2019 11-11 Smokies Shot Beech Ridge Escape Route

Jean and I been hiking off trail in the Smokies on and off for almost 20 years. Many of these trips have been with the Smoky Mountains Hiking Club, or with hikers we know through the club. Our trips have ranged from easy, semi-maintained unofficial trails to the brutally difficult bushwhacks that the Smokies is notorious for. One common theme runs through most of them though. Whether I’m off trailing with Jean, or with some of my other friends, few of these trips are breaking new ground.

 

Big tree on Shot Beech.

Whether it’s a hike with Jean where the route needs to be not just doable, but have some attractive features, or a hike with others where the difficulty level is high and reward uncertain, for most of my trips I’ve gotten good information about the route from others who have done it before. Partly this is the nature of the Smokies. Unlike the Cumberland Mountains, in the Smokies you can’t just go wherever you want. Thick patches of rhododendron, deadfall, and other heath can be totally impenetrable.  With so many options to choose from, my strategy tends to be to seek out routes that have been done recently, and come highly recommended. Depending on the route, detailed directions usually aren’t as important as is whether or not the route goes, and is it worth the effort.

One exception to this was our trip down Shot Beech Ridge. Shot Beech caught our attention during a July backpacking trip we took to Newton Bald. Hiking along the Thomas Divide Trail we couldn’t help but notice how open the hardwood forest on the crest of the ridge was. At first, I was thinking, too bad there wasn’t an off trail route along the ridge. But soon I realized that it was possible that other ridges nearby with the same orientation should have the same vegetation along them.

A look at the map showed that Shot Beech and Beetree ridges both looked promising because of their elevation and facing directions compared to Thomas Divide. Hiking back out, we could only tell that there were no obvious heath balds on the ridge crests, but that was far from an indication that the routes could go. Our TI Map showed there was a quiet walkway that started near the head of Shot Beech. On our way home we stopped and walked the walkway through some pleasant forest until it petered out, still in open forest. Later at home I logged onto the Smokies species mapper, and as best I could tell, it indicated that we should see mostly hardwood on the upper parts of the ridges.

I’d asked around, but no one I had contacted had been down Shot Beech. Clyde is one of my best sources for off trail information. Ask about an area and you’re liable to get detail on the right fork of the left fork, the left fork of the right fork, and also for some other good routes nearby. Clyde  had done Beetree Ridge before and found it good going until near the bottom, where he’d encountered thick rhododendron. The bottom of the Deep Creek drainage turned out to be notorious for bad rhodo, but every indication was that the upper ridge should be clear.

Clyde was coming over in October to lead an SMHC trip up Tunnel Ridge. I was the coleader for that trip, so the plan was for Jean and I to drive over Saturday for the club hike to Tunnel Ridge. We would stay the night in Bryson and explore Shot Beech the next day with Clyde. Connie, another strong and experienced SMHC off trail hiker, wasn’t able to make the club hike, but joined us Sunday for Shot Beech.

 

Elk at Ocanaluftee.

Our plan was to use the parking area for the Quiet Walkway, hike down the walkway to its end, and continue south down the ridge crest, ideally all the way to campsite #53 at Poke Patch. Our return would be via Deep Creek Trail. We knew if the ridge became impassable, we could exit off the west side down to the Deep Creek Trail. We had an auspicious start driving in, stopping to photograph some of the park elk herd grazing in the meadows around Ocanaluftee.

 

View west from Thomas Divide.

We set up a short shuttle by leaving a car at the Deep Creek trailhead. Once we left the quiet walkway we found the route to be in open hardwoods, with some huge trees growing right on the crest. Following the ridge top was easy until we reached a split where the left fork leading southeast into Cherry Creek looked dominant. We continued right on the main crest southwest to a small saddle, in the narrowest spot between the ridge and trail, where we had a snack.

 

Clyde starting our descent off Shot Beech.

Descending the Escape Route.

We were now about half-way down the length of the ridge. The rhodo was starting to encroach up the ridgeline from the creek, but at least at our saddle we could see the start of a rhodo free descent route, if we would need it. But beyond the saddle the ridge crest quickly became crowded with rhodo, laurel, and greenbrier. Moving forward quickly became the type of full body rhodo wrestling of many off trailer’s nightmares. After much debate and little progress, we decided to head back to the snack spot and examine the rhodo free opening.

 

In the Dog Hobble.

Miraculously our escape route stayed clear all the way to the bottom. Ninety-nine times out of one hundred in the Smokies a route like this will start open, begin to clog up as soon as you’re out of sight of the start, and become impenetrable once you are far enough along to become committed to finishing it. The top began in fairly open forest, but was so steep that Clyde slid down most of it on his butt. Lower down the opening was covered in dog hobble, where tracking hikers became a matter of looking for a red shirt in the midst of quivering green vegetation. But, at least for humans, dog hobble is still passable terrain. Nearer the bottom we had to cut right to avoid be swallowed in the rhodo.

 

On Deep Creek Trail.

