Buckeye Falls, 12-16-21

Mark is writing the Sampson Mountain Wilderness section of the revised Cherokee National Forest Hiking Guide that the Knoxville group of the Sierra Club is working on and asked me to join him on his scout of Buckeye Falls. Buckeye Falls is known as potentially the highest waterfall in the eastern US with height estimates ranging from 475 to 600+ feet. It is reported to more of a cascade than a waterfall, making those height comparisons even more difficult. 

We had a two hour drive from Knoxville, through Greenville (Mark’s hometown), then out TN 107 to Clark Creek Road. After a couple of miles of pavement, we hit maintained gravel at the CNF boundary and had an easy drive to the end of the road, at an unsigned turnaround. We left about 8:45 with the temperature about freezing. Clarks Creek hasn’t been a maintained trail since at least the early 90s, so this would technically be off trail hiking. I took a GPS track and we both took pictures.

We knew we had a lot of stream crossings ahead of us, so we just sloshed across the first one, which was within sight of the parking area. Strangely the first two miles of the trail were getting heavy horse use on what still was an old roadbed. We couldn’t imagine that horse riders would leave their horses partway along the route, or that they would even bother to walk the rest of the way to the falls. Mark had hiked this route several years back, and he did not remember any evidence of horse traffic then.

An old logging railroad car.

There were several stream crossings early in the hike and the cold water was starting to numb my feet. Besides the crossings, our first landmark was some old berms in the road that I suspect marked an even older end of the drivable section of the road. Besides the loose rocks kicked up by the horses the walking was level and easy. We watched for the landmarks noted in the older edition of our guide, but never saw the engine block that was mentioned, or any sign indicating that we were now in a wilderness area. However, we did see a long rail car with a troughlike top that I imagine was used to haul a single log. Just beyond was the triangular swimming hole the guide mentioned. We also passed a perfect anticline-syncline-anticline set in the rocks on the side of the creek, a sight we knew James would appreciate.

A fold in the rocks along Clarks Creek.

Next up was a steep side hill where a fallen tree had taken out part of the slope, The horses couldn’t get around  the tree on the steep slope, so the footing beyond was much better. There was a long section of trail in a steep gorge above the creek on our left. The next crossing near the “C” in the second “Creek,” on the topo involved a little scrambling to get down and back out of the creek. But then we had another long section without other crossings. The walls of the canyon were so high and steep it would have been a huge effort to climb out. I could already tell the terrain was confusing my GPS and giving me significantly less mileage that we were really earning. Curiously, we heard dogs barking above us, hunting for bear near Rocky Fork we suspected.

The final scramble towards Buckeye Falls.

Finally, the stream started to turn south, and we began to see some informal markers as we moved toward its head.  Mark mentioned that he had turned into the first left fork by mistake on his solo visit, but had quickly turned back as his route petered out. At the second fork we needed to stay left as the main (barely) fork went right, along with the continuation of the old road. Since the “old road” was probably an even older logging railroad, it might be interesting to explore up the main fork for artifacts from that era.

There were a series of red painted dots on trees at the junction to mark our way up the left branch. We switched from walking to scrambling in and alongside the meager flow of water, weaving our way through the fallen trees strewn about and wandering amid the shattered boulders shed from the cliffs above. After a nice gentle grade to start, we’d go from 2800’ to ~3300’ in maybe a quarter mile. Soon the narrow draw opened up and we could see a cliff band on our left. Then the right side came into view, and we could see the dark slatey rock dripping with water. Then Mark yelled, and the falls was in view. The lower falls twists and turns as it carves down the mountain side and we could only see what we assumed were the lower pair of decks. Closest to us were long narrow cascades with modest water flow, but we could see a few true waterfalls above us, barely visible through the trees. A couple clumps of trees on the right side looked safe for viewing, but otherwise we didn’t work too hard to find better views. I climbed to the trees and found a poorly tied climbing rope dangling down. Just as we arrived we heard a call from far above and some more dog barking, but it was too far and too loud at the base to try to communicate.

Buckeye Falls from below.

Buckeye Falls from below.

We spent some time taking pictures and having an early lunch (~11:30). The falls was perhaps the most spectacular thing I’d seen in the mountains in several years. In the CNF, Citico Creek and Roan Mountain get the most attention from hikers, but I was convinced that the Sampson Mountain-Rocky Fork-Bald Mountain area might be the real jewel of the CNF.

The hike back to Mark’s car went quickly, we knew the route, it was downhill, and we’d long since started just splashing through the creek crossings. Despite looking carefully, we again missed the old engine block, and wondered if someone had mistaken the logging car for a block (unlikely). We were back at the trailhead around 1:45 (now with one other vehicle) and decided to try to scout the Sill Branch trails since the weather was so warm and clear.

Sill Branch has a designated parking area (amid a lot of informal pullout camping areas) and even a vandalized signpost. We walked 0.4 mile (there were blazes!, blue diamonds and blue paint, not standard USFS blazes, but in the CNF we’ll take what we can get) to the split between the north and south forks. We decided to do the longer South Fork first. The trail was in good shape to the head of the creek, which was about 0.8 mile in, probably where the trail stopped in the early 2000s era of our book’s last edition. 

The trail then turned east heading up the first left fork at a furious grade. The blue blazes followed what appeared to be an old logging skidder trail, nothing else would have been able to drive so steep a road. We soon figured out that the CNF maps had this part of the trail wrong, they showed the trail climbing the second left fork. We suspected the trail would intersect an old logging road just below the crest of Rich Mountain in either case and continued up, gaining about 1000’ in a half mile. In addition to the blazes there were a few waterbars cobbled together, the trail appeared like someone’s boy scout project. After a lot longer than we’d expected we got to the logging road. There were no signs at the junction, but it appeared most traffic turned south on the road.

