GONE PHISHIN’

 

 

PG-13

 

The following trip report has been rated PG-13 for adult language, adult situations, and rampant nudity.

 

 

 

This year, Memorial Day weekend brought our (nearly) annual trip to Panthertown Valley.  Christy and I look forward to these trips less for the adventure, and more for the peace and relaxation.  How do we manage to find quiet and solitude in such a popular place over a holiday weekend?  It’s simple – we know of a “secret” campsite.  Therefore, my descriptions will be a bit more vague than my typical trip reports.  Well, all except for the parts involving nekid people.  Those I will describe in excruciating detail.

 

So, have you ever watched a lousy 2-hour movie just for the 2 minutes of nudity?  No?  I guess you were never a 14-year old boy.  Congratulations for escaping that.  Anywho, this trip report might be something like that, except that it won’t take 2 hours to read, and hopefully it won’t be lousy.  Read on, and see if you can guess when the nudity is coming!

 

Christy, Saucony, and I made the drive to Cold Mountain Gap and the east entrance to Panthertown Valley Saturday morning.  We got an early start even though we weren’t scheduled to meet up with Bob and Laura at the trailhead until after 11.  I wanted to allow plenty of time, as there is a waterfall along Cold Mountain Road that I wanted to check out.

 

I’ve been aware of Raven Rock Falls for several years, but I’d never hiked to it.  Raven Rock Falls is probably the waterfall farthest upstream on the Toxaway River, long before it flows over Toxaway Falls and through its storied gorge.  The falls is on private property, but currently the area is undeveloped and unposted.  You never know when those circumstances might change, so I decided to make a visit to the falls a priority.

 

We followed the directions on www.ncwaterfalls.com and found a pickup truck at the pull-off.  A group of hikers (all fully clothed, thankfully) was just returning from the falls as we were preparing to head down.  They had enjoyed the falls, but warned us that the path was slippery and hazardous.  I took their warning with a grain of salt, as they didn’t exactly look like hardcore hikers.

 

They departed, and we headed down the trail.  A short distance from the road, we passed a cascade on a small stream.  It wasn’t much today, but it would probably be worth a look during periods of wet weather.  A short distance beyond, we reached a high cliff with another waterfall.  The path took us behind this falls, where the footing was a bit slippery.  From there we descended, and I actually did manage to get my feet tangled up among some boulders and vegetation.  Truth be told, I was lucky I didn’t fall.  Maybe that will teach me not to play with my camera and walk at the same time.

 

From there, another minute of hiking brought us to the base of Raven Rock Falls.  Wow, even at relatively low water levels, this one is a beauty!  We had the area to ourselves, so Christy relaxed while I took photos.  It was a sunny morning, so photographic conditions weren’t optimal, but I still managed a couple of decent shots.

 

We hung out there for a bit before heading back.  We returned to the car in less than 10 minutes, and drove the last mile and a half up to the trailhead.  We beat Bob and Laura there by a couple of minutes.  We were organizing our gear when a couple of church vans arrived full of 12-year old boys.  It turns out they were all backpacking into Panthertown Valley for the first time, and didn’t really know where they were going.  Thank God for secret campsites!

 

Bob and Laura arrived and we finished loading our packs.  Bob brought his new pack, as he was traveling light on this trip, in preparation for our upcoming thru-hike of the John Muir Trail.  I took the opposite strategy.  Christy loaded my pack down with a hammock, some extravagant food, and two bottles of wine.  I was probably hauling close to 60 pounds for an overnight backpack!  I was glad we only had to hike a couple of miles to our campsite.

 

We took the direct route to our campsite, where we had lunch and unloaded our gear.  Afterwards, Bob and I decided to head out for an afternoon hike.  Laura chose to stay behind.  Christy planned to go for a training run later that afternoon, right after she had a power nap in the hammock.

 

Our destination for the day was Laurel Knob, which is located just outside of Panthertown Valley, to the southwest.  Laurel Knob, like many of the peaks surrounding Cashiers and Highlands, features a sheer rock face.  However, only Laurel Knob can claim the largest sheer cliff in the eastern United States.

 

Until recently, Laurel Knob was located on private property and was off-limits to the public.  In 2006 though, the Carolina Climbers Coalition purchased the cliff face and a chunk of land below it.  Through their efforts, there is now legal public access to the cliffs from Panthertown Valley.  However, the top of the mountain (which features a private home), is still private property and is off-limits to the public.  The only way to see the view from up there is to climb a 1000’+ cliff.  I was eager to see that cliff, but knew that my view would only be from the bottom.

