Lower Higgins Creek Falls, TN

Fall is here. Autumn is my favorite season – it’s cold, but not such that Interstate travel is a life-and-death gamble, and the trees are blushing with an array of colors. Football dominates the television and big game flees to deeper woods. It’s amazing.

 

I’m often the one to initiate my and Diana’s hiking adventures, but in the case of the hike featured in today’s post, the opposite was true. With the local foliage near peak, Diana demanded to go for a hike a couple of weeks ago – and I was more than happy to oblige.

Diana kindly delegated the hike selection to me, and I chose a relatively short hike to Lower Higgins Creek Falls. I had never hiked this trail before, and even though I knew the water-levels wouldn’t be such to provide for a breathtaking waterfall hike, I knew the scenic trail and the fall foliage would allow more bang for our buck. Lower Higgins Creek drains from the top of the Rich Mountain, between Frozen and Chestnut Knobs, along the northwest border of Unicoi County and the northern edge of the Rocky Fork tract – remote, rugged, and beautiful terrain.

We started early, hoping to finish the hike in time to accommodate plans that afternoon. The early start forced us both to bundle-up – the temperature was near freezing when our boots hit the ground. The trail begins at the terminus of Lower Higgins Creek Road, where it crosses a footbridge of questionable stability as it climbs into the Rich Mountain backcountry. From there, the trail slightly climbs into the valley as it follows Lower Higgins Creek, which becomes farther and farther below the trail along the hike.

We stopped for a break half-way to the falls

The hike was relatively uneventful and short – in only a mile of hiking, the falls are easily visible about 100 feet below the trail. There is a faint spur trail which leads down to the falls from the main trail; in some places, the descent can be tricky. I climbed down first and inadvertently found the ill-advised places to step, while Diana abandoned her pack at the top and made her way down much more gracefully.

As predicted, the water-levels weren’t spectacular, but it was a beautiful scene. Bundles of fallen leaves had stuck to the wet rock-faces and had gathered in small eddies all along the creek. The sun had risen such that it made photography difficult – half of the falls was completely shaded, whereas the other half was brightly lit. Diana and I stayed at the base of the falls for quite some time, joking, snapping pictures, and enjoying the outdoor experience she had requested.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The return hike to the 4Runner was easy – all downhill, and while it had warmed significantly, the autumn crispness lingered in the air. The wind was blowing sporadically and gusts, filled with colorful leaves, crossed the trail, and while it was impossible to photograph, the scene was gorgeous.

As we pulled away on our return to Erwin, the hike had filled us both with a contentment found only by those with a desire to enjoy this brief, rewarding time of year. We laughed as we saw how our head/ear coverings had made a mess of our hair, and as we drove off, my camera that I had sat on the roof of the 4Runner slid over the windshield and crashed onto the rocky parking area. Other than a purely cosmetic dent, it’s fine.

Incidents like this keep me from having a better camera; I can’t have nice things.

Thank God she's got my back!

Thanks for reading!

Devil's Creek, TN/NC

I had a day off a few weeks ago and decided to reach the remote Devil’s Creek Gorge along the TN/NC border. Devil’s Creek flows directly into the Nolichucky River from its source near the top of Flattop Mountain. The scenic gorge carved by the Devil’s Creek drainage is only a fraction of the rugged terrain which can be found along the steep northern face of Flattop. Interesting note: this makes three consecutive posts describing hikes along the TN/NC border – the border bisects the Nolichucky and follows along Devil’s Creek southward.

See?

The Nolichucky River is powerful and has chiseled a steep, wide gorge of its own, with the Unaka Range rising immediately to the north and Flattop and the other Bald Mountains to the south. The river serves as the geographic division between the two mighty mountain ranges which are among the most noteworthy in east Tennessee – with the Bald Mountains spanning a long distance south from Flattop to the Smokies.


Zoomed-in view of the Spruce forest which covers Unaka

It’s through the Nolichucky gorge that it’s easiest to reach Devil’s Creek. CSX Transporation operates a functional rail-line that follows the river at the bottom of the gorge. Parking in Unaka Springs just outside of Erwin allows easy access to the tracks, and it’s a little over 2 miles of a hike to the mouth of Devil’s Creek. The inherent dangers of walking railroad tracks are apparent; it’s also illegal.

