Close Encounter of the Black Bear Kind

The Cataloochee area of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park contains many trails I have yet to hike, so one recent Friday, my husband and I got up really early and drove the two hours to the Cataloochee Campground where our chosen hike of the day would begin.  I was glad to be in his Toyota FJ as opposed to my Mustang because the road to the campground is a bit of a challenge.  This road closes frequently in the winter, and for good reason!  He never put the FJ in 4WD, but it was nice to know it was there if we needed it.

My hiking partners and I had tried to do this hike back in the winter, but had arrived at the trailhead to find the footlog which crosses the river washed away.  Later, we read that there were no plans to rebuild, so we decided at the time to attempt this hike in the summer when the fairly long crossing wouldn't leave us cold and wet at the very beginning of the hike.  However, as we pulled up to the trailhead on this day, there was a brand-spanking new footlog stretched across the river.  This is reportedly the longest footlog bridge in the Park.  Thrilled that the only marked crossing on this trail had been spanned for us by this awesome bridge, we chose to leave our water shoes in the car--a mistake, for sure!

The brand new bridge replaced only a couple days before we got here

Our itinerary on this day was to go about .8 miles up Caldwell Fork Trail to the intersection with Boogerman Trail, take it up and over the ridge and return a few miles later to a more distant intersection with Caldwell Fork.  From there, we would do the .4 miles on Caldwell Fork to the next trail intersection, then turn around and walk back to the car on Caldwell Fork Trail.  That would make for about 8.4 miles, a nice length hike for my husband, who hikes only occasionally with me because of his work schedule.  The only other major crossings noted on Caldwell Fork were on a much more distant part of the trail which we would not cover on this hike, hence the justification for not carrying the added weight of water sandals with us.

Within the first mile, though, we came to a deep water crossing with no bridge.  We were close enough to the car I could have gone back for shoes, but didn't want to add almost two miles to our hike because I really want my husband, Bunk, to keep hiking with me.  I choose my trails with him carefully to keep it fun and enjoyable for him. That's very important to me.  So our only choices were to take the boots off and enter the water, unable to see what lay on the riverbed, or just push on through with our boots on.  We chose the later knowing that would mean wet feet for the rest of the day.  

One of many unbridged crossing on this hike

Almost immediately, we came to the first intersection with Boogerman Trail and turned left to begin the fairly gentle ascent up to the ridge.  Caldwell Fork Trail, being a horse trail, was fairly well travelled it seemed, but not so with Boogerman Trail.  There was some slight overgrowth along the way, but it's still pretty early summer. I'd say by the end of July there'll be some significant overgrowth.  But it was an enjoyable trail nonetheless.  It did not contain the muck and mire typical of horse trails like Caldwell Fork, and the pine needles and deciduous leaves that had fallen on the trail made it fairly soft underfoot. Only minimal rocks and roots were present, so tripping wasn't such a distinct possibility.  I spent my time watching for snakes, but thankfully, none made an appearance! 

What we did see along the way were a few rhododendron still in bloom, some fairly interesting mushrooms, lots of snails, and a couple of toads. It's these little things that you simply don't have time to see if you're pushing at a frantic pace like some people seem to like to hike.  That's one thing I like about hiking with my husband. We are not in a hurry, so we take the time necessary to enjoy the scenery that we see around us.

There are some interesting sites along Boogerman Trail too.  At one point we passed what looked to be a very old tulip poplar (I could be wrong on the identification though.  Tree ID is not my thing.) Not long after that we came to a VERY long rock wall built by early settlers of this region.  There was no mortar used in this wall, but I bet it had been here since the 1920s or 30s, if not before, and still stood tall and proud.  It's hard to imagine the amount of work it took to build that structure, and I tried not to think of what it must have been like to be forced to leave an area that had been your home as these settlers had been. As I hike these trails, I am often reminded of their sacrifice so that I can enjoy the park that was set aside for the use of all Americans on land that had once been their own homeplace. I experience a dichotomy of feelings, that's for sure.  

