So a few years back I decided I wanted to head up into the area around Linville Gorge to scout for deer season. This was during the summer and that area has some wild trout streams so I loaded up my pack and went out for an overnight trip. Things were going great until about an hour into my hike. I started to descend toward the stream I wanted to fish and it was starting to get steep. I looked at the topo again and the brush wasn't too thick so I decided to keep going. About halfway down I knew I had screwed up. I started to get into the laurels and it was too steep to just turn around. I continued descending, half stepping and half baseball sliding down, convinced I was going to fall into a rattlesnake pit with each cave I passed. I finally made it to the stream where I realized that my fishing rod had gotten caught on something on the way down and broken. Didnt matter because the stream wasn't fishable where I was at. I did, however, have a very nice rock to sit on and dangle my feet in the water, trying to avoid what I knew was going to be an utterly miserable climb up the other side. My only hope was that the laurels weren't that bad. Well...they were worse than what I descended through. I inched my way up the opposing hillside, sometimes on all fours. Suddenly, the laurels gave way and I found myself in a berry patch. I was soon begging for the laurels again as I literally had to pull my leg out with my arms for each step through this tangled mess. Step by step I climbed until I finally cleared the brush and the woods were open again. At the top of the ridge was a trail and I made it up just in time to make camp and eat supper in the last bit of daylight. I checked my GPS track and over the course of 8+ hours I had covered around 3 miles. Never went up there during deer season.
