Running the Art Loeb — Valhalla Hikes

The Night Before

We pulled up to the Davidson River parking area around 11:00 Tuesday evening in an eerie stillness that only appears in Appalachia before one of our signature Summer storms rolls through. Once the sky opened up the sound of the rain crashing against my van’s roof lulled me into a deep but brief sleep. I had exciting and intense dreams between the four or five times I woke up that night all the while checking my phone for that 5:15 rise time. I was starting a project I’ve been wanting to tackle since I started backpacking: an end-to-end run of the Art Loeb.

The Art Loeb is a 30.1-mile backcountry roller coaster that traverses Pisgah National Forest from Davidson River near Brevard to Camp Daniel Boone on the Canton side of the Blue Ridge Parkway. This track offers over 9,000 feet of gain and some very powerful memories as the first backpacking trip I’d ever taken. I remember how beaten up my legs felt back in 2018 after tackling two-thirds of this trail on my first day with heavy gear and not enough food. I also distinctly remember my conversation with search and rescue after getting trapped in a thunderstorm that night and sleeping inside a fallen tree, but you can read about that experience here.

The Rainy Start

Enjoying breakfast in the van moments before starting

5:15 came and I immediately stepped out into the rain. I wanted to be completely submerged in the element I was about to subject myself to and not waste any time, speed, or energy staying dry on what was determined to be a very wet morning. Breakfast was super seed oatmeal and some electrolyte fluid, and I’m glad I threw back as much of it as I did because little did I know it would be all the solid food I could manage for the day.

I stepped out by the Davidson and stared at my watch until it hit 6:00. Go Time.

It took until I was atop that first set of steep hills to get my legs underneath me. Those 500 feet in under a mile always make for quite the warm-up, but I managed to maintain an average of 4 miles an hour for the whole first section of trail. The Art Loeb can be understood in three distinct sections: the backcountry run through lower Pisgah, the climb up to the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the Shining Rock traverse. All three are distinctive and have a unique feel on the feet, and it works out well that all three can be separated by road crossings where my support was waiting.

I crossed beyond Butter Gap shelter, my usual stop point when I guide this hike as a three-day intro to backpacking trip (inquire here for a guided trip) in two hours and two minutes. I couldn’t believe the progress I was making. The trail rises steeply out of Butter Gap before dropping into Gloucester Gap where my new friend Brendon was waiting with support.

The Climb Up the Blue Ridge Parkway

Traversing Silvermine Bald (Credit: White Dot Adventures)

Brendon and I had met only a week prior on a run across some local Cashiers mountains, and I was beyond stoked when he, a far more experienced runner, offered to support my project. He filled my waters and loaded my vest with electrolyte pills as I threw back more liquid energy. Many folks who hike Pilot Mountain regard it as a difficult climb by itself, but to run straight up Pilot just to drop down into Deep Gap and then climb back up to the Parkway all on overgrown, unstable singletrack is a whole adventure in itself. There are about 4,000 feet of gain in this section alone, but at least the rain had stopped.

Pilot Mountain came and went rather quickly as I plugged into my footsteps and my new “neutral thoughts” mantra that I picked up from Joe McConaughy. I had company at the summit who cheered me on as I dropped into the gap and proceeded up the longer, more ambiguous climb up to the road. I have already hiked this section four times, but even still I can’t seem to find anything in that endless sidewinding stretch of pine that marks my progress. I thought I was about to summit ten minutes earlier than anticipated, and every time I found myself to be wrong about topping out I felt frustrations coming on. “I am moving. I am making progress.” These are the neutral kind of thoughts I kept running through my head as I climbed upward, and eventually, the road did come. I’ve never felt such a long ten minutes in my life.

Ok, so I’m on the parkway. A quick send up the scraggly root-fest that is Silvermine Bald and then a ridgeline traverse to the Black Balsam parking area where Brendon had my second support station. Two-Thirds done.

Shining Rock Traverse to the Finish

Ascending Black Balsam (Credit: White Dot Adventures)

Brendon joined me for the hop over Black Balsam. I’ve said before that I’m not used to running with other people but it was a really nice change of pace to have some conversation and some footsteps moving behind me. The rolling balds don’t bring a ton of elevation gain but instead offer a lot of sun exposure and seven-foot-tall, yes you read that right, bush that the two-foot-wide trail runs through. Am I going to step on a snake? Am I going to crash my shin into a rock hidden underneath the grass that’s constantly whopping me in the face? Who knows?! That’s part of the fun!

Lucky for me I only banged my shin a handful of times while out there, but that midday July sun cooked me badly. One thing I wasn’t prepared for was how the elevation change and constant jostling from running all day would affect my ability to keep food down. I was over six hours, twenty miles, and 8,000 feet of gain into my run having kept down only half a fig bar, and I was about to pay for it.

I averaged 15-minute miles in the rolling section one, 18-minute miles in the high elevation-gain section two, and now when the terrain was at its most negotiable I was moving at a timid 20-minute mile average with the sun beating down upon me. As in all things, my inability to finish in my desired time was a direct result of some inefficiency in my preparation and execution, but just as I said on the climb “I am moving forward.” I reached the end of the ridge by Cold Mountain and saw the last 4-mile long drop into Camp Daniel Boone. The only thing between me and the finish was my ability to barrel down the mountainside where the terminus would be waiting for me just as it did on my first Art Loeb experience in 2018.

One sharp hairpin turn left and then the trail begins to fall off the mountainside. In the middle of my energy crash I was moving about how I did going uphill on section two, but faster is faster and the two minutes or so that I shaved off each mile were a welcomed feeling. Anyone who has hiked the Art Loeb knows how elusive this section of trail can be. On one side way above where I was running lied the ridgeline I had just traversed and on the other a deep, sunken valley that’s thickly forested and identical to every other part of the valley on this 4-mile stretch of trail. Luckily, the trail is playful enough to stave off the monotony of the views. The constant jumping over roots and carefully choosing a path across the loose rocks keeps the mind occupied on not falling off the trail down the embankment and into the forest floor below.

I barrelled through the last mile and slapped the terminus before turning off my watch. 8:40:25. Not bad, Jacob. Not bad at all.

Myself and Brendon Voelker atop Black Balsam (Credit: White Dot Adventures)

A final BIG thanks to Brendon from White Dot Adventures for the support and tips! Check out his guiding company here.