Great Smoky Mountains National Park 5

We begin to set up camp when the deluge hits rain pummels us hard. It hails again, and the boys tent quickly fills with water. We're cold, hungry, and tired as we re-arrange camp crawl into sleeping bags and sleep out the storm. Drenched, and downtrodden we awake to decide what to do. We were all looking forward to campsite 29 as it is supposed to be a wonderland of synchronous fireflies, a resident bear, hell benders in the creek and other wonders that we were excited to explore. What we got, a cold soaking and a flying squirrel chewing into one of our food bags.


I take a vote to see if everyone has the nerve to continue. We are scheduled for a 14 mile day, and I don't feel like pushing everyone farther than necessary because there is an easier 6 mile way to abort. The majority vote goes to continue so we trudge onward. Today is the day of the creek crossing. With many of them well into thigh region and the creeks roaring from the rain.


We pick our way carefully through the creeks, and quickly decent out of the mountains. Through Albright Grove a virgin stand of woods. Poplar trees dominate with 3-4 foot diameter trunks, and a couple dead stands with 6 foot trunks.


We lunch at a junction on an access road. A couple miles from a trail head. The closest to civilization we've been in a few days. A few families pass on day hikes taking a wide berth, we aren't sure weather we scare the little kids, the parents, or just smell that bad.

We start off on the Old Settlers Trail. Visit a 17th century graveyard. And pass by numerous stacked stone chimneys and chimney remains. When the park was formed this area was home to some 1000 people. Mostly farms, and much of it field and farmland. It's amazing how nature in some 80 years has reclaimed all of it in second growth forest. As we hike we often see, and for miles hike along stacked stone walls. Many of them 2-3 foot thick and sometimes 6-7 foot tall. The amount of work that had gone into building them is incredible. We often feel like a hobbit should appear as we round a bend.


Even though we are in the valley the trail winds up and down streams. We hike up old farm roads almost to the head water of the stream. Cross the ridge, and hike down the next stream returning to the valley. I've determined farmers only know how to build roads straight up hills.


We camp at an old homestead, only a chimney remains, that is reported to be haunted. We hear and see no evil, so that will have to remain a myth in our experience. Our hike out is much like the day before lot of little ups and downs, Chimneys, and stream crossings. With the addition of the heat and humidity of the lower elevations. The hike reminds me of southern Ohio and Pa. The little nagging resignation that we are almost done sets in. I always battle with the joy of completion, looking forward to a little civilization, and the remorse that the journey is almost over and wishes that it could maybe continue on for another day or two. We bath our feet in the waters of the Little Pigeon River upon the completion of our trip.

We set out for Gatlinburg to find a hotel, showers and food that hasn't been dehydrated. We walk down the main drag and Angie makes fun of my for my visible annoyance at all the people. A little culture shock has struck me with the massive crowds of the overtly tourist trap town. A couple quick pit stops at the visitors center and a drive to Clingmans Dome round out our trip before we head home.


A beautiful week in the mountains with my favorite people in the world, who could ask for anything more.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park 4

After hanging out with 100 mile views at Charlies Bunion we decide to continue on. Another short 6 mile day awaits us.


We start our hike over what are known as the Sawtooths. The climbs are nowhere near as difficult as the previous 2 days and we wind our way up and down what seems like the spine of the Smokies. The ridge winds back and forth alternating views of North Carolina and Tennessee. The hills fall away on either side, and often both. There is a light wind, and the temperature maybe reaches the mid seventies. Unlike the low nineties when we pull into Cosby.


I'm really getting my trail legs now. We lunch trailside with humus pita and kalamata olives, with distant views of Fontana Lake. We make the Peck's Corner Shelter early. Isaac and Angie are beat. In conversation it feels like Nolan, Ian and I are all itching to do another 5 miles. We relax visit, nap and lounge the evening away. I pick the brain of Haiku a retired gentleman who earlier this year completed a 4 week 350+ mile section hike of the AT.


