Hiking Mt. Le Conte: Trip Report

In the first week of this fall, I completed my first backpacking trip in over five years. What got me out after all this time was the prospect of portfolio photographs of the beautiful fall weather in the Appalachian Mountains away from the crowds of motorists on the major lookouts.

I selected for my route the 9 mile out-and-back from Newfound Gap to Mt. Le Conte. A backcountry permit allowed me to sleep in the shelter at 6500 feet for just $4, and you can’t beat that.

Into my pack went a 20-degree sleeping bag, a Patagonia fleece, 5 sections of single layer foam padding, a stove, pot, fuel, 4 packs of ramen, 2 cans of tuna, 4 liters of water, a bug net, and some other bits and bobs.

For my camera, I took my trusty Olympus E-M1 Mark II with two lenses: the 12-45 F/4 and 40-150 F/4. Light, sharp, and weather sealed, they were exactly what the situation called for. With these two lenses, I had the whole focal length range from 24-300mm full-frame equivalent in a compact package. I also took along a monopod to help with stability in low light situations, as well as a 10mm macro tube and the OEM flash unit for the E-M1 Mark II.

All in all, a weigh-in the night before revealed that 1) my scale is reading about 15 pounds higher than it should and 2) my equipment weighed in at 25 pounds, including 6 pounds of camera equipment. I was very thankful I had gone with the Micro Four Thirds system at this time - the equivalent full frame setup from Nikon or Sony would weigh nearly twice as much.

Setting out

I woke up early to make it to Newfound gap by dawn. I set my alarm at 3:30 AM, downed some coffee and Grape Nuts, and hit the road for the 3-hour drive to the trailhead. Despite making some odd turns in the Cherokee reservation, I did end up on time. The internet forums had warned that this trail is challenging, but the immediate incline from the parking lot was a wake-up call to be more active and healthy.

For much of the early morning, I was snapping some pictures here and there, but the light was quite harsh to capture the autumn trail experience I wanted. More importantly, I was gasping for air, thirsty, and hungry. I had planned to take a break at the first trail junction about 3 miles in, and I stubbornly refused to rest until then.

The Jump Off

At this first trail junction, I got my first keeper from the trip. A small section of trail, leading to an official-unofficial lookout called The Jump Off, linked the Appalachian Trail that I had taken thus far to the Boulevard Trail that would carry me the rest of the way up Mt. Le Conte. The junction had a misty, ethereal mood that I crave, and almost seemed like a mythical place.

The Boulevard

“This is where the fun begins” - Anakin Skywalker

The start of the Boulevard Trail offered some downhill reprieve, but this wasn’t to last. Soon, the trail kicked in to high gear, gaining several hundred feet of elevation per mile for the remaining 5 miles. The effort was rewarded at every turn with stunning views on either side of the ridgeline that the Boulevard traced.

A snapshot off the north side of the Boulevard Trail.

By the time the final incline to Mt. Le Conte started, I was beat. Again, I was stubbornly refusing to take rest at anything but my predetermined sites. The mountain, however, did not rest. The trees grew more stunted as the elevation increased, but still covered the view to the peak - every crest of the hill could be the end, but each disappointed more than the last.

Here, at 6000 feet on a relatively small mountain in North Carolina, I was humbled by the ruthless, craggy trail. I continued to make progress, but it was dawning on me that I was truly unprepared for a hike like this. Every time I stopped to take a breather, the wind seemed to kick up and bring chills - a foreshadowing of the cold night ahead.

At long last, the sign for Myrtle Point came in to view. Although not the summit, it was in the network of half-mile or so trails on the massif surrounding the peak. I was close. Around here, I captured a shot of some shale rock through pine trees that I quite enjoyed.

Summit

Around 2:30 PM, I staggered in to the shelter site. I quickly dropped my pack, and sat down for a hearty meal of Maruchan Ramen and tuna - only to realize with dread that the tuna I had brought required a can opener. Ramen alone it was.

After some recuperation, I stowed my gear on the bear cables and began to explore the massif. I spent much of the afternoon at Cliff Tops, a rocky overlook with views to the northwest. Eagles, crows, and songbirds swirled around, and a crisp 60 degree afternoon settled in. Here, I captured a view of a small peak adjacent to Mt. Le Conte, by far my favorite shot of the trip.

It had been a long day thus far, mentally and physically. A nap was in order.

I took to the shelter, a small rock, wood, and sheet metal affair that slept twelve travelers in two hardwood bunks. After being joined by other hikers, and enjoying the chatter of trail stories, I dozed in an uneasy sleep on the hard bunks. Finally, I set out again at about 7 PM for Cliff Tops to take in the sunset. This time, I was joined by a large crowd of hikers from the nearby Le Conte Lodge, a veritable Ritz-Carlton compared to the shelter I slept in. I tried not to imagine the hot meal and bunks they were describing, and focused on capturing the gorgeous sunset.

With only a single Patagonia fleece, I was entirely unprepared for the drop in temperature as the sun went behind the distant hills. To make matters worse, I exposed the landscape completely wrong, leading to the poor image quality you can see below.

The rest of the night was frigid. Walking back to the shelter from Cliff Tops, I was almost afraid I was developing hypothermia. On top of the impregnable tuna cans, I had discovered that my dollar store trail bars were upsetting my stomach terribly. As such, I had basically no food except for two remaining packs of ramen - kept in reserve for the hike down.

Twenty-something degrees is a lot colder on an empty stomach and low morale. I finally shivered myself to sleep, comforted by the raucous snoring of the older hikers in the shelter, and dreamt of my toasty apartment back home.

The descent

A light dusting of frost covered my pack when I retrieved it in the morning, and the trail bars were frozen solid. I made some instant coffee to cheer myself, and settled in for a tough hike down on a very much empty stomach. At this point, my motivation to take photographs was pretty much spent. I had undertaken this hike imagining I would be pulling out my camera at every turn, capturing the tiny adventure I was on. Instead, I spent nearly all of the hike down, and a great majority of the ascent, focused on making it up the next hill, or navigating a steep descent on tired legs.

Final thoughts

Well, there you have it. I bit off about as much as I can chew, but some good images came out of it. More importantly, I learned quite a lot about doing good photography when the conditions are less than perfect - tired, hungry, and cold.