Hidden Valley Lake & Brumley Mountain, VA

I’m blessed to live in a region with a diverse selection of hiking opportunities – one of the best being Hidden Valley Lake near Lebanon, VA.  It isn’t as well-known as other locations, but Hidden Valley Lake is a unique geological feature which sits in a small valley atop Brumley Mountain. The ridge that surrounds the lake is punctuated with large boulders, cliffs, and outcroppings which combine to make for an adventurous and scenic hike typically found at the cost of greater exertion. While a bit out of the way for most, the hike doesn’t present very much elevation gain – while the mountain itself rises over 2,000 feet from the land surrounding it, the hike is a climb of only the final 400 – and is only about 3 miles in length out-and-back.

Several weeks ago, Diana, my friend Micah, and I decided to take advantage of our collective time off work – something which becomes more rare with each passing year – and hit the trail around Brumley Mountain. Micah and I have made this hike several times, but this was Diana’s first time to Hidden Valley; and as my first guest-contributor, she’ll share her thoughts later in this post.

We were granted a beautiful day for a hike, but being a trail less-traveled than most, the wilds of southwest VA had begun to reclaim the path worn through the woods. I failed to advise Diana on proper clothing for this hike – with all the briars and brush, she really needed long pants – so I’m sure she didn’t care for her experience of pushing through thick undergrowth in her workout capri pants. Micah and I have plenty of experience in exploring off-trail in woods so overgrown it’s hard to move and we are all too familiar with the challenges of certain trails in the summer, so we and each wore a solid, thick pair of hiking pants – when Diana and I picked Micah up from his house, I immediately realized we were actually wearing the exact same pants.

The first part of the hike wasn’t much fun for anyone – the trail, wet from recent rains, quickly dives into laurel thickets and, at times, is merely the course of a small creek. In places, crawling is necessary. The first 0.75-1.0 mile slowly grows clearer as you gain elevation, and the wider portion of the trail ends at a flat rock poised in an opening of the tree canopy and offers the first of many scenic views.

 

From this first vista, the trail is much narrower yet much more clear. The last 0.5mile-0.75mile is almost completely flat and the trail ends at a playground of large boulders that leads to the best set of outcroppings and cliffs and the terminus of the ridgeline.
 

I’ve hiked this trail probably a dozen times over the years, but I never knew the final outcropping had a name. While hiking the final portion of the trail, I was surprised to find a sign recognizing one of my favorite spots as Buzzard Rock. This section of the hike is a portion of the 14-mile-long Clinch Mountain Trail which follows the primary ridgeline from Hayter’s Gap at Route 80 to Low Gap below Hidden Valley Lake – directional arrows have appeared along the trail over the past couple of years, the trail has become a little nicer, and now there’s a sign.

 

 

As I mentioned, the trail essentially ends at a large collection of fragmented outcroppings and boulders and it’s up to the hiker to make it to the end at Buzzard Rock. After jumping over deep chasms and climbing up and down small cliffs and boulders, you emerge through the trees and rocks into the sun. The views are well-worth the effort.

 

 

 

 

Oh, Buzzard Rock - now I get it

 

We all took our time and had fun on the exposed terminus of the ridgeline, taking in the gorgeous vistas and enjoying the company of each other.

 

Micah, stop goofing off...

 

The best view of the hike!

 

I said to stop goofing off...

 

Look, I'm not mad, just disappointed...

 

 

 

The blades on this trip - notice Diana's knife on the far right

 

We traced the route back to my 4Runner and ended the day with great pictures, great memories, and the great feeling which comes only as a result from experiencing the best our local, relatively untamed wilderness has to offer. We brushed ourselves off, kicked the mud from our boots, and met our friends Ben and Josh for dinner at Macado’s in Bristol – it was truly the only way we could’ve improved on the day we had.

Diana, leading us home

 

Oh! I almost forgot – as promised, Diana produced a brief account of this hike. Enjoy her female flair! (We all know this bachelor pad of a blog could certainly use a woman’s touch.)

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For those that don't know me very well, most people would say that most days I am the “make-up did”, accessorized, girly girl. On occasion, however, I like to be adventurous and don’t mind getting my hands dirty. That is just what I did with “the boys” on our day hiking.  You would assume that between my loving boyfriend and his compassionate best friend, one of them would think to let this girl know we would be hiking through thorny, muddy, off trail forest. As you can guess, they did not, and while the boys were well-prepared with their thick hiking pants, I was of course in my capri work-out pants and ready for a stroll on a trail. It did not take long before we were crawling underneath brush and through the mud. Luckily, only minor injuries were to be had.

