BRRRRRRR...--Trip 2

When we got up this morning, the temperature in Marion, North Carolina, was 44 degrees, but weathermen reported the reading on Grandfather Mountain, our destination for the day, was 29.7 degrees. Drew said Connecticut was in the 60's. Sounds a bit backwards, but the politicians say that it's not manmade global warming. All I know is that it's cold here for October 1! And the grey skies and heavy clouds are not doing much psychologically to suggest warmth.
We headed back up the mountainside at 8:15 a.m. Lots of leaves and twigs came down last night with 15-20 m.p.h. winds. They cluttered the road and blocked the trails. What remains on the trees is predominantly green, probably due to the overabundance of rain this year. Since the major hardwood trees are not maples, the vistas lack the oranges and reds that color the New England autumns.

At Green Knob Overlook the camera went ballistic. It hummed and buzzed, unable to focus between the dark pine trees and the hardwood green below and the sun filtering through a heavy grey snow cloud overhead. Readings varied from "200" to capture the forest to "3200" to keep the sky from over-exposing. And it was cold to be out without a jacket. Andy let me test the temperature while he waited in the car at 4,602 feet. BRRRRRrrr... At Mile Post 350 we saw snow flurries, 4,760 feet.

Five U.S. Forest Service trails of short distances, that we would have liked to walk, were poorly marked, so instead we turned around and went back to a longer and much more strenuous Crabtree Falls Loop Trail at Mile Post 339.5.

Eastern diamondbacks and copperheads live in the woods of North Carolina, but no worries about snakes today! We completed a strenuous three-mile loop trail to Crabtree Falls and back through the amphitheater and deserted campgrounds. The tiniest snow flakes stung our faces as we crossed Camp Loop B.

"Rain or drizzle?" asked Andy.

"No," I told him. "It's definitely frozen. It's white on my camera case."

All around us yellow and brown chestnut and oak leaves crunched under our feet as we made our way along the steep slopes and over the craggy, rock-strewn trail. In the distance, clouds enveloped the top of Mount Mitchell and drifted down into the valley, as wind gusts played in the trees around us. "It's probably snowing there," said Andy. "Since we won't see anything, I'm not paying to drive to the top in that today."

Glassmine Falls, 800 feet in the distance, wasn't much to see. We could pick out rock ledges but no water coming down. Instead, the wind picked up in icy gusts.

Around the bend at Mile Post 363, ice covered the trees in a white film. An ice cloud veiled Craggy Dome View at 5,640 feet. The cold mist wrapped around the 6,085-foot dome in sheets, turning everything an icy white. We sat, hoping the sun would burn off the mist and let in the blue.

We stopped at the Craggy Dome Visitor Center and warmed our hands over the wood stove. "It's 35 degrees out right now," said the ranger, "but with the wind chill, it feels like the temperature is 23 degrees."

"I'll give you $20 for that hood," said an older man outside in the parking lot, as I pulled the tie cords on my jacket hood. I wasn't even tempted.
We tried the half-mile trail to Rattlesnake Lodge, labeled an easy "walk in the woods." After climbing at least a quarter mile straight up, we turned back. Ahead of us we could see the trail going up. Andy decided the quarter mile was enough. "I wish the sun would stay out," he said, "even for a walk in the woods."

Since clouds dominated the weather, we headed to Asheville. But first we stopped at the Folk Art Center and browsed through displays of handcrafted products by 1,000 artisans. Some of the quilts were priced at more than $4,000. The upstairs museum featured even more valuable pieces on display. A few miles away tourists gathered at the Visitor Center, where we checked out the pamphlets and read about Appalachian folk culture.

Much to our surprise, Asheville sponsored a street fair downtown. We parked to see the booths; many sales people had packed up because of the late afternoon cold.

As we walked closer, we realized the four or five-block event was a Gay Pride celebration. Asheville, home of the University of North Carolina, obviously champions tolerance. A nun rode past on an eight-foot high bicycle. A street preacher bellowed his sermon over and over to no one, as students in odd garb held up signs berating his message. A street performer dressed completely in white stood statue-like until passersby dropped money in his white top hat. Then he performed on a white guitar. Everyone seemed in good humor, in spite of the cold. A gentleman even bestowed beads on us for a $1.00 donation to promote equality.

"Sure," said Andy. "I'm all for equality."