We break camp early as we have a longer day. Ten miles and the beginning of our decent out of the high peaks. The first half of the trail is similar to yesterday. I break out ahead, then eventually pick up my poles and slowly walk along having a spiritual little respite in the flat mountain top woods.


After summiting Mt. Guyot the forests begin to change again from the the wooded tops to open balds filled with mountain laurels and berry bushes. A storm front quickly rolls in late in the day, and we don our rain gear and begin our decent. The rain pours down hard and at times turns into hail the size of dimes. The rain begins to slack as we reach campsite 29. We've summited the last of our 10 peaks, and I'm a little saddened as I've felt in the rain we've hurried along, and I haven't paid as much attention to our surroundings as I'd have liked.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park 3

We sat in the shelter throughout the evening relaxing and eating dinner in the clouds and rain. Sharing our evening with a couple from Pittsburgh and their hiking partner. I took a short hike out to Cliff Tops, no views but a nice cloud walk. Mt. Le Conte is a massif with four peaks: High Top, Cliff Tops, Myrtle (or as the boys call it Mermaid) Point, and Balsam Point. We would summit 3 of those. A few games of 'Pass the Pigs' round out the night.




Before breakfast, Ian, Angie, Isaac and I would hike over High Top to Myrtle Point for a breathtaking above the clouds view just after sunrise. We take our time eating and packing up as we have a short 6 mile day to our next destination. The boys each place a rock on the growing 8 foot tall cairn on High Top. It is said that the hikers are trying to make Mt. Le Conte taller than Clingman's Dome (the Smokies highest point) one rock at a time. Our hike down the Boulevard trail is a long slow decent down a rocky ridgeline, ending in an extremely steep climb to the junction with the AT.


The boys take every opportunity though the week to turn over rocks to find salamanders. While examining one on the trail I spot, what from a distance looks like a rubber fishing worm in a tree behind Angie. It is a red-cheeked Jordan's Salamander. Our Shuttle said they are fairly rare, and only appear in the Smokies at elevation.


Just before the junction we divert to a scramble over the summit of Mt. Kepart to an area called the Jumpoff for lunch. The Jumpoff is a 3x12 foot overlook that has a view to die for. The sun is bright, the food good as we oogle the landscape and watch the people a couple miles across the valley play on Charlies Bunion (a destination on tomorrow's itinerary.)


My plans for yesterday's sunset on Cliff Top foiled by the rain. I seize the good weather and view we have and call Angie over to a small 2x2 foot precipice to ask for her hand. Sorry, no knee, there just wasn't room. After a short recovery she asks what I would do if she said no, push her? We hang out on the Jumpoff for another half hour before pushing to the Icewater Springs Shelter for the night.

Icewater Springs is packed. A couple Appalachian Trail thru-hikers, a couple AT section hikers, and a few other parties. We bask in the sun for a while recuperating. A deer wanders through the crowded shelter site uncaring about us humans. We decide to try to hike down to Sweat Heifer Falls for dinner. We turn back before the falls, hike back to the ridge and have dinner before nightfall. That is one steep trail.


Icewater is packed to the gills. The thru-hikers have moved on but there are still 16 in the shelter. The sunrise from our sleeping bags though is well worth the sardine conditions. After sunrise we quickly bail out of the shelter to make it to Charlies Bunion for breakfast.


Charlies Bunion is a rock outcropping offering views from Mt Guyot to the east and back to the Jumpoff and Mt. Kepart to the west. It is one of the 2 best dining rooms I've ever eaten at in my life.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park 2

The Alum Cave trail begins as a gradual ascent following the creek and winding through Arch Rock, an eroded hole through a small bluff that you hike through. The trail switches to following Styx Branch and begins putting on the elevation as we need to gain 2700 feet in the next four miles.


