Sheltowee Trace - Big South Fork Area (Days 1-3)

Prehike Thoughts:

Six months and eight days ago, I completed the 2,185-mile Appalachian Trail, a journey that lasted 205 days. Since then, I gained back the 25 to 30 pounds of body weight I had lost, my callused feet are once again smooth, and I've gotten soft from too much inactivity. Has my passion for hiking long distance trails run its course?

Today, we'll see. I discovered the Sheltowee Trace, Kentucky's "long trail," while visiting with family in Kentucky, and I decided to take it on. It's a 319-mile trek from the Big South Fork National River and Recreation Area in Tennessee all the way through the Daniel Boone National Forest in Kentucky. It features lots of caves, waterfalls, and other natural beauty. The ascents are nothing close to those along the Appalachian Trail. I'm not sure how far I will go. I'm getting started a bit later than I'd hoped because of the flooding rains in these parts, and I need to get back to Maryland soon.

"Sheltowee" is an Indian word meaning "turtle"

Day 1 - 4/11/15

Dad and Mom drove me from Danville, Kentucky the couple hours into Tennessee, with a breakfast stop at the McDonald's in Somerset. We turned off U.S. 27 south of Oneida, Tennessee, and with each subsequent turn, I felt my mother's panic level raise a little more as we went deeper into what she would consider "the land of crazed hillbillies." The road became gravel, and soon we came to the Burnt Mill Bridge crossing over the Big South Fork of the Cumberland River. Next to the newer bridge stood the rusted remains and skeleton of the old steel truss bridge.

Burnt Mill Bridge, southern terminus since Oct. 2014

In the parking area, there was an outhouse and a kiosk with information about the trail. The first 14 miles or so is a newly extended section of  the Sheltowee as of six months ago. It follows existing parts of the Burnt Mill Loop, the Honey Creek Loop, and the John Muir Trail. A pickup truck pulled up and nobody got out. Mom assumed it to be a serial murderer, but I'm sure it was a volunteer waiting for the rest of his group to arrive before doing trail maintenance.

Let's do this!

We said our good-byes, they drove off, and I got started. About 15 pounds of my 40+ pound backpack is food. I'm not sure about resupply options along the way, so my folks plan to meet me at Cumberland Falls State Park in about nine days with my resupply box, which I've prepared in advance. This is too much weight for me to carry comfortably, and fortunately, the ascents are not too challenging early on. Several miles in, I nearly missed the turnoff toward the Honey Creek Loop, and I would have ended up back where I started.

Around 1:30, I stopped and sat on a log for a snack and water break. This first three hours were not as much fun as I had hoped. The forest was just the forest, the smells did not excite me, and I was already very tired. Even the Snickers bar and cheese crackers, staples of my diet for the better part of last year, did not taste good. I was already salty and grumpy. The only good thing so far was that I had picked a beautiful day to begin. It was a Saturday, yet I hadn't seen another human since back at the parking lot.

Honey Creek Falls

The trail crossed over a gravel road and there were a few vehicles parked there near the Honey Creek Overlook. Two young guys greeted me. They were from Nashville, Sheep and Griffin. They were doing an overnight trip and camping somewhere along the loop. They invited me to come along, adding that it would add about five miles and an extra day to my trip. I thought for a second and remembered that life is all about experiences and relationships. "Yeah, I'll go!" I said.

Sheep and Griffin kept me amused for an afternoon

We got started along a stretch that was still part of my intended route. The guys handed me a cold Coors beer. My day was getting better. The next few miles along Honey Creek was beautiful, with lots of ledges and caves, many with streams flowing from the crest into the gorge below. We stopped several times to enjoy these amazing features. My two mates had hiked on the Appalachian Trail a year before I did. Sheep is an I.T. Tech, married with their first baby on the way. Griffin had recently quit his restaurant job, been in a car accident, and had no money. Griffin seemed to be starving, as every time I looked, he was scarfing down snack food from Sheep's pack. I gave him some food from my huge stash, too. We came across a few small groups, families out enjoying the gorge.

The Honey Creek Loop is a very popular day hike

As we trudged forward, Sheep sensed that they had gone the wrong way, even though I was still on my correct route. They needed to back track. We each had a shot of Captain Morgan's rum and then said good-bye. I was lucky to run into these two and share some fellowship, if only for the afternoon.