We turned around and carefully descended the steep trail back to the junction, then turned right to follow the North Branch to Sill Branch Falls. The falls was huge, maybe 25-30’ of pure drop and nice and wide. Even better the base was clear and unobstructed photography was easy. Mark declared the fall nicer than anything in the Smokies. It was a quick trip back to the trailhead, which we now shared with 3 cars of other hikers visiting the falls.

Sill Branch Falls.

It was another two hours back to Knoxville, plenty of time to plot our next trip to this amazing area.

Rocky Fork Revisited 11-21-21

James is working on the same revision to the Cherokee National Forest Hiking Guide that brought me to the Big Frog Wilderness and Ocoee Recreation Area earlier this year. His area is the Sampson Mountain Wilderness in the northern part of the forest, but with the addition of the new trails in the new Rocky Fork State Park and CNF that were acquired in the late 2000s. Rocky Fork was privately held when the second edition of the guide was prepared, but was acquired by a partnership of the USFS, State of TN, Appalachian Trail Conservancy, Southern Appalachian Highlands Conservancy, and the Conservation Fund using state, private, and Land and Water Conservation Funds to protect the area from development and logging. Prior to the acquisition, TWRA had leased the property for hunting, but had kept the gates closed to vehicles. The core of the area was then designated as a Tennessee state park with the remainder transferred to the Forest Service.

In 2010, after the property was acquired I visited the area to ride a mountain biking loop with Mark and Steven. We rode a 7 hour, 27 mile loop through the heart of the property and found an amazing resource with great scenery, sparkling creeks, and a MB friendly network of old roads, at least if you were in shape for some really long climbs. https://hiramrunhikebike.blogspot.com/2010/07/

Despite the attractions of the area, I had only been back once in 2011 on a SMHC trip starting to the west in the CNF Horse Creek Campground. With a 2:20 drive the area was just too far for a day trip.

James’ task to scout the Sampson Mountain Wilderness for the guidebook revision had grown to include adding all the state park and forest service Rocky Fork trails to the guide. James had already made a few trips this fall, but needed to cover some trails that were not officially maintained. With the need for a partner for safe off trail hiking, I got the chance to join him on one of this longer scouting hikes. Our target was what he called the Buzzard Rock Loop, which starts at the main trailhead, follows Rocky Fork to its head, takes the Appalachian Trail from Big Butt to Flint Gap, and then returns to the trailhead on the Flint Creek Trail.

We met in Knoxville at 7AM and drove 2 hours through Hot Springs to the trailhead. James had driven 3 different routes to the TH, including I-26, finding them all about a 2 hour drive. At the trailhead was parking for about a dozen cars, a portapotty, signboard, and a ranger truck.

Rocky Fork

We headed off on the Rocky Fork, White Oak Flats, and then the Headwaters Trail, all of which James had previously scouted. These trails are all former gravel roads and were still in great shape for hiking or mountain bikes. At the Headwaters/Blockstand Creek junction we turned right onto an “unmaintained” trail, but one I had easily mountain biked down in 2010. This trail was also still in great shape, with only minor blowdowns and a few easy rock hop crossings. James started his guidebook work here and marked several spur roads that branched off our main line. I took a GPS track of our route and a few scenic shots as well. Things got a little complicated when we reached the crest of Rich Mountain. Here we turned left on another unmaintained trail and followed some ATV tracks. We passed the unmarked CNF Squibb Creek Trail heading west down to Horse Creek and then stopped for lunch at Buzzard Rock Overlook.

Buzzard Rock Overlook.

After lunch we followed the still unofficial trail west over Ball Ground to the bald area on Big Butt, where we intersected the Appalachian Trail. We took a quick side trip to the top of Big Butt for another view then headed south on the AT. We had seen no one else all morning, but soon passed 3 solo hikers on the AT. James’ GPS map showed that there was a USFS road just to the west of us, that we later realized was an older route of the AT that I would have used on my 1976 AT thru hike. We took a side trip to the Civil War era Shelton Graves, the result of one of so many bloody encounters of that era. We saw an obvious, but unsigned, path leading west at Green Springs Knob that may have been the Pisgah NF Trail 287 shown on my old Trails Illustrated map. Not too long after we were passed by two mountain bikers, oblivious to the fact that the AT is foot traffic only.

Big Butt.

Flint Gap is a surprisingly steep gash in the ridge line. There are also lots of possible routes and few signs. James had been here previously and steered us down the steep slope to a series of close spaced junctions with the Flint Mountain and Blockstand Creek Trails as we followed the Flint Creek Trail.

The Shelton Graves.

I had noted that Flint Creek had been the roughest riding of our 2010 trip, but currently the trail is now in great shape and the many stream crossings are covered with new sturdy wood bridges. There’s a designated backcountry site along the way. As we got closer to the trailhead we passed two other parties and arrived at the trailhead after 14.8 miles and a 2700' climb. After that it was another two hours of driving back to Knoxville.

I left with a stronger appreciation of Rocky  Fork. In the ten years since my previous visit much has improved, and little has not. Parking, signage, and trail maintenance all looked good. James has seen many more hikers that we saw that day and a strong park constituency will be critical for keeping the park in good shape. ATV’s were staying out of the park, here in TN that’s the biggest threat to most under used trail networks. The area is simply beautiful, Rocky Fork is a lovely stream, as scenic as any in the Smokies or Joyce Kilmer/Citico area.

Norris Dam 50K Race 11-6-21

Thirty years ago I finished my first ultramarathon. My July 1991 run was the Deadwood Trail Ultra 50, which I finished in 12 hours and twenty minutes. A few days ago, I finished my most recent ultra at Norris Dam. These two ultras split my time roughly in thirds; thirty years before ultras, thirty years with them, and another 30 yet to come.

Defining an ultramarathon is easy, running any distance over the 26.2 miles of the marathon counts. Defining an ultrarunner is harder. It should simply be anyone who can run an ultra, but as with many things, looking closely complicates things. Does the ultra have to be in a race, or can it be done on a “casual” run with friends? Do you have to finish your planned run/race, or can a long run with a bail out or DNF count? And finally, how long does your ultra status last? Are you always an ultrarunner, even far into retirement from those distances?

