Grandell -- Calloway Peak --> Mount Mitchell FKT Attempt

It was Brian's twisted idea. He took the mostly enjoyable run we (Brian, Dennis, and me) had during his 2018 Spring Break on the Foothills Trail in SC and cranked it up a notch or two for 2020. Given that we'd all completed Pitchell before, Brian apparently wanted to attack the summit of Mount Mitchell from the other direction. But, where to start? I guess Table Rock was too close, so  selected the next most prominent peak to the east of it and chose Grandfather Mountain -- specifically Calloway Peak. The name, Grandell, was Dennis's suggestion, combining Grandfather and Mitchell. He wanted to play off of the Grendel character in the Beowulf epic poem.

Morning View From Profile Trail

So, here we were, after weeks of discussion and planning, trudging our way up the Profile Trail to Calloway Peak. Dawn was approaching and the higher we got, the more snow-covered and icy the trail got. It was never terrible, just enough to be slick, but not enough to fill in the gaps of roots and rocks. The forecast was favorable, no chance of precipitation, little wind, and generally good temperatures. It was currently in the low 30s with clear skies and no humidity.

The primary gear difference between this adventure and others was that I was using a 1.5L bladder instead of my two soft flasks. They were just uncomfortable when some of the water was gone and the lid poked against my chest. I had them in my drop bag, though, just in case. Speaking of drop bags, Brian's dad, Larry, would be meeting us at various access points along the route. We'd go anywhere between 6 and 15 miles between seeing him.

Calloway Peak

So, here we are on Calloway Peak. Far to the west, I'm sure we could see Mount Mitchell, but I couldn't pick it out from the other peaks. We'd begin by taking the Daniel Boone Scout Trail down to the Tanawha Trail, which the MST follows. Once we hit Tanawha, we'd be on the MST all the way to the summit of Mount Mitchell. The entire journey was calculated at 92-93 miles. I set a goal of 30 hours and had a challenge bet with some friends and the MST Board to raise money for the MST. Brian thought we could possibly do 28 hours, while Dennis expected even faster.

Coming Down Scout Trail

With the snow and ice on the trail, the first miles of the descent were cautious. Dennis, wearing slip-on spikes over his shoes, was a bit more aggressive. Brian and I just had our trail shoes for traction. The Daniel Boone Scout Trail was actually fairly runnable in many areas, but sharp turns and ladders, like pictured on the left, would also work against our pace. I'd been this trail once, several years ago, in a 10K a friend put on, but I'd forgotten that there were actually some smooth sections. We probably made decent time coming down that trail. The Tanawha Trail, however, would be a different story.

A Bridge on the Tanawha Trail

I'd been on this section of the Tanawha Trail a few times, but not enough to have remembered how tough it is to run for any significant period of time. I felt better knowing that Brian and Dennis also had forgotten how tough it was. We plodded along, making only one error at a split--we must have all been distracted because there was even a sign--that may have cost us ten minutes at most. Our spirits were good and the temperature was perfect. We were keeping a good pace (given the terrain) that shouldn't leave us in trouble later. 

Beacon Heights

When we finally arrived at Beacon Heights, Brian's dad was waiting for us just up the trail. We went down to the parking lot where he had everything laid out and some folding chairs set up. Apparently, he'd been talking to some other hikers because they asked about our adventure. While we dropped some unneeded clothing and refilled our water, he told the hikers about some other area trails they might like. We were already 45 minutes behind Brian's calculated 28 hour pace. He did not do a linear calculation where we held a steady pace, but one that somewhat took into account the terrain and elevation change. The next section had a lot of downhill, though, and maybe we could outperform his expectations and get some of the time back.

I'd never been down Beacon Heights before, but I'd been up it twice. Both times were Table Rock --> Beacon Heights runs. Going up, it's a tough climb. Going down, we mainly needed to get past the forest section up top to the dirt road where we could pick up the pace. It's about six miles down to Roseborough Road, where Larry would again meet us. The wooded section didn't have snow, but it was still rooty, twisty, and rocky, so pace was limited. This stretch (of course) passed much quicker than when I'd gone up it and we were on the dirt road before I expected it. It was a little muddy in spots, but we'd run more in the next few miles than we likely had in the first thirteen. We made what felt to be really good time down the road. It had been graded early on, but then we reached the huge ruts and washouts I remembered. I pictured myself driving my Jeep up this road, but the further down we got, the more I ruled that out as the ruts got deeper. We passed a mountain biker headed uphill and shortly after him we heard the distinct sound of a vehicle coming toward us. We were in a blind curve so we got up on the bank and watched as two guys in a new-looking Wrangler came through. A little after them, some dirt bikes came by. So far on the MST, we'd seen three people on foot, two on four wheels and four on two wheels.

