BACK WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

A little over ten years ago, I was surfing through the Backpacker magazine message board when a post from a girl in Rocky Mount, NC caught my attention. She was looking for places to go hiking, but had quickly discovered that her local options were limited. Replies to her original message had degenerated into an irrelevant conversation about skinny dipping. Of course, if you spend much time on the Backpacker message boards, you already know that’s par for the course.

Back in those days, I was a little more organized with my outdoor activities than I am now. In fact, I was leading a small group of enthusiastic hikers on outings almost every weekend. At the peak of our activity, we actually had a monthly calendar full of activities. We stuck to it, too. Even when it rained, we’d be out there splashing around in the mud. Oh, but how times change.

Whatever happened to all of those people, you ask? Well, a few of them are still around. Bob hiked the John Muir Trail with me last summer. Myron and Dorcas occasionally show up for a hike, when they aren’t lounging around in Florida. But others moved away, while some simply stopped showing up. A few, no doubt, began to realize that there were much saner forms of recreation than following me around in the woods. Meanwhile, some developed mysterious injuries or other ailments, or just got too old. Dave took to sleeping in on the weekends. One couple was last seen making out at a scenic overlook at sunset. Another poor girl was dragged off by a pack of wild dogs. And then there was the incident with Stacy*. We don’t like to talk about that nasty incident much these days, and it’s probably best that I not bring it up now.

Anyway, I digress. My point was that I used to be the leader of a rather active hiking club. An unelected leader, yes, but still the leader. This was mainly because nobody else wanted to take on the awesome responsibility of planning our trips.

So, after seeing this poor girl’s post, and the quality of the responses she’d received, I came to the rescue. I sent her a message, telling her about our club and inviting her on our next trip. We were planning on car camping at the Davidson River campground over Valentine’s Day weekend, and I had a couple of hikes planned. I knew this was a hearty drive from Rocky Mount, but I figured she might actually be desperate enough to make the journey.

A few days later, she surprised me by accepting my invitation. She had decided to come without requesting references or running a background check on me. Later I found out that her mother was furious with her for going, as she was certain I was some kind of lunatic axe murderer. At least she was wrong about the axe murdering part.

I met Christy, along with the rest of the crew, in Statesville early on Saturday. Christy had driven all the way from Rocky Mount that morning, meaning that she had left at an ungodly hour. I felt bad that she had driven so far already, so I offered to let her and her dog ride with me the rest of the way. She had brought her Chocolate Lab, Saucony, along because she hadn’t been able to find someone to watch her. Either that, or she was counting on Saucony to protect her from the axe-wielding lunatics her mother had warned her about.

It was a lovely weekend. On Saturday, we hiked the John Rock / Cedar Rock loop from the Pisgah Fish Hatchery. We finished that hike up at dusk, and headed from there to the Davidson River Campground. That night I cooked Christy some extra spaghetti while we all tried to stay warm around the campfire. The Weather Channel forecast for Brevard had called for a low of 20 degrees, which is a bit nippy by most people’s standards. Unfortunately, the Weather Channel missed the mark. When we got up first thing Sunday morning, Dorcas’ digital thermometer read 2 (two) degrees. Fahrenheit.

It had been a particularly rough night for Christy. She endured the cold in a borrowed sleeping bag. Sometime in the middle of the night, she got up to pee, only to discover that her tent zipper was frozen shut. She had been too embarrassed to call out for help, and had suffered through the rest of the long, dark night.

On Sunday, we did one of my favorite hikes, making a loop around Little Sam Mountain, and climbing Big Sam and Black Balsam. Towards the end of the hike, I noticed that Saucony followed directly behind me everywhere I went. The poor dog was worn out, but she wasn’t the only one. It was several weeks before Christy finally admitted how sore she had been that day!

For some reason, Christy showed up again the next weekend. Before long, we were spending almost every weekend together.

Christy and I have been together ever since, and we’ve now been married for four and a half years. Saucony was a wonderful dog for all of those years, and although she is no longer with us, we’re enjoying the company of our new puppy, Boone.

Last weekend marked the 10^th anniversary of that first trip together. In honor of the occasion, we decided to relive that trip. We’d car camp at Davidson River, and do some hikes. The trip was conditional though. First, if the forecast for Saturday night called for temperatures of 2 degrees, or for that matter, 20 degrees, we’d be car camping in a hotel. Second, Christy recently aggravated an old knee injury, so there wouldn’t be any 12 mile hikes. I was ok with that, as there were several easier hikes in the area that I still hadn’t done.

By the time the weekend rolled around, the forecast looked reasonable. Rain would move through on Friday night, but it looked like it would clear out on Saturday morning. Saturday night’s low was expected to be in the mid 30’s, and the daytime temperatures looked downright pleasant.

