Road Prong Trail--Where the Creek IS the Trail

A clear, cold morning dawned as we drove up Newfound Gap Road to our destination on this second pretty Saturday in a row! That has been rare this winter, and we were thankful for the opportunity to hike back-to-back Saturdays.  Because the road to Clingman's Dome is closed until April 1, we parked one car at the Chimney Tops Parking Area and finished the climb to Newfound Gap.  That's where we had to leave the second car so we could hike up the Appalachian Trail toward Clingman's Dome in search of the trailhead of our chosen "new miles" for the day.  This is a delightful stretch of trail as the AT rises up toward the summit of the highest peak in the Smokies and the highest peak on the entire length of Appalachian Trail.  On this day we would only walk 1.7 miles of the AT, but we would still have the opportunity to meet and talk briefly with two of the first thru-hikers of the class of 2014.  The couple had left Springer Moutain, Georgia on February 14.  As they said that, I remembered back to all the bitter cold and difficult weather we've had since February 14 and felt, honestly, a bit awestruck by the fact that they had been hiking through all of that!  We chatted for just a moment and then they went on.  The young man was going to hitchhike down to Gatlinburg while the young woman was hiking on.  Not sure if he was resupplying and then would catch up with her or if they were going their separate ways at that point.

It is along this stretch of the AT where you come across an unusual area--unusual for the Smokies anyway.  Without warning, the hiker comes to a metal grate and a hogwire fence and a sign that explains this somewhat curious phenomenon.

This exclosure (yes exclosure, not enclosure) holds so many botanical treasures that it has been protected from the digging and rooting damage that you sometimes see in other places in the Smokies backcountry inflicted by the feral hogs brought into the region by settlers long ago.  Descendants of hogs which escaped into the wild now present a difficult problem for those who are entrusted with protecting the beauties and rarities that exist in this fragile ecosystem--hence, the fence.  This fence keeps OUT those hogs which would otherwise devastate this beech forest.  If you get the opportunity to walk through this little piece of heaven in the spring when the wildflowers are blooming, you will instantly understand and appreciate the presence of the fence.

Not long after walking through this area, we came to Indian Gap where Road Prong and the AT intersect.  There's a parking area here that you can drive to when Clingman's Dome Road is open, but until April 1, that road is deserted.  It's rare indeed to see that heavily travelled thoroughfare vacant of any moving vehicles and be able to stand in the middle of it to take pictures or to take in the spectacular views of the distant peaks.  

Now that we've come to the beginning of new miles for this hike, we turn right and begin to head down the mountain toward our waiting car.  I knew from the trail descriptions I had read that this trail intersects numerous times with Road Prong (creek) as it gathers water and increases in size while travelling down toward the West Prong of the Little Pigeon River.  However, the trail books I had read were apparently written before the storms that have impacted this part of the Park in the last couple of years.  There were long stretches of this creek that passed through blowdown areas that afforded no other passage except to walk directly down the middle of Road Prong itself.  This was rock-hopping at it's finest--not only rock-hopping to go across a stream, but actually finding a path downriver to a place where, eventually, the trail would re-emerge.  It was definitely challenging and a tiny bit unnerving, but it was the most fun part of the day.  I couldn't help but be in awe of the power of nature that would drop so many massive trees during a storm and then stack them up in a log jam at one point down the creek that looked like a pile of pick-up-sticks.  The small creek was undeterred though and simply meandered through, under, and around the trees that attempted to block it's path.  Once the trail opened up again through more open terrain and lovely rhododendron thickets, it looked like more familiar sections of this Park.  However, without warning at one turn in the trail we were literally greeted with a jaw-dropping sight.  Rounding a curve in the trail with not even an auditory warning from the falls, we gazed upon this: 

This magical, deep pool and cascade took one's breath away by both its beauty and its unexpected appearance. Pictures absolutely do not do it justice. Had it been a warmer day, I might have attempted the treacherous, steep path that descended to it, but I probably shouldn't have any way.  I simply appreciate having had the opportunity to stand on the trail and gaze at its splendor.

