Dan's Springtime Sheltowee Shuffle: Day 4 - Bumbling Along the Cumberland to Dog Slaughter Creek

Day 4, April 3rd - 13 miles

I woke up and the lake was choked with fog. The dense white obscured neighboring peninsulas from view, as if the lake could extend forever under the cover of the fog. I remembered that since it was now friday, tomorrow I'd be meeting up with Jack at cumberland falls to get some resupply items. I had run out of butane, needed some fresh clothes, and honestly just missed getting to talk to someone at length. Cumberland Falls was 16 miles south, and decided I would take it a lil slower today and camp out at the nexus of Dog Slaughter Creek and the Cumberland River, about 3 miles downstream of Kentucky's Niagara.
With only 13 miles to tackle on Friday, I didnt really get the gat til 9 or 10. I continued on the trail skirting the bottom left half of Laurel Lake, past the lake's boat ramp and onto KY 1193, on which I crossed the Laurel Dam, passed into Whitley county, and observed the obsidian-looking crater-like surface of some body of water dammed dry. A hydroelectric power station stood at the bottom of the dam, and the Laurel River flowed away from it.

my elongated silhouette falling down on the dam

goodbye, laurel lake and laurel couny

 onto see what whitley county holds for me.

 The morning fog had been replaced with wide open cerulean sky, rising sun already making me sweat during the shadeless roadwalk. Soon enough I saw the last of the blemishless reflection of the blue sky in laurel lake's crystalline waters, and was pushed once more into dense woods, carving my way towards the rivers. The landscape became more rush and green as I dropped down into the valley. Bewilderment struck when I came upon a small bluff and couldn't figure out which way the trail wound around it. But I looked down and to the left, and found myself in the shade of a towering rock structure again, blaze tacked to a tree reaching up alongside it.

 Whitley County woods

The elevation dropped some more and soon the din of a rushing river crept into the background of my hearing. I crossed whitman branch of the laurel river and found myself in a valley shaded by rock faces towering above. The path turned wide and grassy as I followed the Laurel River to  the Mouth of Laurel Boat ramp, where it met the cumberland river. There were several cars parked on the shoulder, quarantine or not it i guess it was a good day for fishing. Soon I dropped off on the right side of the road back onto trail, beginning my long and at times harrowing crawl along the banks in the Cumberland River Valley. 

 cute fish poster at the mouth of laurel boat ramp

 boulder hopping across whitman branch

no shade in the shadow of the cross - sufjan stevens

A couple miles into my chase of Cumberland River two hikers came up past me. They warned me about how flooded the path would be since it was Moist Time and the trail followed cliffsides right next to the river. They showed me a picture of where they decided to turn back--the trail continued on the other side of murky water, right up next to a bluff so there was no way to bushwhack up around it. There was a flood route that took you further up in elevation on forest roads avoiding the mess, but it started back at the boat ramp.
Being the stubborn fuck i am i bumbled past them with a smile on my face, towards whatever the swollen cumberland had to throw at me. There had already been parts of the trail where river water obscured it and I had to eke a path out up a bit on the slope full of huge rocks and thorns. This problem got worse as I went on, slowing me down a lot.

yeah aight dude

rock structures with seasonal waterfalls and cliffsides on the bank that forced me to wade through sediment-filled cumberland river water. a beautiful but at times treacherous section of trail.

 trees lining the bank half-submerged in water everywhere. someone left a pack of water bottles on this beach campsite on the river?

 at one point I had to squeeze through a crevice in a rock structure i ended up in to pass another submerged part of the trail. The water was again up against a rock face but this time i was tired of taking my shoes off and made out a path going up in the woods behind the rock face. but behind it i only found a tight gap with smaller boulders balanced inside of it and i had to separate from my pack and use some dilligent footwork to get through, now covered in sand. it kinda sucked but if the water weren't so high on the cumberland the falls and creeks wouldn't have been so girthy, and I liked seeing them in full force this april. 

and then I got to bark camp creek. i was hiking with the guidance of Scot "Taba" Ward's "Thru Hiker's Manual" for the sheltowee trace, which described the boulder-hop creek crossing as "challenging". this was not a good word to describe it. harrowing or ass-clenching are more apt descriptors. water rushed in between huge slippery boulders in the creek, hopping them was the only way to make it across. there was a derelict half-torn-down bridge starting on the north end that just kind of watched you mockingly as you tried to identify the path that wouldn't have you slipping and carried into the current. In trying to lower myself in the space between two boulders onto another with unsure footwork, I snapped the chest strap off of jack's pack and nearly lost my bear spray and manual to the creek.

 bark camp creek and the upstream cascades wre rly pretty tho

eventually i got to the other side and noticed a sign designating this part of the trail as a "prescribed burn area" which i guess means it was under some kind of rehabilitation. The path past bark camp creek along the cumberland was full of bramble and thorns and flies. I passed a couple people making their way down the banks, but not as many as i wouldve expected with the trail's proximity to cumberland falls. I crossed some more creeks and countless small streams emptying into the cumberland river, before making it to the nexus of dog slaughter creek and the cumberland around 6 pm. 

Having gone kinda hard over the past 3 days, i decided to make camp early and spend the evening chilling fried as fuck in the cumberland river valley. i walked closer to the wooden bridge over the creek i noticed what looked like white ribbon strung across it. i got up to it and it was a length of toilet paper under which a note was weighted down by two rocks. it read along the lines of "tried to look for yall, got worried, heading back to the car, 4 pm.". this was definitely weird and i had no way of knowing if whoever left the note had found who they were looking for. the note could have also been there for multiple days; it hadn't rained since wednesday morning. it was sobering because i was out here alone in a beautiful, desolate place and it could have been me getting lost in the woods. but i stepped over the note under the rocks and set up camp by the southern bank of the creek, in a flat spot with barely enough room for my tent, determined not to let my vibes turn negative due to the note.

After another dinner of bagged flaked tuna i climbed up onto a big boulder, the top still warmed by a slowly lowering sun. i looked down at the cascades on the creek, water making its way to the cumberland. i skipped over to the bridge on the sheltowee trail over the creek, staring at the difference in color where the two courses of water met. the afternoon was warm, i felt like the world was giving me a big hug as the dying sun kissed only the heads of the trees in the Daniel Boone National Forest. 

 the gorge and blues of a creek electrified by the sunset

trailside waterfalls dropping from the tops of rock faces were everywhere. it was fun when the trail took u right under their refreshing mist.

I felt really lucky have the opportunity to set my tent up in so many different landscapes over the past couple of days--I'd slept behind a church in a rural neighborhood, in the solitude of deep laurel county woods, on a prime piece of lakeside real estate, and now i was laying my head to rest again under the stars next to the mighty cumberland river.