Ignoring all that, I started my hike at Unaka Springs and made my way into the gorge. The morning was cool, as the weather had been the two weeks prior, but I quickly made my way into the heart of the gorge and direct sunlight – and it warmed up fast. The level tracks made for easy hiking, despite the awkwardly-spaced ties and large gravel, but it didn’t take long for the beads of sweat on my brow to multiply. My “built-for-the-cold” physique had grown too comfortable with the declining temperatures before my hike, so the 80-degree, high-humidity journey was a draining one.

 

The rough terrain on the northern bank of the Nolichucky

 

 

 

The rail-line had a couple of blind corners that I negotiated quickly, with rusted and contorted train parts scattered on either side of the tracks to provide encouragement. Fortunately, the only train I encountered that day passed while I was off the tracks, taking pictures of the river.

 

 

After a couple of miles of sweating and stumbling along the tracks like a hobo that had a little too much to drink, I made it to Devil’s Creek. There are several creeks that drain into the southern side of the Nolichucky, but Devil’s Creek is easily spotted – a small train trestle crosses the mouth of the creek.

The valley in the distance is Devil's Creek Gorge

 

 

Once I reached the trestle, it was apparent that Devil’s Creek is rugged and picturesque. From the tracks, I could immediately see a small waterfall and cascades, with water tumbling out of the valley. I knew a faint, narrow trail was somewhere on the western bank of Devil’s Creek, but it was difficult to find. Instead, I followed the creek itself for about a quarter-mile, snapping pictures and cooling myself from the unexpected and unwelcome heat.

 

I eventually reached a point where it wasn’t possible to continue upstream – the creek was surrounded by sheer rock on either side and it was too deep for me to be willing to wade, so I turned straight uphill to get around the obstacle. After climbing 30 feet up the ridge, I pulled myself up over an overhanging rock and stumbled onto the trail. It’s fairly common for me to lose or fail to find a trail, only to stumble onto it after a difficult climb.  I wasn’t exactly sure where the trail led – only that it went deeper into the gorge, which is where I wanted to go.

My pace was quick as I followed the narrow trail through the even narrower gorge – the trail had many places which were washed out, where the grade was too steep to maintain the trail’s edge. I was moving pretty fast and quickly gained elevation – before long, the creek was far below me and I could see several sets of cascades and small waterfalls. I knew that a larger, much more significant waterfall was somewhere along the creek, and I was fearful I would miss it. My fears were relieved, however, when the trail I had found led me directly to the waterfall.

 

 

 

It was a steep climb down from the trail to the waterfall, and instead of awkwardly stepping down the ridge, I sat down and slid – much faster. The waterfall is two-tiered, and I did my best to climb to the base of the top waterfall, but every rock offering a foothold was far too slippery. After relaxing at the base of the falls, I climbed back up to the trail and explored the otherwise un-noteworthy portion of the creek above the falls, which only became more overgrown and difficult to follow.

Looking downstream at the rugged gorge

After a lengthy and sweaty hike, I climbed out of the gorge and back down to the Nolichucky. The sun was still obtrusive and you could see the heat reflecting from the tracks. I retraced my steps from before, hopping from tie to tie, and stopped at a large rock-face that rises above the tracks and drops down to the water. I decided I had earned a rest and negotiated the rocks down to the river – I stripped my pack, my boots, tended to a few blisters, and stretched out on a warm rock inches from a deep pool in the water.

The air was cool so close to the water and the nearby rapids were the only sound I could hear; the wind carried the cool air over my body kept comfortable by the rock beneath me. It was so relaxing and it didn’t take long for me to start nodding off to sleep. I felt myself slipping in and out, and I must’ve dozed off for a little while.

I was suddenly shocked back into the waking world by a man’s scream that resonated above the roaring rapids – “LEFT!!!” Between my nap and the rapids only feet away, I had missed two rafts full of helmeted white-water rafters enjoying the same warm weather that had induced my fatigue. In my sleep-induced fugue, I interpreted the man’s command as “Oh, there’s someone on my left, I should probably move to the right.” But the only thing to my right was the Nolichucky. So, as the gleeful rafters were enjoying a beautiful early fall day on the water, they were interrupted by the site of a large man, flailing helplessly as he thrust himself into the river for no good reason. The water was surprisingly deep.

