A few days ago I had one of "those experiences" that simply cannot be captured by a photograph, or painted onto a canvas. My fellow outdoor enthusiasts know what I mean. It's usually some phenomena that involves being at THAT place, at THAT very moment, and it is usually over as quickly as it starts. The "double-rainbow" guy certainly knows what I'm talking about.
I was in the woods on a late afternoon hike with the dogs. I have noticed that as we head into March, the after-work hikes no longer involve a double-time pace in order to get out of the woods before full darkness covers us. The angle of the sun's rays are changing, to the point that you can actually see and feel a difference. As the hike began (Miller Trek Trail, again), the sun was still dancing across the fallen leaves that make up the forest floor. The sunlight, still shining yellow down upon the trunks and the tops of the trees, was blazing brightly as I slipped into the forest.
After crossing a few streams and making my way uphill and across the powerline cut, the shadows from the still leafless trees had grown longer. With my back to the sun, I noticed that the groundcover was no longer privy to the warm glow It had been cast, just until sunrise, into the oncoming darkness. Then, I slowly realized that the bright light had faded altogether, making a gigantic leap from low-level light to the dullness of twilight.
I had climbed high enough on the ridge so that when I looked back, I could see that there was a bank of clouds hiding the sun. It was just a thin strip, but enough to block the rays from landing directly at my position. I turned and continued to head upward, deciding to allow Tobey to run off leash with his already loose companion Rocket. I struggled to keep pace with them.
After about five minutes of picking my foot falls carefully (my left knee's strength still being suspect), I sensed a glowing from up on the ridge above me, a very bright light. As I looked up in that direction, the most beautiful mixture of pink and purple was radiating all of the trees from mid trunk up into the naked branches at the top. I looked behind me and saw that the sun, much like a toddler that gets that second wind right before bedtime, was saying, 'Not just yet!'. It had found the last gap of clear sky between the cloudbank and the northern ridge of Ivylog Mountain.
Through that gap came pouring the light, picking up where it left off before, but so much more brilliant this time. Those colors in contrast with the already shadowed forest floor gave the groundcover an eerie, colorless gray, while the pink and purple combination made the upper half of the trees appear as though they were glowing embers. The phrase "For purple mountain majesties..." in America the Beautiful is what I was seeing, right in front of me. Maybe a very expensive camera, or an operator that really knew their f-stops and shutter speeds could capture what I was seeing, but I knew I couldn't. So, I simply watched.
I stood there trying to catch my breath as I watched the colorless gray slowly move up into the treetops nearest me. This continued like a giant blanket moving up the slope claiming the lower elevations first, then the middle ridge, and finally the highest ridge above, as they bid farewell to the sun.
The dogs stood panting on the trail about fifty yards ahead, waiting patiently for me to take a few steps in their direction. This would be the signal to lunge on ahead and find something good to sniff. Now that the bright light was gone, the subtle colors of the forest came back into view...the browns, the light yellows and grays, all reclaiming their positions. A cool wind began to fill the gap where the light was. I zipped the fleece up to my neck and continued on, hoping to avoid the next progression in the daily ritual of color change.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Casualty of a Dog Battle
...This time, I was out getting in a quick walk with the dogs. The roads were dry, no problem there. It was approaching darkness and I just wanted to let them stretch their legs for a bit, get some sniffs in, and take care of business. Our only obstacle to a peaceful stroll would be one of their cousins.
Over the past few months, a new dog has shown up in the 'hood; a brown shaggy-looking mutt that is very territorial of his section of road. Usually he just comes down to the edge of the yard snarling and barking. The problem is when his weiner dog brother is in the yard with him. That yappy little dachshund gives the mutt an extra dose of courage and he ends up in the road, baring his teeth while my large dogs pull forward silently, wishing that I would let 'em at this annoying duo of canine bluster.
