On the (mostly) hot and sunny Saturday of July 24, 2021, Ranger Bob (me, Bob Laney), Gerianne Hannibal and Rose Pawlyszyn biked the New River State Park, VA, trail. We went downhill from Dannelly Park to Fries Junction, and then back uphill to Fries, VA. We encountered one intense rain fall, but it only lasted about 30 minutes and did not harm anything.
Rose was our leader. She had been there a half dozen times. Gerianne and I had been on other NRSP sections, but this trip was our first to this section. We covered 26 miles on a smooth, gently rolling trail which was a converted railroad bed. The uphills and downhills were well graded and mild.
Ranger Bob lost at least two outdoor sports merit badges, maybe three, on this trip because of my poor performance. I have been on many long, tough trips; like backpacking 60 miles through the Wind River Range, WY, in deep snow drifts and many places with no trail; or canoeing 70 miles on the Shenandoah River; or backpacking the Highline Trail in Grand Teton National Park. But this trip was the most exhausting and painful I have ever experienced.
The trouble was not the trail or terrain. Rose and Gerianne handled the entire trip easily. I was operating under several disabilities. First, I am about 40 pounds too fat, which is a lot of weight to push even 5 miles. Next, I was carrying a 20 pound pack full of gear, like a bicycle tool kit, a first aid kit, a repair and survival kit, rain suit, head lamp and a half gallon of water. But I did not bring excess water; I ran out about two miles from the end and should have brought a little more. Finally, such a trip would be easy for a biker with a modicum of training. But I had no training. I had not been on my bike for two years, except for one day the week before I pedaled 5 miles - not nearly enough training.
By comparison the ladies were slim and trim; carried about two pints of water and no equipment; and had plenty of recent training.
I have seen videos of people running marathons who cannot make it and give out before the end. The runners’ muscles cramp up all over their body, their knees buckle, their arms and legs go spastic, they fall down and sometimes they get nausea or diarrhea. Their body has shut down. To a lesser degree, I suffered many of those symptoms. Four miles from the end my body tried to shut down. I had to stop every few hundred yards to rest. Two miles from the end I had to stop pedaling and just walk.
Rose kindly hung back with me to assure I did not get left behind and further in trouble or lost. When I had to walk she walked with me. When I ran out of water she gave me a pint canteen. Then she carried my pack for a while. A half mile from the end Gerianne came back to find us, took my bike and let me just walk. Then at about a quarter mile Gerianne came running back, took my pack from Rose, put it on and ran back up the trail. She reminded me of videos of Marine boot camp.
I was more exhausted than I have been in my entire life. I was in major pain in my thighs, hips, butt cheeks, triceps and wrists. Gerianne kindly put my bike in the back of her truck because my triceps were too weak to lift it onto my Jeep roof rack. Then she drove out of her way to bring my bike directly to my house. Rose and Gerianne are my heroines.
Other than my travails, it was a fine trip! The scenery of mountain shrubbery, wild flowers, creeks and the immensely wide New River were beautiful. Rose and Gerianne pedaled coolly and quietly the whole time. We had a lunch at the NRSP family park at Fries, where Rose bought a hot dog loaded with all the fixings. There was a car show and music festival getting organized as we ate.
A good time was had (mostly) by all! Two good things are I have been suffering from plantar fasciitis in my left foot for several months. It was gone! And, I lost four pounds! Only 36 pounds to go.
On the bright, sunny warm Saturday morning of June 26, 2021, Ranger Bob went paddling with Gerianne Hannibal and Rose Pawlyszyn. Bob was in his solo canoe while Gerianne and Rose were in their sit-in kayaks. We put in at Zaloo’s Canoes just south of the NC Hwy 88 bridge and paddled to the take out at New River State Park, Wagoner Access.
The trip was five miles and took two hours of half drifting and half paddling. There were plenty of shallow rocks and small riffles to steer around, but no rapids. We all got into the Zen of the time and just about totally relaxed. We passed a half dozen other paddlers and inner tubers on the river, and a few fishermen.
At the take out we ate our picnic lunches. Gerianne and Rose were astounded at the heavy weight of my canoe full of gear for potential rescues compared to their kayaks. A good time was had by all.
Next time we hope to make it a longer trip and may take the 10 mile route.
Ranger Bob had planned a backpacking trip to Grandfather Mountain on December 28 - 29, 2020. I made my reservation using the new Internet system adopted by the State Park several months ago. A couple days before the trip I received a call from one of the Park Rangers. I had never been personally called by a park ranger before. Apparantly I was the only person to have a reservation to camp on the mountain that entire week, so I caught their attention. He wanted to know if I was aware of the conditions in the Park.
He said the trail head parking lot is on the Blue Ridge Parkway which is closed due to deep snow. Then the camp site I had reserved has no water, so I will have to carry all I need for two days. And the only spring where water is available on the trail to my camp site is frozen over and not running. Then the trail itself is iced over and covered with deep snow. Not only would these conditions make for difficult hiking, but the mountain is so steep and rugged that even in clear, warm, dry weather some steps can be difficult and dangerous. Under deep snow the steps would be invisible and even more dangerous. Finally, the temperature is expected to be about 5 degrees, with a wind chill factor well below 0 degrees.