It is a very warm day as we reach Alum Cave for lunch. Alum Cave is a concave bluff just under half way to the top. Approximately 80 feet tall and 500 wide with a severely steep sandy floor. The break is well deserved and needed. We lunch at the cusp of the cave floor where some earlier hikers left a scattering of snacks that the none-too-shy red squirrels venture to gather.


Around the Gracie's Pulpit lookout we stop and watch a nesting pair of peregrine falcons chase off a third. The trail winds its way around a NW face and at times is only a foot or 2 wide with a cable handrail on the inner side to give a small amount of security. "Ok Isaac, hold tight" is an often repeated phrase. And I believe it is somewhere in this calf burning steepness that Isaac and Angie dub themselves "Team Slow." This is also where I realize that a change to my flatlander hiking style is necessary. Powering through the climbs is only destroying my calves, and my stamina.


Just as everyone is getting to the end of our proverbial ropes the top comes into sight and we make that last pushes to get to the top. Our shuttle driver said the second to the last mile will make you question your sanity, and she was not lying. We top out directly into a cloud on a flat wide boulevard just as rain begins to fall. A quick jaunt past the Le Conte lodge (which looks to be an interesting trip unto itself, small cabins and catering) to the shelter and we all can finally relax for the evening. Five miles and a final elevation 6593 feet in about 4 hours of hiking time, nice job kids.



While one of the busiest trails, especially with the lodge crowd heading up and all the day-hikers. Alum Cave is a gorgeous first day in the park. We started this trip off with a bang.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park 1

The family and I arrive at Cosby campground around four-ish after having a nice traditional southern meal at Carvers Applehouse in Cosby Tenn. We set up camp and start out for a smallish day hike, and to hopefully see the synchronized fireflies along the Porters Creek trail.

We have shelter reservations and a shuttle that will put us in the backcountry for 6 days, and a leisurely 50 miles of hiking. Starting at the Alum Cave trailhead and ending in Greenbriar.


The trail starts as a graveled access road, switching to single track up by an old cantilever barn and the Smoky Mountain Hiking Club cabin built in the 1930's. We pass an old graveyard and explore the ruins of an old truck left for parts on the mountain some years ago. Porters Creek is a raging cascade of large and small boulders and the aural background for the entire hike.


We continue up the trail to Fern Branch Falls, planning on returning down to Porters Flats just in time for the firefly show. We round a corner on 3 white tail, and later another, learning that the deer really don't care about us. As long as we stay on the trail they mosey on about their business. After Nolan takes one small step off the trail one becomes only mildly nervous.


Everyone is fairly un-nerved by a creek crossing that has a narrow zig-zagging half log bridge with a railing that is angled way out to the left. "Do we have to do this with packs on??" I'm asked nervously.

We spend little time at the falls. An underwhelming dribble down a 40ft face, oh well, the hike was pretty enough. We make too good time returning down to Porters Flats. With 2.5 hours remaining til nightfall we hope we'll catch the fireflies later in the trip and return to camp.

Our neighbors at camp are man and his 2 sons from Cincinnati on an overnight up to the AT and back. Why is it when I leave Ohio I'm surrounded by Ohioans.


The next morning we break camp and meet our shuttle a little before 9. Vesna from awalkinthewoods.com was a boon of information, and put the boys on a salamander quest for the week. They tried their best to find as many of the 32 species in the park as they could. I believe the final tally was 6. We start our voyage just before 10:00 paralleling the beautiful Alum Creek. Rhododendron blooms abound, and walking through them will be a theme of the week.

Isle Royal National Park the final days

As we descend from Mt. Ojibway we evidently missed the trail we really wanted in the fog, and eventually end up back at Daisy Farm. Not a big loss as the forests we passed through were some of Angie's favorite of the trip. If we were still going to Lane Cove this would have put a real kink in my side, but since we decided to camp at three mile it only adds 2 miles to our day, bringing the final total to 14. At check-in and speaking to another ranger this is not an uncommon occurrence, they might have been trying to make me feel better.