On this particular evening, I'd had enough of their threatening charges and decided that a small rock on the backside would put an end, once and for all, of this daily harassment. I heard them coming through the woods, so I stepped into the roadside ditch to find said rock and found nothing but leaves and dirt. They were coming rapidly so I aborted my search to get back up on solid pavement for the latest face-off.
I stepped up onto the pavement with my left foot, which my dogs mistook as an invitation to lunge at their fellow canines. While the entire weight of my body was on my left leg, my right still lifting up out of the ditch, my dogs surged towards the source of irritation. The problem this time was all of the pea gravel left over from the snow events. Ironically, this material is spread to provide traction in icy conditions; when the snow and ice is gone it becomes an impediment to traction. My left foot slid forward while my body stayed behind, bending my knee joint in an unnatural backwards trajectory.
The pain was instant with white flashes showing up in my eyes. I fell on my right side while refusing to let go of the leashes. Rocket and Tobey continued forward not bothering to realize that they were dragging their beloved master, all 300 lbs of me, across the asphalt. After about ten feet they mercifully stopped allowing me to writhe and moan in a singular location. This is what I fear most, a hyper-extended knee; an injury that often ends with torn ligaments that require major surgery and a long period of inactivity.
Finally, I shook off the agony enough to remember that there were hostile dogs about that would love the opportunity to attack the throat of their enemy laying helpless on the road. I looked around, expecting to see teeth inches away from my face. Instead, the dog was just standing there about twenty feet away, looking at me curiously and not making a sound. Finally it gave a half-bark, then turned and walked away. It was almost like it wanted to make sure I wasn't hurt too bad before going back home.
I considered calling Jennifer on the cell phone to come help me get up off the road. But, I decided if I could get up that I could hobble my way back to the house. It was a long trip, but I made it without further incident. For the next few days I was certain that I did some real damage to my knee due to the pain that was not subsiding, that combined with the sensation that my knee joint felt weak and kind of floppy.
Day by day, the pain has eased and things now feel pretty much back to normal. I did discover that intense knee pain is a cure for nagging neck pain in that it made me focus on something else for a while. Warmer days are coming, hopefully no more pea gravel will need to be applied to the roads so that I can enjoy firmer footing. Brown mutt and weiner dog still come out to harass, but neither have ventured into the road anymore. Maybe they too have decided it just isn't worth all the fuss. I'm ready and eager to get back up on the steep slopes.
Over the past few months, a new dog has shown up in the 'hood; a brown shaggy-looking mutt that is very territorial of his section of road. Usually he just comes down to the edge of the yard snarling and barking. The problem is when his weiner dog brother is in the yard with him. That yappy little dachshund gives the mutt an extra dose of courage and he ends up in the road, baring his teeth while my large dogs pull forward silently, wishing that I would let 'em at this annoying duo of canine bluster.
On this particular evening, I'd had enough of their threatening charges and decided that a small rock on the backside would put an end, once and for all, of this daily harassment. I heard them coming through the woods, so I stepped into the roadside ditch to find said rock and found nothing but leaves and dirt. They were coming rapidly so I aborted my search to get back up on solid pavement for the latest face-off.
I stepped up onto the pavement with my left foot, which my dogs mistook as an invitation to lunge at their fellow canines. While the entire weight of my body was on my left leg, my right still lifting up out of the ditch, my dogs surged towards the source of irritation. The problem this time was all of the pea gravel left over from the snow events. Ironically, this material is spread to provide traction in icy conditions; when the snow and ice is gone it becomes an impediment to traction. My left foot slid forward while my body stayed behind, bending my knee joint in an unnatural backwards trajectory.
The pain was instant with white flashes showing up in my eyes. I fell on my right side while refusing to let go of the leashes. Rocket and Tobey continued forward not bothering to realize that they were dragging their beloved master, all 300 lbs of me, across the asphalt. After about ten feet they mercifully stopped allowing me to writhe and moan in a singular location. This is what I fear most, a hyper-extended knee; an injury that often ends with torn ligaments that require major surgery and a long period of inactivity.
