Bull Mountain

Way back in November, my brother managed to get a bunch of us together for a Bull/Jake ride. This was somewhat unusual, actually. While group rides were the norm ages ago, it seems like, for as long as I can remember, all of us that used to ride together a lot, mostly ride by ourselves. It kind-of makes sense during the week, and somewhat on the weekend, if I'm exploring something, which I often do. IDK, it seems rare these days, and it's great when we manage to do it.

The crew was me, Marc, Patrick, John, and Austin. Me and John met over at Austin's place and piled everything into John's truck. I vaguely remember some confusion on the way over, but I don't remember what it was now. Whatever it was, it wasn't too serious, I guess.

We parked at the Jake Lot, and started getting ready. The rest of the crew met us soon after and we hit the trail.

It was November, and ought to have been cold, but it really wasn't yet. The leaves had mostly fallen, and the trail was slow, but it was still pretty warm.

We took the connector over to Bull Mountain, and started climbing. It seems like every time I ride with Austin, I'm recovering from illness, and this time was no different. I was a bit more recovered than the previous couple of times, but still, I was struggling a bit more than the rest of the group.

When we got to the Great Rift, for example, there's a line up to the right that you can kind of punch up and then tightrope along the edge for a while. I'd done it the last time I was up there, but I barely had the strength that day. I got up to the edge, but creeping along it just took too much effort.

Fortunately, everybody else had to walk too...

...so, it wasn't like I was dragging back too badly.

The operative part of that last bit being "too badly". I was dragging back a bit, and we had to regroup a couple of times.

It was still early in the day though, and I did manage to wake up as the day wore on. Or maybe everybody else just got tired faster than I did. Who knows?

We made it up to the top of Bear Hare in good time and began the tricky descent. Bear Hare is rough when it's not covered in leaves, but the leaves add a whole nother level. Austin discovered this firsthand, crashing about halfway down the singletrack section. He was ok, but it was reportedly a pretty hard crash. (I didn't see it) When we regrouped, we asked him the standard questions and checked his pupils. He seemed ok, so we pushed on.

I led down what used to be fire road, but is really just more singletrack these days. At the bottom, Patrick approved of how well had been moving, and I was pretty flattered.

It was kind-of uneventful around the back side, except for the kick up the Whoop-de-dos, which was kind-of tough. Harder than I remembered. But the rest was fine. I wasn't dragging back.

The new trail down to the dam seemed a lot longer than I remembered. Like 3 times as long. It was a little damp and leafy, so I couldn't really rail it like you can in the summer, but it was still a lot of fun.

From there, we climbed up Jones Creek Ridge. I think this photo is from somewhere in the switchbacks, but I could be wrong.

Similar to the dam trail, the descent down Jones was leafy and sketchy, and I couldn't really rail it.

At Winding Stair, we had some decisions to make. How long of a day did we really want to put in? Marc had said he wanted to get in 4 hours or more. If we climbed Winding Stair, there were various options for coming back down that would add all kinds of miles and elevation, but after weighing the various options, it didn't seem like any of us was really up for much more than the standard Bull/Jake loop.

We climbed a bit more, took Turner Creek down and over, hit whatever that new trail is called. Shefton? It wasn't in any better condition than when I last rode it. Lots of downed trees. It doesn't seem to get much use. From there we jogged over to No-Tell, climbed and bombed that. Austin crashed again somewhere in all of that, but I don't remember where. Again, it wasn't a bad crash, but it's generally not good to crash in the back country. Got to follow the 100% rule.

We skipped Montgomery Creek and took Black Branch back toward the lot. Nobody crashed in there. In fact, me and Patrick, again, had an exceptionally good time on one of the longer descents. There's a downhill out there with a bunch of little natural jumps. They're shallow and small, but you're really moving, so you can boost them a bit for some pretty good hang time.

Austin was lagging back a little coming off of Black Branch. He's really fast and strong, but 4 hours on the bike, in the actual mountains, is a long time. Actually, just about everybody was lagging back, while I was still feeling pretty good. Heh, heh.

We picked up Jake and took it to Jones Creek. The water was cold, but we didn't bother trying to keep our feet dry, it was only like a mile and a half back to the lot from there.