Though I race infrequently, all my ultras have been in trail races. I’ve occasionally gone over 26.2 miles in training, but those efforts have been run/hike trips, usually done as training runs for an organized race. I also failed to finish my first ultra, stopping 44 miles in at the last aid station, broken by the day’s effort in the heat and broiling sun. I didn’t consider that an ultra. It was at that time my longest day ever travelled on foot, but it wasn’t the finish that I would achieve the next year at Deadwood. link

Since then, I’ve run ultras sporadically, with some 50K finishes, and a few others at 40 and 50 miles. I’ve been prone to knee issues, especially IT Band Syndrome and Tendonitis, that have limited my ability to race. But I’ve still been able to hike long distance without aggravating my knee problems. Because of those issues I switched my interest to races utilizing a lot of hiking and elevation gain. Luckily I found the Barkley Marathons, held just an hour away, as the perfect combination of ultra distance intensity with climbing and cross country route finding. For the last few years, the Barkley has been my only ultra. But there is one trouble with the Barkley; it is almost impossible to complete. There have been only 15 finishers since 1986.

When I realized that my ultra career covered 30 years, I was also faced with the fact that I hadn’t completed an ultra since 2016’s Rough Trail 50K. At 63, I also knew that my window for being able to finish would close soon, if it hadn’t closed already. I’d begun to wonder if I still made the grade. Was there a way for me to fit in an ultra finish?

I had run the 25K trail race at Norris Dam five times since 2013, had always enjoyed the course, and run well. Norris also has a 50K option and I thought I’d target that race to try to bring my ultra credibility back up to snuff. The Norris 50K is two laps of the 25K course with a 4 hour cutoff at 25K, and an overall 9 hour cutoff. My 25K times had ranged from 2:55 to 3:28, so I thought even backing off of my 25K pace I could make the 4 hour cut off, and then have some extra time on the second lap. My goal would just be to finish, and to be able to again establish myself as an ultra runner.

Through summer and early fall I trained for sweeping the Barkley Fall Classic, mostly with Ron who would also sweep. Even though I’m not even racing BFC, it is difficult enough that I need to train for the climbing, and to be ready for the unpredictable things that occur when an inexperienced field meets a difficult course. Those runs were similar to early season Barkley training; Armes Gap repeats, some out and back runs to the Garden Spot, and trail runs in the Smokies.

Once the BFC was past I did some longer runs in the Smokies with Run (a max of a 23 mile loop from Ace Gap) and some solo runs (my 17 and 20 mile Smokies regulars) to avoid any Frozen Head burn out. I’d also done Norris’s 12 mile loop in training just to get more familiar with the current conditions. On these runs I focused on being able to run rather than walk, knowing that was the way to ensure I’d make the race cut offs. I’d cranked up my daily greenway run at home to 8 miles and began to track my times, just to keep myself motivated enough to push those runs through the heat of the summer.

I felt prepared, I’d no recent knee issues and had a good solid base. I knew I’d need to run 4 mph for the first loop and just over 3 mph on the second to make the race cutoffs. But with no ultra finishes in the last 5 years, my real question is what would happen if my knee acted up and I needed to hobble on into the finish?

Race day was cold, but dry and clear. The leaves were reaching peak colors, but hadn’t fallen enough to make the footing difficult. I tried to settle into the back of the pack at the start, but it seemed we were moving swiftly, and running some of the short uphills that I knew I’d walk on lap 2. I ran a bit with Ranger Lydia until she got nervous about the cutoffs and pulled away just after the picnic table. I’d thought I might be going too fast, and then got nervous thinking that something that seemed too fast to me might really be too slow.

But at the 6.5 mile Aid 1 (John Storey) I arrived in 1:17, about 20 minutes under cut off pace. I knew I needed to run as much as possible to keep ahead of the cutoffs, but also needed to balance that with getting tired on the short climbs. Luckily the course is super easy to Aid 2 (Brian Gagus), just a gentle climb up Eli 9, then long gradual downhills. The sorting was about done, so I just tried to keep up an easy run. I lost a little time pulling off course for a bathroom break, but that stop was well worth it.

Between Aid 2 and 3 (Brian again) the course is a side loop over Observation Point and Reservoir Hill. With the climb I was able to make up a few places, and really enjoyed the fun trail on the ridges. I passed one bonked runner and stopped briefly to fill his water cup. At Aid 3 I’d made up a few more minutes. From Aid 3 we climbed Ridgecrest which allowed me to pick up few more spots, though I knew now that I’d be well under the 4 hour cut ff for lap 1. Things were going well. Descending the old road down from Highpoint, I tripped on something, and knew I was going down. I got an arm out, tucked my shoulder, and rolled through it. With perfect form I rolled back on my feet, and with just a bit of the spins kept running. I hadn’t made much noise and the guy just 10 feet ahead was now still only about 12 feet ahead. My elbow was a bit sore, but I’ll take it.

I was into the turnaround in 3:25, just ahead of my hoped for window of 3:30-3:45. I was out of the aid station quickly and was passed while descending the stairs by two guys I’d passed at the aid station. I wouldn’t see another runner until I was almost back to Aid 3.

Though my only goal going into the race was to finish, I’d been doing well enough to reevaluate my goals. I knew I needed to keep running as much as I could, and thought my original target pace of 1:37 to Aid 1 might be a good target for the second lap. Surely I shouldn’t have to give up more than 20 minutes over 6.5 miles? I backed off the pace a bit, and walked anything either steep or up, but otherwise kept moving well. I’d neglected to drink enough going to Aid 1 on lap 1, but had done a good job of eating and drinking since then.