In 45 minutes, we managed to scramble down the quarter mile long escape route and plop happily onto the Deep Creek Trail for a well-deserved lunch. We hiked the Deep Creek Trail back to our shuttle car. On the return we all looked for any openings in the  rhodo along the creek that could lead to another escape route off Shot Beech Ridge similar to the one we had descended, but did not see anything between our lunch spot and the next fork in Deep Creek. We had a few easy creek crossings around the head of the creek and finished in a beautiful forest above the head of the creek

 

Out of the Rhodo!

Of course, we were disappointed that we hadn’t been able to complete the ridge. A through trip may have been possible, but it certainly wouldn’t have been enjoyable. We were glad to have experienced the miracle of having our escape route stay open long enough to lead us down to the trail. Sometimes you get lucky after enough time in the mountains.

Our loose group of off trailers was a well-travelled machine that fall and winter. From October until the spring coronavirus shutdown in various configurations we did a dozen off trail hikes ranging from hikes out of Steiner Bell on the OST, to Sugarlands, Elkmont, Tremont, and Cosby along with Leadmine Ridge on Mt Cammerer and the 1000’ scar.

The Thousand Foot Scar

In late 2012 an exceptionally heavy cloud burst settled in over Mt. LeConte in the Great Smoky Mountains. The Smokies, and Leconte in particular, seem to attract these short-lived but violent storms. Their impact on LeConte is evident by the large number of partially healed landslide scars found on the north and west sides of the mountain. This is the “Anakeesta Country” of the most ardent LeConte explorers, those who seek out climbing routes on the sheer, crumbling, and exposed ridges of the mountain. Among that group, the most prized routes are the old landslide scars.

One of those explorers is my friend Greg, who has helped lead the way for new generation of able and skilled explorers of the mountain. Greg was aware of the storm, and its potential for creating a landslide. Not long afterward, he climbed Chimney Tops on the opposite side of the highway from LeConte to have a look around. His intuition and experience were rewarded by discovering the new landslide that had been formed by the storm. Soon after he climbed the new landslide, and soon news of a wonderful new route circulated among the off tail hikers. He named the route the Thousand Foot Scar for its height from top to bottom.

I was able to climb the scar in 2013 (see below) when it was still pristine, a bit of a geologist’s dream in a range where seemingly every other rock is covered by dirt, debris, and the Smokies often impenetrable growth. Since then it has remained one of my favorite routes (please don’t tell Greg), even as the scar is slowly being reclaimed by dense vegetation. I’ve now been lucky to climb the scar four times with an array of friends who have the requisite combination of a lack of common sense and a liberal definition of “fun”. I’m changing up my usual format in this post and presenting a chronology of these trips in a single write up, mostly as an excuse to post more pictures.

2019 10-12

Last fall I had a chance to climb the scar with two running buddies, Ron and Aaron, who have been helping me with my Barkley training for the last couple of years. We’d done plenty of rough off trail routes together, but not many of those were in the Smokies. Though both guys were a bit dinged up from heavy running schedules, I knew they’d really love the route, and it would be a great kickoff to another season of training in the mountains. In October we finally got the combination of low water and decent weather forecast that we needed.

When I first asked Greg about the route, he basically said just go up the branch to the base of the scar, and climb it, you can’t miss it. Usually in this context “you can’t” means “you will”, but the scar is one of those routes where you really cannot miss it. The only issue is heading up the correct branch, as there are several close together near the start. I don’t always use GPS to follow Smokies routes, but this is one where I try to have a waypoint for the mouth of the branch, and another a short distance above, just in case.

 

Aaron and Ron

We’d had almost no rain for three months, so the water level in the branch was very low. With dry rock and no need to divert around deep pools into the streamside rhodo we made good time walking up the creek reaching the base of the scar in about 45 minutes. The clue that the scar is coming is a strong red iron stain in the rocks and creek water. Much of the rock in the upper part of the scar is in the Anakeesta Formation which contains pyrite, an iron sulfide mineral. The powerful slide exposed enough fresh bedrock in the Anakeesta that the impact was obvious six years later.

The scar was formed in an unnamed side branch of our main branch. The toe of the scar is a ~40’ tall wall of debris left where the unnamed side branch joins the main stem. When I was first there in 2013 the debris pile was fresh, and it reminded me of the world’s largest beaver dam. Now it is covered with a tangle of new growth and instead of climbing up the face of the pile, we mostly went around it on the right. The top of the debris pile is now covered with some thick blackberry. I had a moment of regret that I might have brought us into a long, tedious, and briar infested epic, but shortly past the debris pile the blackberry cleared up and the climbing was more open.

 

Looking back at Chimney Tops.

Initially, the route involves climbing up a long series of short steep pitches of Thunderhead Sandstone, sort of like giant’s steps. Immediately after the slide formed, the bed was scoured right down to the bedrock, and there was no soil or plant cover at all. The challenge here is negotiating the face of each of the sandstone steps. Most are easy scrambles, but a couple are long and steep enough be third or fourth class climbing. 

Ron Climbing

At the top of one pitch is one of the best views in the Smokies as you look straight down the drainage to the Chimneys. Aaron and I pushed right into the woods to avoid the most imposing pitch, a long sort of open book with its toughest moves at the top, but Ron powered his way directly up.

