McAfee's Knob 2007-07-15

McAfee's Knob Trail Report: Over the years, I have spent most of my breaks from school dreaming up camping trips to remote rivers and mountains, seeking out the most beautiful and sometimes challenging encounters with nature that I could find. Finally, I was able to realize my dream for an intense and breathtaking experience with nature at McAfee's Knob in Catawba, VA. The fact that the climb to the Knob, the most photographed spot on the Appalachian Trail, was so strenuous is what turns a breathtaking experience into a story. It is because I had never hiked with a pack before, to such high elevation even more, that I could have a story to narrate such unexplainable pictures that you see at the end of this post.

Upon arriving at the parking lot on VA-311, I could hardly wait to get on the trail. The drive along VA-311 into Catawba (near Roanoke) was like something out of a car commercial, as the road quite dramatically winds through the mountains. Intense grades and twists actually make it a daunting yet adolescently enjoyable task, certainly whetting one's appetite for the climb that is to come. Cain and I quickly packed our things (too quickly as we would later find out), strapped on our packs, and headed across the road to an immediately breathtaking stone staircase.

The hike did in fact start out as a breathtaking experience. Only thing is, it wasn't breathtaking because of its beauty. It was just down right exhausting, and just a hundred yards in, we were spent. Huffing and puffing, discussing how we were out of shape flat-landers, we reached the registration board and officially began our trip along the AT. We took a brief moment to read a few notes in the registration journal, signed our names, and moved along. The wonder of the view we were soon to achieve was so enticing that nothing was going to hold our attention for very long until we arrived at our final destination.

The hike continued to be quite strenuous, yet we walked at a very brisk pace. Each of us had about 30-40 pounds on our back, which very quickly became annoying up the steep trails that would eventually take us to 3200 ft elevation. Although, the weight was bearable and satisfying. There was something pure and authentic about carrying all our gear on our backs and spending the night on the mountain. I actually drew encouragement as we passed other people without packs; they looked at us with awe and they seemed impressed with our desire to hike with all that just to sleep up the mountain. In fact, most people gave us encouragement as we passed and commended us for our efforts. My pride swelled, and I felt like a true outdoorsman, a real mountain man and trail expert, when in reality I was just an exhausted flat-lander who was too stubborn to accept anything less than the most extreme way of experiencing McAfee's Knob.

Along the way, we encountered a variety of wildlife, including lizards, vultures, caterpillars, and deer. There were wild berries, deep forest, and intimidating rock slabs that were so dominant that footbridges had to be built over their steep grade to allow safe passing. We stopped a number of times for water and photos, but still managed to walk at a brisk pace. It only ended up taking us about 2 hours to get to the top, which in my mind is impressive for a few first-timers climbing 1200 ft over 3.5 miles with up to 40 pounds on our backs.

As we approached the highly anticipated moment of victory atop McAfee's Knob, the trail became extremely rocky and steep. Loose rock on the painfully steep trail made walking difficult, and we were entering a realm of exhaustion. Yet the drive to make it to the top was overpowering, and after a painful final few hundred feet, a clearing emerged. A sign confirmed our suspicion of accomplishment: McAfee Knob 3197 ft. We were there.

The view from the Knob was unbelievable to say the least. We threw off our packs (as we had been wishing to do for about the last 2 miles), finished off a water bottle, and dangled our feet over the cliffs we had just conquered. The view was unreal, and I couldn't believe what was before me. One thing was apparent: pictures were not going to tell the real story of what McAfee's Knob really looks like. We sat in silence, in awe of the spectacle. Vultures flew over the ridges ahead, and birds sang through the valley like nature's own orchestra. It was a sight to behold, to sit above the ridges, above the tress, and even above the birds' song. There was plenty of room along the overlook to pace up and down, catching a glimpse of the most spectacular view from every angle we could. In just a moment, all of the treacherous walking had suddenly become worth it.

After falling in love with the Catawba Valley below and the unbelievable view, we decided to press on and continue exploring our way to our campsite. We had plenty of time as the hike didn't take as long as expected, so we figured later in the afternoon would hold a return trip to the brilliance of the Knob. After our descent down through Devil's Kitchen, that idea quickly faded away. We had heard the .9 mi trek down the other side of the mountain was steep, but we had no idea it was this steep. The trail was extremely narrow, and thus required more precise passing than before. The path was loose, which meant one wrong step and you were sliding down a slippery slope of dry pine needles and similar forest carpeting that blanketed the mountainside. It was .9 miles of switchbacks, stepping over fallen trees, and clinging to tree branches around difficult turns.

