This past weekend GetBackpacking! set an SKT — Slowest Known Time. In this case, the Slowest Known Time for a lunch break on a backpacking trip.

* * *

Before we set out Saturday morning from our campsite at Yellow Mountain Gap on the Appalachian Trail, I outlined the morning plan. “We’ve got a long climb — 900 vertical feet in 1.7 miles — up to Little Hump Mountain. We’ll take a break there. Then head on to Hump Mountain for lunch.”

The afternoon before we’d started from Carver’s Gap around 1:30. “The first mile is one long great view,” I explained. “Sunset isn’t until 8:03, so we’ve got plenty of time.”

I’d made a variation of that speech on at least a dozen previous trips on this revered 14-mile run of the AT from Carver’s Gap to US 19E. The backpackers are always glad to hear there’s no rush — then proceed to rush after paying brief homage to the more deserving views. Maybe spend 5 minutes at Round Bald, taking in the 360-degree views of everything from Roan High Knob to Grassy Ridge to ridge after ridge fading west into Tennessee, a few minutes less at adjoining Jane Bald. The grass is always greener at the next bald, apparently.

But this group was different. We hung out at Round Bald for a good 15 minutes, stayed nearly as long at Jane Bald. Even after descending into the mountain ash forest at Roan Mountain, we stopped frequently, for the wildflowers (white snakeroot, yellow sneezeweed), to check out a briskly running spring, to enjoy more wildflowers.

To be clear, these three hikers weren’t stopping to catch their breath. I’d hiked with all three before: Marie had done one of the toughest trips we do, the four-day, 37-mile Virginia Triple Crown; Nick’s done several trips, including the rugged Joyce Kilmer Wilderness; and Sue has done most of our trips and had just gotten back from a 7-day trip with the Sierra Club in the White Mountains. They’re three of the strongest folks I hike with.

With all the stops we still made it to camp before 5 p.m. — three hours before sunset, with plenty of time to enjoy camp.

* * *

When we set out Saturday morning — sleeping in and leaving camp around 9 — I was prepared for another leisurely day on the trail. We stopped about 15 minutes in at a clearing overlooking where we’d camped. We stopped a short while later to check out an ancient barbed wire fence atop the razor-sharp ridge (“They had cattle up here?”). We stopped to check out a likewise perplexing ridgeline roadbed that had once, presumably, served a vital function. When we topped 5,453-foot Little Hump Mountain, we dropped our packs and settled in for the view. 

Fifteen minutes later we were back on the trail, descending off the bald into another mountain ash forest, then into Bradley Gap at the base of Hump Mountain, the entire mile-long climb visible before us.

“We’ll stop for lunch at the top,” I said.

I’ve done this trip in good weather in the past (I’ve also done it in blinding rain), but the conditions this past weekend were the best I’d ever seen. The temperature was in the upper 60s, early on there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. When we reached the top of Hump Mountain a few scattered and harmless white clouds were drifting in from the west. We stopped at a rock outcrop with a plaque honoring Stan Murray, founder of the Southern Appalachian Highlands Conservancy, the perfect place to stretch out for lunch. 

“We’ll hang out here a little longer than usual,” I said. “How does an hour sound?” Later, Sue said she was expecting me to say 20 minutes. “You rarely get a lunch break that long on a guided hike.”

After an hour had come and gone, I surveyed my fellow hikers. One appeared to be asleep; one, who’d set up her Helinox camp chair, appeared to be in a trance; one was gazing intently to the southeast. “It’s only a little over an hour to camp,” I said. “If we leave now, we’ll be there by 2:30. You good with staying here a while longer?” They were. So we stayed another hour.

I recall maybe 10 words being said that whole time. I drifted in and out of a light sleep, thoughts pingponging to unexpected places. At first, I smelled a hamburger, a specific hamburger, one from the grill at a pool where I grew up. That made me think of water and my Mike Nelson phase, which made me think of Gragg Prong in the Wilson Creek area, the best summer swimming hole in the Southeast. I thought about my first swimming hole, a mountain reservoir near where I went to school, where I spent a summer diving into its icy waters, then sunning on its exposed granite. I remembered that odd, orange glow on the insides of my closed eyelids, the same glow I was feeling now. It was the feeling of being young, without a care in the world. It was the holy grail of being in the wild.

* * *

As our shuttle driver was unloading us at Carver’s Gap Friday, one of our group said, “Well, maybe we’ll see you again on Sunday.”

“Sunday?” he huffed. “You’re taking two nights to do this? You’re gonna get bored.” 

It struck me as an odd thing to say for someone who makes a living based on hikers’ love affair with these mountains. It also struck me as flat out wrong. Later, recalling the exchange, I told the group, “You could do this trail every week for the rest of your life and not get bored.”

Especially when you take the time to enjoy.

* * *

Last chances

Eager for that feel-like-a-kid feeling on the trail? We have two that can’t miss.

GetBackpacking! Virginia’s Triple Crown. We have one more backpack trip on the schedule this year, one more opportunity this year to feel young! It’s a four-day, 35-mile trip in late October taking in Virginia’s Triple Crown: McAfee Knob, Tinker Cliffs and Dragon’s Tooth. Learn more and sign up to join us here. Two spots remain.

GetHiking! Weekend Classic Escape on the AT at Hot Springs. Not into camping but love hiking? We’ve got one other last chance just for you, our GetHiking! Fall Weekend Escape on the Appalachian Trail at Hot Springs. Stay in the Hot Springs Lodge/Cabins, enjoy two days of late fall (first weekend in November) hiking on the Appalachian Trail. Learn more and sign up to join us here.