PURE SCREAMING
HELL
What
I remember the most about that day was the weather. It was perfect. Sunny,
but not too hot, even for August. In
fact, the usual summer haze was taking the day off. Why do the biggest disasters always occur when it’s nice out?
A
large group of us had gone with Joel on a dayhike to a new destination in
northeast Tennessee. It was a long
drive, but we didn’t mind. The thrill
of new territory to explore more than made up for it. We headed up through Mountain City, Tennessee, and followed a
long, winding dirt road to the top of Holston Mountain. There is a fire tower at the top, and it
promised a great view on such a nice day.
Unfortunately, the tower is surrounded by a chain link fence and razor
wire. I probably should have seen this
as a bad omen.
We
found the beginning of the Holston Mountain Trail, before it disappeared
through a tunnel of dense vegetation.
Our crowd was an experienced group of bushwhackers, and we didn’t
hesitate. We plunged into the jungle,
heading out along the ridge of Holston Mountain. Before long, we began a steep descent down to a gap.
We
reached the gap before the mild grumbling turned hostile. The undergrowth crowded the trail, and was
over head high. There was no light at
the end of this tunnel. This was an
out-and-back hike, and starting on the “and back” portion of it started to seem
like a good idea. By the time we
reached the gap, Joel had a full-blown mutiny on his hands.
What
started out as an orderly retreat turned into a rout once we discovered what we
had been hiking through. It was
stinging nettle, and it crowded both sides of the “trail”, from ankle-high to
over our heads. We were all dressed in
shorts and t-shirts, and as we hiked, the nettles tormented us with dozens of
microscopic cuts on every bit of exposed flesh. The torture didn’t really start until we began climbing back up
the hill. The climb combined with the
warm summer air, and soon we were perspiring.
Once the sweat ran into those dozens of cuts, it hurt like fire. That ¼ mile hike out was an eternity of
pain. Finally we all burst out of the
jungle, screaming and hollering and dancing and scratching like madmen. If anyone had been there to see it, they’d
have sworn there had been a mass-escape from the nearest mental facility.
As
it was, a few of us probably would’ve been eligible for admittance. I discovered that I’m allergic to stinging
nettle, as I broke out in this amazing rash that extended from my face to my
ankles. Someone else got sick. The rest of the group searched for a rope so
they could hang Joel. All that, and it
wasn’t even lunch yet.
We
beat a hasty retreat from Holston Mountain that afternoon, settling for a short
hike on the Appalachian Trail on Iron Mountain instead. The rest of the evening was better, except
for the long drive home after a disappointing day. Also, I seem to recall someone getting a speeding ticket. Sometimes you just can’t win.
So,
after 7 or 8 years, time must have dulled my memory of that day. That’s the only rational explanation I can
think of for why I decided to go back.
I was working in Mountain City on Thursday and Friday, and needed to go
up Wednesday so I could get an early start.
Since I was going up on Wednesday, I figured I might as well do a hike
while I had the chance. For some
reason, Holston Mountain came to mind.
Well, I was pretty sure the stinging nettle wouldn’t be out in May.
Interstate
26 is now complete from Asheville to Johnson City, so I decided to go that way
and check it out. For what it’s worth,
the new highway makes the drive to some areas in the Bald Mountains north of
Asheville a little quicker. However,
it’s certainly not the fastest way to reach the trailheads near Elizabethton
and Watauga Lake. It took me over 3
hours to get to Elizabethton. From
there I followed highway 91 towards Shady Valley. Finally I turned on Panhandle Road, which starts out paved, then
turns to gravel, only to be paved again before finally turning back to
gravel. At the top of the ridge, I
reached a fork, with the main road curving back to the left. The right fork is gated, but leads to the
firetower on top of Holston Mountain. I
parked near the gate, and began my hike at 11:30 after a 4-hour drive from
Charlotte.
An
easy climb up the road brought me to the trailhead after a mile. The trailhead is located in the last
switchback below the firetower, which is not open to the public. The trailhead is marked with a sign, and the
entire path is marked with blue blazes.
More importantly, I noticed that the trail follows a very open ridge
through a hardwood forest. There was no
undergrowth, except for a few million Mayapples.
I
headed down that first hill, trying to avoid trampling the many Red Trillium
blooming along the trail. Although free
of brush, the trail still appears to be lightly traveled. The exception to this must be during hunting
season. Judging from the number of
shotgun shells seen along the trail, I’d say that late fall joins late summer
as ideal times to avoid this trail.
