Three Walls and a Roof: The AT Shelters of Georgia

Springer Mountain Shelter, from a previous visit to the mountain of the same name. This is the only picture of a shelter I have.

Of the eleven National Scenic Trails in the United States, the Appalachian Trail is unique in its system of shelters. In general, these structures are placed between 6-10 miles apart from each other, which makes them accessible by a day's hike for all but slowest hikers. No two shelters are alike, as they have different capacities, were built at different times, and use different designs and materials. Some are well built, protect from the wind, and have easily accessible water. Others are barely better than no shelter, are more shelters for mice than hikers, and seem to be built to funnel the wind into the shelter area.

Saving the Hike by Getting off the Trail

The sign at Dick's Creek Gap. In a couple months I'll have a picture showing me back on the trail.

I won't be through-hiking the Appalachian Trail in 2015.

Those words were hard to type, but they are true. In the calendar year 2015, I won't be walking the entirety of the Appalachian Trail from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Maine. With that being the strict definition of a through-hiker, I will not qualify.

Looking Towards the AT: Georgia

View from atop Blood Mountain, highest point on AT in Georgia

Note: Over the next year, we'll be sharing our thoughts on the sections of the Appalachian Trail that we will be walking next year. Only a few do we have any even remotely significant experience with, but we still have thoughts on them that we'd like to share. After we finish our hike, we'll be able to look back at these and see if we were pretty astute with our thoughts, or way off the trail. Although many of the sections are broken down by state, some (such as VA, NC, and TN) will be broken into smaller portions due to length of trail and special circumstances. We begin with Georgia, the first state heading north.

Section: Georgia
Region: South
Miles of trail: 76.4 (Not counting ~9 miles along the approach trail from Amicalola Falls State Park)
Highlights: Springer Mountain, Blood Mountain, Neel's Gap

Hiking the Lists #10

Hike: #10
Title: Sosebee Cove Nature Trail 
Location: Chattahoochee National Forest
Hike List: North Georgia
Difficulty: Easy. It's uphill for half of it, but it's so short that doesn't really matter.
Duration of Hike: Walking straight through would take maybe five to ten minutes. More if you take pictures or just want to experience the serenity of nature.

The Sosebee Cove Nature Trail is a short trail, so this will be a short entry. It's not difficult to walk, and is over almost as soon as it begins. When I walked it, it was still winter up in the mountains of North Georgia, so the large trees had no leaves, and the wildflowers were still a couple months away from blanketing the hill side.

Hiking the Lists #9 - Amicalola Falls Loop

Hike: #9
Title: Amicalola Falls Loop
Location: Amicalola Falls State Park
Hike List: North Georgia
Difficulty: Easy, then difficult, then hundreds of stairs, then a moderately easy walk back down hill
Duration of Hike: Two-three hours of hiking, depending upon how many pictures (and rest stops) you take. Be careful, a side trail can take you six months (one way) to finish.

Some of the hikes in this series, particularly the ones in a certain state that rhymes with "thrillinois", are not the most interesting to write (or read) about. They may just be nice walks in the woods, or a sweaty tromp through prairie grasses. They can be a slog to get through, and often put this feature in jeopardy of getting behind.

Hiking the Lists, #6: Springer Mountain and Benton Mackaye Legacy Loop

Hike: #6
Title: Springer Mountain and Benton Mackaye Legacy Loop
Location: Springer Mountain and surrounding land, Chattahoochee National Forest
Hike List: North Georgia Mountains
Difficulty: Moderately Difficult
Duration of Hike: A few tough hours

This marks the first of the hikes in this feature to already have been written about before. There isn't much in the way of specifics to add to her tale. In short, the hike is well worth your time, is moderately challenging, and lets you say you were a section hiker on two different long distance trails on the same day. Since time has passed since that hike, I thought I would add a few additional thoughts.

Hikin' It Easy: Anna Ruby Falls

Hike #: 2
Name: Anna Ruby Falls
Location: Chattahoochee National Forest, Georgia
Distance: 0.8 miles (one way)
Difficulty: Moderate

I'm not going to lie, the walk up to Anna Ruby Falls is fairly steep. It's not hiking up to Blood Mountain, or even as bad as the walk up to the top of Clingman's Dome, but you are definitely walking up hill. However, the walk is short, the path is paved (and thus easy footing), and the view at the end is well worth it.

