- Jan 2, 2006
- 10,455
- 35
- 91
EDIT: This trip was last last spring break, during a time when the road up to Clingman's Dome was still closed due to snow. There was absolutely no one else on the mountain.
So I went to Great Smokey Mountains to go backpacking and hike up Clingman's Dome, the second highest peak east of the Mississippi. It's a pretty tough, slow going hike up to the peak because of all the deep snow that one has to trudge through during Spring. At around 2PM I was halfway to the top, and I had a choice between hiking to a designated campground to spend the night, and then in the morning hike to the top, or hike all the way to the top all in one go, get some sunset pictures, make an inpromptu shelter somewhere, and wake up early the next morning and get some sunrise pictures, all with the lovely vistas that only Clingman's Dome could afford. I couldn't pass up the photo opportunity. Besides, I had heard that there was an observation tower at the top and I figured I could just walk in, close the door behind me, and have a nice shelter.
I made it to the top about an hour before sunset, only to discover that the observation tower was an open-air design, and was actually the LEAST protected from the elements anywhere. I made a quick dinner and took sunset pictures with frigid hands. The wind was blowing strong over the snow capped mountain, strong and cold enough to make the electronics in my camera malfunction here and there. When the sun finally set, I realized that I was on top of a snowy mountain all by myself, with the temperature well below freezing and with no natural cover over than the skinny, needle-less evergreens. I realized that pitching a tent would be suicide because there was no way in hell that my tent and sleeping bag would keep me warm out in the wind.
Luckily, at the base of the observation tower I found a room in which I could spend the night:
http://img252.imageshack.us/my.php?image=p1010057copy4dk.jpg
http://img252.imageshack.us/my.php?image=p1010059copy4zt.jpg
http://img252.imageshack.us/my.php?image=p1010061copy1tp.jpg
http://www.aeden.plus.com/florida05/sm5/l03.jpg
Needless to say, it was really, really creepy. The long hall-like room led off into darkness, made only darker by the dark stones used to construct it. The rusted iron door would creak as it was being opened, and there was no lock to ward off intruders.
That night was horrible. The cold stone ground sapped most of my body heat through my bag and pad, and the temperature was so cold that the inside of my bag just couldn't trap my body heat. I had full body shivers. Teeth chattering for hours straight. At around 2AM and with me still awake, I heard the snow outside crunching underneath something... or someone's.... footsteps.
Then I heard the iron door squeak open.
Then I felt a presence beside me.
Keep in mind that this is in a narrow hallway-like room, about 5 feet across. I was next to one of the walls, completely encased, face and all, in my sleeping bag. SOMETHING was moving right next to me, making little patter sounds on the concrete.
As far as I was concerned that something could be one of three things:\
1. Bear. Bad. I might be able to scare it away, but why the heck would it be wandering on top of a freezing mountain at 2AM?
2. Random animal. Not so bad, depending on the animal. The fact that whatever it was was literally a foot away from the face of my sleeping bag was REALLY worrying me.
3. A person. THE WORST POSSIBLE CASE. Anyone who is wandering around in this weather in pitch darkness at 2AM on top of a lonely mountain peak CANNOT be sane.
Keep in mind that I was running these options through my head as I continued to hear shuffling sounds a foot away from my face in complete darkness, miles away from the nearest form of help. All alone. About to get mauled, chopped up, stabbed, or eaten.
Then I heard the tiny sound of fabric being chewed up. Ok, so a person can be ruled out. I hope. An animal. Great. Then I realized that if my backpack got chewed up too bad I wouldn't be able to make it off of this mountain.
I flicked open the knife blade in my Leatherman multi-tool and wrapped my other hand around my little can of mace. My finger was at the ready to flick on my headlamp. I couldn't let my backpack get destroyed. I couldn't stop shivering.
On three.
One.
Two.
Three.
With a grunt, I bolted up in my sleeping bag, flicked on my light, and held out my knife and mace...
It was a mouse. It squeaked in fear and crawled up a rusted iron bar and into a hole in the wall. It was only an inch long and very cute. I glanced at the door. It was closed. There was nothing else, only the mouse and I.
