The Best of the Unexpected

The term “best” is as subjective as they come. So when using a book entitled “Best Hikes with Dogs…” I realize I might not always agree with their choices. So far the only one less than stellar was Max Patch. From listening to others who have visited Max Patch, it seems my experience was unusual, and that I shouldn’t hold the weather against the landscape. I hoped that would be the only disagreement I had with the author in their consideration of  “best.”

When I was at Mount Mitchell (what I considered the very best), I saw this picture which made me giggle (because I’m twelve years old.)

Turns out that the hike that would lead you through all those points is in the top ten of the "Best Hikes." So, this weekend, I decided to give it a try.

I should have checked the copyright on the book. It appears since then, the overgrowth they mention at Big Butt has found its way down to Little Butt and beyond to Point Misery. There is no sign for the trail anymore, the “white rectangle” blazes are now yellow rectangles, and quite frankly it should be called Misery Trail instead of Butt Trail.

I enjoyed the remoteness of it as I go to the woods to enjoy nature, not human company of tourists. But I like certain things like trailhead markers so I know I’m at the right starting point.  It certainly wasn’t as the book described.

The main issue with the trail was that it was so overgrown on either side that it collapsed the trail, and Tucker being about 2 feet tall, got the brunt of weeds, seeds, and hopefully not foxtails in his face. If he was in front, his face was used to bushwhack through, and when I stepped in front, he got whipped in the head from the weeds that sprung back behind my legs.

I don’t know if we even made it to Point Misery. The trek there was so miserable, I made the executive decision to turn us around after an hour of walking, listening to Tucker gag and sneeze and pant the entire way behind me.

We only had two hours of walking, which just isn’t enough for us in a weekend. To not make the entire trip a disappointment, on our way back south, we stopped for another hike considered to be “best”: Craggy Pinnacle.

Indeed not remote, and yes, teeming with people, but I was totally okay with that. Back on the same page with the book, I have to agree that although a short hike, it is a great one. I found the trailhead instantly, and even though there were people, it wasn’t obnoxious. And honestly, you couldn’t beat the view--even from the parking lot.

The trail was like Mount Mitchell with tree roots and craggy rocks, but with an added garden appeal of walking through tunnels of rhododendrons.

Even the trees that weren't alive were beautiful.

Trails with craggy rocks and roots and logs to negotiate are all elements that put them on the "Best Hike" list in my own mind.

I thought we had reached the summit when we came upon this first rock and view, but that was just the switchback turn. This was just a preview.

Even more beauty awaited us only a little further up the hill.

Butterflies danced in the air at the summit’s landing, and people sat and had lunch.

It was far too hot for Tucker so we only stayed up out of the treeline for a little while to enjoy the view. He still wanted to see it all.

On the way back down, we took a turn to go to “lower summit.” Evidently everyone heads for the top, as we had the lower summit all to ourselves. And we even got this gorgeous view along the way:

Tucker was quite pleased to enjoy the view unobstructed by people taking pictures and children running around.

It is June, and the first time we’ve experienced anything resembling uncomfortable heat on our hikes. We’ve been lucky, or, I thought maybe this was simply the climate here in the Southern Appalachia. We’ve been hiking in the mid-60’s or 70 degree temps; today reached almost 90. But it still wasn’t Georgia hot. To me at least. But Tucker was clearly affected by the heat.

But that didn't stop him from taking in all the unspoiled nature around us.

After our two hours on Miserable Trail, and another hour of going up hill to the summits, I felt that Tucker was quite done for the day. His brain seemed to be melting. On the way back down the trail, I needed to advise him how to go around rocks and which paths to take to not have to jump. He had water, but the heat must have been baking him for the outside.

I overestimated Tucker’s tolerance by four feet. Note: that's not my truck.

The hikes today were not what I had planned, but sometimes the best paths in life are the ones we never expected to take.