Remote. This little slice of Nantahala National Forest is truly far from anything. Once you are a mile into the woods from the trailhead, there is next to no evidence of human activity. It’s hard to know how many folks come here to hike, but there aren’t many boot prints in the mud. There are, however, plenty of deer tracks… and wildflowers. Wow, are there wildflowers. From Sugar Creek Gap there are great views of the Blue Ridge to both the north and the south, then the hiking is through a dense forest comprised of mostly oak, birch and sourwood. Ken and I set out from Sugar Creek Gap on FR 4675 on Monday, June 12, 2017 beginning at 9:45AM and ending about 12:30PM. Our plan was to hike FR 4675 to FR 4675a, then search for a purported meadow somewhere below the forest road.

Before I go any further, I want to give a tip of the cap to Brenda Wiley, who turned me on to Sugar Creek Gap. She posted some photos from there a few days before I went, intriguing me. When I asked her a few questions, she sent me directions to get there, her GPS track, and plenty of other info to help me know what to expect. Thanks so much Brenda!

Sugar Creek Gap is truly out in the boonies. It is more than eight miles up SR 1756 and then another three up the very twisty FR 4665. There are occasional reminders that people used to live here a century ago, and even a few that look like they may still be active. But for the most part, this is one of those places where you hope you can remember how to get back home once you’re done.

The gap itself is pretty obvious when you get there. It is steep on the way up and then it tops a rise, going steeply down on the other side. There are a few white boulders that denote parking, but they are almost completely grown over with summer foliage… an indication that the Forest Service does not come around here for maintenance. Additionally, there is a tall stand of pine here, unusual considering the rest of the forest.

The trail, actually former Forest Road 4675, is grown over as well. It is at the back of the parking, heading west. The FR sign and gate are 100 feet up the trail (road). We were treated right away to a colorful display of what was coming, a wide variety of wildflowers, including crown vetch, venus pride, and purple flowering raspberry. The best, and really only, views of the surrounding mountains are seen from Sugar Creek Gap itself, so be sure to take a few pictures.

For the first mile of this hike you will remain on FR 4675. After about a quarter mile, it turns to the northwest, goes westerly again, and then makes a dip to the southwest. At the three quarters mile mark it again heads to the northwest. Along the way, look for seasonal bright orange flaming azalea trees up on the bank that lines the pathway. Also you are likely to see plenty of daisies and goats beard, as well as occasional honeysuckle.

Apparently there are a number of springs and seeps coming off the hillsides because much of this trail is quite wet and muddy. There had not been any significant rainfall for at least a couple days before we were there, so this was not puddles. The ground is quite soft and squishy, and saturated. Be prepared for gnats too. Lots of gnats.

It is hard to tell just how long it has been since this trail was maintained. Perhaps 20 years? The pathway is still obvious because of the terrain, but it is becoming more and more overgrown with the passage of time. After all, this used to be a forest road. These days it is not much more than a game trail.

At least in the late spring and early summer months, expect to find an overgrown trail.

Just past one mile look for a left turn onto FR 4675a. There is no sign here, but the junction is reasonably apparent. Approximately 25 feet after you turn there is an old rusty post that used to hold up a gate. We found a dazzling array of sun cups here, and the first of what would be thousands of bowman root, a delicate star-shaped white flower.

The forest is suddenly more dense as you make this southerly turn onto 4675a. It surrounds and swallows the trail. The understory is a verdant bed of ferns, and the pathway is covered with last years acorns from the mighty oaks that dominate the woods. After perhaps three-tenths of a mile, the trail makes a distinct turn to the west as the terrain drops steeply down to your left.

Brenda had told me that somewhere out here is a sizable meadow. That was our goal, as we were hoping to find an open spot for views of the Blue Ridge, and perhaps a nice place for lunch. As we proceeded in a westerly direction, we kept our eyes peeled for evidence of this meadow, and for perhaps a game or volunteer trail that would lead us to it.

At one point we even got off trail for awhile, hoping that our turn downhill would lead us to the meadow. We did find a bare slab of exposed granite bedrock, but it was no more that a couple hundred square feet in size. We kept running into small cliffs and other abutments, making it difficult to continue in a southerly direction, so we climbed back up to trail level and continued west.

All the while the trail was becoming more and more indistinct. Ferns not only lined the pathway, they were the pathway. Really, the only way we could tell we were on the former roadbed was because of the grading. Despite our lack of success finding a way to the hidden meadow, we were treated to a forest flourishing in flame azalea and mountain laurel in full bloom. We also found fly poison and beardtongue, wild geranium, rattlesnake weed and bowman root in every direction.

If you look at the satellite map of our GPS track above, you can definitely find the meadow in the lower left corner. And, you can see our track perhaps 50-80 yards above it on the ridge. Just east of the meadow is where we made the southerly jaunt off trail, but found no easy way to get down off the ridge.

Eventually we gave up looking, found a nice rock to sit on, and had lunch. On the way back, we continued to look for ways to go south, but it was simply not meant to be. Perhaps it would be easier during the brown season.

Our trip back was uneventful. Even more wildflowers were in bloom, soaking in the late morning sunshine. The wide array of flowers is what I will remember most about this hike around Sugar Creek Gap. They made this adventure quite enjoyable.

Summarizing, this is an extremely remote area of Nantahala National Forest. The only sounds you will hear are the birds singing and the breeze flitting through the treetops. If you’re here during the green season be sure to wear long pants and long sleeves because of the foliage, and also bring bug repellent because the gnats are prevalent. To the point where we turned around, this is a touch more than four miles round trip and easy hiking. I’m thinking I would like to come back in winter. With the leaves down, there would be more views of the mountains and the elusive meadow might be a snap to find.

Once again, thanks to Brenda Wiley for telling us about Sugar Creek Gap.

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.

Love the high country in summer. It’s like getting an extra month of spring. For much of its length through the Western North Carolina mountains, the Mountains to Sea Trail parallels the Blue Ridge Parkway. There is an area near mile marker 434 on the Parkway, beneath Old Bald, where the MST winds through mixed forest and high mountain meadows teeming with wildflowers. The air is cool and the vistas impressive here in the Great Balsam Mountains. There are also plenty of old logging roads making this playground one that is suited for exploration. The region is adjacent to the Nantahala Game Lands, so be aware of seasonal hunters, otherwise you are likely to have the trail all to yourself. Dave and I explored the Mountains to Sea Trail beneath Old Bald on Friday, July 8, 2016 beginning at 10:00AM and ending about 12:45PM. Our plan was to take the Mountains to Sea Trail to Old Bald Ridge and Earl Ammons meadow, then return.

We started our day by driving up Scenic Hwy 276 through Pisgah National Forest and up the Pisgah Ridge to the Blue Ridge Parkway. From there it was 21 miles of picturesque mountain scenery to our destination. Along the way we stopped at overlooks for pictures and breathtaking views. Some of the sights we stopped to look at included Pilot Mountain, the Middle Prong watershed, the Cowee Mountains, and the highest point on the BRP at Richland Balsam. We were already having a delightful day even before we hit the trail.

The trailhead for this stretch of the Mountains to Sea sits in a blind hairpin curve at mile 434.2 on the Parkway. It isn’t a formal overlook, merely a grassy area beside the roadway with just enough room for two cars. Be careful when you pull over because of the blind curve. Traffic could be coming the other way. You will know you have the right spot if you see an iron t-bar about 30 feet up the trail.

It was great to have Dave’s friendly companion Grace the Wonder Dawg back on the trail with us. Grace had been nursing a sore paw for a few weeks, so I was happy to see she was back… ready and raring to go.

High above you on the north side of the Parkway are the sheer granite cliffs of Old Bald. The trail immediately dives into a mixed forest and then turns south. After about a hundred feet, the Mountains to Sea Trail comes up from below on your right, and the trails merge. Watch for white blaze marks and the occasional concrete trail marker to stay on the MST.

The first half mile into the woods I’m going to call the monarda trail. Lined on both sides were hundreds of white and lavender monarda wildflowers, also known as bee balm or bergamot. Some people even call it horse mint. There is bound to be quite a history for this flower to have so many names. We also began to notice the first of what would become many phlox.

Watch for the occasional campsite alongside the trail. If you’re an MST thru-hiker or simply looking for a quiet place to settle down in the high mountain woods, these sites are really ideal.

