A Family Affair

This time last year I finally convinced my folks to take a hike... with me. I told them I would carry almost all the pack weight, all they had to do was walk the trail. I enlisted Greg's help to lighten my load a little. So with great anticipation we headed down the trail to the Three Forks Junction.



Everyone had a great time. So great a time that my parents were ready and anxious to get out there again. This time my mom was excited to bring along my brother JR and his two kids: Dayton (5) and Slade (2). JR wasn't completely convinced, but nonetheless he agreed to go. It should be noted that on our last hike out, we had to pull Momma's reins back a little bit when it came to the packing. She just kept trying to add more and more stuff. Well, on this trip there was a new challenge. Laura, being 9 months pregnant and all, couldn't carry a pack. And the kids couldn't carry packs either. So that left only me and JR to carry Laura's pack, the kids' packs, and any excess not able to fit into Mom and Dad's packs. I made the executive decision to do something drastic. Even though I hate seeing it on the trail, I decided to get a wagon. Yep, one of those red wagons with the big wheels on them. There would be rough spots on the trail, but for the most part we could get it down it. With the two kids' and Laura's packs, not to mention Mom and Dad's extras, me and JR just had no other way to get the gear to the campsite. Normally I would say no way, but I really wanted the kids to experience their first camping trip. Of course, with this new bit of news about the wagon, Momma's face was shining, it meant she could add more stuff. So with all our gear AND our wagon, we headed up to North Georgia to the trailhead.


Ridiculous isn't it?

With much anticipation we were finally on the trail. JR and I swapped out hauling the wagon. Hiking with him was an eerie reminder of hiking with Greg, all go - no slow. I found myself giving that same shpiel (shpeal, shpeel, shpele... I don't know) about enjoying the trail and taking your time. So with that, we let him push on ahead and I fell back to see how the kids were doing. Little did I know, Dayton was hopping right along and wanted to stay with his daddy. Slade was back with Momma getting a bigtime kick out of all the puddles.



So far everyone was be-bopping along great, except maybe Daddy, but we all expected that. Before we knew it we were there, ready to cross the river. It had a few scary spots, but nothing life-threatening. We all managed to cross safely and now it was time to start setting up our camp. JR wasted no time starting a fire (it would become a theme for the trip for him). Momma took the kids and the toys (that's right, she packed up toys) and found a spot to play in the dirt. The toys ended up being useless, the kids' favorite game was throwing rocks into the river. I have about 100 pictures of them getting a big hoot out of just throwing rocks.



We spent the evening hanging out around JR's campfire. We cooked up a little supper and got ready to hit the hay. So far it been a great trip. We had a great hike in, a great first day, now it was time for a good night's rest. The kids conked straight out. There was no peep from Momma and Daddy's tent. I noticed JR hanging out solo around the fire. He said it was his quiet time. He probably stayed up for another hour or so. Then it was all quiet in camp. The next morning everyone rolled out of their sacks slowly. We had some hot oatmeal for breakfast and the kids didn't waste any time getting back near the water to play. We spent the day hopping on boulders and, of course, throwing rocks. I pulled JR away from his duty as fire builder (self-appointed by the way) long enough to climb the Big Creek waterfall.



After climbing the waterfall, it was a quick break, then we packed up. This was the portion we had been hoping to somehow avoid. We got the wagon loaded down, the tents were packed up, we crossed the river and started climbing. The kids had been real troopers the whole trip. Dayton never had to be carried. He loved running along the trail. We carried Slade from time to time, but only to keep him from stopping at every puddle.



With a little help from Slade we got the wagon and all members of our party back to the trailhead in one piece. JR swore he would never be a pack mule again. He said next time he goes he is carrying only his stuff. That made me happy because it meant he might get back on the trail! The kids loved it. Hopefully they will remember this and it will be a jump start to a future in the great outdoors for both them. Momma and Daddy had the same great time they did last year. Laura and I had a great time too. We made a lot of memories with our nephews that we don't get to see too often. It gave us a little taste of what it might be like for us in a few years when Gabriel is hopping around the campsite in Huggies! It was a trip we'll all remember for a long time!

Smokies Mis-Adventure

This is the trip I wrote about earlier. Greg and I have been planning it for a while now. Laura gave me the green light for one last multi-day trip before Gabriel's due date arrived. We planned a 4 day, 3 night trip in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. As the jump off day arrived, wouldn't you know the weather forecast brought us bad news. Spring weather had been in the air for a solid month now, but our week of hiking included the Smokies' last winter storm. Of course! We could expect nightly lows in the single digits, daytime highs no better than mid-40s AND heavy snow that would turn into heavy rain and thunderstorms late in the week. I have always thought the fear of thunderstorms is highly over-rated, but it's one of the top trail killers due to landscape and elevation factors. After only minor deliberation, we decided to press on.