The woods from Ojibway to Daisy are a mix of pine, loose open bushy area thin wood, swamp, and a few open rocky areas. Sign and animal trails are everywhere on our hike. Angie is convinced that while she hasn't seen a moose or wolf, they have definitely seen her.



The trail especially between Daisy and 3 Mile is obstacle ridden without the rain, but with, it is down right treacherous. We all take a spill or two at some point, Isaac takes too many to count. But no real injuries. We wade through parts of the trail with water sometimes up to the mid point of my calf. It doesn't matter our feet can not get any wetter.

We pass a father and children who have decided to try and make it to Daisy Farm, and he asks me how much farther. At least 2.5-3 miles I tell him, which brings grumbling from his troops. We try to reassure them, but we hear later that his daughter was balling by the time they reached Daisy Farm.



We grab the last campsite at 3 Mile, next door to our first campsite, and set up the tents. The rain finally subsides. While I'm rigging the two tents together with a porch made from my extra poncho a ranger stops in. She warns us that a lone wolf has been sighted at Daisy Farm for the last 2 nights, and that they are going to try to haze him and scare him off. We heard about this from a gentleman we passed early in the day. The lone wolf evidently peeked into the shelter at him for a while the night before. He said the wolf looked a little thin of hip. As much as I would love a wolf sighting I'm not sure about a desperate wolf sighting. The ranger warns us not to let the kids outside by themselves after dark, and to be loud and scare it off if we see it. Also that we might want to hang our food.

We change into dry clothes, eat our Thai Peanut noodles, and play 'who am i' until we drift off to sleep.



We wake to a partly cloudy morning that gives away to the sun. Seeing as we only have a little over 3 miles this morning we take our time breaking camp. We lay our things on the rock slab beach to dry, and generally just hang out. When packing I have Isaac stand guard over our food and trash bag. There is a squirrel who is bound and determined to get into it. He jumps up on the bag even while one of us is standing right next to it.

I decide that we will hike the Tobin Harbor trail back to Rock Harbor. It is a little longer but I've read is much easier on the ankles. The trail flanks Tobin harbor and is just as pretty as every other trail we've been on, and much less dangerous to our feet. While hiking I mistakenly ask a passing hiker what the time is. 11:00. We usually hike a slow 1.5 mph if you include our frequent stops. We have over 3 miles to go which doesn't give us much time. I push everyone pretty hard, afraid that we might miss our boat. Of course I push so hard that we make the almost 4 mile hike in an hour and a half. Sorry guys. Next time I'll bring a watch.

We spend our last moments on the island polishing off the last of our snack bag. We get Ice cream sandwiches from the camp store. And talk to other hikers we've become acquainted with on the trail.



The crossing back to Copper Harbor is little more than a common boat ride, if we had 2 foot waves I'd be surprised. Naps, and a few games of 'pass the pigs' pass the time.

We do a little shopping and I try to get gas. The needle was on E when we left for the island, and I didn't have extra cash with me. The gas station only takes cash. So we decided to get gas upon our return. Of course when I get there the station is closed. So be warned the Copper Harbor gas station only takes cash, and is only open until 7. We eat dinner at the Mariner North again, I've never had smoked trout pizza before, very yummy. I ask our server where the next closest gas station is, and he replies Phoenix, but she is probably closed by now. Phoenix is a 2 street town over 30 miles away. So we head back over to the campground, the motels are booked. We at least can take a shower even if we are yet to sleep in a bed. Angie and I joke that if we can't get out of town on Sunday we will hock the car and give up, forever to stay in Copper Harbor.



I'm exceedingly proud of my family for being able to persevere on a trip that had a number of thing go wrong. There were plenty of chances for any of them to give up, and obstacles that would make giving up easy. What I'm amazed by more is the sheer beauty that Isle Royale holds. It truly is a magical island, and each of us has already expressed our desire to someday return. There truly is a reason that even though it is one of the least visited National Parks, it has one of the highest per capita rate of return visits. If it weren't for all the other places I wish to backpack. But that is for another story.

