Rambling at Lumber River State Park

Lumber River State Park, North Carolina – 2 Miles – 7/14/12

Well, this was not so much a hike as a fact-finding, curiosity-satisfying, rambling side trip on the way home from vacation.  My family spent a traditional week at Sunset Beach, NC, and on our return home I decided to check out Lumber River State Park, just a few miles detour.  When I announced my intentions, everyone piled in my husband’s car and I was left (happily) on my own. 

I have spent time in most of North Carolina’s western mountain state parks but have only visited a couple of the Piedmont and coastal parks, most notably Eno River near Durham and Jockey’s Ridge on the Outerbanks.  So what is Lumber River?

In a nutshell, its name derives from its use as a transportation vehicle for timber harvesting in the late 1700’s.  Small towns sprung up along its route.  Lumber River is a black water river with deep channels that flows through wetlands and swamps.  Decaying vegetation leaches into the water, giving it the appearance of brewed tea.  Lumber River is the only North Carolina black water river to earn federal designation as a National Wild and Scenic River.

Rather than one central location, there are several access points that comprise Lumber River State Park with put-ins for paddling, fishing and some small camping spots.  I was checking out the Princess Anne Access, one of the main areas that includes a ranger station (closed on the day I visited).

First I planned to drive around and get a feel for where things were, but I quickly saw that Princess Anne is a very small place and I could walk the parking and picnic areas from end to end in less than five minutes.  There is a very large picnic shelter with charcoal grills and a large restroom.

It was about noon on Saturday, very hot and only going to get hotter.  I walked upstream on Griffin’s Bluff Trail first (1-mile round trip).  This is a simple stroll by the river’s edge and it was tempting to move quickly, but I slowed down to look at the details.  The water moves so slowly it’s like looking at a lake or pond, reflecting trees and clouds and an occasional fish jumping. 

Ethereal Spanish moss

Bald cypress tree

Row of bald cypress trees on the far river bank

Cypress tree with Spanish moss

Near the end of Griffin’s Bluff Trail a side creek flowed ever so gently toward the river.  Here you can really see the tea color created by the tannins.

There is a large wooden observation platform jutting out on a gentle bend in the river, a good fishing spot according to locals Gary Jones and his son, Landon, although not much was biting today.  Landon was very talkative, and shared with me every fish he had caught this summer. 

I backtracked to the main parking area, walked past the boat landing and a few young fellows silently fishing.  The stillness of the air made the heat more intense.  I headed downstream on the .4-mile Naked Landing Trail (could not find any info on how this got named).  This trail passed two campsites, one occupied by a large tent.  I was interested to note that there were metal garbage cans with lids right beside the tent.  No critter problems?  

This trail also stayed right beside the water.  I saw more interesting bald cypress trees and knees and wondered for the first time if alligators were common (answer:  not common but not impossible).   Soon the path narrowed considerably , but I continued to follow it until I got creeped out by the spiderwebs, realizing nobody came this way much, and turned back.  More so than alligators, I expected to see snakes, but no luck today. 

Cypress knees

On my return walk I met a family, grandpa, dad and elementary age girl, who were occupying the tent site.  I asked about the garbage cans, and Dad said the ranger assured him that black bears had never been sighted here, so no concerns about garbage (so I didn’t mention raccoons and mice). 

Back at the picnic shelter, a group of a dozen or so folks were firing up the charcoal grill for a cookout.  They invited me to stay and eat – locals again, good Southern manners.   Reminded me very much of my dad’s family, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, that would get together in different city parks in Richmond, VA for Father’s Day or just a Sunday afternoon to have a potluck picnic and visit.

All in all my exploration of Lumber River State Park took a little over an hour, well worth the stop to see how our state park system looks outside of the mountains and the population it serves.  I’ll bet a leisurely float down the river would be wonderful – in cooler weather.  I don’t think I’d ever be enticed into that black water.

I said a sincere prayer of thanksgiving for the air conditioning in my car.

A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still.  ~Aidan Chambers

Saturday In The Park

Moses Cone Park – 6/13/12 – 14 Miles

My friend Mike, whose hiking resume is extensive (I have yet to name a place in the U.S. that he has not hiked), posted on the Bergs website a last-minute Saturday hike at Moses H. Cone Memorial Park (aka “Moses Cone”) located on the Blue Ridge Parkway near Blowing Rock, in the part of North Carolina known as the High Country.  Why?  To expose some of the newer Berg members to this beautiful resource and meet some new folks.  What a great idea!  I think I’ll tag along.

