Day 4 - 4/14/15
The day started with the ringing of the dinner bell up at the dining area of Charit Creek Lodge, signifying that it was nearly 8am. I had a so-so night. I woke at 2am with some coughing and sinus drainage. The rain was pelting softly outside the cabin. I took a couple sinus gel-caps from my first-aid kit. Within an hour, I was sleeping soundly. The hot shower before bedtime did wonders for my psyche, and I washed my hiking clothes the best I could in the shower.
Charit Creek Lodge, very rustic, very cool! |
Greg prepared an awesome breakfast for me and the three Knoxville ladies. The biscuits and gravy were the best! Greg said he did not have a busy week set up, and I contemplated taking a "zero day" here. He gave me some "moleskin" for my blisters; I went to the cabin to work on my feet. The blisters had all popped except one, which I stuck a pin through and drained. I think I'll be OK now.
Breakfast is served! |
Greg invited me to stay another day to care for my feet, but I decided to get packed and move on. I paid my very reasonable bill and left some tip money for the staff. Greg asked my goal for the day, and in typical thru-hiker fashion, I replied, "Forward movement." We looked at a large map and studied my day. Four miles of muddy horse trail back to the Big South Fork River, then four miles of muddy horse trail downstream, heading north. Then west again, up to Chestnut Ridge. To make it to John Muir Overlook would be at least a 10-mile day.
These feet? |
I cannot say enough good things about my stay at Charit Creek Lodge. If you ever have the chance to stay there, do it!
Bye Booger, and Bye Charit Creek! |
Rain began as I made my way late in the morning. My feet were very tender so I took small steps through giant puddles. Rain picked up in intensity as I approached the river and continued heavy for at least an hour. I looked for a dry place to make lunch, but there was none. I sat on my pack for a moment, thinking that I could be on the couch reading a book. Then it occurred to me that I would be reading a book about somebody doing pretty much what I'm doing now. Since I would rather create my own experiences, I got up and moved on.
Virginia bluebells (Mertensia virginica) |
Great white trillium (Trillium grandiflorum) |
The trail met a creek and followed it to the west a short distance before a footbridge crossing. I thought this must be the No Business Creek, as in "I have no business being out here in these conditions." As the trail led back east, I noticed rock ledges and shelters up the sloped terrain. I decided to push on in the rain rather than try to scamper up the steep and slippery hill. But the trail looped back around directly in front of the rock shelter. This must be fate. There was plenty of dry space in which to spread out my things. There was even a small stream entering from the back wall of the cave and dividing the shelter, a perfect water source. That was that. I would camp here overnight. I spread a small tarp, inflated my air mattress, and laid down for a great nap as the rain fell several feet away. This was really no different that the shelters on the Appalachian Trail, except this one was not man-made. I'm told native Indians once used these cave for shelter, Indian caves, the locals call them. If it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me!
Cowboy camping in an Indian cave |
After my nap, I fixed some Ramen noodles with peanut butter and hot sauce, then filtered enough water from the stream for the night. Dusk fell, and I would be sheltered from rain for a second straight night. I believe the unsettled weather pattern is to continue for many more days.
About six miles today.
Day 5 - 4/15/15
I couldn't tell if it was raining because of the water dripping over the edge of the rock shelter. Regardless, it was a damp and gray morning, so I elected to lay around a while. I had some pop tarts and hot chocolate before I got packed up. Nobody had come by the shelter in the 18 hours or so that I had occupied it, not surprising.
My hike started late in the morning, and it was not raining after all. I hiked uphill at first to some ledges known as Maude's Crack (hehe), and then back down to a creek. The trail followed an abandoned gravel road with a couple fords across swollen tributaries. There were remnants of an old homestead, moss covered cornerstones and banged up wash tubs strewn about. Then another ascent, several hundred feet to the John Muir Overlook. It looked like a good spot for a lunch break, so I stripped to my shorts and laid everything on the rocks to dry. I laid on my tarp for a brief nap, using my backpack for a pillow.
