You can see them from Roan Highlands. They appear when viewed from Linville Gorge and Grandfather Mountain too. The long, green balds that comprise Little Hump and Big Hump Mountains stick out like limes in a grapefruit basket. And, you can see all those other landmarks from the Hump Mountains. The iconic Appalachian Trail (AT) arrives from the Highlands of Roan to traverse these two treeless knobs that stand well over 5,000 feet at their summits. Begin from the headwaters of Roaring Creek, near Spruce Pine. Climb for about ¾ mile on the Overmountain Victory National Historic Trail to reach Yellow Mountain Gap. From there, turn right on the AT and navigate meadows and forests along the spine dividing North Carolina and Tennessee. Prepare yourself to be in awe. My brother Dave, my friend Ken, and I visited the Hump Mountains on Monday, June 6, 2016 beginning at 8:15AM and ending about 3:10PM. Our plan was to take the Overmountain Victory Trail to its meeting with the AT, cross Little Hump and Big Hump Mountains, then return.

This is a hike I’ve been wanting to do for some time, really ever since I laid eyes on the Hump Mountain pair from atop Grassy Ridge in Roan Highlands. I had been somewhat confused about how to get there without hiking all the way from Carvers Gap, a round trip of well over 20 miles. Many thanks to Brenda Wiley for offering impeccable directions to the trailhead. It made this a very doable day hike.

We arrived just past 8:00 after a nearly two hour drive from home. The “we” was my brother Dave, visiting from Colorado, and fellow Meanderthal Ken, my regular and steady companion. The trailhead for the Overmountain Victory Trail is at the end of Roaring Creek Road, a drive that could not possibly be any farther from anything else. This is really, really out there. All the better… the remote nature of this location made it all the more adventurous.

The trailhead is right in the cul-de-sac at the end of Roaring Creek Road, on the right hand side. It’s hard to find the trailhead marker as it’s kind of hidden in the weeds, but there is an old rusty open gate there. We discovered immediately that the trail was already overgrown by summer’s foliage. I could swear (seven hours later when we finished) that the weeds encroaching on the trail had already grown another foot. The old roadbed follows the headwaters of Roaring Creek as it tumbles down from Yellow Mountain Gap.

Just past a quarter mile up the hill, the Overmountain Victory Trail makes a hard left turn into an open field. There is a trail marker here, along the treeline. The field couldn’t look more like an old abandoned ski slope if Lindsey Vonn came schussing past. Both Dave and Ken are skiers, and they were wondering aloud about hiking up here with a pair of skis after a winter snow storm. The trail crosses the “ski slope,” then re-enters the woods on the other side to resume the climb to Yellow Mountain Gap.

As you near the gap, a side trail comes in from the left, one that goes to an Appalachian Trail shelter. Weary AT thru hikers can use this shelter for overnight rest before resuming their next day. As we approached, we just happened to meet one, a nice fellow who was struggling, but determined. 25 yards later you reach the gap, and the junction with the Appalachian Trail. Turn right here toward Little Hump Mountain.

The “ski slope” found as you climb the Overmountain Victory Trail.

“To those living beyond the Appalachian Mountains, the American Revolution was a faraway war that had begun in the villages of New England and concerned places like New York and Philadelphia. Most of the “overmountain people,” as they were called, descended from immigrants who had come not from England but from a vast Irish territory known as the Ulster Plantation. These Scotch-Irish had defied King George III’s 1763 proclamation that prohibited private settlements west of the mountains. They claimed the forbidden wilderness for their own, felling trees to clear the land for small farms, building dirt-floor log cabins, growing what they needed and living as they pleased—a people apart.

The Overmountain Men are best known for their role in the American victory at the Battle of Kings Mountain in 1780 during the American Revolutionary War. They hailed from parts of Virginia, North Carolina, and what is now Tennessee and Kentucky. On September 26, 1780, the Overmountain Men began their long trek over the Blue Ridge, marching from Sycamore Shoals to Shelving Rock at the base of Roan Mountain, where they camped for the night. After crossing the mountain at Yellow Mountain Gap, they followed a well-worn path up the North Toe River Valley to Bright’s settlement (modern Spruce Pine, North Carolina).

Some 11 days later, on October 7, the Overmountain Men reached King’s Mountain and prepared for battle. Loyalist casualties included 157 killed, 163 so severely wounded they were left on the field, and 698 captured. Patriot casualties were 28 killed and 62 wounded. British General Cornwallis abandoned his invasion of North Carolina and fell back into South Carolina. In later years, many of the Overmountain Men played important roles in the establishment of Tennessee and Kentucky. In 1980, Congress appropriated funds for the establishment of the Overmountain Victory National Historic Trail, which follows the original marching route of the Overmountain Men.” [cite Wikipedia]

For the next mile the AT climbs along the treeline adjacent to large fields of tall plants like angelica, indian plantain, and yarrow. There is a magnificent view of the Roaring Creek valley, although at times it was obscured by morning fog that wafted through the hollow with the breeze. Once you get a couple hundred feet higher, if you turn around, you can see the AT shelter down below. We also saw a lone deer standing chest deep in the field, keeping a close eye on us.

We happened upon an oddity: a tree struck by lightning that had split vertically in the trunk. It reminded us of those stilt men you see at carnivals perched high atop 12 foot poles with pant legs all the way to the ground. We called it the “stilt man tree.” It was blackberry blossom season, and we also passed a few blooming wild cherry trees. As we rounded a corner and reached a plateau we got our first glimpse of Little Hump Mountain. This was about to get really exciting.

From the moment you can see Little Hump, it is a long steady hike of about a half mile to the summit. Along the way is a gathering of large rocks, a perfect place for our first break of the day. We each grabbed a snack while Dave took about five minutes of time lapse photos of the fog rolling through Yellow Mountain Gap. It created quite the scene, but obscured most of our view of the surrounding mountains.

From the rock outcropping near the summit of Little Hump, fog obscures the view.

When we crossed to the other side of the summit, the low-lying fog continued. We wouldn’t learn until later, on the way back, what a magnificent view of the southern face of Big Hump Mountain we were missing. Still, it was amazing enough anyway with all the tenuous clouds floating on the wind. We could feel the sun. It was trying to burn off the overcast. We continued on our journey.

On the west flank of Little Hump, the AT enters a really cool beech forest. The trees are twisted and gnarled from decades of battling the fierce wind and storms that blow across the Southern Appalachian balds. For the thru hikers, there are a couple campsites and a spring contained within this forest, useful for water resupply. You also lose a few hundred feet of elevation as you drop into the gap between the two Hump Mountains. All the more to climb later.

On the other side of the beech forest, we got our first glance at the dignified expanse of Big Hump Mountain, and the sun was shining on its southern face. From this spot, not quite all the way down Little Hump, you can see the complete ascent. Familiarize yourself with what you are approaching, because as you climb Big Hump Mountain you will reach a couple of faux summits that will dash your hopes. Are we there yet?

The bare tract up Hump Mountain is imposing. We found another outcrop about a hundred feet up for another break. The nourishment would hopefully steel us for the 500 foot climb up this grand mound. The sky continued to clear. We could now see the summit of Little Hump behind us. We could also see Grandfather Mountain to our east, and the ridges of the Tennessee Smokies to the west.

