Too Cold To Stop

Richland Balsam and Reinhart Knob – Off Trail + MST – 2/11/12 – 12 miles, 2,770 feet elev. gain

My friend Jeff is helping me with the SB6K challenge.  He has hiked them all but enjoys my company so much that he is willing to repeat the tough ones just to spend time with me.  Or is he keeping his conscience clear so he doesn’t have to read about me in the papers?  Whatever the reason, I am very grateful for his expertise and for the opportunity to hike with him.  Jeff is a savvy hiker, has all the technology, and it’s no secret that I would/have followed him anywhere.  (Note:  after this hike I am adding a few caveats to that.) 

So after all these mild days the weather decided to go all winter-like on us, and our planned hike to conquer Richland Balsam and Reinhart Knob began to look dubious.  The Blue Ridge Parkway was closed and we couldn’t reach our trailhead.  After much phone discussion and internet searching, Jeff found a GPS track that offered an alternative:  an old logging road that would get us within a mile (or two?) of the Mountains–to-Sea Trail and a sort of lollipop route for our two peaks (lollipop = a short trail in, then a loop, then return on the short section again).

Jeff and I live in different cities and we have a regular meetup spot for hiking in western NC.  From there he drove my car (A, I was already tired and, B, it has all-wheel drive, gonna need that) two more hours to our new trailhead, following directions that included “go until blacktop ends, go on gravel, need very good 4-wheel drive, go to flat area at hunters’ camp”.  The rough road wound up and around the mountain and we powered through a few muddy deep ruts until a gate stopped us.   Errbody out, we’re walkin’ from here.  We began trekking about 10:50 a.m. for what we estimated to be an 8-miler.   

The moment we got out of the car the cold grabbed us, sent us scurrying for gloves and hats ASAP.  Our theme for the day was established:  too cold to stop. 

The logging road seemed simple enough for the first 50 yards… and then it split with no way to tell what direction was correct without Jeff’s GPS track.  And then it split again… and again… and again…

Then the usuable part ran out and the road became overgrown, littered with fallen trees of every size and new trees pushing up, sometimes 20 feet tall, but the track was still discernible because it was level.  It paralleled Bearwallow Creek, which was just spectacular with many lovely cascades and mini-waterfalls.  The creek gave an incentive to keep going.  We were basically off-trail now, pushing through thick underbrush and rhododendron and climbing over deadfall.  My hiking poles were a nuisance as I ducked under branches and grabbed onto limbs and rocks with my hands.  A couple of times we tried to leave the logging trail, but the mountainside was very steep and even slower to negotiate.  Traces of snow began to appear.  

We finally turned right to cross the creek and scramble a short way (short being relative), very steep and slow, straight up to the MST, which was thankfully flat and wide.  The bushwhacking wore me out.  I had to stop to eat a tiny Clif bar – running out of energy.  I am not good at eating while walking – no kidding, I can’t chew and swallow and breathe hard at the same time.  But it was too cold to stop for long.  Now snow was an inch deep, melting in some spots, slippery.

The MST utilizes many old logging roads in this neck of Pisgah National Forest 

A side stream trickling/freezing  

Ninja Jeff

The rhododendron say it's too cold to be out here

The MST carried us for several uneventful miles and then we turned right for another uphill bushwhack to the Blue Ridge Parkway - closed to traffic, remember?  We were looking forward to this part, the easy walking and expansive views at the overlooks, but out on the open road the wind was bitter and again it was too cold to stop to enjoy (high 20’s before the wind chill).

We paused oh-so-briefly at Richland Balsam Overlook, the highest point on the BRP.  Jeff pointed out the rock face across the road from the sign and said, “That’s the short way up to the Richland Balsam Trail.” 

And here I go.

Scrambling up, my hiking poles were worse than useless, kept getting caught on rocks.  I was always leaning slightly in so it wasn’t true rock climbing, but definitely scrambling - whew, out of breath at the top.  Then there was the half-mile trail to the summit  - remember, we are here to make a summit, ladies and gentleman - gaining more elevation than I had thought about today. 

