Backpacking the Art Loeb Trail
One October morning, five of us jumped in my friend’s truck and headed to backpack the Art Loeb Trail in the Blue Ridge Mountains. We had been hoping to backpack this for a while, but the rain washed out our plan multiple times. Tired of waiting for a perfect day, we bought rain gear and chose a weekend to backpack no matter what happened. Little did we know, we had picked a day when the East coast was predicted to get its worst tropical storm ever.
TRAIL INFO: The loop-trail we backpacked is approximately a 19-20 mile loop that starts at Cruso Road, follows the Shining Creek path which eventually joins into the Art Loeb Trial. The trail then climbs to Tennent Mountain with 360 views all the way to Black Balsam Knob. It then slowly descends into the ‘Mountain to Sea Trail’, which loops back to Cruso Road via the Big East Fork Trail. The total elevation gain is about 4,200 ft.
The two-hour car ride was teeming with energy and excitement, added with hip hop and pop that kept us awake and pumped for the adventure. As we got closer to the trail-head, thick fog rolled in, and we found ourselves driving on curvy mountain roads with nearly zero visibility. We parked the truck in a little gravel area, and quickly began suiting up in our rain gear as if we were preparing for a pandemic, making sure every inch of our skin was waterproof.
Spirits were high as me, Piyusha, Dustin, Misha and Nab began to tackle the trail. Our goal was to hike about 8 miles and set camp on top of Black Balsam Knob, and then descent the remaining 12 miles the following day. As soon as we began hiking, thunder broke the heavens, and a river poured down the sky. The constant sound of rain hitting our jackets, the sound of the raging river beside the trail, and the sound of leaves crunching under our feet felt like music to our ears as we began hiking deeper into the forest.
Six hours into the hike, the rain and wind doubled. The trail had turned into a shallow stream, and we couldn’t help but hike right through it. The rain had somehow found its way into my rain-jacket and I felt the water crawling all the way down into my socks. The numbness consumed my legs and I had my own little puddle inside my shoes. But hiking through a constant tunnel of colorful autumn colors and our non-stop chatter kept our spirits high.
Our pace was slow, accented by twitching calves and constant shivering that made it even harder to maintain our balance with our heavy backpacks as we traversed mudslides that were a walking trail few hours earlier. Far from making it to the top of Black Balsam Knob before dark, we stopped to eat lunch. We all cuddled around the only camping stove that we carried, warmed our hands while we boiled ramen noodles. After gaining our strength, we were once again back on the trail battling rain, wind, mud and of course our heavy soaked backpacks.
After hours of pushing ourselves uphill, we eventually came across the Art Loeb Trail. We quickly looked at our map and decided to hike 3 more miles to the top of Tennent Mountain and set camp there before dark. As we made our way towards the summit, the thick forest cleared its way to a grassy ridge. We could only imagine what we had gotten ourselves into. Forty miles/hr winds racing through the valley and shooting over the ridge tearing through anything that came in its way added to the challenge. The rain was literally hitting us sideways. With just enough daylight left, we reached the summit of Tennent Mountain. All of us had the same thought ...
“There is no way we are camping out here.”
Neither we or the tent would survive the fierce wind and rain if we camped there. The wind was so powerful that it could shoot all five of us with our tents down the valley. Hungry, shivering, and drenched, we hiked down to the other side of the ridge and set up our tents at the first flat spot we came across.
A few days back while planning the trip, we were looking forward to setting up campfire, eating smores and telling ghost stories. But none of that was gonna happen now. We were so tired fighting the wind and rain that we just wanted to crash. We thought the base tarp and rain-fly would protect us from water getting into our tents. Everything was standard procedure to us by this point, but mother nature has no standard. Our shelter and warmth was now compromised and we were soon sleeping in 4-inch deep water. I wrapped my torso and legs in my soaked sleeping bag just waiting for the night to be over.
The morning was incredibly tranquil. Nothing in the world felt better than the warm sun rays beaming through bare trees. As we continued our hike, determined to complete the trail, there was nothing to be heard but the cool morning breeze and my breathing. As we reached the summit, we felt rewarded, paid with awe-inspiring views. For the first time on this adventure, I experienced the sheer massiveness of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The mountains rolled on beyond the perception of my eyes, and the further I looked the deeper they began hiding behind that iconic blue mist.
Day hikers looked at us in amazement as though we had survived a war with nature. To be honest, we did! We felt a little proud as one hiker admired our guts to camp in the middle of the worst storm in years. He mentioned that the storm was so bad that they had closed the forest roads.
We had become pros at cruising the trail by now. We hopped through roots, puddles, mud and rocks like we’ve been doing this forever. Our shoulders were so numb that we hardly felt the weight of our backpacks. We ate a few energy bars at Black Balsam Knob and finally started our descent. But the trail was far from over. The next 8 hours, we hiked without a break and finally stopped for lunch by a waterfall by the parkway road. Nab had hurt his foot, and someone offered to give him a ride back to our truck where he would spend the next 6 hours waiting for us.
We hiked as fast as we could to make it back to our truck before dark. I felt my breathing get heavy and my legs get tight, reminding me of the challenges to come. The trail winded down the mountain and back to the river, where we boulder hopped and got back onto the trail. My head filled with imaginary thoughts of us having a lavish dinner that night and the comfort of my cozy bed. As we hiked the final mile, it got dark and we started working together to cross ravines and boulders. The last mile felt like the longest mile I’ve ever hiked. The sight of the road in the distance was a treat to our eyes. We took a last selfie together, hopped in the truck around 9pm, and headed home where a lavish Indian meal was waiting for us.
The challenges on this hike made our experience much more adventurous and memorable for me. It made me feel how helpless one can be against the power of nature, and made me realize the comforts in life that I take for granted. But honestly, if you ask me if I’d ever camp in the storm again…. HELL NO!!
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