Even on short notice we had a group of 8, everyone new to me except Mike (on the left).

Brief background on Moses Cone Park:  It was the summer residence of Moses Cone, very successful in the textile industry in North Carolina and known as the “Denim King.”  Mr. Cone died after just a few years of enjoying his mountain home, called Flat Top Manor after a mountain on the property.  Many years later, having no children, his widow, Bertha, bequeathed the entire estate to build a hospital in Greensboro, NC, and the estate later gave the property and home to the Parkway.  The manor house is now the Parkway Craft Center.  The 25 miles of trails at Moses Cone Park are all wide graveled carriage roads meandering throughout the estate.  Read more in Danny Bernstein’s book, Hiking North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Heritage.

We parked near Bass Lake at the lower end of the park and Mike revealed his hike plan for the day…which was a rough outline to modify as we went along, covering about 8-9 miles.  A bit unusual for a group hike, but Moses Cone is more of a stroll through a park than a hike through the forest.  Mike likes to “lead from behind” and he instructed everyone to go at a comfortable pace and wait at every intersection for the group to reassemble.  

A spectacular summer day walking around Bass Lake

Past the lake we turned onto the trail section called the Maze, where the path slopes very gently upward in long switchbacks turning around on itself.  On the map it looks like a rope tied in an intricate knot.  The result is gaining elevation without really trying.  At the Apple Barn we turned right onto Black Bottom Road, then soon turned left onto Watkin Road and continued the gradual climb towards the Parkway.  (This section is also part of my old friend, the Mountains-To-Sea Trail.) 

Emerging rhododendron bloom

More rhodies

Bumpy moss carpeting on a tree trunk

Watkin Road runs into Deer Park Road, which continues to the manor house, along the way passing near a building that now houses restrooms.  Horseback riding is allowed on all the trails in Moses Cone Park – but you must provide your own horse.  On this particular Saturday there were lots… and lots…and lots of horses.  

Lunch break in front of Flat Top Manor

John and Mike

Consulting the map and the clock, the group decided to deviate from the original plan back to the parking area.  The new destination lay in the opposite direction:  the Cone cemetery where Moses and Bertha are buried.  We followed Flat Top Trail underneath the Blue Ridge Parkway and climbed up along the edge of open pasture land still hosting curious cows.  

At the turnoff to the cemetery we found that we were no longer interested in gravesites but felt ambitious to hike another two miles to the Flat Top lookout tower, originally a wooden structure built on the highest point of the Cone property for the enjoyment of their guests.  (A steel structure replaced it in 1954).  We walked through more open fields before slipping back into the woods to ascend Flat Top Mountain.  We met plenty of horses and hikers along the way.  

On top of Flat Top Tower – what clouds?  Funny, I never notice them until I see the pictures.

From the manor house to the lookout tower and back is 5.6 miles, still strolling easily, chatting with everyone and enjoying the day. I very much enjoyed my new hiker buddies, comparing notes on various trails both local and out west.  We took the most direct route from the manor house to the edge of Bass Lake and completed the loop around the lake.  By now the trails were busy with joggers, walkers, baby strollers and duck feeders. 

Our total effort for the day came to about 14 miles – a bit of a surprise and more than advertised, but everyone was happy with the group’s flexibility and the inclusion of the lookout tower.  This was a good reminder to me that not every hike has to be extreme to be rewarding.  Some days it’s just fun to walk in the park.

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are.  Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.  Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.  Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.  One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.  ~Mary Jean Iron

Smokies SB6K Backpack Trip: Mt. Guyot & Old Black

Smokies SB6K Backpack Trip – Day 3 – 6/10/12 – AT/Snake Den Ridge Trail – 13.1 Miles

Through the night I dozed and listened, quiet except for a raucous chorus of frogs in the wee hours.  Rain was predicted the day before but it avoided us.  According to Jeff, rain was again predicted for today beginning at 7:00 a.m.  But rain or shine, this was our last day and I could handle whatever came.  By 7:00 a.m. we were packing up and still dry. 

Raindrops began to whisper on the shelter roof at 7:30 a.m.  Ah well…

Suited up for a wet day – two SB6K summits to go. 