John Muir Overlook |
Later in the day, the brief bursts of sunshine gave way to some light showers. I found a spot near a stream, suitable enough to pitch my tent. The showers did not last long. I cooked a delicious meal of chicken and potatoes with some of Mr. Pickett's garlic. I noticed a huge dead tree across the trail from my tent. It was an old hemlock that had been dead for quite a long time, its trunk ravaged by woodpeckers and other forest denizens. I was hoping the tree would stay standing at least one more day, as its likely trajectory would be right onto my campsite.
Today, I had wrapped duct tape around the balls of each foot, and it helped a little. As I tucked myself in just before nightfall, a whippoorwill started singing. I found the earplugs I'd brought along just for this occasion. But the bird did not stay long.
Maybe eight miles today?
Day 6 - 4/16/15
While changing into my sleep clothes last night, I picked a speck from my shoulder. It started crawling up my finger. It was my first tick. I'm sure there will be many more.
I did not sleep well and was anxious for daybreak so I could just get going. But dawn arrived with a bang. No fewer than four thundershowers rolled through over the next few hours. The third one had not so much rain, but the intense lightning was striking all around me. The fourth storm brought a lot of rain. I stayed in the tent all morning, thinking about that big dead tree. I did not break camp until 1:30 p.m.
Pinxter flower azalea (Rhododendron periclymenoides) |
I have not seen another human since I left Charit Creek two days ago. It's Mom's birthday. I'm sure she's worried I have not called, but my phone just won't work out here. Last year on the Appalachian Trail, there were many wet and awful days. But there would always be other hikers to commiserate with. It sucked very much on many instances, but our battle cry was always to "Embrace the Suck!" On this trail, there are no other hikers to share in the misery.
Cup fungi (Peziza) |
The hike today was especially terrible. Everything was covered with wet leaves. Beneath the leaves was soggy muddy ground. All the rain made me weary of the Rock Creek ford, which must be not far away. It is said to be a sketchy crossing even at normal depths, the most notorious stream crossing on all of the Sheltowee Trace. About a mile in, the recently extended Sheltowee Trace on which I've been traveling meets up with the original trail, which is now a spur trail southwestward to Pickett State Park, the original southern terminus. I thought about going the eight miles or so to the park and calling for someone to come get me. But I moved on.
The trail came to the point where it follows Rock Creek northward for several miles. At some point, I will walk across it. But not when it is raging like it is today, no way!
I believe I am in Kentucky now. I took a very bad spill after slipping on a moss covered rock. I composed myself and got going again, my knee a little sore from twisting at an awkward angle. Once I got moving, I noticed I had badly bent one of my trekking poles in the fall. I straightened it the best I could. Soon, I slipped again. I couldn't have been more than three miles into my day. But I decided to quit for the day rather than risk serious injury. Maybe things will dry out by tomorrow, and perhaps the creek will recede a bit.
Red Trillium, or "Stinking Benjamin" (Trillium erectus) |
I went high up the hillside above the creek to find a spot dry enough to camp. I got set up just as some sprinkles came through. While I was resting in my tent, the sun came out, and the air felt much drier. Three ticks were crawling around on the rain fly of my tent, trying to penetrate my defense systems.
I changed out of my stinky hiking clothes. My torn shirt reeks of B.O., my shorts smell like ammonia, like a cat pissed on them. The socks are a medley of creek water, clay, sweat, and blister pus.
For dinner, I cooked up some couscous with taco seasoning, added a package of prepared chili with beans, threw in some jalapeno sauce and crushed Fritos, and enjoyed a great Mexican feast, minus the margarita.
I'm not getting great sleep because I have to re-position every 20 minutes or so to get comfortable. I need to come up with a solution to this issue. I got up to piss in the middle of the night and the sky was clear and crisp. Perhaps the rainy weather is done for now.