Don’t tell Ben, but I have to admit that the view from Buzzard Rock and the laughs along the way were well worth the scrapes, bruises, and definite muddiness at the end of the day.

 

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 Thanks for reading!

Sill Branch Falls & Pine Ridge Falls, TN

I take my hikes very seriously. The sense of adventure, the communion with nature, the time for prayer and reflection – I deeply value moments I have alone in the woods.

But sometimes, it’s all about having fun.

A few weeks ago, Diana and I were afforded gorgeous, albeit unseasonably cool, weather and decided to hike to two waterfalls in Unicoi County, TN – Sill Branch Falls and Pine Ridge Falls.

Both waterfalls are located in the gorgeous Clark Creek area of Unicoi Co. Though the falls are not directly on Clark Creek, the waterway is impressive – it carves a wide, deep valley through its course, beginning above 4,000’ of elevation near the point where Unicoi, Washington, and Greene counties meet.

Both trailheads are on the same road (Clarks Creek Rd.) which winds through the valley and are about ¼-mile apart – we came to the trailhead for Sill Branch Falls first. Sill Branch is taller, has more volume, and is more popular as a result. The hike to the falls is a gentle climb out-and-back of only 1 mile on a well-maintained trail – quite a different temperament from the rugged backcountry that surrounds it.

Diana, on the final approach to Sill Branch Falls

That's my tree-hugger

A family had beaten us to the falls, but once they left Diana and I were free to take pictures and look silly.

 

 

 

 

A few weeks later, I returned to Sill Branch Falls in an attempt to explore the upper reaches of Sill Branch and reach a series of cliffs which tower above the valley. After a few hours of slow-going in the constant, pouring rain I forfeited my exploration for the much better prospect of dry clothes and a warm meal at Diana’s parent’s restaurant, Toby’s.

 

The beginning of the trail to Pine Ridge Falls is more overgrown than the trail to Sill Branch – you can tell that Pine Ridge Falls is less popular. After 50 yards or so, the trail opens up and it’s another relatively flat hike on a nice trail. Once we reached the falls after an easy, uneventful stroll, we had it all to ourselves.

Though are region had been unseasonable warm for a few weeks prior, the two days before our hike were very cold – the night immediately before saw freezing temperatures – so the water was ice-cold. It was a relatively warm day, but going under the waterfall provided quite an uncomfortable shock. After a few seconds in the rushing water, it became painful.

 

 

Diana loves waterfalls and was eager to experience it as much as she could – after seeing all the fun, I decided to join in as well.

 

 

 

We collected our wet gear and hiked back to the 4Runner with water dripping from our shirts and squishing with each step. We rejoined the main trail at a creek crossing (which is much easier when you’re already soaked) and threw our gear into my beleaguered backseat as we made our way back to Erwin. My poor backseat has seen wet clothes, muddy boots, unsheathed knives and axes, and some discarded, forgotten fast-food – yet it still looks new. I’m relieved that all the fun I have doesn’t come at more of a cost.

This outing wasn’t particularly challenging or adventurous – no one tested and nothing discovered, but we had a lot of fun; and, we found out that kissing beneath a raging, icy waterfall isn’t as romantic as one would imagine...

...but a day in the woods is still pretty romantic.

 

Thanks for reading!

 

 

Rocky Fork, TN

Of all the bad experiences I’ve had in the woods or as a result of my adventures, I can say without a revealing grin that I’ve never had a bad hike. Whatever spiritual gain with which I am blessed always outweighs whatever happens to me. That being said, after a rough day on the trail, sometimes you just have to laugh and say, “Yep, that kinda sucked.”

Well, this hike kinda sucked.

A few months ago, my good friend Ben Tolliver and I made a road-trip to Asheville, NC. As I gazed from the passenger seat, enjoying idle bro-talk and the rugged beauty of Unicoi County, TN, I spotted an impressive set of cliffs. My eyesight isn’t great – so neither of us could be sure if the cliffs were real, but I had caught enough of a glimpse to fuel my curiosity.

The cliffs, as I originally saw them

 

After some vague Google searches and a lot of map-study, I managed to narrow the location of the cliffs to the Rocky Fork area in Unicoi County. Recently purchased by the US Forest Service, this large tract of unbroken wilderness had been slated for conservation for some time – the area is home to salamander species found nowhere else – not even the Smokies – and Rocky Fork Creek is renowned for its trout-fishing (which turned out to be my saving-grace, but we’ll get to that later).

I hadn’t been out since my hike to Margarette Falls (a month or so prior), so I was anxious to lace up my boots and get dirty – and indeed I did. I watched as the chance of thunderstorms increased day-by-day, but it didn’t matter – I was determined to head out and explore those cliffs.

