Thursday, October 10, 2019

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 4th 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