Bushwhacking: Lessons Learned

One of the most exciting ways to explore the mountains and valleys of my home here in North Georgia, is to leave the trail, and bushwhack. You push your way through the forest,whether it consists of dense, choking Laurel and Rhododendron thickets, blow down areas where wind felled trees temporarily block your path, or the classic canopy/forest floor combination. These areas are rarely traveled by man, and you find yourself wondering, 'when was the last time somebody was present in this exact spot?' It's all very neat to explore, not to mention quite a workout. However, some basic rules should be followed, which I found out the hard way.

I recently purchased a quality GPS and couldn't wait to take it into the wilderness as a guide, using the topo maps to direct me to the most gentle approaches to the ridge tops. I decided to enter the National Forest land near the house, make my way up the long first ridge to the summit of the eastern Hullander Knob, traverse a saddle feature, then up the steep slopes of the western Hullander Knob, then follow the ridge top to Mine Mountain, then the steep ascent down to Hwy 76. Easy enough, right? 

If you are planning a day hike excursion, allow yourself enough daylight to complete the trip. I mapped out a route that appeared to be a little over three miles. I usually can cover three miles an hour on an improved trail, so when I left at 3:30pm there wasn't much of a concern that I would run out of daylight. Being somewhat prepared I made sure to pack my flashlight hat just in case. This turned out to be a lifesaving act.

Do not try to apply a "trail pace" to bushwhacking on ridge tops.  Trails generally follow the contour of the land, with a few ascents and descents. When you are traveling the ridge tops, you are going straight up a mountain, then straight down the other side, then straight up the next peak. Simply put, it is exhausting.

By the time I reached the saddle position between the two knobs, it was 6:15pm and dusk was rapidly making its exit. I had to make a decision whether to continue my planned route, or abort the route and drop down into the bottom of Hullander Cove, find the creek and follow it until I hit familiar territory near Collins Lane. I chose the latter. The thought of making my way down a steep slope in the dark was not appealing. I barely managed to complete the 800' drop (which was quite steep in itself) down to the creek bed before darkness required me to put on my flashlight hat.

Following the creek down the cove became an exercise in clearing brush with my face. The foliage was so thick in places, that I had to double back several times and find a new route because the briars were impenetrable. My GPS unit showed a road on the other side of the creek, so I crossed and began the climb up the opposite bank. I kept climbing expecting to find a distinct grade and gravel base, to no avail. Finally I checked the GPS again and it showed that, to my shock, the road had been crossed already. So, back down I went and realized that the "road" was barely a road at all, but a long ago abandoned logging road that consisted of nothing more than a slight cut that was overgrown with underbrush and a downed tree every 100' or so. There's nothing like being exhausted and forced to run a steeplechase in the dark.

It took two hours past dark before I stumbled out of the woods and into a 100' wide power line cut. In between the fog of my breath as it passed through the hat light, the unobstructed sky was clear and full of the most beautiful stars. The absence of the light pollution of civilization had something to do with their beauty, but mostly it was because I knew I was going to be home shortly, enjoying a hot shower.

To wrap it up, my basic tips for safe bushwhacking include starting early, giving yourself time to be finished before dark; always carry a light source; and make sure you have extra batteries for your GPS ( I will talk about that one in the next post).