Isle Royale National Park the adventure continues

Sunrise over Moskey is breathtaking, and I'm quickly back in my bag for a short nap before our short day. Because we are only hiking about 6 miles, we sleep in, take a long pancake breakfast and break camp late. The hike today is mostly up as we head inland, none of it very steep, but up none the less. We run into a guy whose path we cross with throughout the trip, boat fiasco and all, he gives us a run down of the trail ahead and campsite we plan on staying at. We return the favor.



Lake Ritchie is very pretty but has a slight funk from an algae bloom the rangers warned us about. We lunch at lake Le Sage. A bit further than Isaac would have liked. All are pleased when shortly after lunch we cross over the Greenstone ridge and make it to camp at Chickenbone lake.



I'm continually amazed at how the character of the woods change around us. It seems that every trail we are on has it's own personality, and dominate feature/look. Today is the day of green as we head from Ritchie to the Greenstone. As we rise and fall over ridges we cross through swamps on plank bridges, in most of these giant skunk cabbage leaves have been broken over by the trampling of moose, and the ground is potted from their steps.



We end up at camp 6 which is one of the few lake side sites at West Chickenbone. Watch an OCD Red Squirrel gather nuts. Up the tree, stash the nut, down to a specific branch, jump to a small pine, stop, yell at us, down the tree, repeat. We have a nice dinner of mac-n-cheese followed by a fruit mix with grahams. Our new freezer bag cooking method is working well. The only failure was an oatmeal that refused to rehydrate. The lack of dishes to clean is awesome. The only other downfall is that it can be trying to eat from a quart bag.



I bust off for a day hike toward McCargo Cove while the boys whittle mallow sticks. I make it a good mile and a half when I decide to turn back. Hiking in the dark through the swampy areas around the lake do not sound appealing. Next time I'll remember to take my headlamp.



We finish the evening with mallows and watching an otter play and loon fish from across the lake. At dusk the boys spot a Snowshoe Hare at camp. I write in my journal while it is so quiet I hear only the dull thump of true silence.



Friday I awake to another beautiful sunrise. We are all up early as today is our long day, 12 miles down the Greenstone ridge. As we pack up camp thunderstorms start quickly rolling in. We make it back up to the Greenstone when they let loose. It rains almost continually from then until we set up our tents that night.



The walk is suppose to be our day of views, but the weather has other ideas. Visibility is at a max a hundred yards or so, but most of the time within 20-50 feet. Our ridge walk through the clouds is hauntingly beautiful. Glimpses of surrounding lakes and far ridges encourage our walk. Other than Ian we are in good spirits. He is having trouble dealing with the continual pound of the rain, not physical, he's as dry as can be and warm, just a general funk that threatens the morale of us all.



We hike on, Angie and I joke about having Lake Superior sloshing around in our boots. I joke at every northern lookout, "Hey boys, look, there's Canada". I set up the extra poncho I brought as for a little shelter just off the trail and we lunch. Lunch is a quick affair (tuna and lemon cous cous) as the longer we sit the more chilled we become. We have warmer clothing, but we are keeping it dry for when we get into camp. As long as we are moving we are all staying warm but the stops chill us quickly.



Lunch boosts morale, Ian has come to grips with the perpetual rain. The firetower is just a faded silhouette as we approach the summit of Mt. Ojibway. I can tell Angie is apprehensive as we climb as far as we can up the steel grated stairs. The view from just under the platform (the platform itself is closed) is 40 foot at best, but the we find it intriguing anyhow. The tower is now used for climate and air pollution monitoring.



Our original plan was to hike down the Greenstone ridge to Mount Franklin, then north to Lane Cove for the night. That would leave us with a 7 mile hike to get done before 2pm to catch our boat. We decided because of the rain, and the rough day today to hike south from Mt. Franklin to 3 mile and give ourselves an easy final hike in case the rain continues.