I got to Aid 1 just a bit ahead of schedule and was feeling optimistic with the easy part of the course just ahead. This section put me over the distance of my longest training run, but I was still able to motor along. John had told me there were ~7 runners behind and I wanted to keep ahead if I could. Doug (race director) was visiting Brian at Aid 2 when I arrived. I’m not exactly sure what my split was here, but I thought then I’d break 8 hours without a major meltdown, and could go even further under if I was lucky. I ran the Aid 2-3 section probably very similarly to lap one, conservative on the climbs, but steady running on the rest. It was such a beautiful day that I felt lucky just to cruising along. My food and water were doing well, clothes were comfy, and knees and feet were holding up great.

Coming into Aid 3 again I was again revising my goals. Bettering my last 50K time of 7:40 at Rough Trail (it was actually 7:32) seemed likely, and sub 7 hours wasn’t out of the question. Just before Aid 3 I caught another runner. He seemed a bit out of it, went through the aid without fueling, and jogged up the road.

I got a last bit of food from Brian and headed out. I walked all of the Ridgecrest climb, but still passed the other runner early on. Surprisingly, I still felt strong both climbing and pushing on the gentler sections. I ran most of the upper section except the crown of High Point. Sub 7 looked out of the question, but sub 4 for the second lap was in range. I even managed to miss whatever I’d tripped over on lap 1 on this lap. About halfway down I got some early twinges from my left knee. The message was that it was still going function for the rest of the race, but that it wasn’t too happy about it. It wasn’t much further to the park gate, and once past it, the steep descending was over, and my knee was fine.

I was surprised to be running easily on the park road into the finish. So much of my “running” has been run/walk lately that the race must be the most uninterrupted run miles I’ve done in ages. My final time was 7:12, a 3:47 split for lap 2, so much for worrying about the 5 hour cut off!

Doug, Rebecca, and Michael were all at the finish and I gave them the huge thanks they deserved, the race has always been once of favorites, and I was really glad to be able to make it my return to (finishing) ultras.

Fall Colors in Red River Gorge 11-2-21

Our spring trip to Red River Gorge (post) was so much fun that the first thing we did once we got back home was to book another stay. We wanted to hit the fall colors, prime time in the gorge, but starting to fade back home. We thought in early November the leaves might have turned color, but not have fallen so thickly that they would obscure the trails and routes we hoped to follow. As it  turned out, we hit the weather about as well as possible; dry, but cold, and with the leaves at peak color.

My goal was to explore some new areas in the gorge both on and off trail. In the spring we’d done our first off trail gorge trips based off information we had gotten from talking to fellow hikers. It seemed that publication of maps and guidebooks describing the unofficial trails, along with a bounty of information online, had sparked an explosion of off-trail hiking in the gorge. Many of the off trail routes were well beaten in, and both the hikers we met and the sources that described them, often referred to them as “trails” even though they are not part of the official USFS system. In Smokies terms they would often be called “manways”, a term for abandoned trails and roads and/or user created paths. These unsigned and unmarked routes were a combination of short journeys to campsites or overlooks, and longer trips to overlooks and arches ignored by the official trail system. We were using a copy of the OutrageGIS RRG map, descriptions in the Hinterlands book, and some online sources to find our way.

Jailhouse Rock Manway 11-2-21, 7 miles

For our first trip we decided to explore the Jailhouse Rock Manway from the Auxier Ridge Trailhead. As a warmup) we decided to look for the Arch of Triumph just off the old road section of the Double Arch Trail. The entry was easy to spot and passed through two large campsites. The manway went over the top of the arch, but the arch viewpoint was easy to spot. Triumph is a smaller arch by RRG standards but still a pretty one and well worth the short side trip to visit.

The Arch of Triumph.

We also found the start of the Jailhouse Rock Manway easy to spot with the remains of an old USFS gate nearby. This route also bypassed several appealing, but dry, campsites as it extended out a ridgeline with great views of Star Gap and Auxier ridges. As seems to be our habit we encountered another couple returning form the overlook who gave us some handy tips on the route finding, and some suggestions on other places to go in the gorge. Just after talking with the couple, we were passed by a small group of guys, also heading for the Rock.

Fall Colors.

In the middle of the manway the ridgetop has begun to erode away leaving modest scrambles down to a saddle and then back up to the ridgeline. All along there are campsites scattered about and short side paths leading to overlooks. Near the end we passed the group of guys heading back along the route looking for a larger spot for lunch, leaving the overlook to Jean and I. We enjoyed the views of Auxier Ridge and Courthouse Rock, but couldn’t spot Double Arch across the valley. Looking at the map at lunch I realized that we’d passed Jailhouse Rock, and were at an unnamed overlook at the north end of the ridge.

View to Courthouse Rock.

On our return we found the Jailhouse Rock turn (obscured by a large campsite) and enjoyed even broader views of Auxier Ridge from the larger overlook. We met the group of guys again and persuaded then to head out the short way to the main overlook.

Vista from Jailhouse Rock.

Sometimes I’m not one to know when to stop, so on our return I suggested we go a short way out the Star Gap Manway. We passed several groups going to the arch here, before reaching a spot used as an appliance dump dating back to when the land had been privately owned. The dump marks an important junction, and we headed south from there to an overlook known for its sunsets. It was too early in the day for sunset, but we did enjoy more great fall colors. From there it was back to the lodge at Natural Bridge for the evening.

Old appliance dump.

Evening Overlook.

11-3-21 Indian Staircase Area, 9.0 miles

The Indian Staircase is one of the better known off trail routes in the gorge, despite its reputation for a steep section of exposed climbing. We knew of a bypass to the stairs (and you can also take the trail around) and knew we had plenty of time to retreat and take the bypass if the climbing got too steep. Our drive over was spectacular, much of KY 715 in the gorge was bathed in early morning light with the fall colors at their peak.

