Chattooga - Part 10

...continued from Thursday, November 16.

The first campsite offered a strange encounter: Adventure Scouts, the co-ed version of the Boy Scouts. The co-ed crew was anything but mixed gender, consisting of 5 girls under 18 and a forty-something woman scout leader. Disheveled hair and grungy clothes marked the woman, who had obviously seen her share of the outdoors.

The first sight of the camp revealed three small tents, a more than adequate fire pit, between-the-trees clotheslines, a large pile of firewood and the aforementioned group. Appropriately located nearest the “bath house”, the oversized campsite was anything but shabby. Everything was placed neatly but efficiently. Nothing was unnecessarily unpacked and everyone shared what was used. It could be called a perfect model for a recreational pleasure-seeker.

The six companions - a later conversation disclosed - had been hiking for five weeks already and had two more weeks to go before the summer expedition was complete. The girls had driven from the unexciting terrain of Florida up to the lower end of Appalachia. Tennessee, Kentucky and North Carolina trails had previously been navigated and South Carolina was the last destination of their journey. Oconee State Park for the Fourth would be their final stop before packing up and heading home.

A light conversation turned into an hour of spent time. After the standard topics of discussion were covered, dialogue ranged from life dreams and aspirations to random hiking adventures. The majority of the conversation was one-sided, coming mostly from the woman. A short while later, following goodbyes and a declined offer for dinner cooked by the girls, eyes turned south and on toward Big Bend.

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Chattooga - Part 9

...continued from Tuesday, November 14.

Chattooga runs strewn with boulders along most of its length, creating a system of rapids and eddies. The river’s features create a paradise for kayakers and rafters alike. Deep, placid pools can turn quickly to raging rapids and waterfalls. Novice navigators, along with the advanced, find enjoyable trips on the scenic waters.

Burrell’s Ford Campground is a favorite destination for many hikers and campers. With its many campsites and proximity to the river, Burrell’s Ford is the perfect stop on the long Foothills Trail hike from Table Rock to Oconee State Park. The peaks of tents are a welcome sight to weary travelers. This day’s hike would require more walking before setting up camp. Burrell’s Ford sits over ten miles from Highway 28 - the final destination.

The campground was once accessible by car, which is evidenced by the gravel roadbed that runs right up to the first campsites. The rugged roadbed lies basically useless for any vehicles other than the most heavy-duty four-wheel drives because of steep runoff ditches cut at angles across the road.

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Chattooga - Part 8

...continued from Monday, November 13

The Foothills Trail overlaps the Chattooga Trail a few miles from Fish Hatchery Road. At the intersection, a left turn moves the path farther from the northern end of Chattooga, Ellicott Rock and the North Carolina border. The last section of Foothills before meeting the river trail slowly migrates toward the water until it meets Burrell’s Ford Campground.

It was two hours after setting out before the sound of gurgling water met eager ears. The flat trail slowly started descending to the river basin. The path had been relatively straight, but it began making the first of many twists and turns which would follow.

Chattooga River runs through a deep valley along the Georgia border, creating the jagged state line. Standing high above the water, the trail heads southwest toward Highway 28. Ellicott Rock Wilderness Area boasts a three-state river rock - plaque included. Georgia, North and South Carolina converge on the spot. Hikers often stand on the rock claiming to be in three places at once.

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Chattooga - Part 7

...continued from Monday, October 23

The walk from Fish Hatchery to Chattooga is less than picturesque. Flat terrain and trees are about the only things in view until midway to the river. Three and a half miles separated the parking area from the river. If any hike can be boring it is this section.

The air stood still; shadows of branches showing no movement. Most vernal days the forest ground seems to be a woodland dance floor with its dark figures fluttering and flittering about like nature’s fanciful ballerinas. Of course music is the dancer’s compliment. Songbirds provide the melody and the wind in the trees is the fluid accompaniment. Summer days are often much more quiet – a subdued tranquility.

A few, stray clouds strafed the beaming sun. The fiery orb floated high over the canopy, sending its rays between boughs. The synthesis of sun and shade created a nice climate. The temperature became more pleasant, if but only slightly hot.

The same muscles that were tight only moments earlier moved much easier and walking became a syncopated cadence. Two pairs of shoes plodded on with distinct footfalls – one heavy and almost labored, the other sure and steady. Final adjustments were made to pack straps, ensuring that the burdens didn’t bounce or sag. A sore back is the last thing a tired hiker needs.

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Chattooga - Part 6

...continued from Thursday, October 19...

With the heavy packs tightened on fresh backs, the journey began. The path was well marked and had seen many visitors in its storied past. Two more pairs of worn, hiking shoes would make their mark on the trail.

As always, the walking pace was swift, although a bit slower than normal. Regulating speed is crucial when setting out on long hikes. Walk too fast and run the risk of collapse. Muscles can only take so much punishment before shutting down. Walk too slowly and consign yourself to staying out another night.

Less than 15 minutes in a familiar sight met us. The man and his dog came jogging along the path back towards the vehicles, both guy and canine panting in rhythm with their steps.

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Chattooga - Part 5

...continued from Tuesday, October 17...