I said that I am 68 years old, my family has owned a cabin near Grandfather since I was born, where I often stay. I have hiked, camped and backpacked on every trail in every season and weather condition, so I expected these factors. The ranger fell all over himself apologizing for insulting my experience.
I laughed and said that my experience tells me not to go on this trip. Even if I could handle it and survive, I am not in that strong shape physically and I would be miserably cold. I thanked him profusely for being concerned about my safety and for contacting me as a precaution. We chatted for a while more about the Park before hanging up.
This trip is the first one in my life that I have cancelled due to bad weather conditions and my own lack of acclimation and physical shape. I suppose this situation is a condescension to my aging, and maybe to my getting a little bit wiser.
A good time was had by all snuggling on the couch in front of the open wood stove and drinking hot chocolate.
On the two chllly fall days of November 5 and 20, 2020, Ranger Bob joined his boon companion Bill Booth for two trout fishing days on the Linville River headweaters in Linville Land Harbor, between Linville and Newland, NC. The weather was plesantly sunny and clear both days. November 20 was cold enough that for the first time this year I crunched through ice formed on the edges of the river. I was well insulated in chest waders, a pile suit and long under wear, but still, standing waist deep in the chilly flowing water for several hours was enough to numb my outer limbs.
The second day we were joined by Bills local friend Rick Leonard, who is nice guy. He gave me several fishing tips to get more hits on my lure, then he took the photo and video published here.
On the first day Bill and I caught about 10 robust trout, mostly browns and rainbows. On the second day Bill had to leave mid-morning for a family errand. Rick and I hit a deep pool at the right time and for two sessions of about 20 minutes each, we got a bite on nearly every cast. But we did not catch that many fish. Many of the bites were light or trailing so we could not set the hook but on about every third or fourth cast.
Both days we released all the fish. The rule is that a fisherman can keep three trout. Next time I go I plan to take a creel and keep a couple to eat that night.
On the cloudy and cool day of Sunday, November 15, 2002, Ranger Bob took a pre-Thanksgiving hike on the main loop over the top of the mountain and down by the water fall in Stone Mountain State Park. There were a substantail number of other hikers but no congestion. I was alone on the trail for much of the trip.
For about four years I have suffered from getting out of breath which is triggered by starting any kind of strenuous activity. The problem is caused by post traumautic stress disorder from a scuba diving accident. I was in serious trouble on the bottom of ocean at about 100 foot depth, afraid I would drown and came close to fatally panicking. Since then I have been tested by four doctors for cardiovascular and pulmonary functions. All the tests came back negative, meaning I am fully physically healthy. The PTSD is psychological, and there is no cure except for me to get used to it and control it as best I can.
I have already learned to control the breathlessness while playing tennis. I can play hard and get out of physical breath but not suffer PTSD. I don't know how I did this. About 9 montsh ago it just started working. I suppose it is because I play tennis so often - sometimes three times a week.
On this hike I made good progress on controlling the PTSD while hiking. I did not suffer any bouts of psychological breathlessness. To do so I hiked exceedingly slowly and made a conscious effort to enjoy the sights, sounds and smells around me. I purposefully did not dwell on getting up the mountain with any speed. I still felt the normal occasions of physical breathlessness from hiking up a steep mountain, but I enjoyed the opportunity to be outside, rather than worrying about how long it would take me to get to the top.
It appears that in the future when I hike, bike, backpack or otherwise engage in strenous exercise that I will be going slowly. That means I will either be by myself; or I will be traveling with patient and understanding companions.
On the chilly, sunny, windy afternoon of November 1, 2020, a friend from the Women Who Wander hiking club joined me for a hike to the top of Rich Mountain at the western end of Cone Estate Park on the Blue Ridge Parkway in Watauga County. She lives near Banner Elk with the headwaters of the Watauga River in her back yard, so we were both familiar with this trail.
After the hike we planned to eat a picnic at an open air table in the Park, but by then it was too dark, windy and cold. So we went to my family's cabin on Shulls Mill Road and ate in the dining room. My friend provided the victuals which were made by Maw's Produce in Foscoe, NC. It was delicious and we enjoyed the bottle of white wine she provided.
On the Halloween afternoon of October 31, 2020, Ranger Bob traveled to Eustace Conway's Turtle Island Preserve to be a volunteer at a Festival celebrating outdoor activities like black smithing and deer hide tanning. The TIP staff conducted a silent auction of donated goods as a fund raiser. Other staff cooked a large, deliciious supper made from locally grown or sourced meats, vegetables, fruits, cheeses and breads. The main food was a whole pig smoked in the ground at TIP that afternoon.
I was tasked with managing the wine station. Knowing nothing about wine except that I like Moscato, I opened and set out most of the bottles. Then I pretty much let the guests serve themselves. Most of them seemed to appreciate the opportunity to pour themselves about double the normal serving.