Greg's plane was to arrive in Charlotte at around 4 pm, which would put us at our upscale Gatlinburg resort (or a Super 8 Motel) at around 8 or 8:30. Charlotte is only a 2 hour drive or so from the house, so I was planning to sleep in. At around 8 am the phone rang. I jumped out of bed to answer it. It was Greg. He missed his flight. He got a new flight that had a layover in Atlanta around 8 pm. We're still good. Atlanta is also about 2 hours from the house and we could be in Gatlinburg 4 hours after he touched down. Negative. I can't pick him up on a layover because his bag would still be on the plane. The airline was going to charge him like $1600 to change his flight to actually drop his bags in Atlanta. He wouldn't get to Charlotte until after 10, which would put us in Gatlinburg after 2 am. Our shuttle to the trailhead was scheduled to pick us up at 7:30. Awesome. By the time we got to Asheville, which is about halfway between Charlotte and Gatlinburg, we were already looking at not getting to bed until after 3. I had called the shuttle folks earlier and pushed our pick-up time back to 9:30. The real bad news was that, even though we weren't at any real elevation, the snow had already started falling. By the time we rolled into Gatlinburg 2 hours later, there was about a 3-inch layer on the ground. Not that big a deal. We got in the room and checked the weather report for the park. Snow was up to 14 inches on some peaks. Cancelling at this point really wasn't an option.

We woke up the next morning as late as we possibly could to still be ready for the shuttle pick up at 9:30. My phone rang at 9. The shuttle folks called with bad news. The park had closed all its roads to traffic. Even though the snow wasn't terrible, because the park stays so busy, anytime there is even slightly bad road conditions they have to close them. Our original plan of being dropped off at one end of the park and hiking back to the trail had to be changed. We decided to do it backwards. We would hike out of the hotel, and later thumb a ride back to the hotel. So with the snow only falling lightly that morning, we headed out of the parking lot on foot. Our destination was about 7 miles and 5500 feet away: Mt. Le Conte. We hiked up a road for the first 2 miles or so, gaining about 1500 feet. It was tiring, but the road wasn't collecting any snow, so the going was fairly easy. We finally reached the trailhead and were surprised to see a decent amount of traffic, despite the terrible conditions. Since technically we weren't in the park yet, most of our fellow hikers drove to the trailhead. Nonetheless, we headed up still feeling peppy and ready for a week of the best the Smokies had to offer.



Right at the trailhead sign we were passed by a guy with his two sons. He was probably late thirties, carrying limited gear. He asked where we were headed, and wanted to know if we planned on staying overnight. We told him our goal was Le Conte, and if time allowed we would take the 5.5 mile Boulevard Trail over to the Appalachian Trail and stay at the shelter there. He laughed. Literally laughed. My initial reaction when I run into people like this is to just stop talking to them and continue on with my hike. Greg, however, usually likes to go a little deeper. He wanted to see why the guy doesn't think we can reach it. The guy told us how he has hiked all over this mountain and he knows that when it is covered with fresh powder it is nearly impassible and that with our heavy packs it'll be more than we bargained for. Greg gives him a "you're an idiot" shrug, and we press on.

(forgive me for picture quality. I couldn't take my usual big honkin' SLR on this trip. Had to carry the ol' point and shoot. In this picture I had also just dropped it in the snow.)

The trail was beautiful. The snow had covered everything in white. A picture perfect stream tumbled alongside the trail. The trail itself hadn't collected much snow at this point, so tread was still good. My excitement for the journey ahead was keeping my mind off the pain that was already collecting in my thighs. Not long into the trail we passed a very cheery looking couple. After a few back and forth passes and small conversation at each pass, we finally introduced ourselves to each other. Rebecca and Larry. They were lightly packed and told us their destination was the Le Conte Lodge. Le Conte lodge, simply put, is a little slice of mountain nostalgia heaven on the second highest peak in the Smokies. It's a dining hall and an office surrounded by separate mountain shacks that are truly log shacks. Their only post 19th century amenity is a propane space heater.

(again, sorry for the fuzziness)

We passed Larry and Rebecca again at this small waterfall. We knew Rainbow Falls should be around here somewhere. Knowing that the falls was our halfway point, I asked anxiously if this was it, and Rebecca promised me we weren't near halfway. We slowed enough to grab a snack and Larry took this picture of us. We took a few sips of water, threw the packs back on, and kept on climbing. It wasn't too much later that we reached the real Rainbow Falls. At this point we were high enough that we kept getting these off and on bursts of high wind and snowfall. As soon as we would stop and put our weather gear on, it would stop. The trail was still in good shape, with only a few inches of packed snow. We had to climb past a family that had dropped their packs at the base of the falls for a snack. I was shocked to see that not only had they brought grandpa, they also had a daughter (about 12) and two boys (I would guess 10 and 7 years old). They appeared to be well-equipped though. They offered us some fruit and the dad told us about -15 degree temperatures at the summit the night before along with about 28 inches of snow. Me and Greg both laughed at how the further up the trail we got, the worse and worse the weather reports got.

We crossed below the falls on a skinny snow-covered log bridge and immediately the trail conditions got worse. This was obviously the turn-around point for many of the day hikers who had the trail pretty well packed down up to this point. Now we were more on our own, and prepared to make the final push to the summit. At around 5000 feet I hit my wall. My legs didn't feel terrible, but my body just wasn't letting me travel more than 30 to 50 yards at a time without a break. Now the trail conditions were really started to get bad. We had heard everyone talk about all the snow on the summit, but until now had seen no evidence of it. As slow as we were walking, somehow we were still passing people. Finally we reached a sign saying we were .6 miles from the lodge. Still passing a few slow hikers, we were met by two lodge workers checking up on hikers. They told us there was a warm stove in the dining hall and even those without reservations were welcome to come in and warm up. I think the thought of that warm stove was the motivation that got me up the last 300feet to the lodge.