One of the most interesting sites along this trail was a huge tree that is hollowed out at the base, presumably by lightning.  This tree still lives, but with a hollowed-out crevice in it large enough for people to stand in.  I didn't go in (I don't like spiders or snakes), but you could tell others had. This, to me, is just another example of the tenacity of nature, the doing whatever it takes to survive.  Adapting to unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances seems to be the norm in nature, something that comes in handy for us as humans too, it seems.                                                                                                                                       Shortly after seeing the tree and the rock wall, we came to the end of Boogerman Trail and the intersection with Caldewell Fork.  Here, we took a few minutes respite to eat a snack and rest our feet. I was in the middle of changing into dry socks when we heard a huge crash in the woods.  I called out, hoping it was someone coming down the trail from the other direction, but got no response.  I thought it was probably a bear, but we tried to convince ourselves it was a limb falling from a tree. We packed up pretty quickly at that point and headed up the short piece of Caldwell Fork to the next trail intersection.  I needed to do that little piece to make the next jaunt in that area a little easier.  After doing that short piece up and back, we returned to the intersection where we'd had our lunch.  Walking now back toward our vehicle on Caldwell Fork, we again encountered the muddy stretches commonly found on horse trails. However, now there were large prints freshly made in that mud.  My first comment to Bunk was I hoped that was just someone's large dog. Although dogs are not allowed on trails in the Smokies, it is not unusual to run into people who ignore that rule and hike with their dogs anyway.  I was hoping that's what it was, but deep inside, I figured it might not be.  Soon we came upon two sets of tracks, one the large ones we'd previously seen and one much smaller. This time, the claw marks on the toes were clearly visible, leaving us with no doubt that this was a large female black bear and her this year's cub alongside her.

 Immediately I began blowing the whistle I keep attached to the chest strap of my pack, alerting momma bear to our presence and exact location.  The last thing I wanted to do was to surprise her or get between her and her cub by accident. We also took a moment to arm ourselves--hubby pulled out his 38 Special and I pulled out my bear mace and removed the safety latch.  But most importantly, I kept blowing that whistle. I didn't want to use the mace and certainly didn't want to have to be in a desperate enough, last ditch situation for Bunk to have to use the .38, but we also didn't want to become a statistic. Since momma bear and cub were going in the same direction we were (back toward our vehicle), we gave her some time to move away from us and then began to make our way slowly up the trail constantly watching for new tracks.  Finally, after about 1/4 mile, we saw her tracks make a left turn, escorting baby up into a thicket of dog hobble.  Those were the last of her tracks we saw in the mud of the trail, thankfully.  I fully believe that blowing the whistle repeatedly and letting her know where we were at all times kept what could have been too close of an encounter from escalating into a bad situation.

It does seem that the bear population in the Smokies is particularly unpredictable this year, especially in the last few weeks.  There are multiple closures of trails and shelters in the Park because of aggressive bear activity. You can find that list HERE. If you're heading into the park anytime this summer, be sure to check that site.  It begins with road closures, but scroll down a bit to find facilities closed or on alert due to aggressive bear activity.  I read an article in a Sevier County online magazine the other day that said now is the time for mating of the black bears, so males will stand their ground to protect their territory even from people.  Usually, they will run away at the sight or sound of hikers, but not during this time.  Also, right now is the time when momma bears are weaning their yearling cubs, so it's not unusual to see those half-grown cubs in the woods alone, looking somewhat confused.  They, too, can be somewhat unpredictable according to those reports.  I highly suggest that if you're headed to the Smokies, you take a few minutes to watch the video on bear safety located on the Park website.  You can find it and other information you need to know about being in bear country HERE. There's also a good video HERE put out by Orvis on how to use bear mace correctly. It's worth watching too. What you learn there could save you from an unfortunate encounter, and also might save the life of a bear. Bears who are caught up in encounters with humans, even if those situations are caused by poor behavior of people, often have to be put down.  So, please, know the rules and safety regulations that can prevent such unhappy situations from occurring.  A photograph just isn't worth it.

