It seemed that for all the incredible views I saw (the Hump, Beauty Spot, Mount Rogers) I paid for it before or after by getting stuck in really nasty storms on the highest point around. Essentially, if you get stuck in a storm, just hunker down and ride it out. Some people who had Thermarests pulled them out and sat on them while in a the middle of the storm for insulation. I carried a Tracks walking staff, which has metal in it. I made sure that it was away from me an laying flat on the ground whenever I got caught in a storm. The key thing is to make yourself as small as you can, and try not to be crossing a bald or open area if you can plan ahead. Try to crouch into a small ball and not be taller than other things around you. You must remain calm and keep a clear head! This is probably the hardest thing to do, given all the thunder, hail, and flashes of light going on around you. While in a storm, I found it useful to sort of "Zen" with the storm, ie, flow with the energy, as it helps to take your mind off what you are hearing and seeing around you and also helps you to resist the urge to get up and flee as fast as you can.
I and a partner got caught just before Big Bald in North Carolina in an awful storm where we both saw big blue balls of lightning literally explode in the hollow next to us. Upon that, we stopped and began to set up her tent in the middle of lightning striking all around us (we were screaming at each other so we could be heard over the thunder--I kept thinking the lightning was going to hit one of the tent wands at any moment as we were setting up). All night long the storm went on around us with me and her and her dog in a leaking tent. One of my worst nights on the trail--but the payback was the incredible view from the Bald the next morning of the clouds below clearing out--a sight I'll never forget. One hiker crossed the Bald during the storm--his entry in the Irwin hostel, was, shall we say, interesting to read. (I believe he mentioned he was sure at one point his hair was standing up rather smartly.)
The next really bad storm was just below Whitetop, just before Mount Rogers. We had crossed US 58, and could hear thunder rumbling (this was about 10:30 in the morning). The air was still and thick. We got to the little stream past VA 601 and the white house with the porch--we could see a really dark cloud coming across the valley. I started up the grade on the side there, and then I heard a sound like a huge whooshing freight train coming across the valley. I knew what was happening--I dropped my pack as fast as I could, pulled my raingear on, and then about a minute later it hit. For the next half hour my one thought was "At least I'm not in Florida--more people die of lightning strikes there than anyplace else". First came the hail for about 5 minutes--real fun. Then came the lightning strikes all around. BAM! WHAM! BAM! so fast and furious you really thought the end was at hand. Finally, it was over. I continued on up to the bald on Whitetop, and once again was reward with an awesome scene of the clouds clearing out---really, really striking scene as viewed from the top of Whitetop.
One of the interesting things I noticed as time went by was that I could literally "taste" a storm coming in hours before it arrived. As the days grew warmer from Central Virginia northward, little afternoon storms began to pop up. In Pennsylvania, I noticed while hiking along I could taste and smell what seemed to me to be chlorine in the air. It smelled very much like a swimming pool. I kept thinking that I'd see this nice cool swimming pool at any moment that I could take a quick dip in. But I was always disappointed; however, I did notice that generally five or more hours later, things cooled off pretty quick after a thunderstorm came through. After I was off the Trail, I mentioned to someone this chlorine type "taste" I would get, and they suggested that what might have been occurring was that I was sensing the ions in a cloud building up for the storm that was coming. What I was probably tasting or smelling was ozone. I don't know if this is scientifically valid or not, but it does seem to make some sense to me.
I have other stories on lightning (Catfish tower in NJ and three hikers under the picnic table), but I think you get the idea. Lightning for me was an experience in learning how insignificant I was in Nature's eyes. I have always been terrified of lightning--I had some really scary experiences as a kid. I think one of things I came away with from hiking the AT was seeing how I could deal with really scary (to me) situations such as these. It really makes you think about things when you are on the highest point around in the middle of an intense storm, and there isn't a doggone thing you can do about it except ride it out.
Marshall
"Tarkus"
mdb@radix.net
To my Appalachian Trail pictures
page
Hike over to the
Appalachian Trail home page
Hike over to Wingfoot's Trailplace
page
Hike over to the Appalachian Long
Distance Hikers Association (ALDHA) home page