The rest of the trail was a pleasant descent to the intersection with Chimney Tops Trail where we were instantly struck by the presence of masses of humanity that have returned to my park now that spring is on its way.  I must admit I felt a twinge of sadness to know that the solitude of these great mountains will now be accosted by these "visitors."  We spent much of the remaining trip picking up trash--orange peels, energy bar wrappers, even a wine bottle--that folks had carelessly dropped as they ascended to one of the most visited summits in the Smokies. I was jolted by the lack of respect they have for this place.  I am unsure how one visits such a spectacular venue and acts with such utter disregard for its almost holy ambience.  I am, however, aware that it is the very presence of these millions of visitors that gives me entrance on a routine basis to one of the most special places on Earth.  For that, I am eternally grateful.

The Winter of Little Hiking

This winter has been tough, not only here in Tennessee, but really across much of the country, so I'm not really going to complain too loudly, but as a result I've been able to do very little hiking.  It seems that what little pretty weather was to be had in our region always came during the week.  Weekends were cold and rainy or even found the mountains blanketed in deep snow during bitterly cold temperatures that, honestly, I was a little afraid of.  In hopes of finding the opportunity to do some hiking in the snow, I purchased some microspikes, but road closures and my ability to get TO the mountains impeded my best intentions and I've been unable to test them out.  I did carry them with me on December 31, 2013 when we did a little jaunt in the Cosby/Big Creek area though. It was during this hike on Low Gap I and Low Gap II that I experienced a winter fairyland at Low Gap unlike anything I'd ever seen before.

Suddenly, the fog above us began to lift, as a cold wind began to blow, forcing us to stop and put our coats back on.  We had shed them earlier in the hike because, as usual on a steep ascent, we were beginning to sweat.  Perspiration was no longer an issue as the cold wind blew through us.  Walking up the last quarter mile before Low Gap, you could see the surroundings change from green to sparkling ice.  The sun's rays glistened through tiny prisms of crystallized water vapor literally clinging to everything.  

As we approached the top of the trail at Low Gap, bitterly cold winds blew so hard it was all we could do to operate our cameras to capture the sight.  Staying for long, in spite of how much we wanted to tarry and take in all the splendor was simply unwise.  Stepping a mere 15 feet down the trail and off that high point where trails meet was enough to protect us from immediate hypothermia, but that experience drove home the intense respect one must maintain for these mountains.  

It never snowed or even rained on us that day, but it was the coldest I've ever been in all my hiking in these mountains.  I never did really get warm again until I was home even though we still had another 7 miles or so to hike on that day.  

Since that hike, I've only hiked two other times this winter.  One hike was just a short jaunt into the mountains to stretch my legs on a trail I'd already hike twice before--really just an opportunity to spend some time with good friends.  The only other hike happened this past weekend and there's a blog post to come on that one.  

Mt. Sterling Fire Tower and Baxter Creek Trail

I am a junkie.  I admit it; I take personal responsibility for it; I acknowledge it to all who ask or will listen; I'm not ashamed of it!  I am an elevation junkie, pure and simple!  And I love winter hiking because it feeds that addiction with every step of a trail that leads to peaks or balds.  This is a wonderful time of year to explore the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in all its grandeur because not only do you have spectacular views at the destination, you get them in snippets all along the way.

The view from Mt. Sterling Trail early in the morning

On days like yesterday when the temperatures are moderate and there is minimal snow on the ground to make hiking treacherous, one of my favorite things to do is get high! I mean that in every sense of the word.  Making my way into the upper elevations fills me with an excitement and joy that I know comes from the Lord.  How can one hike in this place and not sense His majesty and power?  Others may be able to, but I cannot.

Mt. Sterling Trail is a 2.7 mile hike with an elevation gain of about 2000 feet.  Temps were in the upper 20s when we began the hike, but within the first half mile or so, we were shedding layers.  By then I was hiking in only my cuddleduds long underwear shirt and a short-sleeved active wear top.  My fleece lightweight hoodie and my favorite Mountain Hardwear soft-shelled jacket were tucked inside my pack and strapped on the outside, respectively.  We were sweating with the elevation change, that's for sure!

One good thing about taking pictures as you hike is that is gives you a good excuse to stop on these intense climbs and catch your breath without having to own up to needing to stop to give you heart time to get out of your ears and back down into your chest.  That was the case on this hike, but there were always great views to stop and try to capture in the camera.