Satellite photo of the lower scar with the debris pile and giants steps

Not far beyond that pitch the scar reaches the outcrops of the overlying Anakeesta Formation and trades the giant steps of the Thunderhead for the tiny handholds of Anakeesta. The Anakeesta is fine grained, thin bedded rock. Any holds tend to be the thickness of the beds, maybe a quarter to half inch at best, and often a bit slick from all the mica in the rock. But the orientation of the rock means that beds angle down away from the climber making little shelves, rather than angle uselessly toward the climber.

 

Climbing in the Anakeesta.

The climbing in the Anakeesta is still steep and the vegetation had encroached almost all the way across the width of the scar. We next came to the last major obstacle, a long curved, bedrock chute that looks like something out the canyon country of the US Southwest. It doesn’t look difficult until you’re far enough up to realize how tiny the holds are, and how wet the rock is. We all gave it a try, and made it up without slipping. The chute is dicey enough that I wouldn’t want to try downclimbing it, once you’re past it you are committed to going to the top. Beyond the chute the climbing is still steep, but the slate is broken into larger chunks, making for some easier climbing.

The headwall of the scar is only 100 feet or so below the popular hiking trail. The headwall seems to be getting looser, this was the first time that I remembered it being difficult. By 2:15 into the climb we were on the trail. Both Ron and Aaron really liked the route, Aaron said if there was an easier way to downclimb, he would go back down and do it again. But with both guys being a bit banged up, we headed back down the trail to our car.

 

View from the top of the scar.

2017 10-7

My partners on this trip included Buddy, my old friend from our Appalachian Trail thru hike, his new son in law Will, and my friend Ed who had done the scar with me before, and is a veteran of countless other off trail hikes in the Smokies. We had been planning the trip since June, and finally got a good weather forecast after two weeks without rain.

 

Ed, Buddy, and Will

Water in the branch was again very low, and we practically could have walked up it with dry feet, except for a few stumbles. I took one slip early on and bashed my right shin hard enough to make me pay better attention to my footing the rest of the trip. We saw the iron staining in the creek again before we reached the base of the debris flow. After four years away the scar had grown up considerably from its clean as a whistle washing out in 2013. There was considerable blackberry in the scar, and often only a single narrow path through the briers.

Despite our weather forecast, LeConte showed that it has weather all its own and we were drizzled on most of the day. With wet rocks, we bypassed both of the tougher scramble sections in the Thunderhead, Both the bypasses were brushy, and both were on the right side. I was worried about the steep, exposed chute of Anakeesta with the wet rock, but Ed led it confidently and the rest of us followed.

 

Will in the Anakeesta Chute

Above the chute the drizzle abated somewhat. We enjoyed the rest of the climb, but found that the climb up the headwall of the scar to the trail was steeper than I had remembered. We took the hiking trail to the Lodge, then the summit, and found both crowded, especially by the standards of our climb. We met Clyde Austin, my off trail mentor, descending from a night at the Lodge and it was good to be able to introduce him to Buddy and Will. We ate lunch at the summit cairn before heading down via the trail.

Ed and Will climbing above the chute.

2013 8-24

Almost immediately after my first trip to the scar, I began spreading the word to my hiking and running friends. We managed to put together a return trip for August. Ed was along again along with Iron Mike (there are a lot of Mikes in the off trail world) another SMHC veteran off trail hiker. From my running and Barkley training groups were Kirby, Mark M., Kathy, Leah, and Misty. At the parking area, we got another surprise, a second party preparing to go up the scar. I knew Dave from the Carolina Mountain Club and his old Griztrax website.  He had at least one other hiker with him on a trip where they planned to take some video.

 

At the start

We plowed directly into the branch, avoiding the brief rhodo crawl we’d encountered at the start of our first visit. The walk up the branch is a zigzag along the bed, from one dry rock pile to another. The stream bed is remarkable solid here with far fewer treacherous loose rocks than the other streams of LeConte. Though the water levels were similar to June, we noticed a lot more iron staining in the creek. Getting through with dry feet was still possible. Despite the large group we only took about 35 minutes to get to the base of the debris pile. There seemed to be more debris and vegetation above the dam then we had encountered the first time.

 

Iron stain in the creek

The debris pile from below.

Mud and debris behind the debris dam.

Above the debris pile, the rocks were very dry and most of our group was able to climb the steepest of the headwalls in the Thunderhead. The crew of excited runners was moving faster than I’d expected. It was tough to both keep pace and take the time to let all the scenery sink in.  Above the Thunderhead/Anakeesta contact was a new smaller debris dam, probably formed by a recent storm that washed down some of the material from the scar forming storm. I missed some good pictures because my camera battery died, but managed later to pick up a fresh set from Mike. We didn’t have any issues with the steep, curved chute in the Anakeesta. I called it 4^th class, OK to scramble up, not so good down.

Ed climbing the Anakeesta Chute

 

Approaching the open book

The whole group loved the club, the steepness and exposure were no problem. We took a long break after reaching the trail, and then began a brief trail hike. Before the trip we’d decided to try an alternate route vs. our first visit for the upper section. Instead of bushwhacking northeast to Myrtle Point, we would go almost due north directly to LeConte High Top on the leftmost or “switchback” fork, According to information we’d gotten from Greg when we met him on our descent from our first trip to the scar the leftmost fork should be a quicker, but steeper option.