Day 7 - 4/17/15
I got packed and back down the hill to the trail relatively early. Unlike on the A.T., there are no go-getters out at the break of dawn knocking down all the spider webs; I get to do the honors here. The hillsides were a little less landslide-ish today, but still a mess. The Rock Creek seems more of a greenish hue today, and not the angry, muddy beast it was yesterday. As it turns out, the trail does not ford Rock Creek here at all, so all that worrying was for nothing. Still, it was slow moving, with uncertain footing at every step. Plus, this part of the trail does not get much traffic, so it's hard to follow. Several times, it seemed to just end, and it was tough to find anything that resembled a foot path. But eventually, I would always come across one of those turtle symbols on a tree, letting me know I was back on track.
The trail turned away from Rock Creek and after a lunch break, I followed the tributary to the southeast. For the most part, I was walking in the stream - that was where the trail was, and it was the only way through. But the cold water felt good and numbed the aches in my torn up feet.
After a while, there was the roar of falling water. When I turned the bend, the most amazing waterfall was crashing over the rim of a tall rock shelter high above and into a beautiful green pool below. There was a rickety decaying staircase leading out of the gorge, and several huge blow downs to maneuver for the next half mile or so. I'm guessing not many tourists come to check out the falls because of the difficulty getting to it. But I thoroughly enjoyed it!
Unnamed waterfall... |
Breathtaking! |
More blow downs, big nuisance and time killer |
I finally reached a place where three gravel forestry roads meet at a place where once stood Peter's Mountain Lookout Tower. Now there is a picnic table and restroom, but no running water. I stopped to dry out my belongings, even my shoes and socks as much as possible, to prepare for a section where much of the trail follows gravel roads.
It was there that I saw the first humans I'd seen in more than three days. Two guys on a motorcycle trip stopped in, one from Asheville, NC and the other from Owensboro, KY. They both graduated from Burgin High School, about the same time I graduated from neighboring Boyle County High. The best part of this was that one of them had a phone signal and let me call to check in briefly with Mom & Dad. They told me the weather report looks good for a couple days. I guess I'm about 14 miles from the store at Yamacraw Bridge, so I'm hoping to get there sometime tomorrow (Saturday).
Biker buds with phone service! |
The bikers drove off, and I got started on the gravel road, which I believe is Laurel Ridge Rd. I was able to make good time for a change. When you're on foot, you really notice all the trash that people chuck out their car windows. This is a scarcely traveled road, but I could not believe how many bud light cans there were.
An hour or so before dark, I found a nice quiet spot for camp, off an abandoned and overgrown side road. I set up camp and enjoyed a supper of beef jerky, stuffing with cranberries, and a mangled apple pastry. The sky turned amazing hues of blue and orange.
My new sleep strategy is to put more stuff under the head of my air mattress to prop it up more. There were whippoorwills in the area, and they were joined by frogs in a nearby pond. An owl even joined in the chorus. I tried to enjoy the show and imagined they had rehearsed for quite a while in case a visitor popped in some evening. I quickly went to sleep. When I got up to pee hours later, I was awestruck by the clear, moonless sky, full of brightly blazing stars. It was my best sleep of the trip so far.
Day 8 - 4/18/15
Looking at my maps and guide book, it looked like a little over 10 miles to the store at Yamacraw Bridge, KY-92. Also, it looked like I would indeed be fording Rock Creek after all, about a mile before the bridge. But I figured it would be much wider and shallower at that point, near its confluence with Big South Fork.
I was making good time, but since it was warm, about 80F, I took several water breaks. Also, I wanted to keep my feet as dry as possible for as long as possible, as they are really a mess, and I remember A.T. hikers forced off the trail from a condition called "trench foot." But that strategy did not last long, as there were many streams to walk through. The trail left the road a couple miles in and went through a boggy section. It reentered to a different gravel road later, and I went up a long hill. I did not see any turtle blazes for a while. I went through several phases of denial before finally turning back. I found the spot where the trail goes back into the woods and up a mountain.
About this time, I saw a runner coming toward me with the number 78 pinned to his shirt. A race? Out here? Then I met a guy, Drew, with his dog, Chuck. He told me about the 34 mile trail race, and that I would see lots of racers. Over the next few hours, I encountered dozens of trail runners (and walkers). I greeted every one of them and offered encouragement. Some even took time for a quick "stop and chat." I hate to admit it, but it was refreshing to see people who seemed even more miserable than me. The trail was really a mess in the boggy areas will all the foot traffic.