The neat thing about Anna Ruby Falls is that it isn't just one, but two creeks that make up the falls. From one direction comes Curtis Creek,, and from another comes York Creek. Both make their short journey from Tray Mountain, before going over Anna Ruby Falls. Below the falls they come together to form Smith Creek, which continues on its way to the Chattahoochee River, and eventually the Gulf of Mexico.

Unlike DeSoto Falls*, Anna Ruby Falls is frequently busy, even in the winter. It is up a short road from Unicoi State Park, which has a large campground and a lodge. In addition, it is just a short drive from Helen, a popular tourist town that is kind of like a North Georgia Gatlinburg. When I went it was February, so it wasn't packed, but there was plenty of company.

There are many great falls to see in the North Georgia Mountains. Some require considerable effort to reach, but many do not. Anna Ruby Falls should be on any persons list of Appalachian water falls, especially considering how easy it is to reach. Provided you don't mind a bit of an uphill walk.

*This may make this feature, although it will also be in "Hiking the Lists"

Darn...and Hooray!

Just got the 2nd Edition of 50 Hikes in the North Georgia Mountains, and two of the hikes I walked in the 1st Edition were cut, with none of the new ones being trails I've hiked. Oh well, I'll still be writing about those hikes, and both books are valid in my "Hiking the Lists".

Also, I just discovered that the L.P. Michigan book has 60 hikes, like the Wisconsin one. So instead of 317 hikes, it's more like ~335 hikes.

Just means more hiking for me, I suppose.

Springer Mountain and the BMT, part 2.

The first weekend of December, my sister and I went to Northern Georgia to do some hiking. While I was living in Chattanooga I had purchased a book with 50 trails in the North Georgia mountains, and I wanted to knock a couple of these trails out. We used some free nights I had earned from a hotel loyalty program I was part of, and set our minds to hike one trail on Sunday and one on Monday.

We got into Helen, GA fairly late on Saturday, and ended up getting up much later than I had hoped on Sunday. It wasn't until after noon that we got started out for the day. After a trip to local IGA for some supplies, we decided to walk the Tennessee Rock trail up at Black Mountain State Park (the highest state park in Georgia). Of course it was unseasonably warm, so we thought it would be a great day for a hike up in the mountains.

After a nice drive through mountains and lunch in Clayton, GA, we made the turn off of US 441 towards the state park. Lo and behold the highest state park in Georgia is also a park that closes in the winter. So it is 70 degrees out (OK, probably around 55-60 up in the mountains), the sky is crystal clear, and the freaking State Park is closed. They were so rigid they didn't even have one last weekend before closing. Apparently December 1 MEANS December 1 to Georgia State Parks.

Because of our late start, the early sunset, and the fact that Tennessee Rock was the farthest away of the three options, we had effectively ruined our shot at hiking much of anything on Sunday. Instead we drove even farther, through Franklin and up to Wayah Bald. Wayah Bald is a high point on the AT in North Carolina, and is one of the easiest points on the trail to get to that isn't on a road crossing (or train station). All it takes is driving up a winding road from Franklin, then drive up another winding gravel road, and park at the nice new paved lot. From there it is a short walk along the paved AT to the Wayah Bald tower, which provides a panoramic view of the Blue Ridge of TN, NC, and GA. From atop the tower, we could see Clingman's Dome, the highest point in TN and the AT. It's hard to believe that it is less than thirty miles in a straightline to there. By car it would take about two hours or more to get there, and by foot it would take many days of grueling ups and downs to reach it.

The short walk to and from Wayah Bald was the sum total of our hiking that day. However, we enjoyed a nice drive through the now leafless mountains, and some excellent views atop that peaceful bald. I don't consider it a waste, and considering how much of an ordeal the next day turned out to be, I'm kind of glad I didn't walk several miles on Sunday. But that's another story, one that my sister tells so well.

Walking along the AT #2: Blood Mountain

Date: March 12, 2011
Direction: SOBO Up, NOBO down
Distance: 1.5 miles one way, 3.0 round trip On AT (2.2/4.4 Total)
Start (SOBO): Flat Rock Gap on AT (Byron Herbert Reece Memorial Parking Lot Actual)
End (SOBO): Blood Mountain Summit

Of the seven short hikes I've made along the Appalachian Trail, the hike of Blood Mountain was by far the most difficult. Fortunately, I was in the best shape in a few years when I did this hike. Unfortunately, I still was in pretty sorry shape, as the frequent breaks going up the mountain would show.

