Some Memorable Hikes
So many trails in the Smokies are unique in their own special way, each offering something different in terms of scenery, flora, fauna, mountain peaks, valleys, waterfalls, streams, and solitude. The following detailed hikes are some of my most memorable thus far.
Gregory Bald (June 30, 2008)
It is pretty simple, when mid June arrives, there is no other place I want to be. Those that have hiked to the unique bald at this time of year understand why it is so special. Without a doubt, it is my favorite destination in the park. It affords hikers a 360 degree panorama of the Smokies and beyond. To the north lies Cades Cove, with its olive green fields and long line of automobiles, forming a processional of ants on the loop road. To the south, Fontana Lake twists and turns around the mountain bases like a blue serpent. In all directions the mountain ridges fold amongst each other in varying hues of green and blue until they collide with the white of the clouds and blues of the sky in the distant horizon. As for the bald itself, imagine ten football fields alternating between grasses waving in the wind, berry bushes, and flame azaleas dotting the surface in colors of orange, yellow, red, pink, and white. After a long hike, maybe you'll be lucky enough to have a friendly deer strut out of the woods and lick the salt off your face while you rest and soak in the surroundings. There is no place like it in the world, and for any wildflower enthusiast or avid hiker who has yet to venture to Gregory Bald, I suggest you add it to your list of things to do.
My first trip to the bald on July 24, 2002 was quite uneventful. My father, uncle, and I made a detour to the bald early in a three day backpacking trek from Cades Cove to Clingmans Dome. We weren't expecting to see anything in bloom, but were looking forward to the great views we read about in our hiking guides. It wasn't meant to be. When we started that day up Gregory Ridge Trail, the temperature in our van read in the upper 90's, it was humid, and when we finally reached the summit, clouds obscured our views. Aside from the fact that we were whooped from the hike up, it was a bit demoralizing to get there and have nothing to reward us. As was the story for much of our three day venture, but I think in the end, it was still a fond experience.
Since then, I made it a goal of mine to revisit several notable points along the AT in which we expected great views but came away with nothing, places like Gregory Bald, Spence Field, Rocky Top, and Silers Bald. In late June of 2006, I made good on a sunny day to hike west to Silers Bald from Clingmans Dome and back. And in early July of 2007, I led my family up Lead Cove Trail to Spence Field and Thunderhead Mtn. to clear skies, breathtaking vistas, and blooming rosebay rhododendron. Now there was just one more place to check off the list.
It was the end of June in 2008, and my father and I were the only two in our family able to get away to the Smokies for a week. Scaling Gregory Bald was at the top of our list. We wanted to catch it on a clear day for obvious reasons, but worried that we were going to be too late for the amazing display of flame azalea which usually peaks the week prior. We had an early morning start, and as we drove around Cades Cove to reach our destination, dark clouds filled the sky blocking out the sun and smothering the surrounding ridges. I could just see us reaching the bald only to be clouded in...again. We ascended the Gregory Bald Trail this time, a very decent hike it was, and everytime we passed somebody coming down we asked about the conditions at the bald. At first, the outlook was bleak. People said it was cloudy and that one couldn't see anything. Some people who camped overnight at Sheep Pen Gap were wet and hadn't bothered to go to the bald before they left. I was getting nervous, not only about the views, but also about the blooms. When we reached a switchback at Panther Gap, putting us about a mile away, we stumbled across a nice group of elderly folks making their descent. Of course I had to ask about the bald, expecting the worst. Much to our amazement, they said that the clouds had broken, that the views were tremendous, and even though a lot of the blooms were past peak and weather-beaten, several were still blooming and beautiful. Finally, some good news I thought.