Young bull elk on Cataloochee Campground Road

The rest of our hike was uneventful, but as we were driving back up the road out of the campground, we were pleasantly surprised by the presence of a young bull elk grazing just on the side of the road. He was adorned with huge antlers which were "in velvet." When antlers are being regrown each year (elk and deer lose their antlers after the "rut" or breeding season), they are covered with a soft, velvety covering that is accompanied by rich blood flow to the growing cells.  Once the antlers are fully developed, that velvety covering will be rubbed off and the antlers become hard. Anyway, he was beautiful! We did not get out of the car because we were too close, but snapped a few pictures as we moved on up the road.   

What a day this had been! I absolutely love sharing days in the woods like this with my husband. It seems the cares of our normal daily lives just vanish in the splendor of what has become my favorite place on the planet.  I am so blessed to live close to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and to have a husband who will hike in it with me!

The Comeback Hike: Meigs Creek Trail

Sunday morning dawned clear and warm, so hubby and I made our way up to "The Sinks" parking lot in the Great Smoky Mountains to begin a short hike to test out the progress my previously injured knee was making.  This was the first time I'd been on the trails in several weeks, and I was anxious to strap on the trail shoes.  We arrived at the trailhead about 9:40 and started the walk up the path behind the viewing area of one of the most popular spots in the Park. The rushing cascades that make up "The Sinks" had much less water in them than usual which was a good sign for us since there are 18+ crossings one way on this trail that we were going to do up and back.  That meant at least 36 times we'd cross Meigs Creek on this 7 mile round trip hike.

The first 1.4 miles of this trail are dry, passing through lush vegetation within earshot of the creek at times and of the highway at other times. The path rises fairly gently for the first bit up a dry southward facing bank which is known to be home to timber rattlers who like to warm up in the sun. Luckily, we never saw one this time although we were surprised with how quickly black snakes can come out of a tree and slither into the depths of the forest. We also surprised a black bear who leapt out of a tree so hard and fast that the tree swayed back and forth for quite some time without its prior inhabitant.

Once the path descends to the creek after that first 1.4 miles, you stay with it for the majority of the rest of the trek.  At this point, the scenery takes on the mystery and magic of the deep woods and the serenity of a lovely mountain stream.  From here, the creek and the trail cross paths too many times to really count.  It's not even worth trying! On a day like the day we were there, most of the crossings can be managed with rock hops.  Eventually though, I decided to simply put on my Keen sandals and just walk right through the majority of the crossings.  Bunk, my husband, kept his hiking boots on and maneuvered the rock hops quite well with no incidents--no water in over the tops of his boots at all. 

 After you make first contact with the creek, even if you don't want to or have time to do the whole trail, keep going another quarter to half a mile and you'll come across a maybe 20 foot cascade that is definitely worth the walk.  In fact, we ran across a family who had done just this.  They weren't carrying packs or even water, but had just made their way up the path in search of the falls they'd heard of.  It's certainly a pretty little falls and on days when more water was in the stream, it would be even better.  This is NOT, however, the Meigs Falls that can be seen from Little River Road.  That is one of my favorite falls in the park, but I've been told no trail goes to it.  I bet someone knows how to get there off trail, but that someone isn't me! 

 This was one of the most enjoyable hikes I've done in a while that lacked high vistas.  I believe during the winter there would have been some nice views along some of the ridges, but all that water would certainly be cold in the winter too, so it was a worthwhile trade-off for us.  Those rocks would have been slick as glass if they'd been icy.  

After all those crossings, the trail rises above the creek and finally passes through some rhododendron forests and some fern banks that shimmer in that new growth green that you really don't find anywhere else.  Another switchback or two and you find yourself at the trail intersection with Meigs Mountain and Lumber Ridge trails. There are a couple nice logs downed here for you to sit on while you snack and catch your breath and either turn around and go back down the way you came or turn right or left to go to Tremont or Elmont along either of the other trails. Really it's only one crossing trail, but the name changes at this intersection for some reason.  Since we were only in the one vehicle, we returned the way we had come, back to the Sinks.  It felt great to be on the trail again, and I was quite pleased with the way my knee behaved.  This one was short, but was new miles nonetheless--never a bad thing!

So Much History--So Many Miles!