Drew and Chuck gave me the skinny on the race |
My lucky turkey feather |
I found out later that the trail race was the Yamacraw 50K, hosted by McCreary County Tourism. There were over 85 participants doing this, some taking as long as 10 hours to complete the course which ends at the Blue Heron mining community. #78 won the race in a little over five hours, incredible! Here's the race website: Yamacraw 50K
Abandoned coal mine near Blue Heron |
Finally, I came to the Rock Creek. A woman, Grace, was photographing the racers as they were shuttled across in a big rubber raft. Grace, the official photographer of the Yamacraw 50K, offered me her extra B.L.T. sandwich and a big can of Mellow Yellow. I accepted, adding that it is bad karma to turn down trail magic.
Rock Creek, way too high to ford |
Grace, photographer and trail angel |
The shuttle service was provided for the race by Sheltowee Trace Outfitters out of Corbin, Kentucky. The creek, normally knee deep at this spot, was over my head deep. As the last of the racers trickled through, Grace and I were ferried to the north side of the creek. I could not thank them enough. And I could not believe my good luck and timing. If I had arrived here any other day, or just a couple hours later, there would have been no way to cross Rock Creek. With no phone service or knowledge of the area, I'm not sure what I would have done. Still can't believe my good fortune! Please check out the good people at Sheltowee Trace Outfitters if you're planning on embarking on any outdoor adventure in Southern Kentucky. Here is their website: Sheltowee Trace Outfitters
The creek shuttle had to be a nice break from a 50K race |
Some of the good folks from Sheltowee Trace Outfitters (take care of that lucky feather, kid!) |
I finally arrived at the store around 4:00 p.m. and stayed for a couple hours, enjoying pizza, ice cream, and several soft drinks. A lot of locals from rural McCreary County stopped in and I got a pretty good feel for the culture of the region and what Saturday evenings are like around here. I met several people who were interested in my journey, including three young fisherman, a McCreary Central H.S. football player and his dad, a grandma and several family members who seemed to be more or less involved in the operation of the store. They sell a lot of bait and cigarettes.
K&T Railway bridge (Ky. and Tenn.) |
They bite better when the water is high |
Lil' South Fork General Store |
After some begging and pleading, the lady who runs the place gave me the wifi internet password so I could check my email and such. I learned that a new tenant wants to move into my Baltimore property on May 1st, so I need to figure all of that out. Also, more rain is on the way starting late tonight through much of Sunday. I noticed in my trail guide that the Cotton Patch Shelter is about a five mile hike from here. So I packed up and said my goodbyes to the store folk.
Big South Fork Cumberland River from Yamacraw Bridge |
Yamacraw Bridge at KY-92 |
I crossed the bridge to the east shore of Big South Fork, first time on the east side since a week ago, and proceeded northward. The trail was still muddy in many places, runoff from the past week's rains. Skies seemed to be clouding up from south to north. More urgently, it was getting dark. I was sure I had missed the turnoff for the shelter, but finally I reached it, about 8:30 p.m. I got out of my sweaty clothes and drank a root beer I'd packed, but I was too tired to work on the three slices of pizza. On a Saturday night, I thought there might be others in the shelter, but I had it to myself. It was in good repair, but needed a broom and a good sweeping. I laid out my tarp and made up my bed on it. I hooted back and forth with an owl. Occasionally, I could hear a fish jump out in the swollen river, or a turtle hop from a log into the water.
Cotton Patch Shelter above the river |
All in all, it was a pretty good day, warm and dry weather, lots of people out on the trail. This is Kentucky coal country. The trail sometimes follows old rail beds built to carry coal cars back in the day. The side of the trail is still littered with chunks of coal in these sections. I passed by two abandoned coal mines with signs warning about the dangers of entering them. Even though it was one of the few dry days, my feet were still soaked because of all the stream crossings.