Another car turned onto the road and parked across the way. An athletic man hopped out and opened the back door of his blue station wagon. Out came a diminutive, tan dog, hyperactive and ready for a jog. The man clicked a leash on the dog and they bounded off into the woods just behind the car. A swift pace stated that they would not be long on their outing.

The weather was pleasant for most anything but hiking. Temperatures in the mid-eighties with clear skies make for a hot day on the trail. The air stood thick with humidity, but not so thick that breathing becomes labored. In those conditions it takes about five and a half minutes for perspiration to soak through two layers of clothes, leaving the form of a backpack in sweat lines.

The entry point of the Foothills Trail into the woods is marked by an old, wooden sign just large enough to read within fifty feet. The hike from Table Rock State Park to Fish Hatchery Road is littered with grand vistas and steep mountainsides. Foothills takes you up Pinnacle Mountain, over to Sassafras Mountain (the highest in South Carolina), up and down the Jocassee Gorges, over the Toxaway River and then drops out of the forest on Fish Hatchery Road. The quiet nature of the spot can mislead the novice hiker into believing that Foothills is no challenge, but difficult travels are on either side of the road. A four foot wide gap in the trees points in the direction of the river and to another awe-inspiring expedition.

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Chattooga - Part 4

...continued from Monday, October 16...

The road to the fish hatchery is a winding, never-ending path down into the valley. After seeming miles of twisted, barely-two-lane back road, one finds the Oconee fish hatchery with its long, narrow pools brimming with beautiful, silver trout. It’s been said, “Give a man a fish; feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish; feed him for a lifetime.” A good tagline might be, “Show a man how to get to the fish hatchery; feed him without teaching him a darn thing.” The vehicles pulled off only yards down the road, a long way from the angler’s paradise.

The Foothills Trail makes its crossing of Fish Hatchery Road at a small pull off. Five cars could fit in the area if they were perfectly placed. The white sedan came to a stop on the far right side of the small clearing. Legs stretched after an hour of driving, almost mocking the trail which stood only yards away. Those same legs would be aching in a day’s time, wishing for a hot, soaking shower and a long sleep.

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Chattooga - Part 3

...continued from Saturday, October 14...

Mountain curves slalomed lazily back and forth through the countryside, rising higher with each turn. Issaqueena passed as she had many times before. Scenic overlooks, marked by small parking areas, are void of viewers at such an early time. A few hours later and vehicles would be driving by slow looking for places to park for the grand views.

The bridge over the Chattooga. Georgia state line. The cars parked just beyond the bridge in a small, gravel parking area lot along with several fishermen’s trucks. One backpack transfer later, a single car pulled out of leaving the other to “sit for a spell”.

Several miles back down Highway 28, a fork in the road awaits our left turn. Heading up Highway 170, the pavement narrows and the esses grow tighter. Climbing into the mountains, the automobiles snake by Burrell’s Ford and Oconee State Park.

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Chattooga - Part 2

...continued from Friday, October 13...

Morning packing measures included locating the last toiletries and completing a mental checklist of items at least twenty eight times. No amount of packing, repacking and confirmation of supplies can assuage the anxiety of leaving something behind…and not without good reason. “Change of clothes – check; extra socks – check; food, food and more food – check; maps – check; compass – check; BFK ‘Big Friggin’ Knife’ – check; trash bags for ‘Pack it in, pack it out’ – check; foam sleeping pad – check; 50 degree liner – check. That’s it…right? Ummmm. Ok, go through it one more time.”

The bags and bodies migrated to the cars and it was off to find sustenance for the rest of the morning. McDonald’s breakfast combos make an acceptable morning meal. Sausage biscuits and hash browns on both sides of the table were quickly consumed and the drive continued. Clemson disappeared and Seneca neared.

Middle class homeowners were already at home improvement stores buying fix-it-yourself items and lawn care products. The cars passed Lowes and turned just before Home Depot. Highway 28 took the tiny caravan through the tired town of Walhalla, a community still fighting the War Between the States and winning by many accounts.

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Chattooga - Part 1

Chattooga is a semi-fiction short story account of a hike that Andrew Pierce and I made this summer. The Chattooga Trail is a 15 mile trek that follows the famous river along the South Carolina-Georgia border. I hope you enjoy the story.

A light morning fog hovered in the distance, but would soon disappear with the hot, summer sun which peeked just over the pines. Preparations weeks in advance had been made for an adventure to come…which would be just that. Money spent was justified as necessary expense. Who wants to be stranded in the mountains without ten pounds of beef jerky?

Backpacks full and heavy sat inert in anticipation for the journey and their first true test of worth. Forgotten articles would not have fit anyway; at least that was the sentiment and justification afterwards. Good sleep was interrupted early and is as valuable as anything that can be packed. It would have been nice to have crammed in a couple more hours.

“To sleep; to dream…” When Shakespeare compared death to sleep, he could have said it vice versa. A sleep so deep that one is merely dead and dreaming. Even after climbing out of bed, one is not alive. “To sleep; to dream…” and Yeats then argued, “but I…have naught but my dreams.” If only dreams were reality, the trip would have been flawless - flora and fauna welcoming all visitors like in a Disney movie song. A nice, hot shower moves the mind from groggy, ethereal dreams to the awakened reality of the day.

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