Monday, May 13th, 2024, 0700-1730
Newton Bald 52 to Laurel Gap Shelter, mm 277.7
25 miles, Gain: 6980′, Loss: 6490′, elevation 5440′
It was cloudy when I woke and I could tell the rain was coming early. But at least my tent was bone dry and would hopefully stay that way, if I could just make it to the shelter. The morning got off to a surprising and unsettling start. In the pre-dawn darkness, I went to retrieve my food bag from the bear cables. I had to go past the hammockers, so I was trying to be extra quiet. Just as I came abreast of them, out of the corner of my eye, I caught the motion of a large animal rushing me from the direction of the campsite. I didn’t have my trekking poles and froze in terror, letting out a muffled half scream/shout. The dark figure quickly morphed from a presumed bear into a fool hound dog, gazing at me adoringly, hoping for a hand out. Suddenly a lot of things made sense. I’d earlier heard the guys shouting at something in the middle of the night. Again, I presumed it was a bear and immediately went back to sleep. But it had been the hound dog, trying to lick them in the face…another reason I prefer my tent. He was lost in the woods, no doubt from the nearby town of Cherokee.
As soon as I got my bag down, I threw him a whole package of sausage so he’d leave me in peace to eat my breakfast. I packed quickly, then chatted with the guys one last time. They were sleepy but fully conscious, after being rudely woken so many times in the morning (including by my scream and then the dog barking at me as I began to set off). I hoped the hound would stay with them but he of course followed me down towards the Smokemont campground off Newfound Gap Rd. At that point, I hoped he’d follow me all the way down so I could turn him into the rangers, but no. Like a true fool and unruly hound dog, he ran off to chase a smell. I tried calling him back for awhile but he couldn’t hear me over his incessant howls. He was fully collared with GPS and radio antenna, so I figured someone would find him eventually. Dogs aren’t supposed to be in the park at all, but I saw lots of such hunting dogs on my AT hike, including in Shenandoah NP.
Three big descents and climbs were the order of this long and hard day. The first descent was easy, since my legs were fresh and I had a companion for half the way down. At the bottom, I walked through the campground so that I could chat with a ranger about the dog and also see about changing my permit to stay at the shelter that night. Occupying unplanned campsites with lots of room was one thing, but the shelters definitely had limited capacity. I’d briefly had cell reception and went online to see if there were spots available. The site indicated that 10 of the 12 spots were free, so that boded well. But I didn’t have enough signal to make a call to change my permit. The ranger’s internet was down and the phone out of service, so that didn’t work either. Oh well, at least I tried and was able to give them the information about the dog. I also got to use the bathrooms and throw my trash away…score!
I continued up along Chasteen Creek and took the short side trip to the falls. They were nice. Then I must have zoned out for several hours because I barely remember anything about the rest of the climb and shorter descent along Enloe Creek. I did recall Enloe Creek trail being closed weeks before, due to a dead horse and bear activity. I looked for signs noting the closure but never saw any, so I assumed the trail was open again. I also didn’t see the dead horse or any bears. There were some tedious fords of the creek where I bothered to change shoes. I shouldn’t have, since I knew the rain was coming soon and my shoes would likely get wet anyway. But I didn’t relish doing the final climb with heavy wet feet, not if I could help it. The last crossing was over a large bridge, with a scenic view of the rushing creek and many large boulders. There was a nice campsite nearby.
On the way up to Hyatt ridge (2nd climb), I ran into 2 NPS trail maintainers who asked me if I’d come down the Enloe creek trail. Apparently it was still closed, but it’d been over a month since the horse died. They weren’t upset that I’d hiked the trail; in fact, they seemed relieved since they were headed that way to investigate the situation. Happy to be of service. I stopped at the top of the ridge for a short lunch break, and of course that’s when the rain started, just after noon, hours earlier than predicted, as usual. At least it was very light at first, allowing me to finish lunch and carry on easily on the last descent. Down 2k’ I went on the Beech Gap Trail, just to go back up 2.5k’. It was a bit frustrating, but the rain motivated me to just keep moving. There was a final short road piece and large railroad type bridge crossing Straight Fork creek. I had only 4.5 miles of up to go, but then the rain began to come down in earnest. So much for dry feet.
On I plodded. I hated going uphill with my umbrella deployed, since it limits my field of view so much. But it’s not like I was expecting to run into anyone. The rain also created quite the white noise, drowning out everything else. I was in a bit of such a trance when I sensed something off. I tilted my body back to see fully ahead and of course there was another hiker just standing there. He was going down and probably thinking I was an idiot for being so out of it. Admittedly, I was very tired and in a grumpy mood. I guess I looked bad enough that he asked if I was OK. Yes, I got this, I said. I was only 1 mile from the shelter, so I was definitely going to be ok. I wondered why he hadn’t stopped there, but didn’t inquire about his plans. I desperately hoped it wasn’t because a troop of 20 boy scouts had changed their itinerary to stay there.
After another grueling day of 7k’ elevation gain in 25 miles, I arrived cold and hungry at the shelter, surrounded by fog and drizzle. Thankfully there were indeed just 2 people there, Jeff and his son Rilliam. It made the shelter feel cozy having some company and I settled in for a cold, but at least dry evening. Like the other Smokies shelters, this one was made of stone, had a fire place (not that there was any dry wood around), and a large covered cooking area. The roof had even been updated with skylights, letting the last bit of daylight fill the interior.
My last chore of the day was to collect water from the nearby spring. I detested going back out into the rain, but it let up a bit and revealed a beautiful setting among the high rhododendron and conifer forest. The ground was was delightfully spongy from all the moss and pine needles. I even took time to wash off in the spring a little, even though it was so cold. My thermometer read 47 degrees by nightfall, and without a puffy, I was in my quilt very early. Everything was a bit damp but I warmed quickly. I listened to the lovely bird song until it got dark. The other 2 were also dedicated naturalists, so we were able to compare notes. What great companions! I was so grateful for them and also for the shelter, one of only 4 along the BMT. It was a real treat for my final night. Yes, I would have preferred camping on top of Mt Sterling on my 4th night, as planned, but not in the rain.