Hiking the Appalachian Trail’s McAfee Knob

Posted on October 23, 2013 by Megan

The Appalachian Trail (AT) might be 2,180 miles long, but the short, approximately 4-mile, 1,740-foot climb up McAfee Knob from the Catawba Mountain parking lot (off Route 311) is one of the most popular sections. And I’m in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains to check it out firsthand.

Virginia's mixed hardwood forest. (Photo: M.Kopp)

Where in the white blazes… (Photo: M.Kopp)

With seven hikers and one small hitchhiker (a bubbly, almost three-year-old catching a lift with dad), it’s a boisterous crowd that heads out along the boulder-strewn, leaf-littered trail. Reaching the information kiosk just up the hill from the highway, we check the register and find the trail monikers of a few of the long-distance hikers: Big Heart, Typhoid Mary, and Giardia. In my head, I automatically start searching for names for my co-hikers: Tall Tree, Mama Bear, Little One, Sweet Southern Tea, Greyhound, Flight School, Chatty, and La Dama. I’ll call myself the Lucky Canuck.

We hit the trail – suspiciously heading downhill – following white blazes and clomping over four wooden walkways before inhaling the pungent scent of wood smoke as we near Johns Spring Shelter. Conversation is loud and continuous, discussing hiking and writing and travel and life. It carries our motley crew over a few more walkways and up the trail past Catawba Mountain Shelter. As luck would have it, we meet a “walking info kiosk” along the way.

A RidgeRunner show us the way! (Photo: M.Kopp)

Fletcher is a RidgeRunner, one of 30 such individuals who spend their weekends hiking a section of the AT. Fletcher’s job is to answer questions, spread the word about “Leave No Trace” ethics, and pick up garbage (he has a fishing pole, motorcycle gloves, a travel coffee mug, and a plastic water bottle in his pack today). He also carries a radio in case of trail emergencies. He tells us to look for Tinker Cliffs once we reach the summit and to see if we can find the town of Daleville – where the trail drops off the ridge.

Leaving Fletcher to continue his journey, we eventually cross the fire road, quickly realizing that the trail is now in a hurry to reach McAfee Knob. Conversations dwindle. We stop “to admire the view” a little more often. And then there’s a sign, nailed to a tree and pointing back down the trail – 3.9 miles to the highway. We’re almost there.

Fortunately, we aren’t expecting solitude at the summit. Cell phones and cameras record summit success as groups jockey for position on the rocky ledge. There is a chorus of “Can you take our photo?” But the view… even with the crowds… my jaw drops. There’s Tinker Cliffs, and that must be Daleville!

Summit views. (Photo: M.Kopp)

On the way down I realize, as I skip ahead of the group, that I’m a bit of a selfish hiker. I enjoy quiet time, digging deep into the recesses of my mind. As I find my stride, I start thinking about Grandma Gatewood. Her real name was Emma Rowena Gatewood. In 1955, at the age of 67, with 11 children and 24 grandchildren, Grandma Gatewood became the first woman to thru-hike the AT. She wore Keds and carried a laundry sack with a change of clothes, a plastic shower curtain to sleep on, a bit of food, a cup, a raincoat, and a first aid kit. She thru-hiked the AT again two years later and a third time – section, by section – when she was 75. What was she thinking as she walked this piece of the trail?

I found her, for a moment, her sneakers crunching the leaves beside my light hikers as we strolled together in silence. I didn’t ask any questions, I just thanked her for being my muse. I’ll be back again, this time to hike the whole thing. Maybe I’ll see you there.

When You Go:

Print a topographic map and trail description of the trail to McAfee Knob.
Roanoke is the perfect base for exploring Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains and this section of the Appalachian Trail.

Coping with Writing Burnout

Posted on October 7, 2013 by Megan

Three kid’s books deadlines, three travel writing contracts, one freelance travel article, and my biannual, continuing education travel writing course at Mount Royal University – September was fingers to keyboard and focus, focus, focus. The process tapped resources I didn’t know I had, but it left me feeling a little burnt out.

October’s seen this writer back out on the trail. With only a book to review and a small writing project lined up, I’ve got time to get outside before the snow flies.

Early October near Helen Lake, AB (photo: B.Kopp)

Or not!

Regardless of the weather, this writer is grateful for the energy that comes from grounding myself in the outdoors. It’s pure, positive, and powerful. Writing blocks crumble, creative thoughts abound, and words flow easily again.

How do you recharge when writing burnout looms?

Hiking Mount St. Piran

Posted on July 17, 2013 by Megan

Yes, I skipped out of the office – again – but the sun was shining and the mountains weren’t just calling, they were screaming at us to come play! We chose Mount St. Piran, one of the easier scrambles out of Lake Louise.

Swiss guides came to the area in 1899. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Following in the footsteps of the Swiss guides who built this switchbacking trail off Little Beehive, we sauntered up the deceptively easy grade.

Enjoying the view. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Near the summit around 900 metres above Lake Louise, the grade becomes less friendly for a short piece, before topping out with superlative views of Mount Lefroy, Temple, Niblock and Whyte – to name just a few.

