Boundary Peak via Queens Mine Trail (Esmeralda County, Nevada)

My next and final adventure on this trip to Reno, NV takes me to the very remote Boundary Peak near the California Border. At 13,147 feet, this peak is the tallest point in the state. Some disagreement exists though because Boundary is a subpeak of the slightly taller Montgomery  Peak at 13,441 feet. The state line actually runs directly between the two peaks. That said, I'm here for Boundary, as I've kind of got this idea to summit the tallest peaks in all 50 states - though given my past experience with Acute Mountain Sickness, Denali in Alaska is probably a no-go.

The drive from Reno is approximately four hours and knowing that we have some many miles to drive along rough roads and an even more difficult ascent, my friend Nick and I get an early start and depart Reno just a little after 5:00 am. A few months ago, I had reached out to my Facebook friends for any advice on getting to the Queens Mine Trailhead and the summit itself. What they described to me lead me to rent this big Jeep Rubicon.

As we turn off of the pavement and onto a dirt road heading into the great unknown of the mountains, at first it's pretty easy going and I leave the Jeep in 2-high, but after a few miles, the rutted road turns quite a bit more challenging and I put it into 4-high. This seems it will be enough to get us to the trailhead. The road is rutted and really only passable by some level of high-clearance vehicle. The scenery is outstanding though and we take it all in as we drive.

When we finally reach the trailhead, there are three or four other cars parked in the area. We hop out of the Jeep, relieve ourselves in the nearby bushes and start getting our gear together. It's going to be windy and sunny the whole way up. 

Immediately after leaving the makeshift parking area, we start climbing. A series of false summits trick us into thinking we have reached the long ridge leading to the final ascent, but after a couple of them, we just kind of go with the flow. Eventually, we do reach that ridge and the hiking gets a bit easier . . . . for now. That said, we can see the gravel-covered side of one of the other sub-peaks at the far end of the ridge and spot hints of a trail. Reviewing our map, we realize we have to climb that, which is going to be interesting. 

As we reach the end of the ridge, we notice what I'm pretty sure are bristlecone pines growing on one of the nearby hillsides. I'd love to go examine them more closely to confirm, but I know I need to save my energy for what is to come. When we reach the end of the ridge, there is a flat area where people have drug logs onto a flat rock. It almost looks like a picnic area, which quite interesting in a place as remote as this. 

From here, we begin the grueling ascent. The first three-quarters of a mile takes us up a 40-ish degree incline with loose gravel. For every three steps forward, we slide a step back. It's pretty slow going and as we continue to climb, we spot a few hikers coming down from the summit. When we reach each other, I ask one of them if it was worth and he responds with "No, but I'm still glad I did it". That's a pretty common attitude to hikes like this. In the moment, it's torture, but once complete, it's a badge of honor to be admired.

Reaching the top of this gravel-laden slope, we then begin to make our way along a long rock ridge with steep drop offs on either side. There are only hints of a trail and we're forced to path find most of the way up. We have to make our way around five or six rock towers on our ascent. Some are easy, while others are quite challenging and require significant rock scrambling. I'd even go so far as to say parts of this trail are quite dangerous as hikers are forced onto all fours at points and must lower themselves down steep sections with little to know footholds and plenty of giant boulders to shatter our skulls on. 

Eventually, Nick tells me to go on ahead as he's struggling a bit. I ensure he's okay and then do as he suggests. The way to the top only gets worse and the final rock tower is one of the more dangerous scrambles I've done. I'll even admit that I was mildly afraid at a couple of points, but with few good options, I forced myself forward.

The summit itself requires make my way up another very steep gravel laden peak. At several points, I fear slipping off the mountain, but I eventually make it to the top. Here, I find another ammo box and sign the register. The view from this point, the top of Nevada, is spectacular and between wanting to enjoy it and just catching my breath, I spend ten or so minutes at the top. Luckily, I'm not really feeling any signs of acute mountain sickness, which makes me very happy. 

Soon, I start heading back down the way I came or at least a similar path. It's impossible to tell up here in this gravel and boulder fields. Once again, I'm hyper-focused on not falling and breaking a few bones. It really is a precarious ascent and descent. When I finally rejoin, Nick, we make our way down the gravel slope, which is even more challenging going down than up, but eventually, we make it and return to the Jeep.

I'm pretty proud of this one. I wish Nick had been able to summit, but sometimes, it's better to consider one's well being. He still reached almost 13,000 feet, which shatters the personal elevation record he set just last weekend on Freel Peak. As for me, it's another checklist item. The hike was only about 8.1 miles, but due to the difficulty of the terrain, it took nearly eight hours to complete. For now, I need to get back to Reno and prepare for my return flight to my home in Atlanta early in the morning. 

Perseid Meteor Shower at Tahoe Meadows (Washoe County, Nevada)

    **Please Note - Photo courtesy of Google

Driving back down from the Sand Harbor on Lake Tahoe after having watched an outstanding performance of Macbeth, I suggest to my friend that we should stop in Tahoe Meadows and see if we can catch any shooting stars from the Perseid Meteor Shower. I had intended to camp out on the Black Rock Desert last night for the show, but with wildfire smoke and ongoing storms and cloudiness decided better of it. Tonight though, the skies are clear and while there is considerably more light pollution here than in the Black Rock, it's still pretty dark. 

