September 28, 2009
One of my main responsibilities this semester is to assist with the Southern Outdoor Adventure Program also known as the SOAP program. As mentioned before, I was inducted into the SOAP program through the epic Nickajack trip. Hoping to get a better handle on leading trips here at Southern, I was given the opportunity to lead two more trips this month: Whigg Meadows Camping Trip and a combo trip to bike the Virginia Creeper.
I co-lead the Whigg Meadows trip with a fellow GA and apartment mate, Ann. Our personalities and work styles complimented each other well. The biggest challenge was keeping the masses at bay. This trip was a popular choice, but learning from my previous experience, I stayed firm on keeping the cap at twenty-two. Overall, the trip went swimmingly with great weather and fellowship.
Fast forward to this past weekend. I still have yet to find the word that best describes this trip. Epic would suffice, but I feel that word is being overused as of lately. This… monumental event was truly inconceivable. The kick off point began with only 4 out of 7 people showing up to go on the trip. This made my co-leader Jeremy and I question whether we should even run the trip.
In hindsight, we probably would have been better off to stay home but then I wouldn’t have a story to tell. So we left for Virginia with 4 students, 2 to hike Mt. Rogers with Jeremy and 2 to bike the Virginia Creeper with me.
When we arrived at our campsite, it was raining. Not a hard rain by any means, but we set up camp and made a fire. The next morning looked promising as we woke up to an overcast sky. Being the Sabbath we took our time getting ready to go.
As the bike team pulled out of the camp ground to make our way to the trailhead, the rain started. Slow and steady the water fell, as we tried to navigate our way through the county roads in a 12-passenger van with a trailer in tow. Many times we had to turn around. At one point we came upon the Virginia Creeper trail, but unfortunately it wasn’t the trail head. I decided to pull into the parking lot of this back country, roadside convenience store to ask for directions.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I immediately regretted it. On any other day, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. However, with the rain coming down heavier and for over an hour this grass parking lot what not a good choice. Nevertheless, I hopped out of the van and ran in to inquire about the trailhead.
After being informed that I needed to take road 76 in the next county only a few miles away, I informed them I was most likely stuck in their parking lot. My situation was confirmed as I returned to the van. I was followed by the man from the convenience who so graciously informed me that he made a phone call to a man up the road who was going to bring down his tracker to haul us out.
Not more than seven minutes later, we were back on the road in search of the same road we were on but in the next county. After a bit more searching, out mark was finally found. With bikes unloaded, we hit the trail for our 17-mile ride.
17 miles might seem like a lot especially after getting such a late start in the day. The beauty of the Virginia Creeper trail is that from Whitetop to Damascus it is all down hill. Two and a half hours later, we were riding into Damascus completely soaked and speckled with mud from riding though 17 miles of saturated gravel and dirt.
Damascus seemed like a ghost town due to the ever-present downpour of rain. We rode to the first bike shop I knew of to inquire about their next shuttle. To my dismay, they didn’t have any more shuttles running that late in the day. I was advised to try anther bike shop down the road which ended up being closed when I got there. Further down the strip I went and finally found a place that would run a shuttle for us (for a nice hefty fee or course). With my only other option being to hitchhike at this point I went for the shuttle taking my fellow bikers with me.
In transit back to Whitetop, the driver informed us that he heard on the radio it was predicted that by the end of the day they would have accumulated more rain that day than the amount of rainfall for the entire year thus far. I could only laugh as I recalled the moments on the trail when I could hardly see because of all of the water shooting into my eyes.
Trying to avoid another episode, I told the driver where we were camping and asked if he new the shortest way back. A vision of the gas gage encroaching on E flashed before my eyes, so I asked him where the nearest gas station was as well. His experience proved to be an asset as we found our way back without a problem.
As we rendezvoused with the others who were just as soaked as we were, we came to a consensus that we would head back to Tennessee instead of staying another night. We arrived back in Collegedale at 1:30am. I was tired and in disbelief of what had occurred in the last 36 hours. My clothes were still damp, and I still was finding bits of dirt on my face. Only then did I truly understand the tag line of the program: Get Dirty with SOAP.
September 29, 2009