We started at the Bison Way TH and got into trouble right away. Just before Sargent Branch the trail forked where our USFS map indicated there was a junction with the Sheltowee Trace. We went left and the trail petered out. Then we went right and saw no STT blazes. We went back to the left fork and still couldn’t follow it. Finally, we went further on the right fork and across the creek to the signed Bison Way/STT junction. The junction was wrong in the USFS map! I should have brought along a copy of my “50 Hikes in KY”, the Bison Way Trail was also part of one of my book loops.

Approaching the staircase.

Once on the Trace it was easy to find the base of the Stairs and the bypass. The Indian Stairs MW steepened considerably as it approached the canyon rim. There were a number of short climbs up thick sandstone beds, and finally we were blocked by one ledge too high for Jean. Despite being close to the top, but not quite to the exposed section, we wisely turned around. The bypass proved to have a few scramble steps as well, but none too high or exposed. The junction of the bypass and main route was at a large overlook with good views of the canyon rim surrounding Sargent Branch.

View from the top of the staircase.

Not too far beyond the junction was a large rock house known by variations on the name Indian Council Rock House. This was a long, tall, but shallow rock house that is similar to Indian Rock House in Pickett SP. We had lunch there and chatted with two other hikers.

Bluffs surrounding the rim of the canyon.

Indian Council Rock House.

Next up was an unexpected treat. The Manway continued to circle the canyon rim with awesome views of the bluffs on the far side. Between the great views and nearby cliffs some concentration was needed. We passed through several beautiful campsites to finally rejoin the STT. Though we were disappointed to miss the staircase, I thought it worthwhile to continue the hike over to Cloudsplitter. The next section of easy cruising on the STT was Jean’s favorite of the trip, it turns out she was looking for a low challenge easy outing! We found the base of the Cloudsplitter manway and started up the deeply eroded trail to the top of the ridge. Not much further we were stymied by a rock tower with several ratty looking ropes dangling off various 4^th class cracks. Might as well have another snack if we weren’t making the top.

Badly eroded trail.

Soon we heard another hiker approach and were surprised to see a USFS ranger. Apparently social media is the bane of their existence, as information about places like Cloudsplitter were being posted online attracting inexperienced and inconsiderate hikers. The ranger was there to remove the rope to discourage folks from climbing. We talked a good while and got some appreciation for the troubles in managing such a heavily visited area.

Indian Arch.

On our return we decided to skip an attempt on Adena Arch to save time, but did visit Indian Arch which is right on the STT.

11-4-21 Natural Bridge SP, Balanced Rock-Rock Garden Loop, 3.7 miles

We split our last day into two hikes. At Natural Bridge we started up the Balanced Rock/STT to the top of the Bridge. We were the first up that day and headed over to Lookout Point. Coming back, we ran into our friend Stephanie who had been backpacking near Swift Camp Creek. Our return leg on the Rock Garden Trail offered an extensive “base of the cliffs” walk that showcases all the beauty of the rocky gorge.

Skylift at Natural Bridge.

 

Natural Bridge from Lookout Point.

Grays Arch, 3.2 miles

On our spring visit, we’d missed a close up view of Grays Arch because the approach trail was closed due to a small landslide. The trail was fixed with a sturdy looking reinforced ramp so we could climb to a point below the arch. Even with full access it is a tough arch to photograph; harsh afternoon light and thick vegetation offer few unobstructed views, but at least we got to see it in person. On the return, I was tempted to lead us around the loop to D Boon Hut, but with the long drive to Knoxville ahead we saved that trip for another visit.

Grays Arch from below.

Closer view of Grays Arch.

Beech Bottom and Jacks River Falls 9-28-2021

With so many hiking areas in East Tennessee we often forgot about national forest lands including the 600,000 acres Cherokee NF, and its hundreds of miles of hiking trails. Will Skelton has done as much as anyone to promote the Cherokee, as an advocate for preserving wilderness areas in the Forest, and as the editor of the “Cherokee Forest Hiking Guide.” I contributed chapters on the Big Frog Wilderness and the Ocoee Recreation Area to the second edition of his guidebook, and am rehiking and editing the same chapters for the now in progress third edition.

The revision gives me a chance to hike a few trails that I missed earlier and were described by other volunteers. The new trail I was looking forward to the most was Beech Bottom, starting in the very southern most part of the forest along the Georgia line. The trail starts in the Cherokee NF, but soon enters the Chattahoochee NF and the Cohutta Wilderness. The highlight of the hike would be the well-known Jacks River Falls.

Unlike the rest of the trails in the Big Frog and Ocoee, Beech Bottom doesn’t connect to other trails covered in the guidebook. So, it got left to the end of my trail scouting, along with a nearby section of the Hemp Top Trail, and the Ocoee’s Thunder Rock Trail, that had temporarily closed for a bridge repair. Once the Thunder Rock Trail reopened, I headed down to finish up all three trails.

Based on my trailhead driving trips elsewhere around Big Frog I suspected that getting to the trailhead might be the toughest part of the Beech Bottom hike. Flooding from a spring 2020 rainstorm still had a few roads around the wilderness closed, and the other roads seemed to be getting much less maintenance. Hedging my bets, I contacted another volunteer who told me that the road to the Conasauga Trailhead (on my way to Beech Bottom) was passable by passenger car (Thanks, Stephen!) The rest was up to me to find out.

Yes the right fork is the main road.

My route was US 64 east of Cleveland, TN to US 411 to Ladd Springs Road. After 4 miles the pavement ended at an unsigned “Y” with two sketchy looking dirt roads. Mine appeared to climb to the right and luckily, I soon passed a sign for the Cherokee NF and WMA. I was using a GPS app, but the base map wasn’t accurate enough to tell if I was on the right road. Another car came by, and I was able to confirm that I was on my way to Jacks River. On I went, my trusty 250,000-mile Corolla even getting into second gear occasionally on the flatter, more level sections.

A roadside waterfall.