Finally, I shook off the agony enough to remember that there were hostile dogs about that would love the opportunity to attack the throat of their enemy laying helpless on the road. I looked around, expecting to see teeth inches away from my face. Instead, the dog was just standing there about twenty feet away, looking at me curiously and not making a sound. Finally it gave a half-bark, then turned and walked away. It was almost like it wanted to make sure I wasn't hurt too bad before going back home.
I considered calling Jennifer on the cell phone to come help me get up off the road. But, I decided if I could get up that I could hobble my way back to the house. It was a long trip, but I made it without further incident. For the next few days I was certain that I did some real damage to my knee due to the pain that was not subsiding, that combined with the sensation that my knee joint felt weak and kind of floppy.
Day by day, the pain has eased and things now feel pretty much back to normal. I did discover that intense knee pain is a cure for nagging neck pain in that it made me focus on something else for a while. Warmer days are coming, hopefully no more pea gravel will need to be applied to the roads so that I can enjoy firmer footing. Brown mutt and weiner dog still come out to harass, but neither have ventured into the road anymore. Maybe they too have decided it just isn't worth all the fuss. I'm ready and eager to get back up on the steep slopes.
Bad Winter...so far.
This has not been the best winter for me. It has been a very wet season in North Georgia, particularly with rainfall. But, it has been the unusual amounts of snow that has caused me the most trouble. Living on the side of a mountain isn't the best place to be when any amount of snow has accumulated on the driving surfaces. Union County has endured at least three major events that have left me unable to enter my driveway for days at a time. I know that my Yankee friends scoff at this, but when you live in an area that may have one snow event per year that tops three inches, the local budget and equipment for snow removal is sorely lacking.
Did you know that snow can be slippery? Especially when there may be hidden objects lurking beneath the pretty white powder; maybe some pieces of lumber that were supposed to be installed last summer as a trellis for my Rasberry bush?
Around December 13 we had snow on the ground when it became my job to hike down and around a retaining wall to check the level in the liquid propane tank. The snow wasn't terribly deep, around three or four inches and it seemed harmless enough to plod on down the hill and.....
I was on the ground before I knew what had happened. The last thing I saw were my feet pointing up to where the trees limbs hung. While in the act of walking, you should never be able to look up and see the tops of your shoes. I landed flat on my back, which protested with cracking sounds that ran up my vertebrae. A split second later, my head whipped back and did not nestle gently into the snow. It made a resounding thump as it discovered the leaves and twigs that are normally exposed on the ground. The whole episode sounded like the cartoon noise we are all so familiar with when Wiley Coyote, Yogi the Bear, or Scooby and Shaggy hit the ground hard. That sound is remarkably true to life. It is the sound of flesh and cartilage and bone hitting the earth, combined with the grunt and rush of air that leaves the lungs....all at the same time.
As usual, when I fall, I try to get back up as quickly as possible. This reaction is a combination of proving to myself that the injury is not great, and to prevent anyone seeing me laid out uncontrollably prone. I got up, brushed off the wet and cold snow and spied the lumber that did me in. Before taking another step, I flung it into the treeline so as to prevent other such episodes. I continued my journey, checked the propane level (less than 5%...shit) and went on about my business.
It wasn't until the next night at bedtime, when I went to lay my large head down onto the pillow, that the sensation of damage to my neck came rushing into reality. It was like my head was too heavy for my neck muscles to support. I had to take my hands and hold the back of my neck for extra support on the way down, and the same thing in the morning as I attempt to rise up from my slumber. This went on for a few days until the pain migrated behind my left shoulder blade, up the left side of my backstrap, into my neck and up behind my left ear. Nagging, nagging, nagging pain for weeks...until I found myself on the ground again about 6 weeks later...to be continued.
Did you know that snow can be slippery? Especially when there may be hidden objects lurking beneath the pretty white powder; maybe some pieces of lumber that were supposed to be installed last summer as a trellis for my Rasberry bush?