Walking into this crappy little dining hall felt like walking right into the gates of heaven! We dropped our packs, took off all our weather gear, laid all the wet stuff near the stove, took a seat and started to thaw. It was still somewhat early in the day, probably no later than 4 p.m. Technically, we thought we had time to get across the 5.5 mile Boulevard Trail, but the energy just wasn't there. Not to mention that after walking onto the lodge grounds, we could see that the ground was covered in about 18 inches of snow. We decided this would be it for the day. Looking around, we found no sign of our nay-sayer friend we ran into at the trailhead who told us we couldn't make it up in these conditions. The dining hall was empty, except for one patron who had come up the day before and all the workers. They asked about anyone else headed up to the lodge. We told them about the family we passed at Rainbow Falls and an immediate feeling of worry came across all of them. A couple workers put on snow shoes and went to find the family. They came back about thirty minutes later carrying the small backpacks of the kids, and sweating profusely. One of the workers summoned anyone who could still walk to help with carrying the kids the rest of the way into the lodge. I was ticked at myself for not having enough energy to help, but Greg geared up and headed out with a couple other workers. Another half hour passed and they came rolling in with the most exhausted bunch of people I think I had ever seen. I helped the little guys get out of wet clothes and get set up near the fire. We later learned that the reason for such urgency on the part of the Le Conte Lodge staff was because, at this same time last year, a storm a little less extreme than the one we were in hit, and a man sat down at the sign that read ".6 miles to lodge". The next morning they found him frozen to death. He was wearing tennis shoes, blue jeans, and a cotton sweater.



Next on the schedule was dinner. Earlier, the lodge manager offered us one of the rooms. To get a room at this lodge you have to enter your name on the list on the first day it comes open, and even after that you have to get your name selected from a lottery pool. Its pretty hard to do. Larry and Rebecca told us that this was the fifth year they tried to get a room. So when he offered a room, he had my attention.. that was until he said it cost $120 per person. I reluctantly declined. After the mini rescue, he offered again, only this time he said it was on the house. Sweeeeeeet! Talk about a once in a lifetime deal falling in your lap. I immediately accepted, then turned to Greg. Greg, of course, felt the need to decline. He wanted to stay out in the shelter. Trail shelters almost always resemble a life size version of the stable from a nativity scene; three walls and a roof with one wall completely open to the elements, and on this mountain at this time of the year, there was no shortage of elements. In any other situation I would have went along with Greg. I would have declined the room and slept in my bag in the cold. But this, this was different. Declining that room wasn't even an option. I told Greg he was on his own, and I carried my pack to the cabin they let me stay in. That night we had a meal on the house, then parted ways for the evening.



I put all my wet clothes around the furnace, took some pain pills, and was out of it in a matter of seconds. The next morning I woke up and peeked outside the door. Even though we arrived early the evening before, the clouds kept all the mountain vistas hidden. Peeking out the door gave me my first glimpse of what makes Mt. Le Conte one of the Smokies' finest jewels.



After soaking all that in for a few minutes, I walked back up the dining hall for a delicious breakfast. The day before, me and Greg had sort of taken on a celebrity status amongst the other hikers. They thought we were crazy for hiking up all the way from town, with huge packs on, to stay in the shelter. Greg caught everyone's ear when he refused the room, so when I showed up, all the other patrons wanted to know if Greg survived the night. I laughed and told them I didn't know. They began serving breakfast when Greg finally rolled in. Applause broke out and he sat down, taking a glass of water and no food. We said our goodbyes to Rebecca and Larry and all the other people we had come to know over our short stay at the lodge. I ran up to the office to buy a T-shirt and took a couple more pictures from the deck. After that we were off to break trail on The Boulevard.

THE BOULEVARD TRAIL.

We had been politely warned by some of the Le Conte workers about The Boulevard. No one had been on it for the entire three day period of the snow storm. They told us how it was a ridge hike, meaning that it was exposed to elements from every angle. Also, when you hike on ridges, wind is always much worse than it is in other places. We expected it to be slow going, but we really didn't consider not going an option. Immediately after leaving the lodge the snow on the trail started to slow us down. A few tenths of a mile up the trail we passed the shelter Greg stayed in the night before, only reaffirming that I made the right choice by staying in the lodge.



It didn't take long to get out of the tree line and get our first 360 degree panorama of the Smoky Mountains. Those views were some of the best views I've experienced anywhere. The fresh powder added an artist's touch to an already surreal scene.



The further down the trail we got, the deeper the snow got. Often times we were hiking through drifts that were waist deep. After every step we had to take a break, swing your weight forward, pull your back leg out of the snow and swing it forward to take the next step. The going was slow across the entire trail, but in those sections it was super slow. The elevation change along the trail was minor. 5.5 miles like this would normally take us 3 hours, maybe less. We didn't reach the junction with the Appalachian trail until around 3 pm, 6 and a half hours after we started. Again we had to revamp our itinerary.



We were supposed to press on another 6 miles, cross Newfound gap and Hwy 441 and climb part of the way up to Clingman's Dome. Again, the snow got the best of us. We decided instead to just head down the trail in the opposite direction about two tenths of a mile to Icewater Spring Shelter. This was the first time Greg was completely onboard with cutting our day short. He led the way across the Boulevard, so he did all the trail breaking.