Almost immedaitely after crossing Jones Creek, I felt bad about gloating, if even just to myself. I cramped super, super hard as soon as we started climbing. It was brutally painful. Like Steve Julian during ORAMM painful. I pushed through it though, and was pretty well over it by the time we got out of the switchbacks. When we finally got back to the lot, the cramps had passed. I fully expected to lock up again changing clothes, but it never happened.

Woo!

We grabbed some food at El Jinete in Dawsonville. I wonder how many dozens of times I've eaten there over the years...

From there, we headed back to Austin's place and I got the sleepies pretty good. Fortunately I wasn't driving, which is rare. I was fine driving back to my place, but when I got home, I had that whole body tired going and crashed super, super hard on the couch. Fortunately, hunger pangs woke me up in time for dinner, or I'd have probably just slept all night.

Cohutta Pinhoti

Last weekend's camping adventure went reasonably well, but I was colder than I wanted to be for a few hours. To remedy that, I did some research, and it turns out Thermarest's modern NeoAir has an R-value of 6.9, as compared to the 4.something my old one from 2009 had. It's also mummy-shaped rather than rectangular. Sol also now makes a thermal bivvy. I don't remember the R-value, but it was much higher than that of the Escape Lite that I currently have. It's also roomier and longer. If I could get the two of those to fit in my bag, they might suffice down into the 30's.

Hmmm....

Only one way to find out. I ordered both, they came in mid-week, yep, they fit, and I was back in the mountains this past weekend.

This time, I drove up to Ellijay...

...and parked my car at Mulberry Gap. I'd hoped they'd had some packets of Chamois Butt'r, as I'd used my last one last weekend, but no, it turned out they completely sold out of them during the TNGA, which I guess makes sense. Jackie joked something like: "blame the guy that created that race."

Heh, heh. Yeah.

It was pretty late when I got going, like 4PM or so, but that suited me fine. I intended to make my way over to P6 and camp next to that first water crossing on the grasstrack, like I did about this time last year. I had just about the right amount of time for that.

The climb up to Mulberry Gap proper felt fine, which bode well for the rest of the day.

I cleaned all the switchbacks on P3.

Again, the bike felt "normal", not heavy or awkward. My seat bag did somehow want to brush my legs sometimes though, which I really don't like, but it didn't always do it. It didn't used to do it at all with the old seat post. I guess the new one puts it in a slightly different position. IDK. I'm not super sold on the new post. The way it grabs the seat is way better for various reasons, but it gets creaky, and depending on temperature changes, the seat can move slightly. Just slightly, but a noticeable amount.

At Hwy 52, I hung a left and rode over to the overlook.

It's trying to be fall up there, but fall hasn't hit super hard yet.

Three different families arrived while I was sitting there. One of them seemed to have never been up there before, or to anywhere similar, and was surprised how much you could see.

P4 seemed like it might get more traffic these days. Last year it was leafy and needly, and generally slow. The tread was a lot cleaner and faster this time.

At the intersection with Tatum Lead Road, construction is coming along on whatever they're building there.

They'd just started on it last year. Now, it's pretty well built. Looks like a lodge or resort or something. I'll be interested to see what it ends up being.

The only drag of the whole ride was the next climb.

It's my least favorite climb in the entire National Forest. I've ranted about it before though, and I don't have anything new to say, except that the gravel was looser than usual this time, because of course it was.

Like 90% of the way up that climb, there's a little billboard off to the right for a realtor. Her name is Tina, and I've seen one incarnation or other of the same billboard, with her face on it, for the last 20 years. I noticed a new photo this time, or at least I didn't recognize it, so I think it's new. It's neat that the same realtor has been selling property up there for all this time.

Heading out on Tatum Lead, I noticed a van with a bike trailer, and figured there might be a guy on a motorcycle out on Tatum Lead. Yep, a few turns later, I passed him coming the other way. It was getting a little dusky, so I had my commuter lights on, and that turned out to have been a good idea because he didn't immediately see me, and had to get on the brakes and jog right to dodge. He missed my by a really wide margin though. I wasn't in any danger.

"Sorry!

"No problem!"

Last time I took Rock Creek down, but this time I figured I'd ride P5 instead. Long ago, upper P5 had a gnarly rut on it, right as it bent to the right to begin sidehilling. I always remember it being there, but it hasn't actually been there for like 10 years, so I'm always like: "oh yeah, they fixed that." Once again, I forgot that it wasn't there and chuckled at myself for making that same mistake.