The drive was tedious as my low clearance required weaving about through the larger road rocks, but after about five miles I got to the Conasauga Trailhead, and then passed the Jacks River Bridge and the Jacks River Trailhead. The road next turned up the Alaculsy Valley, and expecting some easy driving I was shocked by a couple of not quite car deep water holes where I barely made it through without having water come in the doors. The final leg was about 5 miles on FS 62. It was rocky and rutted, a 100% first gear obstacle course. I was having serious thoughts about whether I could make it back on the road when the trailhead finally arrived.

Trailhead Information.

For most Big Frog trails, a distant trailhead almost guarantees a brushy overgrown trail, so I wasn’t expecting much reward for my driving efforts. But boy was I wrong. The Beech Bottoms Trail was wide, well cleared, and a pleasure to walk. It’s a gentle three miles through open forest to the bottom, then another gentle mile to the Jacks River Trail junction. I guess the bottom was once a bit of a party spot, but the Chattahoochee NF has banned camping, limited group size, and probably isn’t in any big hurry to upgrade the road. That left the area clean, natural, and uninhabited. There was even a sign marking the trail junction. I knew that the falls were another ¾ mile downstream and headed that way.

Entering the Cohutta Wilderness.

Easy Trail to Beech Bottom.

I hadn’t done too much background reading on the falls, but knew there was an upper and lower falls, but not how far apart they were. Beech Bottom Trail had led right over the top of the fall, and I’d heard an impressive rumble there. Soon the valley tightened up, and the bedrock looked like a hard massive quartzite, perfect conditions for a large fall. Sure enough I reached the upper fall, a river wide 20’ drop into a tempting swimming pool. The lower fall was just beyond in a narrow gorge. This one dropped more like 40’ down a rocky chute, but it was the power of the falls more than the height that impressed. Sitting on the rock bank I could feel the rumble as much as hear it. Despite my late arrival at the trailhead, I’d gotten there in time for a leisurely and private lunch

Edge of the Upper Falls.

Upper Jacks River Falls.

n contrast to Big Frog, the Cohutta sees a decent number of backpackers, so I was surprised to have the falls to myself. Maybe it is more of a midsummer place. The Jacks River Trail has 20 river crossings both above and below the falls. Maybe that’s enough to keep away anyone who won’t sign up for a water slog/backpack combo. I enjoyed the walk back every bit as much as the hike out.

The falls from above.

I still had one section of Big Frog trail to complete that was located another 2 miles up the road. Not wanting to do any more driving I ended up camping in the deserted trailhead parking lot, just me, a cold sandwich, and vocal band of coyotes. The next morning I hiked two miles up FS 62 up to the Hemp Top Trailhead and found a lone pickup. (Look at the clearance on that thing, and I’ll bet it has got 4WD!) I walked up the first section of the Hemp Top Trail to its junction with the Wolf Ridge Trail. Again, despite my expectation this trail was in great shape. Partly I was walking up a southwest facing ridge, and the drier ridge discouraged the underbrush, but this trail must have gotten more maintenance than the Big Frog trails I’d hiked in the spring. I could even spot the old shortcut some hikers kept open to avoid the single switchback on the trail. At the junction I celebrated having hiked all the Big Frog/Cohutta trails for the guide.

It was an easy walk back down to the Beech Bottom TH where to my amazement I saw five other cars parked. Most were from the Chattanooga area and sported a variety of hiking/park/outdoor stickers, so I figured this was a group of hard cores. I wished I’d been there to talk to them about access, but from the high water marks on the sides of their vehicles, it looked they’d taken the same route I had.

It was just a couple hours of tedium getting back to the pavement, then a quick walk up the newly re-opened Thunder Rock Trail by the Ocoee River, and my guidebook hiking was complete. I was a little too tired for the drive back home, so I went over to Ducktown and got a room at the Copper Inn and dinner at Rod’s Rock and Rolls. The next day I hiked across the highway from Ocoee #3 on the Benton MacKaye and Dry Pond Lead Trail before heading home.

Smokies Tremont-AT-Lead Cove Shuttle, 7-24-21

This hike was actually put together by Cathy Henn and designed to make one of the most remote sections of the Appalachian Trail in the Smokies a little more accessible for two hikers who were working on completing their 900 miler maps. Cathy knew that Nora’s hardest Tennessee hike remaining was the AT between Derrick Knob and Spence Field. She also knew that Ron was just starting his 900 map. After they had set  up the hike, I crashed the party since I needed a long hike to start to get ready for sweeping the Barkley Fall Classic. Despite the presence of three veterans of the Barkley Marathons, the day would be all hiking.

With the heat, humidity, and exceptional crowds of mid-summer in the Smokies, we opted for an early start, a 5:30AM meeting at the Lead Cove TH. I met Ron at 4:45 on Northshore, we drove to the Lead Cove TH, and then we shuttled with Nora to the Upper Tremont TH. It was twilight when we left at 6:15, I used my headlamp for the first half mile or so. Despite the early hour we saw one runner heading down the Tremont Road, and there were two parties on the trail ahead of us. Temperatures were in the lower 60s.

Nora took off like a shot and we averaged > 3mph all the way up to the AT via the Middle Prong and Greenbrier Ridge trails. I usually like to admire the Middle Prong, and any other stream I hike along in the Smokies, and luckily the footing on the Middle Prong Trail was still good enough to do so at that pace. Greenbrier Ridge Trail has even better footing and seemed to flow by in no time. Ron and Nora spotted a bear near the AT junction, but I was a bit behind and missed seeing it.

At Derrick Knob Shelter.

We took a snack break at Derrick Knob shelter, arriving early enough that one backpacker hadn’t even left yet. The spring there is awesome a huge pipe with a very vigorous flow. Once on the AT, our pace was slower, mostly because of the rocky footing, but also there was more climbing along the trail, especially after Starkey and Sugartree gaps. Brier Knob was a longer climb, and the only one where the heat was a problem. We had a nice cloudy day that moderated the temperatures.