When we first got to the shelter, we had the place to ourselves. Honestly, in these conditions I didn't expect much of a crowd. Through the early part of the evening we had a couple of groups stop there for lunch, be they all pressed on. At about 6, a couple and their 7-year-old stopped in for the evening. Then a couple of AT thru hikers. Then another group of about 5 guys from Ohio. Then a couple more AT thru hikers. After the sun went down, still more AT hikers showed up. Before it was all said and done there were about 17 people crammed into that shelter for the night.


This picture was taken when we were still at only half capacity.

The crowd was less of a bother than I originally thought. It was interesting hearing the thru hikers talk about their adventures up to that point. By then most of them had been on the trail right at a month. They all agreed on one thing, the Smokies sucked. The elevation changes here are the worst of their entire trip. The other good part about sharing the shelter with them was that in the morning we didn't have to worry about listening to them anymore. They were fun, but one night was enough.



The next morning we took our time fixing breakfast and seeing off thru hikers. We caught a sunrise and packed up. The evening before, some of the snow started to melt, but it refroze overnight, once again ensuring that trail conditions were as far from optimal as possible. On the way down, a hot spot I had on my heel really started to get bad. I tried doctoring it a few times, but it just felt worse and worse. By the time we got down to Newfound Gap, it was so bad I couldn't walk. I took my shoes and socks off to have a look. A woman with a first aid kit came running over and tried to help. We got it taped up enough to make it stop hurting, but we still didn't know how it would hold up on our 3000 foot climb up to Clingman's Dome. We crossed 441 and headed up the AT. We made it a mere 500 feet in elevation, and probably no more than a mile or two when the blister dressing came off. Luckily the trail came back in contact with the road, and there was an area we could stop and take off our packs. Again, a woman with her family caught a glimpse of my heel and offered to give me a ride. I hated to do it, but I had to bail.



Greg wasn't very happy, but what could I do? I gave it a pretty good effort I thought. I probably pushed about three miles too far actually. I told Greg my hike was officially over. There was a couple of AT thru hikers there. I offered them all my trail food and took the lady up on her offer for a ride up to Clingman's Dome where I was going to meet Greg.

From here the rest of my trip in the Smokies consisted of thumbing rides, doctoring my blister, and taking in roadside views of the Smoky Mountains. Later that evening I picked up Greg from the top of Clingman's Dome. He decided to go ahead and go back to the hotel a night early with me. We grabbed a good steak dinner at Texas Roadhouse and crashed at the luxurious Super 8 Motel at an early hour.

The next morning we woke up to rain and thunderstorms. We knew Friday's forecast called for rain, but we both expected it to be evening showers. Had we been on the trail it would have been frozen snow on the ground, heavy rain falling from the sky, and lightning. I looked at Greg and said, "Not a bad move getting off the trail, huh?" Of course, he disagreed. We laid around for a while, and at about noon the rains finally let up. According to the Weather Channel we only had three hours or so of clear skies. We rushed up the road and took a short hike to Laurel Falls.



Even this short trip gave us a little something unexpected. The hike was along an asphalt paved trail with only slight elevation change. We were passing people of all physical ability levels. We got to the waterfall. It wasn't thirty seconds later when we heard a rumble, then a loud crash. The family that had just left the falls to return to the parking area came running back to the other side of the falls with pale faces. There was a rock slide right next to the falls. The rocks came from high above the trail, hit a free-fall of about 50 feet and crashed into the trail. It didn't stop there. The boulders were so big they went right through... yes through the asphalt trail, taking about 6 feet of dirt and rock from beneath the trail with it, down to the river below. The boulders missed us by less than thirty seconds, and they missed that poor family by a matter of inches. We went back to the ranger station and let them know of the damage to the trail. With the storm pressing in we decided to head back up to Clingman's Dome and see what it looked like in a hail storm.



From there we went back into town and completely destroyed a 20-inch pizza. We spent that evening recovering from our trip and walking around the crummy tourist town that is Gatlinburg, Tennessee. It was pretty cool to look up at the mountain that stood over the city and know that I climbed it. The next morning we packed up, stopped for pancakes at a diner that amounted to a glorified Waffle House and headed back to Charlotte Airport.

I got the vibe from Greg that he considered this trip a bit of a disappointment. I saw it coming. Anytime we don't go from start to finish on any trail, it's like a failure to him. We discussed how he puts more emphasis on covering ground than having a good time, like I do. To me, if having an enjoyable trip means 10 miles instead of the 15 we planned, I say do 10. Its a dilemma many hikers face. I got to stay at Le Conte Lodge for free, we saw the Boulevard Trail like only very few people ever have, and we spent some time in Gatlinburg laughing at the abundancy of white trash. The weather didn't agree with our itinerary, but I felt we still made the best of it. All in all I considered this one a success.

Not long after dropping Greg off, I got a call from my brother. He was cruising down 95 with his two kids, headed to the house. He said he should be in Columbia the same time I get there on my way home. No break on this weekend adventure.

To be continued....