Brian's dad was again ready for us as we rolled into the Roseborough Road parking lot. We'd hoped to be closer to our goal pace, but now we were 55 minutes behind. Either Brian had been overly optimistic in his estimates or we were just not doing as well as we should have. The flies were really bad in this area (which seemed odd for early March) so we tried not to linger long. We only had about 3.5 miles to go to the next access so we didn't need to get a lot of supplies.

A Waterfall on Lost Cove Creek Tr.

This stretch would be the start of a lot of creek crossings. In past trips through here, in warmer months, the creek crossings were a blessing and an opportunity to soak my hat and cool off. Today, they were an opportunity to ice our legs, but mine didn't really need icing at this time. The water was frigid, especially any crossing when you'd dried out and warmed back up from the previous crossing. Fortunately, it was about knee deep at the most. It's a scenic section that stays with the creek most of the time, but the trail is pretty rugged so we were again hiking instead of running. We passed Huntfish Falls, a spot I'd suggested Larry hike down to while waiting for us or after we come through, and began the long climb up to Pineola Road.

Huntfish Falls

This again was a stretch that obviously went by much quicker when I'd gone down it than this time going up. In my head, I had it at 1/4 to 1/2 mile, but it was closer to a mile, I believe, if not more. Brian's dad was parked at the upper section of Pineola Road so we still had a little bit of a walk/run once we hit the Huntfish Falls parking area. When we arrived at the car, we had again lost time and were now 1:15 behind pace. We were still ok for my 30 hour goal, but the trend was not promising.

Harper Creek Falls

The next section was a long one along Harper Creek and then up to Highway 181. There would be more creek crossings, but we surprisingly found the trail along the creek generally more runable than we remembered. It may have helped us gain back some lost time, but even though we were running, we certainly weren't doing eight minute miles. In fact, we probably weren't doing ten minute miles. We encountered a father and son hiking and a solo hiker on this stretch, but it was otherwise all ours. After the big Harper Creek crossing, we began climb to Raider Camp and ultimately Highway 181. There's a long section in this area that is much like being in a bobsled chute, with the bank rising steeply on each side. I could only wonder what it would have been like had it been muddy. As it was, only its steepness presented a challenge to us on this day. The faster pace we'd managed along Harper Creek was quickly being diluted by a long, uphill trudge. 

Highway 181 Crossing

We reached the Raider Creek area relatively quickly, and we had some runable downhill to Upper Creek afterwards. After we crossed, it was more long, steady climb. Dennis had been having some issues with his hip and foot and it was here that they began to get the best of him. He said they didn't hurt when running, but did when hiking, which was the majority of what we'd been doing. He began to talk about dropping at Highway 181. Brian and I encouraged him to not decide until we were there and to try different shoes. We were in the early stages of the mile 30-40 part of a run when a lot of people hit a bit of a low point. We hoped that's all it was and that it would pass. When we finally reached the Highway and Brian's dad, it hadn't passed and Dennis decided to bow out, fearing the problem only getting worse and being in a spot where dropping would be much more difficult. Larry had made chicken soup for everyone, I just "drank" a can of minestrone I'd brought.

We were now 1.5 hours behind our 28 hour goal pace, so still a little bit ahead of the 30 hour goal, but it wasn't going to get any easier. Andy, who is preparing for the Georgia Death Race, joined us here and would be with us to Highway 221, roughly 32 miles away. After getting clothing for the cooler night (it was now 7:00 p.m.) and our headlamps, we headed onward.

There are a couple miles of runable road and trail after Highway 181, which we used to make up a little time. Darkness fell upon us part way down the trail to Steele Creek. We were now on the Table Rock Ultras 50K course, but going in a direction I don't do very often. On the descent, we moved pretty steadily, but once we'd reached Steele Creek and began the long climb back out, our pace once again dropped, with the first mile up taking almost 22 minutes.

The trail does eventually level off somewhat, allowing us to jog a few flat sections and even the occasional downhill. After Dennis dropped at Highway 181, Larry took him back home and Brian was a little concerned we might beat him to this next access point, the Steele Creek Trailhead, where all the Forest Service roads meet below the road to the Table Rock picnic area. His fears were unnecessary, though, as we saw Larry waiting on the trail for us, just below his car.

At the intersection where Larry had parked, there was another group of guys car camping. They offered us an Oreo, which only Andy accepted. Here, I changed my socks to some thicker Smartwool socks, just to have dry feet for a little while. We still had the Linville River crossing ahead, so ultimately, my change only served to get rid of the socks that had accumulated sand and rocks from previous creek crossings, but they'd be dry for a while. It was 9:00 p.m. and we were now 1:45 behind the 28 hour goal.