I quickly bolted out of the water and avoided eye-contact with the rafters – they were laughing heartily. My unplanned swim must have seemed like fun, as most of the rafters soon tackled one another out of the rafts and into the depths of the river. I laughed off the embarrassing moment, strapped on my boots, and climbed back up to the tracks and returned to where I had parked. As embarrassing and clumsy as the end of my hike was, that short dip in the water felt wonderful. And the same sun I had cussed earlier that day ensured I was dry by the time I returned to the 4Runner. I was rejuvenated – my lifted spirit served as quite the return on an instant of humility and a mouthful of river-water.

 

 

Thanks for reading!

Unaka Mountain, TN/NC

It should come as no surprise that I’m behind on my posts again; not necessarily behind on my outdoor pursuits, just blogging about them. As it stands, I have 2 posts to write after this one and, as I plan to take full advantage of the fall weather, hopefully many more to come. We’ll see how good I am at playing catch-up.

As my dedicated fan-base has likely noticed, I’ve spent a lot of time in Unicoi Co., TN recently. Diana lives in Erwin and the county offers miles and miles of hiking trails ancient and new; this makes my hike-selection much easier. Unicoi Co. is dominated by mountains – other than a narrow valley which is home to the towns of Erwin and Unicoi, the terrain is quite rugged; and over half of the county is owned by the federal government which provides a significant swath of real estate for wilderness exploration.

Of the many mountains within and along the borders of Unicoi Co., there is perhaps no more well-known than Unaka Mountain. This namesake of the Unaka Range - the mountains which trace the TN/NC border along the county’s eastern edge - towers above Erwin and Unicoi and is easily viewed while traveling down Interstate-26. While Unaka Mountain isn’t even in the top-10 in elevation among the peaks of the Unaka Range (the summits of the Roan Highlands are included in the Unaka Range and are much taller), it still offers beautiful views and great hiking.

Several weeks ago, I decided to get an unusually early start to a hike along Unaka Mountain. It was the first cool day we’ve seen since spring and I had hoped to be greeted by dense fog covering the mountain for an other-worldly hike in the clouds. By the time I reached the summit (easily accessible via Unaka Mountain Road) however, the fog had faded; but the early morning light and the high elevation provided for views that were welcome in place of the clouds.

 

 

 

 

I hiked along both Horseback Ridge and Stamping Ground Ridge, prominent ridges that descend into the valleys below, and the views along the well-maintained trails were spectacular. It didn’t take long for the crisp, refreshing morning air to yield to the thick, warm air of early afternoon – I was so excited to wear a fleece for the first time in months, but it was soaked with sweat and strapped to my pack after a couple of hours.

 

 

 

 

 

After hiking a little over a mile along each ridge, I drove down Unaka Mountain Road to the point where it is nearest to the Appalachian Trail. The AT follows near the eastern edge of the county and climbs over the true summit of Unaka, which sports a beautiful spruce forest more common at more northern latitudes. I parked the 4Runner near the short side-trail that leads to the AT and began my climb. This a very peaceful section of the AT as the trail meaders through the changing forest-types, ascending over 1.5 miles to the summit.

 

 

No views are to be found at the top – the dense spruce canopy prevents any line of sight to the coves miles below and creates an eerie forest environment otherwise found only in the Roan Highlands to the north. Once I reached the summit, I searched for the USGS survey marker signifying the peak. After about 30 minutes of wandering the area and searching the ground and rocks near the top, I gave up. I strapped on my pack and climbed back down to the 4Runner.

Hiking in cooler weather is so revitalizing, and it was good to get a brief glimpse of the seasons ahead. Although I was alone in my hike and it was relatively uneventful, I had a wonderful time – the great views and great weather filled my heart with an alacrity for more gorgeous hikes so uneventfully fulfilling.

Thanks for reading!

Bald Mountains, TN/NC (again)

When I go out to eat, I hate to visit restaurants at which I’ve recently eaten – I try to maintain a rotation that keeps repeat visits far apart. There are some exceptions to this (having a girlfriend certainly makes restaurant-selection a complicated affair), but a list of restaurants at which I would regularly eat is another blog altogether.

 

I take a similar approach to my selection for hiking destinations. Our region has so many beautiful places to visit – waterfalls, scenic views, etc. – but there’s a limit to its splendor. While I certainly haven’t seen all there is to see in the area (not by a long shot), there are plenty of factors which limit my hiking selections: time, daylight, hunting seasons, how spry I’m feeling, etc. But perhaps the greatest limitation is those hiking with me. I’m perfectly happy to dive into briar-thickets and laurel-hells, climb treacherous cliffs and lose myself in a trail-less wilderness on my own; but I’m not comfortable with such recklessness when friends or a girlfriend are in tow (except for Micah, he doesn’t care).

