“There is a hidden message in every waterfall. It says, if you are flexible, falling will not hurt you!”–Mehmet Murat ildan
The dawning of the day brought forth memories of the day before: light sweat forming, the sound of heavy breathing, the curves of mountainous proportions, the ups and downs, and the taste of sweetness at having reached one incredible summit. I wanted to do it again. Was it love? Not exactly. Instead, I was recalling the hikes from the previous day, including one short, but incredibly steep trek up to the top of Mount Mitchell, the highest peak in the Appalachian Mountains and east of the Mississippi River. There is a reason for the slogan, “the mountains are calling” has been popularized!
John and I were fortunate enough to recently spend a few days in Black Mountain, NC, a delightful small town in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. Named after the mountains that surround it, the town of Black Mountain is a walkable, quaint town filled with over 200 businesses featuring local art, crafts, artisans of types, music, unique shops, galleries, breweries, and plenty of food venues for every dining desire. Located about 15 miles from Asheville, NC, Black Mountain is also a hub for outdoor activities, but it is the surrounding mountain line that perpetually commanded the attention of John and me.
Our initial goals were to visit both Black Mountain and Asheville as well as enjoy a few hikes. However, weather often alters best laid plans, and it certainly influenced ours. In fact, on our first full day, we woke to a low-visibility/heavy fog warning for the surrounding mountains due to the soaking, overnight rains that continued throughout most of the morning curtailing any hiking plans.
On the positive side, this allowed us to fully explore and experience the warmth and creative energy of Black Mountain. As we made our way through the town, browsing through one interesting shop after another, I asked locals to name their favorite hiking spots. Granted it was a challenging question given the fact there are substantial choices in the area. Nonetheless, certain locations kept emerging, including Mount Mitchell, Craggy Gardens, and Crabtree Falls.
Thus, on the following day, John and I made our way to both Craggy Gardens and Mount Mitchell. However, we were so enamoured with Craggy Garden that we did not spend as much time at Mount Mitchell as we had hoped. No worries, or so we thought, we would return the following day on our way to Crabtree Falls. Of course, if you want to make God laugh, tell him you have plans, right?
“I like the muted sounds, the shroud of grey, and the silence that comes with fog.”–Om Malik
As the following day evolved, our plans became, well, foggy, and we were not sure if the conditions would permit us to hike it given how the day started. In order to get to Crabtree Falls, we had to traverse the Blue Ridge Parkway for nearly 90 minutes–not that this was a bad thing since this drive was, and is, oh-so-scenic! However, on this particular day, we watched with wonder as we drove through great clouds of layered gossamer drifting over the elevated mountainside, enveloping the road–and the scenic view.
Air, so crisp and refreshing at the lower elevations, quickly became damp and bone-chilling as the temperature plummeted 20 degrees, and our visibility became drastically reduced. Initially, our plans were to stop by Mount Mitchell before, and possibly after, visiting/hiking Crabtree Falls. This was an attempt to experience a more clear view from the top of this summit. Unfortunately, as we made our way up the access road towards the top of Mount Mitchell, the blanket of fog became more dense. Stopping at the Mount Mitchell State Park Visitor Center for a map, it became clear that the cloud cover was set in for the next several hours.
Since we had never previously visited this part of the BRP, we envisioned that it was only a hop-skip-and-a-jump to Crabtree Falls! Wrong! Thirty minutes later, driving mostly through pea-like soup conditions, we finally arrived at Crabtree Falls Campground just past mile marker 339. Finding the trail and determining the best strategy for tackling it was another story.
We had received what we thought was solid hiking advice from another couple. They had advised us to start at the trailhead, and make the .9 downhill hike to the falls. Then, instead of finishing the rest of the 1.5 trail to its end, this couple suggested that we turn around, and return the same way. This shorter route sounded perfect since we wanted time to return to Mount Mitchell on the off-chance of cloud clearing. It might have worked, if we had started at the trailhead!
After happily discovering restrooms in the campground before beginning our hike, we became turned around, and began the hike at the point in which most hikers consider the trail’s end! We were on the 1.5 side of the trail that gently started and seemed pleasant, but it soon became rugged with thick, rambling roots acting like the proverbial bully sticking out his foot to purposely trip passersby. In fact, for a large portion of this hike, we worried if we were even on the right path, but the few hikers we did encounter kept encouraging us that we were headed in the right direction.
We kept traipsing, tripping, and trekking down the mountainside. Despite the air becoming cool and refreshing, we were sweating nonetheless. Along the way, we caught glimpses of Crabtree Creek and its numerous miniature falls creating a soothing natural soundtrack. Still, we wondered, was this all there was to see until another friendly family of hikers assured us that we were close. Our efforts and time, they assured, would be rewarded; however, they warned us that the next section would be a steep descent, full of mud, and slippery rocks.
Fun images along the gentle beginning–which was really the end!
Carefully continuing lower into the ravine, it began to feel as if we were descending into the damp cellar of Mother Nature with a fully opened, unseen spigot in the crevasse below. Meanwhile, poor John, who had surgery on his knee ten months prior to this excursion, experienced jolts of sharp paint with each precipitous, downhill step. Persevering through it all, I think we both felt hope rising as our minds whispered, “Wait, wait for it . . .”
Crabtree Creek meandering alongside the trail.
Obstacles and slippery footing along the path.
“There’s no better place to find yourself than sitting by a waterfall and listening to it’s music.”–Roland R Kemler
There it was! Gushing, plummeting, and splashing over 70 feet of rock, Crabtree Creek, God’s ultimate shower. We stood in awe, witnessing such a magnificent creation from the hand of the Creator. Moments ticked by, and then with great dramatic flare, a sunbeam spotlighted the falls. I felt tugging at my heartstrings.
“Far away, there in the sunshine, are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.”–Louisa May Alcott
I reflected on the challenges of the hike down–from starting at the trail’s end to encountering all of the rocks, roots, sharp and sudden dips, as well as the slippery sections filled with mud. What a likeness there was to life’s challenges–especially during the pandemic months. Through it all, the shadow side of the mountain, like the shadow side of life, Divine Providence was present; and there, in that moment, we were bearing witness to blessing cascading from the heavens above.
We now faced a .9 mile uphill slope, but the worst was behind us, and we were not completing it alone. Mount Mitchell would wait for another time. For now, we would stay a while, resting beside the cool, celestial waters.
“Be still, and know that I am God . . .I will be exalted in the earth.”–Psalm 46:10