Just past a half mile we reached an obvious fork in the road, so to speak. There were no trail markers, but it was obvious from previous traffic that there was a choice here. We knew from talking to Rich and Cindy that the MST plunged through a mountain meadow on the left heading eastward. But we wanted to explore a larger field that we could see less than a mile away toward the south. So we opted for the right fork.

As we progressed, this path was more and more grown up with tall plants bending over our route. We reached a very large campsite, with enough flat area to support perhaps 4-5 tents, then continued straight ahead. But not for long. Eventually the trail just petered out. You can see our dead end on the GPS trail map above. So we backtracked past the campsite, and found a grassy forest road heading to the east.

Within a quarter mile we came to a junction of grassy forest roads, and a dirt trail heading steeply uphill. While standing there trying to get our bearings, we decided to check out all three. After all, today was a day of exploration. We took a hard right turn onto the south fork and passed by a wonderful stand of pine and hemlock that is refilling the forest since the logging days.

We were going decidedly down, even to the point of becoming seemingly lower than the open field that was our goal. But we pressed on. The side of the trail was awash in wildflowers including phlox and daisies, fire pink and yarrow, even a few remaining flame azalea. Knowing for every foot you decline, you have to climb back up, we paused when reaching a sweeping turn in the road to the east. It seemed to us that would take us away from our destination. So we decided to turn around.

Too bad. Because looking at the satellite view of the GPS map above after getting back home, all we needed to do was continue around that curve in the grassy road and we would have been right there on Old Bald Ridge. Oh well, live and learn. And now we have the desire to make a return trip soon.

The trail was lined with a treasure trove of wildflowers.

We made it back to the grassy road junction and decided to take the eastward road this time. We went about a quarter mile, hoping to see open vistas to the south, but the trail remained tree lined. So we turned around once again. Looking at the map later, we could see that this road meets up with the Mountains to Sea Trail about 2-3 miles farther to the east. Another option for the future.

Now we were back at the grassy road junction to try the dirt trail up the mountain. It’s very steep, but we hoped also very short, and it was. Within 100 yards we reached another grassy road alongside a rounded knob that was open meadow. I decided to plow through the tall grass and other “meadowy stuff” to look for the Mountains to Sea Trail. My exploration was rewarded as I discovered that this was the Earl Ammons meadow and that the MST crossed at the top.

So I went down to collect Dave and Grace, and we all ventured back up to the outcrop in the center of the field. Earl Ammons apparently liked to hunt here. It seems he liked it so much that his family embedded a plaque in the stone in his honor. The outcrop was a perfect place for lunch. Grace lapped up nearly a quart of water in just a few minutes.

The weather had been delightful all morning, cool mountain air and a bit of a breeze. Suddenly now, the sky began to look a little threatening off to the west and south. We kept a close eye out while enjoying our sandwiches, not wanting to get caught in this open meadow at 5,400 feet in a thunderstorm.

The views from Earl’s meadow are stunning. You are surrounded by the high mountains of the Great Balsam Range in all directions. The meadow was awash in summer wildflowers accentuating the experience. I caught the aroma of spruce and pine, and immediately understood why Earl loved this place.

Fortunately bad weather held off, so after 20 minutes or so we continued our trek eastward on the Mountains to Sea Trail. We entered an extremely dark rhododendron tunnel. The ground was covered with teeny, tiny white mushrooms. The farther we went, the more the wispy ground cover began encroaching on the trail. We knew from Cindy and Rich that there was another meadow farther out there, but with the potential for bad weather and the overgrown trail, we decided to turn around once more.

But we know how to get there now… either this way on the MST, or taking the eastward fork at the grassy road junction prior. Once we do this hike again, I will post a better map and more clear directions. It probably seems like we are a couple of hiking goofballs, but this day was just one of exploration. We are Meanderthals after all. A longer hike is definitely in our future now that we know the lay of the land.

We returned back through Earl’s meadow, and then up the drainage past the higher, smaller first meadow. Once we were back on top of the ridge it was a simple matter of retracing our steps back to the car. On the way back home, we dropped off the Parkway on Hwy 215 and took a country road to Canada, NC and Lake Toxaway.

Summarizing, this section of the Mountains to Sea Trail beneath Old Bald has the potential to be a truly stellar adventure. The views are absolutely magnificent. The wildflowers are robust in summer… probably in spring too. The region is laced with retired logging roads through the forest that offer of wealth of options for discovery. There is a continuous stretch of the MST from Doubletop Overlook on the Parkway to Bearpen Gap that would be a great shuttle hike, or overnight out and back. My sincerest thanks to Cindy and Rich for turning us on to this remarkable place.

Enjoy the pictures!

Update September 14, 2016: Time for another visit to this picturesque mountain location on the Blue Ridge Parkway and Mountains to Sea Trail beneath the shadow of Old Bald. The weather was near perfect for hiking and photographs, and we were able to explore some of the terrain that we missed on the previous visit, including a giant meadow.

I would add one warning for hiking this area in September — BEWARE OF YELLOW JACKETS! The warning probably holds true anywhere in the Smokies and Blue Ridge. September is mating season so the yellow jackets are excitable, angry, and aggressive.

I’ve included another GPS track for the additional trails we explored, and a new photo gallery below the map.

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.

Sometimes things just don’t go exactly as planned. But making the most of what’s available is what sets hiking apart. Everything doesn’t have to go perfectly to still enjoy the day. Such was the case with this hike across the Plott Balsams mountain range from Waterrock Knob on the Blue Ridge Parkway. You’re in rarefied air here, with the entire trail above 5,600 feet, and with magnificent views of the Great Smoky Mountains, the thriving mountain community of Sylva, NC, and even all the way to Mt. Pisgah far to the east. This is rugged terrain that takes you up and down like a rollercoaster, so be prepared for some serious exertion. My pal Ken and I hiked the Plott Balsams on Thursday, October 22, 2015 from 9:45AM to 1:45PM. Our plan was to cross the Plott Balsams from Waterrock Knob to Blackrock. We didn’t quite make it there.

If you’ve never taken the drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway from Asheville to Waterrock Knob, this adventure is worth it simply for that experience. You’re up in the high country, even passing through 6,000 feet at Richland Balsam. The long distance viewing is exceptional, particularly at western overlooks like Cowee Mountains and Deep Gap. The byway meanders in and out, up and down for 50 miles through some of the most spectacular scenery in Western North Carolina.

Waterrock Knob, and its Parkway visitor center is located at milepost 451.2, on the right coming from Asheville. The trailhead for this hike is located at the bottom of the hill, just across the Parkway from the Waterrock Road. Be sure to drive to the top though. Don’t want to cheat yourself out of the splendid view off into the Great Smoky Mountains, including the giant Mt. LeConte and Clingmans Dome. Off to the east you can see the tower that adorns iconic Mt. Pisgah 40 miles away.

There was very little information online about the hike from Waterrock to Blackrock, so Ken and I were mostly hiking blind. We weren’t even sure we had the right trail until we encountered a small, hand-made sign on a post about a hundred yards into the forest from the trailhead. This sign said it was 0.6 mile to Yellow Face and 2.2 miles to Blackrock, the two landmarks we planned on visiting. So it seemed we were in the right place.

This trail across the Plott Balsams Range didn’t waste any time introducing us to rugged alpine hiking, immediately climbing steeply. We went up 350 feet across rugged outcrops and twisty root systems to the summit of Yellow Face Mountain. The views to the east are remarkable here, although at this time of the year the top was covered with the remains of the summer’s wild sticker bushes, somewhat stunting the vantage point. This is no doubt more exciting in Spring, before all the scrub grows.

It is said this trail across the Plotts has been around since the Cherokee, although not as nicely maintained. Beginning in 1997, The Nature Conservancy purchased a 1,600 acre tract securing the Plott Balsams adjacent to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Then, around 2001-2002, the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians donated the Yellow Face Tract to the National Park Service. Sylva’s old watershed was placed in a conservation easement around 2006, securing another thousand acres of public lands in what is now known as Pinnacle Park. The latest link in the chain is the 60-acre Blackrock Ridge, secured in 2010 by the Southern Appalachians Highlands Conservancy. All of these efforts have provided the opportunity for all of us to now enjoy this remarkable trail.

On the back side of Yellow Face you give up all the elevation you just gained. In fact, the 450 foot descent will take you lower than the trailhead at Waterrock. The spruce and northern hardwoods forest changes to birch and ash, with the accompanying color brought on by October’s cooler temperatures.