A little after where P5 flattens out, there was a guy camping off to the right. He didn't look like a bikepacker or hunter. Just a random guy camping. We waved to each other.

The flowers in the field struck me as especially pretty.

Usually it's just super tall grass, but actual little flowers were discernible everywhere this time through.

Past the pipe gate, there were multiple pickups parked at each of the various camp sites. Firearms season is just getting cranked up, and everybody's out making the most of it. This past weekend might have actually been opening weekend. I actually meant to check that earlier in the week. If I had, and if it was, then I'd have ridden gravel roads to let the hunters have the trails, and worn an orange jersey. But, I forgot, and I was well committed to the route before I realized. Maybe next year.

Off to the left, I kept noticing fall colors. Fall colors everywhere! This photo really doesn't do it justice.

I felt good when I hit FS3. This time I remembered to bring clif blocks and bars, and I didn't have to eat little sausages to keep my energy up. In fact, I didn't bring any little sausages at all, or that Moon Cheese either. Neither of those were very good last time.

There's an old chimney on FS3. I've kind-of always wanted to camp there, and make a fire in the actual chimney, but it's like 20 feet off of the road, and not very secluded.

Maybe some day when it's really cold and snowy or something.

There was a pickup parked at the start of the P6 grasstrack, and I ran into a pair of hunters walking out, not a quarter mile in. One had a white headlamp, and the other had a green lamp. I've seen red before, but never green. I know red is meant to preserve your night vision. I wonder what green does. Interesting!

I reached my campsite about a half hour after dark, or at least about a half hour after I needed to start using my headlamp. I got a fire going right away, and set up camp.

I love how creepy flash photography of a camp site always looks. It's like a crime scene photo or something.

Dinner was tortellini, again.

That's been my go-to dinner lately. I've been wanting to try cooking some other stuff, but I need to practice at home first.

I had a harder time than I expected keeping the fire going. I'd had a hard time last week too. Historically, I'd always been master of the flame, but I can remember some specific times when I'd had trouble in the past. Once when camping with Kirk, and another just trying to get something going during the day with the kids. Also something I might need to practice at home.

Around 9PM my tummy was happy, and it felt like bed time. I wore the same puffy jacket, pants, and booties as last time, and I had the same pillow, but it was time to try out the new pad and bivvy.

Good night!

For the first few hours it was actually a little warmer than I wanted. I had to open the foot vent on the bivvy and un-velcro the top part so I could flop it over. But, after that, all was well. It was a lot darker that night, than the previous weekend. It was overcast-ish, the trees were a lot denser, and the canopy was closer to the ground. I think that actually helped me fall asleep.

As usual, I slept in 3 bouts, of a couple of hours each. When I woke up the second time, it was probably 4am or so, and just starting to get colder. I wasn't uncomfortable though, and after velcroing the bivvy back together, everything was great. Even on my side, the new pad was warm. I don't think it got into the 30's though, maybe mid-40's. Though, I really don't know for sure. Either way, I was totally comfortable, and pretty soon, I was asleep until daylight.

The next morning, the surrounding trees looked very, very fall.

Awesome. Some years, one thing or another happens, I don't make it up to the mountains for a few weeks, and I end up missing the leaves altogether. Not this year! I so love early fall too, when you get all the colors, including leftover green.

Potatoes for breakfast.

Hot chocolate too.

When my tummy was feeling happy again, I got packed up and hit the trail. It was probably 9:30 or so when I finally got rolling.

P6 was gorgeous.

I think it's my favorite section, honestly. Everybody likes P2, but I think P6 is just like a longer, taller P2. The climbing is more challenging, but I like that too.

Somewhere in there, my front brake pads wore just a little too thin and started screaming. Goodness. Nothing like screaming brakes to ruin a hunter's day. You wake up at 3am, drive out to the middle of nowhere, hike in in the dark, climb a tree, sit there freezing through the coldest part of the night, become familiar with every rock and tree as the light comes up, start to hear wildlife moving about, then "screeeeee! screeeeee! screeee!" some asshole like me rides through, scaring everything away along the full length of the trail.

Fortunately, the Dennis Mill Lot was empty. I hadn't actually ruined anyone's day. But, it was luck that I hadn't. By the same token, it was also luck that my brakes happened to wear down enough, just that morning. So, luck vs. luck, I guess.