 

Christy, Dave, and I had gone looking for the cliffs of Laurel Knob several years earlier.  At the time, I knew nothing about Laurel Knob except that it looked rather dramatic on the topo map.  On that occasion, we had followed Frolictown Creek to its headwaters, reaching the Panthertown Valley boundary at a gap.  From the gap, we should’ve followed an old road around the mountain to the southwest.  Instead, we had wandered down a new road into yet another exclusive residential community.  We didn’t find any views of Laurel Knob that day, but with word of the new public access, I was determined to give it another try.

 

Bob and I planned to follow the same route up Frolictown Creek.  That trail would provide the most direct path, and would allow us to visit a couple of waterfalls along the way.

 

We took a rather primitive trail up Panthertown Creek towards Granny Burrell Falls.  After a short distance, we reached a sunny, open area on the bank of the creek.  There, on the opposite side of the stream, we spotted a young woman fly fishing in a bikini.  Well, she was in half of a bikini.  It seems the poor girl had misplaced her top.

 

I know what you’re thinking – “You saw a woman fly fishing!”  Astonishing, isn’t it?  And I thought it was purely a male sport.

 

After only a brief pause – you know, to let my eyes adjust to the sudden sunshine – we shuffled on.  Well, I did.  I thought I might have to drag Bob along behind me.  We walked in silence for a minute.  Then Bob spoke:

 

“Was that woman back there topless”?

 

“Yes, I’m pretty sure she was.  Also, I believe she was fly fishing”

 

“I wonder if she’s caught anything?”

 

“She’s probably gotten a few nibbles”.

 

“Well I guess we know what she’s using for bait”!

 

Believe it or not, our conversation only went downhill from there.  I suggested that if those dreadfully boring fishing shows on TBS had more guests like her, ratings would go through the roof.  I know I’d be a lot more inclined to get up early on a Saturday morning to watch television!

 

Later, it occurred to me that she might’ve been a Mermaid.  After all, she was fishing.  And what do Mermaids eat?  Well, they usually live out in the ocean, so I’ve got to assume its fish.  Also she had long hair.  And she was topless.  Did I mention that?  She also had legs.  A Mermaid with legs – the best of both worlds.

 

After much consideration, I came up with a better theory as to how she came to be fly fishing in Panthertown Creek topless.  Here’s how I think it all unfolded:

 

This woman came to Panthertown Valley on a camping trip, and decided to do some fishing.  So she headed over to the creek with her rod, attired in a bikini, which is of course what all fly-fishing women wear.  Right?  So, she casts for an hour or so, but doesn’t get so much as a bite.  Then this fellow wanders by, and he’s a real smooth customer.  Smoother than I’ve ever been, or could ever hope to be.  Intrigued by what he sees, he approaches her, and attempts to make conversation:

 

“So, you catching anything?”, he asks.

 

“No, I’ve been here for over an hour, and I haven’t gotten a single bite”, she replies.

 

“Hmmm.  Well…, try it with your top off.  Maybe that will help!”

 

And the rest, as they say, is history.

 

 

We hiked upstream passing Granny Burrell Falls before rock hopping the creek.  We continued upstream along Frolictown Creek, before pausing briefly at the small but elegant Frolictown Falls.  Beyond, we rock hopped Frolictown Creek and continued upstream on an easy trail.  This path was still alive with wildflowers.  There were quite a few Mayapples in bloom, and I spotted dozens of lovely pink Catesby’s Trillium, along with a handful of Painted Trillium.

 

We eventually passed the headwaters of Frolictown Creek and neared the gap and the National Forest boundary.  Just before the gap, we spotted a narrow footpath and a small sign that simply stated, “Laurel Knob”.  We followed the path, which took us on a traverse around the southeast side of the mountain. 

 

This path was built to provide access to the cliffs, and you can tell it was constructed by rock climbers.  It features lots of steep ups and downs, and it wasn’t long before Bob and I were huffing and puffing.  At one point, following the “path” requires walking across a fallen log to avoid a tangle of Rhododendron.  The log was extremely slippery thanks to recent rain, so Bob and I bypassed it, bushwhacking around the worst of shrubbery to regain the trail.

 

Before long, we reached a rock face that provided some views.  You can’t see the cliffs of Laurel Knob from here though.  For the most part, the vista is confined to the immediate valley, which features several houses.  Most of the homes blend into the woods, but one McMansion high up on the ridge stuck out like a sore thumb.  From our vantage, it appeared to be five stories tall!  I can only hope that it’s a lodge, and not a single private residence.

 

From there, we hiked back into the woods, passing through tunnels of Rhododendron.  Some of the Rhododendron was in bloom, which added to the beauty of the hike.  Before long, we arrived at a new signboard constructed by the Carolina Climbers Coalition.  The sign provides maps, photos, and some useful information about the trails and climbing routes in the area.  It also has a short list of rules, which begins with the statement that hiking and climbing there are officially ENCOURAGED.  I like that.  Personally, I’d like to see more regulations like that one.

