This past week has been such a challenge for me. I awoke Wednesday with stomach pain and tried to fight off so I could go hiking but by mid morning I was at the hospital and by that evening I was in surgery for an emergency appendectomy. Although the surgery was a success, I now face my longest layoff from the trails in my life. But in sticking with my silver lining mentality, I'm going to use the time to catch up on some blogs that have been filed away in the memory banks.

The beginning. Back when everyone was happy.

The logging road showed no mercy.

First up is this year's Black Friday hike or as it's now known by most outdoorsy folks, Opt Outside. I'm not sure how this happened but each year my #OPTOUTSIDE hike has pushed the envelope a little further each time. This year I had only one trail in mind, the incredibly difficult Woody Ridge Trail that stretchs only 2.6 miles but gains 3100ft to meet the Black Mountain Crest Trail between Celo Knob and Mt. Gibbs. A quick Google search will yield descriptions such as, insane, unrelenting, ridiculous, and maybe my favorite, "the hardest maintained trail in the state of North Carolina."

A frozen  spider web along the trail.

Sallie and I enjoying a break heading up.

Unfortunately for Kip, he's my friend and as part of that friendship I always drag him along on these #optoutside hikes with me. Even more troubling is the fact we both work in the grocery business so by the time Black Friday rolls around, we're pretty exhausted anyway. The good news at least was our suffering wouldn't be in silence when I asked Halley to join our ranks as well. She has hiked the Woody Ridge Trail and when I told her of my plans she said, "I'm definitely in, I can't wait to see you on that trail" before busting into a maniacal laugh. It wasn't the reaction my confidence needed.

The trail is literally straight up at times.

Kip is somewhere up in that fog. Photo by Halley.

The morning of the hike I woke up somewhat excited. I knew no matter how bad it was it wasn't a long hike and that later that night I would be with my family to celebrate our Thanksgiving meal. Kip arrived soon after and we were on the road with a plan to meet Halley at the trail head. At some point on the drive, Kip brought up something I've pondered on many times since he first asked me, he said, "Why do you keep doing this to yourself, you don't have anything left to prove." In a way he's right, last year I sat a goal of 1000 miles of hiking and achieved it. This year, Ive felt those miles along with a list of ailments including  constant hip pain and as bad as I hate to admit it, being about 15 lbs heavier. It's a question I can't answer right now but it's definitely made me think.

Kip, Halley, and Sallie with our Christmas tree.

Natural tree root steps lifting us into the heavens.

We wheeled into the trail head a few minutes ahead of our meeting time and I rolled out of the truck to adjust my pack for the haul up the hill. Kip joined me and noted the chill in the air but thankfully I had brought an extra pair of gloves that I tossed to him for warmth. If it was cold now, 3000ft of elevation was gonna be frigid. Halley in typical fashion was a few minutes late and skidded in with a cloud of dust. Sallie (her dog) jumped from her car and ran to greet us. After a few minutes of digging through the trunk of her car Halley presented me with a framed picture from the Roan Highlands that she took the day she met me over five years ago. She then tossed me and Kip a pair of hot hands for later on. It was a good start to our day!

Kip and I enjoying a rest before attacking the mountain again. Photo by Halley.

Amazingly we are still happy. Just about to the halfway point.

My thoughts soon shifted from the thoughtful Christmas gift and up the old logging road that would serve as the first half of our hiking trail. Woody Ridge doesn't start easy although the elevation gain isn't extreme, it's up. I was ready so I started the climb passing the small brown forest service trail marker and adjusting my straps for some heavy breathing and burning legs. At the top of the sign it said "Most Difficult."

I didn't make it far before Halley was scolding me for leaving our group and we paused for a picture before settling into the hike. The early portion is hard not only because its climbing steadily uphill but there's also plenty of losse rock and leaves to trio you up. But perhaps most of all, the scenery just sucks. You're climbing a road through open woods with zero views and to add to our misery a thick fog blanketed the lower half of the mountain.

Halley's secret mountain getaway.

It was so luxurious.

The bat that about gave me a heart attack.

Kip quickly shifted to the pace sitter while Halley drifted in between us. Occasionally I would catch up to them taking a rest and they would take off up the trail again before my hands could hit my knees. Halley seemed genuinely excited to be hiking with us and Sallie ran wild crossing our paths as we ascended the mountain. Soon we arrived at a large boulder along the trail and we stopped for our first real break. As we sat there, a man approached from below and passed us by seeming to be in a hurry. He would be the only person we saw all day. Shortly after the boulder the fog had begun to freeze to everything making our climb much more scenic and bearable. It also gave me a few extra rest breaks as Halley would unpack and repack her camera. 

The old road would level for a few steps here and there but our ascent was nearly constant with Halley every few minutes reminding us of "just wait until the hard part!" Kip to his credit stayed on a respectable pace and never seemed overly gassed or annoyed with me for getting him into the hike in the first place. As we all exchanged stories, Halley came to a halt and announced, "y'all wanna see something really cool?" I asked if it involved extra climbing and she said no so I agreed, as we ducked off the trail and UP the hillside. We wound over a small ridge to a large set of boulders obscured by laurel. When I got closer I could see a shack was built using the boulders and it had a door that was standing wide open. I was first inside the small wooden shack and noticed the walls were insulted and the floor was lined with plastic. It wasn't much, but it would keep you dry as a large rock made it's roof. Kip and Halley joined me in the shack and as I was taking their picture, Halley said, "Watch out for that bat beside your face." I wheeled around to see that I was dangerously close to smacking my head on a live bat. I almost made a new exit from the shack in my retreat.