Derrick Knob Spring.

Coming up on Thunderhead it was hard to spot the peak, as the former bald is almost completely overgrown, except for a small area on the south side. There was one false peak on Rocky Top, and then another more open one, but even that area had grown over quite a bit. It had been almost a decade for me, and even longer for Nora, since our last visits to Rocky Top. We both remembered the 1970s conditions of the balds, and it is hard to believe that they are now almost completely tree covered. 

Open area along the Appalachian Trail.

We’d seen lots of hikers on the AT, and would see lots more on the descent, along with two horse parties. We picked up some extra water from the creek cutting the trail just below Spence Field. Ron led much of the AT and the descent, but we all kept together well. We did the descent in ~2.7 mph pace, still quite good for a long day. Nora and I saw a bear when we were already within site of the trailhead at the end. The bear took his time moving out of the way, then crossed the road, but moved away before he caused a bear jam.

Rocky Top.

Traffic was heavy as Nora drove us back to Upper Tremont to fetch Ron’s car. Almost all the pullouts on the road were occupied and the trailhead parking was nearly full. On the drive home, the Townsend Y was packed, and tubers crowded the Little River. We went from ~65F at the Upper Tremont Trailhead to ~90F in Alcoa as we drove home.

I ended up with a little soreness from the hike, a gentle reminder that I was not in the shape I should be this time of year. At 19.5 miles, this was my longest trip of the year since Barkley. 

2021, 7-15, Ocoee Mountain Biking

 The Harvey Broome Group of the Sierra Club is preparing a third edition of its “Cherokee National Forest Hiking Guide,” and again I’m writing the two sections of book that cover the Big Frog Wilderness and the Ocoee Whitewater Center trail systems. The two areas are very different, Big Frog is foot travel only in a wilderness setting, white the Ocoee trails are mostly used by mountain bikes in the front country. With the goal of riding the entire system over two days I’ve been putting in a number of training days to get my fitness and bike handling up to where they needed to be.

I finally spotted a pair of days where high temperatures looked to be the lower, and with relatively low rain chances and decided to head down. My goal was to ride the three trails east of the Whitewater on the first day, and then try to ride all of the main Whitewater Center trails on day two. There are barely more than 30 miles of trail in the system, but those miles are spread over 15 different trails, so figuring an optimum route was critical. The slow climb up/coast down rhythm of biking fits well with taking notes on the trails. I’d stop at every junction or other feature to jot notes, record mileage, mark GPS waypoints, and take photos. All of which would give me enough rest to tackle the next hill.

I had ridden most of the Ocoee trails for the second edition of the CNF trail guide back in 2001 and 2002 when the trails system was still under construction. The Thunder Rock Express, River View Loop, Quarts Loop, and Bypass trails had just been completed, but the Brush Creek and foot travel only Thunder Rock trails were not done by the time I finished my scouting trips. Since the second edition took so long to go to press, both those trails were complete by publication time, and luckily another hiker/writer was able to cover those for me. Jean and I did make two later trips to ride in the area, focusing on the very rider friendly Brush Creek Trail, but I had not been back since 2008.

For day one I planned to park at the Boyd Gap Trailhead and ride south out and back on Brush Creek, then ride out and back to the north on the Boyd Gap and Old Copper Road trails. I remembered Brush Creek has having an almost perfect tread, a standard that it didn’t quite live up to after a decade of wear. But still it was great riding, gentle downhill with nice flow. The Ocoee single tracks proved a bit tighter than what I was used to riding. The cobwebs along Brush Creek were thick, surprising for a trail that I expected got a lot of use. While hiking speed gives you enough time to stop when a web comes into focus, the faster pace of biking ensures you’ll see the web just an instant before you face plant into it.

Brush Creek Trail.

The trail descends to near the shoreline of Ocoee Lake #3 where it almost, but not quite, forms a loop. I suspected an old road might allow the connection and was happy to spot a road entering from the expected direction when I got to the neck of the loop. 

The next section of Brush Creek winds along the hillside above Ocoee Lake #3 with few features needing noting for the guide. Finally, I crossed another old FS road and reached for my map, but no map! I’d been wearing my field vest (nothing quite says dork, like a field vest) and stuffing my map in the back pocket, but even the modest bouncing from the Brush Creek Trail must have jarred it loose. Since I had hoped to short cut the loop section of Brush Creek on the return ride, retracing my route to retrieve the map would add several extra miles to a long day. I decided to ride on and fetch the map on the way back. Luckily, I soon encountered a local rider coming the opposite way on the loop and explained my predicament. He was planning to just ride a short loop using the connector I hoped to explore. Since we’d both cleared the cobwebs from the rest of the other’s ride, he volunteered to move my map to the start of the connector.

Near the far end of the loop, I was surprised to see the trail split. I followed the main split to the right which crosses under US 64 and swings up to the trailhead on the US 64. An overgrown path just below the trailhead was all that remained from the former Shooting Range Road Trailhead we’d used in the 2000s. 

I rode back to the split and then followed the left fork from the split which climbed a hill to a four way junction of dirt roads. The right turn led to the informal “Upper” trailhead on US 64. Returning from the “Upper” trailhead I again encountered the local rider. He’d found my map, and moved it to the connector saving me about 4 miles of riding. The connector proved to be short enough to just about see down the hill from end to the other. Thanks to him I had a short ride back to Boyd Gap.

After resupplying at the car, next up was Boyd Gap Trail. I remembered this as a fairly steep rocky and rooty descent, but also that the CNF planned to rehab the trail, which was essentially just an old road. The trail conditions were as I remembered, so I assume the rehab hadn’t happened.

Boyd Gap Trail.

To connect from Boyd Gap to Old Copper Road Trail, bikers need to ride down a short stretch of the Put-in Road boaters use to get to the head of the upper Ocoee River Run. Once that’s done its 2.5 miles of level trail to the Whitewater Center. Level though, doesn’t always mean smooth. The CNF has stored the roadbed to something of its previous condition, leaving a few rocky sections and some wet areas. Still, it is a good beginner trail and has good view of the river for those that ride on weekends when the river is flowing.