As soon as we reached the campsite at Sheep Pen Gap, I knew we were on the home stretch. At this point my heart was racing in anticipation, and every couple hundred feet, blooming azalea bushes that were protected in the woods were becoming more abundant, serving as teasers to what lay ahead. I knew I had reached the bald when I looked to my right through a break in the trees and saw a bright orange wall. What an amazing sight and what a relief! You couldn't whipe the smile off my face as I circled around all the flowering bushes on my way to the summit. Then talk about your "Sound of Music" moment. As I climbed up the southern face through the grasses I was still nervous about the views I was denied nearly six years prior. Slowly but surely, my eyes gazed over the bald to see ridgetops and eventually the long expanse of Cades Cove down below. "The hills were alive"...360 degrees of nature at its finest and in vibrant color. It made for a memorable afternoon as we had the entire bald to ourselves. How ironic that as soon as we left, rain clouds rolled in, covering the bald and leaving us soaking wet for the descent. It didn't matter, because the day was already ours.
Click Here to see some photo favorites from the June 2008 hike to Gregory Bald.
My first trip to the bald on July 24, 2002 was quite uneventful. My father, uncle, and I made a detour to the bald early in a three day backpacking trek from Cades Cove to Clingmans Dome. We weren't expecting to see anything in bloom, but were looking forward to the great views we read about in our hiking guides. It wasn't meant to be. When we started that day up Gregory Ridge Trail, the temperature in our van read in the upper 90's, it was humid, and when we finally reached the summit, clouds obscured our views. Aside from the fact that we were whooped from the hike up, it was a bit demoralizing to get there and have nothing to reward us. As was the story for much of our three day venture, but I think in the end, it was still a fond experience.
Since then, I made it a goal of mine to revisit several notable points along the AT in which we expected great views but came away with nothing, places like Gregory Bald, Spence Field, Rocky Top, and Silers Bald. In late June of 2006, I made good on a sunny day to hike west to Silers Bald from Clingmans Dome and back. And in early July of 2007, I led my family up Lead Cove Trail to Spence Field and Thunderhead Mtn. to clear skies, breathtaking vistas, and blooming rosebay rhododendron. Now there was just one more place to check off the list.
It was the end of June in 2008, and my father and I were the only two in our family able to get away to the Smokies for a week. Scaling Gregory Bald was at the top of our list. We wanted to catch it on a clear day for obvious reasons, but worried that we were going to be too late for the amazing display of flame azalea which usually peaks the week prior. We had an early morning start, and as we drove around Cades Cove to reach our destination, dark clouds filled the sky blocking out the sun and smothering the surrounding ridges. I could just see us reaching the bald only to be clouded in...again. We ascended the Gregory Bald Trail this time, a very decent hike it was, and everytime we passed somebody coming down we asked about the conditions at the bald. At first, the outlook was bleak. People said it was cloudy and that one couldn't see anything. Some people who camped overnight at Sheep Pen Gap were wet and hadn't bothered to go to the bald before they left. I was getting nervous, not only about the views, but also about the blooms. When we reached a switchback at Panther Gap, putting us about a mile away, we stumbled across a nice group of elderly folks making their descent. Of course I had to ask about the bald, expecting the worst. Much to our amazement, they said that the clouds had broken, that the views were tremendous, and even though a lot of the blooms were past peak and weather-beaten, several were still blooming and beautiful. Finally, some good news I thought.
As soon as we reached the campsite at Sheep Pen Gap, I knew we were on the home stretch. At this point my heart was racing in anticipation, and every couple hundred feet, blooming azalea bushes that were protected in the woods were becoming more abundant, serving as teasers to what lay ahead. I knew I had reached the bald when I looked to my right through a break in the trees and saw a bright orange wall. What an amazing sight and what a relief! You couldn't whipe the smile off my face as I circled around all the flowering bushes on my way to the summit. Then talk about your "Sound of Music" moment. As I climbed up the southern face through the grasses I was still nervous about the views I was denied nearly six years prior. Slowly but surely, my eyes gazed over the bald to see ridgetops and eventually the long expanse of Cades Cove down below. "The hills were alive"...360 degrees of nature at its finest and in vibrant color. It made for a memorable afternoon as we had the entire bald to ourselves. How ironic that as soon as we left, rain clouds rolled in, covering the bald and leaving us soaking wet for the descent. It didn't matter, because the day was already ours.
