More Bushwhacking Lessons

OK, so, after my near disastrous bushwhacking attempt, I decided to give it another go. After two weeks of  recovery, and feeling like a job was left unfinished, I took off up the spring branch. Accompanying me on this trip was my dog Rocket who is a champion hiker who would rather go for a stroll in the woods than eat. We left much, much earlier than the previous attempt. There was no way that I wanted to risk being caught in the dark a second time.

During those two weeks, I pored over the topo map of the chosen route to be traveled. I studied every bend and every route that was possible. This turned out to be an invaluable exercise as my GPS ended up turning into nothing more than extra weight to carry in my pack.

About 1/4 of the way into the trek, I paused to check the GPS to determine my progress and, low and behold, the screen went dark and the battery icon was blinking then unceremoniously informed me that the battery was too low to track my location. I was not going to let this route beat me for a second time, so we moved ahead relying on my memory of the aforementioned topo map.

When I reached the top of Hullander Cove on the saddle position between the Hullander Knobs, the point where I abandoned my route last time, I felt a sense of satisfaction that every step I took from this point on was a victory. We stopped here to rest and share an apple, and give Rocket a water break. Traveling ridge tops and  saddles, there usually aren't many spots of surface water, so I have to pack extra water and a bowl so that the dog can stay hydrated.

After our break, we began to head up the steep slope of Hullander Knob west. Rocket is a true leader in as much as he must be in the front at all times. He also has a keen sense for finding the easiest route available, so I readily follow his lead. We wrapped around the southern slope of the knob until I realized Rocket stalled and didn't seem very eager to move forward. When I caught up to him, I was staring at an extremely steep side slope of exposed granite outcrops. I decide we needed to travel up slope to the summit of the knob to get a better vantage point and find the easiest drop from here to the northern base of Mine Mountain.

The climb was bruuu-tal! Every step made my thighs cry out for a rest.  Looking in an upward direction became demoralizing so I decided to keep my head down and tackle the slope one step at a time, often depending on small trees for a hand hold and extra power by using my arms to help pull me upwards. Once at the top, I was able to spot the black ribbon of Hwy 76 that I travel to and from work. It was nice to know that I was finally up on the peak that I spy from the road almost everyday.

Finally, the easiest route over to Mine Mountain could be seen, though easy it wasn't. Rocket slowly picked his way down the rocky slope and I began to notice him slowing a little. This pace evened out as we reached the saddle and began a mild climb up the north slope to the top of the mountain. Standing at the summit and looking down, I realized that my call to abort the trip two weeks ago seemed like a genius move. The slope is probably between 40 and 50 percent with long and often wet and slick granite shelves. Even with a light, this would have been extremely dangerous to navigate in the dark.

About fifty yards down, poor Rocket had literally had enough of heading straight down the slopes. He actually began to double back on our route like he was going back home. I wonder if he could make the return trip by retracing our steps by scent. After calling him back a couple of times, he abandoned that strategy and began to bear off to the east following the contour. Knowing that straight down was the quickest way to the road, I spent the rest of the descent prodding him to stay with me.

After what seemed forever, which included a butt plant and about a ten feet slide down a slippery and wet slab of granite, we crossed the 100' power line clearing, then down to the gravel road where a cell tower sits. From here we walked down the gravel road to Bowling Gap Circle where we sat down in the grass  and Rocket enjoyed the last of his water and 1/2 of my granola bar. Mission accomplished. All that was left to do was rest our weary legs and wait for our ride to arrive. 

New lessons:  1. Always carry extra batteries for your GPS.
                     2.  Take a topo map and a compass for a back-up...no batteries needed!

Now, I am compelled to make this trip again with fresh batteries so that I can map the route. When I do, you'll see it here. Bushwhacking is much more labor intensive than following a trail, but the sense of excitement, of exploring the back country where not many people have been is worth the effort. Just be smart and safe!

Bushwhacking: Lessons Learned

One of the most exciting ways to explore the mountains and valleys of my home here in North Georgia, is to leave the trail, and bushwhack. You push your way through the forest,whether it consists of dense, choking Laurel and Rhododendron thickets, blow down areas where wind felled trees temporarily block your path, or the classic canopy/forest floor combination. These areas are rarely traveled by man, and you find yourself wondering, 'when was the last time somebody was present in this exact spot?' It's all very neat to explore, not to mention quite a workout. However, some basic rules should be followed, which I found out the hard way.

I recently purchased a quality GPS and couldn't wait to take it into the wilderness as a guide, using the topo maps to direct me to the most gentle approaches to the ridge tops. I decided to enter the National Forest land near the house, make my way up the long first ridge to the summit of the eastern Hullander Knob, traverse a saddle feature, then up the steep slopes of the western Hullander Knob, then follow the ridge top to Mine Mountain, then the steep ascent down to Hwy 76. Easy enough, right? 

If you are planning a day hike excursion, allow yourself enough daylight to complete the trip. I mapped out a route that appeared to be a little over three miles. I usually can cover three miles an hour on an improved trail, so when I left at 3:30pm there wasn't much of a concern that I would run out of daylight. Being somewhat prepared I made sure to pack my flashlight hat just in case. This turned out to be a lifesaving act.

Do not try to apply a "trail pace" to bushwhacking on ridge tops.  Trails generally follow the contour of the land, with a few ascents and descents. When you are traveling the ridge tops, you are going straight up a mountain, then straight down the other side, then straight up the next peak. Simply put, it is exhausting.

By the time I reached the saddle position between the two knobs, it was 6:15pm and dusk was rapidly making its exit. I had to make a decision whether to continue my planned route, or abort the route and drop down into the bottom of Hullander Cove, find the creek and follow it until I hit familiar territory near Collins Lane. I chose the latter. The thought of making my way down a steep slope in the dark was not appealing. I barely managed to complete the 800' drop (which was quite steep in itself) down to the creek bed before darkness required me to put on my flashlight hat.

Following the creek down the cove became an exercise in clearing brush with my face. The foliage was so thick in places, that I had to double back several times and find a new route because the briars were impenetrable. My GPS unit showed a road on the other side of the creek, so I crossed and began the climb up the opposite bank. I kept climbing expecting to find a distinct grade and gravel base, to no avail. Finally I checked the GPS again and it showed that, to my shock, the road had been crossed already. So, back down I went and realized that the "road" was barely a road at all, but a long ago abandoned logging road that consisted of nothing more than a slight cut that was overgrown with underbrush and a downed tree every 100' or so. There's nothing like being exhausted and forced to run a steeplechase in the dark.

It took two hours past dark before I stumbled out of the woods and into a 100' wide power line cut. In between the fog of my breath as it passed through the hat light, the unobstructed sky was clear and full of the most beautiful stars. The absence of the light pollution of civilization had something to do with their beauty, but mostly it was because I knew I was going to be home shortly, enjoying a hot shower.

To wrap it up, my basic tips for safe bushwhacking include starting early, giving yourself time to be finished before dark; always carry a light source; and make sure you have extra batteries for your GPS ( I will talk about that one in the next post).