The trail is lovely here, surrounded by beautiful woods. The loggers apparently also thought so, as this area is mostly new growth forest. Watch for the logging artifacts still found alongside the trail.

Evidence of an old logging camp abounds, with pulley wheels still laying around and clearings that are now used by overnight campers. It was time to climb again, this time a steep 180 feet. We entered rocky outcrop country, tipping us that we may be getting somewhat close to Blackrock. The boulders on the ridge are as large as houses, and afford viewpoints on both sides. We could see directly into downtown Sylva from one overlook (the photo at the top of this post), and from another overlook we could peer into the deep valley between here and the Smokies.

From the top we began the steepest descent yet, sometimes having to crab walk downward because of the pitch of the descent. I just happened to check my GPS which said we had traveled 3.3 miles since the trailhead. Wait! I thought it was only 2.2 miles to Blackrock. So we began to wonder if we missed it. We continued downward until we reached the bottom of the next gap, and saw an equally steep climb ahead of us.

What to do? We were beginning to tire somewhat from the up and down, up and down, so we had to make a decision. Do we make another climb, or do we turn back and see where we missed Blackrock? We chose the latter, unfortunately it turns out, the wrong choice. We never found Blackrock on the way back… simply because we had turned around too soon.

We kept our eyes peeled all the way back for little side trails that perhaps went to Blackrock, but continually came up empty. We happened upon another hiker and asked him if he had been there before. Comparing notes of his memory, and where we had just been, we came to the conclusion that we hadn’t gone far enough. When I got home later and looked at the topographic map above, that also proved that we needed to make that one final steep climb to get to the Blackrock overlook.

This view to the west from the Plott Balsams looks across the colorful valley to the imposing ridge of the Great Smoky Mountains on the horizon.

We learned from the other hiker that the trail goes right across the Blackrock outcrop. There is no spur trail to find, no rhododendron tunnel to break through. We certainly added that to our memory banks for the next time we come back to take care of unfinished business.

Ken and I expressed some disappointment to each other, but still, it had been a challenging hike on a very pleasant day. And we yet had to make that 450 foot climb back up to the Yellow Face summit. We enjoyed our lunch in the shade and quiet of the old logging camp, and made plans already for our next shot at Blackrock. Probably in Spring.

Renourished, it was time for the climb. Slow and easy. One step at a time. Deep and even breathing. I’m definitely not a speed hiker. On steep uphill, I put it in what Ken calls my compound low gear. It takes me awhile, but I get to the top. By now, the sun had passed to the other side of the ridge making views to the east less harsh than morning. I love the Autumn air. It felt refreshing in my lungs.

With our level of fatigue, we made sure to be careful on the downside of Yellow Face. There are plenty of obstacles on the descent that are just waiting to grab a stray step and send you sprawling. Not many switchbacks, the trail pretty much sticks to the fall line of the ridge. When we popped back out on the Parkway we congratulated each other for another safe and enjoyable trek.

Let’s review. Make sure before trying this hike across the Plott Balsams that you have plenty of energy. We did four hours of very strenuous hiking, and didn’t even make it all the way to Blackrock. So plan for at least an additional hour, as well as one more climb and descent if you go all the way. Judging by the topo, that last climb is another 210 feet of rugged, rocky terrain.

There are other trails available in the Waterrock Knob area including one that goes to the 6,280 foot summit, and beyond. Around the Visitor Center there are picnic tables and other amenities ideal for a family outing. Even if you don’t go all the way to Blackrock, you can still have a delightful hike across the Plotts with terrific views all along the way. Despite our disappointment, we still really enjoyed this trail and will certainly be back.

Update April 28, 2017: Time for a seasonal update on the trail to Blackrock, and to tell you that the second time I made it all the way. My brother was visiting from Colorado, so I suggested we go find this overlook on the Plott Balsams Range that I had stopped just short of a couple years ago. What I missed in the final quarter mile last time was a few places with craggy exposure to falling. The trail does quite a bit of rock scrambling on a razor thin ridge, but we managed to get through safely to enjoy the exciting 360° view from the rocky outcrop that is Blackrock Mountain.

Along the way we were treated to a wide assortment of spring wildflowers including the largest aggregation of trout lilies that I have ever encountered. Other blossoms of interest included spring beauties, trillium, chickweed, bluets, violets and a couple varieties of flowering trees. It was still too early in the season for green in the deciduous trees, but the spruce were very nice, and the pathway through the woods was carpeted on each side with very green mountain grass.

Here’s hoping you enjoy the following gallery of photos from our new visit to the Plott Balsams, and that you try to make it out yourself sometime. Please feel free to leave your comments or questions below.

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.

Joyce Kilmer-Slickrock Wilderness straddles the North Carolina / Tennessee line near the southern borders of the states, with about 75% of its 17,000 acres contained in NC. Six trailheads provide access to more than 60 miles of trail within the designated wilderness, which typically follow ridge tops or drop into the shady drainages. Perhaps the most atypical trail though is the Slickrock Creek Trail to Lower Falls in the far northern corner of the wilderness. A series of dams on the Little Tennessee River nearly a hundred years ago created Calderwood, Cheoah, and Fontana Lakes providing recreational opportunities for those who visit this region. Slickrock Creek feeds the river and offers the setting for this hike. I joined the Smokies Thursday Hiker’s group on September 10, 2015 from 9:15AM to about 2:30PM to tackle this rugged wilderness trek. Our plan was to follow Slickrock Creek Trail along Little Tennessee River to Lower Falls on Slickrock Creek, then return the same way.

Most of my 2.5 hour drive southwestward to the far corner of North Carolina was undertaken in darkness, but the sun did rise in time for me to enjoy the magnificent views in “lake country.” Between Stecoah on Hwy 28 and the pre-arranged meeting place at Deal’s Gap is some of the most stunning scenery you will find anywhere in WNC.

As you pass the Fontana Dam area and then Fontana Village… as you make the first crossing of Little Tennessee River at the base of the massive grey-brown bluffs that overlook Lake Cheoah… as you wind your way in and out, up and down to Deal’s Gap (home to the infamous motocycle adventure known as “Tail of the Dragon”), you will likely find yourself in awe of the picturesque river valley and forest. This area is without question on my to do list for autumn foliage.

I was meeting up with a Tennessee contingent known as the Smokies Thursday Hikers for a foray into the northern confines of Joyce Kilmer-Slickrock Wilderness. For them, Thursday morning hiking has been a regular thing for years and years. For me, I was representin’ for North Carolina on my first trip with the group. I couldn’t have been greeted with a more warm welcome.

The sky looked threatening over Fontana Lake, but the combination of cold water and damp, warm air made for an interesting fog-shrouded setting. The Smokies national park is on the north side of the lake (right), while the south side lies in Nantahala National Forest.

We all did the meet and greet thing at Deal’s Gap then headed south and down on Hwy 129 to another crossing of the Little Tennessee. This one lies beneath the massive Cheoah Dam, made famous in the 1993 movie “The Fugitive” starring Harrison Ford. After escaping from a train in the Bryson City area, Ford’s character Dr. Richard Kimble eventually ends up making an incredible leap from the top of Cheoah Dam into the frigid Little Tennessee far below. An interesting backdrop for our trailhead for sure.

The Slickrock Creek Trail begins on the south side of this bridge, right after you cross it. There are no signs that mark its presence, just know that immediately after crossing the bridge you need to turn off Hwy 129 onto a short gravel road with minimal parking. The four vehicles in our group were stretched out a hundred feet along the side of the highway.

Just as we were all smiling for a group picture on the bridge in front of the imposing dam, the threatening skies decided to become more than just a threat. We all scrambled for rain gear and began hiking a few moments later all bundled up against the wet. Within a hundred yards we came to the Nantahala Forest sign that denotes the entrance to Joyce Kilmer-Slickrock Wilderness.

For the first two miles of this hike, in a northwesterly direction, the trail parallels the Little Tennessee, or as it is known in this area: Calderwood Lake. There are three dams in the region, part of the work done by the Tennessee Valley Authority nearly one hundred years ago. Fontana Dam created Fontana Lake at the southern foot of what would become Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Cheoah Dam, where we started, confines the river again several hundred feet lower, and then a few more miles downstream the Calderwood Dam creates the lake alongside this trail. Each has its own special appeal.

