Boy Scouts On The Art Loeb Trail

The Art Loeb Trail stretches 30 miles across the Pisgah National Forest and into the Shining Rock Wilderness area. Much of the trail follows a bold ridge including many of the highest peaks in the area, regularly reaching altitudes of over 6,000 feet. The best part about this strenuous trail is that there are no trees atop the ridge, which provides a mountain top view at all times.
Dillon’s Boy Scout Troop 761 partnered with Bennettsville’s Troop 625 and departed for the mountains on March 25, 2017. The group consisted of 16 Boy Scouts and 7 adult leaders. We passed a field of buffalo along the way and everyone knew we weren’t in the Pee Dee anymore. We followed the Blue Ridge parkway through several tunnels until we reached Black Balsam Knob. This mountain is bare with no trees, and the peak reached into the clouds.
We divided our meals into 22 stacks and each scout took his food. Everything including trash had to be carried throughout the hike and tent partners were also mess partners. We had a short hike to camp Friday night and reached camp after dusk. The scouts hurriedly pitched tents in the wind. It was common to see people chasing a tent cover across the grass. The boys who finished their tents immediately worked to help others who were struggling.
After securing the tents, cooking partners took their mess kits and lined up to heat water. Dudley Beaty and I had our jet boils roaring and heated the water for each pair of scouts. Our meals were dehydrated in bags. After bringing water to a boil, we add it to the pouch which is sealed for 9 minutes, at which time the food is ready to eat.
Every now and then, there was a break in the clouds exposing another peak near us. There was light from a campsite and we knew that we were not the only ones crazy enough to be camping here. We hastily crawled into the tents and went to sleep. Lying in the sleeping bag, I could hear gusts of wind howling across the mountains, and the tent shuddered violently when it reached us.
Morning came early and the wind was still as fierce. We stepped out of the tent and the clouds were speeding by. I heated water for cooking and the whole outfit began to emerge from their tents. We were packed and on the trail by 9, standing at the base of Black Balsam Knob.
The trail ascending Black Balsam appeared to be short on the map, but it crossed tight contour lines, making the trail almost vertical all the way to the peak. We did not see the trail, so we scrambled up the slope through the cedar forest. We took frequent breaks and leaned against the trees. Climbing the mountain was a hard start but John Rourke and Ryan Stephens had searched ahead and reported that the top was near.
Before long there were no trees and we walked onto a clear bald. We were atop the ridge and found the Art Loeb Trail. There was a widespread relief across the troop but the mountain continued indefinitely into the clouds. We threw on our packs and trudged ahead. The worst was behind us when we reached the peak, but the clouds were so thick that we were missing out on arguably the best views in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Everyone had snacks, energy bars, and water to consume along the way, and we stopped regularly to refill empty jugs in the springs.The trail became steep once more as we ascended TennetMountain, the tallest peak of the hike. The trail was well worn and we took our time not to slip on a rock. We finally reached the peak and found a plaque reading, “Tennet Mountain, Elevation 6,040.” Charles Paul Midgley and Dudley Beaty took a picture shaking hands at the peak and we enjoyed a brief break to sit and eat. We all sat facing the same direction because the wind was still howling.
It was time to continue and so the troop saddled up and hiked down the mountain. We stopped at Ivestor Gap to eat lunch and refill water jugs. I noticed countless trade deals taking place between the scouts for water, beef jerky, and energy bars.
The mountain ahead had experienced corrosion lately and we were to follow a trail around it to the right. I hastily chose a trail and didn’t look back. We hiked and hiked and hiked when the worst question for morale was asked, “how much longer?” That was a question that I did not know the answer to, so I made something up. Ryan interjected saying that my distance guesses can’t be trusted. I stopped at one clearing and found Shining Rock with my telescope. It was a discouraging distance away and Cold Mountain (where we would finish) loomed even farther behind. I chose to refrain from broadcasting this observation.
Trails in the wilderness section are not marked, and some time passed before we realized that we were lost. Steve Akers and I looked at the map and used the contour lines to find our position. Most of the group was not in condition to climb back up, so we looked for the nearest road and made a new plan.
Walking in the back, I silently beat myself up for making such a dumb call on the wrong trail, but I got over my bad self and we started to take measures for our escape. Between us and the road was a ridge called “No Breeches Ridge” and we would have to find a way around it. The trail continued downward and we found water as the map showed we would.
According to the map, our trail will cross the river and split. Going right is a 3 mile trail to a road and going left is a 10 mile trail. We found the crossing but there was no split in the trail. The time was 5:30 pm, and the rain/night was fast approaching. Worst of all, we were in a steep gorge with no place to pitch a single tent. I scrambled the side of the mountain looking for where a broken trail might be, and then re consulting with my map. There was nothing so the only choice was to sprint the trail until I found a spot. I ran over half a mile and found the perfect clearing. I sprinted back up stream to report the news and the troop lifted their packs for the final leg of the day.
Reaching a flat campsite came with great relief and everyone knew their role for the evening. The scouts pitched tents, filtered water, gathered firewood, and cooked.
Saturday night was a relaxing night with great camaraderie because we ate all of our leftover meals and knew that a 10 mile hike in the rain awaits us in the morning. I watched everyone as they kicked off their shoes by the tents and crawled inside thinking about how some will stay dry and many will be soaked overnight. Morale will definitely be poor in the morning.
The rain began late at night but the tent stood firm so that John, Ryan, and I could sleep comfortably inside. Others were not so lucky and I heard them rustling in other tents searching for the hope of sleep. Morning came and the rain was still coming down. I stepped out of the tent to investigate the trail and make sure we were oriented. The river was high and after crossing, I noticed a tributary pouring into the river; one that I did not notice on the map. It was where the trails split and to my astonishment, I found the shortcut trail going off to the right.
The troop was elated to hear that we spared ourselves 7 miles, but the great news didn’t overt our next obstacle. We were to cross the East Fork River which was now roaring through the gorge. Keeping our boots dry was important because soaked socks lead to blisters. Ryan and John stood on a rock and I threw each backpack to them one by one. After catching a pack, they hopped a few rocks to the other side. Dr. John Bennett was hopping back and forth across the rocks to help the scouts as they crossed the river one by one. One of the scouts stepped towards my rock and slipped backwards still wearing his pack. Tilting in slow motion, he uttered, “uh oh” and we both tumbled into the river. Pearson climbed back on top of the rock and I watched my pop tarts disappear over a waterfall.
Everyone had crossed at this point and we started the hike. The pace was quick because the hope of civilization was now in reach. The scouts emerged onto the Blue Ridge Parkway about 2 hours later and a car came around the bend. All 22 of us had our thumbs up to hitchhike and the car sped by. One boy yelled, “What do we do now?” Frankie Frazier had all the scouts to sit and a few adults hitch hiked a ride to Cold Mountain to retrieve the cars.
This trip will live forever in the memories of these scouts and the struggles will probably multiply in intensity as the story is told over and over. I was extremely proud of the group because only two of the scouts have had any previous backpacking experience. Even though we did not reach the intended destination, we were always able to come up with a backup plan for our escape.

Loeb Trail

Loeb Trail

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