This was ridiculous.

Rope to help us up some of the steepest rocks.

Back on the trail my adrenaline and heart rate were up and my legs were churning. One blog I had read described a particularly harrowing section of trail called Hell's Half Mile. We made a hard left around yet another boulder and i was greeted with stone stairs that rose straight up the ridge. Halley approached giggling, leaned in, squinted, and said, "see that yellow trail marker way up there?" It took me a second but at least a couple tenths straight up was a yellow diamond tacked to a tree. "That's our trail." We had arrived at Hell's Half Mile.

My turn to come up the ropes. Photo by Halley.

Halley and Sallie on the edge of the area known as Horse Rock. Photo by Kip with Halley's camera.

A half mile isn't very far but when it's nearly vertical on ice coated leaves it feels like an eternity. I struggled mightily on this part and Kip and Halley tried every tactic they could to keep me moving upward. I had made the mistake of tracking our trip with my GPS watch and backcountry navigator. I say mistake because I was actually foolish enough to check our progress and see those elevation lines bunched tightly together for at least another mile. Somewhere on the stretch we hoisted ourselves up a rock formation that didn't have a view but gave a staggering glance at the trail as it shot down the mountain. It looked liked if you slipped you would just fall forever. As chilling as that was, behind me the trail actually got harder.

I mentioned my family Thanksgiving meal and I thought of it several times in those hard spots, not for the food but for the time I would get to spend with my Uncle Jim. He's been my hero for as long as I can remember and one of the toughest men I've ever met. Seeing what age has done to him is cruel and knowing my time is limited with him crueler, but if he knew I was thinking about quitting he would laugh in my face and call me a wimp. I once more rose to my feet.

A really great photo Halley captured of the Roan Highlands.

Kip has always supported me, even when it's a bad idea. Photo by Halley.

Halley trudged along hot on Kip's heels occasionally letting out an exasperated gasp and grunting upward. Kip meanwhile had fell in silence and a few times he would simply say, "really?" As if puzzled at the trails continued ascent. Halley kept my hopes alive by saying "there's a rock we will be above the clouds and it will be sooo pretty!" The trick helped propel me another half mile before I stopped believing her. I actually stopped completely because my hands were so cold. I had gave Kip my good gloves and my thin work gloves weren't cutting it. My hands were so numb I couldn't bend my fingers to tear open my hot hands. It did however provide a laugh we would talk about the rest of the trip.

Near the end of our ordeal the climbing gave us one last burn.

At one of our first viewpoints off the mountain we encountered the lone hiker again. He made a comment like, "pick it up, big man" and when I joined him on the rock. I stood purposely close to him to let him understand how the food chain works. I think he regretted those words from his hurried departure. We were at last rewarded with a view off the shoulder of Celo and a blanket of fog covered the valleys while only the highest of peaks emerged such as the Roan Highlands. It was completely spectacular.

Kip's arrival at the Black Mountain Crest Trail.

Kip! Stay with us!

I somewhat gained a second wind and we swung around to an even more open rock face on a sheet cliff. We dropped packs and enjoyed the views here until I was at least breathing normal again. We were now only .3 miles from the Crest Trail! As happy as our progress on my GPS unit made me it still didn't account for the steepest push since Hell's Half Mile as the trail attacked the final ridge before the meadows of the crest. Kip and Halley both enjoyed laughing and prodding me up this section by quoting my "help..my hot hands" line repeatedly. I would however have the last laugh as I caught them in the forest just before the open fields near the crest while they were adding layers, I was first to tag the little brown sign at the intersection of the crest trail. It had took me four hours to climb 2.6 miles.

Meanwhile, I felt completely renewed.

We wouldn't let a great photo op pass us up. Thanks for the photo Halley!

I quickly turned to rub it in but when I saw Kip's expression, I felt sorry for what I had done to one of my best friends. I have never seen him look more tired. Halley was right behind him skipping and laughing as was Sallie, who now herself even had on a coat. We turned toward Celo Knob making our way to some rock outcrops for photos and a few minutes of rest. The constant wind and my sweat soaked shirt quickly had me thinking of our descent off the ridge.

Mission success. Woody Ridge complete.

Heading down. Photo by Halley.

The climb down Woody Ridge was uneventful although it did provide some challenges scooting down through the leaves in the steepest of sections. By the time we made our way to the logging road, my legs were quivering, front and back. Once we reached the parking lot we paused for one more photo with the little brown sign, had some goodbye hugs, and went our separate ways. The ride home was especially unusual as both Kip and I were so tired we barely spoke. I dropped him off at his truck and drove straight to my parents. I pulled through their front yard and parked at the doorstep. When Uncle Jim noticed this later on he asked, "why did you park like a wimp?" It was the perfect end to my day. Until next time, happy trails!