bumbling thru this beautiful world: October ‘23: A Lil Falltime Frolick on Pine Mountain

October 21-23rd, 2023

This past fall break I headed down to Pine Mountain to backpack the Birch Knob Section of the PMT. I’m glad I finally got the chance to hike this backbone along a critical ribbon of conserved forest. The Pine Mountain Trail is intended to be one leg of the Great Eastern Trail, a work-in-progress which will eventually parallel the AT and run from Alabama to New York. Pine Mountain, according to the Kentucky Natural Lands Trust, is one of the world’s most biodiverse temperate zone forests.

Day 1 - Elkhorn City Trailhead to just past Skeet Rock Knob

I was supposed to do this hike with Elijah but he got sick the week preceding. He still agreed to ferry me to and from the trailheads (what an angel he is). We got to Elkhorn City, KY at nearly 1 on a breezy and overcast day. The road to the trailhead was deeply rutted with muddy water collected upon the surface, but my 2wd CRV made it just fine.

My greatest apprehension about the trail was the water situation. I was comforted that it’d rained a lot in the week before I started walking, but at least in Central KY it’d been dry for months. Day 1, walking 9ish miles to Skeet Rock Knob, the best source I could find was a leaf-covered puddle on a rocky ridge. It was brown-tinged but clear enough. I <3 chlorine tablets. At some point in the day I passed “goldfish pond” which is listed as an official source in my guide but looked far less palatable.

My guy!!! A northern walkingstick.

The push up to pine mountain from Elkhorn City was rocky and steep ATV trails through Breaks Interstate Park, mostly clear and wide with the cover of some rhododendron tunnels. The first big overlook was a look at the town I’d passed through to get to the trailhead. The trail thinned out to single track at some points. A leaf bug leapt across the trail and the overhanging arm of a shrubby witch-hazel held out before me a still and silent walkingstick. I made dinner at a rock outcrop covered in steadfast lichen with a sweet view of changing leaves in the valley I had just climbed out of. Mac n cheese below a swirling cloud-quilt.

Walking upon a spine of exposed lichencovered rock

Golden hour—delectable!

After dinner I hiked on a bit more and found a little hammock spot in a patch of woods between a rock outcrop and a buzzing powerline clearing. As I was setting up for the night I was startled by a scurrying of something dark-colored and mammalian in the brush. Out of the undergrowth appeared a cadre of black little hound dogs, at least 4 of them, but no humans in sight. They barked at me a little then went away, down the mountain or elsewhere I’ll never know.

I was cozy in my little sack and I remember the wind roaring over the ridge, swallowing all other sound. Gusts ruffled the dying leaves and pulled at the tall trunks so the moonlight pulsed through the trees before it found me.

Day 2 - Powerline overlook near Skeet Rock Knob to Cantrell Gap

The day’s highlight was getting Birch Knob overlook to myself for about an hour, and then a bear I saw on an unsuccessful attempt to find Jenny Falls. It was cloudy all day and if I sat for a break for too long I got all frosty and shivery.

Hiking in the morning I passed some historical markers pointing out old homesites, explaining the significance of gaps the trail traveled through. The trail changes from one track to join old wagon roadbeds at some points. With the terrain and everything grown up it’s hard to imagine people making a living in this landscape. One sign after Blowing Rock Gap pointed out the murder site of Henry Mullins. It read:

“One day while Pridemore Fleming was sheriff of Dickenson County, he and some others made a raid in the vicinity of Blowing Rock Gap. They found some moonshine near George Dutton’s on Cane Creek, and proceeded to drink a lot of it. While in this condition they approached the home of Henry Mullins. They found a jar of moonshine just on the Virginia side, and accosted Henry about it. He denied any knowledge of it being on his place, and one of the posse, Seth Hill, shot him dead. Since the shooting happened in Kentucky the trial for this murder was held at Pikeville. Hill was given a small fine.”

Wild. What the fuck Seth??

“Old home site—this site is the location of an old farm belonging to an early settler.”

“Henry and Arminie Mullins Homesite”

Birch Knob Shelter

I wandered on wondering what widowed life was like for Arminie Mullins, alone on the mountain, husband taken by a drunkard’s gun. I got to the turn off for Jenny Falls, marked with a blue blaze as a water source. In pursuit of a scenic sidequest and some quenchment I went down the hill, a side trail traveling through a rhodo-choked drainage. I got this sense that if I were a bear… this would be a fine place to be. And sure enough, right ahead of me on the trail, a flash of furry black behind, and then a split second decision to save Jenny Falls for another day. I absconded back up the hill to the main trail. Soon after, a sweet shelter, and then the parking lot for Birch Knob Observation Tower.