Around December 13 we had snow on the ground when it became my job to hike down and around a retaining wall to check the level in the liquid propane tank. The snow wasn't terribly deep, around three or four inches and it seemed harmless enough to plod on down the hill and.....
I was on the ground before I knew what had happened. The last thing I saw were my feet pointing up to where the trees limbs hung. While in the act of walking, you should never be able to look up and see the tops of your shoes. I landed flat on my back, which protested with cracking sounds that ran up my vertebrae. A split second later, my head whipped back and did not nestle gently into the snow. It made a resounding thump as it discovered the leaves and twigs that are normally exposed on the ground. The whole episode sounded like the cartoon noise we are all so familiar with when Wiley Coyote, Yogi the Bear, or Scooby and Shaggy hit the ground hard. That sound is remarkably true to life. It is the sound of flesh and cartilage and bone hitting the earth, combined with the grunt and rush of air that leaves the lungs....all at the same time.
As usual, when I fall, I try to get back up as quickly as possible. This reaction is a combination of proving to myself that the injury is not great, and to prevent anyone seeing me laid out uncontrollably prone. I got up, brushed off the wet and cold snow and spied the lumber that did me in. Before taking another step, I flung it into the treeline so as to prevent other such episodes. I continued my journey, checked the propane level (less than 5%...shit) and went on about my business.
It wasn't until the next night at bedtime, when I went to lay my large head down onto the pillow, that the sensation of damage to my neck came rushing into reality. It was like my head was too heavy for my neck muscles to support. I had to take my hands and hold the back of my neck for extra support on the way down, and the same thing in the morning as I attempt to rise up from my slumber. This went on for a few days until the pain migrated behind my left shoulder blade, up the left side of my backstrap, into my neck and up behind my left ear. Nagging, nagging, nagging pain for weeks...until I found myself on the ground again about 6 weeks later...to be continued.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Birding in 2010
2010 ended up being a pretty good year for adding birds to my list. In January I added the Song Sparrow and Red-bellied Woodpecker.
A February trip to the Alabama coast found me spotting a Cedar Waxwing and a Royal Tern at Dauphin Island and Fort Morgan, respectively. In Spanish Fort, AL a Boat-tailed Grackle was seen perching on the reeds next to Ed's Seafood on the Battleship Parkway. I really expected to add more species during this trip, but forgetfulness got the best of me. During a day trip from Mobile to Dauphin Island, across Mobile Bay on the ferry, and a drive through the Bon Secour Wildlife Area, I discovered that I left my binoculars and bird book where I was staying in Mobile. I will make a return trip to this area and it's wonderful Alabama Coastal Birding Trail stops.
In between the Alabama trip and a May visit to Washington, D.C. (where a Ring-billed Gull was seen at the U.S. Capitol reflection pool), I spotted a Yellow-rumped Warbler at the Augusta Canal, and made acquaintance with a Great Horned Owl that I have been hearing for months in the woods near my home. Also spotted here in North GA was a Northern Flicker (yellow shafted variety), a Brown-headed Cowbird and a House Finch.
My greatest haul occurred during an August trip to Hunting Island and Pinckney Island Wildlife Refuge in coastal SC. At Hunting Island I spotted a Black Skimmer, Willet, Tri-colored Heron, Sandwich Tern, and Ruddy Turnstone. Pinckney Island sightings included a White Ibis (or hundred), Common Moorhen, Wood Duck, Pied-billed Grebe, Wood Stork, Black-crowned Night Heron and American Bittern. Pinckney Island is a fantastic place to bird watch, but it was damn hot! I strongly recommend taking a bicycle, an ample supply of water, and sunscreen.
After that trip, almost four months of nothing new until a snow storm in December brought a Pine Siskin and a Purple Finch to my deck to munch on some sunflower seeds. My final sighting for 2010 goes to a Northern Harrier spotted near Washington, GA, swooping and gliding along a pine forest near Hwy 17. The white patch above its tail gave it away.
All of that made for a total of 26 birds for 2010.
