American Alpine Project
Ascending America's Highest Peaks to Raise Spirits Around the Globe
Black Mountain, Kentucky
Black Mountain, KY
Elevation: 4,139 ft.
Summit Attained: 4:30 p.m., 2/17/07
You need a permit to climb Black Mountain. It can be mailed or faxed. There is no real confirmation. Once it is in the mail (or the fax,) you're all set. The mining company just wants it on file as a legal formality. Here is the link to download the permit: http://americasroof.com/ky-release.html
After a long but scenic drive from Georgia to western Virginia, Jason and I arrived in the tiny town of Appalachia, which looked more like something you would find in the old west, minus the forested eastern mountains that completely surrounded the town. A few miles farther brought us to an even smaller settlement, basically a collection of miniature houses on one side of the road and a little church on the other.
Here we began to see the remnants of an enormous coal mining heritage. A giant set of long-abandoned feeds came into view. Bulldozers and dumptrucks were parked at regular intervals along the side of the road. Steep dirt paths led randomly up the mountainside, clearly accessible only to powerful construction vehicles. The mountains had been sheared completely away in most places, leaving behind hundreds of feet of stratified rock.
As we continued on Rt. 160 up into the mountains, the extent of the mining became evident. This place was a wasteland. Miles and miles of hills and mountains had been stripped for every ounce of precious coal. Jason remarked that it looked like a man-made version of Glacier National Park. Rt. 160 wound up and around the damaged cliffs as it gained what seemed to be several thousand feet of elevation. In many places there were no guardrails, and edge of the road dropped a thousand feet into the scarred gorge below. On the uphill side of the car were ice waterfalls, and Jason and I got out at one point and free-climbed part of the way up the frozen cliffs with our axes.
At an 180 degree turn high up on of what turned out to Black Mountain, we came to a bullet-riddled sign welcoming us to Kentucky. To our left was an FAA radar sign next to a snow-covered road that lead through a gate. We downshifted and headed up the slick road towards the Black Mountain summit. Even here there were dozers and backhoes littering the sides of the narrow trail.
After several miles, we came to an enormous geodesic structure that looked like the radar facility. A hundred yards later, we came to a fork in the road. Straight ahead, the trail began a gradual descent down the mountain. To our left was a smaller path that passed through a black metal gate. We parked the car and geared up for the short hike to the top, grabbing our ice axes as a means of defense against any black bears we might encounter.
The path led gradually upwards for about a hundred yards to a large clearing. There were a few electrical utility sheds surrounded by barbed-wire fences, and several tall thin structures that looked like radio towers. In the center on the clearing was a shorter observation tower. The first few flights of steps had collapsed, but Jason shimmied his way up the side to the first intact landing and climbed the steps to the top while I searched for the USGS marker. After posing for a few photos, Jason came down to help with the search, which proved fruitless.
We stayed for about fifteen minutes before returning to the car and departing for Mt. Rogers Virginia. It had just begun to snow. Little did we realize that these were the first flakes of a storm that would quickly debilitate western Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, thwarting our efforts to get to the remaining highpoints.
As we left the Black Mountain, KY area, we reflected on the mining operations that sustained its inhabitants. Sadly, it was obvious that the excessive operations had depleted the local supply of coal to the point where the town was struggling to survive, and the landscape had been irreversibly scarred, giving the area had a sort of post-apocalyptic feel. Nevertheless, Black Mountain was definitely the most interesting highpoint either of us had done, in that it revealed so much about an aspect of American life that few people ever get a chance to witness. We drove away back through the Appalachia, VA area in silence as we stared out the windows at a lifestyle that seemed to be caught in another time, its inhabitants somehow separated from the almost every aspect of modern life. It was a very strange place.
Elevation: 4,139 ft.
Summit Attained: 4:30 p.m., 2/17/07
You need a permit to climb Black Mountain. It can be mailed or faxed. There is no real confirmation. Once it is in the mail (or the fax,) you're all set. The mining company just wants it on file as a legal formality. Here is the link to download the permit: http://americasroof.com/ky-release.html
After a long but scenic drive from Georgia to western Virginia, Jason and I arrived in the tiny town of Appalachia, which looked more like something you would find in the old west, minus the forested eastern mountains that completely surrounded the town. A few miles farther brought us to an even smaller settlement, basically a collection of miniature houses on one side of the road and a little church on the other.
Here we began to see the remnants of an enormous coal mining heritage. A giant set of long-abandoned feeds came into view. Bulldozers and dumptrucks were parked at regular intervals along the side of the road. Steep dirt paths led randomly up the mountainside, clearly accessible only to powerful construction vehicles. The mountains had been sheared completely away in most places, leaving behind hundreds of feet of stratified rock.
As we continued on Rt. 160 up into the mountains, the extent of the mining became evident. This place was a wasteland. Miles and miles of hills and mountains had been stripped for every ounce of precious coal. Jason remarked that it looked like a man-made version of Glacier National Park. Rt. 160 wound up and around the damaged cliffs as it gained what seemed to be several thousand feet of elevation. In many places there were no guardrails, and edge of the road dropped a thousand feet into the scarred gorge below. On the uphill side of the car were ice waterfalls, and Jason and I got out at one point and free-climbed part of the way up the frozen cliffs with our axes.
At an 180 degree turn high up on of what turned out to Black Mountain, we came to a bullet-riddled sign welcoming us to Kentucky. To our left was an FAA radar sign next to a snow-covered road that lead through a gate. We downshifted and headed up the slick road towards the Black Mountain summit. Even here there were dozers and backhoes littering the sides of the narrow trail.
After several miles, we came to an enormous geodesic structure that looked like the radar facility. A hundred yards later, we came to a fork in the road. Straight ahead, the trail began a gradual descent down the mountain. To our left was a smaller path that passed through a black metal gate. We parked the car and geared up for the short hike to the top, grabbing our ice axes as a means of defense against any black bears we might encounter.
The path led gradually upwards for about a hundred yards to a large clearing. There were a few electrical utility sheds surrounded by barbed-wire fences, and several tall thin structures that looked like radio towers. In the center on the clearing was a shorter observation tower. The first few flights of steps had collapsed, but Jason shimmied his way up the side to the first intact landing and climbed the steps to the top while I searched for the USGS marker. After posing for a few photos, Jason came down to help with the search, which proved fruitless.
We stayed for about fifteen minutes before returning to the car and departing for Mt. Rogers Virginia. It had just begun to snow. Little did we realize that these were the first flakes of a storm that would quickly debilitate western Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, thwarting our efforts to get to the remaining highpoints.
As we left the Black Mountain, KY area, we reflected on the mining operations that sustained its inhabitants. Sadly, it was obvious that the excessive operations had depleted the local supply of coal to the point where the town was struggling to survive, and the landscape had been irreversibly scarred, giving the area had a sort of post-apocalyptic feel. Nevertheless, Black Mountain was definitely the most interesting highpoint either of us had done, in that it revealed so much about an aspect of American life that few people ever get a chance to witness. We drove away back through the Appalachia, VA area in silence as we stared out the windows at a lifestyle that seemed to be caught in another time, its inhabitants somehow separated from the almost every aspect of modern life. It was a very strange place.
