Post by GaliWalker on Jul 1, 2024 11:02:21 GMT -8
As I drove through Canaan Valley, enroute to Dolly Sods, I began to encounter a lot of debris on the roads, a result of the heavy overnight rain that had hit the area. The 3.2mi of Forest Road 19 leading up to the trailhead for the Rohrbaugh Plains trail was in the poorest shape I'd ever seen it, with quite a few deep runnels (now dry), possibly carved out by the recent rain. I began to suspect then that my original hike route of crisscrossing Red Creek a couple of times was in jeopardy. This line of thought was reaffirmed not long into the hike. Large stretches of the trail had 2-4in of water flowing down it, and every side stream that I crossed, which would usually be an innocuous undertaking, was a tricky rock-hop. I was glad of my boots' solid waterproofing.
Conditions at the No Name Vista were quite special. Clouds would periodically lift from their breeding grounds in the Red Creek valley and stream past. I'd be in opaque mist one moment, and in the clear the next. Near the end of my 1hr stop there I even got to enjoy some sunshine.
As I headed down towards Red Creek it began to rain, but the squall soon passed. Red Creek was running as high as I'd ever seen it, and Red Creek Falls were thundering. I saw some folks crossing Red Creek, but they were hip deep in the water, so I decided to make this my turn around spot.
Mired
For my return leg I opted to exit via the Wildlife Trail, and then walk FR19 back to my car. I've always found the Wildlife Trail to be muddy, but I figured it couldn't be worse than the Rohrbaugh Plains Trail, so would make for a faster and lower stress exit. I was wrong. Right at the start of the Wildlife Trail, as I came upon the first muddy section, I saw a side path that looked like it might bypass the mud, so I took it. Unfortunately, it dead-ended in another muddy section. Oh well, I'll just have to cut back to the trail through the mud. I took a couple of steps and my hind leg started to sink downwards, and before I knew it, the entire leg was submerged. The front leg also sank, but only down to the knee. I tried to pull my rear leg out, but it was stuck fast; mud had piled up on top of my foot and its weight was making it impossible to pull the foot out, even when I strained with full power. My feelings of "Yuck!" quickly turned to "Oh ****, this is bad".
It's amazing how quickly the mind works when you're in trouble. In two seconds, literally, I had a plan. I knew that I might be able to pull out my foot if I pointed my toes downwards, but I also knew I might lose my boot (which, mind you, was tightly laced up) that way, and I wasn't prepared to do that. So, I stuck my pole into the mud, alongside the submerged leg and tried to create some space above my foot. As soon as I felt a bit of give, I tried to pull the leg upwards. Inch by inch, exerting maximum leg strength, I got the leg out. I swung it forward, but it sank at the next step, only down to the knee thankfully. Basically, I was still mostly stuck and knew that walking wasn't going to work, with the added risk of finding another deep hole. So, I spread myself wide and crawled atop the mud for about 6ft before I was free. I could see thin worms teaming on the surface of the mud in front of my face, but it was survival time, so it felt like an interesting factoid rather than something revolting.
When I was upright again, I looked down and I was plastered from the waist down in slimy, goopy, thick black mud. I tried to wipe it away with some leaves, but that was a losing proposition. Then I heard a burbling stream, so I headed to it and tried to clean myself up as best I could. Finally, with squelching boots I headed to my car, where I had a change of clothes and footwear waiting.
Stats: 9.6mi, 6.5hrs
Conditions at the No Name Vista were quite special. Clouds would periodically lift from their breeding grounds in the Red Creek valley and stream past. I'd be in opaque mist one moment, and in the clear the next. Near the end of my 1hr stop there I even got to enjoy some sunshine.
As I headed down towards Red Creek it began to rain, but the squall soon passed. Red Creek was running as high as I'd ever seen it, and Red Creek Falls were thundering. I saw some folks crossing Red Creek, but they were hip deep in the water, so I decided to make this my turn around spot.
Mired
For my return leg I opted to exit via the Wildlife Trail, and then walk FR19 back to my car. I've always found the Wildlife Trail to be muddy, but I figured it couldn't be worse than the Rohrbaugh Plains Trail, so would make for a faster and lower stress exit. I was wrong. Right at the start of the Wildlife Trail, as I came upon the first muddy section, I saw a side path that looked like it might bypass the mud, so I took it. Unfortunately, it dead-ended in another muddy section. Oh well, I'll just have to cut back to the trail through the mud. I took a couple of steps and my hind leg started to sink downwards, and before I knew it, the entire leg was submerged. The front leg also sank, but only down to the knee. I tried to pull my rear leg out, but it was stuck fast; mud had piled up on top of my foot and its weight was making it impossible to pull the foot out, even when I strained with full power. My feelings of "Yuck!" quickly turned to "Oh ****, this is bad".
It's amazing how quickly the mind works when you're in trouble. In two seconds, literally, I had a plan. I knew that I might be able to pull out my foot if I pointed my toes downwards, but I also knew I might lose my boot (which, mind you, was tightly laced up) that way, and I wasn't prepared to do that. So, I stuck my pole into the mud, alongside the submerged leg and tried to create some space above my foot. As soon as I felt a bit of give, I tried to pull the leg upwards. Inch by inch, exerting maximum leg strength, I got the leg out. I swung it forward, but it sank at the next step, only down to the knee thankfully. Basically, I was still mostly stuck and knew that walking wasn't going to work, with the added risk of finding another deep hole. So, I spread myself wide and crawled atop the mud for about 6ft before I was free. I could see thin worms teaming on the surface of the mud in front of my face, but it was survival time, so it felt like an interesting factoid rather than something revolting.
When I was upright again, I looked down and I was plastered from the waist down in slimy, goopy, thick black mud. I tried to wipe it away with some leaves, but that was a losing proposition. Then I heard a burbling stream, so I headed to it and tried to clean myself up as best I could. Finally, with squelching boots I headed to my car, where I had a change of clothes and footwear waiting.
Stats: 9.6mi, 6.5hrs