On the day of my hike, the chance of thunderstorms had reached 100%, but the morning was dry on my way to the trail. I reached the Forest Service gate at Rocky Fork at around 8:30am, but the heavy cloud-cover made it feel like 6:00. Still no rain. I took advantage of the dry weather and quickly made my way along the old road that follows Rocky Fork Creek, hoping to snap as many pictures as possible before the deluge came.

 

With the recent rains, Rocky Fork was impressively voluminous. It was difficult to hear much else while walking along the road, especially near one of the many small waterfalls and cascades. There were so many opportunities for nice pictures of the creek, I couldn’t help myself. The section of the road I was hiking wasn’t particularly long – it should’ve taken about 30 minutes to walk – but it took over 90 minutes with all the stops I made and diversions to explore the area. By the time I made it to the spur trail which leads up the knob that is home to the cliffs, it started to rain. And rain. And rain…

 

 

As I pulled up my big-boy hiking pants in preparation for the uphill climb ahead of me, the clouds burst open and dumped on me the rain my weather app had promised. I have never been in such a dense rain – it was like standing with your face toward a shower-head. At times, it was hard to breathe without taking in water. The wind was strong and bent trees all around me – I climbed higher and the rain became harder, the wind became stronger. It would stop for a moment, then start again. Like someone was pausing to refill the bucket. The higher I climbed, the steeper the trail became, and the sections which weren’t slippery rocks were muddy rivers. I’d take one step forward and slide two steps back.

After slipping and sliding my way 30 feet back down a particularly steep section, I swallowed my stubbornness. I was defeated. I don’t often abandon hikes, but this was a lost cause. Time to go home.

The hike back to my 4Runner was predictably short – the mud made for a quick descent down the knob and there were no stops to make this time. I was drenched. When the gate was finally within view in the last 200 feet of the road, the rain gradually began to slow. It stopped when I laid my pack in my back seat.

I walked over to the creek and marveled at the trout I could see darting in the crisp water and enjoyed a few final moments in the rain-awakened forest. Though I hadn’t reached my destination, and the rain had washed away the filth that had covered me, it was a wonderful walk in the woods. It’s remarkable how lively, how fresh the woods become during a spring rain. The smells are stronger. The leaves are greener. You’ll never see anything more alive. Those sensations and experiences made the whole mess worthwhile, and I was resigned to leave Rocky Fork with a quiet satisfaction found only by those so blessed as I…

…then my 4Runner wouldn’t start. The battery was dead.

Mere moments before climbing into my driver’s seat, two fly-fisherman had pulled up and parked at the Forest Service gate. What providence! They generously offered to help jump-start my battery – we tried for 30-45 minutes to get that thing to take a charge, but all we managed was to get the lights to turn on. It just wouldn’t turn over.

Having AT&T, I didn’t have cell-phone service, but one of the fishermen had Verizon – the one bar was enough for me to call Diana, who lives about 30 minutes away. My darling had to cancel her hair appointment (sorry about your split-ends, babe!) but was happy to come to my rescue. She had work obligations throughout that day, so once we made it back to Erwin, TN, I called in some backup.

Pictured: Benjamin "Backup" Tolliver

 

Ben and I took the battery to Advanced Auto Parts for a formal test (it was way dead), something that is ordinarily a painless ordeal. Hah! I carried the battery from Ben’s back seat over my shoulder, and sulfuric acid leaked all over me. Once inside the store, Ben – ever the observant Chemistry major – showed concern, “Hey, is that acid on your shoulder?”

Yes, yes it was. Thankfully, I was still wearing my trusty rain-jacket, which had repelled the acid long enough for me to calmly (ok, frantically) remove it. As I laid it on the tool cart, the jacket which had kept me dry since I began serious hiking began to vanish. Ben, the amused Advanced employees, and I watched as the acid ate through the $80 jacket I found for half-price 5 years ago. Selah.

Ben and I made our way back to Rocky Fork and installed a new battery - it did the trick. My day finally ended at 4:00pm. My debit card was $120 lighter, I had lost a dear piece of hiking gear, I inconvenienced Ben and Diana on a busy Saturday, and I felt like a bum – I didn’t reach my destination and didn’t have the blog-post I imagined.

...Still totally worth it.

I would like to extend a sincere thank you to the providential fly-fishermen, who so generously came to my aid (congratulations on your 9 brook trout, fly-fisherman #2!), my tolerant girlfriend Diana (yea, I know, Verizon rocks), and my boy Ben (ok, I get it – Verizon is awesome).

Oh, and thanks for reading!