I don’t do climbing steep mountains well. You’ve heard me whine about that before. Ken, however, is a monster when it comes to uphill. I think he gets his lung power from biking. Anyway, he took off on a speed burn and soon became just a blur hundreds of feet above. Dave, on the other hand, is a slow and steady climber. He can go for hours in the twice-as-high Rockies back home, but gradual and quiet. Me, I just suffer.

But, we all made it. Some 30 minutes later, there we all stood on the 5,587 ft summit. There were others enjoying a picnic lunch, so we continued a little bit down the north face to a plaque honoring Stanley Murray on Houston Ridge. Murray, quite the conservationist, was instrumental in bringing the Appalachian Trail to Roan Highlands. Now, it was time for lunch. We sat down on a rock outcrop and breathed deeply.

From Houston Ridge we could see Little Hump in the foreground, with the Roan Highlands behind.

The views are astounding. The clouds, now puffy whites, had lifted enough to recognize the surrounding landmarks. Each of the balds of Roan Highlands were distinct. This was now the opposite view of what had intrigued me about the Hump Mountains. It was every bit as fantastic as I envisioned. Grandfather Mountain and Linville Gorge are in plain view. I’m not as familiar with the mountain ranges on the Tennessee side, but they are all there to behold.

We stayed for probably a half hour. Even then, I still didn’t want to leave, but we had three hours of hiking and a two hour drive ahead of us. The return trip was remarkable. Everything we couldn’t see earlier in the morning was now in plain view. There were also now more hikers out enjoying the stellar day, including a couple more thru hikers, and our old pal we had first encountered back at Yellow Mountain Gap. He was hiking his own hike, steadily plodding along.

There were more wildflowers now in bloom in the afternoon sun. The birds were in full chorus, including what we later learned was a red breasted grosbeak… a loud and persistent fellow. The climb from the gap between the Humps back up Little Hump was a whole lot easier than summiting Big Hump. After we cleared the beech forest on the upward side and turned around, there it was — what we had missed in the morning fog — a magnificent view of the whole of Big Hump Mountain. You will see it in the photo gallery below.

We didn’t dawdle though. Ominous dark clouds were building over Grandfather Mountain and the recognizable Hawksbill and Table Rock at Linville Gorge. We certainly didn’t want to be on a bald mountaintop if the clouds started waging war. The section between Little Hump and Yellow Mountain Gap seemed longer on the way back. Perhaps we were just a bit apprehensive about approaching bad weather. No worries though… we made it back to the car without a drop of rain.

Best Hike How to summarize the brilliant day we all had? This is a hike you must do. If you aren’t in shape, get yourself fit. It is soooo worth it. Allow plenty of time to enjoy everything the Appalachian Trail through the bald Highlands has to offer. So get there early in the morning. Take some good friends so you have others to share the wonderment with. Keep one eye on the weather, but be sure your other is tuned to the absolute magnificence that is the Hump Mountains. I consider this trip to be a best hike, and think you will too.
 

Here is a video my brother Dave put together of our adventure to the Hump Mountains.

This post was created by Jeff Clark. Please feel free to use the sharing icons below, or add your thoughts to the comments. Pack it in, pack it out. Preserve the past. Respect other hikers. Let nature prevail. Leave no trace.

Deep in the remote southwestern corner of North Carolina where the scenic Cherohala Skyway climbs to meet Tennessee at Beech Gap, the Bob Bald Connector Trail (54A) climbs a ridge through Nantahala National Forest to Bob Stratton Bald. One of the lush mountaintop meadows the Southern Appalachians are known for, Bob Bald as it is called, straddles a boundary between Citico Creek Wilderness and Joyce Kilmer-Slickrock Wilderness. During the green seasons Bob puts on a dazzling display of wildflowers with a remarkable array of colors that rival any other of the region’s garden spots. If you want to extend your hike, a web of trails take off from Stratton Bald enabling you to explore the wilderness territories and Unicoi Mountains that surround you. I met a group of Tennessee hiking friends on Sunday, July 26, 2015 for my first hike in this area. We started about 10:45AM and finished at 3:45PM. Our plan was to climb the Bob Bald Connector Trail to Bob Stratton Bald, then return. I also intended to visit the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest after leaving the group so I could witness the giant trees.

The Cherohala Skyway crosses through the Cherokee National Forest in Tennessee and the Nantahala National Forest in North Carolina. “Cherohala” comes from the names of the two National Forests: “Chero” from the Cherokee and “hala” from the Nantahala. Located in southeast Tennessee and southwest North Carolina, the Skyway connects Tellico Plains, TN, with Robbinsville, NC, and is about 40 miles in length. Elevations range from 900 feet at the Tellico River in Tennessee to over 5,400 feet near the state line at Haw Knob. It’s a delightful way to start your day whichever state you’re coming from.

There are several overlooks along the Skyway that offer photographic opportunities as well as trailheads for exploring the surrounding mountains and wildernesses. Most of these are labelled with a name and a sign, but the trailhead for this hike is not. The trailhead is between the two state line welcome signs at a place called Beech Gap. If you are coming from the NC side, it is on your right, the next pullout after the Benton MacKaye Trail crosses the road. This pullout is a forest service road with a gate, and there is room for 4-5 cars to park.

I was delighted to be meeting up with a great group of folks from Tennessee that I hiked with a couple times last winter, and I was excited to be exploring what was completely new territory for me. Despite having lived in WNC for a decade, I just hadn’t made it yet to this very farthest corner of the state. I’ve always wanted to, since hearing of the giant trees found in Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest. Serendipitously, I had even purchased a trail map only a couple weeks before. So when I was asked if I wanted to come, I jumped at the chance.

For the first two miles of this hike you’re on Forest Road 217H, passing along a ridge that demarcates Cherokee and Nantahala National Forests. On your left is Cherokee as well as Citico Creek Wilderness, and on your right is Nantahala. The road is lined in July with stunning bee balm, a native wildflower also known a monarda. We were treated to white ones, crimson ones, purple, and maroon. The name is certainly appropriate as the constant buzz made us aware of the bees getting drunk on nectar.

The forest road is on such a gradual decline that you hardly notice it. However, you will notice it on the way back when you are going uphill instead. There are low spots in the road where puddles and mud collect. Otherwise, it is a comfortable trail, one that meanders through dense hardwood forest. Eventually the road dead ends, and a series of trails fan out from the cul-de-sac.

This is the trail junction at the end of Forest Road 217H. The trail for this hike is the one on the right, labelled 54A, and named the Bob Bald Connector Trail.

Now it’s time to climb. For the next two miles the trail gains more than 800 feet. There are occasional brief level stretches along the way, but if you just grit your teeth and prepare for the exertion, it will be over in about an hour. In the meantime, enjoy all the wonderful sights like massive chicken of the woods fungus and clusters of turks cap lilies. Ferns dominate each side of the trail, and this time of year they are bright, bright green.

The single-track trail gets considerably more narrow the higher you get… some due to the terrain, and some to the plants encroaching on the tread. As summer continues to progress, many of the berry-type plants make themselves known including carrion plant and witch hobble. The snake root was in abundance as well. About two thirds of the way up you will pass through a dense and dark rhododendron tunnel.

There are more rocks and roots too, so with the combination of overgrowth and tripping hazards, watch your step. An occasional seep will be enough to give your pooch a drink, but probably won’t refill your bottle. Speaking of our furry little friends, it was nice to once again have Cowboy the Australian cattle dog along to keep us all in line.

