IF I ONLY HAD A BRAIN

A couple of weeks ago Christy and I went backpacking together for the first time since our trip to Peru a year earlier. Christy has suffered through a long rehab following shoulder surgery last December, and that had made backpacking impractical. But with our big summer trip to Wyoming coming up, we figured we’d better make sure she could handle it.

Originally I planned out a moderately ambitious route in the South Mills River area of the Pisgah National Forest. We’d start at Wolf Ford and follow the South Mills River downstream. After a couple of miles we’d climb away from the river, up to Buckhorn Gap. We would then follow a ridge across Clawhammer Mountain and Black Mountain, before returning to the river downstream from the old Cantrell Creek Lodge. On the second day, we’d hike upstream along the river to return to the trailhead. I was looking forward to this loop, mainly because I’d never hiked the South Mills River Trail between Cantrell Creek Lodge and High Falls. I was excited about exploring a long stretch of remote river for the first time. I was also looking forward to checking out the views from Clawhammer Mountain.

We drove up from Charlotte on Saturday morning. The ride was smooth, and we were surprised to see some vacant campsites along Wolf Ford Road. They weren’t all vacant though, as there was a large group of boyscouts at the last site at road’s end. We got a late start that morning, and decided to have any early lunch there at the trailhead. Boone was itching to hit the trail, but we were able to keep him more or less confined to the parking area and away from the boy scouts while we ate.

We hiked downstream, passing nice swimming holes before reaching an old concrete bridge. There are two routes beyond here. The more adventurous is a rugged footpath that follows the river beyond High Falls. The more civilized route is a horse trail and old roadbed that joins with the footpath downstream from the falls. We took the road, as I planned to take the footpath past the falls on our return.

We climbed gradually away from the river, sweating in the summer heat and humidity. Before long we reached the Buckhorn Gap junction, and a major decision point. Christy wasn’t feeling well, as she was still recovering from being sick. Following the original route would’ve required 8 more miles from that point, with a good bit of it being uphill. Spontaneously I suggested a change in plans. I suggested a different loop that would combine the Squirrel Gap and Cantrell Creek Trails to get us to the old lodge site. This route would mean missing out on Clawhammer Mountain, but at least we’d still be able to hike the river on Sunday.

Christy was all for shaving a couple of miles off the hike. We continued on the old road, passing a nice campsite before descending towards the river. Just before the river we passed the footpath leading to High Falls and upstream to Wolf Ford. Back at the river we found several campsites, and stopped for a break. While we were there we encountered a pair of dayhikers heading upstream. Earlier we’d seen two guys on horseback, and later we encountered a handful of mountain bikers. Still, it seemed like a pretty quiet area for a mid-summer weekend. In fact, we didn’t see anybody at all on Sunday.

We crossed a footbridge over the river and turned left to climb away from it on the Squirrel Gap Trail. A steep but short climb ensued. Beyond, we followed Gladys Branch upstream at a more gradual grade. Most of this trail involved gentle climbs and descents, and while there weren’t any views, the woods were pleasant. In particular, the forest was quite lovely on the descent to Cantrell Creek.

We spotted a nice campsite where we first met Cantrell Creek, and briefly considered stopping there. It was almost too nice to pass up, but I was eager to camp along the river. We headed downstream on the Cantrell Creek Trail, rock hopping it several times. We met the South Mills River Trail a bit later, just up from the old lodge site. Christy waited there while I scouted for campsites. I walked down to the old lodge, where only a chimney remains. The rest of the lodge was relocated to The Cradle of Forestry years ago. There are some marginal campsites around the overgrown meadow at the lodge site. The better ones are down by the river, but that area was crowded with people camping. From the lodge, I could see several tents and hear the shouts of children. That wasn’t what I had in mind, so I backtracked and rejoined Christy.

We took the trail back towards Wolf Ford, hopeful that we’d find campsites once we reached the river. This worked out perfectly. In less than 5 minutes we found ourselves looking down on a deserted riverside campsite. We took it without hesitation and settled in. Christy helped me set up camp before I headed out in search of firewood. This proved to be fairly easy, as I found a couple of nice stashes of driftwood along the river.

Later that evening we attempted to swim in a deep, dark pool just downstream. It was well into evening though, and that pool was cold. I only managed to get waist deep before losing my nerve. Plus, that’s when a group of little fish started nuzzling my toes. At that point I was ready to get to work on the campfire!