The Dennis Mill Bridge was closed last year, and it looked like they hadn't done any work on it since.

The weather was nice out on the road. High 60's maybe, and warming up by the minute. No wind to speak of.

It usually takes me about an hour to start feeling really good on the bike, after camping, but that day, I'd felt pretty good after climbing the first little hill.

When I got to the Stallion store (or whatever it's called these days), I figured I'd take a photo of John's Used Appliances, instead of the gas station itself.

I've got like 10 photos of the gas station, but the used appliance lot next door is arguably more interesting.

I had plenty of water and food. I didn't actually need to stop at the gas station for any particular reason, so even though I'd reflexively pulled into the lot, I pretty quickly decided to just keep going.

Normally, I'd keep going north to CCC Camp Road and take that back to MGap, but I felt a little more ambitious that morning. It had been 10 years or more since I'd climbed Fort Mountain, and I kind-of felt like doing it again.

It was a little steep at first, but I had plenty of gear for it, and after a while, I felt pretty good. I specifically remembered that the last time I climbed it, during some Mulberry Gap event, I think, my tires felt like velcro on the road; like I was simulataneously sticking and unsticking velcro, all the way up the mountain. I don't know if it was the specific rubber those tires had been made out of, or the tread pattern, or if it had been hot and the asphalt was sticky, or what, but it was bad. Not so this time. I had a really good time of it.

When I got to the overlook, I stopped for a few minutes.

That's Tatum Lead there.

I'd camped down in that cove the night before.

When I passed the Tatum Lead Road sign, I took a photo to send to my Dad.

We both hate that one climb, and I figured he'd get a kick out of it.

As I bombed down toward P3, I saw a guy on a road bike up ahead on the left hand side of the road.

It was Mark Baldwin.

His response upon seeing me: "Seriously?"

I'd run into him, randomy, the last time I'd been up there, and it's happened before too. My friends and I tend to run into people we know, unexpectedly, 100+ miles from our houses. It's a bit of a joke between us. It does make some sense, we're all doing similar things and end up in similar places. This time, it was funny though, because he just happened to stop right there to mess with his seat. If he'd stopped 200 yards back on the road, I'd have never run into him.

See you next time, Mark.

Descending P3...

...I ran into a guy and a lady who were also descending. I think they were the only other mountain bikers I'd seen on the entire trip. But, it did strike me that I'd seen pretty much the full gamut of outdoor enthusiasts, during that particuar ride. I didn't see anybody fishing, but I think that's about it.

My brakes screamed again, all the way down P3, and once again I was glad to see that there wasn't anyone parked at the bottom, even in that new lot.

When I got back to MGap...

I took a wonderful shower, and talked to Kate at length about their recent TNGA ride. She, Andrew, and someone else who I forget now, rode from the border, back to Mulberry Gap, and it sounded like they experienced the full range of Adventure available on the route. She said they had a great time though, which was great to hear, considering I usually hear stories of how difficult a time someone had.

Seriously, pro tip. Splurge for the post-ride shower, if you're riding out of Mulberry. Total game changer. You feel totally human as you head back into civilization.

Speaking of which, there was an apple festival of some kind going on in Ellijay, so traffic was super slow through town, there was no available parking, and the restaurants were all at capacity.

I tried eating at Col. Poole's BBQ, but there was a line way out the door there. At the Valero, there were 3 church vans in the lot, and like 100 teenagers inside, all waiting in line to use the bathroom. I ended up eating in Jasper at some local chicken wings place. Lukes, maybe? It was busy, but not too busy, and it was pretty good. I'll eat there again, if the opportunity comes up.

When I got home and uploaded the route to Strava, I noticed that Jason Shearer had somehow done almost the exact same route over the previous two days. He and his crew had ridden out to Dennis Mill (or shuttled to it and rode back, not sure) on Saturday, then ridden out-and-back on P3 the next morning. They'd just been ahead of me both days. I didn't even know he was up there, and somehow didn't run into him on either the trails, or milling around the property.

Just my luck.

All-in-all, I had a really great ride, and a really great time camping. I didn't have any of the problems that I've had on any past overnight. The sleep setup worked great. I feel like, with a winter kit on under my puffy clothing, I might even be able to use that same setup down to the low 30's. I'll give that a try at home first though.