You can tell when you are almost to the top when you see tall grass along each side of the trail. It is spreading from the bald and is a nice signal that things are about to get exciting. You will first pop out of the woods to a small meadow on your right with a picturesque view of the Unicoi Mountains. There were hundreds of blooming phlox, a mere sampling of what was yet to come.

As we marched about another hundred yards we reached the true mountaintop, a broad open expanse of grassland that was awash in a radiant fuschia glow. This was the largest field of phlox I had ever witnessed! Tens of thousands of these beautiful native wildflowers filled the senses. Add to that hundreds of turks cap lilies for quite an array of color. Gretchen even found a teeny, tiny club spur orchid hiding deep within the mountain grass.

Marti and Gretchen entering Bob Bald, an ideal setting for an Appalachian version of The Sound of Music.

There are blueberries on Bob Stratton Bald too. They were still a month away from being ripe, but it looked like a healthy crop of the sweet tasting morsels. The elevation here is above 5,300′ and a delightful summer breeze kept us nice and cool as we found a semi-circle of logs to sit and have lunch. Off to the north are the massive shoulders of the Unicoi Mountains, and to the east the tall dead trunk of an oak with a rope dangling from the top. We called this the Hangman’s Tree. That’s the picture at the top of this post.

The bald is named for Robert Stratton (1825-1864), whose family lived there in the mid-19th century. Bob’s father John Stratton (1799–1862) settled in the area now known as Stratton Meadows (atop the main crest of the Unicois near where Cherohala Skyway crosses the state line) in the 1830s. Bob eventually moved a few miles north of Stratton Meadows to the mountain that now bears his name.

While on Bob Stratton Bald you are in the Joyce Kilmer-Slickrock Wilderness, designated in 1975 and totalling 17,394 acres. There are other pathways that reach the bald within the wilderness including from Wolf Laurel where the Bob Stratton Trail climbs up from the east, and another that climbs Fork Ridge from Swan Cabin. The Fodderstack Trail continues northward for several more miles along the state line to Big Fodderstack Mountain.

Guarding the north edge of the bald is a beautiful stand of fraser fir that was planted decades ago when the woolly adelgid first began to pillage the fir and hemlock in the Great Smoky Mountains. So far (knock on wood) these have avoided that nasty fate. We hated to leave Bob Stratton Bald. There are times when you are fortunate enough to be at a place on the perfect day for a seasonal display. That seemed to be the case for us on this day with the sensational natural garden.

We had a great memory to take with us as we returned the way we had come. The connector trail actually seemed steeper on the way down, so be aware of the potential wear and tear. Remember too, that some of the forest road goes gently uphill, so if you are tired you’ll notice it. On the way back I talked with some of the others about how to find the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest. I wanted to see the big poplars. As it turns out, it was quite easy and best of all, right along the way.

When we got back to Beech Gap I said a fond farewell to my Tennessee hiking partners with a promise to get together again soon. I drove down the Cherohala Skyway to the entrance, then took a left. From there it is only two miles to the memorial forest.

This forest is one of the Nation’s most impressive remnants of old growth. The woods contains magnificent examples of more than 100 tree species, many over 400-years-old, and some more than 20 feet in circumference and 100 feet tall.

This 3,800-acre forest was set aside in 1936 as a memorial to the author of the poem “Trees,” Joyce Kilmer, who was killed in action in France during World War I. This forest, part of the Joyce Kilmer-Slick Rock Wilderness, is maintained in its primitive state. The only way to see the forest is on foot. A 2-mile trail leads to the Joyce Kilmer Memorial and loops through the giant trees. Unfortunately, there aren’t as many as there were when the memorial was founded. The immense American chestnuts were the first to succumb to blight, and the hemlocks have most recently been devastated by the woolly adelgid. Only the big tulip poplars remain.

On the long drive back home I had plenty of time to reflect on this wonderful day. I have no doubt I will be back to this corner of Western North Carolina many times. It is quite a long way from my home, so it may be better with overnights included in the future. The Cheoah Ranger Station for Nantahala National Forest is right along the way west of Robbinsville.

There is still so much to see and do. I only began to scratch the surface of this remote region of wildernesses. I passed literally dozens of trailheads right off the roads to and from. If you live in Eastern Tennessee, Western North or South Carolina, or North Georgia or Alabama, I highly recommend you get a trail map that includes Joyce Kilmer-Slickrock Wilderness and Citico Creek Wilderness. Then, get out there.

This post was created by Jeff Clark. Please feel free to use the sharing icons below, or add your thoughts to the comments. Pack it in, pack it out. Preserve the past. Respect other hikers. Let nature prevail. Leave no trace.

When the Southern Appalachians are your home, the month of June simply isn’t complete without a visit to Roan Highlands for the annual rhododendron and azalea bloom. Like Julie Andrews sang years ago, “these are a few of my favorite things.” From the first time I set foot on Round Bald, I knew this was someplace special. The grassy ridge of the Highlands bald mountain tops runs for 14 miles, the longest stretch of unobstructed vistas on the entire Appalachian Trail. Add to that the brilliant colors of the flowers, and you will understand why this is a must see destination.

I have already written a trail report for Grassy Ridge in the Highlands. To learn how to get there, and where to hike, you can get all the details here. Rather than repeating the report, I wanted to share my photographic experiences from the most recent foray across the balds. This visit occurred on Wednesday, June 17, 2015.

I arrived approximately 7:45 AM to bright, glorious sunshine. It became apparent almost immediately that the catawba rhododendron blossoms were already gone. The Spring bloom season is fickle. Two years ago I visited Roan on June 19th, and was probably two days early for the peak bloom. This year June 17th was about four days too late. Not to worry though, the flaming azaleas were still out in abundance; and I found the elusive Grays Lily, the rare mountain perennial.

I hope you enjoy these recent photos from Roan Highlands. Feel free to leave your comments below the gallery.

The morning sun was just peaking over Round Bald when I arrived. It brought with it a summer breeze that added a wispiness to the native grass.

I’ve been to Roan Highlands for the June flowering three times now. This was my first Grays Lily. I was treated to another before the day was through.

I arrived on Grassy Ridge Bald about 10:00 AM, as did the clouds, first white, then grey.

Updated October 6, 2015: Autumn must mean it’s time for another visit to the Highlands, chasing the ever-illusive colors of the new season. Timing the Roan Highlands fall foliage chroma display is a fool’s-errand. It is never the same two years in a row. I started with a visit on September 28th, only to find a mountain covered in fog so thick that I was breathing moisture. Oh well, there’s always the exercise, I told my disappointed self.

Following a week of torrential downpour over the Southern Appalachians, it finally cleared on Monday, October 5th, so I was there ready and able the next morning. This time the weather totally cooperated. As you will see in the photos below, the sky was magnificent and the clear air enabled long distance viewing that extended well into Tennessee and maybe even beyond to Virginia. The coloring was a mixed bag of earth tones, some past peak, others yet to fully impress. Regardless, it was quite a distinction from my last spring-time visit in June.

I love the earthy tones color spectrum that Fall brings to the mountains.