The forest is deciduous hardwood, a mix of buckeye, oak, hickory, fraser magnolia, and other aromatic varieties. It was nut season, as we saw the droppings of each along the path. So too did we find buffalo nut, a new one for me. These pear shaped nuts were about the size of ping pong balls and hid beneath the leaves of the host tree.

Along this two mile stretch the trail itself rollercoasters, though the elevation difference never exceeds 50 feet or so. We hollered at a lone kayaker on the lake below, and crossed a few very slippery man-made foot bridges over the occasional drainage tumbling down from the Unicoi Mountains. Our group of 11 tended to spread out along the trail as good conversation, and shedding of rain jackets on this very muggy day led to each setting their own comfortable pace.

The day started with umbrellas and rain jackets. That didn’t last long, however, as the very high humidity made us wetter from sweat than from rain.

After about an hour we heard that tell-tale sound of whitewater ahead. Rushing water in the forest is unmistakable. We were approaching Slickrock Creek, where it plummets with a force into the river/lake. Slickrock Creek is the state line between North Carolina and Tennessee. The trail turns decidedly to the southwest as it now follows along the NC side of the creek. This is drainage from Bob Stratton Bald, a scenic high-mountain vista we had enjoyed just a few short weeks before.

With the new direction, and new water companion, we also encountered much more treacherous terrain. Over the course of the next mile-and-a-half as we followed Slickrock Creek, we would gingerly navigate the layered strata that lines the gorge of this waterway. It became exceedingly obvious how this stream, and wilderness in general, got their name. It is VERY slick rock indeed. To make it even more difficult, it began to rain again. In fact, as we proceeded deeper and deeper into the wilderness, members of our group wisely chose to drop out at particularly gnarly obstacles along the way for safety reasons.

Between carefully chosen steps, though, we were treated to bright, beautiful cardinal flowers springing up from the creek bed. So too did we find the appropriately named hearts-a-bustin’, as well as teeny-tiny radiant orange cinnabar chanterelles mushrooms hiding within the thick carpet of verdant partridge vine. Many of these were flowers I had only heard about, or seen in pictures, but finally got to enjoy in person. It’s amazing really, the length of the wildflower season in the Smokies. Starting in late March, with varieties changing weekly through October, we are blessed to experience something blooming for our delight more than half the year.

By the time we reached the creek crossing just a quarter mile from Lower Falls, we were now down to only four of our crew. We paused to make sure we had our footwear ready, the electronics safely stowed, and our nerves properly prepared for the wet and wild passage across Slickrock Creek. On the other side of this boulder strewn, 30-foot-wide stream lies Tennessee, and access to our destination.

We wouldn’t be Meanderthals if we stopped now, so into the current we stepped. Surprisingly, the water wasn’t especially cold. The deepest point was probably no more than a foot, not even reaching our knees. Some of the rocks were like walking on loose, rolling, wet bowling balls, but mostly it was a piece of cake. All four of us reached the other side without incident… good news knowing my history.

The rest of the way to Lower Falls is simple. First we went beyond the falls for a view from above, then backtracked. We had to descend a pretty steep embankment about 20 feet to get to water level, and an island that was a great spot for lunch and the best view of the waterfall. Lower Falls is a twin waterfall, with each cascade separated by about 15-20 feet. I called them the North Carolina falls (on the left) and the Tennessee falls (on the right), as the state line is split right down the middle.

While we enjoyed lunch and our surroundings, to make things all appropriate, I sat on the North Carolina side of the island while the other three sat on the Tennessee side.

Thankfully the rain stopped, so we were able to relish the scene in relative comfort. From the base of the falls you can see the summits of the Unicoi Mountains high above. On the other side lies Cherokee National Forest and Citico Creek Wilderness. The Slickrock Creek Trail actually continues on, 12 miles total, to Wildcat Falls and Big Fat Gap. But this was today’s destination.

Fully nourished now, it was time to head back. We didn’t want the others to worry, or to have to wait too long for our return. We stopped briefly at a much smaller waterfall just off the trail that has a unique piano wire or angel hair drip. Once again, we all made it safely back across Slickrock Creek. It was time to put on dry socks and remove all the wet gear to make better time on the return trip.

Things did seem to go smoother. While still occasionally disconcerting, the terrain didn’t seem quite as treacherous on the way back. Perhaps I was more prepared for what to expect. There is one stretch where the trail is basically hanging on the strata with the creek only abut 3-4 feet straight below. I can imagine during the spring runoff that this may be completely underwater.

When we got back alongside Calderwood Lake, apparently there had been a release from the dam because a shroud of fog now covered the surface. Colder water, released from the dam, mixed with the warmer air produced an eery, but beautiful cloud in the woods. The forest was really, really green from all this day’s moisture.

The rest of the crew was patiently waiting when we got back to the trailhead. We swapped stories, patted each other on the back, and shared an ice cold beverage. It had been a really good day.

In summary, despite the conditions, I thoroughly enjoyed this hike. Good company, beautiful scenery, plenty of wildflowers and nuts, and a brand new place for me. Some in our group, particularly the older ones in their eighties, thought this a little too dangerous in the wet, slippery weather. Take that into account when considering the hike for yourself.

The drive to the location is stunning. I would recommend it no matter the season. The hike won’t wear you out physically, but it might wear you down mentally. You won’t be huffing and puffing from exertion, but you may get stressed by the nature of the terrain. Perhaps come on a dry day though, so the Slickrock Wilderness isn’t quite so slick.

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.

Even though Devils Elbow is a mountain summit, the highlights of the Devils Elbow Trail in Panthertown are the myriad of waterfalls on the Tuckasegee River. The river forms at the confluence of Panthertown and Greenland Creeks, then takes a wild ride over several falls on its way eventually to Fontana Lake in the Great Smoky Mountains. Most of this hike is on maintained trail, but prepare yourself to do battle with rhododendron thickets on your way to each waterfall. When the leaves are down, there are scattered views from the Devils Elbow into Panthertown Valley, and of the surrounding Blue Ridge. We followed the Devils Elbow Trail on Friday, January 16, 2015 between 11:00AM and 3:00PM. Our plan was to take the Panthertown Valley Trail to the Devils Elbow Trail, climb to the Devils Elbow, then check out the waterfalls on the way back.

Like most hikes in Panthertown Valley, this one starts at the Panthertown Valley Trailhead at Cold Mountain Gap. Unlike most other hikes, you’re going to get off the main trail. About a half mile down, take a right turn on Devils Elbow Trail. It’s just before the bridge over Greenland Creek.

Devils Elbow Trail starts out pretty flat, then makes a dip down to the level of the Tuckasegee River. Along the way, the trail passes beneath the power transmission lines that criss-cross the valley. Surprisingly, this is one of the clearest views you will find of the bowl that is Panthertown Valley.

We had two goals on this day. Since we hadn’t tried this trail before, we were not only interested in all the waterfalls, we were also curious about what was at the summit of Devils Elbow. There are some pretty great long-distance views in Panthertown. Perhaps this was another.

So, we first passed the junction with Riding Ford Trail that takes you to (of all things) Riding Ford Falls. Then we passed the Carlton-made trail that goes to Elbow and Red Butt Falls. To reach a summit, you first have to climb, and so it was. Beginning at this 2nd junction, Devils Elbow Trail takes a decided turn up, climbing more than 300 feet in a half mile.

When you reach the summit, known as Devils Elbow, unfortunately there isn’t a nice viewpoint like an outcropping or ledge. How do we know that? Well, we went exploring. We went down two different game trails looking for views either inward, into Panthertown Valley, or outward to the surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains of Nantahala National Forest. The scratches on my legs and arms are testament to the thick briars, laurel and rhododendron we bushwhacked through during our search. We came up empty.

So instead, we continued beyond Devils Elbow on West Fork Way. This trail follows the crest for several miles, eventually coming out on Hwy 281. There were occasional openings in the trees for a semi-view, but still nothing remarkable. After 15 minutes we turned around to head for the waterfalls.

Unfortunately, this is the best view we could find from Devils Elbow. This is looking southwest from the summit across Panthertown Valley.

Above I mentioned “Carlton-made trails.” Carlton McNeil was the unofficial “caretaker of Panthertown.” Throughout the latter years of the 20th century, McNeil spent most of his days in Panthertown Valley building trails. Some were very good, while others were quite sketchy depending on terrain. Carlton’s trails are, as you can imagine, somewhat controversial.

