Creation

King of Zion*

/ JRLonas / 2 Comments

I was a traveller in an ancient land
Who saw two vast and tow’ring walls of stone
Rise from the river. Unpropped, they stand
Halfway to heaven, by sunset’s light shown
Redder even than each iron-laced band,
Telling of a sculptor from whose great head
Flow designs magnificent; o’er all things
Must He reign. Of Him was it truly said:
“Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,
God hath shined.” Back to His vast throne-room rings
The praise of all, rendered not from duty.
“The heavens shall declare his righteousness,”
Cry these hills, shouting beyond dispute. He,
O His people, whose wonders we confess.

*Brought to you by Psalm 50, with assistance pilfered from P.B. Shelly.

Into the Woods: Conasauga Lake and Grassy Mountain

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Location is everything.

Chattanooga is where it is because of the conveniences of transportation. It’s where the Tennessee River cuts through the wall of the Cumberland Plateau, and the city built up around this natural intersection between boats and rails during the early industrial era. That made it quite the prize during the war between the states, and it’s the crossroads of the South even still—a 2.5 hour drive or less from Atlanta, Knoxville, Birmingham, and Nashville. Much of the traffic between the Southeast and the Midwest passes through here, giving us more traffic woes than a city of this size warrants. Two of the top 10 largest trucking corporations in the U.S. are headquartered here, and we’re still known around the world for a catchy tune about a train ride.

All of that to say, living here makes getting other places a fairly easy proposition, so much so that a drive over to the western edge of the Appalachians for a day hike isn’t much trouble at all. On clear days from certain vantage points around town, you can make out the profile of Big Frog, Cowpen Mountain, and Grassy Mountain shooting up from the valley floor about 40 miles to the east. They are the westernmost “real mountains” (+/- 4,000 ft. above sea level) in the country until you get to the Black Hills.  Continue reading →

Into the Woods: Lula Lake

/ JRLonas / 4 Comments

Winter is my favorite season.

The snow. The cold. The wind. I’ll take it all with a smile.

Now, before the haters descend (who are these poor epithets of opinion anyway?), the “winter” I get to enjoy here in Chattanooga often looks a lot like what people in Minnesota might call “July”. Winter for us has occasional elements recognizable to folks further north, but mostly it is the time of year when the humidity goes down, the bugs die or evacuate, and the grass (mercifully) stops growing for a bit. To put it another way, if you wonder why Tennesseans and other species of Southerner delight in winter, come spend August with us sometime. You’ll be yearning the relative comfort of a blizzard within a week.

Case in point: Saturday. It was 29°F at sunrise, without a cloud in the sky. By mid-afternoon, it was up to 65. I’m hard-pressed to think of a better all-around day to spend outside, and the climate of this part of the world presents an embarrassment of these riches from November to March. Faced with such finery, I naturally went hiking.

IMG_4878Being the last weekend of the month, it was an open-gate day at Lula Lake Land Trust. This privately owned plot of 8,000 or so acres is on the east side of Lookout Mountain (part of the Cumberland Plateau) in Walker County, Georgia, about 5 miles south of the Tennessee Line.

Like much of the plateau eco-region, the property features mature oak forests that thrive on the relatively poor, thin soil overlaying the mountain’s cap rock. These give way to a lush riparian zone along the course of Rock Creek through the middle of the trust’s land, with Hemlock, Rhododendron, Mountain Laurel, Ferns, and other species that need more moisture to thrive. I’ve been visiting this spot for several years, and the diversity of plants and terrain in such a small area makes it a special place indeed. The trust seems to know well what a treasure they have in their hands, and their careful management of the tract promises to keep it just as pristine for years to come (in fact, its current state is largely due to the founder buying up land to redeem it from logging and abuse).

For this trip, I had neither kids in tow nor a time limit, so I set out to explore some trails I hadn’t been able to get to yet. There are over 7 miles of trails in the section of the property that is open to visitors, in addition to the gravel road bed that runs along the creek (part of which is the way vehicles get in and out). All are very well signed, and the varying degrees of difficulty should keep any level of hiker satisfied with a visit. Continue reading →

Into the Woods: Rocky Top

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Plenty of folks will tolerate walking a few miles over rough terrain for exercise, camping, to see a view, or to enjoy a particularly nice day, but not many of us enjoy the walking itself.