I already have 2011 kicked off by sighting a Red-tailed Hawk munching on some varmint by the side of Hwy 180 near Vogel State Park (GA). I can't believe it has taken me a year and a half to finally spot one. This brings my list total to 66 birds since May 2009.
A February trip to the Alabama coast found me spotting a Cedar Waxwing and a Royal Tern at Dauphin Island and Fort Morgan, respectively. In Spanish Fort, AL a Boat-tailed Grackle was seen perching on the reeds next to Ed's Seafood on the Battleship Parkway. I really expected to add more species during this trip, but forgetfulness got the best of me. During a day trip from Mobile to Dauphin Island, across Mobile Bay on the ferry, and a drive through the Bon Secour Wildlife Area, I discovered that I left my binoculars and bird book where I was staying in Mobile. I will make a return trip to this area and it's wonderful Alabama Coastal Birding Trail stops.
In between the Alabama trip and a May visit to Washington, D.C. (where a Ring-billed Gull was seen at the U.S. Capitol reflection pool), I spotted a Yellow-rumped Warbler at the Augusta Canal, and made acquaintance with a Great Horned Owl that I have been hearing for months in the woods near my home. Also spotted here in North GA was a Northern Flicker (yellow shafted variety), a Brown-headed Cowbird and a House Finch.
My greatest haul occurred during an August trip to Hunting Island and Pinckney Island Wildlife Refuge in coastal SC. At Hunting Island I spotted a Black Skimmer, Willet, Tri-colored Heron, Sandwich Tern, and Ruddy Turnstone. Pinckney Island sightings included a White Ibis (or hundred), Common Moorhen, Wood Duck, Pied-billed Grebe, Wood Stork, Black-crowned Night Heron and American Bittern. Pinckney Island is a fantastic place to bird watch, but it was damn hot! I strongly recommend taking a bicycle, an ample supply of water, and sunscreen.
After that trip, almost four months of nothing new until a snow storm in December brought a Pine Siskin and a Purple Finch to my deck to munch on some sunflower seeds. My final sighting for 2010 goes to a Northern Harrier spotted near Washington, GA, swooping and gliding along a pine forest near Hwy 17. The white patch above its tail gave it away.
All of that made for a total of 26 birds for 2010.
I already have 2011 kicked off by sighting a Red-tailed Hawk munching on some varmint by the side of Hwy 180 near Vogel State Park (GA). I can't believe it has taken me a year and a half to finally spot one. This brings my list total to 66 birds since May 2009.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Double Knob South
Via Wagon Train Trail, June 21, 2008
Elevation Start: 1,800'
Elevation at Double Knob, south summit: 4,040'
Elevation gain: 2,240'
Time Line
Start at red gate behind Rollins Hall at Young Harris College
To Wagon Train Trail (30mins)
Spring at the head of Darr Cove (59mins)
Crest of Double Knob Ridge (1hr 10mins) - this is where you begin bushwhacking.
Found USGS marker at 3,596' el (1hr 35mins)
Double Knobs, north summit (1hr 52mins)
Double Knobs, south summit (2hrs 4mins)
Back to Parking Area (3hrs 26mins)
This trip includes 54 minutes of blazing your own trail through underbrush. Most of Georgia's 4000' peaks are not directly accessible by trail, and involve a bit of bushwhacking. Some bushwhacking trips are more adventurous than others. This one wasn't too terrible other than when a lone hornet drilled into the back of my right calf as I was making my way back down to the trail.
As I pushed my way past laurel and rhododendron bushes, along with the occasional brier patch, I made my way up towards the summit. There is no particular method I use in bushwhacking. The idea is to simply keep going in the direction of up until the highest point is reached. Hopefully a purchase of a hand held GPS in the near future will be of great help for trips like this.
I ascended the north summit from which I could plainly make out the higher south summit. I hate to sound like a broken record on some of these "peakbagging" trips, but the view from either peak is negligible. Both are completely covered with trees. In the near future I plan to do this trip in the winter when the views are completely different than the full foliage of June.