We got a late start Saturday morning, as we were inclined to let Friday night’s rain move out before we arrived. Our strategy worked well, as the rain stopped well before we reached Brevard. For Saturday’s hike, I planned out a route combining a couple of trails I’d never hiked before. In fact, aside from being on the National Geographic Map, they were trails I’d never heard of. I was a little nervous about this, as Christy hasn’t done much hiking lately, but I was ready for a little adventure.

We drove up past Looking Glass Falls and the Cradle of Forestry and turned onto a forest road I’d never driven before. After a short distance, we parked at Case Knife Gap, which is beginning of the Case Knife Ridge Trail. My plan was to hike up the ridge to the Parkway. From there, we’d follow the Parkway or the Mountains to Sea Trail (which runs along a ridge parallel to the road) before descending the Seniard Ridge Trail. The loop would be 6 or 7 miles, with an elevation gain of a little over 1000’. I was hopeful that Christy’s knee would hold up, but neither one of us was certain. We figured that if going uphill bothered her, we could always turn around and go do something else.

We left the parking area a bit before noon, and started climbing along a gated forest road. We passed through some recently logged areas that were rather uninspiring before reaching the ridge. The scenery improved a bit here, and we were treated to some views through the leafless trees of the sheer cliffs of Cedar Rock and Looking Glass Rock. These views will disappear in the spring, so I suppose we picked the right time to hike this trail. We paused for a quick lunch along here, before resuming the climb.

Hiking uphill didn’t seem to bother Christy’s knee much, which was a relief. The route was poorly graded, as there were some steep sections. By the time we neared the Parkway, we were both ready for a change of pace.

I had planned this hike for the winter since the section of the Parkway through Graveyard Fields is usually closed then. Apparently the recent warm spell had changed that though, as there was a fair bit of traffic on the Parkway. I wasn’t enthusiastic about walking along the shoulder of the road with Boone on a leash, but Christy wasn’t interested in additional uphill hiking. We decided to compromise. Christy would walk the Parkway to Bridges Camp Gap, while Boone and I would follow the Mountains to Sea Trail along the ridge above the road. Everyone seemed to approve of this plan except Boone. He did not like it when we went separate ways. He spent most of the next mile trying to drag me back down the mountain in pursuit of his mommy.

I crossed the Parkway and set an aggressive pace up the mountain, knowing that Christy would get ahead of me. This part of the MST is fairly pleasant, although it stays close to the road initially. Eventually I climbed well above the Parkway, before beginning a quick descent back to the road. A bit later, Boone and I followed the shoulder of the road to the Looking Glass Rock overlook, where we were treated to fantastic views. We caught up with Christy here, and continued up the road together. A bit later, we found the trailhead for the Seniard Ridge Trail, which is marked with a simple sign depicting the figure of a hiker.

The initial descent from the Parkway is steep and rocky. Before long, Christy was hobbling along behind me. The terrain had finally caught up with her knee, but now we had no choice but to finish the hike. We descend slowly, working our way carefully down the trail. The grade eventually eased, and we passed through another recently logged area. The descent resumed before we rock-hopped a small stream. A few minutes later, the confusion began.

We arrived at a junction, with an old logging road heading up, and a newer, recently traveled logging road continuing ahead. I knew this part of the Seniard Ridge Trail followed a logging road, but which one? Based on the map, I thought we would contour around the next ridge, before arriving at the waterfall on the southern tributary of Log Hollow Branch. Going up didn’t seem to be the likely route, so we continued ahead, following the road. This wasn’t very thrilling, as we passed through more recently logged areas. We were treated to some clear views of the north face of Looking Glass Rock, but that was the only redeeming quality for this part of the hike.

We contoured around several ridges on a gradual descent. The farther we walked, the more I began to doubt our route. It was taking a lot longer to get to the next stream than I had anticipated. However, I wasn’t terribly worried, as the condition of the road made it apparent that it would lead us somewhere – most likely out to the road we had driven in on. That would mean missing out on three waterfalls though, and those waterfalls had been the focal point of the hike.

We began contouring around another ridge, and I decided to scramble up to assess our surroundings. There was a stream in the next valley, which I thought must be the southern tributary of Log Hollow Branch. I decided to scout further, while Christy took a break in the afternoon sun.

Boone accompanied me up an incredibly steep ridge. There was some semblance of a path initially, but eventually briars and fallen trees became a nuisance. After a few minutes, I dropped off the far side and headed towards the creek, which I could just glimpse through the woods below. A few minutes later, I approached the base of a high but mostly dry waterfall. The stream was really just a trickle, but this cascade might be worth a look after a hard rain. Above the falls, I could clearly see a graded road. Was that the road we were supposed to be on? According to Kevin Adams’ guide, the waterfall drops right down to the road. However, this waterfall was below the road. After all my scouting, I still wasn’t sure. I didn’t really matter much though. There was no way I’d convince Christy to follow me up that ridge!

