Crowders Mountain

My friend who occasionally accompanies me on the roads for a little double baby jogging caravan with our four children asked me earlier in the week if I would like to hit the trails, sans kiddies, sometime very soon. With zero hesitation, I said, yes, yes, yes, sign me up. We worked schedules out with the husbands and settled on Sunday morning, Crowders Mountain.

As a native Charlottean I feel a sense of shame, a lack of upheld duty to say this, but I've never been to Crowders Mountain. Ever. I've been all around it. Dallas. Gastonia. Up and down the mountains of Western NC. Heck, I've even been down to Pumpkintown (or is it Pumpkinville)and Table Rock State Park in SC. But not Crowders. I know lots of people who have gone. I've seen dozens of Facebook "on the Pinnacle" shots. So it also seemed like a statehood obligation that I finally make it to the mountain that is essentially in my backyard.

Amazingly enough, I managed a relatively early bedtime for the first evening in quite a while, which made my 6:15 rising and out the door by 7 easy enough. I made it to my friend's house by 7:15 and she was up and at 'em as well. I was surprised by how quickly we were on 85 and to the mountain area within the hour. And that included a stop at the local Food Lion where my wise and experienced pal made a purchase of ice, pretzels, and bananas.

I had my water bottle. Full of ice, expecting that it would be melted by the time we started our run. I also brought my camera, our new handy-dandy Vivitar. I had little experience with the camera before we began our run. I can now officially say that I love it. It was slim and light enough to fit into the pocket of a hand-held water bottle carrier--speaking of love, that was a borrowed piece of equipment from my friend before we began our run. It's the little things that I think, eh, I can get by without it. And that's true, but holy moly, the freedom the old hand-held system gave me was incredible. It's on my wish list now. Back to the Vivitar. The screen is larger than the bulky Fuji we've had for a few years. I can actually see the picture I've taken. Unless the sun is shining so bright, but that's by no means the fault of the camera. I will say it would be nice if it was waterproof, but after sweating and water bottle drippings falling upon it for several hours, it didn't seem to be bothered.

It was 8:30 when we headed off onto a trail. I wish I could remember the name of the beginning of our spot. It was the Ranger's station, and I think it was off Sparrow Springs Road. Wherever it was, it was already hot, so getting into the woods was refreshing.

And everytime I run off into the woods, the same thing happens. I lose all concept of time, place, worry. And I just run. Or in the case of trail running on Crowders Mountain, run gravel trails, climb rocky spots, leap over large roots, and hoof it up a straight-up, never-ending staircase that at moments made me feel like I was climbing to meet my maker, but what I found was a stunning view. And a bit of a breeze. It was very welcome, especially in light of our next adventure: rock climbing across Rock Top Trail. It is a trail. With a rock top. Not so much running at that point. Just a whole lot of careful foot placing and thinking, man, if I break my ankle, that's going to be tough on the ole Ropko fam.

But no one broke an ankle. Just a sweat. A big one. We made it back to the Ranger's station. It was 10:30. I was feeling a little sad that our time was up, then my friend said, Want to go on Pinnacle Trail? Yes. Yes, I did. So we took a potty break, refilled our water bottles (for the first time in my running life, I had demolished an entire bottle of water while running and was going in for a second), and headed back into the woods for more.

More sweat. More up the hill. Then REALLY up the hill. The top proved to be another stunning view. And it became clear just how hot it really was today. The view didn't stretch out as far as one might think, because it was stifled by a layer of steamy haze. But it was still stunning. And still physically gratifying to have chugged up that hill on our own two feet. The trip back down was both easier and harder. Easier, because it was downhill. Harder, because I didn't think I could produce any more sweat, and running on a trail means you MUST pick up your feet, and my feet weren't wanting to cooperate. And surprises of all surprises, I had managed to down another bottle of water, was completely out, and really wanting more. My good ole CamelBak-ed friend was kind enough to share some of hers.

She was also kind enough to share a warm banana, very cold Gatorade, and some pretzel rods. It was probably one of the best bananas I've ever had, and the salty pretzels hit the spot, too. I made a mental note to be better prepared next time. Post-run dry clothes. Water, water, and more water. Post-run snacks. A bag of ice. Next time. Already looking forward to next time.

But I can now say, I've been to Crowders Mountain, and I've run to the Pinnacle. And I've got the pictures on Facebook to prove it.