As you can see, coming down is a bit easier than going up, as it took only 1hr 22mins to return to the parking area. The best time to use this trail is when Young Harris College is not in session. With the students gone, there is abundant parking.
Elevation Start: 1,800'
Elevation at Double Knob, south summit: 4,040'
Elevation gain: 2,240'
Time Line
Start at red gate behind Rollins Hall at Young Harris College
To Wagon Train Trail (30mins)
Spring at the head of Darr Cove (59mins)
Crest of Double Knob Ridge (1hr 10mins) - this is where you begin bushwhacking.
Found USGS marker at 3,596' el (1hr 35mins)
Double Knobs, north summit (1hr 52mins)
Double Knobs, south summit (2hrs 4mins)
Back to Parking Area (3hrs 26mins)
This trip includes 54 minutes of blazing your own trail through underbrush. Most of Georgia's 4000' peaks are not directly accessible by trail, and involve a bit of bushwhacking. Some bushwhacking trips are more adventurous than others. This one wasn't too terrible other than when a lone hornet drilled into the back of my right calf as I was making my way back down to the trail.
As I pushed my way past laurel and rhododendron bushes, along with the occasional brier patch, I made my way up towards the summit. There is no particular method I use in bushwhacking. The idea is to simply keep going in the direction of up until the highest point is reached. Hopefully a purchase of a hand held GPS in the near future will be of great help for trips like this.
I ascended the north summit from which I could plainly make out the higher south summit. I hate to sound like a broken record on some of these "peakbagging" trips, but the view from either peak is negligible. Both are completely covered with trees. In the near future I plan to do this trip in the winter when the views are completely different than the full foliage of June.
As you can see, coming down is a bit easier than going up, as it took only 1hr 22mins to return to the parking area. The best time to use this trail is when Young Harris College is not in session. With the students gone, there is abundant parking.
Miller Trek Trail
 |
| Trailhead Arch |
Starting Elevation: Miller Trek Trail Head 1,926'
Highest Elevation: 3,315 at Rocky Knob
Climb of 1,389' in the first 3 miles, mostly downhill back to trail head.
Time line
Start at trail head.
Right turn (15 mins) - first hard right off the blue blazed trail.
Pine thicket (19 mins) - after crossing the power cut.
Trail map sign (28 mins) - bear to the right at sign.
Small cove w/bridge (50 mins)
Cross over to south ridge of Rocky Knob (1hr 34mins) - Highest point on trail.
Long bridge (2hrs 11mins) - 100'+ of narrow deck that crosses boggy area.
Back to sign (2hrs 24mins)
Back to power cut (2hrs 39mins)
Trail intersection (2hrs 45 mins)
End back at trail head (approximately 3 hours)
In the mid 1990s, the state of Georgia decided it would be a good idea to build an 18-hole golf course and mountain resort near Young Harris. In addition to the main lodge, there are cabins dotting the hillsides, a spa, horse stables, and tennis courts, spread out over 500+ acres in an area that the Cherokee once referred to as "The Enchanted Valley". To me, the best features of the resort area are the 9 miles of hiking trails that meander through the mountain bogs and up on the ridges behind the main lodge.
The main trail is the Miller Trek Trail (in the process of being changed to lime green blaze trail markers) which begins near the main entrance to the resort at a parking area on the right. The trail head can't be missed as it is an elaborate rock and wooden arch. The trail is named after former Georgia Governor and U.S. Senator Zell Miller. You may remember him as the fellow that challenged Chris Matthews of MSNBC's Hardball to a duel on national television during the coverage of the 2004 Presidential campaign. That bit of craziness aside, he is a resident of Young Harris, went to college there, and is still a very active member in the community.
This trail has become on of my most frequented due to its close location to my home, and the fact that there is a nice loop hike that can be done in about an hour and ten minutes. Also, the two other nearby trails (Arkaquah, and the Wagon Train Trail) are butt kickers for the first 1-2 miles. Sometimes it's nice to walk in the woods without feeling like you might suffer a coronary in the first 1/2 hour. I take the dogs here at least once a week for a change of pace from the neighborhood roads.