Updated January 6, 2017: It seemed only natural to add a winter gallery of Roan Highlands. With that in mind, Ken and I set out in search of the white stuff. We didn’t find snow, but what we did find was a wonderland of rime ice, hoar frost, and frozen fog. The only downer was the thick clouds that had settled on the Highlands making long distance viewing impossible. Still, focusing at ground level revealed a world of ice at 6,000 feet.

The climb up Jane Bald was particularly rewarding. The alderberry, rhododendron, and azalea bushes were all covered with a thick coating of rime ice.

This post was created by Jeff Clark. Please feel free to use the sharing icons below, or add your thoughts to the comments. Pack it in, pack it out. Preserve the past. Respect other hikers. Let nature prevail. Leave no trace.

Northeast of Mars Hill, NC, the Big Bald Range straddles the Tennesssee/North Carolina border and marks the boundary between Pisgah and Cherokee National Forests. The Appalachian Trail (AT) follows the state line, as it does for nearly all its length between these two states. The destination for this hike is 5,516 foot Big Bald Mountain, another of the grassy balds that are common in this area. You can make your day as long or as short as you like by exploring the AT in either direction. At least be sure to also check out Big Stamp, another of the balds with a lengthy grassy ridge. This hike occurred on Tuesday, July 30, 2013 from 8:45am to 11:35am. Our plan was to take the Appalachian Trail over Big Stamp and Big Bald, and hike the AT for an hour or so.

If it’s a long section hike on the Appalachian Trail you’re looking for, you can access Big Bald Mountain from Sams Gap — where I-26 crosses the North Carolina/Tennessee state line. It’s a 13-mile round trip from there. From the northeast, you can also access the AT from Highway 19W, but the distance is about double.

The best way to get to Big Bald and Big Stamp is through the Wolf Laurel Resort community. From there, it’s little more than half a mile to the Big Bald summit. There’s just one hitch, though. Wolf Laurel is private property, with an entrance gate monitored by a security guard. So, you need to make arrangements with the resort’s administrative office before you go. Otherwise, you will be turned back at the gate.

Provided you’ve done your homework, once you clear security, you’ll drive through the Wolf Laurel community that includes a ski mountain and a country club. Follow Wolf Laurel Rd. to Big Bald Mountain Rd., then go all the way to the dead end. Park at the cul-de-sac and begin your hike through the gate on the gravel road. From there it is 1/4 mile to the Appalachian Trail.

For Meanderthals, this was another foray to the state line on the AT. It seems we’ve done quite a bit of exploring on the high mountain balds this summer, including Unaka Mountain earlier this month, and Roan Highlands during peak flowering season last month. Speaking of wildflowers, there was still quite a bit of bee balm blooming in this Big Bald area, of multiple colors.

Where the Appalachian Trail crosses the gravel road you have a choice. You can go left and immediately climb Big Bald, or you can go right and climb Big Stamp. We chose the latter. The sun was still low in the sky, so there was a delightful golden glow on the waist-high native grass that lined the trail. About once a month, trail angels come to the grassy balds with lawnmowers and string trimmers to keep an 8-foot-wide swath cropped, and easy to follow.

It was early enough that the morning fog was still hanging around — quite the sight watching it waft over and around the balds. Since long-distance viewing was muted by the fog, we decided to explore eastward on the trail, and come back to the balds later, once the fog had lifted. We encountered another pair of hikers, coming down from Big Stamp.

The morning dew tickled our legs as we crossed Big Stamp bald and entered the forest. The trail began a gradual descent, heading to the next gap between ridges. The forest here is primarily birch and beech. There was still mud on the trail from all the rains of July. This has been an incredibly rainy season in the Smoky Mountains with more than a foot of precipitation above the annual norms. At least there were no creek crossings today.

One thing the mud does is enable clear imprints of wildlife tracks. The unmistakable cloven hooves of deer were quite evident, as was the impression of a juvenile black bear. This area would also be a haven for wild turkey, so keep your eyes and ears peeled.

Half a mile into the forest we passed the spur trail to the AT Big Bald Mountain Shelter, and another quarter mile beyond that we came to a water source for the thru-hikers. If you plan on spending a few days in the Big Bald Range, keep these in mind.

We went just five minutes past the spring, decided not much was changing in the way of scenery, so we opted to reverse track and see if the fog had lifted around the balds. Sure enough, when we popped back out of the woods on the eastern end of Big Stamp, the low-lying fog had given way to that vaporous haze that gives the Smoky Mountains their name.

The AT takes a twisty path up the northeastern flank of Big Bald Mountain, cutting its way through shoulder-height berry bushes and other ubiquitous scrub. The trail itself is well maintained, albeit somewhat rocky. We didn’t encounter any areas of overgrowth on our climb to the summit.

It’s about a half mile from the gap between Big Stamp and Big Bald to the summit, climbing just under 600 feet along the way. It isn’t particularly difficult, so you should give this one a try, no matter your fitness level. The panoramic views from the top are definitely worth the exertion to get there.

We found a nice rocky outcropping on the east side of the summit for lunch, with a great view of Big Stamp and the surrounding Smoky Mountains. That’s the photo at the top of this post. Click it for a larger view. From here we could pick out Unaka Mountain to the northeast, with the town of Erwin below. The Tennessee tri-cities area is way off in the distance northward, and Roan Mountain is quite evident beyond and east of Unaka.

To the southeast are the imposing Black Mountains, including Mt. Mitchell. Despite the haze, the vistas were pretty good on this day. I suspect in winter you can probably see for 50 miles or more from Big Bald. I will keep this one in my tickler file for a December or January hike.

The Wolf Laurel community is perched on the hillsides to the southwest. Homes hug the rugged terrain. The ski mountain stands above the small village. I’ve never been skiing, so I can’t offer any info about conditions here. There look to be five primary slopes.

To the north and west is Tennessee, with more mountains as far as the eye can see. As you would surmise from the name, the rounded summit of Big Bald is quite large, covering perhaps a hundred acres. While we were enjoying lunch, an elderly couple joined us on the summit. Probably near 80, they made the climb with no problem. So see, you can do it.

The Big Bald Mountain gravel road comes all the way to the summit, so we decided to go back down that way. The road takes more of a northerly track off the mountain, whereas the AT is easterly. They both eventually end up at the same place, in the gap between Big Stamp and Big Bald.

To summarize, Big Bald is a great spot for those 360° panoramic views that are so photo friendly. You really get an idea of the beauty of the surrounding Smoky Mountains in every direction. If you only have a short amount of time, this is a quick hike to the summit of Big Bald. If you wish to make a day of it, take the Appalachian Trail in either direction for as far as you want to explore. Remember that Wolf Laurel is a private community, so if you access Big Bald through there, you must call ahead.

This post was created by Jeff Clark. Please feel free to use the sharing icons below, or add your thoughts to the comments. Pack it in, pack it out. Preserve the past. Respect other hikers. Let nature prevail. Leave no trace.

High above the community of Erwin, Tennessee, the Appalachian Trail follows the North Carolina / Tennessee state line through the Unaka Range. From a grassy bald ridge with the appropriate name Beauty Spot, to the summit of 5,184′ Unaka Mountain, the trail winds northeasterly for a 4-mile section through a continuously changing ecology. Stand on the bald with spectacular views of the Big Bald Mountains and the towns below, then follow the trail through woods filled with ferns to Deep Gap, another meadowy mountain bald, then onward for a near 1,600 foot climb to a dense spruce forest at the summit of the mountain range namesake. This hike occurred on Tuesday, July 16, 2013 from 8:00am to 12:30pm. Our plan was to access the Appalachian Trail at Beauty Spot along Forest Service Road 230, then follow it to the summit of Unaka Mountain, returning the same way.