Old Copper Road.

The mines just to the east of Ocoee were once one of the major producers of copper in the US. In the mid-1800s, there was no rail access to the mines. To haul their copper to the nearest rail line in Cleveland, TN the mining companies built the Old Copper Road, which was in use until the railroads reached the mines. Most of the road was then replaced by US 64, leaving just this short demonstration piece for visitors.

Rafters on the Ocoee.

I rode OCR to the Whitewater Center and then took a quick loop around the site using the two bridges over the Ocoee. The Whitewater Center building is still closed due to the Coronavirus pandemic. Dam #3 was not releasing on a Thursday, so the complex rockwork on the river bottom was visible. A few folks were swimming and picnicking, but probably a much smaller crowd than on a weekend. Heading back to the car, I decided to skip trying to ride up Boyd Gap Trail (I was tired enough that I would have had to push most of it) and ride the Put-in Road to US 64 and then back to the highway. This longer but easier route got me back to the car at 20 miles.

The Ocoee Whitewater Center with no water release.

Though my legs were pretty much done for riding, it was still early, reasonably cool, and not raining, so I thought I could cut short my next day’s ride by hiking the Poplar Hollow Trail starting off FS 45 above the Ocoee #3 Powerhouse. Poplar Hollow is part of the Benton MacKaye Trail that also happens to follow an old section of FS 45. Much of the original gravel is in place and the trail has a gentle grade under a thick shady canopy, just what I needed for my cool down walk.

Memorial along the Poplar Hollow Trail.

After a night at the Ducktown Copper Inn I was parked at the WWC just after 7AM the next morning hoping to ride the seven remaining trails in the system. I wish I could say I rode effortlessly starting up the Bear Paw Trail, but I knew I had a long day ahead and that it would do no good to get tired early, So I just walked my bike up the long grade.

Near the top of Bear Paw, I took the first drink of water from a bottle in my fanny pack. Looking down at  the bottle cages on my bike, I noticed that both were empty! Somehow, I’d left my other two bottles in the car. With only two bottles I doubted I’d be able to ride the entire system as planned. I decided if I just rode back to the WWC after finishing the Chestnut Mountain Loop I could restock on water and complete the Rhododendron and Thunder Rock Express trails as out and back rides. More miles, but easier access to water.

Bear Paw Trail.

After Bear Paw is a short section on Chestnut Mountain Loop which follows an old road on the south side of the loop. Next would be the long side excursion around the River View Loop, which is a rough single track. River View has an official spur trail similar to that on Brush Creek, but what is the point of these, and where is the river view?

Chestnut Mountain Loop Trail.

Any long mountain biking trip is likely to involve a crash, and mine was of the low speed, should have seen it coming variety. Bouncing down the trail I spotted a stump blocking part of the tread. As I moved over to pass it my entire front wheel dropped down into the rotten dirt. I was lucky enough to get one foot loose before the bike went down, but the force of the crash tore the shoe off my other foot. I was hopping about one foot exploring the single syllable section of my vocabulary before I recovered enough to reshoe and head back on my way.

River View Trail.

My bike handling obviously wasn’t great and the rocky up and down of River View wore me down. I was glad to get back on Chestnut Mountain Loop for some flatter terrain. Next up would be the final major detour of the loop, an out and back ride onto the Bypass Trail. The Bypass Trail is a single track option that avoids a mile or so of the old road that Chestnut Mountain Loop follows. I didn’t find it any more fun, and used CMLT to return.

Fortunately, some easier terrain lay just ahead. The next few sections of CMLT follow FS 221 and an abandoned, but still nicely graveled section of FS 45. I rode past the junctions with the West Fork, Quartz Loop, and Poplar Hollow trails to reach a junction with the upper end of the legendary Thunder Rock Express Trail. This meant the end of the easy road riding and back onto the single track.

Not too long after the TRX junction the single track section of Chestnut Mountain Loop winds into a pair of small valleys. Crossing the head of the first one I rode over a few logs and heard a splashing sound, water! A tiny creek was running under the makeshift bridge and dropping into a small basin perfect for filling up. I scooped up a bottle full, added a tablet and powder, and headed off confident now that my poor packing wouldn’t ruin my ride.

At the Ocoee footbridge in 2008.

It was a long pull to reach the far end of the Chestnut Mountain Loop, but better hydrated I recovered somewhat along the way. I descended Bear Paw down to my car where I took a long food and water break among the tourists who had arrived since morning. My reward for cutting the loop short was an out and back ride on the Rhododendron Trail, which is a flat smooth pea-gravel covered trail deep in the shade along the south side of the river. After the rugged single track of the rest of the day, these seemed like free, almost effortless miles. After turning back at Ocoee Powerhouse #3, and ending another 20 mile day on the bike, I moved the car to the hiker trailhead at the Thunder Rock Campground for the last hike of the day.

Boardwalk along the Rhododendron Trail.

My final task would be an out and back hike of the Thunder Rock Express Trail. I remembered it as essentially a downhill trail, but was pleased to realize that it was more or less regular single track, and would have been ridable for me. The netting I’d seen in 2002 was long gone, lowering the intimidation factor significantly. I encountered two riders, making it the busiest trail of the trip. With TRX under my belt the only trail remaining to be scouted for the book is the currently closed for repair Thunder Rock Trail connecting the campground to FS 45.

Back in the 2000s when I first started riding at the Ocoee good biking trails were hard to find close to Knoxville. Now most of the local parks have trail systems and there are some nice easy trails at places like Loyston, Sharps Ridge, Norris, and Big South Fork to complement the more technical single tracks at Dirty South or Haw Ridge. For riders looking for new trails or more challenge the Ocoee area is perfect. 

My biking routes.