It took us almost 2 hours to hike that 2.7 miles, but stopping along the way to enjoy these kinds of views was a part of the fun.  One thing I enjoy about my hiking buddies is that we are in the woods to enjoy what it has to offer, not race through them to see how fast we can finish.  There's just too much beauty to fly past it.

Mt. Sterling Fire Tower

At the end of the Mt. Sterling Trail is the fire tower.  It rises 60 feet above the ridgeline which was whipped this day by some fairly brisk winds.  This is one of only a handful of fire towers built by the CCC during the Great Depression that remain standing.  Climbing the tower is not for the faint of heart, especially on a day like this with winds that seemed to be trying to keep you from making it to the top.  The open staircase dares you to look down, but at least this tower has handrails on both sides, unlike the similar structure on the top of Shuckstack Mountain which has lost one side of its handrail on at least one section of the stairs.

I had been told, and yes it is true, that the tower shakes a bit in the winds up there.  But let me assure you, the views from the top are worth swallowing your fears and pressing on.  My iPhone 5 camera is pretty good especially with the HDR setting engaged, but no camera can truly capture what you see from the top when you get the courage to look out.

Climbing back down the tower was worse than going up, but you can't stay up there forever, even though you're tempted to do just that. 

Our descent of Mt. Sterling took us along the Baxter Creek Trail which meanders steeply down a 6.1 mile path of switchbacks and follows the contours of this great mountain through ever-changing forests to take you down about 4000 ft. Sometimes you're surrounded by massive boulders and outcroppings of stone that must have been heaved up out of the ground by powerful forces of colliding continental plates eons ago.  Sometimes you step around a curve to see masses of soft, thick moss literally covering everything much like a landscape which has been overtaken by kudzu, but much more enchantingly beautiful.  Then, oddly enough, it was in the middle elevations of this north face of the mountain that we encountered a dusting of snow--just enough to make it lovely.  

I had heard horror stories of this trail.  Twitter friends who had hiked it told me how steep it was and that they had love-hate relationships with this trail, but they must have been going UP it.  Going down, it provided several hours of enjoyment with the exception of one moment when I apparently was looking off trail.  My left foot tangled on a root and instantaneously, I felt myself falling and landing with a thud on my side on the trail.  I didn't even have time to try to break my fall.  I think my hiking pole must have also been tangled which caused me to fall on my side instead of directly forward.  I fell straight on my ribcage under my left arm and caught a root that took the full force of my fall.  I instantly thought, "that's a great way to break a rib." But, I got up slowly, and everything still worked, thankfully.  The rest of the way down, I worried about the pain in my side and arm, but didn't mention it to anyone.  I think I'm ok, but I'm still not sure I haven't cracked a rib.  Guess time will tell.  This is my first major fall in probably more than 700 miles of hiking.  I knew it would happen one day, and I'm thankful it wasn't worse.  

Within the last half mile, we began to feel a light sprinkle of rain making it's way through the canopy above us, but we stayed dry.  It was only after we had crossed Big Creek and made our way back to the waiting vehicle that it really started to rain.  We had been lucky in more ways than one on this day.  

Another Lucky Day in the Great Outdoors

A clear, cold day was the perfect backdrop for a 3 1/2 hour stint standing shin to hip deep in the South Holston River accompanied by my brother and my 82-year old Dad. I couldn't have asked for a better day even if we didn't catch fish, but we were more lucky than that. I have no pictures from today's fishing trip, but I will share a pic of Dad on a trip earlier this year.

This is the man that had me in the waters of the North Carolina mountains when I was probably 5 or 6 years old. At that time we were spin fishing with a 3-barbed lure that was gold with red spinners (well, at least one of them was red--that part of the memory is a little fuzzy.) I can see it vividly in my mind's eye all these years later. It was this early exposure to the joys of outdoor activities that has impacted my life in such an important way.

We almost always caught fish then, and we almost always catch fish now, but our weapon of choice has changed. Today we exclusively use a fly rod, and casting it is a constant battle to produce that perfect loop and lay it quietly on the water with the precise upstream mend. Always a work in progress, but everything I know about fly-fishing, I learned from him.