Despite the clouds, we still had a view and some rhodos blooming on the AT

An old granddaddy rhododendron bush covered in glowing lichen

From time to time I am asked which trail in the Great Smoky Mountains is my favorite, and my standard answer is that I have some favorite days hiking there due to a combination of the trail, the weather, my fellow hikers (or solo), and the events on that hike.  But…it’s hard to downplay the uniqueness of the Appalachian Trail following the ridgeline of the Smokies.  Every step of it is infused with magic if you open yourself up.   North Carolina drops down over one shoulder and Tennessee drops down over the other.  Impressions of tens (hundreds?) of thousands of footsteps are underneath your feet, of humans on a soul-searching walk or animals looking for lunch.  The 2-by-6-inch white rectangles painted on the trees are the same as the ones in Maryland and in Maine.  So whether the sun is shining or the rain is dripping, the AT through the Smokies is a special place to be.  

Rain gear doesn’t really keep you dry when it’s above 50 degrees, because you sweat inside with the exertion of hiking.  But it makes you think you’re staying dry.  And today it served another purpose:  protecting us from more scratches and scrapes during our bushwhacking.  The rain tapered off but the woods were saturated as we began our next-to-last and most difficult SB6K summit, Mt. Guyot on the AT.  Jeff’s memory of Mt. Guyot was accurate:  a terrible, awful, no-good, very bad bushwhack.  The half-mile slog uphill took us a solid hour.  Even with Jeff’s GPS track, we tried and abandoned a couple of routes near the summit because of additional deadfall since his last visit.  The blackberry briars grew way overhead and we spent a lot of time stomping a path through (which helped a lot on the return, only a half hour).  

Slimy snails were everywhere, a bumper crop, and they seemed to bother me much more than the thought of gigantic rattlesnakes.  Grabbing onto tree trunks and branches, a few times I squished a little fellow and shrieked, doing a little dance of disgust as I wiped my hand on my rain pants.  YUCK.

The summit of Mt. Guyot at last.  Yes, this is worth it.

The final summit of Old Black was also difficult but much shorter, a .4-mile roundtrip.  A bit anti- climactic after Mt. Guyot, but a triumph nevertheless.  Now all we had to do was walk to my car – about two miles on the AT and then 5 miles down Snake Den Ridge Trail.  Downhill sounded great, but I knew that by trail’s end my thighs would be shaking and my knees would be aching.  But hey, I just finished bagging seven off-trail peaks in the Smokies!  I felt great.  

Continuing northbound on the AT past Old Black, we kept our eyes peeled for the remains of an F-4 Phantom fighter plane that crashed into the ridge near Inadu Knob in 1984.  Fragments from the wreck are scattered around the area close to the AT intersection with Snake Den Ridge Trail.  I had not seen this the last time I was here.  I don’t know how I missed it then, but it is very obvious just off the trail to the right.  Jeff guessed that some of the pieces had been collected together at this spot.

We turned left onto Snake Den Ridge Trail and began our long descent.  At the next intersection we split up.  Jeff turned onto Maddron Bald Trail so he could get in some new miles and also check out the Albright Grove Loop, a .7-mile side trail through rare old growth hardwood forest.  I continued on down Snake Den Ridge.

The smoky view from Snake Den Ridge Trail

Galax blooms lining the trail

Something big was digging around here not long ago

Can never have too many photos of rhododendron up close

Crossing Inadu Creek on Snake Den Ridge Trail, I met a fellow here who had backpacked in overnight carrying a huge camera and tripod

Alternate-leaved dogwood

Fun fungi

A half-mile from the end of Snake Den Ridge Trail is the Williamson Cemetery.  Most of the graves date from the early 1900’s, but noteworthy is a marker dated 1982 for Ella V. Costner, a World War II POW and Poet Laureate of the Smokies.  

The day was not over when I arrived at the trailhead.  I walked through the Cosby Campground to the hiker parking area and saw my precious Honda Pilot waiting where Daniel and Mike had left it, along with a note of their whereabouts today.  Turns out they were walking the same trail as Jeff (Maddron Bald) but we missed them by a couple of hours.  I changed clothes, cleaned up a little, and went in search of the Maddron Bald trailhead, going completely on memory several years old.  Luckily I recognized road names and landmarks.  After a short wait, Jeff stumbled up with tired, sore feet and was ready to go home.  Me too.