I hope this is the summit (nope – but close)

Near the bench I took off my gloves for the world’s quickest bathroom break, then to peel and eat a hardboiled egg and put on outer layers of rain pants and jacket.  In that few minutes my fingers got so cold that I could not feel them.  I had to drop the egg into my pocket and pull on my thickest gloves (I was carrying 3 pairs).  Jeff complained of very cold hands too and we both started moving quickly downhill, almost jogging, and I put my gloved hands inside my jacket pockets and briskly rubbed my stomach trying to warm them up.  One by one my fingers began to tingle on each hand, really hurt like pins and needles.  It took 10 minutes to get to the other end of the Richland Balsam Trail at the parking area and my fingers began to feel normal.  Very scary.  I had the sobering thought that we needed to be extra careful because if one of us got hurt we would be in bad shape in this cold while waiting for help.

From the bottom of Richland Balsam we walked on the Parkway towards Reinhart Knob, but we did not enjoy the easy walk because of blasting cold winds blowing snow around on the road surface, stinging our faces.  Time was getting crucial – nearly 5 p.m. now – was there enough daylight to get back to the car?  Not likely.  We weren’t sure how many miles we had to go.

Using Jeff’s GPS track we scrambled to the summit of Reinhart Knob, a long, tough bushwhack.  The snow was a little deeper.  We both put our cameras away and got serious about finishing this hike.  The summit is covered with trees, no view, no desire to take a picture.  Again my poles were of little use and I briefly debated leaving them behind.  Then on the descent they were marginally helpful. The downhill bushwhack was slippery snow and we were scurrying because of the hour.  I will confess that sliding down in some places on my rain paints was almost fun.  I was increasingly concerned about getting hurt, though.  In hindsight I do wish I had some photos of what we were crawling over, under, around and through – but no time for posing.  Did I mention it was freakin’ cold?

We arrived back at Bearwallow Creek and crossed back over it in the area where we had crossed in the morning, what seemed like a hundred hours ago.  This was our last bad obstacle in the fading light.  We began retracing our steps on the logging “road” – didn’t seem so intimidating now because we knew what those conditions were.  Still, that last mile-and-a-half seemed to drag on as the sky turned pink, then purple, then darker purple.  We were determined not to use head lamps, and we didn’t.  It’s amazing how long daylight seems to hang on with no artificial lights, a slow fade.

Back at the car at nearly 7:00 p.m. – wow – eight hours to complete what turned out to be a 12-mile hike.  We crept back down the rutted road, Jeff driving again, and back on the pavement conditions were icy and the car slid a couple of times.  After an eternity we arrived at our meeting spot, dirty and starving, and after a well-deserved  meal we went our separate ways.  We agreed never to do that particular hike again.  I got home around midnight. 

Later I told a few people about this hike and the reaction was invariably, “That sounds just plain awful.”  Was it?  I’ve done a couple of shorter bushwhack hikes with Jeff in warmer weather and more vegetation where we’ve gotten dirty and scratched.  Hiking is hard physical exertion in any season and I’m not afraid of sweating or breathing hard or being exhausted.  Any marathoner, rock climber, cyclist, whatever, will tell you that his/her sport is physically demanding and the completion of a challenge is exhilarating.  Hiking is the same.  Since we had a successful outcome, of course it was a great, epic hike. 

The added element of the cold was the sketchiest part and we made one careless but big mistake.   With the last-minute changes in routes, neither of us had left a hike plan with anyone.  We were parked on a deserted logging road that likely no one would travel on for days.  I am embarrassed to admit that, but to everyone reading this, please don’t ever hike without leaving a detailed plan with someone and a window of time to call in.  In warmer weather, if one of us got hurt he/she could stay put while the other walked out for help.  In those cold conditions, though, the situation would have been much more serious. 

So…24 out of 40 SB6K peaks done.  What next?