We returned to her, and resumed the hike on the logging road. We made one long, sweeping curve around the ridge, before dropping down towards the creek. A few minutes later, we arrived right at the base of the waterfall we were looking for. I felt a little silly, as we had been on the correct route all along! The waterfall wasn’t much to look at, as the water level was fairly low. I had picked this hike partially because it had rained the previous night. Unfortunately the rain had been light, and it hadn’t done much for the volume in this creek.

From there, we continued to follow the road. A few minutes of easy walking brought us to the falls on Log Hollow Branch. This waterfall is also visible from the road, but a short scramble to the base provides a better view. Log Hollow Branch is a larger stream than its southern tributary, and this one was considerably more impressive. I took a few photos, before exploring further upstream. Just beyond the main falls I found another drop. This one was fairly nice too, but it was impossible to photograph as it’s surrounded by a jungle of rhododendron.

We resumed the hike, and arrived at a bridge over the northern tributary of Log Hollow Branch. Kevin Adams’ mentions another waterfall on this stream, but it’s not visible from the road. I decided to check it out, but Christy was done for the day. She decided to get a head start back to the car. Boone was pretty much whipped, too, so she leashed him and took him with her.

I followed a faint path upstream. The hiking was pretty easy initially, although there were a few fallen trees to contend with. Before long I began to climb steeply, and I knew I was getting close. The waterfall finally came into view, but it was pretty disappointing. Kevin Adams notes that this one needs a lot of water to make it worthwhile, and he’s right. Although the water level was higher than what you’d expect in a dry summer, it was pretty weak for February. Today, it wasn’t even worth getting the camera out.

I returned quickly, and followed the logging road out to the forest road we had driven in on. Before long, Christy drove around the bend, saving me a few minutes of tedious road walking. From there, we headed to Davidson River Campground, taking the back way since we were already going in that direction. We passed Slick Rock Falls along the way, but we didn’t stop. After seeing the low water levels on other streams, I didn’t think it would be worth a visit.

The loop hike we made was ok, but I doubt I’ll do it again. The Case Knife Ridge and Seniard Ridge Trails don’t have much in the way of views, and both pass through some recently logged areas. I would like to visit the waterfalls in the area again, but only after an extended period of wet weather.

Only two loops at the campground were open, and we were surprised to find a fair number of other people camping. Many of the available sites were double sites, which now cost $40. This left us with only a few single sites to choose from. We picked one near one of the restrooms, and began setting up camp. It wasn’t until after we were nearly set up that I discovered that the bathroom was closed. Apparently only one restroom in the entire campground was open. Despite this, prices had recently increased to $20. Ah, but there’s nothing like increasing prices while reducing services! This was a nice reminder of why we usually stay at a primitive (i.e. free) site when we are in the area. This weekend we had to stay at Davidson River though, to properly celebrate our anniversary.

That night, I cooked Christy spaghetti, much like I did 10 years earlier. We enjoyed a bottle of wine and a toasty campfire, both of which kept us warm well into the night. Eventually we shuffled off to the tent, where we tried out an experimental sleeping arrangement. Normally we would bring our winter sleeping bags and zip them together. Unfortunately, the zippers on those bags are shot. Instead, we brought our summer bags, zipped together, along with our 3 season down bags. We got in our individual down bags, and then slipped inside the summer bags. We then let Boone inside the summer bags, in between us. If anything, this worked too well. At one point I woke up overheated. That puppy puts out a lot of heat!

We were up fairly early the next morning, as it wasn’t terribly cold. We enjoyed a breakfast of eggs and potatoes before packing up. From there, we headed up past the Pisgah Fish Hatchery and through Glouchester Gap. My goal for the day was a couple of areas I’d never been to. They required only short, easy hikes, which seemed like a good idea since Christy’s knee was still sore.

We reached highway 215 and headed north towards the Parkway. On our second pass, we found the turn to Dill Falls. After a short drive down this dirt road, we found further progress blocked by a gate. I had heard that this gate was still closed, so we had anticipated having to walk from here.

We pulled off, gathered our gear, and started down the road. This was an easy walk, but I must say I was puzzled as to why the road was closed. The forest service closed it after the 2005 hurricanes, allegedly due to road damage. However, there wasn’t any hint of damage along the part of the road we walked. In fact, I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a dirt road in better shape. The only hazard we encountered involved dodging frequent piles of scat. We spotted a new pile every 20’ or so. I’ve hiked horse trails that were cleaner than this one! Most of it appeared to be from dogs, but it didn’t look like these dogs were eating Alpo. Are there packs of wild dogs or coyotes roaming this area?