I pull over and we hop out of my rental Jeep. We begin scanning the sky for any sign of meteors. the peak of the shower has been the last two nights, but we're still close enough to peak that we should see something. Before I can even finish stating that prediction, we spot a couple streaking across the sky. As is always the case when you try to point one out to someone with you, it's gone before they can even turn their head. It's pretty cool up here this time of night and while we only stay ten minutes or so, we catch roughly 6 or 7 shooting stars, which makes it all worth it.

Lake Tahoe Shakespeare Festival - Macbeth (Washoe County, Nevada)

***Please Note - photo courtesy of Google

While it may be more difficult to classify a Shakespeare production of Macbeth an outdoor adventure, the fact that it takes place on an outdoor stage overlooking Lake Tahoe is all the justification I need. I've attended the plays put on by the Lake Tahoe Shakespeare Festival a few times in the past and it's always been an outstanding experience. 

Arriving with a friend, we checked in and were directed to our table. I've had both the normal seats and the café tables, and while more expensive, I really prefer the tables. The other perk of the tables is having a server to bring our food to us before the show. The stage looks magnificent as a backdrop while we peruse the menu. My friend brought some snacks, which are allowed, but we do decide to split an order of hummus and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I also order a tri-tip and asparagus salad minus the tomatoes. When the food comes a short time later, I note that the salad box says "No T" and as I open it, I notice lots of tomato and no tri-tip whatsoever. I call the server and he and get a good laugh out of it. Why would anyone order a tri-tip salad without the tri-tip. He returns it to the kitchen and arrives back a short time later with the corrected dish, which is quite delicious. 

Right on time at 7:30pm, the lights dim and the play begins. I say lights because the area is illuminated with overhead lighting, but it's not quite dark yet and so, it doesn't have that much impact. It will certainly be dark later though. 

I've always wanted to see Macbeth performed live and the actors and stage direction here are absolutely top notch. Though, I believe they did make some very slight adjustments to the play, it was still an terrific experience. We both thought so and as we head back to my rental car, we discuss the various parts that caught our attention. What a wonderful way to spend an evening under the stars.

Reno Riverwalk (Washoe County, Nevada)

After working in the Reno Office the last four days to get some of our new employees up to speed, I'm taking a much needed day off. Originally, I had planned to camp out on the Black Rock Desert last night and take in the Perseid Meteor Shower, but a combination of wildfire smoke from blazes just north of town and storms systems filling the sky with clouds made me reconsider. That said, I still want to do something with my morning and so, I decided to walk the Reno Riverwalk. In the past, I've run this paved path several times, but it's been a long time since I just walked along it and took in the sites. 

Departing my hotel, Circus Circus, I make my way down Virginia Street and under the famous Reno Arch, which declares this community as the "biggest little city in the world". Having lived here for a long time, I can completely agree with the statement. I really do love this town and I miss it quite a bit.

At the junction with the Truckee River, I divert my path into City Plaza to enjoy a couple of the artworks the city purchased from past Burning Man events. This includes the giant "Believe" sign and the stained glass whale cow and calf. The feel of this town with regards to art and music and just general things to do is unique in my experiences traveling the country. 

Turning west, I cross back over Virginia Street at start heading along the Riverwalk, which passes by Wingfield Park. In years past, this has been the location of the Reno River Festival, a kayaking event. The river has been diverted through a number of interesting channels here to simulate water water. You may ask if that is really necessary on a river as rugged as the Truckee and I would suggest that only in town would this be necessary. The Truckee flows out of Lake Tahoe at around 6,200 feet and then winds through Reno and Washoe County before finally arriving at Pyramid Lake to the north at about 3,800 feet. I've floated many sections of this river and there are sections that are pretty gnarly, but most of the elevation loss is before it gets to Reno and once in town, it calms down significantly.

Continuing along the river corridor while listening to an audio book, I enjoy the fresh air and the general friendliness of the people here. There are many runners out for their morning miles and even some fisherman trying their luck in the river.

Eventually, I reach Idlewild Park and after walking the length of it, I turn around and head back the way I came. This was definitely an urban out, but it was still nice to get in 4 miles this morning. I have a pretty busy day ahead and the fresh air and exercise was definitely needed.

Freel Peak via Armstrong Pass (Alpine County, California)

 

I'm in Reno again for work, but this time, I decided to add a couple of extra days on top of work responsibilities for some adventure. My first stop is to climb Freel Peak on the southeastern corner of Lake Tahoe. At 10,886 feet, Freel is the tallest peak in the entire Tahoe Basin and while I've climbed many peaks on the other corners of the lake, I've never really done much on this part. 