 

Kirby

That was of course assuming you could get onto the route. Besides the distraction of other hikers wondering what you’re doing, the entry to the switchback fork is thickly vegetated, requiring some serious effort just to get down into the fork. But once in it we found the fork steep and damp, but mostly with solid rock. About 150’ in, there is another fork. It wasn’t clear which was the main one, but we went right, which ended up being correct. We stayed in the creek bed to a grassy area and then moved to the left. We passed one cliff band. Above the grassy area we re-entered the forest and the grade became slightly less steep. One person had some rock fall hit their shins, but there was no damage done.

The fir forest on top was open and we came out on the Boulevard Trail exactly at the LeConte summit cairn. My GPS showed the switchback prong at 0.35 mile, while my mapping software had it at 0.25 mile and 800 feet of climb. We took some time for photos and then split up for the descent. Mike and Ed hiked back. Kirby, Kathy, Leah, and Mark ran back to Sugarlands via Trillium Gap Trail, and Misty and I jogged back via Alum Cave Trail after a stop at the lodge. We spotted Dave and Ronnie again on the trail, they’d taken their time to get the video they wanted. We were back at the trailhead by 2:30, and home by 4PM.

 

LeConte Summit

2013 6-15

After hearing stories of a wonderful new route up Mt LeConte, Mark, Ed, and I finally got together for a chance to explore it on our own. Our friend Greg from the SMHC had discovered  it last fall after realizing that one of the recent storms to hit the mountain had been powerful enough to cause a landslide that might result in a new climbing route. Greg was able to spot a new landslide and after climbing it named it for the elevation difference from the top to bottom (though my maps would show a full 1,200’ of climb).

June 15 was the first trip up the scar for all of us. We had not been up the main branch since 2008 and were reluctant to try and simply walk up the creek. So, we battled some unnecessary rhodo near the mouth before quickly realizing that even with the water at a moderate level, the creek bed was good walking. We did end up bypassing a few sections on the right side.

It took about 40 minutes to walk to the first junction, about a half mile above the highway. Our first hint that we were getting close was iron staining on the rocks and in the water from the oxidation of pyrite in the rocks broken apart and exposed by the landslide. We found the toe of the debris pile within 100’ of the confluence and visible from it. The face of the debris pile was a 50’ wall logs and branches looking like the world’s largest beaver dam.

 

Looking down the face of the debris pile

We climbed straight up the face of the pile and found that it had acted as a dam for sediment washed down the scar by later storms. Beyond the dam was an ominous looking flat of mud and silt extending 100-200’ upstream. It looked like a perfect trap for quicksand, but we found we could safely walk on some of it, and that the mudflat itself was starting to be cut by its creek.

Beyond the dam the scar was swept perfectly clean down to the bedrock. There was hardly any dirt, rocks, or vegetation to be seen. Its rare in the Smokies to see any bedrock exposed and in place, but here we were to be treated to a 1000’ section of rock perfectly exposed. The rock lower in the scar is Thunderhead Sandstone, a white coarse grained sandstone with some of the feldspars weathered out. It was broken into a series of ledges sculpted out of relatively smooth layers of Thunderhead a few tens of feet thick. Most of the ledgey climbing could be easily bypassed. Two spots were a bit tricky, I climbed the first right up the center and Mark climbed the wetter second one on the left, which was probably the spot I later remembered as the “open book.”

 

Mark climbing the open book.

The slide had plunged down the first side branch of the man branch. Though these upper drainages are typically fairly linear, the scar seemed to twist and turn so that you rarely could see your route ahead. I remember that the contact between the Thunderhead and the Annakeesta above it was perfectly exposed  The Annakeesta luckily dipped into the slope leaving us a series of plentiful, but tiny holds. The climbing here was steadier, but probably over steeper, than in the Thunderhead.

Eventually we could hear hikers on the trail above. It turned out the top of the scar was only 30-40” below the trail. We reached the trail in 1.1 miles after 1:50 of climbing. Our group was well adapted to the slow pace and agonizing effort of the typical off trail routes on LeConte. To come up so fast up a gloriously open route seemed almost a waste, and I vowed to return to the route and do a better job of enjoying it.

 

Climbing toward Myrtle Point

The morning had gone so well that we decided to push our luck and try to reach Myrtle Point from the next creek over, a trip both Mark and Ed had done before. So, we took the trail up to the next switchback and then headed again off trail. We crossed over what we now call the switchback prong, and crossed over the “main” left fork of the creek to the base of a prominent brown bluff. The traverse was not bad, but the climb up the left side of the bluff to a grassy area was tough. We were able to gain a lot of elevation in the grass, but not enough. The last few hundred feet were through almost impenetrable heath. We had some nasty crawling, part of it while trying to push our packs ahead of it. Ed and I emerged right at the overlook, much to the amusement of the hikers already there.