From the moment I saw the trail climbing the hill, cutting through the tall grass, I knew this was going to be another of those typically outstanding Appalachian Trail (AT) section hikes. After getting all our gear together, my Meanderthal companion and I entered the pathway, almost like stepping onto the yellow brick road. I even started singing, “We’re off to see the wizard…” My friend retorted that there would be no dancing.

When we were driving up the gap from Erwin, we could tell the citizens really take pride in their homes. Every little house was painted just right. The lawns and landscaping were all well maintained and attractive. It’s a pleasant drive from town to wilderness. When you get to the top of Hwy 395 at Indian Grave Gap, take the left gravel road fork. Some descriptions I’ve read say Forest Road 230 is only accessible with high clearance vehicles. I had no problem with my Hyundai sedan.

It is about 150 yards from the parking area to the top of Beauty Spot. Once there, you are presented with magnificent views in every direction. To the west is Erwin, nestled comfortably in the valley below, with Johnson City 30 miles distant. Eastward is the Roan Highlands, that stunningly beautiful ridge at the eastern end of the Unaka Range where I had a delightful hike just a few short weeks ago. On this day it was surrounded by a bed of low-lying valley fog.

Off to the south are the massive peaks of the Big Bald Mountains, the ones we crossed to get from our home in North Carolina to this Beauty Spot. The AT comes from there, and continues to the north where we could see the rounded top of Unaka Mountain, our destination for this hike.

We were certainly tempted to just keep hanging out at Beauty Spot because of the, um, beauty, but we had an appointment with Unaka Mountain. And, we would be back this way at the end of the hike. It’s just a couple hundred yards downhill to the forest, and a fern-lined trail. There were still wildflowers in abundance, even this deep into the summer. We came upon the brightest orange fungus I’ve ever seen, about the size of a soccer ball, clinging to a rotting log.

This was also a good day for wildlife. We’d seen a fawn driving up the forest road, and here in the dense forest, we startled a number of grouse. It seemed every hundred steps we stirred up another one or two. I have to admit being equally startled myself. They sure make a lot of racket when fleeing from the big, bad AT hikers.

The grouse were only a preview however. Another half mile down the trail we surprised a wild turkey hen. Those flapping wings had me jumping for cover. She did stick around close enough for me to capture her portrait.

For a good portion of this stretch of the AT, the trail hugs the forest road. On the other side of the road is the Unaka Mountain Wilderness boundary. There are several trails to hike located in the wilderness, so no doubt we will be back sometime. About 1.2 miles from Beauty Spot the AT pops out of the woods again at Deep Gap, a smaller meadow that offers a clear view of the summit of Unaka Mountain.

You can follow the ridge line with your eye to approximate the trail route up to the top. There are a couple of campsites in Deep Gap, nice spots for the AT thru-hikers who come this way in the spring. As you re-enter the forest on the eastern side of the meadow, the work begins. From here it’s 1,600 feet of climbing.

The terrain here is rocky, and rooty, so watch your step. The ground cover changes from plush green grass, to ferns, and assorted weedy botany. You pass through tunnels of rhododendron and laurel, and big oak shade trees that keep the air pleasantly cool, even in the depth of summer.

As the trail gets near 4,800 feet you begin to see the forest change. The evergreens are mostly spruce, the black balsam variety, with some fir mixed in as well. As you continue higher, the ground has a thick covering of needles and bright green moss, making the track spongy. If not for all the exposed roots, I’d be tempted to take the shoes and socks off to feel the cushiony turf on my toes.

The summit of Unaka Moutain is a large rounded spruce forest. We found a nice comfy spot just off the trail for lunch. Enjoying the refreshing breeze as much as our nourishment, we were in sensory overload. The songbirds were in full force, the scent of the evergreens was heavenly, the moss and spruce needles cushioned our derrieres, and close surveying of the surrounding space revealed spider webs, snails, and butterflies.

Ready to turn around and head for home, I paused a moment to leave a summit stone. The temperature was beginning to warm, yet still an absolutely gorgeous day. I thought of the folks in the desert southwest and New England sweltering in the summer heat. Another advantage of life in the Appalachians.

The mountain seemed a little steeper on the downhill path. I found myself stumbling several times on the many exposed roots and rocks that make footing on the trail a haphazard proposition. I made sure to drink plenty of water just in case my balance issues had something to do with my hydration. We passed a couple guys coming up the trail, one from Atlanta, the other from Johnson City.

After half an hour of descent, we again reached Deep Gap. Since our first foray through, the bright sunshine had opened a whole field of white wildflowers including the lacey yarrow. I never cease to be amazed how out and back hikes can be so different. In the early morning light, the flower blossoms hadn’t yet awakened, but now they were displaying their full efflorescent glory.

It’s a bit of a climb back up from Deep Gap to Beauty Spot, close to 300 feet. By the time we got back to Beauty Spot, the clouds were now above us rather than below us, creating a picturesque perspective for the mountain peaks. We studied the topographic map for awhile, picking a future adventure on the distant Big Bald Mountain to the south.

We stayed on the bald for 15-20 minutes, totally enjoying the sun, the breeze, the scenery, and the Appalachian Trail. I’ve done quite a bit of section hiking the AT this year, always completely inspiring. The bald ridges along the Tennessee / North Carolina state line are particularly impressive. I’m an absolute fan.

The other pair of hikers caught up with us and asked if we had left a summit stone. Why yes, yes we had. The fellow who found it said he had heard of summit stones for years, but this was his first find. He was very grateful. Kinda cool, I thought. It was my first experience speaking with someone who recovered one of DSD’s creations.

This post was created by Jeff Clark. Please feel free to use the sharing icons below, or add your thoughts to the comments. Pack it in, pack it out. Preserve the past. Respect other hikers. Let nature prevail. Leave no trace.

Located along the North Carolina/Tennessee state line, and where Pisgah and Cherokee National Forests merge, Grassy Ridge in the Roan Highlands is the longest stretch of grassy balds in the Appalachian Mountains. The Appalachian Trail navigates this stunning ridge, hopping from Carvers Gap to Round Bald to Jane Bald, and on to the 6,169 foot Grassy Ridge Bald. The Highlands are a haven for wildlife, and mountain bushes like rhododendron, flame azalea, and green alder. Rare flowers are found here as well, including species such as spreading avens, Blue Ridge goldenrod, Gray’s lily and mountain bluet. There are clear views of Grandfather Mountain and the peaks of Linville Gorge to the east, and Mt. Mitchell and the Black Mountains to the south. In short, the Roan Highlands area is a must see. This hike occurred on Wednesday, June 19, 2013 from 8:30am to 1:15pm. My plan was to follow the Appalachian Trail from Carvers Gap across the three balds of Grassy Ridge, then explore more of Roan Mountain as time, and weather, permitted.

This is a hike I’ve wanted to do for quite some time, but just never seemed to get it together. It’s in a very remote area, and a long way from my home (about two hours), so I always seemed to talk myself out of it for regions with easier access. The time factor seems silly because I’ve made the effort to go to other wild places that were at least as far. Well, now that I’ve finally been, it’s not so tough to get there after all, and I’ve truly been depriving myself of one of Western North Carolina’s most remarkable gems.