The hike up Blood Mountain was part two of a two-day trip in Northern Georgia for my sister and I. The previous day we had hiked the beginning of the AT approach trail from the Amicalola State Park Visitors Center up to the top of the falls, and then back down along the old approach trail. It had been a beautiful hike, punctuated by the 600 stairs we had to walk to the top. After our adventure at Amicalola we had driven around through the North Georgia Mountains. At this point I hadn't quite decided where exactly we would walk on Sunday, but by the time we had checked into our hotel at Blue Ridge, Georgia, Blood Mountain was the leading candidate. It had the virtue of being fairly close to get to from Blue Ridge, relatively easy accessibility from the Byron Herbert Reece Memorial, and a certain amount of status, as Blood Mountain is the highest point along the AT in Georgia.

Therefore the next morning we set out for Blood Mountain. But first we had to make a stop at the Walasi-Yi Center in Neels Gap. For most hikers along the AT this is the first resupply point. It's also the only place where the AT effectively goes through a building, and a place known for its pack shakedowns. As we were not thru-hikers, we were merely visiting as curious wannabes, taking a look at the various equipment and supplies that they had to offer. At this point I had never been in a real outfitter store before, not even an REI or something like that. It was interesting to see all the various stuff they had in there, most of which I had just read about at this point.

After we had spent some time looking around, and Erin seriously investigated some of the sleeping bags they had, we decided that we had stalled long enough and headed back down the mountain a bit to the Byron Herbert Reece Memorial. This is the primary parking lot for day hikers on Blood Mountain, as the Walasi-Yi parking lot is only for customers and for a very short amount of time. There were two ways to get from the memorial lot to the AT: walk up the road to Neels Gap, or take the connector trail from the lot to the AT at Flatrock Gap. As we were going to the summit, it would up all the way.

After a short period on the trail where it was mostly flat, we finally hit some switchbacks, and it was time for the climb. It was here where I felt the more common other side of my hike up Springer Mountain, as I was the slow one of the group. I could tell Erin was getting impatient with my frequent stops, but I had to make them if I were going to get up that hill. Frankly I felt she was pushing me a bit too far, but after a while I set in to a method of counting my steps, and pushing myself to take 10-20 more each time before I took a break.

Finally, after a particularly steep climb we made it to Flatrock gap, the site of our first major break. I hadn't been sure of how far it was to the top of Blood Mountain before we got there, and found out it was 1.5 miles from the gap to the summit. This sounded about right, so we committed to the summit. Had it been more than two miles one way, we likely would have chosen another alternative, perhaps walking the AT back to Neels Gap.

After a much too short flat section, we began climbing again. Unlike most of the connector, however, this was much rockier. If it wasn't going up switchbacks, it was going over stone steps carved out of the side of the mountain. Getting my heavy legs up those steps was a chore, but I made it through them. By this point my energy was somewhat shot. However, I figured it was okay, because we had made the summit. I mean, it was rocky, and there were open vistas, so it had to be near the top, right?

Well, Erin went ahead to scout this out, as I slowly puttered along the trail. Very quickly we discovered that the first clearing was a false summit, as a short and steep section up through more trees showed us. Then we climbed up the face of a boulder, and there was still more summit above. Finally Erin had reached the summit, and came back down to where I was muddling along to lead me there. After several false summits the trail leveled off as well as the ridge, and I knew we were finally there. The USGS marker placed into the rock confirmed this as well.

I sat there and drank water, eating a couple snacks I had brought along. The view was pretty impressive, although it was mainly of more wooden mountains, so there was little in the way of distinctive landmarks. We took a few pictures, conversed briefly with a few other hikers (it was a very busy day with plenty of hikers), and resolved to head down. I would have enjoyed sitting up there a while longer, but other people deserved their chance to sit at the summit, and Erin was getting very impatient.

I think I must have skimped on breakfast, and made the mistake of not getting lunch, because on the way down I felt a bit drained of energy. Also, we both made the mistake of drinking too much water going up. Fortunately it was a cool March day, or that could have been a bigger issue. As it was, it took a fair amount of effort for me to navigate back down the stairs and switchbacks.

As we reached Flatrock Gap, I felt that I had to get some water to keep me going. Fortunately there was a stream just below the gap with flowing water. I filled my bottle up, making sure it was in a rockier area that was flowing briskly and not a more lethargic area of the stream. Still, I knew it was a gamble, as we did not have any method to treat it. It tasted fine, and it certainly rejuvenated me to an extent. It was enough to get back down the trail to the car.