We followed Kevin Adams’ directions, and reached the base of Dill Falls after about an hour. This is a nice waterfall, and I’m not sure why it took me so long to visit it. The sun was out, which didn’t help for photography, but it did make for a warm, pleasant picnic lunch at the falls. We lounged around for a bit, before I grew restless. I decided to make an attempt at Upper Dill Falls, which is just upstream. I climbed an incredibly steep slope, staying well away from the falls. Eventually I tried to work my way back towards the creek, but the foliage and steep terrain kept forcing me away. Eventually I emerged from the woods on another logging road. As soon as I reached it, I knew I had overshot the upper falls. I walked down the road until I found a rough, steep track heading down. This route wasn’t bad, and I reached the base of the upper falls a few minutes later. Just as I arrived, a cloud that had been blocking the sun gave way, once again hampering my photography. I decided to wait for a bit, and enjoy the falls. It’s fairly nice, too, although not as impressive as the main falls. While I was waiting, I noticed that Boone was playing in the creek only a few yards upstream from the brink of the main falls. This was making me nervous, so I decided to head back. Shortly after I left, another cloud moved in, blocking the sun. Sigh.

The descent from there was a little hairy, but we made it down without much trouble. A bit later, a family with several dogs arrived. The dogs all played together for a bit, but we decided to let them enjoy Dill Falls in peace. We hiked back to the car, and made a short drive over to the Courthouse Falls area. Courthouse Falls has been on my to-do list for years, but for some reason, I had never made it there.

We walked the short, easy trail to the falls. Even before we arrived, we were tantalized with fleeting glimpses of the waterfall through the trees. The trail finally dropped down to the base of the falls, at the foot of a deep green pool in a dark grotto. This is a really cool spot, and it ended up being Christy’s favorite waterfall of the whole trip.

There was another couple at the falls, and they had two dogs. The girl was standing on a rock at the edge of the pool, holding onto a long leash while her dog swam in the pool. This looked like a recipe for disaster to me. Every now and then, she would let out a shriek as the dog would pull her off balance. This was pretty annoying, as she seemed to be overly dramatic about everything. At one point she did slip, and dunked her leg in the creek. After about her third or fourth shriek, I was actually hoping to see her go for an inadvertent swim!

Originally Christy and I had planned to hike the Summey Cove Trail from highway 215 to the falls and back. However, Christy’s knee was unhappy, so we had altered our plans. From the falls, I would hike through Summey Cove and out to the highway, where Christy would pick me up. I expected the hike to take an hour, and Christy had originally planned to relax at the falls while I was hiking. Under the circumstances, relaxing there seemed unlikely, so she decided to wait for me in the car. We left the falls together, before returning to the main Summey Cove Trail. We parted ways again there, while I took Boone with me. Just as we were leaving, we heard a piercing scream from below. Had that girl finally fallen in the river? If so, I’m sorry I missed that.

Boone and I headed down the trail, and somehow Boone failed to notice that Christy wasn’t with us. When he finally did realize it, he seemed convinced that she was ahead of us. He kept running ahead, but that was ok, as he returned each time.

The Summey Cove Trail started out as a nice hike. I crossed a couple of streams, and was treated to a few winter views of Pilot Mountain and Devils Courthouse high above. After the second stream though, the trail turned evil. The map suggested that the trail would climb some, but would also contour around the ridge ahead. Instead, the path went straight up. It was along here that I began to feel fatigue from my earlier bushwhack along Dill Falls. Reaching the crest of the ridge was a relief, but we immediately plunged down the other side. Eventually the terrain moderated, and a few minutes later we stumbled out to the road. We found Christy waiting for us there, and we were ready to hit the road.

First though, I wanted to make one more stop. We had never visited the waterfalls along the North Fork of the French Broad River. These are on the property of the Living Waters Ministry, but they generously allow public access. You never know when something like that might change though, so we decided to check it out while we were in the area. We pulled off the road just beyond the ministry buildings, and found a trail down to the river. This led us to a double waterfall at Mill Shoals. The river drops over one ledge, while a large side stream enters the river over another. This was a really neat spot, but I wasn’t quite satisfied. We hiked downstream from there, passing some lovely slides and cascades. A few minutes later, we arrived at the top of Bird Rock Falls. Bird Rock Falls isn’t very big, but there’s a lot of water, and the falls are enhanced by an incredible cliff on the far side of the river. This is a cool place, and I spent a bit of time here enjoying the scenery and taking photos. It’s hard to believe a spot this fascinating can be right next to a major road, but then you’d never know it. The roar of the river easily drowns out any traffic noise.

We headed back to the car from there, and began the long journey home. It was a great trip, as we revisited a familiar area, but explored completely new places. The Davidson River area is one of Christy’s favorite places, so we’ll definitely be back!

*Stacy’s name was changed due to the simple fact that I no longer remember what her real name was.

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