I knew that this weekend would be hard, hard work…and it was.  Yet for all that physical effort and discomfort, the feeling of being on a trail was as uplifting and transformative as always.  I don’t know if I will ever go bushwhacking again without a specific challenge goal, but I hope I can keep hiking the trails forever.

Thanks, Jeff.

Wouldn’t take nothin' for my journey now.  ~Jimmie Davis

Three More, Let's Make It Four

Smokies SB6K Backpack – Day Two – 6/9/12 – Balsam Mountain/ Appalachian Trail/Off-Trail – 12 Miles

I got up once during the night for a nature call and realized anew what a bad spot my tent was in.  Getting out of the door required crawling uphill, and when I stood up in the pitch dark I could not get my balance on the slope.  Arms pinwheeling, I pitched forward into a tree branch about neck high, which bounced me backward onto my butt, and then I rolled downhill back onto my tent.  Thank goodness I didn’t knock it down completely, it just sagged a little (okay, a lot).  After peeing, I crawled back in and vowed to die there rather than get up again in the dark. 

The trail crew guys were up early making noise, which never bothers me – I enjoy lying in my sleeping bag while other people are up.  They left by 7:30 a.m. and I carefully crawled uphill out of my tent again.  Had to wake Jeff up.  We packed our stuff, ate a little something, and then explored the crew’s base of operations.  We had a fun Goldilocks moment sitting in their chairs in the shelter – tee hee.

Packs on our backs and ready for three more SB6K’s, Jeff was in front of me as we headed back to Balsam Mountain Trail.  As Jeff stepped past, a brownish four-foot snake popped out from underneath the shelter and began its slinky sideways approach down the path straight toward me.  I began to yell, “Hey, hey, hey!” which to me meant “Snake, yikes, save me!” and to Jeff meant absolutely nothing because he didn’t turn around (perhaps he thought I was singing?)  I stopped on the path and the snake kept coming, until I stepped off to the right and it slithered off to the left.  I didn’t make note of its markings because I was fascinated by its graceful glide.  

In the first half-mile we caught up with the trail crew, taking a quick break from their morning’s work improving Balsam Mountain Trail.  With hazel hoes and rakes they had cut deeper into the bank and widened the trail.  Ours were the first hiker footsteps on this new improvement.

Balsam Mountain Trail is one of the best trails in the park that few people ever see.  From Laurel Gap the trail takes a distinct left turn and runs along the ridge of Balsam Mountain, acting as the horizontal bar of the letter “H” connecting the Mount Sterling ridge on one side and the AT ridge on the other.  It’s an easy trail to walk on, not much change in elevation, with glimpses into the valleys on either side.  The trail character alternates between hardwoods and alpine forest, rocks and roots and lush green ferns.

Peaking through (notice the dark cloud looming above?)

Bear print – we saw several of these, always headed in the opposite direction – I guess Mr. Bear was here yesterday?

Dropping our packs to climb Luftee Knob

Although not a picnic, bush- whacking up to the summit of Luftee Knob was not as difficult as Big Cataloochee yesterday.  In retrospect, Big Cat was an excellent first experience to measure the other summits against.  I didn’t like it, I was exhausted by it, but I survived it and felt that elation of accomplishment.  I continually asked Jeff for a ranking of all the other summits and a comparison to Big Cat.  Why?  I was going to do them no matter what.  But with any endeavor the challenge is mostly mental, and it helped me to get psyched (or resigned) to whatever was coming up.  Luftee Knob was a .6-mile round trip, less steep but just as gnarly with lush undergrowth and downed tree obstacles.   There was nothing to indicate the summit other than Jeff’s GPS said so. 

A couple of miles further along Balsam Mountain Trail we reached our next challenge, two summits originating from the same location on the trail, one to the right and the other to the left.  First, Mt. Yonaguska, which Jeff had not summited. (Those funny SB6K guidelines say that either Mt. Yonaguska or Tricorner Knob can count because they are the same height and are considered spurs of each other – Jeff has bagged Tricorner Knob.)  So up we went, the shortest trip yet at .25 miles each way and Jeff creating a GPS track, to this scenic spot on top of Mt. Yonaguska.

(And how do you pronounce that?  Yon-uh-GOO-skuh.  Say it out loud now.  Nobody is listening.)

Coming back down, Jeff says “Follow me.”

And I’m trying.