Our First Spring Fling

The original plan for the first weekend in spring was to tour the hospital where Gabriel is to be born. We also needed to attend some birthing classes and maybe some good ol' breastfeeding seminars too. Don't get me wrong, I want to do everything I can to make sure Gabriel's transition from womb to world is as smooth as possible, but that doesn't mean I couldn't get a little excited when we found out the hospital tour and classes were full this weekend. The weekend had officially become plan free!

Our last time out it became official: No more camping for Laura until the baby comes. With this in mind, I started making hotel arrangements. The great thing about the mountains is that you get away from all the commercial and industrial garb of the city. The bad thing is, if you don't plan on camping, good luck finding a hotel. We called up Dennis to see if he wanted to go too, and hey, maybe we could crash at his parents in Greenville again! (See previous post for details.) Well, he was working, but he said we could crash there without him, no big deal. I was sure it wouldn't be a big deal, but I hate feeling like I might be inconveniencing people, even though in this case I knew Dennis' parents would enjoy the company. Sure enough, when we arrived in Greenville, Mrs. Dennis was excited to see us. We had an absolutely great time. I never thought I would go to Greenville and enjoy the company more than I enjoyed the trails, but that was certainly the case this weekend. We spent the first night enjoying her stories about her kids. Saturday night they listened to our account of the day on the trails and on Sunday we went to church together and enjoyed a great meal at Chipotle... our FAVE! And I'm not sure, but I think Gabriel may have gained new grandmother along the way. Anyhow, anyone reading this is probably here for the pictures and/or the account of the trails, so here you go.


(Laura, me and Austin chilling at the base of Bridal Veil Falls)


We started off late Saturday morning. We headed up the winding road that leads into the Middle Saluda River watershed of western North Carolina. First, we had to go through Caesar's Head State Park. Right before the entrance, after gaining a couple thousand feet by road, we stopped at a roadside granite monolith with a low enough angle you could walk out onto it. The bad part of it was that being so close to the road, it was covered with graffiti. The good part was the view was pretty unbeatable. I'll wait for the part when sunset comes to put up the pictures. From there, with a short stop at the Caesar's Head Visitor's Center, we went on to the Bridal Veil Falls trailhead. The trail was an anti-climactic hike down gated gravel roads to the falls. The mountain bikers were out in full force on this first weekend of spring. The waterfall was pretty busy, but with so many viewing areas the crowds weren't a problem at all.

This waterfall is hard to describe and even harder to photograph. About 120 feet above where the trail meets the base of the falls, Bridal Veil makes its first sheer drop of about 10 feet over a granite ledge. After that tumble, the water spreads wide and thin on a huge granite mountain face. It's too wide and too tall to get into a picture, especially on a sunny day when the thin water reflects the sun's rays straight into your lens en masse.


The big granite slope of the falls.

The water reaches the bottom of the granite in many separate sections but eventually meets back up, forming a shallow, sandy river bed and disappearing into the woods of DuPont State Forest. It was such a perfect day. Maybe a slight chill when the wind blew, but any hiker will tell you that beats hot and sweaty. We flopped down on a big bolder, had a snack, and just soaked up the sun.


Me at the top of Bridal Veil Falls where it makes its initial drop.

After hanging out and trying to get a good picture of the waterfall, I scrambled up to the top of the falls. It really wasn't a scramble at all. The easy slope and smooth granite made for a stroll easy enough for even the feeblest of hikers. I could hardly suppress the urge to slide down the big rock face, but the water crashing violently into the rocks at the base convinced me not to.

From there, we headed back to the car and after stopping to check out a huge flock of Eastern Turkey hens being chased through a pasture by some excited jakes, we continued up the road to Hooker Falls.



Hooker Falls was a little disappointing. The parking area looked like a Wal-Mart parking lot the day after Thanksgiving. The trail, excuse me, dirt road, that led to the base of the falls was populated by people in jeans, mini-skirts, dresses, high heels, and those over-sized skate-boarding shoes. There was even a family of four on bikes (which is crazy because the road is at best a quarter mile to the base of the falls) where the mom, bringing up the rear, was holding the leash attached to a mini-poodle. I never thought I would say this, but the natural beauty of the falls, in my opinion was completely sapped by all the man-made garbage they put around it, making it accessible for everyone. I never thought I would say anything like that. Don't get me wrong, waterfalls can still be great with maintained trails and observation decks nearby, but something about this one just didn't seem to balance well.


Hooker Falls from the side.

From there we walked back to the parking lot. Laura decided to chill in the car while I crossed the bridge and headed upstream to get a glimpse of Triple Falls. It was a very nice change of pace from the over-crowded Hooker Falls. The sun had started retreating, so all those in mini-skirts had to get back to their warm cars. This waterfall was really quite a treat. Three absolute beauties, one right after another. They had carved out plenty of room at their base for you to safely roam around near the falls without being in real danger. If I posted all the pictures I took of these three falls, I might overload the website. I'll leave you with this one. Although I spent most my time right underneath each falls, I was able to get this from a gap in the trees that allows you to see all three falls at once, a real treat.



After a few more shots of the tumbling creek below the falls, I headed back to the car. There was just enough time for us to make it back to the aforementioned rock overlook to catch the sunset.