From
the first gap, the trail crosses three or four minor knobs before descending
steeply to Flint Mill Gap. At the gap,
the Holston Mountain trail turns right, while an old logging road turns left. Straight ahead is the Flint Mill Trail,
which is the route I had chosen to follow.
I
hiked out past a wildlife clearing, and dropped down to pass a small campsite
and cross a muddy stream just downhill from a series of springs. This area was thick with Painted Trillium,
as well as the first rhododendron I’d seen on the hike. While I was hiking by, I spooked two deer
that were visiting the springs for a mid-day Siesta.
Beyond
the stream, I followed a dry spur ridge covered in dense pine. After only a few minutes, I reached my
destination. Flint Rock is a high cliff
looking out over Holston Lake. The view
was nice, but would’ve been much better on a less hazy day. I had a late lunch here, and tried to enjoy
the sun, but I could never get comfortable.
The end of the cliff is blocked with a nearly vertical rock that doesn’t
provide many seating options.
I
headed back after lunch, and finished my 6-mile hike around 3pm. Since it was still early, and I would be
spending the night in Boone, I decided to make one more stop before calling it
a day. I returned to highway 91, and
drove up through Shady Valley, which is ironically quite sunny, thanks to the
many farms there. Beyond the Shady
Valley community, I reentered the National Forest and enjoyed a scenic drive
along Beaverdam Creek. I had almost
reached the Virginia border when I arrived at Backbone Rock.
Backbone
Rock is a 100’ tall ridge of sandstone that juts out into the Beaverdam Creek
valley. The creek curves sharply around
it in a scenic, if brief, gorge.
Highway 91, which follows an old railroad grade, cuts through the rock
in what is considered the shortest tunnel in the world. Where the road cuts through, the rock is
only about 10 thick.
I
parked and paid the $2 fee. From the
parking area, I followed a steep path up a rock staircase to the top of the rock. From the top, the trail continues ahead up
the mountain a mile or two to join the Appalachian Trail not far from
Damascus. I didn’t have that much time,
so I turned the other direction to cross Backbone Rock. Backbone Rock is an official recreation
area, meaning that the $2 parking fees go towards annoying “improvements” such
as railings and chain link fences. I
could have almost understood the fences, if their placement had made any sense. After all, the rock is completely vertical,
and is 100’ high. But one of the fences
was in the absolute center of the rock.
I had no idea which side of the fence the trail was supposed to go
on. At the far end, the rock ends at a
point, with Beaverdam Creek racing around three sides far below. There weren’t any fences there at all. What was there was a bizarre tree, growing
horizontally out of bare rock, before making a 90-degree turn to extend
upwards. I’m not talking about some
little sapling, either. This tree was a
good 2 feet in diameter.
Despite
the fences, this was a neat vantage point.
The top of the rock was bare, to the point that it was almost like
walking on pavement. Unfortunately,
once I reached the far side, there was little more to do but head down. I took a different trail down, which ends at
a picnic area on the far side of the road.
I explored the creek briefly, before walking back through the tunnel to
my car.
All
of that took 15 minutes. I had paid $2
for 15 minutes? That works out to be
more expensive than the average movie.
I decided to extend my visit with a hike on another short trail.
I
crossed the highway bridge over the creek and began the trail to Backbone
Falls. It climbs over a ridge, before
dropping into a valley. I rock hopped
the stream, and circled around to a viewpoint of the falls. I hadn’t expected much, as the stream is
small. I was pleasantly surprised. The stream spills over a fairly significant
cliff, and is squeezed through a narrow flume by the rock walls. At the bottom, the stream races downhill below
high rocky bluffs.
I
hiked to the end of the trail, and followed the shoulder of highway 91 back to
my car. From there, I had one more
decision to make. Trail Days was going
on in Damascus, only a few miles away.
It was getting late though, and I still had to drive all the way back to
Boone. I decided to skip Trail Days,
and began the tedious drive over the mountain to Mountain City.
I’d
recommend the Holston Mountain Trail if you’re in the area, and are looking for
some solitude. Just don’t go in the
summer, or early fall, or during hunting season. Backbone Rock is interesting, though it certainly wouldn’t make
the focal point of a trip. It might be
worth a visit if you’re passing through the area and have the urge to burn a
couple of dollars.
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