The next morning I found no extra footsteps outside in the snow. I guess you start to hear things when you're camped out alone on top of a mountain with hypothermia and death as a reality. The mouse had been chewing on the tips of my gloves and made a little hole in one of the finger compartments. I had made food a few hours ago in those gloves. There had been no food in that room with me
So I went to Great Smokey Mountains to go backpacking and hike up Clingman's Dome, the second highest peak east of the Mississippi. It's a pretty tough, slow going hike up to the peak because of all the deep snow that one has to trudge through during Spring. At around 2PM I was halfway to the top, and I had a choice between hiking to a designated campground to spend the night, and then in the morning hike to the top, or hike all the way to the top all in one go, get some sunset pictures, make an inpromptu shelter somewhere, and wake up early the next morning and get some sunrise pictures, all with the lovely vistas that only Clingman's Dome could afford. I couldn't pass up the photo opportunity. Besides, I had heard that there was an observation tower at the top and I figured I could just walk in, close the door behind me, and have a nice shelter.
I made it to the top about an hour before sunset, only to discover that the observation tower was an open-air design, and was actually the LEAST protected from the elements anywhere. I made a quick dinner and took sunset pictures with frigid hands. The wind was blowing strong over the snow capped mountain, strong and cold enough to make the electronics in my camera malfunction here and there. When the sun finally set, I realized that I was on top of a snowy mountain all by myself, with the temperature well below freezing and with no natural cover over than the skinny, needle-less evergreens. I realized that pitching a tent would be suicide because there was no way in hell that my tent and sleeping bag would keep me warm out in the wind.
Luckily, at the base of the observation tower I found a room in which I could spend the night:
http://img252.imageshack.us/my.php?image=p1010057copy4dk.jpg
http://img252.imageshack.us/my.php?image=p1010059copy4zt.jpg
http://img252.imageshack.us/my.php?image=p1010061copy1tp.jpg
http://www.aeden.plus.com/florida05/sm5/l03.jpg
Needless to say, it was really, really creepy. The long hall-like room led off into darkness, made only darker by the dark stones used to construct it. The rusted iron door would creak as it was being opened, and there was no lock to ward off intruders.
That night was horrible. The cold stone ground sapped most of my body heat through my bag and pad, and the temperature was so cold that the inside of my bag just couldn't trap my body heat. I had full body shivers. Teeth chattering for hours straight. At around 2AM and with me still awake, I heard the snow outside crunching underneath something... or someone's.... footsteps.
Then I heard the iron door squeak open.
Then I felt a presence beside me.
Keep in mind that this is in a narrow hallway-like room, about 5 feet across. I was next to one of the walls, completely encased, face and all, in my sleeping bag. SOMETHING was moving right next to me, making little patter sounds on the concrete.
As far as I was concerned that something could be one of three things:\
1. Bear. Bad. I might be able to scare it away, but why the heck would it be wandering on top of a freezing mountain at 2AM?
2. Random animal. Not so bad, depending on the animal. The fact that whatever it was was literally a foot away from the face of my sleeping bag was REALLY worrying me.
3. A person. THE WORST POSSIBLE CASE. Anyone who is wandering around in this weather in pitch darkness at 2AM on top of a lonely mountain peak CANNOT be sane.
Keep in mind that I was running these options through my head as I continued to hear shuffling sounds a foot away from my face in complete darkness, miles away from the nearest form of help. All alone. About to get mauled, chopped up, stabbed, or eaten.
Then I heard the tiny sound of fabric being chewed up. Ok, so a person can be ruled out. I hope. An animal. Great. Then I realized that if my backpack got chewed up too bad I wouldn't be able to make it off of this mountain.
I flicked open the knife blade in my Leatherman multi-tool and wrapped my other hand around my little can of mace. My finger was at the ready to flick on my headlamp. I couldn't let my backpack get destroyed. I couldn't stop shivering.
On three.
One.
Two.
Three.
With a grunt, I bolted up in my sleeping bag, flicked on my light, and held out my knife and mace...
It was a mouse. It squeaked in fear and crawled up a rusted iron bar and into a hole in the wall. It was only an inch long and very cute. I glanced at the door. It was closed. There was nothing else, only the mouse and I.
The next morning I found no extra footsteps outside in the snow. I guess you start to hear things when you're camped out alone on top of a mountain with hypothermia and death as a reality. The mouse had been chewing on the tips of my gloves and made a little hole in one of the finger compartments. I had made food a few hours ago in those gloves. There had been no food in that room with me