 

From there, it isn’t far to the cliffs, but the route is arduous.  We climbed and descended frequently, and although there were some switchbacks, the path was still steep and rough.  After a long descent, we finally reached an intersection with a wide, well-graded trail that originates down in a private community.  From there, the walking was easy.  A few minutes later, we arrived at the first view of the cliffs.  We emerged from the woods right at the foot of the cliff, so the scope of the view was rather narrow.  Also, the full length of the cliff isn’t visible from there.  At that point, there is enough of a curve to the mountain that you can’t view the upper part of the cliffs.  Despite these limitations, the scene was still impressive.

 

We had told the wives that we would return to camp by 7pm.  Unfortunately, we were almost at our turn-around time of 5pm.  We explored ahead a ways, hiking in and out of the woods along the base of the cliffs.  We found several additional viewpoints, but eventually ran out of time to explore further.  I’m already plotting when I can return again to see more of the area.

 

The hike back was more uphill, so we didn’t set any speed records.  Still, we kept moving, and by the time we crossed back into the National Forest, we were on schedule to get back to camp on time.  Then, as we neared Granny Burrell Falls, we heard the beating of a drum.  We knew that could mean only one thing; the natives were getting restless.

 

We paused at the falls, where we found the source of the drum beats.  A group of hippies was camped on the sandbar there, and some of them had formed a drum circle.  From the look of the camp, these people were planning to stay awhile.  I spotted 4 tents, including two that must’ve weighed 20 pounds each.  There were also two large coolers that were almost certainly not bear-proof.  I wonder how many trips these people had to make from the nearest trailhead? 

 

Our bi-legged fly-fishing Mermaid was there, too, and she was still unencumbered by any torso-obscuring garments.  We were glad to see this, as we were both beginning to wonder if we’d imagined the whole thing earlier.  She waved to us, and I waved awkwardly back.  I briefly considered joining the drum circle, because I like hippie music as much as anyone, but I knew that my wife would be suspicious if I returned from our “hike” smelling like Patchouli.  Instead, I settled for a couple of photos of Granny Burrell Falls before we hiked on.

 

We headed back towards camp, but made one more stop to check out the Pink Lady Slippers.  I wanted to get some photos in good light, as there had been harsh shadows earlier in the day.  We found a couple of beds where they were blooming in profusion, but I didn’t find a single spot with hundreds of orchids like I had on previous trips.

 

The next day, I did stumble on a bed with a perhaps a hundred Pink Lady Slippers.  What was more interesting was that amid all those Pink Lady Slippers, I found a single white one.  Is there such a thing as a White Lady Slipper?  It looked identical to the others, but didn’t have a hint of color.  Maybe it was really a Pink Lady Slipper that was an albino?

 

We made it back to camp almost on time, where we found Laura and Christy waiting for us.  Christy had only recently woken from her nap, meaning that she had failed to complete her afternoon run.

 

It cooled off a bit that evening.  I hadn’t brought much in the way of clothes, so I changed into my long underwear.  I think Christy was a little embarrassed that I was casually wandering around camp in my long johns.  We cooked an elaborate dinner of pasta with chicken, sundried tomatoes, olives, and artichokes, and shared a bottle of wine.  While we were eating, we could occasionally make out the echoing sounds of a drum.  Of course, the wives wanted to know where the sound was coming from.  We felt obligated to disclose the fact that we had stumbled across a hippie enclave during our hike.  At this point, Christy turned to me, and jokingly suggested that I walk back over there and tell them to put the drum away.  Then, eyeing my long underwear, she uttered words Bob and I will never forget.  “But you might want to put on some clothes first”.

 

Bob and I looked at each other and burst into hysterical laughter.  Once I regained my composure, I turned to Christy and said; “Honey, if only you knew just how ironic that statement was”. 

 

More gales of laughter ensued.  The women were not amused.  I guess we had some ‘splainin’ to do.  So, we told the story in full.  I’m not sure how much of a role the second bottle of wine played, but what seemed funny the first time around was absolutely hysterical the second time.  We stayed up late, hootin’ and hollerin’ and drinkin’ before finally winding things down around 11pm.  Now, more than a week later, the jokes about topless fishing still haven’t ended.

 

I slept well that night, despite the persistent call of a nearby Whip-Or-Will, which sang all night.  We got up at a reasonable hour the next morning, and Christy and I feasted on French toast and bacon.  After breakfast, Bob and Laura packed up and headed out.  They had some other plans for the weekend, and didn’t have time to linger.  Christy and I had decided to head home Sunday afternoon, but we weren’t in a big hurry.  I decided to go for another hike, while Christy planned to do the training run she had slept through the previous day.