Next time, I think I'll expand my cooking horizons a bit.

Looking forward to it already.

Heritage Park

I went for a jog at Heritage Park again, the other day, and as I was walking down to the bathroom, I noticed this beautyberry growing next to the sidewalk.

Not sure how I never noticed it before, considering how many times I've been out there. The berries are theoretically edible, but I've never tried them. Maybe next time.

I had a reasonably good run, though I still feel beat-up after running. I do remember that that goes away. Sure wish it would.

This time, I ran all the way out to Ruff's Mill and back.

There's some muscle in my upper right thigh that I keep hurting, every time I run. A friend of mine showed it to me on a diagram. It's just this one little muscle, up there on its own. I guess it doesn't get much use cycling, and hiking is low enough impact not to hurt it. At the pizza place the other day, I was lamenting how I want to run more, but I have to actually give myself time to heal, and the universal response was: "Yeah, you're not 25 any more."

Heh. Yeah.

Bull Mountain

I've been wanting to do a little overnight bikepacking trip for months now, but all the rain we had this summer just really turned me off to the idea. Recently, though, it's been pretty dry, and this past weekend, it the forecast was 0% everywhere, both days.

Woohoo! Not going to pass up the opportunity.

Most of my gear has been lying on the bed in the guest room all summer, but Saturday morning, I spread it all out in the dining area. "That'll never fit" crossed my mind as I packed it all into my frame bags, but I always think that, and then it all fits, and it did again this time, like magic.

I grabbed some good camping food from my cabinet, threw it into the little sling that I used last time for such an outing, and hit the road. Lunch was an italian sandwich at Siracusa's. I usually just have a slice, but I figured I could use a few extra calories, so I splurged a bit. And, that was it. Bull Mountain was my destination. I'd been wanting to camp up there since an aborted attempt last spring.

When I arrived, there was another guy in the lot with a bunch of bags on his bike too. "Looks like we had the same idea." But, it turned out no, he was just lazy about taking them off. They were actually done riding and about to head home. We talked a bit, and it turned out they had a house or a cabin or something up near the TNGA route, and would watch riders come through every year.

Small world.

All summer, to beat the heat, I usually wear a cheap ass, super thin tri-kit with the chamois cut out of it, but it was a little cool - mid 70's, so I felt like wearing bib shorts and a jersey, as they are just a tad warmer. While getting dressed, it occurred to me that I might actually be able to fit all the food that I'd brought, including my cup and spoon, into the pockets of my jersey. If I could, then I wouldn't even need to carry that sling, which though it works, is definitely less comfortable than not carrying it. Hmm... Yes, it turned out that it all fit quite easily. Even my phone fit, and there was room for Clif Blocks.

I jumped around and rode around the lot a bit, and it was fine, no flopping around like a waist pack tends to.

Woo! Trimming the gear down.

Feeling good about that last minute adjustment, I hit the trail, headed west out of the lot.

The Bull-Jake Connector is a bit rough, but the junk in my pockets felt fine through all of it, and I only felt better about the decision.

There were a bunch of folks in the Bull lot. More than tend to park there. Two guys in cars had made a loop through the Jake Lot while I was there, only to leave. As I arrived in the Bull Lot, they had also just arrived, made a loop through that lot, and left. Not sure what they were looking for, but it looked like they hadn't found it yet.

The Bull Mountain Trail was dry and comfortable.

It was a weird cold-dry. I usually associate that level of dryness with extreme heat. If it's cold or even cool, there tend to be little wet spots everywhere that never quite evaporate. But, if the humidity is low for a while, which is rare in Georgia, then it gets really dry when it's cool. I guess it was one of those days.

I had a fine time climbing Bull. I was a little apprehensive setting out, as I haven't had the bike loaded in months. I used to just ride it around loaded everywhere, but I eventually realized that it was like only working out with heavy weight - it builds strength, but it's not so great for cardio or stamina. I eventually started riding my road bike more, and riding the mountain bike unloaded. I could keep my heart rate up, I wasn't just having to punch every hill, and my cardio, weight, and general fitness improved a good bit. I guess it's a bit like training for XC races by riding on the road. It's not immediately intuitive that it would help, but it really does. At any rate, I hadn't ridden the bike loaded since doing all of that, and I wondered if it would feel awkward and heavy. Turned out no. I didn't notice at all. I'm sure if I'd tried to ride hard, I'd notice the weight, but it didn't handle noticeably differently, and at the pace I was keeping, it just felt normal.