 

Myrtle Point with Ed and Mark

We ate lunch on Myrtle Point and then returned to our cars by trail. Like an idiot, I had forgotten our camera, so my only pictures on this trip are from Ed. The surprise of the day was meeting Greg on the descent. He’d come up Styx Branch farther east on a route that avoided the heath

2019 7-26 Black Mountains Crest Run NC

 My friend Mark is one of those born mountain runners. He is a strong, superb climber and exceptionally experienced in the mountains. His favorite routes are usually deep in the Smokies or in the lesser travelled mountains near Greenville. When he calls, I should know better to answer the phone, especially early in the season when I’m not in shape, but sometimes I just forget myself.

One route Mark had on his to do list was NC’s Black Mountain Crest Trail from Bowlen’s Creek to the top of Mount Mitchell, the highest point on the east coast, and back. He thought the full trip would be ~25 miles with some serious climbing and a lot of really rough trail. I’d hiked the Black Mountain Crest from Mitchell south to Celo Knob as part of a peak bagging trip to the South Beyond 6,000, but not all the way down to Bowlens Creek. Mark also had done some hiking in the range, we both had run the Black Mountain Marathon and Mount Mitchell Challenge several times. The run seemed like a great way to get up out of the heat, see some new trail, and climb some high peaks. When Mark offered to drive, how could I say no?

At least I was smart enough to pack light. I had my vest with water, some food, maps, and GPS. I did not bring a camera, so photos of the trip are from Mark. We left my place at super early and he drove seemingly forever (120 miles via Mars Hill per Google, and every bit of 2.5 hours) while I nodded off in the car. The Bowlens Creek TH was unique. We parked in a weedy barely marked unattended lot with a homemade fee tube, but it seemed safer than just leaving the truck by the side of the road.

Bowlens Creek Trailhead

Most of the main climbing was on the first 4.3 miles of the Bowlens Creek Trail. We expected this to be a tougher section of the climb so were pleased that it was well graded and seemed to be an old road. Mark probably would have run most of the climb, but my conditioning was nowhere close to being good enough for that. Still we were up on the crest near Celo Knob in 90 minutes. From the southern sixers trip, I remembered that much of trail on this end was very overgrown and was happy to see that now it was only covered by deep grass. But with all the grass obscuring the trail tread we still weren’t doing any running.

 

Black Mtn. Crest near Celo Knob

But soon after Woody Ridge the gentle grassy sections were behind us and we were on the classic Black Mountain Crest Trail. This means super steep, deeply eroded trail that winds up and over every exposed rock and root on the mountain. We struggled to maintain 2 mph. I remembered some of this rough trail from backpacking trips with Jean, but was surprised at how relentless the difficult sections were. Again, Mark could have run some of these sections, but the footing was too tricky for me to be comfortable running. We started to have one of “those” discussions, how far could we afford to go before we’d need to turn around. I should have sent Mark ahead to go to the summit of Mitchell and back, after all that was the goal of the trip. Instead we spent some time stopping at the tops of Winterstar and Balsam Cone, two of the other sixers along the way. Mark didn’t have much interest in bagging the sixers, but I’m always a sucker for picking up a few easy peaks. With most of the day spent high on the crest, the typical summer heat and humidity of the Southern Appalachians wasn’t the issue it normally is.

 

Taking a break on the crest

Finally, we reached our turnaround time of 4:30 near the top of Big Tom, still nearly 2 miles from Mitchell. After a 15 minute break, it was up and over carefully through all the rough stuff again. I only had done one decent training run recently and it wasn’t enough to prepare me for all this effort.  But finally we were back to the top of the Bowlens Creek climb. Mark agreed to go ahead and wait for me at the truck and after 7-8 hours of “running” I was able to really run the last few miles into the parking area. I hadn’t been running much downhill lately and paid a severe price for the downhill in very sore legs for the next couple of days.

It was disappointing not to have gotten all the way to Mitchell. The fault was primarily mine, for not being in good enough shape, and for not remembering how difficult the trail was, and therefore how little of it I’d be able to run. Maybe with an earlier start and softer deadline to return home we’ll be back.

Final Stats:
20.8 miles, 5400’ of climb, time 8:50

2019 6-14, Maah Daah Hey Trail Complete!

This was the last ride of my 2019 visit to the North Dakota Badlands to update my trail guide to the area. The major change between the two guidebook editions would be the addition of 46 miles of new trail from the former southern end of the Maah Daah Hey Trail at Sully Creek State Park to the new terminus at the Little Missouri National Grassland Burning Coal Vein Campground. This ride would both complete the necessary field work for the second edition of the book, and allow me to finish the entire Maah Daah Hey rail, again.

Toms Wash Trailhead

With Jean, I had hiked the original 97-mile long Maah Daah Hey Trail primarily in two backpacking trips in 2001 and 2004, not long after the trail was complete. Our 2001 four-day trip from the Little Missouri River Crossing to north end at the CCC Campground was marked by a bewildering shuttle trip through a maze of gravel roads until we magically stumbled upon the trail, and by near desperate searches for water where several times we ended up getting water from stock tanks. By 2004, on our three day trip from the Little Mo south to Wanagan Campground, the construction of Elkhorn and Wanagan campgrounds added new water sources, and we were also able cache water during the shuttle trip. The forest service and Maah Daah Hey Trail Association have since addressed water availability by installing water pumps at all the campgrounds along the trail, and by installing water boxes to allow users to easily cache their own water.