I caught 7 browns and bows today, but the choice of bug was another continual challenge. We had to work for these fish today except right at the beginning of the day when they first turned the generators off and the water receded. Fish hit quickly during those first few minutes. At the time, I had on a blue-wing olive dry with a blue-wing olive nymph tied on below it. After a few of those hitting only the nymph, and one really nice fish breaking my tippet, I had lost the only two Dad had tied for me. After seeing a large sulphur on the water, I switched to a light colored sulphur with a zebra midge as my dropper. The midge caught the eye of a couple of fish too, but I never caught a fish on any dry fly I tied on today--and it wasn't for lack of trying!

I am so thankful for every day I get to spend on the water, especially those spent with my dad. I fully realize how fortunate I am that he is not only still here, but able to fish. Every outing could be our last together, but I will always treasure the time I spend with him and the skills and pleasures in nature that he has shared with me.

 

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Times, they are a-changing! Hiking Through History

Something unusual has happened to me since my last post of the video from our Appalachian Trail section hike in June.  I've had Change-Induced Writer's Block!  During the last 6 months, I've continued to hike--probably more than ever before, but I've been unable to write about it.  You see, during the Appalachian Trail hike a relationship between the bulk of the group and one individual was severely damaged.  It's strange how 4 days spent in the wilderness can exacerbate an already strained relationship and ill-advised and unsafe decisions prove to the elders of the group that it's no longer smart to continue to hike with that person.  The failure of that hiking relationship has been difficult to deal with and I've not felt like talking about it.  I still won't talk about it, but I DO want to share my hiking adventures again!  So, enough of that!  Times, they are a-changing, and that's OK!

To catch up with where I am in my quest to hike ALL the trails in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, here's the current number: 455.7 of 791.4!  My goal for this year was to be at 400 by December 31, so I met that goal with plenty room to spare--actually over a month ago.  I hiked over 150 miles just during the time I was out from school (I teach, remember, so I enjoy about 7 weeks of summer vacation!)

On the Monday before Christmas, we ventured back to Kephart Prong Trail to catch up one of the group who wasn't able to go the first time around.  Kirsten and I had done this hike in July as part of an overnight trip in the Smokemont Campground.

Our Smokemont Campsite during July

THAT was a great trip where we snuck in a Friday afternoon/evening hike to Kephart Shelter and back and then a 15+ miler the following day up Bradley Fork, Chasteen Creek, Hughes Ridge, and back down Bradley Fork Trail.

On Monday though, Jennifer and I were able to do only the Kephart Prong Trail.  At some point, we'll need to repeat the longer loop with her, but the days are too short right now. This was a leisurely trip back in time as we meandered along Kephart Prong leaving the trail to look at relics from the bygone days of the 1930s and 40s when this part of the Park was home to a CCC camp and a fish hatchery. What struck me as cool on Monday was how different this same hike was only 6 short months ago.  Relics that were covered in bright green foliage were laid bare by the winter chill and its effects on the plant life in the area.  Some things we did see during the summer, like rock gate posts and the entrance sign to the camp.

Other things like this hand-pump well mechanism (that's my best guess anyway), we never saw back in July.  The bare vines and trees were not enough to hide this and other remnants of what once must have been a busy community of men who were willing to do most anything for a check during the Great Depression.

Moving on past the CCC camp site, we made our way further up the trail and came to the location of a fish hatchery which was put here to replenish the overfished streams of this great Park which provided food to locals during a time when money to buy food was difficult to come by.

This large cistern was once the home to fry which were grown to a large enough size to release to hopefully survive in the streams and grow up to proliferate on their own in the waters that are the life-blood of this special place.

At the end of this two-mile hike in, is Kephart Shelter, named for one of the men most influential in the development of the Park in the 1920s.  This is a wonderful shelter that I hope to one day stay in.  It is located so close to the river that you would listen to the river music as you drifted off to sleep and wake to its cascades in the early morning light.  I could so do this!

Chix with Stix on the Appalachian Trail--4 Amazing Days in the Smokies

Last week, my hiking group, Chix with Stix, set off from Newfound Gap to backpack to the northern boundary of the Smoky Mountains, ending at Davenport Gap. I will be blogging about the experience, but in the meantime, I wanted to share a short video of the highlights. You can check it out here:

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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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