Click Here to see some photo favorites from the June 2008 hike to Gregory Bald.
Spence Field (July 25, 2002)
Here we were on the second day of our outing along the AT and nothing seemed to be going right. It was hot, humid, and cloudy ever since we began our backpacking venture. The side trip to Gregory Bald the day prior was a downer, the ascent up Mollies Ridge was long and exhausting, and the fact that the spring below the shelter was all but dried up was demoralizing. Today we were faced with on and off rain, and again, views were non existent. I am sure it crossed everyone's mind to just scrap this trip before it continued to get worse and take the first trail we reached back down to Cades Cove. But those feelings changed when we arrived at Spence Field.
It was so neat to leave the dense woods into this grassy meadow covered in fog and the occasional serviceberry tree. I had never seen anything like it in all my years of coming to the Smokies. On top of that, I had never been on a trail east of Cades Cove and west of Elkmont, so I had no idea what the terrain was like. When you looked up or ahead, all you saw was the white and gray of the clouds that shot across the ridgeline. As we reached a pocket of open space in the field, a break in the clouds began to form, and the slopes of nearby mountain peaks began to appear. The fog was lifting in places directly ahead of us and then the mountainside of a prominent peak that met with the edge of Spence Field had emerged. There it was, Thunderhead Mountain, a dark and luminous summit that dominated the skyline and towered over the meadow in which we had now stopped for a break. It was one of the more impressive moments I've ever experienced in the park to have something surprise and amaze me so unexpectedly. We had enough time to grab some lunch at the Spence Field Shelter and take some photos where the bald met the base of Thunderhead before the dreary clouds rolled back in. The rest of the day went much like the first, but that little show nature had put on was all the motivation I needed.
It was so neat to leave the dense woods into this grassy meadow covered in fog and the occasional serviceberry tree. I had never seen anything like it in all my years of coming to the Smokies. On top of that, I had never been on a trail east of Cades Cove and west of Elkmont, so I had no idea what the terrain was like. When you looked up or ahead, all you saw was the white and gray of the clouds that shot across the ridgeline. As we reached a pocket of open space in the field, a break in the clouds began to form, and the slopes of nearby mountain peaks began to appear. The fog was lifting in places directly ahead of us and then the mountainside of a prominent peak that met with the edge of Spence Field had emerged. There it was, Thunderhead Mountain, a dark and luminous summit that dominated the skyline and towered over the meadow in which we had now stopped for a break. It was one of the more impressive moments I've ever experienced in the park to have something surprise and amaze me so unexpectedly. We had enough time to grab some lunch at the Spence Field Shelter and take some photos where the bald met the base of Thunderhead before the dreary clouds rolled back in. The rest of the day went much like the first, but that little show nature had put on was all the motivation I needed.
AT - Peck's Corner to Cosby (July 7, 2005)
When my brothers and I each graduated from high school, it was tradition to go on some sort of road trip with our father. My two older brothers had chosen to go out West across the plains, through the desert, over the Rockies, and back for their respective trips. Mine would be similar, except I was interested in heading South first to do some more backpacking along the AT in the Smokies. This time we would begin from Newfound Gap and take two days to reach Cosby. I already had a bad luck streak going with this sort of thing, and well, nothing was going to change this time. Hurricane Cindy had just made landfall and Hurricane Dennis was on the way, providing ample rainfall for the week. I don't recall ever seeing so much rainfall in Gatlinburg and the rivers raging so intensely in the park.
It was a good thing we brought our rain gear because that first day from Newfound Gap to Peck's Corner was spent getting soaked and clouded in. Views from Charlies Bunion? Nope. After that point, the trail was new to me for I had never been past the bunion. Places like The Sawteeth and Laurel Top? I have no recollection of what those areas were like, what views should have been seen, just because of all the silly weather. I was now 0 for 4 in my days backpacking the AT.
