Pilot Mountain State Park, NC (United States)

“Watch for falling bombs!” is what the sign should have read as we were pulling into the campground. While we were a tad early for fall foliage, giant acorns from chestnut oaks were dropping all around with resounding thunks. A helmet wouldn’t have gone amiss… especially when a direct hit to my thigh hurt like a paintball at point blank range, complete with a yellowing bruise.

We were in Pilot Mountain State Park, one of my favorites out of the forty-some lovely state parks of North Carolina.  The park is located on the western end of an ancient, isolated range called the Sauratown Mountains, which rise sharply above the surrounding terrain.  Pilot Mountain itself was a landmark for Native Americans and pioneers. Today the peak - a white hump of quartzite capped with greenery - makes for a spectacular view, even from the highway (US Route 52).

The Jomeokee trail, looping around the peak, is a very popular one with easy access from the picnic areas and parking lot. A sign informed day-trippers driving in that the waiting time for a parking spot up top was at least 30 minutes long! The trail is a little technical, but short at a scant 0.8 miles. It rounds the dramatic rock faces of Big Pinnacle, and turkey vultures circled effortlessly in the blue skies above. More strenuous is the Ledge Spring Trail following along the rocky cliff. A fine afternoon meant the trail was fair littered with climbers and their gear – everyone from Boy Scouts to a sorority reunion seemed to be trying their hands (and feet) at it.     

Roads less taken included the Mountain and Grassy Ridge Trails, ascending and traversing the mountain. Yellow wingstems were in full flower along the sunnier patches of the upper Mountain Trail, and sprawling stands of pokeweed with their hot-pink stems and deep purple berries made for striking contrasts in the shadier parts. Grassy Ridge deserves its name. The same weeds we mow in our sad excuse for a lawn back home were growing in riotous green splendor on the forest floor, producing a rather restive feel under the canopy. Grassy Ridge is also a bridle trail, though most of the evidence we saw were riders at the junction heading down the longer corridor trail to the river.  This actually put us more at ease, as our dog has a tendency to bark at horses and, even more unsettling, a penchant for their poop!

Ocracoke and the Outer Banks, NC (United States)

Growing up in the landlocked Midwest, the idea that you could get to the ocean in anything less than the grueling 16+ hour trips of my childhood spent in the back of a 15-seater van was a revelation. Where we live in the Triangle means the beach is an easy weekend away or even a day trip... ok, it's a far cry from our 25-minute walk to Barceloneta in Europe, but for most Americans, this is a relatively short distance. Our first year we also discovered that tacking on a few more hours would get us to a really special place: the Outer Banks.

The Outer Banks are a 200-mile chain of narrow barrier islands that outline the coast of North Carolina. They are a popular destination on the east coast. Maybe you've even seen the bumper stickers "OBX"? Many families or friends book beach houses for annual reunions... even humorist David Sedaris has written about it! Nowadays we feel like a house can be quite reasonable when split between a bunch of people. But imagine our delight back when, as broke students, we discovered you could camp for $12 a night!

It seems like everyone who goes to the Outer Banks has a favorite island. We've been going to Ocracoke (pronounced "oh-kra" like the vegetable and "coke" like the cola) for over a decade. It is reachable only by ferry, either from the mainland across the Pamlico Sound or from Hatteras Island, just to the north. The pirate Blackbeard used to ply these waters and frequently anchored in Ocracoke inlet. The place was isolated for so long that you can still hear a touch of the "high tide" accent (pronounced "hoy toyed" in the native brogue) among locals. There is a small museum as well as a British cemetery, where sailors from a British vessel sunk by a German sub during World War II rest in foreign soil. To guide passing mariners, nearly every island on the Outer Banks boasts a lighthouse, usually painted in a distinctive black-and-white pattern, but Ocracoke's, in a simple, solid white, is the oldest in operation.

Apart from the village, the rest of the island is dominated by the Cape Hatteras National Seashore. Its campground is where you can pitch a tent with nothing but a sand dune between you and a glorious expanse of - what is for all practical purposes - a private beach. The sea oats wave golden against the bright blue sky... and they help stop erosion. Funny little sanderlings and sandpipers run along the edge of the surf, and small, roped sections of the beach show where loggerhead turtles have laid eggs. We usually bring our assortment of toys: books, frisbee, volleyball, a stunt kite from local shop Kitty Hawk Kites, and bodyboard (Cape Hatteras itself is popular with the surfers). On clear nights, the stargazing is incredible with the luminous Milky Way stretching across the sky, and on the ground, the highly entertaining ghost crabs scurry in and out of their burrows in the sand, much to our dog's delight. A few days of this life makes for a relaxing way to wrap up the summer!

Linville Gorge and the Blue Ridge Parkway, NC (United States)

North Carolina offers a multitude of options for connecting with the great outdoors, and many a weekend of our previous lives here saw us tramping, as the Kiwis call it, the length and breadth it. As we've been back in the States over a year now (!), it seems high time we revisit some of our favorite spots.

The old mountain chain that runs down along the east coast of the U.S. are the Appalachians (pronounced "a-puh-LATCH-uhns" for the yankees or foreigners out there), and the western part of North Carolina is in the section aptly named the Blue Ridge Mountains. People from around the country visit, making the 400+ mile stretch of scenic highway known as the Blue Ridge Parkway the most visited unit of the entire National Parks System annually. Highway is a bit of misnomer in the usual sense. The speed limit is often around 35 miles per hour and even that will slow to a crawl with traffic during the fall foliage season. The many overlooks do offer gorgeous misty blue views, and the winding road makes it very popular with motorcyclists as well. 

