Day 26, near CCC Pavilion to Commissary Hill

The temperature and wind conspired last night to make sleeping difficult. My tent was pitched in a slight depression next to a large clump of rhododendrons, where I hoped to be sheltered against wind gusts. It didn't help much.

Though the wind battered my tent for most of the night, I slept reasonably warm after I put on an extra layer of clothing.

The sky was cloudless but slightly hazy this morning. The temperature was still below freezing, and the wind was only a little less gusty. I hadn't realized until I left my campsite that there was a wide view from this spot. I had been focused only on where to put my tent when I arrived there last night.

My campsite was in an area called Craggy Gardens, an area of almost 600 acres.

A visitor's center was located nearby on the Blue Ridge Parkway, but there was no point for me to go there this morning. It was built in the 1950s, and the aging building no longer has working water pipes. I wouldn't be able to refill my water bottles there.

The Mountains-to-Sea Trail crossed the middle of the pavilion that I checked out yesterday before searching for a tent site. It was constructed of hand-split chestnut and oak timbers. The chestnut logs had been salvaged from dead trees killed by a blight that eradicated the species in the U.S. Stone for the base was quarried in the area.

Construction of the pavilion began in 1936. It was just one of several projects undertaken by a crew from a CCC camp located nearby at Bee Tree Gap. The workers also did road grading and slope stabilization for the Blue Ridge Parkway, but work on it was paused at the start of World War II.

The temperature remained cold well into the morning because the trail was on the shaded side of the mountains. From time to time, I passed ice ribbons erupting from the frozen ground.

When I found a spring that was still flowing, I stopped to refill my water bottle. The FarOut app showed no water sources for the next 10 miles of the MST, and I was relieved to find this one.

Because it was too early in the spring for leaves to appear on trees at this elevation, I would occasionally get views of a ridge that extended north from Mount Mitchell. The mountains here are called the Black Mountains. I couldn't see Mount Mitchell, but I could see Celo Knob (6,329 feet), the highest peak in my view. It was about 12 miles away.

As I looked in that direction, I knew I would follow the ridge tomorrow when I hiked down from Mount Mitchell and into Burnsville. I also knew that would be the most technical section of the entire Appalachian High Route. Parts of it are so steep that ropes are provided to assist in the climbs and descents.

Between where I stood and Celo Knob were 4,000 acres of land called Big Ivy. The headwaters of the Ivy River, a tributary of the French Broad, flow from here. It's said that this area contains one of the largest patches of old-growth forest in the East.

That's a remarkable point to make, considering this area was heavily logged in the early 1900s. Champion Fibre Company, which I've mentioned before, was one of many timber companies that operated on the slopes of Craggy Gardens, Big Ivy, and Mount Mitchell. They had a voracious appetite for timber and cut every tree they could. It's a testament of how rugged these mountains are that many trees remained uncut.

I found evidence of the logging in this area as I approached Bullhead Gap. The trail began to follow what was obviously an old road grade, and perhaps had been the bed of railroad tracks.

After the logging companies left the area, this road was used during the surveying and construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The trail crossed the parkway at Bullhead Gap. I was now on the other side of Craggy Dome. At last, I was out of the shadows of the mountain and walking in warming sunshine.

From Graybeard Overlook on the parkway, I could look down again into the Asheville Watershed Conservation Area. A range of mountains stood on the other side of the wide valley. Among the peaks was Graybeard Mountain (5,410 feet), a little over four miles away.

When I stopped to enjoy the view, the time was 10:20 a.m. At this point, I had walked only 2.6 miles, but I wasn't yet aware of that because I hadn't looked at the map.

I stopped again at 11:25 a.m. when I found a rock outcropping. It was a good spot to sit and eat lunch in warm sunshine.

This is where I checked my mileage, and I was horrified to discover I had only walked four miles in 3.5 hours. I immediately knew if I kept this pace, I wouldn't reach the campsite at Commissary Hill until well after dark. It was important for me to get there because it was the only backpacker campsite near Mount Mitchell. What's more, if I couldn't stay there tonight, my chance of getting to Burnsville tomorrow would be in doubt.

As I thought about this problem, I remembered that I was somewhat familiar with the next section of the MST. I hiked it once in 2006. That was so long ago that my memory of the trail conditions was a little fuzzy. I was unsure if I could make up some lost time in that section, but based on the trail so far today, it seemed unlikely.

Less than a mile past my lunch stop, the trail dropped to Balsam Gap and crossed the parkway. When I stopped at the road to check for cars, I realized it was closed. This and some other parts of the parkway are closed during the winter months.

Knowing now that there would be no traffic, I checked the map, which convinced me to walk the parkway instead of the trail. The mileage would be nearly identical either way, but I could walk on the road much faster. There would be no climbs, rocks, roots, or other obstacles to slow me down. It seemed like I could save as much as two hours by walking on the road.

There was an added benefit of walking the road, which I didn't consider until I had gone a mile or so. There was more scenery to look at and many views. From when I made a solo day hike to the summit of Blackstock Knob in June 2006, I remembered only one or two spots with a view. The mountaintop was densely covered in trees.

After a little under 4.5 miles of walking on the parkway, I reached a barricade that stopped vehicles from entering the road. Just beyond it was the entrance to Mount Mitchell State Park.

The road into the park was opened in 1922, seven years after the North Carolina legislature created the state park, the first in the state. Before the road opened, tourists had to travel to the mountaintop by train, which remained after Clifton McClure Lumber Company ceased logging in the area.

I only had to walk on the park road for 6/10th of a mile before rejoining the MST.

Soon, the trail began to follow the path of an old logging railroad bed from the same rail line. When the area was actively logged, the tracks extended all the way to the town of Black Mountain. Clifton McClure Lumber Company only operated in the area for a couple of years before ceasing operation in 1914. By that time, most of the trees surrounding Mount Mitchell had been removed.

When I found a stream crossing the trail, I stopped to refill my water bottles. I knew there was a water source at the campsite, but descriptions of it said it wasn't easy to reach.

I arrived at the backcountry campsite at Commissary Hill at 5:45 p.m. The site was large and mostly flat, and it was equipped with two nearly-new bear boxes. Three men on a weekend backpacking trip were also camped there.

Commissary Hill got its name because that's how this area was used during logging operations. A large commissary building once stood on this site, serving as a supply and storage area for the logging camps higher on Mount Mitchell's slopes.

Though I might have been able to get to the campsite before dark by following the trail, I didn't regret taking an easier route to get here. I couldn't have known for sure how long it would have taken me if I had stayed on the MST.

For that matter, I'm unsure how long it will take me to reach Burnsville tomorrow. All I know about the trail ahead is what I've read. It doesn't appear to be an easy route, and there won't be a road alternate.

I'll be following the Black Mountain Crest Trail, a rocky footpath that will take me steeply up and over some of the area's tallest mountains. There will be more than 3,200 feet of ascent and roughly 6,000 feet of descent.

One reviewer on the AllTrails app said the Black Mountain Crest Trail was "Not for the faint of heart." Another said, "Death March sums it up pretty well."

Certainly, this will be the most strenuous day of the entire Appalachian High Route. I'm grateful I made today a little easier than it would have been otherwise.

This winding road I've been on for 26 days in parts of the last year is coming to an end. It could be a wild ending. It might be arduous. I won't know that until tomorrow.