I actually rented a big Jeep Rubicon because one of my adventures next weekend will take me to the very remote Boundary Peak along some rugged old mine roads. That said, it turned out to be a good vehicle for getting my friend Nick and I to this trailhead as well. Turning off highway 89 onto a dirt forest service road, we very early on encountered a section that was pock-marked with very large divots, measuring between three and six feet across and in some cases as much as two feet deep. Given that there were approximately 15 of them on this small section, I'm not sure anything other than a high clearance 4x4 could have made it through this section. The presence of a couple of cars before this section leads to me believe others thought the same thing. Following the road for approximately four miles into the forest, we arrive at the Horse Meadows Trailhead, where a collection of trucks and other beefy vehicles have been parked. 

After getting our gear together, we head out across Willow Creek and up into the mountains. The first section of this trail is a stead up hill and recent rains have washed lots of debris down the trail for up higher. It's something of an obstacle course jumping over branches, rocks, and whatever else the water could carry. 

At the junction with Armstrong Pass, we missed our turn and after a while realized our mistake. The intention was to follow the Tahoe Rim Trail from this section. This forced us to bushwhack a a little bit to get over our intended trail. Luckily, bushwhacking in this region is quite different than in Georgia. In this dry climate and at approximately 8,500 feet, the kudzu, poison ivy, and other strangling green vines and flora can't take hold. It's much more pleasant than other off trail adventures and soon, we're back on our intended trail.

From here, we follow the western shoulder of the Freel Peak complex for a couple of miles before heading up the steep desolate final slope. At the junction with the spur trail that leads us to the top, we stop for a short break and chat with some mountain bikers riding the TRT. After a few minutes, we begin our ascent. As we make our way up this steep section, we encounter a few other hikers coming down from the peak. As hikers do, they say hello we wish each other a good hike.

As it turns out, the peak we had been looking at and thinking was Freel, is actually a sub-peak to Freel, which makes more sense as to why we are headed the direction we are now. The ascent is fairly steep and very dusty, but manageable. Nick tells me that summiting this peak will be the highest point he's every been to. I didn't realize that. In years past, he's done nearly as much adventuring as I have, but family responsibilities and health issues have put something of a damper on that in recent times. As for me, I've been considerably higher than this peak. I've summited Mount Whitney at 14,505 feet and though I was unable to summit Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania last summer due to acute mountain sickness, I still reach approximately 15,500 feet. So, this little guy isn't that much to me, but I still wanted to do it.

Once at the top, I sign in on the register that someone has placed in an military-style ammunition case. There is also a sign here erected by a local boy scout troop, acknowledging the elevation and the summit. I take a couple of minutes to take in the view, which is fantastic. To the east Jobs Peak and Jobs Sister rise to nearly the same height as Freel and the trail to Jobs Sister is incredibly gorgeous as it stretches out across the sandy ridge. 

Nick arrives a few minutes after me and similarly takes in the view. We get some water and when he's ready, we begin our descent. The return trip is uneventful, though it is heating up and I end up having to stop to get pebbles out of my shoes a couple of times. Next time I hike out here, I'll have to consider some of those ankle-length gators.

As we return to the Jeep, I offer Nick a fist bump and congratulate him on reaching and returning from his highest point yet. That said, next weekend, we may shatter his record as we make an attempt to summit Boundary Peak, the highest point in the state of Nevada. Total distance for today's hike was right at 10.5 miles and it was totally worth it.

Mill Creek Boardwalk to Woodward Mill Dam via Ivy Creek Greenway (Gwinnett County, Georgia)

The unpredictable weather patterns continue to interfere with my weekend plans again this week. Originally, I was going to be leading the Meetup on a float down through Helen, GA on the Chattahoochee River, but with rain in the forecast and some cooler temperatures, I decided to postpone that trip and hike a little closer to home. After reviewing some options, I chose to explore a new trail near the Mall of Georgia. I really don't know much about the Mill Creek Nature Area, but reviews suggest it is a nice experience even though the boardwalk is some state of disrepair.

The parking area is pretty small, but I found a spot and quickly got my bearings. It seems odd to be hiking in such a popular retail area, but lets see what this trail is all about. After descending a set of wooden steps down the steep hill from the sidewalk, I found myself on a pretty standard nature trail. This part of the trail is a loop and I decided to walk clockwise. The gravel and earth trail soon hits a boardwalk, which as I will find common on today's little adventure is covered with mud. I would guess that this entire area has been recently flooded, which has left the boardwalk a muddy mess. I do my best to maneuver, but it's incredibly slick and I nearly fall on my face numerous times.

Following the boardwalk through a thick, marshy environment, it leads out to an elevated observation deck. I climb the steps, again being very careful of the slippery mud. The deck is roughly forty feet above the marsh and offers some nice views of this wide open area. I had no idea this place was here and it seems odd to think that I'm standing in this natural environment probably less than a quarter-mile from one of the busiest shopping areas in the entire country.

Making my way back to the loop trail, I continue along the muddy boardwalk. Some of it is clear, but a good proportion is covered with the think goopy mud and I have to be very careful as I walk along this path. Soon, the loop comes around on an area with open water. I'm sure the brown muck is home to a zoo of snakes and turtles, but none are making their presence known today. I divert from the loop one last time to what is probably the muddiest section. This spur takes me out to the confluence of Ivy Creek and Little Ivy Creek, but the undergrown is too tall to allow much of a photo.

