When planning a backpacking a trip, I always look at a detailed map of where I will be hiking. I look for places that we camp, taking into account the distance between camping spots, and the amount of climbs in any given stretch of trail. But sometimes, the map just doesn’t have enough information.

The map indicated that after Marble Springs, we would have a 500 foot ascent up High Cock Knob. It showed that the climb would be steep in a few spots, but really it didn’t look bad. The map doesn’t, however, show trail condition or take into account the heat and sun.

The trail up High Cock Knob started out okay. I was able to ascend 300 feet, to an altitude of 2500 feet according to the altimeter in my watch, without any problems. The trail became rockier and much steeper. At the same time the sun was now directly over head and the temperature was above 80 degrees Fahrenheit. The canopy was getting much thinner, and it was obvious that I was getting sunburned on my arms and face. I kept going, but my pace slowed to a crawl as the trail got much steeper. Slowly, using my willpower to force one foot to step in front of the other, I proceed up over rocks until I finally reached the summit. Over an hour had passed since I had left Marble Springs. This climb had taken much longer than it should have.

I found a rock to sit on and drank the bottle of water I had carried up with me. The water bladder in pack was now empty too. The summit was beautiful, but I felt too hot and exhausted to care. I put on my wide brimmed hat to keep the sun off my face, and started walking again.

The descent was as bad as the climb had been, slow going over rocky trail. The day was only getting hotter, and I was getting tired. I was beginning to get concerned, I still had over 5 miles to walk. The descent ended at Petites Gap, and now I was faced with a 1200 foot ascent up Thunder Ridge

The trail up this ridge was better and the walking went easier, but I was hot. There was no shade, my arms were turning a brilliant shade of red and there wasn’t any relief in sight, as the sun was still nearly directly overhead. Eventually, I reached a spring on the side of the ridge. I took of my pack and filled a bottle with water, I sat on a rock that almost let my arms be in the shade. When I had finished with the water, I refilled the bottle and drank it’s contents again. The temperature was now close to 90 degrees, and it was nearly 4 o’clock. Instead of being at the shelter, as I had believed, I was till over 3 miles away with a lot of climbing left to do.

I have to assume, that I had the beginnings of heat exhaustion at this point. As I write this, I know that I should have taken the bladder out of my pack and filled it. I know that I should have changed in to the long sleeved camp shirt that was in my pack. But sitting there on the side of the mountain, in the heat, I thought about these things and decided against them. The idea of digging through my pack seemed to hard. I didn’t want to lose anymore time than I already had, yet I still sat at the spring for nearly 30 minutes. I also didn’t want to add the weight to my pack that a full bladder would have added. These things which make so much sense now, I could not think clearly about at that time.

After finishing a 3rd bottle of water and clipping a fourth bottle to my pack, I started walking again. Instead of feeling refreshed, I still felt beat. My muscles were tired of climbing. I tried to walk at an even pace, but I found myself stopping after just a few steps. I’d have to make myself start walking again, just to find that after a few steps, I had stopped again. It went on like this till I had reached the top of the ridge.

The trail leveled out a bit and I was able to walk at a slow but steady pace. I pushed on till I came to a road crossing, the Blue Ridge Parkway. I checked my map, and saw that I had about a mile to go. I wondered about Shutter, who I hadn’t seen since I had left Marble Springs six hours ago. I considered waiting for him at this point, but I decided if he was feeling even worse than me, I wouldn’t be able to help him much sitting here exhausted. I decided to push on, get to the end and if he didn’t show up I would go looking for him.

Between me and the shelter at this point, was one last climb, about 500 feet to put us over 4000 feet of elevation. On the map, it appeared that 300 of those feet had to be climbed in less than a quarter of a mile. As we had looked at the map, we had dubbed that last unnamed ridge, the Fuck You. As in, “you are almost to the end, but Fuck You, you have to climb this.” It lived up to its appellation.

As soon as the trail started to ascended, I again slowed to nearly a crawl, taking a few steps and stopping. I finally got to the top of the Fuck You, and sat on a log and caught my breath. After a few minutes, I pushed on. When I arrived at the shelter it was after 7 o’clock.

I ate a big snack and drank a liter of Gatorade. I set up my tent, and tossed my gear inside of it. There was still no sign of Shutter. When he hadn’t shown up by 8 o’clock, I grabbed my trekking poles and headed back the way I had come on the trail. I felt better for having rested, the snack and drink had helped and the temperature had gone down. I didn’t have to walk far to find him. I saw him at the base of the Fuck You.

“Dude!”
“Dude. I’m off the trail.”
“What do you mean?”
“My legs are cramped, I can hardly walk. I feel like shit.”
“Let me take your pack.”

I carried his pack up the Fuck You, and to the shelter. He followed at a very slow pace. By the time we got to the shelter it was nearly 9 o’clock. Thirteen hours had passed since he had set out that morning.

I made myself some dinner and drank some tea. Earl Grey, hot. The wind had picked up and was gusting across the ridge, there wasn’t much point in staying up, so I crawled into my tent and fell asleep quickly.

We both slept in the next morning. I felt much better, but Shutter still felt awful, his legs were still cramping. He was dehydrated. After a bit of discussion, we decided we had to get him off the trail. We walked back to the Blue Ridge Parkway, and made a few calls.

Our trip was done. I could have gone on by myself, but two things stopped me. First, 9 days is a long time to be alone. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to endure that. Secondly, even though I didn’t feel as bad as my friend, I still had a pretty bad sunburn and had pushed myself very hard. I didn’t want to find myself alone and exhausted and wanting to get off the trail in a day or two. If I was going home, this was the time.

The trip may have ended early, but that climb will stick with me.