Lots of rock cairns stacked up in this big cave

I was high above the gorge now, with only a half liter of water. I wanted to make it to a water source to camp, but it would be dark soon. I was really tired and groggy. I sucked on a hard candy, and the sugar seemed to improve my situation. I came to a picnic table and sat for a minute. I remembered the guys had given me a second Coors beer. That along with the little bit of water on hand would have to do. I was not going to risk hiking back down into the gorge this close to nightfall. I sat up my tent, very sore in my back, legs, and all over. I was too tired and thirsty to eat, but forced myself to choke down some Spam and Frito's.

Shortly after 8:30, I was relieved to get tucked into my sleeping bag. It was quiet, except for the roar of a river in the distance. I recall on the A.T. how amazed I was when a good night's sleep would remove all the aches and pains, and I hoped this would also be the case now because I was hurting. Plus, I noticed a dime-sized blister on the inside of my right heel.

Day 2 - 4/12/15

I woke up a few times during the night, but only long enough to change position and fall back asleep. Once, I woke to bright moonlight on my door flap. The next time, it was dim daylight. My body still needed time to repair the damage I had done to it, so I went back to sleep until well after 8:00 a.m., a solid 11 hours of sleep! For breakfast, I enjoyed pop tarts, trail mix, and yes, a Coors beer! The last swallow of water was used to brush the teeth. A day hiker came by as I was journaling and told me I was about four miles from Leatherwood Ford, which is the spot where the Sheltowee began last year, before the extension opened. That means I hiked about 10 miles yesterday, not bad for the first day, I suppose.

Soon into my hike, I noticed a nice cave that would have been a nice place to camp, then a stream, the first good water source in a few miles. I filtered two liters, one of which I drank immediately. I came to another beautiful waterfall but became disappointed that I had to clean up after litterbugs along the way. The next feature would be the O & W Railroad bridge (Ohio and Western), once used by the Blue Heron Coal Company during the region's coal mining heyday. Now it is a weathered steel truss with wooden pavers.  There is a weight limit; I don't think I would ever drive across it, but it's OK for walking. The trail follows the Big South Fork downstream a couple miles to Leatherwood Ford. I met Mr. and Mrs. Pickett, who gave me a Coke, snack crackers, and a jar of cured garlic cloves. They once volunteered for a trail maintenance group. Today they were out to identify wildflowers.

The O&W Bridge

The Picketts, outdoor enthusiasts and trail angels

I spent a good hour at the parking area, and it was quite busy with lots of weekenders. It's a little warmer today, so I'm forcing calories and drinking lots of water. The Picketts told me about a big climb coming up across the Leatherwood Bridge (TN-297). I used the restroom facility and watered up at the spigot before setting off in the direction of Bandy Creek Campground and the Ranger Station there.

Get your calories!

The low water bridge that takes the John Muir Trail and the Sheltowee Trace back across the Big South Fork is partially washed away, and the temporary reroute takes it across the paved highway bridge. Then the trail follows the river downstream. There are a great number of trees knocked down from an ice storm that did much damage to this region last month. This is frustrating for hikers, as much time and energy is exhausted climbing over, under, and between the fallen branches.

Trail rerouted, for obvious reasons

After a couple miles, the trail meets the mouth of Fall Branch and follows it a bit. There was an awesome campsite there. Two hammocks were strung at the east end. I decided to take a break at the west end. The two men later returned from further along the trail. It might have been a dad with a 20ish-aged son. After more than an hour break, I decided to move on, since it was only about 4:30 and I did not feel like crashing the party. Less than a half-mile later was another campsite. I referred to the trail guide I brought, which starts from the Leatherwood Ford, previous southern terminus of the Sheltowee Trace. I went left at what the guide called a switchback and proceeded along the river once again. A half-hour later, I was trying to convince myself I was going the right way, when deep down, I knew I was not. I turned around to return to the campsite I'd passed. Along the way, I spotted my Orioles cap; a tree branch must have grabbed it while I was bushwacking my own trail through the brambles and river debris. Once I got back to the camp, I realized my mistake. The switchback heads steeply up to the top of the bluff.

By now, it was 6:00 p.m., so I sat up my camp. The blister from yesterday invited some friends along; there are now about four of them. The two big ones on the inside of each heal have popped, but they are very tender. Other than that, the aches have been nothing that ibuprofen can't cure.

I had a big dinner; first, beans and franks in a pouch. Then, I fried some of the garlic Mr. Pickett gave me and added water and stuffing mix. I guess it was a bit past 9:00 when I went to sleep. I only hiked about six miles today, plus about 1.5 bonus miles of bushwacking.