I've been looking forward to hiking Old Settler's Trail for a long time because it is so rich in the history of the time before the Great Smoky Mountains National Park became what it is today. I love to imagine what it might have been like to have really lived in these mountains in the days when folks supported themselves with the efforts of their own hands. Old Settler's Trail allows you to walk literally back into a time when that was all true.

This trail covers approximately 16 miles between the Greenbrier and Cosby sections of the park, meandering in and out of gaps and beside creeks along what once were probably wildlife trails and eventually became trails used by the folks who lived here. Much of the trail was created along paths that once connected the various settlements in this region to each other.

So many remnants and relics remain along this trail--from gorgeous stone chimneys and impressive walls of boulders laid one on another to a few pots still scattered around the foundation of what once was someone's home--that it is impossible to walk along it without putting yourself in the footsteps of the old families such as the Partons, the Huskeys, and the Lindsays who once called this area home. I found myself imagining what it must have been like to provide for and raise a family out there--the hardships that must have abounded, but also the blessings that such a life would have provided.
Since folks primarily built their homes in the lower areas of these mountains, along creeks that would sustain them and in areas where some flat lands could be found to raise crops and livestock, there's not a tremendous amount of elevation change on this hike. The topography is not difficult; only the length of the hike, if you do the entire trail, makes it challenging. You could, however, do a part of the trail in and out, or you could backpack it and spend the night at Backcountry Campsite #33 and still see plenty of historical relics to give you a feel for the lifestyle of these hearty people. The most impressive structures, in my mind anyway, are the massive stone walls, and those lie on the Cosby side of the trail.

The Mountain Laurel were especially beautiful!

There were some pleasant surprises on the day we did this hike. I had not hiked in a couple of weeks, so the first thing I noticed that was a delightful surprise was that the Mountain Laurel were in full bloom. Laurel flanked the trail on both sides in many spots providing gorgeous sights which replaced the vistas that are not available along this trail because of the lower elevations. We also were lucky enough to see many Pink Lady's Slippers in peak bloom, again, another unexpected treat. About half way into the hike, maybe about two miles before we got to Campsite #33, we encountered first a bear cub, and then about a mile closer to the campsite, a huge black bear, presumably a male, foraging on the prolific supply of what I think were Hickory nuts scattered along the forest floor. We were lucky enough to have seen him without him seeing us and were able to stand and just watch him for a few minutes before speaking loudly enough for him to notice our presence. Lucky for us, since the trail went straight toward where he had been standing, as soon as he heard us, he threw his head up in the air, looked right at us for just a split second, and then made a beeline back into the woods in the opposite direction. That was quite a moment for us!

One word of caution though if you decide to do this trail--about half way in there is a considerable amount of storm damage and at one point the debris is so thick we became concerned that we had lost the trail. Just make your way through the debris though and you will find the trail on the other side of the small creek. Once you see the small waterfall that is mentioned in the "brown book" hiker's Bible, you will feel better, or at least we did, because you will know that yes, you are indeed, still on Old Settler's Trail.

I really did enjoy this hike, but in closing I just want to say that a part of me was sad--sad for the settlers who had worked so hard to build such structures in such a remote region only to have been asked (or forced) to leave these homes behind. It's hard to think about the fact that if those folks had remained sole owners of their property, then I would not have had the ability to enjoy these mountains as much as I do. It's a difficult realization to come to. I truly want to thank them for their sacrifice.

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The Magic of Mount Cammerer

Stunning Vistas from the Mt. Cammerer Lookout

Breathtaking views awaited us on this clear, crisp November morning as we gathered in Knoxville and carpooled out to the Cosby Campground to make our last long hike of the fall season. Time had changed now, so Daylight Savings Time would no longer shift the clock in our favor; instead, we would see the sun setting at 5:31 p.m. The Lower Mt. Cammerer--Appalachian Trail--Low Gap Trail loop is a 15.7 mile venture that we had selected as our last hoorah hike of the fall because destination hikes like this are our little hiking group's favorite type of scramble through the woods. Two of the members of the Bucket Brigade, our group of ladies who spend at least two to three days a month working toward the 900 miles of trails in the Smokies, are close to a personal goal of 250 miles and 200 miles completed by the end of the year. Short days and colder temperatures threaten to impede these goals, but we were not to be deterred on this day.