The fun didn't stop there. We had just left the AT on Hughes Ridge Trail to descend 0.4 of a mile to the Peck's Corner Shelter for the night. Just when I thought things couldn't get any crazier, my father decided to lose his footing on a slippery rock, flip backwards on the edge of the trail, then proceed to roll 20 feet downhill through a bunch of ferns before he was halted by sapplings. All I remember is standing there wide-eyed, dumbfounded by what had happened, eventually throwing my pack off and offering assistance. Fortunately he was alright, nothing bruised or broken but his pride at that point. We get a good laugh out of it now, but good thing it was a gentle slope and not some cliff. That evening the rain had subsided, and we were able to enjoy some chicken noodle soup before calling it a night.
The next morning, I awoke to the sounds of my father preparing breakfast and tending to his pack. But something was different this time. THERE WAS SUNLIGHT!!! The sun had just risen over the ridge that obscures the view from the shelter's front porch, illuminating the woods in golden rays. It was an inspirational sight to say the least, but after all we had been through in our AT ventures, it was a sign of good things to come. We got started early and when we scaled Eagle Rocks, we could see the clouds pulling away in the distance with blue skies to follow. The views we were afforded from there onward to Cosby were sensational and thoroughly enjoyed.
It was a good thing we brought our rain gear because that first day from Newfound Gap to Peck's Corner was spent getting soaked and clouded in. Views from Charlies Bunion? Nope. After that point, the trail was new to me for I had never been past the bunion. Places like The Sawteeth and Laurel Top? I have no recollection of what those areas were like, what views should have been seen, just because of all the silly weather. I was now 0 for 4 in my days backpacking the AT.
The fun didn't stop there. We had just left the AT on Hughes Ridge Trail to descend 0.4 of a mile to the Peck's Corner Shelter for the night. Just when I thought things couldn't get any crazier, my father decided to lose his footing on a slippery rock, flip backwards on the edge of the trail, then proceed to roll 20 feet downhill through a bunch of ferns before he was halted by sapplings. All I remember is standing there wide-eyed, dumbfounded by what had happened, eventually throwing my pack off and offering assistance. Fortunately he was alright, nothing bruised or broken but his pride at that point. We get a good laugh out of it now, but good thing it was a gentle slope and not some cliff. That evening the rain had subsided, and we were able to enjoy some chicken noodle soup before calling it a night.
The next morning, I awoke to the sounds of my father preparing breakfast and tending to his pack. But something was different this time. THERE WAS SUNLIGHT!!! The sun had just risen over the ridge that obscures the view from the shelter's front porch, illuminating the woods in golden rays. It was an inspirational sight to say the least, but after all we had been through in our AT ventures, it was a sign of good things to come. We got started early and when we scaled Eagle Rocks, we could see the clouds pulling away in the distance with blue skies to follow. The views we were afforded from there onward to Cosby were sensational and thoroughly enjoyed.
Rich Mountain (October 30, 2009)
If you ever want to see the Smokies' fall color explosion, particularly in the lower elevations, I would recommend visiting in the last week of October. The drive from Gatlinburg along the Little River and Laurel Creek Roads are delightful. Now I understand the leaf watchers that clog the highways can be frustrating for some, especially if you're going to places like Cades Cove. But the good thing about a hike near the cove is that one doesn't have to travel far from the road to find solitude and still enjoy the beauty of the park in autumn.