You can't see it well, but the mountain you see in the right portion of the picture is Table Rock, a South Carolina icon. This was the visual highlight of the trip. It didn't show up on film, but from here you could also catch a small glimpse of the Greenville skyline. Before it went completely dark we headed up the road to get a few shots of a roadside waterfall we sped past on the way in.


lower portion


upper portion

Compared to last weekend, it didn't seem like we got as much hiking in as we should have, but the slow pace this weekend was a nice change. We woke up late, we lounged on rocks, and we enjoyed some great company. With the reality sinking in that Augusta may be my home for another 4 years or so, it was a welcome relief knowing that weekend getaways like this one, at the Dennis house in Greenville, are just up the road.

The Golden Corner Never Disappoints

Man! Did it ever feel good to get back out on the trails. It seems like it's been forever. The last post had me thinking surely I wouldn't get to head back out for another 2, probably 3 months. I bumped into Dennis at work and he was chomping at the bit, ready to go. I, of course, had to oblige him. We made plans for a night hike into Burrell's Ford campground. It's a super short walk into a semi developed primitive camp site along the South Carolina side of the Chattooga River. Laura decided to give this one last go. The hike to the campsite was a short one and the next day she would spend most of the time acting as our taxi, rather than hiking with us. We'll call her the Prego Trail Warrior. Things went off pretty much without a hitch. Dennis brought along his brother, Robert. They decided to drive up separately and meet us at the trailhead. We walked down with headlamps blazing and got to the campsite without a hiccup. The weather was a little chillier than anticipated, but other than that all was well. We set up and got ready for bed. That night the trip appeared to be taking a turn for the worst. We already knew that Laura was pretty much done with the hiking part of our weekend adventures, but the sleepless night in the cold and on a very thin ground pad proved to be the end of her camping part of our weekend adventures as well. (That is, of course, until after our bundle of joy arrives.)



The next morning I was up bright and early and wanted to get at least a little fire going so Laura could get some sort of warmth when she rolled out of her bag. Dennis joined me shortly there after, and along with his brother we decided to make the short hike over to King Creek Falls (above). This was one I visited back in the fall of '07 and it certainly made an impression then. The trail from Burrell's Ford is only about a half mile, but is very pleasant. The rhododendron makes a tight canopy overhead for the first portion of the trail. Then you meet a junction with the Foothills Trail, cross a short bridge over King Creek, then follow the tumbling creek up to the falls. We hung out there for about a half hour. I got busy snapping photos. Notice that the north (left) side of the falls has icicles clinging to the granite. Geez... last night was colder than we thought!



I snapped a few more pictures of the remnants of the winter storm that had blown through only about 48 hours earlier. We then headed back to camp to be sure Laura hadn't been eaten by any bears. To our surprise she was up and at 'em, and doing a better job of gathering fire wood than I had. At that point we decided to head on over to another short hike, this one to Spoonauger Falls. On my trip to the area in the winter of '07 this waterfall eluded me. At the time I had no GPS. Without a GPS, you have to be a little more careful on searching for unknown trails. After a short search, I called the search off, only to find out after looking at a map I had turned around about a quarter mile short. SO! Off we headed, GPS in hand, to find Spoonauger Falls.



I tried climbing the battered south (left) side of the creek bank to get a better angle on the falls. The angle from down low makes this one seem much shorter than what it is. Compared to the above picture of King Creek Falls, you would think Spoonauger was much short, but actually it measures about 5 feet higher. Some waterfalls are more photogenic than others. The creek valley formed by this unnamed stream appears to be pretty hard hit by downed trees and erosion. The hike over to the falls parallels the unpaved Burrell's Ford road. At this point the trail overlaps the Chattooga River Trail (a multi-day trail on my short list). After the trail crosses the road it's only a short distance, and a hop over a small stream, where the Spoonauger Falls trail climbs slightly up and to the right. An interesting piece I read about this waterfall, the name of the falls comes from a family that used to live at the top of the waterfall. That came as a shock to us who saw the relief of the mountains in that area. We're still not sure where they would have put a house. We played around a little, then headed back to the campsite to pack up and head out.



Our original plan to do an 8 mile point-to-point hike was quickly thwarted when we saw that the forest service was doing a controlled burn on one of the mountains we were planning to hike on. So we headed in to town and decided to make new plans over Arby's. First up, we were going to hike down the Winding Stairs Trail. This trail is named for its short series of steep switchbacks. The little secret it holds is in the form of the Miuka Falls Series. It really isn't a secret. The secret is actually getting down to a place where you can view the waterfalls, rather than just hear them.



It wasn't easy getting this shot. The well hidden side trail comes in from the north (left). The interesting thing about this creek is that there is no creek bed. Because of there being an abundance of granite in these mountains, sometimes the water can't cut into the rock to form a bed. That's part of the reason you see so many granite faces behind the waterfalls in my pictures. Well, where this water is trying to escape the mountain happens to be a long running vein of granite. So instead of the stream flowing down the mountain in a creek bed, its sliding down the mountain almost like water would flow down your windshield. Getting across to the other side of that slippery slope was a scary prospect. If you slip, the angle isn't dangerous, but who knows when you would actually find a stopping point.


(This is a shot of Austin trying to manueuver the aforementioned slippery granite.)