Every mile is two in winter.  ~George Herbert

Mount Hardy - A Little Bit Lost In Middle Prong Wilderness

Mount Hardy, SB6K, Middle Prong Wilderness – 1/28/12 – 9 miles

Feeling a little restless in the new year without a hiking challenge – well, it looks like I should finish the SB6K.  We are having a mild winter in North Carolina and the Blue Ridge Parkway is still open in most places, so there is no excuse.  Some of the summits I must complete are off-trail bushwhacks and I need some help, but some are pretty simple. 

This was my thinking as I drove towards Mount Hardy on a breezy but beautiful sunny Saturday:  pretty simple. 

Mount Hardy is in the Middle Prong Wilderness, which is bordered on the south by the Blue Ridge Parkway and on the east by Highway 215.  Middle Prong is rugged wilderness where trails are not blazed, but this wasn’t my first rodeo.  I once slogged my way up the Green Mountain Trail to the very intersection with the Mountains-to-Sea Trail at the base of Mount Hardy…but I skipped it then because we were on a different mission.  Another time I passed the same intersection when Danny and I hiked the MST and we took the time to navigate the unmaintained trail to the top of Mount Hardy…only we stopped a couple hundred yards short of the true summit.  Since hikers are honest or there really is no point, I felt the obligation to reach the true summit once and for all to claim this SB6K.

The rules for bagging a SB6K peak include a minimum five-mile hike.  You can bag more than one peak in that five miles, but the five miles is essential.  The shortest way for me to claim Mount Hardy under this guideline was an out-and-back hike on the MST beginning where it crosses Highway 215.  I live too far from the mountains, I thought on the three-hour one-way drive to the trailhead. 

Hiking solo requires preparation.  I left my route with my husband and a time by which he should hear from me.  Middle Prong Wilderness and the next-door Shining Rock Wilderness are pretty popular so I expected to encounter other hikers on a Saturday.  This was a simple in-and-out hike on a trail that I had hiked twice before.  Mine was the only car at the small pull-off at the trailhead.

The trail was wet in many places, temporarily an MST “river”.  The temps were in the 30’s and the wind gusted frequently so my gloves and Liberty hat were essential.  I don’t mind hiking in the cold – no sweating!  As long as you keep moving, it’s easy to stay comfortable just by pushing shirt sleeves up or down, removing or putting on gloves.  I started off with a light step and passed the only white blaze in the Middle Prong Wilderness.

I passed by the meadow where our group camped in June 2009 on a shakedown trip prior to our visit to the Grand Tetons.  Funny, the meadow looks a lot smaller now. 

Thar she blows:  Mount Hardy

Hoarfrost on the trail, so delicate

A great day for shadows.   This is how I entertain myself when I am hiking alone. 

The trail to the summit of Mount Hardy is unmaintained, meaning don’t expect a sign and don’t expect even a trail, but so many people go up there that a path has been worn.  And yes, even some trees have been cut down to make the way easier, but it’s not official.  Imagine a line across the bottom of a page and an upside-down letter Y sitting on it.  The line across is the MST.  I was hiking from left to right and was looking for the left “leg” of the Y, to go the summit at the top of the Y. 

So…I found what I thought was the first side trail (left leg of the Y), blocked by a pile of limbs, which I nimbly stepped over and began to climb.  At the crux of the Y I turned left (theoretically going “up” the Y), and then I came to another intersection.  What’s this?  I wasn’t expecting an intersecting trail.  Both directions looked well worn and neither was ascending.  I stopped to scratch my head, rotated a couple of times, and realized that I wasn’t 100% sure now of the way I had come. 

Well, so much for a simple out-and-back hike.  Now what?  I knew that I should stand still to contemplate – walking while thinking you are lost is not a good idea.  After a good five minutes I made an X on the ground with sticks and turned back the way I thought I had come.  Happily, a couple of minutes of backtracking brought me back to what I knew was the MST.  What I still did not know was if this was a different unmaintained trail, an animal path, or really the summit for Mount Hardy. 