Obligatory pic at the truck:

The only trouble I had climbing, I'd have had no matter what. As I approached The Great Rift, I realized that there was a bit of a trail worn up the right side, that I could probably huck up onto and be able to actually ride, rather than have to walk like usual. I made it up the steep kick onto the trail, which I figured would be the difficult part, but no, right up near the top, there was a tree that I could barely make it around, and I ended up brushing the very end of my bar on it. This knocked me right over the edge, and I went crashing down into the rift. Fortunately, I was uninjured, and nothing broke, but I ended up having to walk after all.

I had an equally fine time shredding down Bear Hare as I'd had climbing Bull.

Again, the bike handled great, and the weight felt "normal".

Just after crossing Lance Creek, I ran into a couple out hiking. They were taking photos of the largest Garden Spider I'd ever seen. Isabel had recently shown me a huge one at her place, but this one was even larger than that. Its web stretched across the entire road, 30+ feet easily. None of us could really believe it.

From there, I climbed up through Booger Holler, and somewhere in there my butt felt like it was sticking to the seat. With every pedal stroke it would stick and unstick. Feeling around, I thought I'd gotten a hole in my pants that bare skin was poking through and sticking, but it turned out no. I'd apparently, somehow, gotten sap on my pants. Just one little dot of pine sap, and it was sticking and unsticking to my skin. I fiddled with it a bit, but I couldn't immediately make it any better, and it was absolutely maddening. I eventually picked a big maple leaf and stuck it to my butt, using the sap as adhesive. I hoped that it would stick more to either my butt or pants than the other, and provide a slippery barrier between the two sticky spots. I considered that I might actually have to use 2 leaves, one stuck to me, and the other to my pants, but it turned out that just the one was sufficient. The crinkly edges took a while to wear down, but even before they did, it was like night-and-day better. Eventually I didn't notice it any more. That evening, I just had a small circle of leaf still stuck to the sap spot. The rest of the leaf had disintegrated and the pieces had slid down my leg.

From there, I took 83 back around...

...to the Jones Creek Dam Trail...

...where it appears I set a PR, the only PR of the whole trip.

Then I crossed the dam...

...and climbed up to the switchbacks.

The last time I'd been up there, it was damp, I wasn't feeling so hot, and that climb was just miserable. This time, the whole thing felt easy and fun. It's amazing how different you can feel on the exact same trail, only a month or two apart.

Before getting to the switchbacks, I started feeling like I needed to eat, and realized that I'd forgotten to actually bring Clif Blocks. I'd determined that there was room for them, but apparently not actually stuffed them into my pockets. Great. I did have a bunch of little sausages, and hey, they count as calories, but I'd really have rather eaten blocks or bars or something more readily digestible. Hey, gotta run what you brung though, right?

Sausages it is.

They were a little spicy, but otherwise pretty good.

Obligatory ridge-from-switchbacks photo:

From there, I bombed down to Winding Stair, took it up to Turner's Creek and rode that. I skipped that sucky new trail and just climbed Little Bitch Gap on the road. Then I hit No-Tell and Montgomery Creek. The pipe gate at the southern end of Montgomery Creek had been painted blue since the last time I was there. It was open too, as it is now hunting season. I'm not sure if firearms started on October 1st or starts on the 15th (or some other day, but it usually starts on one or the other of those), but they open it for archery season too. I think I went through a second gate before crossing Montgomery Creek proper. If not then it was the next day, but either way, the gate was painted white. It made me wonder if they were "red, white, and blue", going counter-clockwise from Camp Merrill.

I also noticed lots of little side roads that I'd never seen before. Most led up the edge of a food plot, but some looked like old roads that had been cleared recently. They may all just go to camp sites, but I'll have to check them out next chance I get. You never know.

At Montgomery Creek, for like 20 years, there's been a channel beam on the left hand side, that you can walk across. Sometimes the rangers even put a little wooden bridge over it. Recent storms had washed it away though, and bent it all up too. It now lay all the way over on the right hand side of the road, trying hard to keep going downstream.

I'm not sure if it's salvageable or not, but I definitely couldn't use it to cross the creek. Fortunately the creek wasn't very high, and I managed to make it, only barely spashing one shoe. Later, it seemed like I hadn't even gotten my sock wet.