When I arrived at Carvers Gap on the North Carolina/Tennessee state line just past 8:00 AM, there were already a couple dozen people milling about the parking area, and much to my surprise, the parking along the highway was already full. Well, I thought, I guess that’s what you get at peak rhododendron season. I would learn later that something else was up. Eventually I discovered there’s a whole other parking lot off the main highway, and all was good.

About that parking though, there seems to be about 60-70 spaces, but it’s a good idea to get there early in the morning, especially during busy visitor seasons like June and October. When I finished my hike just past 1:00 in the afternoon, the parking was crammed and Carvers Gap was a trafficky mess.

I couldn’t quite figure why everyone was just hanging out, but I could see if I got my pack and camera gear together quickly, that I could beat them all onto the trail. And the last thing I wanted was to get behind a mob of people starting out. The Appalachian Trail (AT) trailhead is just across the road on the east side. So off I went, somewhat confused, but tickled that I wouldn’t be behind this big crowd of folks with unknown intentions.

Because of the popularity, the trail track here is a light gravel with borders on each side, kinda like you might see in a city park. Fancy. The trail switches back on a grassy hillside, going in and out and around clusters of rhododendron shrubs as it leaves the cars, and people, at Carvers Gap behind. It took me less than 15 minutes, and only a couple hundred feet of climbing, to realize that Roan Highlands is a very special place.

This is high country, with clear air, crystal blue sky, dazzling emerald green grasses that conjure images of Ireland, and long-distance views to the south and southwest of the blanket of valley fog. It’s why they call them the Smoky Mountains. It became apparent early on that I might as well just leave the camera on the tripod and carry it, rather than putting it away in the pack each time I moved on. This was going to be a fantastic day.

After catching my breath from the sheer stunning beauty of the southern vista, I proceeded to the next curiosity. The trail winds through a dark and mysterious spruce-fir forest tightly packed with black balsam spruce and Fraser fir. There are large igneous rocks on either side of the path, and that heavenly aroma from the evergreen needles and bark. Quite the contrast from the brightness of the meadow to the gloomy stroll through the conifers.

Just about the time my pupils were adjusting to the pitch of the forest, the trail was back out in the light in another series of rhododendron bushes. These are the catawba variety (rhododendron catawbiense), a dense shrub with evergreen leaves, and numerous violet-purple flower clusters bigger than your fist. The fruit is a dry capsule with numerous small seeds. They are really quite lovely, and there are more natural rhododendrons in the Roan Highlands than anywhere else in the world.

The trail continues climbing Round Bald up a series of steps about 20 feet apart. There are more terrific views of the southern mountains, and then eventually, the Tennessee side of the ridge comes into view. On this particular day, that side was even more socked in. The clouds were boiling like a witches cauldron, occasionally rolling up and over the bald.

I reached the summit of Round Bald, 5,826 feet, and was in awe of the panorama of Smoky Mountains surrounding me. The bald is aptly named. It’s like standing on a massive basketball with grass. The top is truly round. As I approached the eastern side I could see down into Engine Gap, the path of the trail a half mile away. Clouds were wafting through the gap on a race from Tennessee to North Carolina.

A series of switchbacks aids the descent eastward, and brings the trail closer to the edge of the forest where there is a plethora of flame azalea bushes. Much as the western slope was alive with the pink/magenta catawbas, this eastern side of Round Bald is lush with rhododendron calendulaceum. The flowers of this deciduous shrub are larger than most other native azaleas, measuring from 1.5 to 2.5 inches across, and come in a wide range of colors from ochreous yellow, through various shades of orange, almost red even. A number of the blooms on the balds are a blazing bicolored orange.

Dropping about two hundred feet from Round Bald into Engine Gap, I entered a sea of yellow hawkweed. In the late 19th century, a steam engine was setup in the gap between Round Bald and Jane Bald by logging companies (hence the name, Engine Gap) to move lumber from the Tennessee side to the mills located on the North Carolina side. Thanks to the efforts of land conservation since, I could enjoy hawkweed instead of locomotives.

I took a glance behind me to enjoy the rhodo and azalea gardens on the eastern grade of Round Bald, and wait… What is that? Is that sheep up on the mountain? I dialed in the zoom on my camera to get a closer look. Sure looks like sheep.

Not long afterward another hiker caught up to me and I asked him if he saw the sheep behind us. He said, “Those aren’t sheep. They’re goats. We’re herding them up in the highlands for summer. When the goats approach you, you don’t want to be in front of them because it spooks them. It makes them want to scatter. So you might want to setup your camera over there on the side and catch them as they come by.”

Cool! What dumb luck! I quickly learned that I just happened to pick the day to be at Roan Highlands when they were bringing the goats up for the summer Baatany Project. Despite the somewhat cheesy name, apparently this is the sixth year of the Baatany Project, a volunteer-based effort to restore the Grassy Bald corridor on Roan Mountain using goats as an experimental management tool. Could this day get any more perfect?

A bell dinged in my head. Now I understood why all those people were milling around at Carvers Gap. They were waiting for the goats to arrive for the drive up the balds. Unknowingly I had become a part of this year’s Baatany Project. So I spent the next half hour on the side of the trail taking pictures of the nearly two dozen goats and at least twice as many volunteers as they herded into a fenced area on Jane Bald. The babies came last.

Well, that was exciting. Now it was time to climb up Jane Bald for the next surprise. Unlike Round Bald, Jane Bald is nearly covered with granite and rhododendron. The trail is steeper, and carved through a forest of shrubs that also includes green alder, a large bush with flowers known as catkins, oblong and almost berry-like.

Jane Bald is smaller than the others, and six feet lower than Round Bald at 5,820 feet. The views however, are fantastic. To the west is Round Bald with Roan High Knob and Roan High Bluff beyond. To the east is the continuation of Grassy Ridge onward to Grassy Ridge Bald. To the south are the Black Mountains, including Mt. Mitchell, and to the north are the Smokies of Tennessee and Roan Mountain State Park.

The summit of Jane Bald is where the goats were penned for now. They are herded by a gorgeous Great Pyrenees. I happened to catch one of the principals of the Baatany Project and asked how often they come up to relocate the portable fences from bald to bald. About every 10 days he said. This particular breed of goat loves the Canadian blackberry, an invasive species to the Roan Highlands. Clearing that, and keeping the natural grasses “mown” are the primary jobs of the goats.

The southeastern slope of Jane Bald has a large rocky outcropping that is ideal for camera work, and nearly the entire eastern side is literally covered with blooming rhododendron and azalea. Later, from almost a mile away, this eastern face of Jane Bald appeared lit up with pink and orange. Stunning.

The gap between Jane and Grassy Ridge Balds dips a couple hundred feet, much like Engine Gap did. At the base of the gap is a trail junction. The Appalachian Trail continues around the next bald to the left, and a spur trail heads southeasterly up the side of Grassy Ridge Bald. I wanted to check out both, so I chose the AT first. I went about a half mile through thick rhodo thickets, passing the northern flank of Grassy Ridge, with views deep into the Smokies of Tennessee.

I passed a spring on the right, learning later that this is where the goat keepers collect water for the dog, and also hopped over a small queen snake sunning on the trail. When the AT began heading steeply down, I decided it was time to turn around and do my additional climbing on Grassy Ridge.