I had decided to take my uncle on a loop hike up and around Rich Mountain. We parked at the loop road entrance, and despite our early start, traffic was already filing through. But fortunately for us, all the sounds of civilization dissipated only a few tenths of a mile in. We had the entire day to enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of nature without the distractions of everyday life or the frustrations of a long line of auto-tour traffic. From top to bottom, the mountain was draped in a blanket of hues of gold, red, orange, yellow, green, and brown. Occasionally we would reach these areas where both the foliage of the trees and freshly fallen leaves on the forest floor were yellow and gold. Already naturally bright, the addition of sunlight enhanced the forest's illumination. Aside from the obvious fall color display, there were other elements that made the hike memorable. Wildflowers were still blooming such as Asters and Heal All. There were plenty of creek crossings on either side of the mountain, and the flowing Crooked Arm Cascade was a welcome sight. Along the ridgeline of Rich Mountain, one is afforded great views of Cades Cove to the south and outside of the park toward Townsend to the north. Hundreds of butterflies, moths, grasshoppers, and dragonflies constantly crossed our path as they bounced across crunchy, fallen leaves and rode the winds that blew up the northern slopes. And the smells of the autumn woods were sensational! The aromas of cinnamon, apples, maple brown sugar, and spruces all mixed into one came to mind. The closest thing I've found to capturing that kind of smell would be the Yankee Candle "Christmas Sage," so if you see it in a candle store, check it out.
Civilization didn't return until we came out of the woods where the Rich Mountain Loop Trail meets the John Oliver Cabin. After another mile the loop hike ended at the parking lot from which we began. We could've avoided the loop road traffic, but I was intent on exploring Rich Mountain Road and seeing the famous Cades Cove overlook. I wasn't disappointed. Seeing the Methodist Church in the distance and the colors draped across the cove and surrounding slopes in person was much more satisfying than what any photograph could capture. If you're ever looking for a satisfying autumn hike with a wide array of features, be willing to tolerate the traffic for a short time and immerse yourself in all that Rich Mountain has to offer.
Click Here to view all of my favorite photos from this hike and the drive up and around Rich Mountain.
I had decided to take my uncle on a loop hike up and around Rich Mountain. We parked at the loop road entrance, and despite our early start, traffic was already filing through. But fortunately for us, all the sounds of civilization dissipated only a few tenths of a mile in. We had the entire day to enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of nature without the distractions of everyday life or the frustrations of a long line of auto-tour traffic. From top to bottom, the mountain was draped in a blanket of hues of gold, red, orange, yellow, green, and brown. Occasionally we would reach these areas where both the foliage of the trees and freshly fallen leaves on the forest floor were yellow and gold. Already naturally bright, the addition of sunlight enhanced the forest's illumination. Aside from the obvious fall color display, there were other elements that made the hike memorable. Wildflowers were still blooming such as Asters and Heal All. There were plenty of creek crossings on either side of the mountain, and the flowing Crooked Arm Cascade was a welcome sight. Along the ridgeline of Rich Mountain, one is afforded great views of Cades Cove to the south and outside of the park toward Townsend to the north. Hundreds of butterflies, moths, grasshoppers, and dragonflies constantly crossed our path as they bounced across crunchy, fallen leaves and rode the winds that blew up the northern slopes. And the smells of the autumn woods were sensational! The aromas of cinnamon, apples, maple brown sugar, and spruces all mixed into one came to mind. The closest thing I've found to capturing that kind of smell would be the Yankee Candle "Christmas Sage," so if you see it in a candle store, check it out.
Civilization didn't return until we came out of the woods where the Rich Mountain Loop Trail meets the John Oliver Cabin. After another mile the loop hike ended at the parking lot from which we began. We could've avoided the loop road traffic, but I was intent on exploring Rich Mountain Road and seeing the famous Cades Cove overlook. I wasn't disappointed. Seeing the Methodist Church in the distance and the colors draped across the cove and surrounding slopes in person was much more satisfying than what any photograph could capture. If you're ever looking for a satisfying autumn hike with a wide array of features, be willing to tolerate the traffic for a short time and immerse yourself in all that Rich Mountain has to offer.
Click Here to view all of my favorite photos from this hike and the drive up and around Rich Mountain.