As I leave the boardwalk and get back to the gravel trail, I start heading west along the Ivy Creek Greenway. This section seems to have sustained some damage probably from the recent flood, but it's still safer than walking on that slippery mud. Before too long though, the trail passes over a sturdy bridge where a couple of teenage boys and their father are casting into the muddy creek. Turning the corner, the trail now becomes a paved path and passes under the highway. 

I hear a water feature and realize I'm probably at the Woodward Mill Dam, which is kind of hidden behind the greenery, but I find a path down to the water. This is a combination of manmade dam and rock outcropping over which the waters of Ivy Creek flow. There is also an old waterwheel here, which was likely used by the mill when it was still here in operation. It sits now rusting away, but offering a interesting picture.

After climbing back up to the paved walkway, I start heading back towards the parking area where I left my car. I pass a few more people along the way, but generally, this place doesn't seem very popular. I imagine the muddy trails have deterred people from exploring. At the car, I check my mileage and see that I got in just 2.7 miles. It certainly isn't much and I really need to start getting in some distance, but it was still a nice adventure to a new area.

DeSoto Falls and Icebox Cave (DeKalb County, Alabama)

The weather in the southeast has been very erratic for the past few weeks. We have been suffering through 90+ degree days with 80-90% humidity, which makes for a miserable time outside. Add to that surprise and harsh thunderstorms popping up unexpectedly, and it's not a recipe conducive to getting much hiking in. I've especially been resisting the urge to travel for any hikes. Today though, I decided to risk it and make a drive just over the state line to visit DeSoto Falls State Park in Alabama. I have tried to do this trip a couple of times recently only to be thwarted by the rain. Today looks to be clear though until the late afternoon, and so, I'm going to give it a go.

It takes a couple of hours to reach my destination and when I do, I'm a little confused by the way the park is laid out. Initially, I pull into a picnic area at the pool above the falls. I have to pay $5 to park here, but hopefully it will be worth it . . . it was not worth it. This area is for family kayaking. The creek that feeds the falls is dammed to form a large pond and a number of families are here paddling out on that flat water. Just below the dam is a small double waterfall, each dropping about 20 feet into another more shallow pool. From there the water heads over the main waterfall, but unfortunately, the angle from here is not very good. I do follow a small trail along the side of the cliff (with a safety fence) to get to a look out point, but even from here, the view of the main fall is quite lacking.

Returning to the car and looking at a couple of maps on my phone, I decide to hike a nearby trail called the DeSoto Falls Bottom and Icebox Cave Trail. Hopefully, this will take me towards the bottom of the canyon formed by the falls and offer a better view. The cave may be interesting as well.

It's only about a five minute drive from the picnic area and once there, I quickly find a parking spot, though the lot is pretty full. The trail meanders through a number of large rock outcroppings, which are probably great for bouldering, as it approaches the waterway, which is known as the West Fork of the Little River. I do encounter a number of other people out hiking on this sticky summer day, but everyone is quite nice. The final push to the pool below the waterfall is an exercise in balance, as the trail traverses over a large number of half-buried stones. It would be very easy to roll an ankle here, but I'm careful and manage it without incident.

When I get to the opening that offers the best view of the waterfall, I'm a little disappointed that the pool leads up to a large boulder, which is taller than I care to climb today. I manage stand on a piece of fallen log to get a couple of shots. There are quite a few people here swimming in the cool waters of the pool and a couple over closer to the waterfall, which is roughly a 300 feet across the pool from me.

The waterfall itself is quite majestic, plummeting 104 feet over the tall cliff. which has been carved into a canyon by the rushing water. This natural configuration seems to be quite common in this part of the world. I've encountered numerous other waterfalls that look very much the same, including Lula Lake Falls, Foster Falls, and the waterfalls at nearby Cloudland Canyon. I'm guessing the geology lends itself to this kind of erosion.

After only a few minutes taking it all in, I turn around and head back towards the car. The sky is clouding up and I'd rather not be caught out here in the rain. A few drops of rain to fall on me, but nothing significant and even though I want to get back to the car, I decide to take an alternative path to see Icebox Cave. This connecting trail takes me up the hillside and to the bottom of the continuation of the cliffs. After a short distance, I encounter the cave.

This cave is more of a very deep overhang. The entrance is roughly fifty feet wide and twelve feet tall, more than enough to allow me to walk into it. The ceiling of the cave is covered with soot, indicating the use of campfires here. I would imagine this cave was used by indigenous peoples as a shelter, as offers a fairly large room, which is nicely sheltered from the weather. Though the ceiling tapers down towards what appears to be the back of the cave, it's probably sixty or seventy feet deep. It even appears to go deeper, but exploring further would require some belly crawling, which I'm unwilling to do today.

The trip back to the car is uneventful, though the rains continue to threaten. The total distance of this little hike was only about 1.3 miles, but some very interesting things to see along the way. I had originally planned to do a couple of other hikes in this area, but given the weather situation, I think I'm just going to head home.