Looking over into VA (i think)

Looking over into KY

There was a cistern that made an excellent water source along the trail between Birch Knob Shelter and the observation deck parking lot. I filled up, grateful after my aborted water mission, then scurried up the metal steps see the overlook. I stayed a while to take in Pine Mountain in autumn sublimity, stretching on towards Whitesburg and beyond. A truly baller vista that I returned to during Thanksgiving Break to savor a sunset at.

The trail continues south, following a gravel road. Along the road I memorial site of a plane crash with another good overlook of hills and farm land. I remember a sign for an official campsite off to the left of the road, which I didn’t investigate. Soon I turned right, back up onto single track trail shaded in by trees of autumn struggling to hold on to their leaves.

A warning about the trail being “incomplete and difficult to traverse” after I left the gravel road leading away from Birch Knob Tower

I was hiking with some guidance from Valerie Askren’s Backpacking Kentucky book, which showed campsites that were nowhere to be found, i guess due to trail reroutes over the years. There was supposed to be a campsite at Cantrell Gap, but I saw nothing indicative of a good place to sleep. I hiked on just a bit and found a flat spot on a ridge overlooking the KY side to set up for the night on. My view there was obscured but I still enjoyed what I could see of the sunset, vibrant colors upon the hills beyond the trees. Down in Kentucky I saw dots of light coming from people’s homes, and the shouts and barks and engines of civilization which travel up to the ridge to meld with the mountain breeze. Again, moonlight coming to me, strong through the trunks and branches. What does a bobcat make of moonlight? What does it think when clouds shroud it out?

Day 3 - Cantrell Gap to Jenkins, KY

The last day of every backpacking trip is always bittersweet. I woke to blue beyond the treetops. I had all day to make the 10.5 miles to pound gap, and was full of a sense of excitement to see my love again and a sadness that my trip was coming to an end. The first part of the day followed wide ATV trails, which made for rocky, steep walking in some spots and slick n’ muddy potholed sliding in others. I was running out of water in the morning and deciding whether or not to collect some from one of the gargantuan oily ATV puddles when I saw a paw paw patch, and then a very shallow stream crossing the trail which I collected from using the broken-off cap of my Nalgene.

Some sort of old foundation I passed early in the day.

Great Eastern Trail.

PMT marker on a huge tree fallen across the trail.

This final day was the most bushwhacky of the section. Just before “the doubles” for a spell there are blazes upon trees to mark a path, but no trail. It switches between dubious one-track/nonexistent to 4X4 road. There’s some neighboring private land as well; I remember passing through a big sunny field with a little hunter’s treehouse at the edge. I’m not sure if that was part of the trail. There is nothing quite like the joy of seeing a blaze for the first time after a good while of befuddlement. If all fails, just follow along the spine of the mountain.

Some cliffs I saw before I got lost.

Despite the mild confusion of a trail-in-progress (I would love to work on the PMT one day) this final day was so wonderful—the sunshine & rock walls rising from the earth & endless views of the hills beyond. And the serenity of a lonely trail in autumn! This entire section I saw no other hikers—only a family out on their ATVs on day 1, and people going up to the observation deck on day 2.

Tucker Gap! The first trail blaze I saw after some bewilderment

Just before the quarry overlook (view was choked out by invasive autumn olive) I found the best water source of the day, a wide stream that the trail crossed.

The end of the section came up quicker than I thought. The last hard push of the day was through a steep rhododendron tunnel, like going up a staircase past little caves carved into the rock. I emerged at the final overlook of the section. After raven’s nest overlook there was another little stretch of upland woods and then I found myself signing the hiker notebook left by the Pine Mountain Trail Conference. Then I emerged from the woods by a big noisy cell tower.

A long, gravel drive took me down off the mountain to US-23. I took my time, savoring these last views of the mountains beyond the power lines, part of me wishing my path was to push on, cross the pavement, and get back into the woods onto the next section before the sun came down. But the highlands & little shepherd sections I’ll save for later, maybe next spring, to see Pine Mountain in the throes of another season. For now I’ll daydream of rhodo tunnels and rugged rock jutting out of the earth, and stickbugs & gazing out at slopes and valleys graced with hues of red and orange and gold.