 

For today’s hike, I decided to go in a new direction.  I had never been to the northwest part of Panthertown Valley, largely because the topo map doesn’t really suggest a compelling reason to go there.  Still, that didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything worth seeing in that direction.  At the very least, I thought I might visit the upper end of Flat Creek.  Flat Creek Falls, one of the state’s wildest and most impressive waterfalls, is several miles downstream from Panthertown Valley.  I knew I’d never have enough time to hike there all the way from the valley, but I figured I could at least get an overview of the area.

 

I hiked through what my friend Dave calls “the enchanted forest”, and crossed the main road that bisects the valley.  I continued ahead on another old road, crossing a new bridge high above a small stream.  After a short distance, I picked up a faint path heading up the mountain.  I took this trail, which climbs steadily through dense stands of Rhododendron.  After a hearty climb, I reached a junction with a short trail that connects with the old road to Sassafras Gap.  I passed this by, and continued climbing towards the summit of Blackrock Mountain.

 

Shortly before reaching the top, I emerged onto an open rock face above a high cliff.  From here I had a birds-eye view of Panthertown Valley far below.  Surrounding the valley were many sheer cliffs and rugged peaks, like Big Green Mountain, Little Green Mountain, and Cold Mountain.  Beyond the valley, I could see the tower on top of Mount Toxaway.  I also had a clear view of Laurel Knob, but from this vantage point, I could only see its gentle backside.  Farther away, I could see more impressive peaks.  I think I spotted Whitesides Mountain and Chimneytops Mountain from there, but I’m not familiar enough with the mountains in that area to be certain.

 

I took a long break up there, as the view was one to rival the vista from Little Green Mountain or Cold Mountain.  Afterwards, I resumed hiking towards the summit.  Along the way, I passed more blooming Catesby’s Trillium.  I reached the wooded summit a few minutes later, and descended the far side.

 

My map shows a junction just beyond the summit, but I didn’t see one as I descended.  A few minutes later, I got the distinct sensation that I was moving in the wrong direction.  I dug out my compass (which I use perhaps once per year), and discovered that I was walking west, rather than north.  I doubled-back, and soon came to a faint old road heading down and to the north.  I gave it a try, but quickly found it overgrown.  I backtracked again, and regained my original trail.  A minute later, I reached an obvious junction.  Coming from this direction, the two trails diverge directly in front of you.  However, when I came down from Blackrock Mountain, this path joined mine from behind.  If you plan to hike this route, you’ll have to watch carefully for the intersection.

 

I followed the ridge to the north, descending to a gap before rising briefly to meet an old grassy road.  This was the old road through Sassafras Gap, and it was my route back.  I had a quick lunch there, but decided to skip the hike over to upper Flat Creek.  Instead I turned right, heading back towards the main part of the valley.  This trail wasn’t terribly interesting, as I contoured around the mountain and frequently passed near Duke Energy’s power lines.  There was one bit of excitement though.  I came around a corner, and a turkey bolted out of a nest alongside the trail.  Saucony went crazy trying to chase after it, despite the fact that it was airborne.  While she took off after it, I noticed a handful of chicks escaping the nest, running in the opposite direction!  I thought about trying to get some photos, but I didn’t want to draw Saucony’s attention to the babies.

 

Later, I reached a side path that would’ve taken me down into the Tuckaseegee River Gorge.  I could’ve returned to camp that way, but it was getting late, and all of my wrong turns earlier had left me short on time.  I took the direct route back, eventually using the short connector trail to close my loop and return to the narrow path up Blackrock Mountain.

 

I returned to camp around 3pm, which was a good hour earlier than I had planned.  When I arrived, I found that Christy had just gotten back.  She had missed a trail connection during her run, and had ended up climbing over Little Green Mountain (no, she didn’t run that part).  She was a little annoyed, as Little Green had given her more of a workout than she had bargained for.

 

I lounged in the hammock for a bit, watching the pine trees sway overhead.  A bit later we broke camp and headed for the car.  Our hike out took us through a lovely White Pine Forest and along the peaceful waters of Panthertown Creek.  When we arrived at the Sandbar Pool, I was surprised to find the beach deserted.  There were no families, no hippies, and no boy scouts there on a sunny, Sunday afternoon on a holiday weekend in May.  We couldn’t just pass that spot by.  We strolled out into the sand to take one final break, and to wade out in the swimming hole.  Later, our lounging was interrupted by the kids that had come in the church vans, but by that point, we were ready to go.  After all, we were hungry, and there was Mexican food waiting for us in Brevard!

 

We’ll probably be back in Panthertown Valley next spring.  When we return, I’ll allow more time to explore Laurel Knob.  While we’re there, we might even consider doing some fishing!




Back to Nantahala National Forest

Back to North Carolina

Back to Hiking and Backpacking Trip Reports

Home



Please remember to Leave No Trace!