We arrived at the Cosby Campground parking area about the time the sun was coming up--7:30 a.m. However, to our dismay, the bathrooms at the campground/picnic area were closed, there were no pit toilets available, and we had consumed a fair amount of coffee on the way. We determined that we must retreat in search of facilities! We had to drive back toward the interstate about 8 miles to find what we so desperately needed, but thankfully a little country store was open early on this Saturday morning. I could write a whole blog entry on this quaint little store with its old-fashioned cash register and its small group of tables at the back where, undoubtedly, the liars' club convenes for coffee every morning. I love those flashbacks into the past when I stumble on a place like this.

Having lost at least 30 minutes of precious daylight, we donned our gear and headed up Lower Mt. Cammerer trail, a nice easy grade trail which skirts the base of Mt. Cammerer, winding and climbing slowly toward an intersection with the Appalachian Trail somewhere near the ridge line. This enjoyable path ascended at a grade similar to that of a rails-to-trails bike path. There were times when you really didn't even notice that you were climbing, but you knew you must be. At this time of year, with most of the trees having dropped their leaves to the forest floor, there were ample opportunities for pleasant views of the surrounding mountains. Sutton Overlook, a detour of about a quarter mile, offered a tease of what lay ahead for us with a nice view and enough cell phone service to text a picture to family at home.

Lower Mt. Cammerer trail, however, did not go unscathed during Superstorm Sandy's visit to the Smokies a week and a half earlier. Numerous rhododendron bushes had broken or had bent and bowed under the weight of the heavy snow she dropped on this region. I cannot imagine how many of these beautiful shrubs on the whole face of Cammerer were damaged because we had to go under, over, or around at least 25 on this trail. In one spot, a large tree had uprooted and fallen over the trail leaving a gaping hole in the mountainside. We had no choice but to scramble up and over the root ball in the loose soil of that wound simply because there was no other way around it.

It was somewhere along the Lower Mt. Cammerer trail that we began to hear large rustling sounds in the woods around us. We had probably been hiking 4 or 5 miles and the rhododendron thickets were dense enough that we could hear the movements of some fairly large creature, but we could not see him. We promptly began talking loudly to each other and I took my safety whistle and blew it three quick bursts. The Bucket Brigade member who was leading the way, Andrea, jumped, screamed, turned around, and ran back to literally hide behind me and between me and Jennifer. I've honestly never seen a human being move that fast in person! We need to sign her up for the Olympics! That had to be a record time--too bad there's not a 10-yard dash event--she would definitely win! After a good laugh and a discussion about what we should do if we actually met a bear, we set off again.

Not long after this encounter, I was leading the group up the trail (Andrea would no longer hike in front!) when down in the ravine to our left, out from behind a rhododendron thicket came what we were sure for a brief instant was that same bear! Of course, almost instantly we recognized that it was not a bear, but a lone male hiker, off trail and ascending the ravine that would intersect with this trail. Already unnerved from our previous experience, we said only cursory hellos and moved on. Honestly, it was a bit disconcerting to see a man, dressed all in black from his head to his toes, coming out of nowhere like that. We hoped he had just been relieving himself and kept looking to see if he followed us. All three of us had our bear mace at the ready if he did. However, he must have gone the other way, because he did not appear again until much later.

The last mile and a half of the Lower Mt. Cammerer Trail does begin to ascend much more steeply. In fact, we had been hiking at a pretty fast clip because we knew the AT would climb hard and fast as the AT is wont to do. We also knew our pace would slow considerably on that type of terrain, so we were trying to make our best time on this leg of the journey so darkness would not descend until we were done with our hike. In short, we were getting tired. Finally, at 11:45, we reached the intersection with the AT, tired and hungry. The sign said 2.9 miles to Davenport Gap, but "hiker brain" had set in for me and every time I tried to talk about Davenport Gap (our destination next summer when we hike the AT through the Smokies), I reversed the letters and called it Gavenport Dap! It actually happened several times, so amidst our laughter, we decided that it's new name is now Gavenport Dap.