Fort Yargo (Barrow County, Georgia)

Before joining the Meetup group today, I did a short walk in nearby Athens. Having arrived early at Fort Yargo State Park though, I decided to relax in the shade while the rest of the group began showing up. This park is very near to my house and I hike here pretty often. By noon, our planned start time, just about everyone has shown up and after our customary round of introductions, we begin the hike.

We start by crossing the long wooden bridge across the northern end of the lake. As we cross, we talk to a number of men and boys casting their lines into the water and testing their luck. It seems they aren't biting much today. I suppose it's not surprising on such a warm summer day. Shortly after we cross, a couple of late-comers catch up to us and join the group. As we walk, we talking about a variety of subjects, but mostly of other adventures. With three of us here today having recently completed the Camino de Santiago, international trips seems to be the topic of choice.

As we make our way around the newly-built beach facility, we note some storm clouds starting to form up. It is supposed to rain today, but we were hoping it would hold off until we finish our hike. Just past the beach area, we're forced to divert off the normal inner loop just a bit due to some downed trees. Soon though, we return to the intended route.  As we cross the wooden bridge on the far western branch of the lake, our group leaders asks me to check my doppler radar app for signs of a storm. While there are patches north of us, it looks all clear in our immediate vicinity. No sooner have I said that, then we hear the first boom of thunder in the distance. 

I tell the group that my last visit to the park a few months ago ended in hiking halfway around the lake in the pouring rain at night, and that I'm not looking forward to do that again. With that said, I pick up my pace to what is pretty normal for me at about 4 mph. The group falls further and further behind me as finish out the trail. I do stop a couple of times along the way for pictures, including a shot of a beautiful eastern kingsnake slithering across the trail.

I arrive back at the parking area far ahead of the group and send a text just to let them know that I made it back and that I was heading home. Just as I begin driving out of the parking lot, the clouds open up and it begins to pour down rain. Hopefully, my friends found shelter. As for me, I'm thankful to have gotten in my 6.6 miles and to have stayed dry while doing it.

Firefly Trail to "Murmur" Trestle (Athens-Clarke County, Georgia)

I'm joining the meetup a little later today, but in advance of that hike I wanted to get in a little more distance. For quite a while, I've also wanted to check out the "R.E.M. Murmur" railroad trestle in Athens, GA. To accomplish both, I drove a bit further east than where I was hiking with the group and walked a short distance on the Firefly Trail.

The band R.E.M. was founded by students attending the University of Georgia at Athens. Their first studio album included a picture of a tall dilapidated railroad trestle overgrown with kudzu. The bridge became a landmark due to the cult-like following the band had. While I was never a member of the cult, I do like quite a few of the band's songs. Since I live pretty close though, I' had always wanted to see the trestle. After doing some research, it seems that the original, which was built in 1883 to cross Trail Creek, a tributary of the nearby North Oconee River, was actually demolished in 2020, after a lengthy public debate. With all of the support to keep the landmark though, the city sought and received funding to build a replacement in the same design. This new version is now part of the Firefly Trail, a 39-mile "rails to trails" project, which starts just a short distance north of the bridge. The paved and well-groomed multi-purpose path now traverses a large gorge across the trestle. 

After parking my car, I had to do a little route-finding. Although, the grounds of Dudley Park are well maintained, the way the Firefly Trail passes through is a bit confusing. It's actually something of a three dimensional trail here, as the pathways lead by the river and then circle back up and around to cross over the trestle. I first walked below the bridge and then found the path to circle back and walk across it. The view from the type is pretty nice and overall, it seems like a great trail system. I only hiked about 1.5 miles here today, but knowing how nice this is, I will plan to bring my bike back and put in some more serious mileage sometime soon.

Haw Creek (Forsyth County, Georgia)

Between the heat wave passing over the Southeastern US and the nearly daily thunderstorms, I've been pretty lazy since getting home from Reno last week. Today, I decided to put that to an end and join the Meetup group for a short hike at Haw Creek Park. This park is nothing special, but it has a trail system popular with some mountain bikers. More that the hike itself, I was looking forward to catching up with some friends that I haven't seen since returning from Europe. 

I met up with the group in the parking lot and we spent a few minutes catching up before entering the woods. The trails here are well marked and well maintained, though there trail system doesn't offer a lot of mileage. After crossing Haw Creek, we headed for Samples Road, and walked through the middle school grounds until re-entering the woods neat the elementary school. It's pretty hot today, but not as bad as it has been. 

The conversations are always good with this group and I truly enjoy their company. When we decided to call it quits for the day, we had hiked right at 6.5 miles of easy trail. Again, not an amazing hike, but it was nice to stretch my legs a bit and see friends that I haven't spoken to in several weeks.