Summit cairn. (Photo: M. Kopp)

So what writing idea emerged from this workday spent in play? I think I need to research and write a humorous piece with a message about life near the summit from the perspective of ptarmigan, ground squirrels and marmots.

“Drop the cracker, drop the cracker, DROP THE CRACKER!”

“Aww, come on you cheapskate!”

We didn’t – nor do we ever – feed the wildlife, much to their apparent dismay. Habituated wildlife becomes life without wild – and where’s the beauty in that?

Golden-mantled ground squirrel. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Stampede 101: Come Hell or High Water

Posted on July 15, 2013 by Megan

Metal entry banner at the Stampede Grounds (Photo: M. Kopp)

Metal tipi sculpture at the Stampede Grounds (Photo: M. Kopp)

It’s over… but it won’t be forgotten.

The 101st showing of the Calgary Stampede wrapped up on Sunday with over 1.1 million guests coming through the gates. In the wake of the city’s worst flooding disaster, Calgarians rallied and sweated and slopped and pulled off something just short of a miracle.

I was there in the middle of the festivities, wandering the grounds and wondering when I’d see signs of the disaster. Yes, the banks of the Elbow River were littered with debris and tracks of mud. True, the shutttered Saddledome was a tourist attraction if only for a glimpse in closed doors at the damage caused when water rose to flood up to eight levels of seating.

Oh, the timing! (Photo: M.Kopp)

But the only pool of water was in the – rather ironic – Bell water show. There were no traces of mud on the roads or walkways and only the odd patch of spongy grass in Weedickville. Water trucks actually had to spray down the dusty track – covered with over 2.5 metres of water just two weeks before – in between chuckwagon races.

“Come Hell or High Water” t-shirts dotted the crowds at the Stampede grounds the day I attended. The phrase became a slogan as the floodwaters receded and the Calgary Stampede adopted it and encouraged a community-funded campaign to support the Canadian Red Cross Alberta Flood Fund through purchases of the shirts.

Monday morning, as the Midway packed up and the grounds were cleared, the Stampede presented a cheque for $2.1 to the Canadian Red Cross Alberta Flood Fund on behalf of the community.

Isn’t it amazing what we can do when we work together?

On the banks of the Elbow, old and new stand strong. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Echoing words from Corb Lund’s “Blood, Sweat & Water” tribute:

“The banks of the river have crumbled,
And the currents uprooted the trees.
But in my eyes no city has looked quite as pretty,
As when Cowtown rose up from its knees.“

The Adventurous Side of Door

Posted on June 30, 2013 by Megan

I danced on Death’s Door – twice!

The first, as we crossed the strait heading from the northern tip of Door Peninsula over to Washington Island; the second time as we came back. My feet danced a little jig on the upper ferry deck in celebration.

Crossing Death's Door near Plum Island on the way to Rock Island. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Crossing Death’s Door near Plum Island on the way to Washington Island. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Door County, Wisconsin, named Porte des Morts for the Door of Death that is the treacherous strait linking Green Bay to the rest of Lake Michigan, isn’t on the radar of most Western Canadians. When I mention traveling to explore the tiny peninsula sticking out into Lake Michigan, friends and family look at me blankly.

“What’s there to do in Wisconsin besides eat cheese?”

Let me show you the adventurous side of the Door!

There are lighthouses to climb; 11 lighthouses in the county, although I only had time to climb the stairs of Cana Island, Eagle Bluff and Pottawatomie.

There are lighthouses to climb. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Cana Island Lighthouse (Photo: M. Kopp)

Countless bays and lakes are perfect for kayaking.

Kayaking out of Garrett Bay on the northern tip of Door Peninsula. (Photo: M. Kopp)

There are trails to hike in any of the county’s five state parks.

Hiking on Rock Island State Park. (Photo: M. Kopp)

There are beaches with rare polished white limestone rocks to explore.

Schoolhouse Beach on Washington Island. (Photo: M. Kopp)

And don’t even get me started on the excitement of a fish boil!

A classic fish boil at Rowley’s Bay. (Photo: M. Kopp)

It’s true, Door County might not yet be on your radar, but when you get there, you’ll wonder why you waited so long to visit.

When You Go:
Details on activities, accommodations, dining and more can be found online through the Door County Visitor Bureau.

Stories on Stone

Posted on June 22, 2013 by Megan

Whether you think of it as rock art, stories on stone or shamanistic visions – carved and painted images from prehistoric times capture the imagination.

Cub Creek petroglyph of lizard, not common at other sites. (photo: M. Kopp)

Dinosaur National Monument’s “Petroglyphs and Pictographs” brochure lists five viewing sites in the monument: Swelter Shelter, Cub Creek, Deluge Shelter, McKee Springs, and Pool Creek.

Kokopelli petroglyph in Dinosaur National Monument. (photo: M. Kopp)

We ran out of time before making it to Deluge Shelter and McKee Springs (both north of the Green River), but enjoyed the sun-exposed and faded paintings of Swelter Shelter, the impressive collection of pecked rock images along Cub Creek and the unique petroglyphs found high on a sheer sandstone wall along Pool Creek.

