WHAT HAPPENED TO SPRING?
Myron, Dorcas, and the dogs joined me on Sunday for a hike along a new section of the Appalachian Trail along the Elk River. Christy missed the hike, since she is still recovering from a running injury. She didn’t mind though, once she heard the forecast. It had been in the 60’s on Saturday in Charlotte, but forecasters didn’t expect temperatures to make it much beyond freezing in the mountains on Sunday.
I woke up Sunday morning and found it quite pleasant at the house. It had rained overnight, but the skies were rapidly clearing. As I headed towards Morganton, I contemplated a change in plans. If it was going to be nice, maybe we should head to Roan Mountain instead? By the time I reached Morganton, it was noticeably cooler, and a vicious wind threatened to push my car off the road. The skies were still crystal clear though. The views from the meadows on Roan Mountain would be stunning.
I rode with Myron and Dorcas from Morganton and suggested we switch to Roan Mountain. Dorcas shot that idea down, noting the strong winds that would be brutal up on the balds. Reluctantly I agreed, and we stuck with the original plan. We headed for Elk Park, near the NC / Tennessee line below Beech Mountain.
We arrived at the trailhead at the Elk Falls picnic area a little before 10. It was shockingly cold as we organized our gear. The wind was howling, and dark clouds were threatening. One of these days I’ll learn to trust Dorcas’ instincts about these things.
We left Dorcas’ car at the picnic area, hoping we’d find it intact upon our return. This area is notorious for vandalism. Cars are routinely broken into or damaged, especially where the Appalachian Trail crossed highway 19E. The Tennessee Eastman Hiking and Canoeing Club has been advising people against parking there overnight for years. Still, slashed tires and broken windows are common. Occasionally, a car is set on fire. In fact, burning seems to be a popular hobby in the area. Two nearby trail shelters have been burned down in recent years. Today, the only sign of vandals was the trash left throughout the picnic area. There is no trash can there, so people had filled up the grills, the shrubs, and the river itself.
We bundled up and hiked the short trail to the base of Big Falls. At 65’, this is one of the most scenic waterfalls in the state. Here the full force of the river freefalls into an amphitheater. On a warm day, the pool at the base makes an excellent swimming hole. Unfortunately, the scenery was marred by an astounding collection of garbage piled on the rocks below the falls. It looked like every can and bottle in Avery County has washed up there. Last fall, 10" of rain fell on the area in a single day, causing massive flooding. Apparently the floodwaters had cleaned out the valley upstream, but had deposited all of the refuse here. I guess it’ll take another flood of biblical proportions to flush it the rest of the way to Watauga Lake.
It was too cold to linger, so we followed an unofficial trail through dense rhododendron, generally heading downstream. The path forked several times, and we ended up climbing up to a gated dirt road. We followed this back down to the river at a ford. The ford isn’t deep, but we weren’t about to wade the river in 30-degree weather. Instead, we followed a fisherman’s path along the west bank. Here the river meandered gently among open fields. The true nature of the river was disguised, as it thunders through a remote gorge a short distance downstream.
We headed that way, rock hopping Jones Branch. From the creek, we climbed steeply up to a new section of the Appalachian Trail. The trail had recently been rerouted to avoid a section on private property. The trail is a little longer now, but the change seems to be for the better. The route is now more scenic as it follows the river for a mile or more.
We had planned to take a side trip up to search for Jones Branch Falls. On a previous hike we had looked for this cascade, without success. I had heard that an official side trail had been built to it since then. We decided to look for the "unlocatable" waterfall on the way back if time allowed.
We continued north on the AT and descended to the river again. Here we hiked through open fields along the riverbank. Blooming daffodils added to the area’s appeal. The riverbank looked ideal for camping, but it didn’t last long enough. All too soon, we were climbing steadily up and away from the river.
We wandered through the woods and arrived at a small stream and a sign announcing "Mountaineer Falls". Just above was an impressive rock bluff with a tiny stream tumbling over it. After a heavy rain it might be a significant waterfall, but otherwise it’s merely a scenic bluff. Nearby is a blue-blazed trail that climbs away from the main route. I explored it, but came back puzzled. It led to a campsite, but beyond the blazes led deeper into the woods before simply ending. I guess it is an official side trail leading nowhere.
We hiked a few minutes further and stopped for lunch. While we were eating, the first snowflakes began to fall. That confirmed that it really was as cold as it felt. I guess I picked the wrong weekend to forget my long underwear.
Lunch was brief as it was too cold to sit around. We hiked on, passing another campsite and crossing a small stream before climbing steadily to gravel Walnut Mountain Road. We crossed it, with the goal of continuing another mile and a half to a meadow mentioned in the guidebook. The meadow promised a scenic view, and suggested a likely destination for the day’s rambling.
We hiked another hour, but didn’t see a meadow. We did stop at a minor overlook, which provided a nice view of Roan Mountain. It was 2pm, and the snow was coming down harder. We abandoned our quest. The hike had started out as a search for an "unlocatable" waterfall, and ended up as a search for an "unlocatable" meadow.
We double-timed it on the way back, but that didn’t prevent us from being overtaken by another hiker. This fellow was nearly running as he approached us clad in shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes. He paused briefly to explain his journey. He wasn’t an average thru-hiker. He had started at the far northern end of Quebec in July, and was headed for Key West. My first thought was, "gee, why stop there? I hear Patagonia is nice". I decided not to ask though. He’d already had a tough trip, hiking through New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia in the winter. The cold weather wasn’t through with him yet, either. I don’t suppose it was much consolation for him to know that he’d be in southern Florida by the summer.
We wished him luck and followed in his wake. He still had another 12 miles to go before dark, assuming that the Appletree Shelter hadn’t been burned down again recently. In that case, he’d be going farther, as he wasn’t carrying a tent. That was the last we saw of him, but we did pass 2 more hikers back down near the river. We didn’t talk with them, but it appeared that their ambitions were a bit more modest.
We skipped the side trip to Jones Branch Falls as it was getting late. We reached the parking area by 5:30, and were relieved to find the car unmolested. We headed for home, and not a moment too soon. The snow was beginning to stick to the road as we left Elk Park. I’ve seen enough of that for one year.
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