Turning now toward Cammerer on the AT, we knew that the hardest section of this hike was just ahead of us. We were right! Tired and facing those infamous AT steps built into the trail, we struggled up the first mile and a half of this segment. It was tough going. We stopped to eat a banana knowing that we were burning precious time, but deciding that if we didn't eat we would just get slower. Eventually the grade leveled off some and the ascent was much more doable. Also, about this time a rock outcropping provided some excellent pinnacle-type views and photo ops which reinvigorated us. After taking some time for each of us to climb to the top, we were ready to go to the Lookout!

Snow along the spur trail that goes up to the Lookout

Mt. Cammerer Lookout

Snow was now edging the trail along both sides, left over from the superstorm. When we made the turn off of the AT to the little spur that goes to the Lookout, the snow was probably still 6-8 inches deep primarily because it was still so shaded. No matter the reason, the snow did lend a special beauty to this hike. We passed the tie-outs where four horses were resting having carried their owners up this mountain. They were beautiful and I experienced some mixed emotions. I felt sorry for them having to carry people up here, but I also was a bit wistful that their riders had definitely had an easier time of it that we had.

Finally, we made our way to a break in the cover and saw the Mt. Cammerer Lookout in front of us. It really is a beautiful structure which seems like it rises out of the granite rock upheavals all on its own. In reality, it was hand hewn from rocks nearby and constructed by workers of the CCC during the days of the New Deal. Regardless of how it got there, it is a Great Smoky Mountains National Park treasure! The Lookout offers 360 degree views and a marvelous place to rest and recover--one of the most beautiful picnic spots I've ever seen.

While we were there, enjoying the vistas, a familiar black suited creature came literally out of nowhere. He did not come up the trail; instead, he just appeared from behind a rock or tree. Come to find out, this man hikes all over the Smokies--OFF trail! He has been to Mt. LeConte 32 times and never on trail. He had been climbing up the ravine when he met us, turned the opposite way from us on Lower Mt. Cammerer, and had ascended to the top via other such ravines and rock outcroppings. I guess you could call him an extreme hiker. He turned out to be very nice--as are most humans who have hiking as a hobby it seems--and also very knowledgeable. I asked him if he knew what he was looking at as we all took in these incredible views. He pointed out each of the mountaintops and called them by name--Mt. Sterling, Mt. Guyot, and many more. He told us that if we climbed up on top of the railing of the Lookout, you could see some incredible outcroppings of rock. We told him that we would pass on the climbing up on the railing part! We would also leave the off-trail hiking to him. We do well to do the hiking ON-trail!

Sadly, time was passing quickly and the sun was visibly lower in the sky than I really wanted it to be. We left the Lookout and reached the intersection with the AT again at 3:00 p.m. That left us with just 2.5 hours to make it back to the base of this mountain. We still had approximately 5.9 miles to go and we knew full well that going down is sometimes harder than going up. It has its own treacheries.

Needless to say, the descent down first the AT and then Lower Gap is a blur of leaf-strewn trail, rocky footpaths, and evil tree roots whose sole purpose in life is to trip up a hiker. It is a beautiful path, but I'm glad we were going down and not up. The loose rocks and steep slope of the Low Gap trail would have made for a difficult ascent, although it would have been much shorter than the way we had come. What I remember most about that trail was the feel of my toenails being ripped off by the continual bumping into the end of my sock and toe box of my boot and knowing that stopping to re-lace my boots might help. However, I was not going to be the one who was responsible for us getting caught hiking in the dark, so I just trudged on.

We did make it out while daylight was still with us. We hit the trailhead at 5:30 p.m.--one minute before the official setting of the sun. It was quite dusky, however, we did notice that, as we had hoped in case we were later than this, there is enough daylight left after sunset, even in the mountains to still see for probably another 30 minutes, easy. We had brought flashlights with us (well, two of us had), but none of us wanted to be on the trail in the dark with just a flashlight. Luckily, we didn't need them.