That evening Christy made us mini pizzas using homemade Nan bread. We had river-chilled wine with our pizzas and enjoyed a nice fire. We finished the evening off with S’mores while watching the fireflies put on a show. Fortunately Boone has outgrown his puppy habit of barking at them!

I slept great that night, soothed by the sound of rushing water just outside the tent.

Sunday morning started with blueberry pancakes. Afterwards, we broke camp and hiked upstream. My guidebook says that there are 9 ford river fords along this stretch of trail. We counted 11, but after the first one it didn’t really matter. We just hiked through the river in our boots, rather than changing shoes over and over again.

Sunday was cloudy, which was a welcome change after Saturday’s sunshine. I hadn’t managed any useful photos on Saturday due to the conditions. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any useful photos on Sunday, either. That’s because my camera battery died Saturday evening. I knew it was low, but wasn’t really worried about it since I had a spare. Unfortunately, the spare turned out to be dead. Christy forgot her camera completely, so the only photos we managed on Sunday were from her IPhone.

We hiked upstream on an old railroad grade, alternating between splashing across the slippery river and sloshing along the muddy trail in wet boots. The river crossings were never more than knee deep, but they could definitely be hazardous in high water. I wouldn’t recommend hiking this trail in the cooler months, when water levels tend to be higher.

We took a break when we reached the confluence of Laurel Branch and the river. Based on the topo map, it looked like there could be a significant waterfall just upstream on Laurel Branch. Christy waited while I waded the river to investigate. After only a few yards I reached the first cascade. There was a fair bit of water in that creek, and the banks were choked with Rhododendron. Still, I was able to walk right up the creek, moving carefully to avoid slippery spots. I climbed several nice cascades, but failed to find a major waterfall. Eventually I reached a point where I would’ve had to crawl upstream through the water to avoid overhanging branches. Everybody has their limits, and this was somewhere beyond mine. No doubt there’s an impressive waterfall just around the next bend!

I returned and we resumed our hike. Before long we reached Copperas Rock, an impressive cliff above the west side of the river. There’s a campsite here, and we stopped for lunch while I attempted some photos with Christy’s phone.

That afternoon we were treated to a brief drizzle, which wasn’t the least bit unpleasant. From Copperas Rock, it didn’t take long to return to the Squirrel Gap Trail junction that we’d passed about 24 hours earlier. Along the way I missed the chance to explore Gladys Branch, which reportedly has a minor waterfall. We also missed the side trip up to a small waterfall on Billy Branch later that afternoon. At least we found our way to High Falls, which is all of 15’ tall. The name doesn’t seem to make much sense, but I have a theory about it. Perhaps the name High Falls doesn’t refer to the height of the waterfall. Instead, maybe the person who named it was high. My theory may be wrong, but it’s at least plausible.

Although it is small, High Falls is quite scenic. Photographic conditions were perfect, which was predictable since I didn’t have a functioning camera. I couldn’t do much with the IPhone, and we continued on after a short break. The trail upstream from the falls was exciting in places, with some tricky footing and one final river ford. The hiking was more difficult than the old road, but it was also more fun and much more scenic. Still, it was a relief when we reached the old road just upstream from the concrete bridge. We enjoyed an easy walk back from here, but skipped out on taking a post-hike swim. At that point, Christy and I were both ready for Mexican food in Pisgah Forest, while Boone was looking forward to napping in the back seat of my car.

The next week I worked in Kansas for the first time. My assignment was in Wichita, which wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared, although the water there was nasty. I found it to be like drinking out of a public swimming pool. The only other problem was the heat. High temperatures were over 100 degrees most of the week, topping out at 106 on Thursday afternoon. Believe it or not, I decided to go for a run at a local park that evening after work. I’m not sure why – I think it was just a bizarre curiosity about what would happen. Could I survive it?

The temperature was down to 101 by the time I started. There was a surprisingly strong wind that felt like standing in front of an open furnace door. The park was pretty nice actually, and luckily my route finished with a shady mile along a creek. It turns out there are some trees in Kansas – in fact, the Cottonwoods in this park were delightful.

The run wasn’t really that awful. The humidity was relatively low – honestly, running in Charlotte in 90+ degree weather at 90% humidity is much worse. Still, I would like to thank Toto for leading the way, Dorothy for providing cold water at the two mile mark, and the flying monkeys for hauling me back to the hotel afterwards!

Back to The Pisgah Ranger District

Back to North Carolina

Back to Hiking and Backpacking Trip Reports

Home

Please remember to Leave No Trace!