Even in the early 2000s the plans for a Maah Daah Hey extension to the south were in place, so we knew that our “completion” of the MDH was only temporary. The southern extension was first dubbed the MDH II or the Deuce, but the forest service now prefers to call it the southern section of the Maah Daah Hey Trail.

Jean and I had mountain biked some of the new section in 2011, and had hiked other parts earlier in our 2019 trip. The previous day I had ridden the trail south to Toms Wash, now it was time to complete the final section. Without Jean to help shuttle, I decided to try combining the long C-shaped section of trail with the gravel forest service road that connected the two trailheads to form a combined single track and gravel loop.

One advantage of the southern MDH is easy access. The trailheads are mostly along Forest Highway 3, a well maintained gravel road that starts just south of Medora. I had a quick, easy drive from Trapper’s Kettle in Bellfield down to empty Tom Wash Trailhead, despite a few sprinkles that weren’t enough to keep the dust down. My plan was to leave the car at Toms Wash, ride the road to the start of the trail at Burning Coal Vein CG, and then ride the MDH back to Toms Wash.

The gravel riding was nice and straight forward. I passed only two maintained side roads, one leading east to the Third Creek TH, before turning off to the Burning Coal Vein CG. Gravel grinding on mountain bikes over the maintained roads in the Badlands has been becoming more popular, and while speeding down FH3 I could feel the allure of fast, smooth cruising through this scenic terrain. I reached the start of the MDH after an easy 7.3 miles of riding, much better than having to set up a shuttle.

Before starting up the MDH, I had one more guidebook related chore, finding the start of the Burning Coal Vein Trail. Unfortunately, all I found was an unmarked parking area and a short trail leading to the backside of a small butte, the end obscured by a network of cattle paths. I rode back through the campground and saw one party of bike riders waiting for their shuttle. They had encountered some cattle pockmarked trail riding north of Medora, but otherwise were having a great time. While I was there, Jen from Dakota Cyclery pulled in to pick up their gear. She even remembered me from the shuttles she ran for Jean and I previously; I guess they don’t get too many backpackers.

Back at the start of the Maah Daah Hey, I was surprised by the lack of fanfare for the start of the trail. There are several nice signs and displays at the north end of the trail, and I was expecting something similar for the start. Oh well, start modest and deliver big time.

The Start of the Maah Daah Hey Trail

After a quick quarter of a mile I was out of the campground and into the backcountry. The trail was extremely well constructed and very scenic. When the original Maah Daah Hey was built, the target users were hikers and horse riders, so it was a bit of a surprise when so many mountain bikers began using the trail. The construction of the new southern section allowed the trail builders to adapt their trail construction to mountain biking. The new trail has great flow, the dips and turns that can make riding so much fun. Many thanks, again to Curt, Russ, and all the crew on the grasslands.

One down 143 to go!

This day I would have the trail all to myself. This area of badlands isn’t as rugged as the landscape around Theodore Roosevelt National Park, but the trail builders took care to visit the buttes, ravines, and narrow ridgelines where the best scenery lies. There were a few areas with cow tracks, but nothing too long or too degraded. Though the southern section is open to horse riding, I saw little damage from horses, and almost no evidence of their use. Mostly the trail was wide, obvious to follow, and looked like it had been newly surfaced with fine gravel. I was lucky again with the weather, after one short spell of drizzle the skies cleared for the day. With gentle terrain and no long climbs the riding was smooth and easy.

Third Creek Trailhead

After ticking off my progress on the handy mileposts I reached the Third Creek Trailhead seven miles in. The site featured a comfy bench and lone cottonwood for shade, but not much else. Approaching Hanleys Wash around nine miles, the trail passes a grove of shady trees and a small reed-filled pond. The bridge over Hanleys Wash was one of the last major construction projects along the trail. I had to push the bike a short way coming out of the draw, so much for any improvement in fitness after two weeks of nonstop hiking and biking! Climbing to Hanley Plateau I saw the first petrified wood of the day, some buried stumps along a switchback.

The trail along the plateau was the blazing fast grasslands riding with seemingly endless vistas. 

Trail across the grasslands.

Not too far beyond was a section of classic badlands riding, perfect single track carved into the soft bedrock and gumbo of the badlands. There was one more shady section in the junipers, then the long gradual descent to Toms Wash.

Trail across the badlands

My loop ended up as about 16 miles of single track on the MDH and about 9 miles on gravel, including my quest to find the Burning Coal Vein Trail. Most importantly, I had finished the Maah Daah Hey Trail, again. This time instead of primarily backpacking the trail, most of the new, southern section was covered by mountain bike.

Right now it looks like any plans to extend the trail are unfortunately far off. There are plans to upgrade sections of the trail and perhaps to add other connectors, but it does not appear that connections south to White Butte or north to Watford City are close at hand. Use of the Maah Daah Hey Trail continues to grow and the MDHTA and other groups are working closely with the forest service on maintaining the trail.