Pool Creek’s petroglyphs take a little bit to find. (photo: M. Kopp)

Pecked into the pinkish-hued sandstone, these Freemont glyphs are different in style. (photo: M. Kopp

Within Dinosaur National Monument, the dot pattern designs are only found at Pool Creek. The lower section of the petroglyph above was created by chipping away sections of the rock. Is it a headdress? A necklace? An artist’s vision?

The petroglyphs and pictographs* found in the monument are attributed to the Freemont people. Archaeological evidence of the Freemont dates from around 200 A.D. to 1300 A.D. While the people are gone, their presence remains strong a thousand years later.

Hmmm… maybe it’s time to start writing on stone!

(* Petroglyphs are images pecked, carved or chipped into rock. Pictographs are images painted on rock.)

Walk in Time: RCMP “Depot” Division

Posted on June 12, 2013 by Megan

Since 1885, “Depot” Division in Regina has been the training academy for RCMP cadets. It’s a place where tradition lives in every step, every crease, every building.

I was given the opportunity with a handful of other writers to experience a day in cadet boot camp, to walk in time through “Depot.” Although marching was something Troop TMAC never mastered, we did ace the observation portion of the experience.

In the evening I wandered the grounds, soaking up tangible history seen in wood and brick and stone.

Originally built as a mess hall in 1883, the Chapel is the oldest building in Regina. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Originally built as a mess hall in 1883, the Chapel is the oldest building in Regina. Partially destroyed by fire in 1895, it was re-opened as a chapel later that same year. The steeple was added in 1939. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Destroyed by fire in 1911 and rebuilt the following year, this was the Headquarters 0f the Royal North-West Mounted Police. In 1998, the building was named in honour of Commissioner Major-General Aylesworth Bowen Perry. (Photo: M. Kopp)

Constructed as a riding school in 1929, this building became the Drill Hall in 1953. Renovated in 2009, today’s polished wood floors in the cavernous interior reflect provincial crests on the walls and flags hung from steel trusses. Drill continues outside as cadets show Troop TMAC observers correct formation. (Photo: M. Kopp)

“Depot” Division reflects pride of tradition in every step, every crease, every building.

If You Go:

During July and August, the RCMP Heritage Centre hosts daily tours of RCMP Academy “Depot” Division.
Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, “Depot” hosts the Sergeant Major’s Parade on the Parade Square (or in the Drill Hill if the weather is bad).
Sunset Retreat Ceremonies are open to the public on July 1, 9, 16, 23, 30, August 6, 13 in 2013.
For more information, visit the RCMP Heritage Centre.

Southwest Fauna and Flora

Posted on June 8, 2013 by Megan

The best part of being a freelance writer is that I can choose to write about what I find interesting. Like desert life, for example.

It cracks me up when people say they don’t like the desert because it’s so barren. Nothing grows there. Nothing lives there.

Leapin’ lizards, what are they thinking? Lifeforms in the desert are as diverse as they are plentiful. Vibrant colours and camouflage acts and intriguing shapes abound.

Sometimes all it takes is a closer look.

Collared lizard (photo: B. Kopp)

Horned lizard (photo: B. Kopp)

Prickly pear pastels (photo: M. Kopp)

Pallid Milkweed (photo: M. Kopp)

“Wilderness. The word itself is music.”
– Edward Abbey

A Newbie’s Take on Cycling Fruita, Colorado

Posted on June 5, 2013 by Megan

I’m a writer, a hiker, an outdoor enthusiast – but not a great cyclist. I’m okay on paved paths and roads, even dirt roads, but take me out on a trail and there’s bound to be a wince, a bruise or some bloody reminder of why I’m better off on foot. I’ve scars to prove it.

If enough time goes by, I can be tempted to try it again. So when family and friends began working on me to bring my ancient mountain bike down to the desert for a recent Southwest getaway, I resisted, wavered and caved.

Fruita, Colorado is big biking country. (photo: M. Kopp)

Fruita, Colorado is big biking country. Yes, that is a telephone pole ahead of the front wheel. (photo: M. Kopp)

Fruita, Colorado has become what Moab, Utah was 10 years ago – a fresh space of slickrock and sand set to pedal. Our first ride was Mary’s Loop out of Kokopelli’s Trailhead – 8.5 miles of twists, turns, a few drops and – I’m serious – a whole lot of fun. Not that I rode the whole thing, there was a bit of walking involved, but I didn’t crash!

Mary’s Loop offers scenic overviews of the Colorado River. (photo: B. Kopp)

The crash came on day two, right out of the shoot at 18 Road. We were doing Joe’s Ridge. The trail description described it as moderate. I beg to differ. The first climb up on the ridge saw me flailing, falling and almost bawling. Another whopper bruise was added to the trail tattoos already gracing my legs.

I recovered along V.7 road, built up a little more confidence on Western Zippity, picked up speed on Zip Off and raced Zippity back to the lower parking lot.

Cycle terrain on Zippity at Fruita’s 18 Road. (photo: M. Kopp)

Do over? You bet. I’m a writer, a hiker, an outdoor enthusiast – and a wannabe cyclist!

Megan E. Kopp

FREELANCE WRITER

Category Archives: One Writer’s Life Blog