On this day we tackled the entire loop trail which, according to the brochure, is 6.5 miles in length. This is a great trail to take dogs on, without having to carry extra water for them. There are many spring branches & creeks for them to drink freely. Just remember that their gut can take drinking from the stream, and yours can't!
Winter time, as with most every hike in North Georgia, is the best time to take in the mountain views. On the return trip, once you have crossed over to the south slope of Rocky Knob, you can see the blue of Lake Chatuge in the direction of Hiawassee, GA. There are no clearings with a stunning vista, but this trail provides a nice ramble through the woods, includes creek bottoms, ridge tops, and all areas in between.
Regarding wildlife, I have seen a black bear on this trail, near the pine thicket, and Deer are also a common sight. However, this day's trip didn't include any wildlife sightings. If you desire a shorter hike, follow the blue blazes on a 2 mile loop trail that includes educational markers about the mountain habitat. Or, do both!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Brasstown Bald via Arkaquah Trail 8/29/2010
TIME LINE
3:45 PM start, 2200' elevation
3:55 small spring (10mins)
4:54 Buzzards Roost Ridge overlook, 3640' elevation (1hr 9mins)
5:10 begin ascent from Cove Gap up to Locust Log Ridge (1hr 25mins)
5:25 begin descent from Locust Log Ridge (1hr 40mins)
5:33 rock seat at Low Gap, then ascent (1hr 48mins)
5:50 spring at rock formation on the north side of Blue Bluff (2hrs 5mins)
6:03 ridge with east view (2hrs 18mins)
6:30 rock pass through (2hrs 45mins)
6:35 slab on Chimneytop (2hrs 50 mins)
7:15PM arrive at parking area, 4,320; elevation (3hrs 30 mins)
This is one of my favorite trails in North Georgia. It may be the combination of the tough ascent up to Buzzards Roost Ridge mixed with the ancient Native American history of the Trackrock Gap petroglyphs. Also, the fact that the trail head is a mere 3 1/2 miles from my front door doesn't hurt. The dogs and I have used it many times as a short workout hike, usually trudging up the hour or so that it takes to get to a fine view of the Plott Town and Jacksonville communities.
I first completed this hike to the top of Brasstown Bald on Easter in 2007. This is the first time since then that I have completed the trip all the way to the parking area, which lies .6 miles below the summit. So, if you're looking to make this your trail of choice for ascending Brasstown Bald, add in another 20mins to reach the summit. The Easter hike was an in and out hike that took eight and a half hours to complete. This time again, I had Jennifer pick me up at the parking area so I could enjoy the ride back down, not to mention that darkness would have swallowed me about halfway back.
Like so many of my hikes in this area, the number of people that you pass on the trail is minimal. This day was no exception as I passed a couple and their dog a mere 30 minutes into the hike. From that point on, it was just me and the dogs.
The first hour and nine minutes involved a climb of 1,440' to get up onto the Buzzard Roost Ridge where there is a vantage point from a cluster of boulders where I always like to take a short break. From here, the trail continues along a narrow ridge where you can spy the tower on Brasstown Bald through the treetops. It looks closer than the two hours and a bit that it will take to travel across the ridges and up and down the peaks on the way to the parking area.
In the winter, the views are certainly better than the curtain of green that covers the trees in the summer. Views to the west overlook the Track Rock, Town Creek, and Choestoe Valley areas of the county. I wish there were some bluffs, much like the one on top of Blood Mountain, that would provide a more open view.
Leaving Buzzard Roost Ridge, the trail drops down into Cove Gap, thus beginning a series of ascents and descents until you break out into the open on the rocky top of Chimneytop Mountain (another of the Georgia 4000' peaks). This is also a nice spot to sit and give your legs a rest. From here, the trail is fairly level, taking you through the lush rhododendron and laurel tunnel all the way to the parking area.