The U.S. Forest Service isn’t crazy about them because they aren’t supported, and in many cases simply aren’t safe. But those who love to explore Panthertown are eternally grateful to McNeil because he provided pathways to some of the most remote features found within the forest. This includes dozens of hidden waterfalls like the ones that line the headwaters of the Tuckasegee River.

On our way back down from Devils Elbow we took a hard right turn on one of Carlton’s trails. You won’t ever see any signs for these trails. As I said, the Forest Service doesn’t support them. Occasionally you will come across directional ribbons tied to trees along the path, but that’s about it. You are pretty much on your own. Well, this “Carlton trail” off Devils Elbow goes first to Elbow Falls, then continues deeper into the gorge to Red Butt Falls.

It is downhill to the river, and in January, covered with wet leaves over loose topsoil. Traction is difficult. Downed trees and thick rhododendron make progress increasingly hard. We were clambering both under and over branches. We reached Elbow Falls first. Appropriately named, the river comes down over the falls and into a deep crevice that redirects the river flow to the left, like an elbow. 40 feet later, the flow makes another sharp turn back to the right.

There is a large, smooth granite area at the base of the falls that is a great place to hang out and experience the scenery. There is even a downed tree there that makes a perfect seat to enjoy lunch and the moment. While drinking warm soup we talked about the trails that Carlton McNeil built a few decades ago. We have mixed feelings about some of his trails, particularly the ones that are causing erosion in fragile areas, but we are grateful when they take us to remarkable wild places like Elbow Falls.

Refreshed and nourished, we continued down the waterfalls trail to the next destination. It’s about another tenth mile to Red Butt Falls. Access is even more difficult as the trail (such as it is) is really full of obstacles. Red Butt Falls is a classic slide waterfall, gliding 100 feet or more to a pool at the base of the slide. There is a very small, tight access to the top of the slide, but be extremely careful as one slip means you won’t stop until you splash into the pool.

The most interesting feature of Red Butt Falls is the cave at the base. Over eons the rush of the water has carved the stone at this curve in the river, creating a recession that you can walk beneath. On a summer day, Red Butt Falls would be a nice swimming hole, and a place to shade yourself from the hot sun in the cave. If you’re brave, you might even try the slide that is Red Butt Falls.

After getting our fill of Red Butt Falls, we climbed back up out of the gorge to the Devils Elbow Trail and the next stop on our waterfalls trek. This one is actually a supported trail with a sign at the junction. It’s called the Riding Ford Trail and it takes you to Riding Ford Falls in only a couple hundred yards.

As you can imagine from the name, the trail itself actually fords the river and continues for another mile deep into the forest toward Sassafras and Blackrock Mountains. There really isn’t a waterfall here, just more like a small cascade, but if you ford the river you gain access to more Carlton trails and more waterfalls further upstream. We didn’t have the appropriate footwear for a river crossing, so we decided to save this one for a warm spring or summer day. The photo at the top of this post is a view downriver from Riding Ford.

On our way back to the car, we talked about this new (for us) section of Panthertown. We learned a lot about the path the Tuck, as it is called, takes through the valley. It is quite rugged in the Tuckasegee River gorge. I have done hikes that were longer, or had more elevation gain where I wasn’t as tired as I was at the end of this day. This is one of those hikes that kinda beats you up. But hey, if you’re gonna be dumb, you better be tough, right?

To summarize, it is 1.5 miles from the start of the Devils Elbow Trail to the summit of Devils Elbow. If you’re only interested in the waterfalls, you can cut that distance by a third. It isn’t all that far off the main trail to the waterfalls, but be prepared for a tough go. Expect some scratches and a bruise or two, and please be sure to use your head and don’t do something stupid around the falls. Some people love the wild nature of off trail experiences at Panthertown Valley. If that isn’t your cup of tea, don’t fret, there are still miles and miles of supported trails available to you.

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.

Pinnacle Park is an 1,100 acre tract of land owned by the town of Sylva in Jackson County, NC that was previously used as the community watershed. In 1991 it was leased to the Pinnacle Park Foundation for developing hiking trails that pass by streams, waterfalls, and beautiful long distance vistas. The Pinnacle, where the park got its name, is a large rocky outcropping that rises above 4,900 feet and offers 270° views of the town, the Plott Balsams, the Great Balsam Range, and even Clingmans Dome in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. This hike occurred on Tuesday, February 18, 2014 beginning at 9:50AM and ending about 2:40PM. Our plan was to take the Pinnacle Trail to The Pinnacle, then return the same way.

This was my first trip to Sylva. Despite living in Western North Carolina for nearly 10 years, I’d never managed to make it to this small town at the foot of the Great Balsam and Plott Balsam mountain ranges. After seeing the views from The Pinnacle and the other hiking trails that are available in the area, I most certainly will return.

Pinnacle Park used to be the town watershed for Sylva until 1991 when a larger water source was required to supply the growing community. The east and west forks of Fisher Creek were the primary suppliers of the fresh mountain water, and you’ll see both as you follow the nature trails that were constructed at the bottom of the park for those who enjoy a brief walk in the woods.

The groomed trail really only covers the first quarter mile of the Pinnacle Peak hike however, and you will soon meet what is called the “Main Trail” or “West Fork Trail.” It’s simply the old roadbed that was leftover from the watershed days. Because it was a road, and is all uphill, it is quite rocky. The rocks were needed for traction back in the days when town maintenance vehicles needed to get to the top.

This main trail climbs mostly due north and has purple and gold blaze marks, a tribute to nearby Western Carolina University. After climbing for 10-15 minutes you will reach a trail junction where Fisher Creek splits to West Fork and East Fork. To get to The Pinnacle, stay on the West Fork Trail. The East Fork Trail goes to a large waterfall that will be on our agenda for another day.

The West Fork of Fisher Creek will be on your left as you continue to climb the mountain. The next landmark is a house-sized granite formation known as “Split Rock” because of a large fissure right through its heart. Keep this large rock in mind, because you will actually be able to see it from The Pinnacle later (in winter that is, when the leaves are off the trees). Over the next mile there are several very photogenic spots along Fisher Creek with small waterfalls and multi-tiered cascades.

The trail maintains a relentless climb at a rate of about 800’/mile totaling 1,800′ of gain in 2.1 miles to the junction with the Blackrock Trail. I was having one of those hikes when the legs and lungs want to take a day off, but the trail says oh no you don’t. And to make it even more difficult, at about 4,000′ elevation we encountered snow that was left from the previous week’s storm. Time to put on the Yaktrax ice traction device over my boots. Two other hikers passed us… two we would meet again on The Pinnacle.

The higher we climbed, the deeper the snow got, eventually reaching about four inches when we approached the junction of the Pinnacle Trail with the Blackrock Trail. By now my breathing was quite labored and there was still 1.4 miles to The Pinnacle. I stopped for a five minute respite, then resumed my snail’s pace climb.

The Pinnacle Trail continued climbing, now in a southerly direction, for about another 100 feet of gain. Then, much to my surprise and relief, it leveled out and remained that way for the duration. Whew! There was still quite a bit of snow covering the trail, but at least it was flat, and I was moving at a pretty good pace now.

From the top of the ridge, it was now possible to see the surrounding mountains through the trees. While I’m sure this trail is dotted with wildflowers and a beautiful hardwood forest during the green season, you can’t beat winter for views you would not see in summer.

You will know you’re getting close to The Pinnacle when the rhododendron starts getting thicker and thicker. During the bloom season, this canopied area along Pinnacle Ridge is no doubt quite flowery. You will reach a 30-40 yard clearing at the top of the ridge that you may think is the destination, but you still need to pick your way through a tight rhododendron forest to get to the precipice of The Pinnacle.

When you finally pop out of the rhodies you will definitely know you’ve reached the prize. The Pinnacle is a very craggy, and dangerous, outcropping with substantial cliffs on each side. You will make a dip on a narrow crossing, then up and over the knob of The Pinnacle and down the southern side about 30 feet. Be sure to carefully watch each step, especially when snow or ice covered, as it was on this day. It’s a long way down if you misstep.

We encountered the two women, Sue and Janice, who had passed us before and sat down to break bread with them. There are plenty of naturally made rock seats here that enable fabulous viewing while enjoying your lunch. Sue and Janice are Sylva locals, so it was our good fortune to learn a lot about what we were looking at in each direction.