So I continued westbound on the MST, looking at my map for any landmarks.  The trail began to descend steeply.   I looked over my left shoulder and saw Mount Hardy – I was walking away from it.  What?

Soon I passed a trail going off to the right, but no signs.  Checked my map – was this the Green Mountain Trail or Buck Spring Trail?  If it was Green Mountain, then Buck Spring should be coming up fast and I would at last know where I was…well, I knew I was on the MST and I knew I was westbound, but I didn’t know where the Mount Hardy trail was. 

Hope I’m not boring you, but this is an important lesson. 

I kept marching westbound and quickly reached a creek large enough to be on my map, which meant I had altogether missed the Green Mountain Trail and had just passed the Buck Spring Trail, and I was way past the summit trail.  Time to turn around and start looking again.  But I knew that I was not getting off the MST now unless I was very confident that I was in the right place.  My time was narrowing down and I did not want the embarrassment or expense of anyone coming to look for me.  My pride was a little miffed at not summiting Mount Hardy, but “pride goeth before a fall.” 

Back-tracking, I again reached the side trail I had first explored, and traveling from this direction it was instantly familiar as the trail that Danny and I had taken on our incomplete attempt.   What a difference memory is from a different direction!  This was clearly the “right leg” of the inverted Y that I had been looking for.  Again I ascended the side trail, but instead of turning left at the junction, I turned right to go up the Y.  Sure enough, the trail climbed steadily, passing the clear space where I could see Sam Knob and Little Sam, passing the USGS marker which we mistook for the summit before.  I kept following the trail a couple hundred yards further until it simply ended and I knew I was on the highest point.  Here is a photo of myself in thick trees, no view.  You’ll have to trust me. 

Back down a short distance to the clearing with a view of Sam Knob, the warm sun on my back, I sat down on a rock to eat lunch.  Suddenly a roar came over the mountain, a sound so loud that I actually ducked my head, fully expecting a plane to fly over.  The wind gusting through the balsams is different than other trees, incredibly loud.  It sounded like a bear snorting into a microphone.  Of course, once I had that image I didn’t stay long, put my sandwich back in my bag and headed out.  It really spooked me. 

I descended back to the inverted Y junction, confidently turned right, which quickly took me back to the MST (where I had originally gotten confused).  I have a good head and memory for directions, so I won’t make the same mistake here again, but this experience was a lesson in map reading, orienteering, and I really need to use a GPS.
 

On the hike back I met a group of four adults with one little boy and five unleashed dogs.  I asked if the dogs were safe and the owners said yes a bit apologetically.  The boy was probably 2^nd grade, extremely chatty, told me his name was River, insisted that he share a snack with me.  Everyone was outfitted very well, including River, who carried his own backpack loaded with a Camelback for water and his own food.  Good job, adults!

An unnamed waterfall glimpsed across a valley on the return MST

Back at my car, a car pulled up as I was changing out of my boots.  A middle-aged couple (yes, I realize I am middle-aged too) got out and asked if there was a trail crossing the road there that they could hike on.  I said yes, want to see a map?  I suggested they go the way I had been since I could verify that it was okay, no obstacles, and I also suggested they hike for a certain amount of time and then turn around.  They were pretty clueless.  And in the time that we stood there chatting, the guy decided it was cold and he didn’t want to go.  And we’re worried about ME getting lost in the wilderness?  Sigh.

Listening to a new compilation CD that my son made for me as a Christmas gift, the drive time home flew by.  Six hours in the car for a nine-mile hike feels like no time at all when you’ve got good music.  

I dream of hiking into my old age. I want to be able even then to pack my load and take off slowly but steadily along the trail. ~Marlyn Doan

Panthertown Valley In A Different Season

Panthertown II with Leida – 1/7/12 – 9 Miles?

It took an entire week into 2012 before I could get to a trailhead, but it was worth the wait.  My good friend Leida is ready for new areas to explore and I had just the place for her…after all, after one visit I am an expert on Panthertown Valley.