The spur trail up Grassy Ridge Bald is the most difficult section of this hike. It is a very narrow, rocky trenched channel that climbs 500 feet through thick rhododendron and alder scrub. The end result is definitely worth the effort, however, as Grassy Ridge Bald is unbelievably even more beautiful that Round and Jane Balds were. This trip just kept getting better and better.

Cronk. Cronk. Cronk. The tell-tale sound of ravens hovering above me was a warm welcome to the next bald on the menu. I paused to watch them floating on the breeze, swooping below the horizon then drifting back up to silhouette the clouds.

Grassy Ridge Bald is several hundred acres of green, green grassland, surrounded by spruce and rhododendron, simply stunning. Far to the east is the Grandfather Mountain massif, and the peaks of Linville Gorge, Hawksbill and Tablerock. There is a large rock outcropping near the 6,189′ summit with an imbedded plaque honoring Cornelius Rex Peake, operater of the highest cultivated farm in the U.S. east of the Rocky Mountains, and very instrumental in bringing the conservation movement to Roan Mountain.

This looked like a perfect spot for lunch. Since I left Jane Bald, I had separated myself from most of the other folks who only came to help with the Baatany Project. It became apparent who the other day hikers were as a few stopped by to break bread with me at the outcropping. One couple was from Boone, and I also met a professional photographer from Nashville who gave me several tips about when and where for Roan Highlands pictures.

He told me about the next ridge over, what he described as a “purple mountain.” I certainly wanted to see that, so after wrapping up lunch I continued southeast across the acres of grass toward another series of outcrops on the other side. Then, peaking out through a few spruce and fir, there is was. The entire face of Bear Ridge was awash in the violet/purple of catawba rhododendron. It totally beat anything I had ever seen at Craggy Gardens or elsewhere in the Blue Ridge or Smokies.

The entire length of the Roan Mountain grassy balds covers seven miles and crosses five different summits. Perhaps some other time I will continue on the AT over Yellow Mountain and Hump Mountain. But on this day, I was totally content to conclude my exploration at the end of Grassy Ridge. What a treat I’d had, and I still would get to see it all over again on the way back.

By now, the morning valley fog had lifted on both sides of the ridge, presenting higher clouds and a horizon level haze. Even more of the bicolored azalea had popped out from the afternoon sunshine, and I could see lines of hikers marching like ants two miles away on Round Bald. Yes, Grassy Ridge is a popular and special place, but it is roomy enough to not seem crowded. There is plenty of space for everyone to enjoy their own little mellow haven.

By the time I got back to my car, I had traveled six miles and taken nearly five hours to do it. That should be an indicator of just how much there is to enjoy on Grassy Ridge. You could certainly do this round trip hike in less than three hours, but why would you. There is so much to see, so much to ponder, so much to breathe, so much essence.

While there, I figured I might as well visit the Rhododendron Gardens located in the gap between Roan High Knob and Roan High Bluff. This is a $3.00 fee area that includes the Cloudland Trailhead, which crosses the Gardens and ascends the western slope of Roan High Bluff to an observation platform just below the summit. This is also the former site of the Cloudland Hotel (c. 1885-1910) at Tollhouse Gap, billed as a very ritzy health resort, especially for those suffering from hay fever. There are numerous camping sites if you want to make a mini-vacation of your visit to Roan Mountain.

Best Hike When I was standing on Grassy Ridge Bald surveying the flowers in full bloom, the large expanse of verdant grassland, 6,000 foot mountains in all directions … I came to the conclusion this is the most beautiful place I have been in all of Southern Appalachia. I’ve seen stunning scenes in West Virginia and Shenandoah, in Eastern Tennessee and the Great Smoky Mountains, in Western North Carolina and along the Blue Ridge, but they all stand a step behind the Roan Highlands. I simply can’t wait to go back — I’m already researching when the peak autumn leaf season is. Label this one the best hike I have done so far in WNC, and definitely the most beautiful among many delightful sections along the Appalachian Trail. So treat yourself, and make an entire day of it. You will be amazed, and thrilled.

I’ve posted more pictures than usual below. It was such a perfect day that I had a lot to choose from. They are sorted sequentially from the start of the day, to the end. Just click on any of the thumbnails for a slideshow that is scroll-able forward or back. I hope the photos leave you with a sense of what a remarkable place the Roan Highlands truly is.

Updated October 15, 2013 — I mentioned above that I planned on returning to Grassy Ridge and the Roan Highlands in October to enjoy the autumnal coloring. And so I did. While I did find some color, as you will see in the pictures below, it’s hard to predict that perfect peak time when the hills are a total chromatic sensation.

It seemed the North Carolina side of the ridge was past peak with its browns and other earth tones. Conversely, the Tennessee side of the ridge was probably still 4-7 days away from the brightest colors. Go figure. I suppose the difference lies in being on the southern or northern side of Roan Mountain.

Regardless, I again had an absolutely splendid day. The weather was ideal for hiking — temps in the high 50s with a light breeze — and those of us who traversed the Appalachian Trail that day weren’t hassled by any law enforcement for being on the trail during the government shutdown.

Enjoy the photos. Compare the scenery to the ones above from mid-June. What a difference the season makes.

This post was created by Jeff Clark. Please feel free to use the sharing icons below, or add your thoughts to the comments. Pack it in, pack it out. Preserve the past. Respect other hikers. Let nature prevail. Leave no trace.

Usually when you come here you will find a cheerful description of a scenic hike that was fun, and that I recommend for your enjoyment. Instead, I am going to suggest that you stay away from this hike if you value your safety and security. The Brush Creek and Burnett Gap Trails are so terribly maintained as to make them virtually impassible. I’m sure at one time these trails near the French Broad River were quite exhilarating. There are some impressive views of the surrounding mountains from the Brush Creek Ridge. However, this is an example of what can happen when Forest Service funding is cut and the nearby area is impoverished. Potential trail volunteers have more pressing matters to attend to in their everyday lives. This hike occurred on Thursday, April 26, 2012 from 11:00am to 3:45pm. Our plan was to take Logging Road 5105 off Forest Road 209 to the Brush Creek Trail, then follow the Brush Creek Ridge to Logging Road 5103. The road would then meet the Burnett Gap Trail for a return to Forest Road 209.

The drive from our home in Western North Carolina just across the border into Tennessee is roughly 90 minutes, most of it on Hwy 25/70. We passed through the quaint mountain town of Hot Springs, a popular spot for Appalachian Trail through hikers. Perhaps we should have known by the early warning signs what was to be in store for us this day. About half way there the sky opened up. As they say, it was raining cats and dogs. Turns out maybe we were fortunate that torrential rain was all we saw as the region was ripped by high wind and large hail. The debris would be evident later all over the roads.

The next warning sign was the bridge across the French Broad River. It was closed for construction. Fortunately, there was another bridge about 5 miles west on Fugate Road. Since it was still raining hard we needed to kill a little time, so we took a drive through the bottomland town of Del Rio and up a forest road on Round Mountain. This road went on seemingly forever, but we did find a nice clearing for pictures of Neddy Mountain across the French Broad valley. That’s what you see at the top of this post.

