December 26th-29th, 1999 -- Spruce Knob NRA, West Virginia
1999 Winter Hike
Story by Marty Lamp with photos by Marty Lamp and Don Parks
Check out the 1997 Winter Hike
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The view from the top of West Virginia |
Some may wonder why anyone would want to spend days in below-freezing
weather, trudging up and down some of the roughest terrain that West
Virginia has to offer. "Is it really enjoyable?" you may ask. Most
likely, the response to that question would be a warm stare followed by a
contented smile...as with most real things in life that help shape your
soul, it's always more fun talking about it later, laughing at any
pain that was involved, and thinking to yourself that it really wasn't
that bad.
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Greg and Dennis enjoy lunch on the Huckleberry Trail |
From the beginning, things were typical. Only minimal plans were
made. That always seems the best for this kind of quest. We were out
here to escape the structure and constraints of a heavily populated
society. Out here, a fat wallet is nothing more than dead weight; you
can't eat it, and it won't keep you warm. Out here, the only clock to
care about was hanging low across the southern sky during the day, and
turning a very cold shoulder to us during the night. Out here,
everything is seen in it's proper perspective.
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Brad and Emory on Swallow Rock Run Trail |
We continue to gain altitude, and the wind gains speed. It bites at
any exposed flesh, and it urges the trees to dance in unison, cracking
and creaking as they sway. The temperature has dropped 10 degrees in
the last 2 hours, but our exertions force us to stop and shed a layer
of clothing. For a moment, guilt creeps over me as I think about how
easy modern technology has made it for us to cope with Mother Nature,
given the advent of Gore-Tex, fleece, and countless other
synthetics. The cold forces a short break, and the guilt starts to
slowly ebb away with each step, and it is replaced with a stoic respect for
all those sojourners of years past who crossed this land with nothing
more than a trusty weapon and an unmatched will to live.
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Mike and Emory preparing the evening meal |
After a restful evening, we awake to single digit temps, and 2 inches
of fresh snow. Food is quickly consumed, as our gear is packed with
numbed fingers, and our minds are filled with anticipation of getting
to Spruce Knob via the Huckleberry Trail. As the sun reached it's
summit in the sky, so did we. The wind was howling as it stung our
smiling faces. The scenery was incredible. Rolling, snow covered
mountains at every direction, sharply defined and visible through
leafless trees.
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The boys on top of it all |
This is it... this is why we are here. We aren't doing anything
spectacular, or anything worthy of some kind of special
recognition. We aren't gifted athletes. Our motivations are pure. This
is where we belong, this is our land. We haven't seen another soul,
and right now, this belongs to us. I feel like I have just come home
after being thousands of miles away. I breathe deep, and I feel so
alive. I have 360 degree tunnel vision.
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Mike, Emory, and Marty on day three |
We spend the next 2 days walking through and enjoying the
snow-covered beauty all around us. Much of the time spent walking is
in solitude, but the evening camp is always full of spirited
conversations. Everyone takes their turn being the object of ridicule,
singled out by the rest of the group like a pack of wolves devouring
the weakest among them. It's good for us all, it keeps us honest, it
keeps us close. We know that this hike, like the body we reside in,
can't last forever, and that we are no match for Mother Nature. It
seems great strength can be gained by knowing just how weak and
vulnerable we are.
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