To the east you can see the Smoky Mountain Parkway snaking its way through the valley, and far in the distance to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Straight ahead to the south are the massive mountains of the Great Balsam Range, and the town of Sylva directly below. Sylva is the county seat of Jackson County, and their beautiful white courthouse is visible on its hilltop perch far below.

Looking westward yields the left shoulder of the Plott Balsam Range that runs across the northern horizon to an eventual meeting with Waterrock Knob on the Blue Ridge Parkway. There is a trail that crosses the Plotts and comes out at the Parkway Visitor Center on Waterrock Knob. That is definitely a hike that has been added to our list of future endeavors. Just peaking out above Pinnacle Knob to the north is Clingmans Dome, the highest point in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Thanks very much to Janice and Sue for sharing their neighborhood with us.

The Pinnacle is one of those places you hate to leave. We could have enjoyed the scenery for hours, but we still had two hours of hiking and another hour of driving ahead of us, so we geared back up and started the reverse trek. By now it was a perfect day for hiking… clear skies with a gentle breeze and temps in the low to mid-50s. It doesn’t get much better.

The snow was already beginning to melt as we retraced our steps across Pinnacle Ridge. The snow was squishy now and tended to give way on the canted terrain. We could hear the melting trickle down dozens of tiny waterways making their path to Fisher Creek. We saw firsthand why this had been a watershed decades ago.

On the way down the trail traffic picked up. We first encountered two young guys, probably students from WCU, then a trio of more senior hikers more in our age group. Our final hiker encounter was a young women and her two beautiful German Shepherds who were just as friendly as could be. Getting started several hours after us, I suspect all these other hikers were in for a wet and mushy descent later.

Though going downhill was a whole lot easier for me, after a couple hours the continuous down takes a toll on the knees and thighs. My calves and lungs were definitely feeling it on the way up, and the descent let the other parts of me know that they had a workout as well. You will definitely get your exercise on this hike.

To summarize, The Pinnacle Trail at Pinnacle Park is a wonderful way to discover the Smoky Mountains of Western North Carolina. The Pinnacle Park Foundation has done a nice job of turning the former watershed into an area of recreation for Sylva locals and anyone else who wishes to enjoy the captivating views. The Foundation has this hike measured at 7 miles, but my GPS recorded an 8.5 mile track, so bring supplies accordingly. It took me a long time to make it to Sylva, but I will certainly be back to try some of the other trails in the area.

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.

Panthertown Valley in Nantahala National Forest is known for its stunning mountaintop vistas, but also for a numerous and varied assortment of waterfalls that run the gamut from slides, to cascades, to ledge and plunge. Six of those falls are along Greenland Creek, including the feature cascade Greenland Creek Falls. Beyond this tall waterfall, the Greenland Creek Trail has become overgrown and difficult to follow, but there are two more waterfalls further upstream. Halfway Falls and Carlton’s Falls are definitely worth the effort to access, but not-for-long as the trail is no longer maintained by the U.S. Forest Service. This hike occurred on Tuesday, December 31, 2013 beginning at 10:15AM and ending about 2:30PM. My plan was to follow the Greenland Creek Trail past the various waterfalls for as far as the overgrown trail would take me, then return and take the Panthertown Valley Trail to everybody’s favorite, Schoolhouse Falls.

The six mile stretch of Cold Mountain Road from Hwy 281 to the trailhead is a beautiful drive through pine forest around Lake Toxaway and past homes of the ultra-rich. There is also a charming hundred-year-old church in one of the turns. Eventually the road climbs, winding its way up Cold Mountain and away from the lake.

I’ve hiked most of the trails in the picturesque central and northern sections of Panthertown Valley. It is a remarkable place. Efforts by the U.S. Forest Service in teamwork with Friends of Panthertown have created a robust trail system in this iconic area of Nantahala National Forest. However, there is a secluded trail in the far southeast corner of Panthertown that had so far eluded my discovery. No more. I have now hiked the Greenland Creek Trail.

The northern half of this trail is a loop, so you can access trailheads at both ends of the Cold Mountain Gap entrance. I chose the eastern trailhead to start, and returned on the west side of the loop. The trail sign on the east side is labeled Mac’s Gap Trail.

It initially drops about 150 feet of elevation as it dives into hardwood forest. Most of the trail is rhododendron and laurel lined, so expect plenty of flowers in spring. Like many of the trails in Panthertown, this one does cross the right of way beneath the Duke Energy power transmission lines. Soon afterward it reaches the first junction with Greenland Creek Trail, roughly half a mile from the trailhead.

For the next couple hundred yards Greenland Creek and Mac’s Gap share the same trail, then you’ll come to the 2nd junction. Here, Mac’s Gap turns right and heads in a westerly direction and Greenland Creek bears just slightly left, but southerly. Expect the rest of the trail to Greenland Creek Falls to get rockier and more confined.

It’s another 1/4 to the falls, hiked in close quarters. The laurels are really taking over in this area making the trail harder and harder to keep clear and navigable. You begin to get the impression the Forest Service has chosen to abandon this trail and the only thing keeping it going is the foot traffic wanting to see Greenland Creek Falls.

To get the best view of Greenland Creek Falls you will have to go slightly off trail, across some large boulders and a very large downed tree. You can even use the trunk of the tree as a walkway to cross the boulders. Once on the other side, you will be facing directly at this two-level cascade with the plunge pool lapping at your feet.

As Greenland Creek drops over the precipice of the falls, it plummets about 35-40 feet to a hard landing below, bouncing and splashing onward to the next tier. It’s then another 15 feet over the second cascade into a large pool that would be ideal for wading and cooling during the hot summer months.

Most casual hikers will stop here and return, thinking that Greenland Creek Falls is the feature of the trail. But if you want to see more waterfalls, it’s time to pull the straps tight on your pack, cinch the laces on your boots, take a few deep breaths, and steel yourself for an all-fours climb that approaches bushwhacking.

Left of the falls is the remnant of what used to be the continuation of Greenland Creek Trail. At some time in the past decade, the Forest Service decided this trail was too difficult and costly to maintain, so they abandoned it and took it off of their maps.

If you keep you eyes peeled, you can still follow the remains of the trail as it climbs extremely steeply up the left side of the falls. I found myself reaching for saplings as I climbed to keep from falling backward, and to pull myself up the next few feet. It took me about 15 minutes to climb the 200 feet to the top. Believe me when I tell you, I was panting by the time I got there…

…only to discover that the trail heads straight back down the other side almost as steeply. Oh great, I thought. Now I have to climb up this on the way back. The trail actually has to go above the level of the falls precipice, then back down part way to rejoin Greenland Creek. There is a nice view off into the distance over the precipice of Greenland Creek Falls, but don’t be tempted to go to the falls edge as you will surely die if you slip.

The rest of the trail to the upper falls is relatively flat, but it continues to get more and more overgrown. I had the good fortune of being on this trail in winter when the leaves were off the trees and the weeds were gone. I have to imagine it’s next to impossible to follow in summer when the vegetation is at full green. There is some evidence (machete chops) of a few hearty souls still trying to keep this trail active, but it is unfortunately suffering the fate of abandonment.

In about five minutes you will reach Halfway Falls, a classic slide waterfall. You’ll have to drop off the path through the rhodos to get a closeup view. Be sure to watch your step on the wet granite.

It’s then another 10 minutes to Carlton’s Falls. Greenland Creek makes a decidedly eastward swing, and the trail climbs again, but this time easily manageable. The best view of Carlton’s Falls is about 100 feet short of the cascade, again down off the path through a rhododendron thicket.

Carlton’s Falls is named for Carlton McNeil, the unofficial caretaker of Panthertown. If you spent much time in Panthertown Valley during the 1990s, it is likely you met Carlton McNeil out taking care of the trails so that future generations could enjoy his beloved Panthertown.

I paused at the spot downstream and enjoyed the first warming sunrays of the day, and a by now nearly frozen sandwich. After renourishing, I continued up the path to a spot next to Carlton’s Falls. I couldn’t get real close because there simply wasn’t a good flat piece of granite, and it wasn’t safe.

At one time the Greenland Creek Trail continued easterly toward Ravenrock Mountain. My curiosity led me onward, but I turned around after a short hundred yards because the trail just became too difficult to follow.

