Last week I took a big, heavy Mystery Ranch NICE 6500 pack. I loaded it to the gills with everything I like to have. Saw, hatchet, Slinglight chair, white gas stove, etc. I also carried great but heavy food (steak, potatoes, cooking oil, bacon, eggs, etc.). The food load alone made the pack burdensome. On that trip I hated the short hike, but I loved the camping.
On Tuesday, I hit the trail again from the same location at Big Fat Gap. This time I carried the Arc’teryx Altra 65 loaded out at 26 lbs. total!
I carried only the basics. Hammock, cuben fiber tarp, top quilt, a small pot for boiling water, hyper flow water filter, canister stove, rain gear, fire starter, tooth brush and toilet paper. My only food was homemade dehydrated chili and fiber bars.
I went with the idea that I was going to climb the Slickrock Creek trail to Naked Ground. I had a singular focus.
Arriving at Big Fat at midnight, I elected to sleep in the car until daylight. I woke up at 7:00 AM and was ready to hit the trail at 7:50.
Taking a brisk downhill pace with the lightweight pack I easily sailed down the Big Fat Gap trail to Slickrock Creek. The wood thrush was singing his morning song. I arrived at Slickrock Creek by 9:00 AM.
I took a break for half an hour. I debated about spending the night at the campsite I call "Bass Solo,” but was eager to put trail miles behind me. I elected to push on up Slickrock Creek.
A few years ago my buddy and I had done this trail coming DOWN. There was another campsite on up the creek we had named “Stop Time.” It got that name because when we had descended we started from Bob Bald, down through Naked Ground, and onto the Slickrock Creek trail. By the time we reached the first campsite we came to we were ready to stop. I had remembered it being much lower and closer to camp Bass Solo than it turned out to be when climbing. My recollection was off. BY A LOT!
Thinking I could reach Stop Time in about an hour I hit the trail.
There was a point where the trail crossed what I believe to be, Hangover Creek. I missed it at first. The trail appeared to continue straight ahead and I discovered another campsite I had not seen before. Beyond this spot, the trail became indistinct and I wasted a good hour trying to find the trail. While wandering about I stirred up a bunch of Yellow Jackets, those ground dwelling bees/wasps with the nasty disposition. They stung me three times on the left elbow and arm, and once right through my pants on my left buttock. It did look like a nice campsite to keep in mind for the future.
I decided to go back and try to find the trail. It’s funny how seeing things from the other direction can all of a sudden seem so clear. I immediately recognized that the trail actually crossed this small branch. It wasn’t really much of a creek and could be crossed dry shod without having to switch shoes. Once across, there was a short climb and I came upon yet another campsite.
Just past this campsite, I could see a tent back in a cove behind the foliage. I only caught a glimpse. It was grey and looked as though it might be a cuben fiber tent similar to Zpacks.
I assumed the trail was going to wind around to it but I never saw it again. Apparently, whoever was camped there had bushwhacked off trail and was trying to remain unseen. I kept pushing on up the trail.
I had already gone longer than I had expected to reach Stop Time camp.
Along the way, I came upon, and immediately recognized, the downed Hemlock trunk where Tipi Walter had encountered the timber rattler on his trip last month.
The snake was gone of course, but it struck me funny that I would recognize the same tree.
I could see evidence of Tipi’s handiwork all along the trail.
When I reached this double log bridge I remembered it from my previous trip down this trail. I got excited because I believed Stop Time was going to be just around the bend and not far at all.
It turned out to be much farther.
Eventually, after five hours (from the bottom of Big Fat Gap trail intersection) I reached Stop Time camp. It was all overgrown with weeds.
This camp sits back off the trail and is hidden. That’s probably why it has become overgrown.
I elected to string up my hammock right there beside the trail in front of the Stop Time campsite.
It’s weird how you see certain things and remember them from a trip 3 or 4 years ago. I saw these four rocks obviously configured on the ground. They had been there, exactly the way I found them all that time, undisturbed by anyone else.
Packed up and ready to push on up to Naked Ground 8:30 AM…..
Above the Stop Time camp is where the Slickrock Creek trail starts to get tough.
Tim Holman’s book describes it as a “calf buster.” Tipi Walter has made the trail better known as the nut buster.
It’s both.
It is a long, grueling grind. The switchbacks have you going in all directions. You can hike for an hour and a GPS says you are farther away from your destination than you were before.
As mentioned, there was ample evidence of Tipi’s trail work. There were also sections where more work is needed. There was a section which is badly overgrown with briars.
Somebody needs to take a Keyser blade to it. “I call it a Keyser blade. Some people call it a sling blade. Mmm, I like me some biscuits and mustard. ‘Ems some good fried potaters.”
I finally reached Naked Ground at 1:00 PM.
The buckeye trees were a welcome sight. I stopped for a pack off break. Ate some lunch and got a phone call out to my friend.
I hadn’t at this point decided exactly what I would do. There was a possibility that I might camp on my way back to Big Fat Gap via the Hangover Lead trail. I slung pack and shoved off again.
Having just climbed the nut buster my legs were tired, my butt was tired, my feet were sore. But I pushed on.
I had hiked the Hangover Lead before. I remembered it dropping right off the front of the actual Hangover look-out point. Now, there is a new sign indicating Hangover Lead and Benton MacKaye which is back from the actual Hangover. It drops off on the left side of a smaller finger spur, winds around through a laurel thicket, switches back, and eventually ends up on the real Hangover Lead. THIS IS A TERRIBLE SECTION!
Unless something is done to make it more obvious I’ll predict that a lesser experienced hiker will become lost here. There is a rock outcrop where a misdirected route seems more obvious than the actual trail. It kind of fizzles out and becomes more of a game trail. While trying to negotiate my way through, the trail seemingly had disintegrated, I stopped and said out loud to myself, “There is no way this can be the Benton MacKaye trail!”
I fought to backtrack. Wasn’t even sure I could follow the path I had taken, but did manage to get back to the rock and find the correct path.
Looking back toward the Bob.
Looking over at Fodderstack Ridge.
Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker hasn’t got anything on the Slickrock Creek trail.
But having hiked up the nut buster and down the Hangover Lead trails all in one day, it is my opinion that the Hangover Lead is just as tough as the nut buster.
I have no desire to do either one again soon.