Owen, a good friend of ours going back to college days, now lives “over the mountains” from us in Waynesville, North Carolina. He’s an avid hiker and backpacker (since moving to NC, he has logged some serious miles), and it dawned on both of us a few years ago that we were each other’s only friend who enjoyed hiking on its own merits.  That being the case, we’ve tried to get together at least once a year for a good stretch of the legs somewhere more or less equidistant from each of us.

In 2013, when the idea first came to fruition, I was staying at my parents’ home for a week in July, so we met to tackle Linville Gorge in North Carolina. We took two cars, parking one on the west side of the gorge and starting the hike from the east rim. We climbed up Hawksbill, and then promptly lost the trail on our way to the canyon floor (USFS Wilderness areas are [in]famous for non-existent trail maintenance and sparse signage). After a long scramble down the mountainside (you can only ever get so lost in a steep river valley), we picked up another trail and found the one footbridge across the river washed out. Not to be thwarted, we swam it, snakes and all. My friend went first; I tossed across our packs, and then dove in myself. We managed to dry off on the hot climb up the west rim, making it back to the other car minutes before a huge hail storm hit. Year 1: success.

In May of 2014, we conned another of our college buddies to join us for a 12-mile round trip in my neck of the woods: climbing Big Frog on the Benton MacKaye Trail. This time we got together the night before for some “comfort camping” out of the back of the car with good food and campfire conversations. We hit the trail in the morning, and had gotten about 200 yards into the woods when it started raining. Hard. No matter, though; it only lasted until we made it to the summit. We laughed, dried off as we made the long descent, and cured the misery with a burger on the way home. Year 2: comically good memories.

This month, ever gluttons for punishment, we chose to Thunderhead Mountain - Google Mapstry our hand at Rocky Top in the Northwest Quadrant of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It’s a grueling climb by Eastern U.S. standards, with the shortest route (Lead Cove Trail > Bote Mountain Trail > Appalachian Trail) gaining 3,500+ feet in altitude over less than 6 miles.

We camped on a Friday at Cades Cove (word to the wise, if you want a weekend campsite there, book it well in advance). A sunset drive around the loop did not disappoint, with deer and coyotes showing off like they were on the NPS payroll. It was quite hot, but a small price to pay for a 0% chance of rain for hike day.

We woke with the sun, got packed and set to work on breakfast over the fire. It only took half of my first cup of coffee to call the weatherman’s bluff. It poured rain for about 10 minutes. Then the sun came out. As we were washing up the dishes and dousing the fire the same cycle happened again. Not a good sign.

We got to the trailhead, and the ground was dry, so we struck out. The humidity made for a sweaty and foggy ascent, but it did not rain. We passed some incredible trees (the north face of the Smokies is renowned for its old-growth tulip poplars and raIMG_3919inforest-like climate), a few wild hog “wallers”, an enormous tom turkey, and a hundred different kinds of flowers I planned to photograph on the more leisurely hike back. When we finally made it to the summit, the promised view was obscured by 50′ visibility in a bright cloud. We rested for a few minutes in hopes it would break, but gave up pretty quickly.

Not a quarter mile down the return trail, it began to rain steadily. We put on  our rain gear and trudged on. The farther we went, the harder it came down, thunder reverberating through the hollows. By the time we started the steepest part of the descent, the trail was nearly ankle deep in fast-moving runoff. At this point, you have to either laugh or cry; you don’t have a choice but to keep going.

Once we were within striking distance of our cars, the sun broke through. When we were almost dry, another storm came up with incredible speed, thoroughly re-soaking us for the last mile. All the planned photography was scrapped, so I have little to show from the hike but a good story to tell. A towel, dry shirt, and some tourist-priced (though happily not tourist-quality) smoked chicken at a riverside BBQ joint in Townsend offered just enough relief to recognize this insanity for the fun it is.

Year 3: If at first you get rained out, maybe summer hikes are not for you. How about fall or winter next time?

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