So a few weeks ago, I set out on a hike about which I’ve previously blogged (http://faroutsidethewire.blogspot.com/2012/10/bald-mountains-tnnc.html) with Diana, Micah, and our friend Josh. While our time-limitations and the size of our party restricted our destinations to only a few hikes, this hike along a remarkable stretch of the Appalachian Trail was perfect. My previous hike had been last fall, during peak foliage, and was absolutely gorgeous; being in the middle of summer, this hike was quite different. Everything was so lush and green, albeit the views were slightly more hazy.

Josh dangling his feet into TN

I’ll spare you most of the gory technical details of the hike, but it’s about 4 miles out-and-back with very little elevation change. We began in the shadow of Camp Creek Bald and followed the white blazes of the AT past the spur trails for Blackstaff and Whiterock Cliffs. From here, we continued to wind over the ridgeline of the Bald Mountains until we reached the portion of the trail which climbs from beneath the canopy onto the appropriately-named Firescald Ridge. The exposed, narrow, rugged ridgeline is surrounded by laurel and offers sweeping views into both Tennessee and North Carolina.

Diana, leading us onto Firescald Ridge

 

 

Micah's just happy to be out of the house

 

Diana, adorably enjoying her lunch
 

Why would you bring honey?
 

 

 

 

 

Look at her!

From this section of ridgeline, the AT continues north for quite a distance toward its Unicoi County portion where it actually turns south (despite still being north-bound) to reach Sam’s Gap. But on this hike, we turned around at this point and made our way back to the 4Runner. It was a beautiful day for a hike, and given the heat and humidity that day, I think we all welcomed the hike's brevity.

 

I’ve never been a very decisive person (with restaurants or with hikes), so it’s often nice to have certain factors which serve to narrow the options (right, Tolliver?). And when all the options are so wonderful, especially this hike, I don’t have much reason to complain. Too many options is certainly a good problem to have.

Thanks for reading!

Black Bear Scouting - (location undisclosed)

In anticipation of the upcoming hunting seasons, I realized I was woefully behind in my preparation; my varied outdoor interests don’t end at hiking and bushcraft – I enjoy hunting and fishing as well.  Over the past few years, I’ve taken particular interest in hunting black bear, game in which our region is abundant. I’ve never killed a black bear, but the excitement of the hunt and simply being outdoors and having a forced timeout from the loudness that fills our lives (and even most hikes) is so appealing – and the results of a successful hunt, the meat, the hide, the skull, are pretty appealing too.

 

In regards to hunting, particularly black bear, the old adage is true – when you fail to plan, you plan to fail. So I took some much-needed PTO last week and wandered into the woods of Unicoi Co. to scout a few places I’ve never hunted (or hiked) before. I had done some intensive map-study prior to heading out and had noted a few locations I thought would be my best bets for encountering a bear.

As is typical for days I take off work, the forecast called for rain; and it was quite believable judging from the sky overhead as I hit the trail. I put on my rain-jacket and pack-cover in anticipation of the rain, and after 30 minutes of quietly hiking up a few old trails I was begging for rain – the only thing thicker than the humidity was the gnat-swarm that followed me. My two layers of clothing were soaked in sweat and I killed a few gnats with each blink.

 

The rain never did fall; and after 2 hours and a couple of miles of hiking, I hadn’t seen a single sign. No scat, no tracks, no claw-marks on trees. Not a thing. I climbed down a rocky ridge to a worn but overgrown trail in the bed of an old logging road, when I heard movement up the trail. I turned to investigate and I saw the best sign for which I could’ve hoped…

 

 

Junior is obviously too small to kill, but his mommy won’t be; and I’m sure she was somewhere nearby. I stood in the middle of the trail for about 30 minutes – the cub stayed on the trail ahead of me for about 5 minutes and slowly made his way up the mountain, off-trail and out-of-sight. I don’t believe he realized I was close – my limited camouflage and aura of Scent-A-Way must have hidden my presence well enough. I didn’t want to follow him and upset his guardian, so I stayed put, blazed a tree near where he had stood, marked the location on my map, and then made my way back to my 4Runner. I’ll return in a week or so to explore farther up the trail and the barren ridges above it – hopefully future scouting trips and this season will be equally successful.

Thanks for reading!