night at a primitive lodge on the top and came down the next morning. Other than lingering apprehension at what might happen to the house this time when we left the state, I was really looking forward to this trip.
The group I went with are, by and large, very different hikers than I am. They are destination hikers: the purpose of the trip is to get somewhere. For me, the point has always been an enjoyable journey. The trail we took up was not that hard, and not that long (8 miles) but I forgot I was with people who climb mountains on bikes all the time and compete to see who can get to the top first!

These folks shouldered their packs and headed up. No stopping to enjoy the scenery (what we could see through the dense fog), to take pictures or notice the flora and fauna, or the wonderful smells…no no, there was a mountain to climb!
For the first 2 miles we went mostly up, and I’m embarrassed to admit, I thought I was gonna die. My legs were Ok but I was gasping like a fish out of water! I kept dropping to the back of the line and then falling behind the group. I don’t think it was the climb itself but I just wasn’t up to the pace they set. They’d stop after a while for water and snacks and by the time I caught up, they were about ready to go again, so I didn’t get much chance to sit and rest. Ted loyally stayed with me to keep me company and said encouraging things.

Then we came to a few miles where the trail went more gradually up with small downs in between, and I recovered pretty well and thought I would live to see the top after all. By the last push up we were all pretty bushed and although my legs were getting jelly-like, with the help of a short stretch of Ted selflessly sherpa-ing my pack, was able to keep up. We had about 5 minutes of light rain on the way and 5 miles of heavy mist, so we were looking forward to dry clothes at the top.

Anyway, the top of the mountain was a very neat experience, and I was proud of myself for getting there. There is no electricity up top- at all-, (even for the staff ) although they do have propane for cooking and for small heaters in the tiny, tiny cabins. Guests must pack in all their personal supplies but meals and bed linens are provided. It’s amazing how much you can do without when you contemplate having to drag it up and down a mountain on your back. Like the pioneers in the Rockies, halfway up I started thinking of things I could perhaps have done without, but resisted the urge to leave anything along the trail.
Our only light was oil lanterns and the flashlights we brought up, and it was so foggy on Saturday that there was a real danger of falling off a cliff, because at times you couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front of you.
To wash you got a tin bucket of warm water from the kitchen, poured it in the enamel basin each cabin had and used the wash cloth you brought along. There were no sinks but they installed a little building with “flushies” a few years ago, so I took a tin mug of water in and when I brushed my teeth I spit in there. The windows of the cabins are all covered with heavy mesh to keep the bears out and after dinner we were instructed to put all our trail mix, apples, etc. in the big metal trash cans in the office to keep the mice out until morning. These last two facts made the prospect of midnight trips to the bathroom a bit unnerving.
When we got to the top, found our cabins, dropped our packs and changed into dry clothes most of us headed to the dining hall to avail ourselves of the chairs around the stove and the bottomless pot of hot chocolate. We looked at old photos of the mountain and its inhabitants, and learned about a guy who’s been up a thousand times, and who climbed the Alum Bluff’s trail over 200 times in just one year! Sort of a Mt. LeConte stalker, I guess. Made me feel pretty wimpy.
Someone pulled out some cards and as a game of Euchre started, I found a guitar in the corner. It got darker and darker, so we lit a few lamps, and suddenly it began to rain, then hail. We looked out the windows and were very glad we got an early start and were cozy and warm, not trying to negotiate one of those narrow ledges on the path just then.

After a yummy dinner of pot roast, mashed potatoes, corn bread, green beans, baked apples and chocolate chip cookies, it was announced (by a hiking group that was also there) that they were having a talent show in the office later and all were invited. A few people urged me to go but Ted was tired and wanted to turn in, so I decided to follow suit. We and the other couple in our cabin (we shared a double bunk bed, with a single bed squeezed in by the door) turned in early but ended up snuggled under our covers, talking about our childhoods and sharing stories of our various escapades. The other guy, Alan, was a BAD kid who did things like put his 5 year old brother on a big wheel in wet clothes, pour gasoline on the wheels, push the thing down the hill and then light the trail from the wheels! So his stories were much more fun than anyone elses.
Knowing we were awake by all the laughter, someone headed home from the talent show stuck her head in and said that she met a woman from the hiking group who said she went to OU in the school of music and graduated in 1978. “She wants to meet you at breakfast, Tracy” she said.

We got up at 6:15 to go see the sunrise from Myrtle Point. When I opened the door to go to the bathroom, the sky was crystal clear and I could see a million stars: gorgeous! 5 minutes later the clouds rolled in and by the time we were ready to go you could hardly see your hand in front of your face.
“Let’s see, a extra mile and a half walking to see…a fog bank?” I thought. ” I’m going back to bed!” And I did.
When we went to breakfast at 8 it was starting to clear up. As we dug into pancakes, eggs and ham, grits and biscuits, the woman from the “Social Climbers” group came over and we started to talk. Yeah, she went to OU like me, and then she taught music in Athens.
“Oh? You might know my little brother…he was in the band…Andy Stout.”
She started to laugh.
“Andy Stout? You’re Andy Stout’s sister? I can’t believe it. I was Andy’s music teacher- and his wife’s, and his little girls’ too, before I moved back to Tennessee. Tell him Artis Lee says it’s a small world!”

It looked like a pretty big world from the top of Mt. LeConte, let me tell you. On a clear day, you can see all the way to Knoxville. I bet on the 4th of July you can see 10 different sets of fireworks from 10 different towns. The resident staff had some interesting tales to tell. It takes a special person to live up there, largely cut off from the outside world.

You can call out if you have an old analog cell phone (and a lot of batteries) but the digitals don’t work so well. They have a solar panel to charge up batteries for their emergency radio and a few other things, but there is no generator, so no dishwashers or washing machines: just the propane tanks for heat that the helos air-lift in at the start of the season.

Other than that or in emergencies, everything comes up by llama. They get 8 days off a month and I suppose they’re allowed to send personal gear on the llamas, but they have to walk up and down themselves. It’s always cold and usually cloudy or rainy, and therefore dark all the time…and Ted and I both agreed we’d love to work up there for a summer. It would totally change your outlook on yourself, and the world. What a place to write a book, or teach yourself a skill, like woodcarving or painting or something!

The trip down was fast and easy with blue sky and beautiful scenery all the way. We all just jumped in cars at the bottom and started driving because it was a long way home.
By the time we stopped for our first gas and bathroom break, my legs had stiffened up so much that I opened the car door and almost fell out. Wow! A soak in the tub when we got back helped, but this morning they were stiff and almost useless for 5 minutes. It’s still tough negotiating stairs. Ted has a massive blister and is wearing a brace on his knee because it aches, so we both feel kinda old today. But hey man- we climbed a mountain!

It was a relief to see that nothing leaked, melted, blew up or otherwise altered form and/or substance in the house while we were gone. This time the kids even had a good time. My sister took them to the Renaissance Fair yesterday and Steve spent $50 and bought a- well, I guess it’s a doublet: leather trim, laces up the front. Seems like a lot of money to me for something you’ll wear once or twice on Hallowe’en, but perhaps he’s amassing his own Shakespearean wardrobe. I know teenage boys who spend much more than that on huge pants with dozens of zippers on them and shirts that have pictures of skeletons and blood. My kid wants to look like Sir Stephen of Columbushire: I don’t complain.
So all in all, the family had a good weekend.
Huzzah!