Somewhere around there, I started thinking about where to camp. It was about 6:30, I think, and I had about an hour to sunset. I had a head lamp, but it is nice to set up camp at dusk rather than in the dark, and I didn't really feel like fueling myself with sausages for the next few hours anyway. I was right at the entrance to Pen Cove, and I figured I could probably push up along Old Montgomery Creek Road until I either found a feeder creek that crossed the road, or made it to where the road itself crossed Montgomery Creek. There would likely be an established spot somewhere back in there.

It turned out that there was a good spot on a little spur, right where a little spring-fed feeder crossed the old road. Just what I was looking for.

It somehow didn't occur to me to get any photos of dinner and my sleeping arrangements, but I cooked a bunch of tortellini with tomato sauce. More than I could eat, as it would turn out. I ended up not eating any of the sausages, and the "Moon Cheese" that I'd brought just didn't taste good. Super salty and not very cheesy.

As there was a 0% chance of rain, I didn't bother setting up the tarp, just slept under the stars. Usually, when I'm camping, when I finally get in bed, I feel all relaxed and out-in-the-world, but I didn't this time. I had felt great around the fire, but not when I actually lay down. I even tried to do that "perpetual retrospect" thing, but it didn't help. It was like 9:30, but the forest was still kind-of noisy, and my eyes hadn't really adjusted to the dark yet. IDK, it just didn't have that same vibe that it usually does.

Still, I slept really well for like 3 hours. When I woke up, I immediately had that great relaxed, out in the world feeling that I usually had at the start of the night. The woods was a lot quieter, and I could see pretty well. The moon was full, but the trees kept it pretty well hidden. I guess all of that helped. I didn't even bother trying to go back to sleep right away.

I slept again for a few hours, only to wake up freezing. I was wearing a puffy jacket and puffy pants, sleeping on a Thermarest NeoAir, covered with a Sol Escape Lite bivvy that I'd slit open into a blanket. The puffy clothing and bivvy had worked great this time last year, and I'd taken the NeoAir instead of the other uninsulated pad that I have because I'd gotten a little cold with it. By rights, what I was running ought to have been enough. I couldn't see my breath, it couldn't be that cold... I pulled the edges of the bivvy-blanked under me, and after a while got warm enough and fell back asleep, only to wake up freezing again after a few more hours.

I knew it had been hours each time by the moon. I watched it march across the sky all night. It was so big and bright, you just couldn't miss it.

It took a while to get warm and get back to sleep again. I'm pretty sure I didn't get warmer though, rather it just got warmer outside eventually. That last time, I slept until about 8AM and woke up feeling fine. It didn't even feel cold. I discovered later that it had gotten down to 42 degrees in Atlanta. I'd bet that up in the mountains, down in a draw like I was, that it had gotten down into the high 30's. Looks like I need to reevaluate my sleep system, yet again.

I built a small fire, ate some mashed potatoes, and drank some hot chocolate.

Around then I realized I hadn't taken photos of actually camping.

This was my fire:

I slept here:

When I felt adequately awake, I headed back down, crossed the food plot...

...and finished out the Montgomery Creek Loop.

It goes without saying that I found a mylar baloon out there, but I'll go ahead and say it anyway.

It usually takes an hour or so to start feeling good on the bike, in the morning, after camping, and this time was no exception. On the upside, my riding clothes were actually comfortable. So often, they get soaked with sweat the day before, and don't dry out overnight. This time, it was cool enough, and also just not very humid, that they were dry before I took them off, and I was able to keep them down in the foot box of my bivvy-blanket all night. They were dry the next morning, and still dry as I rode. Mmm, comfortable clothes.

The gate at the northern end of Montgomery Creek had been painted red, so yes, they were red, white, and blue.

I headed back south from Montgomery Creek. I'd half entertained the idea of riding the Winding Stair Loop, or even Noontootla, but without blocks or bars, I'd be sustaining myself on sausages all day, and I had zero interest in that. As it was, I'd be riding 40 to 50 miles in total, and I figured that was a satisfying amount. It later turned out to be 41 miles, so on the low end, but still not too bad.

I picked up Black Branch across from No-Tell, and had a great time riding it.

I couldn't immediately tell if more logging had been done along FS28G, or not.