The weather forecast was sketchy, always a good sign, and although it was chilly the rain held off for most of the day.  The web of trails in Panthertown is complicated, so rather than give you the turn-by-turn route and trail names, let’s just look at some pictures.

Got to get across here to see Schoolhouse Falls.  Gee, it looks cold.

Leida crossing the icy log because Sharon said, “Oh, it’s fine.”

Schoolhouse Falls, a different season

This icy puddle looks like a topo map, doesn’t it?

The small trail to Warden Falls that we used last time was covered with thick ice, so we looked for an alternate scramble.  I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.  

Apparently Leida will follow me just about anywhere

Chillin’ Warden Falls – a lot more water (and ice) than in November

What goes down must come back up

The map says to look for a steep, faint, unnamed footpath

Yes, I’m sure this is it

We worked very hard to get up this trail, built up some heat and had to strip down to shirt sleeves.  Leida says, don't make me!

Maybe?

Let’s go!

At the top of Little Green Mountain, the view across the valley to Goldspring Ridge (different viewpoint than November)

Log lichen looks like… butterflies

While crossing a pretty creek on the way out, we spotted these incredible icicles

And that’s the story of Leida and Sharon going to Panthertown.  A little rain in the last mile did not dampen our fun.  Y’all come back now, y’hear?

You need special shoes for hiking - and a bit of a special soul as well.  ~Terri Guillemets

My Year In The Smokies - A Movie While You Are Waiting For Me To Update This Blog

For my faithful blog readers and those who stumbled here accidentally, this YouTube video is a compilation of photos from my year of hiking all the trails in the Great Smoky Mountains aka "Smokies 900" in celebration of my first 50 years on the planet.  My husband secretly made this gift of love as a Christmas surprise.

It's a bit long and some of you may be bored because you don't know the people depicted and I seem to never change clothes.  Be grateful that there are thousands of photos not included.  If you hiked with me during that magical year, you'll find yourself in here somewhere.  If you followed me on this blog, you'll recognize a few things.  And there's some great scenery, too.  Don't miss the bear prints in the snow.  AND...the last picture in the video is my first picture on my first day on the trail.  

Music has the capacity to transport us to another time and place.  Songs included here are "That Mountain" by the Boxmasters, "Beautiful Day" by U2 and "One More Mile To Go" by Jay Nash.

"And when this is done I'll miss it, I know...one more mile to go."  Jay Nash

Hokies On The AT

Appalachian Trail to McAfee Knob  –  11/18/11 - 7 Miles Round Trip

Most of you know that my  husband Jim and I are Virginia Tech alums, as are two of our children and many of my relatives (I am a Virginia native and Jim got there from New Jersey as soon as he could).  Since graduation many moons ago we return regularly to Blacksburg for football games.  Every trip to Tech is a homecoming for us as many college friends gather to tailgate, celebrate and cheer for the Hokies.  Who knew back in those good old days that any of us would ever amount to anything?  And yet we survived, thrived and continue to come back to touch the old Hokie stone.

One particular game in November 2011 was played for TV on a Thursday night (we won) and a group of us planned to make a long weekend of it.  Our friend Dave arranged for a condo at Wintergreen Resort farther up the road and a limo winery tour in the Shenandoah Valley for Saturday.  But what to do on Friday?  Dave asked me if I knew of any good hikes. 

I thought you’d never ask.

The Appalachian Trail passes just north of Hokie territory and I set my sights on McAfee Knob, one of the most photo- graphed spots on the AT.  At the trailhead parking on Route 311 I got a starting photo of the gang:  from left, Jim, Dan, Dave, Colin and Cheri.  (I have pictures of us 30 years younger but may be incriminating.)

The AT crosses 311 and immediately begins climbing Catawba Mountain, a wake-up call to my hiking buddies after a late night game.  We stopped near the top to check out an information kiosk and rearrange clothing (how did this late fall day get so hot all of a sudden?).    After the climb the trail rolls gently until the final push up to the Knob.

An industrious Boy Scout Eagle project produced cool bridges over some steep areas, all numbered.  I think there were 7.