Hiking back became a reverse of the difficult venture upward. When I reached the precipice of Greenland Creek Falls, I had to retrace steps back up to the top of the trail, then slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, slip and slide my way back down the pathway to a safe landing at the bottom. I know I went “whew” more than a few times. But, as the Meanderthals motto suggests, “If you’re gonna be dumb, you better be tough.”

When I reached the junction of Mac’s Gap and Green Creek Trails, this time I followed the Greenland Creek Trail back up the hill to the parking area. It seemed like this western side of the loop climbed farther than I remember going down at the beginning, but perhaps I was still tired from my prior adventure.

After a brief respite to shed a layer, I set out again down the Panthertown Valley Trail just to see Schoolhouse Falls. No visit to Panthertown is complete without it. I won’t get into the details here — there’s another entire trail report that includes a stop at Schoolhouse Falls.

To summarize, the Greenland Creek Trail is dying. Even the first section to Greenland Creek Falls has probably seen better days. From that point on, you’re on your own. The upper falls are definitely worth seeing, but only you can decide it it’s worth the risk to try to get there. Greenland Creek Falls, in and of itself, makes for a very nice short and rewarding hike, so be sure to see it sometime on a visit to Panthertown Valley.

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.

Transylvania County, North Carolina is known as “Land of Waterfalls” for good reason, as there are 250 unique cascades within a short drive of each other. Upper Whitewater Falls on the Whitewater River south of Sapphire is perhaps the most spectacular. There are two distinct overlooks of the 411 foot plunge taken by the river on its path to Lake Jocassee. Nantahala National Forest has developed a small park with family amenities for those who wish to view this spectacular wall of water. Eight short miles north of Upper Whitewater is Gorges State Park. An elevation that rises 2,000 feet in only four miles, combined with rainfall in excess of 80 inches per year, creates a temperate rain forest in one of North Carolina’s newest state parks. This excursion occurred on Tuesday, July 17, 2012 from 7:15am to 11:30am. My plan was to take the short trail to Upper Whitewater Falls, then drive north on Hwy 281 to Gorges State Park for some exploration.

I went solo on this trip. Usually not a good idea out in the wilds, but there really wasn’t much to be concerned about on these trails. I left the house just before sunrise for what amounted to an 80 minute drive to Upper Whitewater Falls. I went through Brevard, past Rosman, and beyond Lake Toxaway as I looked for Hwy 281 South, also known as Whitewater Falls Road. Once on 281, it is nine miles to the turnoff for the falls. The Nantahala National Forest folks have done a nice job setting up a small park-like atmosphere out in the middle of nowhere. People can come see the falls, but stay and enjoy the day picnicking or playing with the family.

It’s a $2.00 day use fee for parking, a reasonable price for keeping the area maintained and safe. Look for the registration kiosk, grab one of the pink envelopes, then put the date and your vehicle plate number on the outside. Slide a couple bucks inside the envelope, seal it, and drop it back in the kiosk. Place the pass portion on your rear view mirror or dashboard so they know what day you are there, and you’re good to go.

As I approached the paved trail toward the falls, I saw a great view of the South Carolina upstate through the trees. The mountains aren’t quite as tall here as they are farther north, but they’re no less beautiful when shrouded with that typical early morning low-lying fog. I could make out Lake Jocassee to the southeast, and the edge of the Blue Ridge Escarpment.

The trail, or pathway, is paved and handicapped accessible. It curls past picnic tables, grills, and swings for the kids. It is relatively flat, although it does climb about 70 feet in the quarter mile length to the first overlook. When I reached the upper overlook, there it was straight ahead, the very large Upper Whitewater Falls. That’s the picture at the top of this post. Click it for a larger image.

In its 411 feet of length, there are three distinct tiers of water descent. At the top is a 70-80 foot free-fall as the Whitewater River rushes over the precipice. The top is perhaps the widest section of the falls, or at least it was on this mid-July day when the flow rate was probably somewhat low. Next, the water enters a cataract section as it spills over, around and under large black boulders strewn at the bottom of the initial plunge. From there, it enters a slide area as it continues its cascade down the gorge. It then free-falls another 200 feet before finally crashing loudly on the rocks below and heading to South Carolina.

There is another 200 foot waterfall just a scant couple miles across the state line, known as Lower Whitewater Falls, but that’s a hike for another day. That one is not as easily accessible.

There is a split-rail fence on the edge of the cliff at the upper overlook that will keep you from getting too close. It’s probably a good idea to heed the warning sign that advises not to stray away from the barrier. After all, it is a 400 foot fall into the gorge. Above the falls, to the north, is a beautiful mountain scene so typical in the southern Appalachians. The post-dawn bright blue sky filled with puffy white clouds made quite the picturesque scene.

But now it’s time to work for your viewing pleasure. You see, there is another lower overlook. A lot lower. Like 154 steps lower. There is a wood plank staircase built into the side of the gorge. It will drop 8-10 steps to a small landing platform, then turn to the left, or right, and drop another few steps. If you wish to go to the lower viewing platform, take just a moment to ponder your physical conditioning. It isn’t so tough to go down 154 steps, but consider what it will be like coming back up. It’s equivalent to climbing the stairwell in a 12-15 story building.

At the bottom of the stairs, the lower viewing platform is not particularly big, perhaps a 15 foot square. You can only see the falls from one side of the platform, so it might get kinda crowded down there on weekends or afternoons. But this day, before 8:00AM, I had the place to myself. I would recommend you do the same, especially if you’re looking for some solitude, or so you don’t feel rushed. It was nice to be able to setup my tripod and not have to worry about disturbing other visitors.

The lower overlook is halfway down the plunge of the waterfall, about the same height as the taller lower free-fall. Because there are trees growing all around, there is only a small window to view the falls, but it is spectacular. From the lower overlook, you can see the absolute bottom of the falls — where it crashes onto the rocks. You can’t see that from the top.

On the south corner of the platform is a trail that continues down into the gorge to meet the Foothills Trail. However, there is not another view of the falls down there. It heads the other direction.

Satisfied with the opportunity to enjoy the beautiful surroundings, after about 20 minutes it was time to climb up the stairs. I was determined to check my endurance and see if I could make it back up without stopping. I am, after all, a Meanderthal. Well, I made it! Yay! One of life’s little accomplishments. For those of you who are sensible, and don’t see the need to play these little head games, there are plenty of benches along the way to stop and take a breather.

The first part of my day was complete. It was time to get back in the car and head north to Gorges State Park. But first, there is a little viewing area of Whitewater Falls that is outside the fee area. If you go about 1/4 mile north on Hwy 281 from the Whitewater park, there is a pull-off on the side of the road as you crest the hill. There is a rock scramble up the hillside to a view of the top of the falls from the west side. Be careful, the rocks are pretty dangerous. It would be easy to stumble.

It’s an eight mile drive north on Hwy 281 from Whitewater Falls to the northwestern entrance to Gorges State Park. If you’re coming from Sapphire or Hwy 64, then it’s only a mile down 281. The park opens at 8:30AM.

Gorges is one of the state’s newest parks. The roads and infrastructure project, begun in 2007, is now complete and available for visitors. Located in the northwestern section of the park, the Bearwallow area is brand new. The picnic facilities have just recently opened and are still shiny, not sticky. The park Visitor Center remains under construction, and the trails just opened in July, 2012. It’s still a good idea to call ahead to inquire about the status of the park’s various amenities.

I am impressed with the quality of the loop road through this section of the park. The Visitor Center is probably 2/3 completed as of mid-July 2012, but it looks fancy. The trails, though, I’m not so sure about. I explored the newly opened Bearwallow Valley Overlook and Picnic Area Connector Trails, and was underwhelmed. It’s a nice stroll through the woods, but the tracks are covered in gravel. I suppose that makes for easier maintenance, but I prefer a more natural look.

Bearwallow Valley Overlook is an overlook of — wait for it — power transmission lines. All this property used to be owned by Duke Energy as a right of way for the lines from Lake Jocassee to Tuskaseegee in Jackson County. In the 1990s they sold and donated 7000 acres in the watersheds of the Toxaway River and Bearwallow Creek to the North Carolina Division of Parks and Recreation. Those acres are now Gorges State Park.

In fairness, you can see Lake Jocassee and Lake Keowee from the overlook, through the power lines. These two reservoirs were constructed by Duke Energy back in the 1960s for hydroelectric power generation.

It seems to me though, if they had continued the overlook trail just another couple hundred yards under the power lines there would be an unobstructed view of the two lakes, and the South Carolina upstate. Oh well, they didn’t ask me. Perhaps there are geologic, safety, or property rights reasons.