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Cade's Cove Camping Remembered

 

In light of recent events in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, I find myself reminiscing about my earliest memories of camping in Cade's Cove, recently hit so hard and possibly forever scarred by devastating windstorms. I didn't realize at the time, but my camping days began not very long after this lovely campground was established. Most of my camping days and nights centered around a 1966 Cox Camper very much like the one pictured here, but I was camping in Cade's Cove long before we made that grand purchase which cost us a whopping $600--a lot of money in those days. I would have been 7-years old when we decided to trade up out of huge, heavy, and cumbersome canvas tents to this extravagant piece of camping equipment.

I remember how excited we were with our new purchase and the amenities that it provided. No longer would we have to carry buckets of water to drink or with which to wash dishes after dinner. This camper had a water tank that we filled up out of our water hose before leaving home. Then we simply had to pump the handle on the faucet in the sink inside to get water for whatever we needed. It also had four inch mattresses inside which promised to be luxurious after having slept on the ground all that time.

But most of what I remember about camping in Cade's Cove was the serenity and peace of this magical place! Even as a child I knew there was something very special about this Park. Something spoke to my soul here although I was too young to understand why. I wasn't too young to appreciate the way even my childish spirit could breath and relax here. There was nothing better than spending days playing in the dirt, hiding behind the rocks, frolicking in the creek until come nighttime we were so tired that sitting around the campfire was a welcome, restful respite.

Most exciting of my memories of Cade's Cove Campground involve the black bears. I don't remember if this was before the park installed bear-proof garbage containers, but seeing bear in the campground was not an unusual occurrence. In fact, one summer we knew the bears by name! My memory tells me there were two bear that visited the campground on a regular basis that year. The name of one I cannot recall, but one I remember vividly--in fact, I can still see him in my mind's eye. His name was Scarface, and he had earned that name with some unknown run-in with whatever creature might do battle with a bear. Scarface sauntered down the paved paths of the campground, but we were not afraid of him. Maybe we were too young to know that we should be afraid of him, but I remember waiting and excitedly watching for him to show up. I do know though that inside that Cox Camper sitting in my garage today there are two plastic washbasins that sport claw marks from a Cade's Cove bear. I don't know if those marks could have been made by Scarface or if that was a different trip and a different bear, but one of them no longer holds water.

On one other campfire night, I remember sitting in my mother's lap. We had popped popcorn on the fire and the adults were talking and telling stories. I remember an instantaneous silence and my mother squeezing me and warning me to be quiet and still. It took me a moment to see what everyone else saw and even then I didn't realize the danger, but a black, squirrel-like animal with a large white stripe on its back was creeping through our campsite, nonchalantly helping himself to the kernels of popcorn that we kids had carelessly dropped as we ate. No one spoke; no one moved. Everyone else knew what might happen at any second, but I just remember thinking how pretty it was. Luckily, the skunk enjoyed the popcorn and never felt threatened by any of us, moving on to someone else's site to see if others were as careless as we had been.

Memories like these are part of what drive me back to the Smokies as often as possible. We still camp in that 1966 Cox Camper sometimes, but not often enough and not usually in Cade's Cove Campground. Our campground of choice is now Elkmont because of the larger size of its sites and slightly fewer number of visitors. However, the serenity and peace that I found there as a child are so much more needed and appreciated today than back then. I think that's why I hike. It's hard to coordinate schedules today to carve out time for a camping trip, but my soul longs for the respite I find in my mountains. Through hiking I can snatch bits and pieces of that solitude and peace in just a few hours, hours that I relish more and more as the stresses of life build and threaten to overwhelm. So, for now at least, I spend hours at a time instead of days at a time in these mountains. But these times continue to be some of my most cherished memories, even the newest ones.

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Flaming Glory on Gregory's Bald

It's been a couple of weeks now, but the awe-inspiring view that opened up before me as I made my first steps out of the woods onto the plateau of Gregory's Bald will be forever burned in my memory. It was one of those moments when your breath is literally taken by the extravagant beauty of the natural world--a moment in which one wonders how anyone can refuse to believe in a divine, and divinely imaginative, Creator. I was struck first by the expansiveness of the view of the surrounding mountains and valleys. These views were almost 360 degrees and came close to rivaling those that are to be had when you stand on the precipice of Cliff Tops at Mount LeConte. Then I was mesmerized by the sheer quantity and variety of flame azaleas growing there. I read somewhere during my preparations for this hike that these azaleas are hybridizing naturally up here on this bald, and I certainly believe it now. There were more varieties than I could keep track of other than to simply enjoy them.

