Tennessee

Nolichucky River Valley {By Mark Fickett (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons}

Trail Miles: 70
Highest Point: Roan Mountain, 6,285 feet

The AT exits the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in the northeastern corner of the  Tennessee.  This stretch of trail is equal parts rugged and splendid.  The peaks here are steep, high, and sometimes rocky.  The Roan High Knob Shelter is along this stretch, and it holds the distinction of being the highest elevation of any backcountry shelter on the trail.  The area is also home to a number of bare mountaintop balds, including Grassy Ridge Bald.  Grassy Ridge is one of the highest balds anywhere in the Eastern US, with an elevation over 6,000 feet, and at over seven miles it is the longest in the Appalachians.  The AT traverses Grassy Ridge Bald.

To think that the trail is leaving the Great Smoky Mountains could give the impression that you might be heading for an easy section.  This impression is wrong.  This is a brutal stretch of trail.  A frustrated hiker named Mic Lowther described it in his trail journal:

"The section between Whistling Gap and Spivey Gap proved to be totally absurd...They run you straight up a hill to see 'splendid views' of the same damn mountains you've seen all week, then dump you over the side for a descent so steep it's barely possible to stand up.  The climb over High Rocks was unnecessary and pointless.  We were all fairly sputtering." (Emblidge 157-158)  

This area is also the home of a small river called the Nolichucky.  The Nolichucky crosses the AT near the small town of Erwin, Tennessee.  There is dispute as to what Nolichucky means.  While there is consensus that the name's origin is Cherokee, the interpretations vary from "spruce-tree place" to "dangerous waters" to the local favorite (and least likely) "river of death."  Whatever the meaning, the area is breathtakingly beautiful.  There is one stretch where the river cuts through the mountains, and a railroad cuts its way through between the river and a wall of rock, just a few hundred feet below where the AT crosses the ridges.  It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.

This stretch of trail reminds me of the power and unpredictability of nature.  I learned this not on the trail, but in the water.  For a number of years, my wife and I attended an annual corporate event held in Johnson City, Tennessee.  As part of the event, there was always an activity day where participants could choose what they wanted to do.  One year, we chose to go on an all-day rafting trip on the Nolichucky River.

There were two different rafting options.  One was the traditional multi-person raft with about six rafters and a guide.  The other option was a little contraption that was basically a single-person inflatable kayak (they had some clever sounding name for it but I can't remember what it was).  I was intrigued by the little kayak thing, so I gave it a shot, while my wife went in the big raft with our friends.  As the guides prepared us for the trip, they were very insistent that the kayak was not easy.  They did everything to warn rafters that they were much more difficult than the big guided rafts.  

I was confident in my abilities to handle the kayak, and I told them I was sure I wanted to try it.  And I tamed the river that day.  I never had a minute's problem, and I didn't even get wet.  As a matter of fact, I stayed so dry that the tops of my legs were severely sunburned from being stretched out in the sunshine all day as I cruised down the river.  I felt like I was an expert at this rafting business.  

The next year, we decided to raft again.  We got to the rafting launch point, and the guides again went through their spiel about how tough the kayak was to maneuver down the river.  Then they added that this year, heavy rains over the past few weeks had made the river much rougher and more dangerous than they had ever seen it before.  They discouraged anyone from using the kayaks because of the high rapids.  I told them I was sure I could handle it.  I had done it before with zero problems and was sure I could do the same this year.

Famous last words...almost.  After no more than ten minutes on the river, I could tell that they were right.  This was the same place I had been last year, but it seemed like a different river.  It was fast, wild, and scary.  I knew I had made a mistake, but it was too late to do anything about it.  Besides, I would have also had to admit I had been overconfident and wrong.  That was not going to happen.  

I went down the rough and fast rapids, and somehow I did make it all the way to the end of the trip.  I was even in the kayak part of the time.  I spent the whole day bouncing off rocks, bruising and scratching arms, legs, feet, back, and front.  I felt like an old sock in an industrial strength washing machine.  I thought I was drowning at least five different times.  It was awful.  I survived but I looked like I had been in a fight with a truckload of gravel.

The power of nature that made my rafting trip a nightmare is a reminder to me of the attention that good hikers pay to the conditions around them.  The weather along the trail is something that must be taken seriously.  A hiker will likely experience every possible element of weather on a thru-hike.  Being aware of what is going on around and having the necessary equipment can be the difference between life and death.