We crossed the river on Hwy 107 and headed back east on 25/70 toward the other bridge. Just on the north side of the construction is Forest Road 209, our entrance into Cherokee National Forest. Immediately we were stymied by a very large downed branch lying squarely across the road. This had been quite a storm. Working as a team we were able to drag it to the side and continue on our merry, but clueless way.

Our intention was to start on the Burnett Gap Trail and do a clockwise loop, but we never saw the trailhead. Later, when we exited this point we could see why. We reached Allen Branch Pond — at the other end of the loop — and decided to change to a counter-clockwise hike rather than backtracking to search for Burnett Gap. Just a short hundred yards or so past the pond, Logging Road 5105 takes off to the northwest. That would be our starting point.

The beginning was innocuous enough. The road/trail was covered with a soft, thick grass that was colored in that delightful bright spring green. Other than the occasional downed tree across the road, it was a nice track. The road dead ends after about three-quarters mile and we had to hunt for the Brush Creek trailhead. Eventually we found it at the north corner of the cul-de-sac formed by the end of the road. As it isn’t very well marked, it’s likely you will go past it as we did.

The Brush Creek Trail begins climbing immediately to the north, up Brush Creek Mountain. Over the next couple miles we would climb from 1600 feet to the summit of the mountain at 2690. But a good portion of that would be without advantage of a trail. You see, the trail is so overgrown to be very difficult to follow. From the charred embers on the ground, and the blackened trunks of trees, it was apparent there had been a prescribed burn in this area of the national forest within the past couple years. The brush, including laurels and wild berry varieties, was returning healthy and dense. Without the occasional hard-to-find faded-yellow blaze markers we would have had no clue where the trail was.

Compound that with a very large number of downed trees across the trail from years past, and it was extremely difficult to keep our bearings. It didn’t take long before the compasses came out of our packs and into our pockets. We are firm believers in Leave No Trace, so we don’t like to go off trail and tromp on the ecosystem. We simply couldn’t help it as it was next to impossible to stay on the trail. In a series of switchbacks, a few times we completely lost the trail. We would look up the mountain for a rim and head that direction. Lucky for us, our years of experience proved beneficial as those rims represented the edge of the trail bed.

As the trail approaches the summit of the Brush Creek Ridge, it makes a hard turn to the left, generally west-southwest. The deciduous forest opens for a bit to provide a picturesque view of the Meadow Creek Mountains away to the north. The sky was darkening again, and we needed nourishment after the hard climb, so it was time to pull up some rocks and have lunch. We studied the map and compass and debated whether to continue or turn back. Heck, the trail couldn’t get any worse, right? What do you think we did? We are Meanderthals, after all. Yes, we decided to push on. Little did we know what was in store.

It was about the time we reached the second summit along Brush Creek Ridge that the trail quality got even worse. The brush was thicker and now a heavy woodland of immature trees spanned the trail, right at face level. We were literally knocking them to the side with our arms and elbows. Meanwhile, the briars and brambles were grabbing at our legs. Wouldn’t you know I chose to wear shorts when I dressed in the morning, so now my shins were one big scratch. Just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.

We completely lost the trail. Between the downed timber blocking the trail at every turn, and the ground-level overgrowth in each direction, the trail was gone. We made a 100 foot loop looking for blaze marks on every tree, to no avail. Keeping our wits about us, we remembered the 10 Essentials. We took mental inventory of our supplies, and most important to us at this moment was navigation; our map and compass. To top it all off, there was a fog and mist moving in, as well as darkening clouds to the west.

We studied the map thoroughly. As long as we continued in a southwesterly direction, down the ridge, we had to eventually meet the eastern fork of Logging Road 5103, our connector to the Burnett Gap Trail. Even if we strayed a little west or south, the road was at the bottom of the ridge. Now the question became, what is between here and there? We inspected the topo lines carefully, looking for a cliff that would impede our descent. We could see it was steep, but there didn’t appear to be any abutments. How about creeks? Yes, we would cross Bryant Hollow. We just had to hope it would be passable.

And so we set out. No kidding about the steep part. We dropped 800 feet in about a half mile, without a trail to slow our descent. The wet leaves covering the wet rocks and the decaying wood were slippery. The brush was constantly tugging at our ankles. I couldn’t tell you how many times I had to re-tie my shoe laces. There was a saving grace though, to keep our attitude positive. The mountain laurel were just a week away from sharing their full regalia, so the pink blossoms were a beautiful sign of encouragement. And then we reached the hollow.

It was dark and dreary, and ominous. We were in a bowl, with nowhere to go but up. We found a log to sit on and pulled out the map again. The same applied now as before. If we continued south to southwest, we had to meet the logging road. I took a little extra time to think about how I was prepared if we got completely lost. I had plenty of supplies, but I was mostly worried about the weather. There were more storms forecast. Oh well, there were still about five hours of daylight left, so I put on my positive face and followed my companion.

We climbed above the creek, then skirted the hillside in a southerly direction for little more than a few hundred yards, and then YAHOO! There ahead was the logging road, and we caught a break. As we headed east on the track, it turned out that we were only a tenth mile from Burnett Gap Trail. How lucky could we get? Be warned though. There is no trail marker here, so we had to presume this was the junction we wanted. When seeing the first yellow blaze mark a couple hundred feet later we breathed easier. Too bad the trails are both blazed yellow though. It can be confusing.

We had one final climb facing us, about 400 feet. By now, I was definitely weary from all the bushwhacking. This additional steep climb did nothing for my resolve. At least my friend admitted he was tired as well, so I knew it wasn’t just me. I took encouragement from that in some convoluted way. The Burnett Gap Trail started out pretty good. At least we could see it.

Notice I said started out. It didn’t take long before this trail was just as hard to track as the other. More downed trees, more overgrown brush, more faded blaze markings. It’s been a long, long time since this area of Cherokee National Forest has had any serious trail maintenance performed. It is in a very remote area, so I suspect there isn’t much local population base to pull volunteers from. Combine that with abject Appalachian poverty and perhaps it becomes understandable.

To keep our spirits up we would holler out “Yellow!” every time we saw a blaze marking, and you know what? We made it. The bottom section of the Burnett Gap Trail is perhaps a mile long in total, then it pops out on Forest Road 209. I turned to look at the trailhead to see why we missed it when driving by in the morning. The trail marker was half blown away by shotgun blasts and the foliage was completely grown up around the turf. It was hard to see just standing there 10 feet away.

It was still a two mile walk back to Allen Branch Pond and the car, but by now we were tickled pink to be on solid ground in a place that we recognized. A gravel forest road never looked so good. We said our appropriate thanks for getting out of the situation safely and without injury, and before dark and the next wave of storms. On the drive back to North Carolina we got dumped on again.

Warning! I suggest you think long and hard before attempting this hike. In it’s present condition, it simply isn’t safe. It’s too easy to get lost. It’s too easy to get hurt. It’s too easy to panic and make poor decisions. Thank goodness for my years of experience, and for even more experience from my friend. If you are a novice hiker DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS HIKE! Despite our experience we found ourselves in a situation we don’t like to be in. This was an excellent reminder how important a map and compass are, especially when you’re going somewhere you’ve never been. It was a good alert for me to not become complacent about The Ten Essentials.

This post was created by Jeff Clark. Please feel free to use the sharing icons below, or add your thoughts to the comments. Pack it in, pack it out. Preserve the past. Respect other hikers. Let nature prevail. Leave no trace.