My hiking partners and I had entered Cade's Cove literally at daybreak and made the drive to the far end of the Cades Cove Loop Road to access Parson's Branch Road to leave one vehicle at the trailhead for Gregory's Ridge Trail. From there we continued down Parson's Branch Road to the trailhead for the Gregory's Bald Trail. Be warned, this road is not for vehicles with low clearance, as not only is it gravel, but it is not well maintained and is pocked with potholes and erosion ditches. The weather had been dry, so we didn't need four wheel drive, but that would have been a possibiity if it had been a rainy part of the year. On that part of the drive we were blessed to see a black bear foraging in the early morning light beginning his day as well, so we had a feeling this was going to be a great hike.

Backcountry Campsite #13

Gregory's Bald Trail was a really nice ascent--not too steep and with several places along the way to stop and rest. It is a horse trail as well, so that meant that there are places where the trail itself has been damaged by the hooves, but I don't mind sharing these trails with horses. I do wish it were a requirement for them to wear bags to catch their poop, but I can certainly see the allure of riding horseback along these ridges in this great park. At just a short distance from the top, Backcountry Campsite #13 is nestled in the woods near a small stream. This would be a wonderful place to camp since it is close enough to the top where you could go to the bald to see sunset or lay under the stars for a while or get up early to view the sunrise. I may have to get my husband to return with me to camp up there one night. It would certainly be a beautiful spot.

 Because we had gotten such an early start, we were rewarded with having Gregory's Bald, in all it's splendor, all to ourselves. You forget how quiet and peaceful the world can be if you can just get away from all the people. This magical place will remind you. When we arrived at the top and were blown away by the views and the magnificent beauty, my hiking partners sat to eat their lunch, but I walked across the bald taking pictures and simply reveling in the serenity of this place. I did have cell service up there, so I sent a picture to my husband and let him know that this is a place I would like for him to come back to with me. It's the kind of place you want to share with those you love. Perhaps the solitude we experienced on this day was part of its allure for me. I liked this spot as well as I liked Mt. LeConte, partly perhaps because there have always been lots of people at the summit of LeConte and here, at least on this day, there was no one but us.

 I learned a great deal about hiking and nutrition on this hike too. On the previous hike we took, I made the first four or five miles ok, but the last four were miserable. I felt like my body was simply not wanting to go another step. Our plan for this day was to do 14.3 miles--more than just the two Gregory's Bald trails. Because we are working on hiking all of the 900 miles of trails in this great park, we also decided we would hike the little spur that connects to the Appalachian Trail at Doe Knob. You can hike Gregory's Bald in just slightly over 10 miles, but this little spur was going to add 4 miles to our day. I knew I needed to do something different with nutrition to see if I could get my body to be a more willing partner with my mind on a hike this long. I read up a little on hiking and nutrition and fixed myself a healthy spaghetti dish on the night before the hike. Then on the morning of the hike, I had an English muffin with one egg and one piece of turkey bacon on it. Along the way up to the Bald, we all ate a banana, drank plenty of water, and nibbled on a little beef jerky. I have never felt better on a hike! I had also frozen one of those little packages of fruit, a Fruit Buddy, and by the time I ate it, it was no longer frozen, but still cold, sort of like a small fruit smoothie. I also packed a roll of the gummy-like Shot Bloks by Clif which did give me a boost on the last few miles of this trek. I really felt great all day long on this hike--much better than I have felt hiking in a while and I'm excited about that.

This was a fabulous hike and one that I cannot recommend enough. If at all possible try to do this hike in late June went the azaleas are blooming, but I'm sure that this hike is a great one in any time of year. I can especially envision these vistas draped in the splendor of reds, golds, and oranges that will paint the deciduous trees on the surrounding ridges in the fall. Hmmm, I think I see another hike to the top in my near future!

Follow this link to all the pictures from the hike to Gregory's Bald: 

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