Hunter Creek Waterfall (Washoe County, Nevada)

I've been traveling so much this month I fear my wife may forget what I look like. First I completed the Camino de Santiago in Portugal and Spain and just yesterday got back from a backpacking trip on the AT. This morning, I had to fly to Reno, NV for work for the week. That said though, it doesn't mean I can't get some trail miles in. One of my best friends picked me up at the airport when I landed at 7:30 pm. After a quick stop by my hotel downtown, we headed to the Hunter Creek Waterfall trail head. I'm hoping we can get to the waterfall and back before dark, but that's probably impossible at this point. I'm a very fast hiker, but short of running all the way up and back, I can't imagine we'll complete the six-ish mile trail before dark.

After parking, we quickly started making our way up the trail. Spending the last two days in the dense Appalachian forest, it's quite a change to now be hiking among the yellow-ish brown grasses of the Nevada high desert mountains. I do miss this area though. After about half-a-mile, we stop and my friend starts descending towards the creek. Several years ago, his favorite dog was washed away by the rampaging creek in this spot and after looking for him for weeks, he finally gave up, but placed a memorial stone near the creek. He wants to see if it's still there. Unfortunately, the underbrush right at the creek has grown up a great deal since his last trip here and while we finally make it through to the water, it's not exactly easy. He's unable to find the stone though. Either it's been washed away or we just can't get to it through the dense growth. 

Returning to the trail, we again start moving at a break-neck pace toward the waterfall. I've hiked this trail numerous times in the past when I lived here and much of this looks familiar, but it has been a few years. I do remember the water crossing and warn my friend that we'll be coming up on it towards the end. Unlike my last time here though, someone has tied a rope between two trees, one on either side of the flowing water. Several small sun-dried logs lay across the water and by using both the rope and the logs in tandem, we're able to cross without much difficulty.

Just a short distance further and we begin hearing the raging waterfall. For as far back as I can remember, a large log has lain vertical against the waterfall, almost it's entire height. Every time I visit I think to myself if this will be the time it's finally rotted away, but that's not the case today. We take a few pictures, but don't linger as darkness is starting to settle in.

Turning our headlamps, we begin making a mad rush for the cars. I don't mind being out here at dark, but my larger concern is the sign that said the gate to the lot where we parked gets locked at 9 pm. The bright moon rises above the mountains to our east and in the light of our headlamps, we catch view of a couple of scorpions and a green spotted frog that has apparently hopped up the mountain from the creek far below.

When we get back to the car, we find that the gate is not locked - thankfully. We hop in and begin our trip back to town, which isn't far at all. We hiked 6.1 miles this evening and after going through a drive thru to get me some dinner, my buddy drops me off at my hotel. It was a very quick hike, but I loved every minute of it.

Standing Indian Loop (Macon County, North Carolina)

A couple of years back, I took my eldest nephew camping at Tallulah Gorge State Park. He seemed to have really enjoyed and ever since has been talking to me about doing an actual backpacking trip. Though we tried to organize it last year, schedules just didn't work out. This year though, we discussed it early in the year and landed on a weekend - this weekend - to get together for a little adventure.

For our trail, I chose to hike the Standing Indian Loop near Franklin, NC. I chose this particular trail for a number of reasons. First, it's about equidistant between where he lives and where I live, meaning that we could meet at the trailhead (he turned 16 a few months ago). Second, it's a moderate route. I expect it will be mildly challenging for me and perhaps a bit more challenging for him. That said though, I didn't want to give him anything too easy. I want him to get a real taste of what backpacking can be. And finally, our 22-mile planned loop includes approximately 15 miles of the Appalachian Trail. That will give him something noteworthy to talk about with his friends and allow me to complete another section, in my goal to complete the whole trail.

In the weeks leading up to the trip, we discussed gear, food, and other things to expect. I was planning to loan him several of my old pieces of gear, including a tent, sleeping pad, sleeping bag, and camp chair. I was also bringing a bear cannister to store our food, camp stove, and water filter. Really all he needed to bring was his backpack, a hand me down from a friend of mine a few years ago, his food, and clothes. 

Meeting at the trailhead near the Standing Indian Campground around 10:00 am, I helped him pack his backpack, though it was a bit of unusual setup. His backpack didn't accept a water bladder and so, he was intending to wear a bare-bones water bladder backpack underneath his main pack. I recommend against this, but really didn't see a lot of other options. This is what he chose to do. I loaded the gear he would be utilizing into his pack and some basic packing principles. He listened intently. Before too long, we were off. 

Every review of this loop trail I had read in preparation for this weekend's hike suggested doing the loop in a clockwise direction (southbound on the AT) in order to minimize the challenge of the ascents up Albert and Standing Indian Mountains. Apparently, they are very steep going the other direction. So, that's the direction we went. 

As we entered the woods, we began a slow climb along the Long Branch Trail, which we would follow for a couple of miles, until we joined the AT and climbed a bit more steeply towards the summit of Albert Mountain, which reaches an elevation of 5,200 ft. I think he was struggling just a little bit, but he has youth on his side. As for me, I was feeling great. Having just come off a 13-day hike of the Camino de Santiago Portuguese de la Costa, I'm in fantastic shape and not even really sweating or breathing hard during the ascent.

