Winter camping. In April. In North Carolina.

So, here's what happened:

To our amazement, our backpacking adventure started with snow. A local outfitter dropped us off at the north end of the Art Loeb trail as the flurries started coalescing into big, fat flake-balls. The forecast predicted Sunday night would be the coldest and there may be some light snowfall. So off we went in the warmest gear we had packed and our rainjackets.

The plan was to spend 2 nights on the trail and hike through the 30 miles back to the southern trailhead, where we had parked the Volvo. Things didn't go exactly as anticipated, starting with a time-consuming scramble to find a ride to the trailhead after the outfitter we originally planned to use informed us they could no longer operate a shuttle. I will go ahead and spoil the surprise and tell you we had a great time and everything was totally fine (and be warned: portions of this tale definitely make us sound foolish/deranged). But there was a bit of excitement and a tense (haha--tents?) moment or two along the way. Here's my version of events:

Steep, rocky, rugged and beautiful terrain, all the more so with a dusting of snow.

Still just a dusting--nothing to worry about, right? Just an ephemeral, whimsical bit of fun to add some vividness to the telling of the tale....

...except that it kept on snowing and snowing, and as we ascended the side of the mountain and started along the ridge, the wind picked up, the terrain became steeper, rockier, and more treacherous, and the daylight started to wane.

We pressed on in search of a campsite further along the trail to compensate for our late start Monday afternoon. But, finding none and feeling the acute need to find a safe place to spend the night, we turned back and retraced our steps for at least a mile to go back to a site we had passed quite a bit earlier. Demoralizing as it was to turn back in the opposite direction, it was the only prudent decision under the circumstances (but wouldn't you know it? The next morning we discovered a campsite not 300 yards beyond where we turned back. Oy.)

With a huge sigh of relief, we rediscovered the campsite and threw our tent together still with some daylight. At that point there was nothing to do but zip ourselves into our sleeping bags and try to warm up, so by 7:30 pm that's exactly what we had done. And we did not emerge from the safety of our bags for the next 12 hours. For dinner it was trail mix, mini snickers bars, and sad, cold pb & j sandwiches on whole wheat pita, eaten from inside our bags, only sticking our arms far enough out of our bags to assemble and consume that humble meal. Not the hearty rice skillet camp dinner I had planned, but edifying enough.

The wind continued to howl like a banshee around us up there at 6,000 feet on top of that ridge, and as it grew dark, we could hear snow falling and falling on the tent as the hours passed. It must have gotten down to about 20 or so degrees, but thanks to modern sleeping bags, thermal layers, fleece hats, and an extra pair of socks (truly the difference between feeling cold and insecure and feeling quite comfortable), we survived. We were even quite toasty snuggled safely inside and protected from the wild weather outside. Lloyd remarked ruefully that our 3 season tent was by definition ill-equipped for our unexpected winter camping, but it held up like a champ. We woke in the morning to find this:

Wow. Snow, and lots of it. More than we'd seen in Durham all winter. But, the sun shone bright and full of promise, and having somehow stayed dry and warm all night, our spirits buoyed and we surprised ourselves by deciding to go on (at my lowest moments the evening before I was imagining hiking down the 6 or so miles back to the trailhead and begging a ride back to our car, retreating to Asheville, finding a nice hotel with a spa and fancy restaurant...). We also knew the forecast predicted a warming trend (although it had also only predicted scattered flurries, so, we took that with a dose of skepticism).

Mmmmm, hot chocolate. Make you feel like a million bucks.

Lloyd's fancy rigging job of the vestibule of the tent.

Winter wonderland.

Within an hour of starting out we were pleased with our decision to continue. And by a few hours in we were rewarded with stunning views of the surrounding mountains and valleys and congratulated ourselves on our hardy natures. Definitely worth the price of admission.

For the record it did warm up; by late afternoon only patches of snow remained except in the darkest, most densely wooded areas.

A few more exciting moments still awaited us, including a wrong turn at the end of day 2 that left us confused and also quite lost. But just when we were starting to worry that the end of the day was fast approaching and we hadn't found the camp shelter the map said we should have already come across and we were facing the possibility of having to find flattest spot to make a camp for the night...the trail intersected with a little mountain road and we waved down the first car to come by.

Fortunately, its occupants were two of the kindest, most generous human beings ever. All we hoped for from them was information about where we were to get back on the right trail and make camp for the night. But when they offered us a ride back to our car, at least a 45 minute drive, totally out of their way, we took them up on it. The gentleman was an experienced outdoorsman who sympathized with our plight. So, in a matter of moments we went from the low of realizing that we were most likely lost and had no idea where to go or when we might get there, to jubilation at the sight of a road and the possibility of solving the mystery of where we were, to complete euphoria at being in a nice little Honda Civic en route back to our Volvo. Lloyd and I had hamburgers, french fries and beers for dinner and set up the tent in the same Pisgah National Forest campground where we had spent the first night before starting our hike, at the southern trailhead. Then we collapsed in absolute exhaustion.

And there ended our assault on the Art Loeb trail. With our late start on day 1 and the time we lost because of weather on days 1 and 2, we had already realized we wouldn't be able to finish the 12 or so mile hike we had left to do the next day to get back to the car (even without a costly wrong turn). But we did about 20 miles in a day and a half and saw incredible scenery along the way and generally really enjoyed ourselves and our adventure. Sitting here writing this in the well-appointed warmth of the kitchen, I wish we could have another go at it right now. As it is, that will probably have to wait a while. But we're determined to have another try at hiking the full trail through. Maybe next time in June, when the rhododendrons are in bloom?

Back at home, it was an incredible thrill to get flying hugs from June and kiss her sweet head after our first trip together without her. She and Grandma and Grandpa had had a wonderful, happy, warm time here on Green Street, a fact for which we were tremendously grateful. Thanks, mom and dad. You're wonderful grandparents.

*****

In other news, a big shout out to our friends Katie and Wade and Jennifer and Chris who between the 4 of them welcomed 2 beautiful baby boys into the world last Monday, April 14th. Asa Thomas and Grover Henry, we're so glad you're both here! Congratulations to you all on such an amazing event! We all 3 can't wait to meet you!