The sweat on my body becomes a cold dampness as I break into the open at 4,320' elevation, where even on a late August evening in Georgia the wind makes it cool enough that I'm glad for the fleece stowed away in my pack. I stroll to the far end of the lot near where Jacks Knob Trail comes in from the south. There is a nice view from the picnic area back to the north, where a family is enjoying a late picnic all the while fighting the battle to keep their plates and napkins from blowing away.
As the sun begins to drop behind the ridges to the west, my ride arrives, ending yet another great day of hiking in North Georgia.
3:45 PM start, 2200' elevation
3:55 small spring (10mins)
4:54 Buzzards Roost Ridge overlook, 3640' elevation (1hr 9mins)
5:10 begin ascent from Cove Gap up to Locust Log Ridge (1hr 25mins)
5:25 begin descent from Locust Log Ridge (1hr 40mins)
5:33 rock seat at Low Gap, then ascent (1hr 48mins)
5:50 spring at rock formation on the north side of Blue Bluff (2hrs 5mins)
6:03 ridge with east view (2hrs 18mins)
6:30 rock pass through (2hrs 45mins)
6:35 slab on Chimneytop (2hrs 50 mins)
7:15PM arrive at parking area, 4,320; elevation (3hrs 30 mins)
This is one of my favorite trails in North Georgia. It may be the combination of the tough ascent up to Buzzards Roost Ridge mixed with the ancient Native American history of the Trackrock Gap petroglyphs. Also, the fact that the trail head is a mere 3 1/2 miles from my front door doesn't hurt. The dogs and I have used it many times as a short workout hike, usually trudging up the hour or so that it takes to get to a fine view of the Plott Town and Jacksonville communities.
I first completed this hike to the top of Brasstown Bald on Easter in 2007. This is the first time since then that I have completed the trip all the way to the parking area, which lies .6 miles below the summit. So, if you're looking to make this your trail of choice for ascending Brasstown Bald, add in another 20mins to reach the summit. The Easter hike was an in and out hike that took eight and a half hours to complete. This time again, I had Jennifer pick me up at the parking area so I could enjoy the ride back down, not to mention that darkness would have swallowed me about halfway back.
Like so many of my hikes in this area, the number of people that you pass on the trail is minimal. This day was no exception as I passed a couple and their dog a mere 30 minutes into the hike. From that point on, it was just me and the dogs.
The first hour and nine minutes involved a climb of 1,440' to get up onto the Buzzard Roost Ridge where there is a vantage point from a cluster of boulders where I always like to take a short break. From here, the trail continues along a narrow ridge where you can spy the tower on Brasstown Bald through the treetops. It looks closer than the two hours and a bit that it will take to travel across the ridges and up and down the peaks on the way to the parking area.
In the winter, the views are certainly better than the curtain of green that covers the trees in the summer. Views to the west overlook the Track Rock, Town Creek, and Choestoe Valley areas of the county. I wish there were some bluffs, much like the one on top of Blood Mountain, that would provide a more open view.
Leaving Buzzard Roost Ridge, the trail drops down into Cove Gap, thus beginning a series of ascents and descents until you break out into the open on the rocky top of Chimneytop Mountain (another of the Georgia 4000' peaks). This is also a nice spot to sit and give your legs a rest. From here, the trail is fairly level, taking you through the lush rhododendron and laurel tunnel all the way to the parking area.
The sweat on my body becomes a cold dampness as I break into the open at 4,320' elevation, where even on a late August evening in Georgia the wind makes it cool enough that I'm glad for the fleece stowed away in my pack. I stroll to the far end of the lot near where Jacks Knob Trail comes in from the south. There is a nice view from the picnic area back to the north, where a family is enjoying a late picnic all the while fighting the battle to keep their plates and napkins from blowing away.
As the sun begins to drop behind the ridges to the west, my ride arrives, ending yet another great day of hiking in North Georgia.
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