There was machinery out there though, which hadn't been there last time, so they are still cutting.

FS28B is often a slog at the end of a ride, but I actually started feeling really good as I climbed it.

I toyed with the idea of taking a right on Beaver Dam and looping back up 28B again before taking Jake back to the lot, but I was getting low on water, I'd used what ended up being the last of my iodine tablets the night before, and while I might drink directly out of a feeder way up Pen Cove that I can see the spring that produces it, I definitely wasn't going to drink directly out of anything in the general Jake area. So, no Beaver Dam for me.

Jake is great in either direction, but I especially like it heading north. It's just endless flow, all the way to Jones Creek.

I didn't worry about keeping my feet dry crossing, as I'd be back at the lot soon, and as luck would have it, the water wasn't as cold as I expected.

It was right about there though, that I realized that I needed to relieve myself, so I parked the bike, and walked about 100 yards back into the woods to get down to business. I hadn't seen a soul all day, but wouldn't you know it, somebody came riding by, right then. He saw my bike and yelled "Mark! Mark?" for a while before giving up and continuing on. I was too far away to tell who it was at the time, and it would have been too awkward to be like: "Not Mark, Dave, and I'm uhh... busy... at the moment." It's not likely he'd even have been able to see me through the brush, even if I had tried to get his attention.

It turned out later that it was a guy I know named Ed - Eddie Mercury on strava. In fact, I realized it was him when I saw where and when he'd ridden when I checked strava later. Ha!

He'd thought my bike was Mark Baldwin's, as they are the same color, so the "Mark!" that he was yelling was Mark Baldiwn. Once again, I drive 2 hours away from my house and run into someone I know, this time, yelling out the name of someone else I know. Gotta love it.

Oh, I almost forgot. When I got back on the bike, I realized I didn't have my gloves on, and it was quite a challenge to find the exact spot that I was crouched down at earlier. I did manage to find it though, and my gloves. I'm not so sure about my choice of gloves though. They're custom Mulberry Gap, Pinhoti-themed gloves - black, with little orange and green designs all over them. If I'd specifically tried to put together a color scheme that blends in better with the early fall colors, I couldn't have done a better job.

On the way back to the truck, I ran into 2 separate groups of hikers. I've seen more and more hikers and trail runners out there over the years. I don't think they're popular among hikers, per-se, but they are definitely adequate to be hiked, which is high praise for a horse trail.

When I finally got back to the lot, I was wide awake and kind-of felt like cranking out another 20 miles. I had stuff to do though, and figured I'd had a good enough time, no need to push my luck.

I popped the back hatch, grabbed the pile of street clothes that I'd thrown my camelback on top of, and realized that the bladder had leaked all over them. The bite valve has a little off switch, but it doesn't really work, and I'd managed to lay the bag on top of the valve, which it pushed slightly open. My clothes were completely soaked. Not just "a little damp" but absolutely sopping wet.

Goodness.

I ended up putting my regular shoes on and just driving back in my kit. When I got near the house, I was so hungry that I didn't bother changing out of it before grabbing lunch at the local pizza place.

I had apparently gotten quite cold the night before though. While I was riding, I didn't really notice it, but through the rest of the day, unless the heater was on, I felt chilly. I ended up putting my puffy jacket on at lunch, and it helped, but it didn't really solve the problem. The next day, I checked my temperature throughout the day, and it was in the 94's and 95's until late that evening. I feel like that's probably not good for you.

So, I had a reasonably satisfying time, but the camping part was less good than the riding part. That Thermarest pad is from like 2009, and it doesn't really stay inflated. It was great at the time, but I think it has an R-value of like 4. The modern equivalent has an R-value of 6.9, so I ordered one of those. Sol makes a new "thermal bivvy" with like double the R-value of the Escape-Lite, but made of similar, breathable material. So, I ordered one of those too. We'll see how they pack and perform. I'm going to try bringing different stuff to cook next time too. The tortellini is good, but I've been thinking about how to finagle fajitas of some kind. I've got some work to do on my bike too. The lower water bottle cage keeps coming loose. Some locktite might be in order. I also ordered more iodine tablets.

I was planning on heading over to see the folks this weekend, but a friend has a birthday party next week, during the week, so I may push it to next weekend. If I do, and if the weather holds, out, another overnight might just be in the cards.