Finally arriving at our campsite, we were pleased to see a picnic table, fire pit, and home for our tent for the night. Once again we eagerly threw off our packs and collapsed on the table. One thing was apparent before anything else: we weren't going back up that trail again tonight. Our feet were sore and our legs shot, we were hungry and thirsty. It was time to set up camp.

After scarfing down some water and energy bars, we elected to first set up our tent. This was a comical experience, not because it was a disaster trying to set it up, but because once it was up, we couldn't tell if it was the actual tent or one of those model tents they put on the store shelves to show you what a life-size version would look like. It was that small. We decided to deal with that issue later though, as it was now nap time. Cain found his way to the tent while I decided to leave my gear with him and hike back up to the Knob.

I couldn't resist. As I sat there and stared into the deep forest, I heard the Knob calling me out. It was such an enticing view that I had to ignore my blisters and sore legs in favor of one more glimpse of greatness. I fought my way back up through Devil's Kitchen, returning to the Knob with great satisfaction. This time, I had it all to myself. The sun was setting and the breeze was chilling. It was almost creepy being there alone, but it was a new experience in itself. I'm glad I trekked to the spot by myself, because it offered an intimacy with the experience that is quite memorable.

Later that night, after Cain's nap and my solitary excursion at the Knob, it was finally dinnertime. We cooked at our campsite as the risk of a bear visit was apparently slim, and we were too tired to go anywhere else anyway. We warmed up some food on the propane stove, and enjoyed some stew and barbecue sandwiches. Although, we had left our forks in the car when we rushed ourselves onto the trail upon arrival, so I had to cut the bottoms off some empty waterbottles to function as spoons. The meal was satisfying, and after cleaning our mess we lit a fire in the fire ring and waited for darkness to fall.

We couldn't see any stars as we were in thick woods, and for the most part it was pitch black outside. There were no bugs, which made it easy to sit around the fire and peer into the darkness of the woods. The wind was picking up, so we let the fire cool and headed off to bed, jamming ourselves in our miniature tent. The designated tent site happened to be on a slight hill, which made sleeping even harder, but I think we were so tired, we managed to get at least some rest.

The next morning, we were awakened by a deer walking through our campsite. It was searching for food apparently, and was comfortable enough with our presence that it wasn't startled when we woke up and poked out heads out to watch it. The deer looked back at us, then back down to the ground to mind his business. We sat for about 2-3 minutes watching the deer, before it finally walked off disappointed that we hadn't left any food for its taking.

Breakfast was quick, we cooked our remaining sausages (which we had hung in a bag off a tree 50 yards away from out campsite during the night) and ate an energy bar. Then, after cleaning up and making sure we left nothing behind, we once again hit the trail. The walk up through Devil's Kitchen was once again breath taking, in the most challenging sense once again. It was painful and unrewarding, offering just one small overlook of a nearby mountain where trees had been cleared for a powerline. However, we knew there was one reward at the end: McAfee's Knob, this time an early morning encounter.

The view in the morning was twice as nice. Fog rolled over the hills and elegantly highlighted their depth. The sun peaked over a ridge, and the birds once again played their tune, animating the valley. It was now that I realized this was something that everyone has to see, not matter how difficult they find the hike. We sat, dangling our legs over the cliff and savoring every second with sheer joy. There was a sense of completeness sitting there, a oneness with God and sense of accomplishment for our toils. Before leaving, we captured a few more photos of ourselves on the Knob and offered our final farewells to the most beautiful thing I've ever seen not named Laura Trotta.

As we began our hike down the mountain, we couldn't help but feel an incredible sense of victory in the air. We were the only ones on the mountain, the morning was cool, and we had just survived our first AT camping trip while getting to see one of Virginia's most beautiful sites. The hike down was hard, although not hard like it was coming up. The way up was a take your breath away, punch you in the stomach and stub your toe hard. This descent was brutal on our already tired legs, more just wearing than anything.

Within a mile of reaching VA-311, where our car was parked, we finally ran into someone else. A local man from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy was just hitting the trail, looking for fallen trees that may have covered the path during last night's wind. We sat and chatted for about 10 minutes, and his company was quite pleasant. He offered us each an apple, which at that point was much needed as we were out of water and hungry, and he also tipped us off on some lesser known views that we should check out along the trail next time. Sharing this conversation with this man added to the mystique of the trip, as we were able to experience the camaraderie of the AT while discussing our adventures on the trail.

After our conversation with the kind gentleman, we finally were able to finish our return trip. We signed out at the registration board, confirming our safe return and reporting our great night in the woods. It was here that every sentiment described above became official: I was now a successful outdoorsman and a trail aficionado, confirmed in the record book kept at the registration board. McAfees Knob was now my friend, and I was a part of the AT community.