A week earlier at this same junction, I spent the night under this overpass. I watched my thermometer dropping from 32F in a storm of wintry mix. As I gained elevation the road conditions worsened. Traction control light blinking, able to romp on the gas and lose footing, just hoping to make it to Mount Mitchell to setup camp for the night. When I reached the onramp to the Blue Ridge, my stomach sank, the road was blocked off, closed due to the storm. As I stared at the closed gate, I felt the strange sensation of moving backwards. I was on black ice. It was 24F degrees. I tested my traction in drive and reverse, hit the brakes and my car went sideways. I made the decision to setup camp underneath the bridge which would at least give me some level of protection. Whipped out my one person bivy sack, snow pants, coat, sleeping back and wedged myself right next to the wall. I woke up to the sound of the salt truck de-icing the roads the next morning around 6am, started the car, and abandoned plans for the multi-peak hike across the tallest east coast mountains in the black mountain range. This photo was taken a week later on December 4th, where I successfully hiked a handful of the peaks I wanted to conquer.
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