Day 3 - 4/13/15

It's Monday, so I doubt I'll see a lot of people out for a few days. I got moving after 9am and started on the switchbacks up that cliff. If there is a big climb, I prefer to do it first thing while I'm rested. Near the top, things got tricky. It looked like the trail required a butt slide down a six-foot drop off, so I did it. Then there was no more trail. I must have missed another switchback, and getting up there would be lot harder than getting down. Plus there was a steep drop from the cliff right behind me. I threw my pack and poles up there. Then I grabbed a root and hoped it would support my weight. It did, but a pointy branch caught my shirt at the right shoulder. I could not get all the way up, but I sure as hell was not going to let go. While holding the root with my right hand, I reached my left hand over and tugged hard, tearing a hole in my shirt and freeing me from a potentially terrible plight.

From Angel Falls Overlook

Glad I didn't fall off this thing

My day got better. Overcast conditions made for pleasant hiking and the giant rock shelters carved into the sandstone over millions of years were truly amazing to experience up close. The trail was not too demanding, and I stopped for a quick break at Falls Branch Falls. A few sprinkles fell, so I broke out the pack cover to protect my things.

Doing some spelunking

Nice shelter!

Dam beavers

I finally reached the Bandy Creek Campground at about 1:30, but it might have been 2:30. The dividing line for Eastern and Central time zones runs right through the park. I checked in with Ranger Bill there, and I bought a $5 back country camping permit, back dated from April 11 and I figured I'd be out of the park before April 21 (the Big South Fork Park extends into McCreary County, Kentucky). Bill directed me to a vending machine, and I enjoyed a Mellow Yellow, and then a Coke. I bought a Dr. Pepper for later. It seems my craving for sugary soft drinks has kicked back in.

My phone won't work here, and I'm told Sprint won't work until I'm well into Kentucky. But Bill let me have the wifi password, and I was able to let everyone know I'm OK via Facebook, Twitter, and email to Dad & Mom. I think I fixed my GPS tracker so people will know where I am as of the last time my phone is on.

I hung out a long time, and a steady rain had begun. I decided to hike on toward the Charit Creek Lodge, and Bill said they can accommodate walk-in guests without reservations. He said it was five mile, and I thought I could get there by no later than 7pm. The trail out of the campground and for a couple miles is shared with horseback riders. It was a sloppy mess in the rain. At one point, my left foot sunk ankle deep in a mud and horse shit mixture which quickly filled the inside of my shoe. Then it was gravel multi-use roadway. The rain continued. Ranger Bill had printed for me an extended forecast with nothing but rain. "A week from Wednesday doesn't look bad!" I chimed, with sarcastic optimism.

When the road met Laurel Creek, there was no bridge, just 20 yards of what looked to be mid-thigh deep water, but not moving swiftly. Since my shoes were already literally full of shit, I just marched through. Soon, there were three more streams to ford, but only ankle deep.

The lodge is accessible only by foot or horseback

I started seeing the signs to Charit Creek Lodge: 2.6 miles, then 1.1 miles, then .8 miles. I stopped on an uphill to drink the Dr. Pepper I'd packed, and sat in the rain for five minutes or so. It looked like a fog was rolling in, but it was only the steam rolling off my body.

I made my way down a long series of switchbacks to the Charit Creek Lodge and introduced myself to Greg, the proprietor. He is a former restaurateur from Knoxville. I had arrived just as dinner was about to be served. I took a moment to acknowledge my great fortune in the way this timed out on what would have been a rotten night to sleep in the tent. There were three other guests, a couple ladies and their mother, all from the Knoxville area. The dinner table was set on the back porch with a couple lanterns lit, and they set a fourth place for me. I apologized for not having had time to clean up before dinner, but nobody seemed to mind. The food Greg prepared was amazing, all comfort foods, chicken and dumplings, mac and cheese, asparagus casserole, cornbread, blueberry cobbler... holy cow! This had to be the highlight of my trip so far.

After dinner, around dusk, Greg took us on a history tour of the ranch, which dates dates back to the 1700's when long rifle hunters from Virginia and North Carolina stayed here. Everything is very rustic. There is no electricity. They pump water from a well with a propane generator, and lighting is provided by kerosene lamps hung in each guest house. Tonight, I have to myself a cabin which sleeps 10, and I'm writing my journal and imagining that this is how Thomas Jefferson did it, a handwritten journal with the dim glow of a lantern. But the fuel is running out, and I need to get some rest for more rainy hiking tomorrow. Hooray!

Greg talks about the 200 year old structures on the property

Carvings date back to days of widespread illiteracy

My personal cabin for the night... life is good!

If you are ever exploring Big South Fork, please do yourself a favor and check out Charit Creek Lodge. It is really a unique treat!

About 11 miles today, more or less.

Cheers,
Fitty Shrimp

TO BE CONTINUED...
Next Post: BSF Day 4-10