Well after dark (there are no electric lignts on TIP) I pulled out my wisely carried flash light, made my way through the woods to my Jeep and headed home.
The late summer and early fall 2020 saw excessive amounts of rain in north west NC. I had three river canoe trips cancelled by outfitters Zaloo's Canoes and New River Outfitters due to high water levels making being on the water dangerous. On the Sunday of September 20 Michael Brown, MIchael Cooper and I tried again. We carpooled to New River Outfitters on the South Fork of the New River where it crosses US 221 in south east Ashe County. The river was way high but NRO agreed it was runnable.
On this trip we parked at the NRO lower lot and were shuttled upstream to the put-in. I had my solo canoe outfitted with flotation and the two Michaels rented sit-on-top kayaks. After a round of photographs, Brown and Cooper got in their boats. They politely waited in the water near the put-in for me to get in my boat. But the current quickly carried them away down river, under the tall bridge and out of sight around the curve.
I slid my boat down the steep, rocky and muddy bank to the water. There was no convenient place to stand, and from my location I was too high above the water to actually hold on to my boat. I stupidly did not hold onto a rope tied to the boat to keep it under control. As I lowered the boat the last foot into the water it pulled out of my hand. As I squatted lower to reach down, my foot slipped and I fell forward onto a rock. In one second the strong current pulled the boat away from the bank and out of my reach. When I turned to look down stream and tried to grab the boat I lost my balance and fell again. For the first time in my 57 year outdoor career, I had lost my boat and was stranded on the shore with no way to get it. All my gear was in the boat, including my wallet and Jeep keys. I was fearful that the empty boat would snag on a rock or tree, sink and never be found. I was truly up the creek without a paddle and semi-panicked.
I jumped in the river and half-swam, half-waded after the boat. The heavy current shoved me forward and the muddy water kept me from seeing the large rocks on the river bed. I was constantly knocked off balance, stumbled against big rocks and sank up to my neck. My canoe kept moving away faster. Soon it was at the river curve and almost out of sight. So I turned upstream and tried to get back to the put-in. This move engendered more banged knees and shins on big, invisible rocks. I switched paths and tried to walk on the bank. Steep, rocky, muddy banks caused more falls. When I got to higher ground, I was wading through poison ivy and briers. Finally at the put-in, both my legs were streaming with mud and blood and I was breathing as hard as if I had run a mile at top speed.
Luckily, I had my phone in my life jacket pocket. Further fortunatelly, it was in a water proof case. I called NRO and requested the shuttle driver to come pick me up and take me to the next bridge about three miles down stream. Then I called Brown but his phone was in his dry bag and he could not hear it ring. Most fortunately, he was wearing an Apple watch and heard it buzz. Eventually he dug out his phone; we connected and agreed to a plan. I directed him to pull over to the side of the river and wait for my boat to drift down to him. Actually, he is a strong paddler from years of rowing crew in college. So he paddled back upstream until my boat came into sight.
Brown corraled the loose boat, tied the painter (the rope atached to the bow (the front of the boat)] to his leg and wrangled it down stream. He was careful to pull my boat in close while going through rapids so it did not get stuck on a rock and pull his boat out of control. We finally met at the middle bridge. I was able to get back in my boat and paddle together to our next stop. At the New River State Park, US 221 Access, we pulled over and ate lunch at a camp site.
The rest of the day was uneventful and we had a pleasant paddle to the take-out at the NRO lower parking lot. A good time was had by all.
The weather was clear, sunny and warm on July 26, 2020, when I paddled my canoe on the New River in Ashe County. I hired the New River Outfitters in south east Ashe County to shuttle me up stream about 7 miles for their "intermediate" trip. I was paddling solo in my medium size Dagger Reflection 15. The river was medium high from recent rains so the current was moving well. With moderatle paddling mixed with coasting along to enjoy the scenery I made the trip in about 2.5 hours. Even with this fairly short mileage and time on the river, I still got several small blisters on my thumbs. Thankfully I had my Northwest River Supplies paddling gloves with me which I wore for the last two miles.
I did not see another canoe and few kayaks. The majority of river floaters were meandering along in rental inner tubes with attached tubes toting coolers full of beer. I was offered a cold beer by three groups so I took two of them.
One difference on this trip from prior outings I that I did not over pack gear. Traditionally I take every piece of equipment that I may need and have too much stuff. It is pain to tote around so much volume and weight of things. This time I only took true necessities, like a canteen of water and a camera. A good time was had with lots of exercise, fresh air and joking with the tubers.
On the sunny, hot day of July 12, 2020, I took a nice wooded hike on the Boone Fork Trail in Price Park, Watauga County, NC.
The most notable event was that due to recent rains and abnormally muddy trail, at one steep location I slipped and skinned my shin, knee and forearm.
On a more positive note I was using a new water bladder and drinking hose system that worked well.
The trip was good fun, good exercise and I saw many other hikers enjoying the outdoors with me.