Less than a mile in, we checked out John Springs Shelter

A piped spring near John Springs Shelter

I know I’ve hiked in plenty of rain, but the vast majority of my hiking memories conjure up days like this one, with a cloudless, beautiful blue sky etched with bare gray branches and leaves crunching underfoot.  Walking past a white AT blaze, I wonder how many of these I will pass in my lifetime?

We crossed a fire road that the AT parallels and began the final long push up the mountain.  Rocks became boulders, some big as cars, and the path became steeper.  Then the sign and spur trail for McAfee Knob appeared – the main event. 

I've seen many photos of hikers dangling from the edge and I knew just where to position myself on the ledge called the Anvil.  When you’re standing on this spot it seems very solid and broad and you don’t think about whether it can just…break off or something…

Got to do all the poses while I’m here

The high point of the nearest ridge (just above my feet) is Tinker Cliffs, which the AT also passes over on its northbound journey to Maine.

A little yoga moment

We roamed around the top of the Knob, which is quite broad, then sat down for lunch, watching other hikers arrive and gasp at the incredible view. 

A last look

On the return hike our group got spread out a bit and I had the opportunity to walk alone for a while, something I always treasure.  Sometimes I think about stuff, but most often I just look and listen and breathe and enjoy what’s right in front of me. 

Checking out the Catawba Mountain Shelter, about halfway back down

The all-important privy at Catawba Mountain Shelter

Gaining elevation is hard on the lungs but losing elevation can be hard on the knees, so the return hike seemed a little long to my non-hiking friends.  We were glad to get back to the cars and head down the road to a good meal and our weekend getaway.

Have you ever thought about what would be the perfect fantasy day/weekend for you, all the things and people combined that make you happy?  This weekend came very close for me:  Hokies home  football game, college friends hiking on the AT, an all-day limo winery tour singing along with Springsteen on the Ipod.  I am truly blessed.

It’s something unpredictable, but then again is right

I hope you had the time of your life.  ~Green Day

Let us endeavor to live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.  ~Mark Twain

Tracking Panthertown

Panthertown Trails – 11/3/11 - 10 Miles (+/-)

Appearing on the Bergs hike calendar:  “Sharon and Mike are going to hike Panthertown on a Thursday.” 

I asked Mike to show me around Panthertown, a mysterious place in western NC where I’d heard it’s easy to get lost.  Mike is retired and flexible and I wanted to sneak away on a weekday since there wasn’t much work (i.e. no work) on my calendar.  Mike published the intriguing note and there were other folks willing to play hooky.  So here we go to Panthertown.

(Background:  Legend has it that the main valley of the area was so wild that it was called a “town of painters”, an old-time word for panthers.  The U.S. Forest Service began acquiring the land 20+ years ago.  From the Friends of Panthertown website:  “Panthertown Valley, referred to as the Yosemite of the East, lies on the eastern continental divide in North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains. With more than 25 miles of designated trails in this 6,300-acre backcountry area in the Nantahala National Forest, visitors can enjoy deep gorges and broad valleys, mountain bogs and granitic rock domes, tranquil creeks and plunging waterfalls while hiking, mountain biking or horseback riding.”)

Our merry band of four (Carolyn, Susan, a new hiker friend named Dave, and I) met Mike at the Lake Toxaway Volunteer Fire Department and he led us to the Cold Mountain Gap trailhead (different Cold Mountain than the book, y’all.)  My goal for the day was to ramble around with Bruce Kornegay’s map and see just how easy (or hard) it was it “stay found”.  Perhaps I put too much trust in maps and any day now I’m going to brush up on my compass skills.  That’s why Mike is so valuable, as he is an unparalleled navigator with map, compass and GPS.  And did I mention charming?

Also, Mike promised lots of waterfalls. 

After five minutes of walking on the Panthertown Valley Trail Mike led us onto an unmarked side trail. I pulled out my map and saw that this trail was designated as a “footpath”, i.e. no name.  Sigh...is this going to be a long day?   