From here we made our way back up to the trail and headed on down. Lower Miuka Falls was a little of a let down, especially after the off-trail bushwhacking we had to do to get to it. The walk down from there was nice and relaxing. It was a pretty steep descent. Lucky for us we had a ride waiting on the bottom, relieving us of the duty of climbing it back to the top. At the bottom we stumbled upon some huge wads of course black animal hair about 2 inches long. Don't worry, no bear encounter. We met back up with Laura (who was trying to recoup some of her lost sleeping time from the night before) waiting in the Jeep. At that point we decided to head on up another trail for a short half mile romp to another waterfall.



Crane Creek Falls isn't overly impressive. Its unusual shape and flow are really what sets this one apart. The hike over is a really short walk up Crane Creek from the parking area. About half way between the falls and the camping area there is a nice clearing in a bend in the creek perfect for setting up camp. We didn't spend too much time here. The sun was heading down and we really wanted to get in one last trail.

We can undoubtedly say we saved the best for this trip, and that's saying a lot. The guide book warned us, "Lee Falls is the Upstate's best kept secret." The trail is apparently very lightly used by locals, and almost unheard of to most people who come to the area as tourists. (The only way I found out about it was by getting a hold of a cheaply made SC waterfall book.) We got to the trailhead knowing time was going to be a crunch. Laura decided to hang back on this one since we would be double-timing it in and out to beat the sunset. Just in case, we stuffed our headlamps into our pockets and pushed off. The trail started by leading us through, of all things, three pastures. I can see why many avid hikers would avoid this trail. You start by walking nearly a mile through a tractor-maintained pasture. Shortly after you join up with Tamasee Creek. The guide book talks about an old gold operation that used to be in the area. On the way back we found the old gold smelter. Neat. Because of its light use, the trail was hard to follow. But after about a mile and a half we were not disappointed.



Lee Falls drops softly in three sections about 100 feet before coming in contact with the base of the cliff. It continues to fall sharply in smaller sections for another 50 feet before leveling out. I could have spent an entire evening shooting this waterfall. Unfortunately time was not on our side. I tried to scamper up the steep banks quickly to get a good shot. Again, it was pretty cool seeing portions of the cliff face frozen from the winter storm. We didn't get to spend much time here, but the time we were here was spent looking up and gawking. Dennis quickly tagged it as the most impressive he had ever seen. It certainly falls into my top five (not exactly sure where). I still leave Virgin Falls, Tennessee, at my number one (see my first blog entry for details). We all but ran back to the parking area, getting back just before the last rays of daylight slipped behind the Blue Ridge.

WHAT A DAY! We had planned to camp that night as well, but with Laura having such a rough go the night before, I didn't wanna put her through that again. Luckily, Dennis' parents live in Greenville. We headed over and got a fresh shower and a nice meal. It was a prefect ending to a great day on the trail. As usual, leaving this area for Augusta made me wish I could spend every day in the Upstate. We'll be back first chance we get!!!!

Reality Check

I have looked forward to this for such a long time. Probably an abnormally long time. Usually it's the woman in the relationship, but in our relationship it's me. May can't get here fast enough. We've made it out a couple times since Laura has been pregnant, but I knew the time would eventually come when she would have to forgo the trail. We had planned a trip for this weekend. It seemed like my first in such a long time, but in reality it hasn't really been long at all. Well, last minute Laura decided to cancel, and made the tough call of saying she was probably done hiking until Gabriel arrives. Of course, once he gets here it'll be a good while after that before she is able to make it back out. If I go without her, does that make me a bad husband/father? I'm sure she would tell me to go ahead and go but I think I would feel guilty. But man, without that, we're talking probably a year without sleeping in a tent.... yikes!

Not Our Usual "Weekend Adventure"

Wow. It really was just as amazing as I thought it would be. We kinda last minute decided to drive up for the week. My wife's family lives near D.C. and her sister and brother were both visiting from far off lands, so we decided to make it a "two birds with one stone" trip. Once we decided we were going to go, I really started to get excited about the whole thing. The media coverage was unprecedented. The crowd estimates, if they held, were to be larger than anything else that had ever taken place in D.C. And that's quite a history of events. I couldn't wait to be a part of history.

We showed up the weekend before and the weather had been brutal. Wind chills were below zero. Snow was falling. It was cold. VERY cold. I hoped that it would warm up, and it did. It got into the thirties for the first time all week on Inauguration Day. Boy, didn't I feel lucky. We had to wake up at about 2:30 that morning. The plan was to be at the Metro station by 3:30. We would hopefully unload near the Mall around 5:00 a.m. and be in place before 6:00. Everything went pretty smooth. The crowds at the Metro station were brutal and so were the masses moving from the Metro to the Capitol. Luckily, once we actually got out onto the Mall (after security detoured us all the way around the Capitol) things weren't as bad as I expected. We moved to a decent spot with a nice view of the Capitol. Considering it was still well before 6 in the morning, some might have hoped for a closer seat, but it was better than I expected.

Here we were, at 5 something in the morning and the wind chills were in the single digits. There was nothing to do to warm up, yet people from all over the world were moving in tight for, at best, a lousy view of the event. Already I was struck with amazement. Everything to this point had given all these people every reason in the world to be ticked. No sleep. Terrible weather. Huge crowds. A crappy view. But everyone I saw had a smile on there face, and wouldn't have rather been anywhere in the world.



So there we were perched comfortably (relatively) between the Capitol and the Washington Monument. The Capitol was glowing in the night. It was kinda surreal (a theme for this whole experience). The monument stood behind us, and already the crowds stretched past it, on to the reflecting pool.



