Over the weekend, my best bud Chris and I went camping and hiking in the north Georgia mountains. Specifically, we camped on the Jack’s River and hiked a trail in the Cohutta Wilderness called Chestnut Ridge.
We left with no schedule and the ultimate goal of just getting to our campsite and have it set up by nightfall. On the way, we stopped in Chattanooga Tennessee to visit an really great outdoor supply store and grab a bite at a nearby deli.
We arrived at camp and pitched out tents and then went in search of firewood. Even though when we arrived the temperature was in the low 60’s, we suspected that it would fall into the 30’s by morning. A fire would be nice.
Turns out that since it had rained in th mountains previously that week, firewood was a bit on the scarce side. We collected what we could and settled in for the evening.
It was Chris’s forty-second birthday and we celebrated by having a 24 ounce bottle of beer. Being that we were in the mountains, there is not much in the way of creature comforts. Our cells didn’t work and there was no Internet for the computers so it was like it used to be when Chris and I and our friends used to go there to camp.
We sat around the fire and talked about things and people and ideas and movies and, well, life in general. It was great and we stayed up until around midnight local time.
I retired to my tent and Chris to his and for the next 6 hours or so, I tried to find the warmest stop in my sleeping bag because the temperature had fallen in the the low thirties, even colder than I expected.
Morning came and usually is the case, I awoke just before sunrise and went off in search of a great place to photograph the sun coming up over the river. I found the perfect spot and headed back to came to get my equipment. The shot is really nice if I do say so myself and can be seen on today’s photoblog entry.
After I finished with the pictures, I headed back and Chris was up and making coffee and chicken-noodle soup. We packed up the camp and off we went in search of some really good images.
As we drove, Chris was telling me about this hike he went on there last year on a really nice trail called Chestnut Ridge. We pulled up to it and decided to hike it. Chris said it was a short three mile trail and that the first mile was pretty strenuous but it leveled off after that and became a moderate hike.
He must have either been in great shape the last time he hiked it or in the earliest stages of dementia. That trail kicked both of our butts. I expected it to kick mine, but it took Chris with it.
It turns out that it is a hike with a constant grade that goes from about 3400 feet or so to the top of the highest mountain in the wilderness, which is around 4500 feet. We couldn’t even make it all the way. We got to around what we estimate to be about a mile from the top and decided to come back (around 4300 feet).
On the way back a couple of things happened, one funny and two not so funny. First, I developed the worst cramp I have ever had in my life in my right quad muscle. Chris was walking ahead of me and didn’t see me stop and continued on at a normal pace down the mountain. I worked with it until I got it out and continued on.
Chris almost fell going down the trail while we were separated. He said it would have been pretty bad if he hadn’t caught himself.
When I was almost at the car and trailhead (about 1/4 mile) I heard voices behind me. this is unusual because you rarely run into anyone in the wilderness. It was four men and a dog and they were running through the forest (more on that in a minute). The dog hated camera and I had mine around my neck. The dog’s owner had to call him off before he attacked me and had the best lunch of his life. What a weird feeling to know that I had made it almost back to safety and instead I was going to be mauled by a camera shy kanine.
Anyway, I made it back to the car about five or so minutes after Chris and he asked me if I had seen those guys. I told him about the dog and we had a good laugh. Then he told me something that pretty much made me never want to hike again.
Here we are, Chris and me, standing at the car licking our wounds, felling like we had just walked through hell with a great view, and the guys we saw were running thrity (30) miles through the Cohutta and Big Frog Mountain wilderness areas…. in one day. That;s right children….30 miles in one day.
Six miles were killing us and we were walking !!!! My hat is off to you runner guys (and your pesky dog too).
At this point, our trip was pretty much over. Chris fell asleep on the way down the mountain and I did my best to not have to move my legs while driving. We ate at the Waffle King (best food in Georgia) in Chattsworth and headed home.
It was a great trip, probably one of my best ever, and one that has added another great story or two to my ever expanding repitoire of tall tales. Happy Birthday Chris !!! I’m sure you you’ll be able to move your legs again within a week. As for me, ten more days and I can remove the tube supplying me the oxygen.