Once we reach the top, I tell him we should take a break. A steel lattice tower a the summit supports a fire watch tower and provides an excellent place for a short break. We drop our packs and each enjoy an energy bar and some nuts. The view from here is fantastic, but I tell him that it's likely even better from the tower. After resting a few minutes, we carefully climb the stairs of the tower and while we're not able to actually get to the structure at the top due to a locked hatch, we're still able to climb up some fifty or so feet to some breathtaking views of the southern Appalachians. 

Throwing our packs back on, we hit the trail again and I tell him that we'll start looking for a good place to pitch our tents after mile nine. I don't want to stop too early and leave us a beast of a hike to get out tomorrow. The climb down the mountain is pretty rugged and climbing up this way instead would have not have been a very enjoyable experience. Clockwise was definitely the way to go. 

As we make our way along the undulating trail, we encounter a large number of other groups, most of whom are section hiking the AT. All are incredibly friendly and we chat with many of them. I tell my nephew that the vast majority of folks he will meet out here are nice like the ones we've met. 

Around 11.5 miles, we see an empty campsite - complete with a couple of logs rolled around a stone fire pit. I look it over and not seeing any widow-makers (I explain to him that is a dead tree or limb that could likely fall on our tents), I suggest we pitch our tents here. He agrees and we drop our packs. Before pitching our tents, we pull out our camp chairs and just relax for a bit. It's only about 3:00 pm and so, we have lots of time. Turns out there are more backpackers in a neighboring campsite and I ask them about water sources. Apparently, it's just ahead and down the hill. While we probably won't need to refill tonight, we definitely will in the morning before we leave.

I help him get his tent set up and then set my own up. He listens well and follows my instructions carefully. Once set up, he decides to rest inside for a little bit. I just sit min my chair and after a bit start getting ready to prepare dinner. We're just going to have freeze-dried backpackers meals, reheated with boiling water. I'm having a vegetarian pad thai and I brought chili mac for him. Once he crawls out of the tent, I show him the basics of preparing a meal out here and then we wait for the boiling water to do its work on our respective meals. 

A few minutes later, we dig in. I warn him that if we didn't add enough water or didn't let it sit long enough, the noodles could be a little crunchy, but it seems I 'guesstimated' everything reasonably well. I have been doing this for a long time. He eats the entire bag, just as I eat my entire bag of pad thai. Not bad at all.

It's starting to get a little cool and before long, he decides he's going to crawl into his sleeping bag. I sit out for a bit longer after carrying the sealed bear cannister with all of our items that have an odor a couple of dozen yards away from our tents. I wedge in between the limbs of a fallen tree in the hopes that it will prevent a bear from batting it around too much. I'm not worried about them getting into it, but batting it around and making us look for it in the morning is a completely different proposition. With that, I crawl into my own tent and try to fall asleep. It doesn't take long.

The next morning, I awake around sunrise to birds singing overhead. It's cool outside, but not cold. My backpacking quilt kept me warm through the night, but now I must leave it to prepare for the new day. I crawl out and then out of my tent and fetch the bear cannister. It seems we were not visited by any of the freeloaders last night, as the can is right where I put it. I pull out the stove and begin preparing some tea for myself. Soon, my nephew begins to stir and I start getting our breakfasts ready. I'm having a new one - gravy and biscuits, while I brought a cinnamon-apple quinoa and oat porridge for him. He seems to like it okay.

After we eat, I begin showing him some tricks for breaking down his sleeping pad and tent. Before long, we're packed and ready to go. As we begin hiking out, I realize that we were camped within just a hundred yards or so of one of the AT shelters and there are a number of other backpackers (probably 20 in total) camped all around us. I ask a couple how to get to the water source and they point downhill to a dribble of a stream coming out of the mountain. We hike down and I show him the basics of filtering water. I don't fill our bottles all of the way, as we don't need any more water to cook and why carry the extra weight if we don't need it. I do take a little more than I think I will need just in case, he estimates too little.

The second half of the our loop is pretty overgrown, though it follows the AT for another several miles. Eventually, we begin to climb up towards the high point of the trail, Standing Indian Mountain, which rises to 5,499 feet above sea level. It's a pretty good climb and my nephew has to stop a couple of times to rest his shoulders. I imagine the double-pack set up he's wearing is not very comfortable. I'm happy to give him all of the breaks he needs. 

Before too long though, we're moving again and soon reach the summit, which requires us to take a spur trail. A white arrow clearly points the way. Once we get up there, we find a middle-aged couple enjoying the view magnificent view from the mountaintop bald. I tell them it's my nephews first trip and we begin discussing other trips we've taken. It seems our resumes are pretty similar. The depart after a few minutes, but we linger a bit longer to get some pictures. 

As we hike down from the summit, we leave the AT and begin hiking on the Lower Trail Ridge Way, which will eventually take us back to our cars. Again, this section is quite overgrown and I'm on the lookout for poison ivy, though luckily, I never see any. We do stumble across the single largest mushroom I've ever seen. It's cap has to be more than two feet across. I stop for a picture of this behemoth.