There are other trails that may be more enjoyable. There is a 1.5 mile trail to Upper Bearwallow Falls, and a strenuous three mile trail that starts within the state park boundary, but leaves to go to Rainbow Falls. Keep in mind, this is a new park that is still evolving.

Summary

If you want to see Lower Whitewater Falls, in South Carolina, lace up your hiking boots. It’s a two-mile hike to another far-away observation deck that overlooks the 200 foot cascade and the Jocassee Gorges area. There are four rivers and numerous creeks that flow into Lake Jocassee as they careen down the Blue Ridge Escarpment. Upper and Lower Whitewater Falls are just two among six waterfalls on the Whitewater River before it empties into the lake.

I thoroughly enjoyed Whitewater Falls. It is one of the more spectacular in the “Land of Waterfalls.” Try to go early in the morning if you can, to avoid the crowds. This isn’t a close up waterfall experience, but it doesn’t need to be because the falls is so large. You won’t feel the mist on your face, but your eyes will open wide and your ears will be filled with the sound of roaring, rushing water. I suspect this is a definite must see during fall foliage season.

Gorges State Park, on the other hand, is still trying. They aren’t quite ready for prime time yet. The trail system, at least so far, is ho-hum. I hope they have plans to construct trails down each of the gorges the park is named for. That would be some rugged, wilderness-type hiking. The Auger Hole and Canebrake Trails in the eastern section of the park are a whole lot more interesting. The western side of the state park is probably going to be a good summer weekend experience for families, but if you’re looking for hiking, stay on the east side.

Update October 2012: The park Visitor Center, Maintenance Facility, two Picnic Areas and two Restroom Facilities are now fully open and operating. The Visitor Center in particular is quite classy and adds considerable ambiance to the park.

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.

Designated a National Wild and Scenic River, the Chattooga River’s headwaters are in North Carolina, but it stretches into Georgia and South Carolina as well. In fact, at one point known as Ellicott Rock, it marks the common tri-boundary of all three states. There are more than 50 miles of trails along the Chattooga River but this four-mile stretch just south of Cashiers, NC is a good introduction to get you in the mood for future exploration. This section of the river is known for the steep, remote Chattooga Cliffs that stand guard high above. This hike occurred on Thursday, March 29, 2012 from 8:45am to 12:15pm. Our plan was to take the Chattooga River Trail (432) to the Chattooga Loop Trail (433), then return the way we came.

If you’ve never been to Cashiers/Highlands in southwestern North Carolina, it’s a rugged mountainous area with massive granite cliffs surrounding deep, luscious valleys. The drive from Cashiers to the trailhead on Whiteside Cove Raod sets the mood for some exceptional scenery as it passes by Whiteside Mountain, one of those prominent landmark cliffs that are ubiquitous to the region. The road winds steeply down through a residential neighborhood typical of mountain living.

The trail starts out with a short climb of about 200 feet as it enters a mixed forest of white pine, hemlock and laurels. When you pass the “boating access” sign (it made no sense to me either) be sure to look behind you for a magnificent view of the Whiteside Mountain cliffs edge peering out above the treeline. As the trail tops out, it begins a gradual descent along a soft, well-groomed, pine needle covered track that makes for a very pleasant stroll through the woods. When the trail begins its decline it makes a westerly turn before winding back to the southeast.

On this day in the last week of March, we began seeing our first wildflowers of the season. Yay! There was a patch of bluets alongside the trail, and a few violets. On the way back, there were more violets and a number of daisies that had opened up to enjoy the sunshine. We could see the trillium stems poking out of the ground, but no flowering yet.

As the trail nears the river, it hangs on a ledge, and has suffered the effects of erosion in a few spots. The forest service and volunteers have done some work to shore up the deterioration with platforms and railings, but there is more work needed. This is, however, the only section of the trail that is anything less than excellent. It was from one of these platforms that we caught our first glimpse of the river. There is a series of two switchbacks at the steepest part of the descent before the trail reaches the river level and turns south. This is just about the halfway point.

Perhaps a little wider than we expected at maybe 30 feet, the Chattooga River is calm through this area with the occasional shoal. No whitewater here; it’s a soothing, tranquil experience. The trail continues along the river through this calm stretch, passing large boulders covered with Biltmore sedge, a rare northern club moss. Just ahead is the Chattooga Narrows, a dramatic section of the river that cuts under the Chattooga Cliffs on the eastern side.

There is a small waterfall that spills out of the Narrows into a large pool, the first sound of rushing water we heard. The area is surrounded by dense rhododendron thickets and white, sandy beaches. I suspect this is a popular spot for sun and water bathers in warm summer weather. It was fun guessing all the critter tracks in the soft, cushy sand. Most appeared to be possum.

Just past the Narrows we had to navigate a downed tree that had fallen directly across the trail, and began to notice one of those signs of the south — spanish moss. When I lived in coastal South Carolina for awhile about seven years ago, this angiosperm was all over, especially on live oak trees. It’s said that the Chattooga River runs through somewhat of a rainforest, so the increased humidity creates ideal conditions for spanish moss to grow.

The next landmark is Norton Mill Creek. The creek cascades into the river from the west in a terraced fashion, creating a picturesque scene with plenty of places to sit and rest, or dangle your feet in the refreshing water. There is an iron and plank bridge perhaps 40 feet in length that crosses the creek making for a safe traverse. The spanish moss is quite prevalent here. This spot is just about three miles from the trailhead.

Not far past the bridge at Norton Mill Creek, the trail climbs up on the hillside away from the river about 90 feet or so. It was difficult to tell the reason. Most likely the riverbank is particularly steep. The trail stays above the river for perhaps ¾ mile before reaching a trail marker for the Chattooga Loop Trail. There’s nothing exceptional about this spot. It’s like they just decided to rename the trail at this peculiar location. The Chattooga Loop Trail continues southward until it meets Bull Pen Bridge, but this was our destination so we turned around. It was also getting about time for lunch and we decided that Norton Mill Creek would make an ideal scenic setting.

Like further upstream, the Chattooga River narrows again as it approaches the Norton Mill drainage. Solid moss covered granite on each side of the river tightens the passageway and speeds the flow. The Chattooga Cliffs are above to the east, and the terrace of the creek is to the west. We each found a flat, smooth spot of dry granite to sit a bit and enjoy the sights, sounds, refreshing aromas, and some nourishment.

After I had been sitting for a few minutes I began noticing the summer azure butterflies. For some reason they seemed to like my pack. Do you suppose it was something about the color? There were about half a dozen of them hovering around it, and then landing on it. They were a delight, but the marble-sized black flies were a nuisance. Fortunately they didn’t bite, or want my sandwich.

There are a number of sizable granite slabs covered with Biltmore sedge. The picture at the top of this post will give you an idea. Click it for a larger image. The surrounding hillside supports several very large, beautiful hemlock that are unfortunately succumbing to the wooly adelgid infestation. The river pools somewhat after squeezing through the narrows, swirling from the creek’s additional flow. The combination of rushing water, sand, rock, cliffs and disparate foliage creates a splendid scene, one that makes the hike worthwhile. Even the bridge is tastefully done, so it doesn’t distract terribly from the ambience.

After lunch, we followed a bushwhacked semi-trail up Norton Mill Creek a bit to see what was there. It eventually ended in a maze of rhododendron trunks and branches, but not before first offering a view of the bridge and river from above.

We recognized each landmark as we returned on the same path. There were more wildflowers out now, a pleasant reminder of how mild this past winter was, and perhaps a longer blooming season ahead. The climb back up is gradual, so not tiring, simply good exercise. Near the top we met another hiker, a fellow apparently searching for a short hike, because he turned around and raced back to the trailhead when we told him it was at least another mile to the river.

After reaching our car, we decided to continue down Whiteside Cove Road, seeing on the map that it eventually meets Bull Pen Road and ends up in Highlands, NC. Quite a fine drive. We even spotted a pileated woodpecker feeding on a downed log.

For us, this hike was a good introduction to the Chattooga Wild and Scenic River area, and to southwestern North Carolina. It enticed us to want to learn more. Some day soon we will return to explore more of the Ellicott Rock Wilderness that straddles the state lines of NC, SC and Georgia. The river is wilder and the hiking more difficult. There are always more hikes out there waiting… for you too.

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.