Dan Faces the Big South Fork, TLDR:
60 miles from US-27 trailhead near Whitley City, KY to Bandy Creek Campground in TN from May 30th to June 2nd
Beings spotted: Hordes of red spotted newts, daddy longlegs, abundant flies, skinks, little snake, day hikers, backpackers, families, dogs, snails, centipedes
IAfter being home for a week I decided to restart my hike at about mile 232 of the sheltowee, near Flat Rock Missionary Baptist Church. Over a year ago my first ever backpacking trip had ended here, after I'd explored the hills around London, passed Cumberland Falls, and the many old mines by the Trace.
The trail here wound behind a string of homes by the Church. A family was at play in their backyard. Partitioned by a wall of trees, I don't think they noticed me hiking by. I passed by a homestead crawling with chickens, then made my way through the church's property, then crossed US-27 to begin my hike into the woods proper.
Here the trees were thin and new, and the woods were crisscrossed by ATV tracks, and littered with beercans and tires of yeeyee boys past. I crossed a thin gravel road, a sign civilization was giving way to the wild. And now I was descending to the valley of the Cumberland River, and the trees shot up taller and bore many more rings, and the undergrowth bloomed thicker, cutting at my bare legs. It was clear few hiked this trail.
The wilderness grew more evident--the first rock wall I saw going down to the Cumberland.
I understood this rock shelter as a "gateway" into the wilderness of the Big South Fork--foreshadowing the great walls of rock and waterfalls to be found deeper in the park. Long ago Cherokee American Indians among other tribes lost to history called these natural recesses their homes.
A small, seasonal stream of water trickled from the roof of the shelter. Trees competed with the rock, curving up to reach the sun. Great boulders sat in this pocket of earth, perhaps as tall as 4 or 5 grown men. This stretch of trail featured worn stone steps to help navigate the dips and rising of the earth.
You emerge from the shade of the inaugural rock shelter and walk alongside towering rock walls, weathered with a gap snaking along the base.
Walking beneath walls undulating, as a result of some drawn out process of nature.
Critter watch!
Finally I descended to the first creek of the hike. The stones poking out of the creek, the serenity, the greenery enveloping the stream--it all reminded me of the rocky creeks and streams I'd seen in the Smoky Mountains.
All I could hear was the babble of a creek. It was peaceful.
The sides of the trail were thick with ferns of all kinds, blanketing the slopes up to where rock walls erupted up along the trail. On the right, my first view of the cumberland river. it was still and turbid-looking here.
I didn't see a single other person until I got up to my campsite at the end of the day. A lonely trail winding along the banks of the cumberland river, flanked on my left by high rock cliffs.
Seasonal waterfalls cascaded down to the river.
Water spills with abandon over slippery rocks down to the Big South Fork, waterfalls dance on their course to the river.
It was late in the afternoon now and I was headed for Alum Ford Campground, a small primitive camping area along the river, just past Yahoo Falls.
At Alum Ford that night I met a couple of fellow backpackers, and another handful of people in 4wd vehicles--the road up to the campground was rough, washed out gravel. The campground had only 8 spots, and a newer looking privy in the middle. I strung up my hennessy hammock kinda awkwardly as there was a dearth of good trees to hang from at my spot. There was a little footrail going down the steep bank to the ford, which was placid and quiet at sunset.
I camped next to a stream that trickled water all night. This melded with the calls of whippoorwills, and animal screams, and boat engines in the distance, a cacophony that engulfed me in my sleep. The next morning held out for me a blue sky, and sunlight shining through gaps in the canopy of the woods.
As I ate breakfast and packed up, a few parties of backpackers passed through the camp, which the Sheltowee ran directly through. One was a couple whom I envied and one was a man with his dog, the smaller of which roved with a little pack of its own on its back.
Pockmarked, moss-graced boulder bathed in sunlight
A sunlit trail on monday
Great mossy boulders by the edge of cotton patch creek.
Sunlight illuminating the waters of the Cumberland, tall grasses ruffled by the wind. A sweet smell of wildflowers wafts in the early summer air.
Monday night I made it to Rock Creek, camping at Great Meadows Campground. Though the campground was free, it was unfortunately littered with food and trash from campers of days past. The only other family camping in the same loop as I was shut their generator off at nightfall. I was left in the dark with just the din of flowing Rock Creek to color my dreams.
Six miles after leaving Alum Ford campground stood the bridge over the cumberlands at Yamacraw.
The forest floors always looks enchanting dappled with warm sunlight.
From US-27 to Great Meadows campground was about 33 miles. The next post I'll cover the final leg of my early summer backpacking travels: Getting from Rock Creek to Bandy Creek Campground.