Besides a need to get water, the biggest thing I noticed coming down were the people carrying packs. I had read up enough on thru-hikers to know that these people we saw were not them, or at least not ones likely to succeed. They carried gigantic packs that made them look like they were on some expedition to the arctic. As we talked to a few of them, we discovered they were just college kids out hiking a few days on their break. I suppose when you are only out there for a few days, you can deal with a pack full of unnecessary stuff.

After navigating down another set of switchbacks, I recognized we were back on the relatively flat section that followed the stream I had drank from. My spirits picked up at this point, even if my feet were protesting. We headed back through the path cut through the rhododendron and finally made it back to the sign at the entrance of the Blood Mountain Wilderness. Shortly thereafter we saw the car, and thus the end of the hike.

The hike up to Blood Mountain was then and still is the largest single incline I've ever walked. It was over twice the incline of our hike up to the top of Amicalola Falls. It was exhausting, at times infuriating, and at times a bit discouraging. However, for as much bitching as I may have done, I know I truly enjoyed, much more than the things I usually am doing in front a computer during the week. When we went back up to Walasi-Yi to get celebratory soft drinks, I felt a rush of excitement. I had walked up to freaking Blood Mountain. Although that unfortunately was the peak of my hiking achievements in 2011*, it's not too shabby.

Next Week: Andrew walks the length of the trail through Hot Springs, the first town right on the NOBO trail.

*A couple weeks after the hike I got an infection of some sort that seriously kicked my ass. I'm not sure it had anything to do with the water I took from the trail or not. The usual result from bad water was kind of the opposite of whatever I went through. I tried coming back from it too soon on a short hike from Cravens House on Lookout Mountain and that scared me off any real hikes. In fact, it wasn't until about a year later I made a hike of any real incline or distance.

Conditioning Hike #3 - Chickamauga

October 30, 2010

Since I was in grade school, I have been an avid student of history, especially the Civil War. Thus, it was no surprise that one of the benefits of taking a job in Chattanooga was its pivotal role during that war. Lookout Mountain, the site of the famed "Battle above the Clouds", is visible from the parking lot of my apartment building. While driving to work, I see Missionary Ridge, the site where the Army of the Cumberland charged straight up the ridge to the astonishment of the Confederate defenders. And just a few miles to the south in Georgia is the field of Chickamauga, the bloodiest battle in the western theater.

Besides being full of monuments and history, the Chickamauga battlefield is also a great place to walk. Miles of trails snake through the forests and fields, through important sites such as Brotherton Field and Snodgrass Hill, and acres of land that had little impact on the battle, but are good places to walk and enjoy nature. From short spur trails to informational placards to a 14 mile loop trail that goes through most of the park, there are plenty of opportunities for a good walk.

The large number of trails and the gentle terrain of the park made it a natural place for me to do my first endurance hike. Thus, shortly after noon I took off from the visitors center, with no particular goal in sight. My only intention was to walk for several miles, to give my body notice that it would have to put up with these long walks from now on.

For the first third, I must say it was a pleasant walk through the woods. I found myself on trails near the edge of the park, away from the main areas of the battlefield. Occasionally I would run into small areas where cannons and monuments were, but for the most part it was myself, the trees, and squirrels. The trees were beginning to turn, although some were still green.

After about mile two, my poor physical condition began to rear its ugly head. My feet started to hurt, and I started to wonder where the hell I was. Not having a map or compass, I wasn't exactly certain where I was. Even when I found roads or bigger monuments, such as the one at Bragg's Headquarters, I wasn't certain where I was. Clearly for longer journeys in wilder areas I will need to be better prepared. Still, I was enjoying my walk, greeting the occasional trail runner or group of horse riders as I continued on my way.

Onwards I went, finally reaching Lafayette Road, the main road that bisects the park. Here, again without a map, I missed the trail that paralleled the road (which is not one conducive to road hiking), ending up taking a shorter trail that led from where I had met the road to Brotherton Field. Here was where Longstreet's troops made the breakthrough right where the Union had inadvertently weakened their lines, resulting in the panicked retreat of a large chunk of the Union army back towards Chattanooga. For me, the field was tranquil, if a bit too sun-drenched for my tastes.

From here on out, my walk was just a test of endurance, to see if I could get my weary body back to my car, one step at at time. There was not a continuous trail along this stretch, forcing me to walk along a pullout road. Once this road met the main road, I decided to "bushwhack" for a small distance through trees near Kelly Field, walking through the field back towards another row of monuments. Here I rested my feet for a bit, looking at the multitude of stone monuments from Wisconsin, Iowa, Indiana, Illinois, and other states of the Union.