After a few more miles, we finally begin seeing camp sites with cars parked at them and begin making our way back to the trailhead where we parked. The trail intersections are a little confusing here, but eventually we find our way. In total, we hiked about 22.3 miles. Not bad for his first trip. As we unload our gear and start preparing to leave, he thanks me for taking him on this trip. To be honest, I really had a great time as well and I'm grateful to have had the chance to share one of my great passions with him. 

Petroglifo do Castriño de Conxo (Pontevedra Province, Spain)

With a full day in Santiago de Compostela and most of my friends out shopping, I decided to check out something I saw on the map. Along the route I entered the city yesterday, there is what is labeled on the map as Petroglifo do Castriño de Conxo. After doing some cursory research, this is a Neolithic petroglyph site. As I have spent a lot of time chasing ancient rock art in the American West, this seemed like something right up my alley.

Walking about 3/4 of a mile along the streets of the city, I finally saw a small sign indicating the site with an arrow pointing down a gravel street. From there, I had to follow a feint trail along a fence and through tall weeds to enter a wooded area and climb up a steep hill to the site.

Once there though, the petroglyph panel was obvious. A large rock, mostly buried in the hillside, but who's upward facing surface contains a number of images - which appear to be weapons or possibly bird wings. It's difficult to say for sure, but they were obviously made by the hand of man. Apparently, there is more to this site, including an ancient hilltop fortress, but much of it is now on the land of a private residence and fenced off from this rock. From what I can find online, the petroglyphs are thought to be between 4,000 and 5,000 years old. Though, I'm unable to get a very good picture, even using some color filters, it's still an amazing thing to find here in the middle of a large city in Spain.

Santiago de Compostela Archcathedral Basilica (Pontevedra Province, Spain)

The ultimate destination of all routes of the Camino de Santiago is the Santiago de Compostela Archcathedral Basilica, which is a magnificent church at the heart of the old section of the city and according to legend is home to the remains of the Apostle James. While I arrived in Santiago and saw the outside of the Archcathedral on Saturday, I went back on Sunday to see and tour the interior. It was well worth my time.

Though after the legendary rediscover of the remains in or around 814 CE a number of successive chapels were constructed, each was destroyed mostly by Muslim invaders. Construction of the present cathedral began in 1075 CE. It is constructed mostly of granite with the final stone being laid in 1122 CE, though many renovations and additions have occurred over the centuries. 

It's built according to the same plan as the monastic brick church of Saint Sernin in Toulouse, which is widely considered to be the greatest Romanesque edifice in all of France. Even from those early days it was a place of growing importance as a pilgrimage. Today, it is one of only five remaining churches build over the tomb of an apostle, adding to it's importance.

Standing in the courtyard in front of the primary entrance, one is struck but intricate details of the structure, whose towers reach toward the sky. As it is early morning and with the sun having just risen in the east, the silhouette of the structure almost has a halo created by the first rays of daylight. It's quite striking. In this courtyard each day, as many as 3,000 pilgrims enter the city and complete their pilgrimage. Here they celebrate, or take pictures, or pray. The Camino de Santiago is a very personal journey and to each person it means something different.

I note that this main entrance is gated off and ask a security guard how to enter the chapel. Though there is some language barrier, he understands enough English to point me in the correct direction. This takes me around to a side entrance of the massive church. Here, a couple of hundred people wait patiently in line for their turn. I spot one of my friends and we wait together. It's not long before the line begins moving and we're ushered into the great chapel. While pictures are allowed, they are fairly strict about flash photography and any thing making noise. It is a church after all. One would think common sense would tell you not to enter with music blaring.

As we enter, the humongous chapel opens up before us in the shape of a cross with pews on three sides of the main alter which sits near the center of the room and extending well into the forth line of the cross shape. Hundreds of people shuffle around this Christian holy place. Some take pictures. Some cry. Some pray. Again, it's a very personal journey. 

The main alter is magnificent (even gaudy) and includes a statue of St. James under a platform held aloft by cherubs. Further atop the platform, archangels and a lone horseman stand celebrating the holy presence. Hanging from a pully system attached to the ceiling, the Botafumeiro awaits being swung throughout the halls of the chapel dispensing clouds of incense. The largest of it's kind, this was created in 1851 and when swinging can reach speeds of up to 50 mph.

After taking some time to walk around all of the halls, I get in line to visit the remains of the apostle. The line takes me under the main alter, which is where the tomb is placed. Behind steel bars and sit back in a little stone cove, a small decorative silver box sits as the source for so many to come here. Following the line of people ahead of me, we climb back out the other side of the alter and then go up a set of steps and pass behind the alter, with the option to touch the shoulders or head of a statue of the saint along the way. I try to get a picture of this, but a guard stops me and explains that pictures are not allowed in this section. I put my phone away out of respect. 

Once my exploration of the chapel was complete, I sat in a pew for a long while just watching pilgrims shuffle in and contemplating the meaning of this place and my own pilgrimage to get here. I'm not sure I came up with any real answers, but it's an amazing place nonetheless and even though I question the authenticity of the legends surrounding how the remains were recovered, I recognize and respect the spiritual and religious importance of this place.