Just off the parkway, the Linville Gorge Wilderness Area lies inside the Pisgah National Forest. The Linville River winds through old growth forest before plunging as a series of waterfalls: an upper twin set flowing into a curving small gorge, then dropping again another 45 feet to the pool below. The trails around and overlooking the plunge basin are relatively easygoing, and recent heavy rains only further improved the whitewater effect. The river continues on with much more technical hikes along the upper ridge of the Linville Gorge proper and steeply descending the 1400 feet to the river below. Topographical maps and compass - and the ability to use them - are highly recommended as not much may be marked beyond the trailheads in this dense forest. There also be bears. Black bears, to be specific. We didn't see any, which was probably a good thing, as Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods has given me a few too many wayward thoughts along those lines... and we didn't have the recommended bells on. There was a colorful array of mushrooms in the undergrowth of this hardwood and pine forest. Unfortunately, the wet conditions that produce such fungi and the gushing falls had a downside. The low-lying rain clouds obscured views across the gorge and even sometimes a few feet in front of our faces. Hours of hiking on slick trails also made for a little unpleasantness, particularly when I succumbed to the inevitable belly flop in the mud in my typical bumbling style. The good news was we discovered our new rain jackets passed the downpour test!       

   

Abel Tasman National Park (New Zealand)

Abel Tasman National Park, smallish by this country's standards, is located on the north coast on the South Island. We were there to hike the Coast Track, which has been designated one of New Zealand's 8 Great Walks. The entire track can be done in 3 – 5 days for backcountry hikers. Water taxis at several points and a bus at one end make it very accessible, and therefore, also popular with day visitors. The well-maintained trail itself is not very strenuous or technical. Marshes lead upward to the native bush of scrub land and rainforest. Secluded waterfalls and majestic tree ferns delight the eyes and add more beauty to the landscape. Isolated, golden sand beaches meet turquoise waters and white granite outcroppings. In summer, we've heard it can feel like a traffic jam on the track, but in the winter, we practically had it all to ourselves. Seeing half a dozen other hikers on the trail one day felt busy, and another night we were alone in a hut that sleeps 32 people. The huts are reserved through the Department of Conservation (or DOC), and though pricier than we're used to in North Carolina, they all had thick mattresses, wood stoves, and the hallmark of civilization – flush toilets with seats and toilet paper!

The one factor that does make the Abel Tasman Coast Track challenging is the tides. There are several spots along the trail where you need to cross tidal streams or estuaries. This involves a lot of head-scratching as you compare tidal charts, sunrise and sunset times, the estimation of your own speed (laden with your pack), and how deep you're willing to wade in chilly, often fast-flowing waters. At one point, several groups of hikers were sitting around for over an hour on a sandfly-infested beach waiting to cross a 3 meter stream. Eventually, boots came off and everyone rolled up their pants in their impatience to keep going. Further complicating these issues, we found the DOC estimates for completing a trail section to be, shall we say, ambitious… to the point where we started referring to them as “in New Zealand time” (= it will take us 1.5 times longer).

We did see a wide array of New Zealand fauna as well. Coastal birds like oyster catchers, cormorants, and ducks made regular appearances in Abel Tasman. Our favorite little birdies though were the fantails, which flit around picking up insects in the soil disturbed by our passage and flashing their white fan-like tails. The waters around Abel Tasman are part of the Tonga Island Marine Reserve so we got to check out some seals and blue penguins from our water taxi on the way back. The 3.5 days we spent in Abel Tasman National Park was a real change from the rest of our trip, and we really enjoyed this gorgeous corner of the country!

Ribes de Freser and Vall de Núria (Spain)

After eighteen months of quietly pining in storage, our tent was finally let out to play. Two hours from Barcelona on the regional train brought us to Ribes de Freser, where we caught the rack railway for a very expensive half hour ride. The destination was Vall de Núria in the Pyrenees Mountains on the French border... and by "on the border," I mean that you could get to France by foot in under 2 hours.

Vall de Núria is a mountain resort with extensive trails in the summer and ski runs in the winter. The valley also has a sanctuary (the original reason for its settlement) and posh hotel (so you can hike in style). As mentioned, we set up camp instead. At about 2000 m (~ 6600 ft) above sea level, the drop in temperature from still balmy Barcelona did come as a little shock. In the evening, we were layering under our winter coats and glad of low temperature-rated sleeping bags. Unfortunately, Pepper was less prepared, and all night we took turns re-tucking her in to stop her shivering.

The days, however, were quite fine. Perfect autumn weather actually. The mountains were some of the most beautiful we've been in. It was easy to see why so many people raved about the area - one couple we know even named their daughter Núria after the valley. The hiking was pretty technical, even on the flats, which explains the profusion of trekking poles we saw. Being above the treeline made for some incredible views, and it was hard to get "Climb Every Mountain" out of my head. I half expected to see a singing nun over each new rise. The gorge was dotted with pretty little waterfalls, and the quaint highland meadow made us feel like we had accidentally wandered onto the packaging of some Alpine cheese.

We're looking forward to going back!