We found Schoolhouse Falls down a side trail that had many side trails of its own

Somehow we got back onto Panthertown Valley Trail and turned onto Power Line Road Trail (the land was owned by Duke Energy before selling it to the NC Nature Conservancy, who then transferred it to the Forest Service.)  It’s an old road, rather bland, but soon we found the unnamed footpath we were looking for to take us to Warden’s Falls.  This footpath also had several branches off of it, but guided by Mike’s memory and the sound of water we found our way to a break in the rhododendron and the midpoint of the waterfall.  We were able to step out a few feet onto a rock ledge for a look, but there had to be a better vantage point closer to the bottom.  Perhaps one of those spurs off the main path? 

Scrambling back up, we turned to the right and scrambled back down another faint trail, and this time we hit it right.  A stunning waterfall!

Warden’s Falls

We had gone no more than a quarter mile off of Power Line Road Trail, but it may as well be five miles if you don’t know your way back.  I paid particular attention on the way to and from because I wanted to return here in the near future.

Next we backtracked a very short distance and turned to go west on North Road Trail, which parallels both Power Line Road Trail and Panthertown Valley Trail.  This was also a bland trail but it got us from Point A to Point B.  Some interesting plants along the way.

With our confidence established in the map, we took a slight shortcut on a footpath and worked our way over to Deep Gap Trail (or is it Mac's Gap?) and found Granny Burrell Falls.  Not as exciting as the first two falls, but I’ll bet it’s a very popular swimming hole in warm weather, just a couple of miles from the Saltrock Gap entrance. 

Mike at Granny Burrell Falls

Still working our way westward, we found a very nice shelter for backpackers, the only one in Panther- town.  (There is a big fire ring at the far end.)  Time for a lunch break…but where is my lunch?  Apparently it was still in my fridge at home.  Susan offered me some goodies from her stash, which I very much appreciated.  And I learned my lesson.

After lunch we checked out Frolictown Falls

And Wilderness Falls (low water today but probably very impressive after a good rain)

Turning back eastward, we backtracked past the shelter and hopped onto the Great Wall Trail, a lovely valley walk passing several really nice campsites and the Great Wall of Panthertown, an immense rock wall on Big Green Mountain on our left side extending forever into the sky, a rock climber’s dream.  On our right side was the rock face of Goldspring Ridge.  Not quite Yosemite or even Linville Gorge, but certainly a treasure that is worth protecting. 

After our 1.6-mile stroll through the valley, the trail turned left and climbed steeply up Big Green Mountain, intersecting Big Green Trail (what else?).  After catching our breath we turned left to walk along the ridge to look for some vantage points to see across the valley (aka more unnamed footpaths).

Standing on Big Green Mountain looking across at Goldspring Ridge

The score so far was five waterfalls and we wanted to find two more before calling it a day.  We backtracked down Big Green Trail and turned left onto Mac’s Gap Trail.  By now we were sharp on the lookout for footpaths, but this one puzzled us.  Kornegay’s map has topo lines, good clues, but the first faint path to the right was obviously not correct.  The second one started out but fizzled after about 50 yards.  We traced up and down the main trail looking for worn spots on the right, and finally tried the second footpath again.  Yes, looks like it keeps on going after all.  After a rough patch, the trail reappeared and we quickly descended. 

Never get nonchalant about Mother Nature, though.  The next waterfall, Mac’s Falls, was along the faintest trail yet and the rhododendron were so thick it was difficult to find a vantage point  to photograph it.  About this time the forecasted rain began to fall, and as Mike pressed on through the rhodies the rest of us donned rain gear and turned around.  We made it back to the cars only slightly damp and ready for Mexican food.  

On the long drive home we debated the nation's issues with the economy, education, immigration and politics.  Dave, on his first long car ride with us three women, learned a thing or two.

A great day exploring the intricacies of Panthertown – I can’t wait to go back.  There are ten more waterfalls on the map!

“Water is precious; it is the very source of life and a free gift from the Creator.” ~Desmond M. Tutu