Along with wet feet, the blowdowns have been another source of frustration. Some have been there quite a long time and some are fairly recent. With so much rain and soggy ground, the root systems simply give way to gravity and the tree comes crashing. And when a large tree falls, it will usually bring down six or eight others with it. Imagine hiking along and coming upon a mangled mess of tree trunks and branches strewn in a maze across the trail. Sometimes you can bushwack around it, but more times than not, the best option is to just work through it. On the Appalachian Trail, we took for granted the work of all the trail maintainers and volunteers who spent their weekends chainsawing through all the blowdowns. I now have a new respect and appreciation for all their work.
An extra ten minutes to work through this mess of fallen trees |
Day 9 - 4/19/15
I think I'll sleep in today |
Light rain arrived overnight. At dawn, it continued. Light or moderate rain fell most of the morning. I stayed in my warm, dry bed in the shelter. I had a cinnamon roll and a slice of pizza for breakfast while looking out on the river, with one lone dogwood in bloom near the shelter. I hiked about 15 miles yesterday and my soles were tortured. I decided to take half a sick day to rest them. I think I'm only about nine miles to the place where the trail passes US-27, and the Yahoo Falls (pronounced Yay-who by the locals) is just a few miles into the days hike.
I finished off the pizza and packed up early in the afternoon. After sloshing along a couple miles, I stopped at the Alum Springs Campground to filter some water. It was already 4:00 p.m.; I guess it was later than I thought when the rain stopped and I left the shelter. I came to the Yahoo Falls, and I must say, I expected more, based on all the hoopla. I'm not sure I would rank it in the top five waterfalls I've seen on this hike, even though it is reported to be the tallest in Kentucky. (Note: Later, I realized that what I thought was Yahoo Falls was probably not. I believe the Yahoo access trail, which I bypassed, was where I needed to go... maybe next time!)
The trail presented more mud and blowdown challenges. That evening, the trail veered away from the Big South Fork and up the Big Creek. At this point, I say goodbye to the Big South Fork National River and Recreation Area. The rest of the Sheltowee Trace is within Daniel Boone National Forest. I'm impressed with the beauty and natural features in the Big South Fork park. I had no idea all of this could be found so close to Central Kentucky.
I found a nice campsite and got set up before dark. I fixed a great supper of salmon, potatoes, and garlic. It looked like it would be a nice night to leave the rain fly off the tent, but as I was washing dishes and filtering water, some dark clouds seemed to be making dusk darker than it should be. I got my camp storm-proofed and climbed in just as more rain started. There was a little thunder, and I couldn't help but think about all those trees that had fallen on the hillsides.
It rained most of the night, and then again just before dawn. As I laid awake, I decided that if I could get a phone signal at US-27, I would call my folks to see if they could come get me. It was about four miles away.
Day 10 - 4/20/15
Hooray! |
The rain stopped and I was packed and ready to go around 10:00 a.m. More of the same, mud, creek crossings, blowdowns. There was one awesome feature, a cave with waterfalls. The trail sometimes followed gravel ATV roads, and there was an excess of trash. I passed a cabin on one such stretch. In front of it, remnants of a bonfire and dozens of empty beer cans and bottles. Pity that they were able to get the full ones down there but could not get the empties out.
One last sweet water feature |
From another angle |
This makes me sad |
I reached US-27 after noon. At first, it seemed my phone would not work here. I sat in the pavilion at the Flat Rock Church. I tried again, and my call went through, much to my surprise (and delight!) I talked to Mom and said I'm ready to take some zero days, explaining that it's just too muddy and miserable. She said that she and Dad would pick me up in a couple hours.
Good place to stop |
I'll be back one day to explore the portion of the Sheltowee Trace that traverses the Daniel Boone National Forest.
I find it fascinating how this reads, to my limited exposure at least, so similarly to accounts of travellers in frontier days. A simple function of the activity I suppose, where your daily experience is dictated by the weather, condition of the trail, availability of sheltered spots, and your supply of food. Nice to know that a qualitative connection with our forefathers is so readily accessible.
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