To help support the Maah Daah Hey join the Maah Daah Hay Trail Association at: mdhta.com. 

To help support the trail and learn about mountain biking and running race opportunities on the trail visit: https://www.experienceland.org

For detailed information on the Maah Daah Hey look for my revised guidebook due in 2021 from Bower House Books at; bowerhousebooks.com/shop/trails-of-the-north-dakota-badlands-prairies

2019 6-7 ND Mountain Biking, Maah Daah Hey Cottonwood-Bennett Loop

This hike was part of our 2019 North Dakota trip designed to support the new edition of my North Dakota hiking guidebook. Bower House, my new publisher, had agreed to publish a new edition to allow us to include the new section of the Maah Daah Hey (MDH) Trail south of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park (TRNP) South Unit, and to provide more detail on some of the other trails in the Maah Daah Hey system. Cottonwood and Bennett were two of the trails we needed more information on. Jean and I had planned to hike them during our last visit, but slumping caused by an extremely wet spring had closed the trails during our visit. Since the hike details will appear in the new book, this description will focus on the sights and experiences of our scouting hike.

The Cottonwood and Bennett trails combine with a section of the Maah Daah Hey Trail to form a 15 mile loop hike based out of the Little Missouri National Grassland (LMNG) Bennett Campground. Only five miles off the highway, the trailhead and campground are easy to reach. Many mountain bikers going the length of the Maah Daah Hey use Bennett CG as a starting point since bikes are not allowed in the designated wilderness in the north unit of TRNP, and there is no established bypass route around the north unit. It is also the closest trailhead to the famed China Wall, just north of the loop.

Jean had not been doing much mountain biking lately, and was due for a rest break in our heavy hiking schedule, so this was a solo ride for me. Knowing Jean would be waiting all day on her own in camp, I was a little nervous about how long I would be away on the ride. This would be the first bike trip of the visit and though the trail sections we had hiked so far were dry, conditions along the MDH can change quickly. Even something minor like a flat tire could delay me significantly.

View Back to the Trailhead at Bennett Camp

The ride didn’t start out very well. Jean was able to shoot some pictures of me leaving the campground, but I hadn’t gone more than a tenth of mile when I realized that I’d forgotten some gear. I guess I was lucky enough to realize that early on, and quickly rode back to the car and packed it up. Just beyond the crossing of the Bennett Creek the loop starts; I elected to go left on the Cottonwood Trail and ride the loop clockwise.

Cottonwood Trail

Though it is only a 300 foot climb from Bennett Creek to the top of the grasslands above it, the climb is steep with several switchbacks and required a bit of bike pushing on my part. I had thought I’d done enough bike riding at home before the trip to be in shape for the MDH, but my slow progress on the climb caused me to worry that I might be  late returning to  the trailhead.

Luckily, once the trail reaches the first milepost at the top of a small butte the riding is much easier. The trail designers and builders in the LMNG (many thanks again Curt and Russ!) have a great eye for the fine lines and scenery that mountain bikers crave, and the ability to build trails to highlight these features. The next few miles of singletrack flow over the high prairie with views of the badlands around Cottonwood Creek off in the distance, and a few pronghorn were nearby to keep me company. In my concern about getting back to the trailhead on time I probably rode this section to fast, the scenery here demands a slower pace.

Cottonwood Trail

The trail next drops down to cross its namesake creek before another swichbacked climb in its last mile. After seven miles the Cottonwood Trail ends at a junction with the Maah Daah Hey. I turned north on the MDH to ride a section Jean and I had first explored the 2001 backpacking trip where we had completed the original MDH. Turning north the trail first sits on benches well above Cottonwood Creek, then snuggles up close to it as the valley narrows. These tight areas, especially those where side creeks enter, are especially prone to the sudden erosion caused by heavy rains and sudden flooding. This is after all, how the badlands form.

The next five miles along the MDH continued the great riding of the Cottonwood. The trail was more level, generally smooth and well maintained. With the creek nearby there was always good scenery and the trail had the nice twisty flow that makes riding so much fun. At the junction with the Bennett Trail, I had the option of continuing north to the China Wall, one of the MDH’s signature features. But not wanting to leave Jean alone in camp longer than necessary, I turned off onto the Bennett Trail for the last three miles back to camp.

The Maah Daah Hey Trail Above Cottonwood Creek

Bennett was also a well marked and well maintained trail. I got briefly off course where the trail passed just above the bank of Bennett Creek, but quickly regained the singletrack. There was one small sinkhole on the trail that was flagged for biker safety. Too soon I was back at the close of the loop. I rode the short spur that enters the campground directly while bypassing the trailhead then rode the road back to the car while Jean took some pictures. She’d had quiet time reading and communing with the small group of cattle that were only other occupants of the site. Once again, I had seen no one else on the trail.

