Searching for the Bald

Oct. 14th -- I decided that I would make another attempt to reach the bald a few miles east of Sam's Gap along the Appalachian Trail. I found directions to a trail head two miles closer to the bald than my prior starting point. According to my information, the hike to and from the bald would be just under 8 miles, easily do-able in the time I had before Paul got home from school. So, I confidently set out on that cool morning looking forward to the hike.

I followed the directions carefully and ended up a crossroads. The paved road ended at a fork. The left gravel lane was surrounded by welcoming signs such as "NO TRESPASSING" or "TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT." I decided against that way. The other gravel lane was filled with grooves and holes large enough to swallow a car. I edged that way a bit but it didn't seem promising. So I backed up and searched for other possibilities. Although I did stop to ask for directions from some of the locals (a flock of wild turkey crossing the road), I didn't get anywhere nearer to finding the trailhead. Finally, I decided to do some blind navigation. During a previous hike, I had passed the parking spot and knew that it lay alongside a gravel road. If one end came out on my end of the mountain, the other end should be somewhere north of me. So, following a web of country lanes, I worked my way around the mountain and up the other side. After a half hour of driving through the land o' mobile homes, suddenly I came upon it...the parking spot. And so the hike began.

It was a lovely walk through the early autumn woods. I discovered a stand of chestnut trees and collected a hand full of fallen chestnuts. This was quite a discovery as almost all chestnuts in western North Carolina were wiped out years ago by a blight. In fact, I didn't know any remained. After collected the nuts, I resumed my walk at a brisk pace, knowing that I had used up a lot of time trying to find the trailhead. The path took me along a ridge with a grand view of I-26, along the slope of another mountain, and then down into a gully that contained a unused campsite. The woods around me had changed a great deal since my July hike of the area with much of the undergrowth now dead for the winter and a carpet of red and yellow leaves littering the path.

Eventually, the trail began to climb steadily. The temperature hadn't risen like it was supposed to, and I was woefully underdressed. After two hours of hiking there was still no sign of the bald. So, I stopped for lunch (clam chowder soup) and to rest. Ahead of me the trail climbed steeply, I assume to the bald.

But I wouldn't know for certain because my time was up. I had just enough time to get back to my car, make the drive home, and have a little leeway before Paul returned home. So, with a shrug of disappointment, I started back for the car. At one point, though, I stopped and like Lot's wife, peered back. There, between the trees, I saw something I'd previously missed: a glimpse up above of the bald. I had come within a half mile of it!