Somewhat recharged, I settled back in on the main loop trail, on the home stretch back to the Visitors Center. Each step at this point I could feel through my shoe, but I still kept going, knowing that it was the only way to get back to my car. At one point I had to cross loose gravel of a fairly large size, which slightly rolled my ankle at least once, almost sending me tumbling to the ground. Fortunately, I kept my footing, and continued on. To falter at that point would have been frustrating.

Finally I left the last wooded area and re-entered another field, where an Illinois monument and the Florida state monument stand. This marked the end of my approximately six mile loop, but I still had a short hike back to the Visitors Center parking lot, where I dispatched with some trash I had picked up along the trail. Before leaving I checked the big map board standing outside the Visitors Center, just to get a general idea of where I hiked, and realized I had spent a good deal of time near the eastern boundary of the park, which explained why it took as long as it did to get back to the main road.

That night my feet were sore, and my legs were stiff. Nevertheless, I felt I had accomplished something, got some decent pictures of the battlefield, and felt generally good about the experience. The next day I would be going out to eat breakfast, and then take a short drive out to Cloudland Canyon State Park, where I figured I would get some nice pictures of the fall foliage from the east rim overlooks before calling it a day. Little did I realize as I went to bed that night the trek I had in store for me that next day.

On the Next Edition: Rocks, Roots, and Canyons, Oh My!

Conditioning Hikes #1 and #2 at Fort Mountain and Brasstown Bald

October 23, 2010

From what I can gather online, all the conditioning and preparation one can do before attempting to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail still doesn’t come close to the experience. However, years of sitting in my chair eating Cheetos, drinking Yuengling, and dicking around on the Internet has left me with a rather soft exterior. In order to just be able to make it through those first really tough weeks, I need to be in considerably better shape.

Thus, over a year before the big day, I’ve begun using my weekends, vacations, holidays, and sometimes even evenings to take conditioning hikes. As I’ve yet to acquire any backcountry gear, my hikes are limited to dayhikes for the time being. They come in three flavors: relatively short hikes up strenuous terrain to fortify the legs and lungs, much longer hikes (sometimes as much as 10-15 miles) over gentler terrain to build endurance, and a combination of both.

My first two “official” conditioning hikes were undertaken three weeks ago in the mountains of north Georgia. As both hikes were less than 1.5 miles each, consisting mostly of moderately steep inclines, they qualify as “Climb” hikes.

I suppose the trail up to the overlook at Fort Mountain is an easy hike. It’s fairly wide and in most places is well trod. It’s steep, but it isn’t that long. Had I been regularly walking for several weeks, I doubt it would have been much of a thing. However, this marked my first conditioning hike, and I had only been “exercising” using my WiiFit for a week. Thus, mere yards into the hike I was huffing and puffing. I took it slow, resting when necessary, and finally made it up to the overlook. By far this first part was the roughest climb, although the part of the trail beyond the overlook was narrower and rougher, and the climb from the opposite side up to the “stone wall” trail was not a gentle stroll through a meadow. Fortunately the trek along the “Mysterious Stone Wall of Fort Mountain” back to the overlook trail was mostly downhill and gentle, the highlight of which being a small snake slithering in the grass off to the side.

If the hike up to the overlook at Fort Mountain was a challenge, it paled in comparison to the 0.6 mile walk to the top of Brasstown Bald. The highest point in Georgia, it is a popular place to visit, with a large parking lot and a shuttle to the top for the old, the handicapped, and the lazy. If you choose to hoof it, it’s a 428 foot climb in just over a half a mile. Obviously this would be a bit of trek.

Up and up I went, stopping far too often to catch my breath before continuing up. The trail had started with a few informational placards, and I had hoped those would continue, so I could assuage my ego by saying I was stopping to learn. Unfortunately, they were few and far between. Slowly I made it up each switchback, until I finally crossed the road to the top and hit the home stretch. Finally the sign announcing you were at the top, and the large interpretive center/observation deck behind it, came into view.

I took the requisite pictures, refilled my water bottle, and enjoyed a delicious apple I had purchased at Kroger earlier that day. I was proud of my accomplishment, as difficult as it may have been. That pride was tempered somewhat by the sights of a dachshund walking the path with its owner, and a small woman pushing a baby-occupied stroller. Sure, it was something I had acheived, but I still have a ways to go.

On our Next Episode: I attempt my first endurance hike.