Riding back into Bennett Camp

For a Better Trail Map go to MDHTA.com

2019 6-6 Theodore Roosevelt National Park, Petrified Forest Loop Hike

This hike was part of our 2019 North Dakota trip designed to support the new edition of my North Dakota hiking guide. Bower House books had acquired the rights to the books of my previous publisher, Big Earth Publishing, and after some discussion with them we decided to put out a new edition of the book with a target release date of 2020. Since this would be my first visit back to the North Dakota Badlands since shortly after the publication of the first book in 2011, I’d need to rehike nearly all the trails covered by the book. Since the hike details will appear in the new book, this description will focus on the sights and experiences of our scouting hike on perhaps our favorite route in the North Dakota Badlands.

The Petrified Forest Loop circles the area west of the Little Missouri River within the South Unit of Theodore Roosevelt National Park. The loop road and rest of the park infrastructure are east of the river so Petrified Forest Loop is isolated from most of the rest of the park trails. The trailhead is reached via a series of gravel forest service roads rather than the NPS loop road. Jean and I had launched a backpacking trip from here in 1999 and had been nervous enough then about the road conditions that we’d parked short of the trailhead to ensure we could drive out if the road got wet. Now however the roads were signed, well maintained, and the trailhead even sported one of the park’s excellent trailhead map displays.

Pronghorn Antelope

The hike starts with a half mile feeder trail. 2019 was a wet year and we were reaping the benefit of the of a prodigious wildflower display.  We decided to take the north side of the loop first and go clockwise around the loop. Pretty quickly we came across a lone pronghorn patrolling the grassland. It stayed with us as we dropped down into the Petrified Forest.

Fossilized Tree Stumps in the Petrified Forest

After so many years away we were astounded by the size and numbers of the petrified trees. The fossil wood found in Theodore Roosevelt National Park and the surrounding Dakota Prairie Grasslands is most often found at the base of the Sentinel Butte Formation. Scientists believe that the trees were conifers, similar to modern sequoias. Some specimens are huge, with diameters approaching eight feet. Since the root systems of the trees are typically poorly preserved, the trees probably grew in a swampy environment, similar to cypress groves of today.

Most of the trees are stumps that we covered by ash deposits from the eruption of volcanoes in the Yellowstone region 55 million years ago. The trees are well enough preserved that features such as tree rings ae still obvious. The forest lies in a gentle valley and along the walls you can see the various rock layers exposed. The gray layers are bentonite which has formed from the volcanic ash and marks the layers which contain the fossils.

After an orgy of fossil gaping and picture taking we began the gentle climb out of the forest. Hiking into the forest  were three of TRNP’s famous herd of wild horses. Though beautiful to see, we were likely more spooked by the horses than they were by us. Following our hike, I stumbled onto the website for a group call North Dakota Badlands Horse. I learned there that all the park horses have names and a large online fan club. The horses mostly live in bands led by a dominant stallion. The group that we had seen were bachelors, young males that not been able to attract females to start their own bands.

Badlands Horses

Beyond the forest the trail followed some open prairie before crossing a small draw to join the Maah Daah Hey Trail. The MDH Trail starts 50 miles south of the park in the Little Missouri National Grassland and ends 144 miles later in the north unit of TRNP. It is the premier trail in the region, and has been the catalyst of a boom in hiking and mountain biking in the region. Since this was a work trip for my hiking guide, I walked the half mile to the north to describe the junction there with the Buffalo Gap Trail, which had been built as a bypass route for mountain bikers around the designated Wilderness Area in the national park.

The trail continuing around the loop is one of  my favorites. It follows the eastern edge of Big Plateau with occasional views of the Little Missouri River on the left and constant views of the remote prairie on the right. While the hiking is flat and easy the wildlife watching, and wildflower displays are outstanding as well. Soon off in the distance loomed a herd of 40 bison. They were at the perfect range, far enough off so that we didn’t disturb them, but close enough so that they were easy to watch through our binoculars. As bison often do, this group was hanging out in a small prairie dog town.

Bison Grazing Beside a Prairie Dog Town

The north and south Petrified Forest Trails meet in a complicated spot that Jean and I came to know as the V-junction for its very narrow split between the two forks of what is essentially a Y-shaped junction. My very first hike into TRNP in 1988 came up the stem of this Y onto Big Plateau, which was a wonder of wildlife watching bison, prairie dogs, pronghorn and coyotes that still remains with me.

By this time the sun and heat were catching up to us and we ducked into a small grove of trees to trade some bugs for some shade while we ate some lunch. Approaching the Petrified Forest from the southern trail we came across another pronghorn, potentially our same friend from this morning. Then we were down in the forest among another bountiful display of fossilized trees. Since both the forests on the north and south trails are about 1.5 miles from the parking area, the NPS doesn’t recommend one side over the other. However, it seemed to us that though some of the largest specimens are on the south side, there were more fossils spread over a larger area on the north side.

Jean Entering the Petrified Forest

Petrified Forest

Exiting the forest, we met up again with our wild horse friends from this morning. Not long after we also saw our last bison of the day, a lone bull grazing near the start of the feeder trail. The mix of abundant fossils, diverse wildlife, spring flowers and skyline to skyline views of the badlands and Little Missouri River make this perhaps the most outstanding hike in the region.

Lone Bison Grazing

Our Route Through the Petrified Forest