Finally, after 2+ hours of standing in the dark cold with nothing to do but take in the surroundings, the jumbo-trons came to life. They started playing clips from the concert that was held in front of the Lincoln Memorial two days before. The music was, to me, the greatest part of the day. I wished so bad we had came down for it. There were some of the biggest names in music, traveling across the country and singing (usually just one song) for little to nothing, except for the chance to say that they were there. Garth Brooks absolutely brought the house down. He sang Don McLean's "American Pie". Nearly the whole crowd was singing and dancing along. Then he went to exit the stage, because up to this point all the artists only sang one song. He paused right at the edge of stage and belted, "waaaaiaaaiaaat a miiiiinute...you know you make me wanna SHOUT!" The crowd absolutely came unglued. People everywhere were jumping and singing along. There I was, a guy you will never catch dead dancing in public, throwing my hands in the air singing and hopping around like a high school cheerleader. He had almost everyone there singing and dancing together. It, again, was surreal. The song ended and everyone clapped and laughed with each other, even people they obviously didn't know. From then on the cold weather was only an afterthought. I was witnessing history.

You can imagine what the rest of the event was like. The crowd was on edge waiting for Obama to show up. Every time the live cameras shot him moving through the building the crowd would go crazy, even though were introducing some Congressman no one had ever heard of. When he got his final introduction, the screams went to a higher, louder level. Then finally, for what was a lifetime of waiting for some of the wheelchair-bound people near me, Obama was officially sworn in. When they finally said "Congratulations, Mr. President," I think every foot on the Mall left the ground. He then gave a speech that had 2 million people begging for more. After the fact, I was looking through my pictures and realized that I had snapped a photo of everything that happened that day, but during the swearing in and Obama's speech, I was so caught up in everything I didn't get a single picture of him. I mean really, it was that surreal. I'll remember it for the rest of my life.

*for an interesting international perspective on the event, you can click the title of this blog and it will take you to a website by the BBC with some interesting comments.

Panther Creek Falls

Dennis sent me a text message about two weeks ago. It read, "Man, I wanna go backpacking!" He hadn't been out since back in the fall when I took him to the Golden Corner of South Carolina for his first backpacking trip. (See the "Another Lifer" entry for more details). I had just finished reading Backpacker Magazine's entry on what was voted the best hike in Georgia, Panther Creek Falls (click on the title of this blog for a link to their website's trail description). So we set it up, and Monday after some early morning appointments we both had, we headed off.

We got to the trailhead a little later than I planned. The last thing I wanted to do was finish the hike and set up in the dark. It's just annoying. So, we had 3.6 miles of trail ahead of us and a little less than 2 hours of daylight left. With that in mind, we left the sight-seeing for tomorrow's return hike and kept a steady pace till the falls. We got there in almost exactly an hour. Pretty darn good trail time. We set up and still had a decent amount of sunlight left to soak in the scenery.



Here we all are in front of the tent. Austin is the tan one on the left, then me in the blue, then Star sitting in the middle, then Dennis. The waterfall was so much taller than we expected. The pictures we had seen before didn't make the waterfall appear more than maybe 30 feet high. In actuality the waterfall was all total about 120 feet tall. Even in this picture you can't see the water as it tumbles from around the rock outcrops on the left. At the base of the falls was a really nice sandy area that made for the perfect place to set up camp. The base of the waterfall is a huge breath-taking pool perfect for swimming. No, we didn't swim. It was in the 20's when we got there and got even colder as the night progressed. The creek past the waterfall was littered with car sized boulders. All in all it really was a great spot to set up a tent.


Now, the hike in... well it could have been better. To start, the trailhead was on a busy two-lane road, with room for only three vehicles. When we got there, all three spots were taken. It presented quite the danger opening the hatch of the Jeep and letting the dogs out so close to a busy road (yeah, I forgot their leashes). Right off the bat you have to walk under an overpass while on the trail. Shortly after that you come to a clearing for high rise powerlines, where a huge cable also passes over the creek, protruding from the high creek bank, then disappearing into the other side. There is tons of construction debris from the overpass and trash from passing vehicles. Luckily, you quickly disappear into the thick woods of the Chattahoochee National Forest. The next slight disappointment is that, although the creek rumbled loudly below, you are so far above it and the foliage is so thick, you can't see anything going on in the creek. Finally, after about a mile, you reach the creek's side. By this time the water has calmed down quite a bit. This is when the trail really became enjoyable. There were an alarming number of fallen large timbers, but other than that it was a very scenic trail. There were flat areas for camping all along the bank. A few times the trail rises above the creek, mainly at the numerous sharp bends. During the last mile, the creek begins to give you some hint of what lies ahead. Then finally you start hearing the rumble of Panther Creek Falls. The trail takes you along a rock outcrop that hangs at the very edge above the huge waterfall, where you get a nice view of the camping area below.


Your options once at the campsite are to either continue on the banks of Panther Creek to the eastern terminus at Yonah Camp/Yonah Dam. That is supposed to be another 2 miles or so (I can't verify that because we didn't hike it). Or, of course, backtrack to the main trailhead at the Panther Creek Recreation area. Be prepared for a bit of a climb. 750 feet in all, with most of it coming in that last mile.