A little rest and something to eat while Jeff explains our next summit to Mark’s Knob.  This is 1.1 miles one way, which I equate to multiple hours based on what we’ve experienced so far.  But…this used to be a maintained trail (decommissioned how many years ago?) going around Mt. Hardison and Mark's Knob and over to Hyatt Ridge Trail (which now dead ends at Campsite 44) and it’s relatively level, not much elevation gain until the final push, and discernible where trail builders cut the trail out of the mountainside and leveled it (just like the trail crew was doing when we passed them this morning – go back and look at that photo).  AND several people had put up flagging tape the whole way.  I was thrilled. 

Summit of Mark’s Knob

New growth on balsam branches

One rather significant detail – unmaintained means crews no longer clear the deadfall on the trail.  We were constantly stepping over, ducking under or climbing over trees of all sizes.  On the return leg we counted about 350 trees across the trail.  Yes, that means that out-and-back, 2.2 miles, we had over 700 trees to negotiate around.  Yet this was my favorite summit because of little elevation gain and a marked path so I could find my own way.  

On the return, Jeff took the time to also summit Mt. Hardison (the “trail” skirted around the summit), adding to his long list of bagged peaks and making his time a little more worthwhile.  He still arrived back at our meeting point on Balsam Mountain Trail shortly after I did; he can move much faster when I’m not whining along behind. 

And hey, look, it’s still early.  Maybe we can make one more peak today?  Mt. Chapman is beckoning.

One more mile and we reached the end of Balsam Mountain Trail and our home for the night, Tricorner Knob Shelter.  We’ve stayed here before, know that the shelter sits on a very narrow ledge and there isn’t much room to pitch tents if the shelter scene is less than fun.  As we walked down to the shelter Jeff pointed out a camping spot to the right of the trail, sitting high up on the ridge.  Perhaps we’ll end up there?  But let’s see what’s going on at the shelter first.

Five backpackers were sprawled out in the shelter, 20-somethings from Texas who were hiking the Smokies section of the AT.  Their first question was did I bring any beer?  (I didn’t even need to look at Jeff for his opinion.)  We chatted with the young’uns for a few minutes, didn’t get any warm and fuzzy feelings, and then we left to conquer Mt. Chapman. 

Mt. Chapman is an SB6K mountain about a mile south of Tricorner Knob on the AT.  Then it’s a short bushwhack (.2 miles one way) but quite steep.  I was running out of gas by now and even a little elevation had me breathing hard. 

Dead balsam on Mt. Chapman - unusual bleached effect

Yellow bead lilies were so numerous we couldn’t avoid walking on them (aka blue bead lilies when the blooms fade and it bears dark blue fruit).

View of Mt. Guyot – shuddering chills and ominous music – one of tomorrow’s goals and the worst one of all (and those clouds hovered all day but no rain)

Summit of Mt. Chapman – four SB6K’s in one day! 

On the way back to Tricorner Knob Shelter, we discussed our sleeping options.  The Texas folks didn’t have reservations, so it was possible that the shelter could get a lot more crowded.  As we talked, we came up behind a young couple with loaded backpacks who was also headed for Tricorner (without reservations).  They wondered what we were doing, hiking around up on the AT without any gear at all (we had left everything at the shelter for this short side trip). 

That settled it for Jeff – he was going to check out the little campsite and relocate.  I wasn’t thrilled because rain was on the way and I did not want to take down a wet tent in the morning.  But it seemed a more peaceful option than staying in the shelter.

Again…oh ye of little faith!  The five Texans had discovered the campsite and moved in themselves! 

If we’d had a webcam set up, the next few hours would show the weary young couple from the AT arriving and spreading out their gear, several more hikers showing up, investigating the layout, choosing hidden spots in the woods behind the latrines to hang hammocks or set up tents, and various forms of food prep, including one guy who didn’t like to carry a stove (minimalist) but was not shy about asking for any hot water anyone had left over (yes, I let him use my stove).  One of the Texas girls came back to get her hiking stick, which was leaning against the wall and I had mistaken for a random stick and had hung my sports bra on to dry (sorry about that).  

We ended up having a very pleasant evening, just Jeff and me and the backpacking couple staying in the shelter, talking about past hikes and future plans.  A goosebumpy feeling, the farthest point away from a road in all of the Smokies, sitting high up on a mountain as the light faded.  Slept well. 

"Keep close to nature's heart, yourself; and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean."  ~John Muir