MaAfee Knob

My workplace has a tradition of celebrating staff birthdays with an array of treats in the break room of our small office.  Some sort of poster with the celebrant's name typically announces the occasion.  Such posters in my office are well done--we have a talented graphics specialist and first rate equipment.  The poster that greeted my recent birthday was no exception.  It showed an me standing on  McAfee Knob, with Virginia mountains beyond the precipice behind me.  My image was slightly oversized and cropped from a group photo of the entire staff.  My stance and clothing are at odds with the setting.  Nonetheless, that image, combined with a smaller image of an Appalachian Trail sign post, evoked the romance of the trail.

Recalling the actual event doesn't do much for the romance, however.  I crossed McAfee Knob on a long, hot and humid early June day.  That morning I scrambled down the rocky descent from the Dragons Tooth with hiking partners, Red and Gary.  We bought supplies and some microwave food at a small store just off the trail and ate in the only shade available, hard by a kerosene storage tank.  The afternoon was long, across open fields  with no shade followed by a hike over a dry ridge.  I ran out of water.  A day hiker at a parking area gave me enough to make it to the next water source.

We made the climb to Johns Spring Shelter as quickly as we could with flagging energy, arriving around 4:00.  A thunderstorm was building to the west as we reached the shelter.  A large crowd of hikers, most known to us, was there ahead us us.  With the storm approaching I hustled to water up and cook dinner.  I made it into the shelter, gear and dinner in hand(s), as rain began to fall.  The rainfall was heavy with crashing thunder and lightning.  It went on for a while and even when the rain lessened, there was still sporadic thunder and lightning.  Those of us who were planning to continue over McAfee Knob that evening wanted to get moving but all hesitated.

Three hikers were the first to leave.  Rain was still falling but not hard so they took the chance.  It wasn't long before two returned, unwilling to hike under the high voltage transmission lines--all that metal!-- in a lightning storm.  By the time Red,Gary and I left the storm was well past.  We climbed the rest of the way up McAfee Knob, passing under those power lines.  The air was incredibly humid after the storm, more so than the morning which somehow didn't seem possible.  The climb was tedious.  I have little memory of the Knob itself.  By the time I topped out on the mountain, it was late and I was tired.  I probably walked out and looked but I didn't dawdle and I sure didn't handstand.  I pushed on to my night's destination, Pig Farm Campsite.  Since that site was also filled with hikers, we ended up camping in a nearby open area not far removed from the power line right-of-way (the same one, farther east).  A marginal end to a brutal day. 

Sounds brutal, doesn't it?  But early next morning I walked along Tinker Cliffs with a cool breeze blowing across my face.  Like McAfee Knob, the cliffs are a rocky ledge with a very long view.  Whatever I missed the evening before I found on this memorable morning.  Despite a restless night, I felt good as I made my way that morning.  Even the restless night had a redeeming moment when I saw fireflies for the first time in decades.  After Tinker Cliffs the day got long--15 miles--but we had plenty of water and ended up in a motel that night.

As I recall what was objectively a rough day, I conclude simply that somehow, it all worked, that I'm happy with how it turned out. That "somehow" is the romance of the trail, that finding of balance in the fabric of the many events that make up the day. It's a way of walking in beauty no matter what circumstances may be.  Although the image of McAfee Knob conjures up memories of a tough day on the trail, memories of the following day balanced it out in real time.  Looking back after ten years, It all seems fine.