We knew a long climb up to Table Rock lay ahead. We were not going to the summit, but we still had roughly 1000' of climb over the next two miles, including 800' in the second mile. Of all the segments that Brian had guessed some times for, I was least confident in what he put for this one. Even with the flat top of Shortoff, it would be very difficult to make good time on most of it, and it ended with a very tough climb out of the Linville Gorge. It was about halfway up the climb to Table Rock, just above the campsite area, where I bonked for the first time. It came out of nowhere. I wasn't dehydrated, so I tried eating half of a PowerBar. That seemed to work and after maybe five minutes, I felt better. I guess it was a blood sugar issue. I'd been eating way more than I usually do or can during runs like this, probably since it was so much hiking. Even though I'd brought what I thought to be more than enough, I was in more danger of running out of food than having any left at the end.

The Table Rock parking lot was empty, as was the adjacent camping area. With it being so late, there were no signs of life on the Chimneys, until there was. It almost seemed to be something out of a hallucination as we looked across the Chimneys and saw what looked to be Christmas lights and heard the faint traces of music. As we drew closer, the music had a "hippie" vibe to it, but with a mix of Indian (the country) styles. I was sure I heard a sitar. The Christmas lights had been strung up in the air in an outline of the campsite, with even a doorway outlined in lights. The campers were still up and said hello, but we just returned the hello and moved on, not wanting to know what might be going on there. I half wondered if maybe they were awaiting the incoming mothership.

The trail down from the Chimneys is usually rough, but on this day it was also crowded by young pines growing along the path. Brian and Andy moved much quicker than me, partly because I kept trying to get a picture of Morganton's lights in the distance and partly because they were a bit bolder. A nearly full moon was overhead, drowning out many of the stars. The Orion constellation was there watching over us and a very bright planet, either Venus or Jupiter hung low in the sky. Aside from the campers and the occasional wind, it was very quiet. On Shortoff, we were able to run some, but there were (like we'd found all day) a lot of fallen trees that were too high to jump and to low to duck.

We encountered one small group of (sleeping) campers on Shortoff and for some reason, the trek across the top seemed to go by quicker than it has on past runs in the daytime. I don't think we moved any faster, so maybe not being able to get my bearings in the dark just made it feel like it went by more quickly.

Brian and Andy again dusted me down the trail to the Linville River. I only caught up because they had stopped to get some food. One of the questions looming over us the entire time was what the Linville River crossing would look like. We hadn't had a lot of rain recently, but couldn't bank on that meaning a low river. As it was, the water got up to about the bottom quarter of my running shorts. It was ice cold, though, the chill enhanced by the fact that it was the middle of the night and the outside temperature was in the 30s. Both Brian and I were using our poles to stabilize against the current and very slick rocks. Andy didn't bring poles and after a couple of very-near spills, he gratefully accepted the use of one of mine. Once across, we steeled ourselves for what we all knew to be a tough climb ahead.

The trail starts off innocently enough, but then turns into a lung-busting, muscle-burning, gut-wrenching grind, gaining 1200' in the final mile. Brian and Andy were ahead of me and I didn't once complain when they paused for an oxygen break. There are few switchbacks on this stretch and the only positive thing we had going for us was that it was not muddy. I'd been up it before, years ago, but I couldn't really remember any landmarks, not until I saw the overlook ahead, after what seemed to have been an eternity of torment. At the observation platform we paused to catch our breath and headed on down the trail to pick up Old Highway 105. Brian's dad was waiting about a mile down the road. They ran on ahead and I mostly walked until I hit some downhill.

I'd been thinking about dropping since somewhere between Table Rock and Shortoff and it was here I informed them I was doing so. Brian had Andy with him to Highway 221 and Doug was to meet him (us) there for the final leg to Mount Mitchell. 

My dropping was based on three primary factors. First, I felt like I was slowing Brian down--primarily on the downhills. Second, and perhaps primarily, it was becoming increasingly apparent that Mount Mitchell State Park would not be open, meaning we would have to hike back down to the campground afterwards. When my energy was focused on getting to the top, I felt almost certain, I would not be able to muster up the mental state to slowly make my way back down a potentially hazardous trail when I was cold and tired.

At this point, we were three hours behind the 28 hour goal so an hour behind my 30 challenge bet. Had I felt like finishing in good shape was possible, I might have continued despite not making the goal time. Having plenty of time between now and his next stop, Larry took me back to our house in Valdese then went to meet Brian at Highway 221. I later learned that was where Brian dropped, feeling obligated to accompany Andy to his car there. The twelve mile stretch had taken them 5.5 hours, making me more than a little glad that I chose to bail when I did.

The next day, I looked back on my Strava data and noticed that we never covered a mile in under ten minutes. The climb out of the Gorge and up to Pinnacle was by far the longest, taking over thirty minutes. We've talked about whether we'd try it again and haven't really settled on a yes or no answer. My guess would be that it is doubtful, but it's hard to say for certain. At some point, I'd like to do all the miles of the MST and this route didn't involve any new miles for me. I'm thinking something a little less aggressive, like Jumping Off Rock (where I started my Birthday Run) to Hanging Rock or Pilot Mountain State Parks.


Strava Summary