ALMOST PERFECT TIMING

I finally got my tent back from The North Face warranty department. With no other weekend obligations, I decided to squeeze a winter backpacking trip in at the last minute. Joel was eager to go, and the plan was to hike the Shining Rock Wilderness and camp near Graveyard Fields. Graveyard Fields is beautiful, and I’ve always wanted to camp there. I’ve always avoided it though, because it’s a zoo in the warmer months. The meadows are within sight and sound of the Blue Ridge Parkway, and they are a popular stop thanks to the waterfalls and scenic views. In the winter, though, that section of the parkway is closed. We saw this as our opportunity to have the place to ourselves.

I called the Parkway information line on Friday and confirmed that the road was closed. Unfortunately, I also found out that forecasters were calling for heavy rain Friday night into Saturday. Joel and I debated our options, but finally decided just to go and take our chances with the weather. I needed to get out, rain or not. Plus, the same forecasters that had gotten nearly every major winter storm wrong this year seemed confident that the rain would be ending in the morning. Would it really happen that way? We would see.

I left Charlotte early and hit rain west of Shelby. It rained through Rutherfordton and Hendersonville, and was still coming down when I met Joel at the Pisgah Ranger Station near Brevard. Joel followed me up highway 276 towards the parkway. Our plan was to hike up the Big East Fork of the Pigeon River and camp at Graveyard Fields. We’d return on the Mountains-to-Sea Trail, which follows the Parkway closely before crossing highway 276 south of the Parkway. I thought that it would be a nice section of trail without the noise from traffic on the Parkway.

I was watching closely for a parking area shown on the map, but somehow I missed it. We doubled back and parked my car in a narrow pull off near the trailhead. It wasn’t a parking area as much as a wide shoulder, and I was leery about leaving my car there for 2 days. Still, if I had let those concerns stop me on past trips, I would never have hiked to half of the places I’ve been.

Joel and I drove to the top of the mountain and crossed under the Parkway. On the far side, the rain stopped, the clouds parted and the sun came out! It seemed like a miracle. As we descended the far side, Cold Mountain loomed out of the breaking mist. It was a case of perfect timing as we arrived at the trailhead as the skies were clearing.

We hiked upstream along the Big East Fork of the Pigeon River. This is not to be confused with the West Fork, or the Little East Fork, which oddly enough is actually a tributary of the West Fork. Are you confused yet? Good. You probably aren’t half as confused as we were when we lost the trail. Well, we didn’t so much loose the trail as it lost us. At one point, the old railroad grade we were following had washed away along the side of a cliff. The trail had been rerouted higher up the mountain. Unfortunately it braided into about 6 different paths as it climbed away from the river. There was no way to tell the true trail from the false ones. It was a matter of trial and error, and we guessed incorrectly three times before finding our way through. If you hike this trail, when in doubt, go further uphill. The correct trail turned out to be the highest obvious route on the mountain.

We descended back to the river and enjoyed the numerous cascades and pools. The trail then climbed away from the river again, before descending once more to its banks. This time the route was obvious, to our relief. We reached the river again at a fantastic campsite. It features a sandy beach at a swimming hole right at the outlet of Shining Creek. Campsites are plentiful along this trail, but this may have been the most appealing one.

We continued upstream and viewed a pair of tributaries cascading over minor waterfalls and into the river. Just upstream on the river was a monster rapid that probably qualifies as a small but violent waterfall. Beyond, we found another place where the trail had washed out. The only passable route was along the rocks at the edge of the river. This proved to be an ideal resting spot, so we stopped for lunch.

That afternoon we arrived at Bridges Camp, at the mouth of Greasy Prong. Here the Grassy Cove Trail fords the river and heads towards Ivestor Gap. I love that trail, but I was glad we weren’t going that way today. The river was up, and crossing the river would’ve been a very wet adventure. Instead, we continued upstream, now on the Bridges Camp Gap trail. This led another ½ mile to a final campsite. From there, we followed a recently rerouted trail with yellow blazes. It was well-graded, and we reached the Mountains-To-Sea Trail near the Parkway without much effort.

I was waiting at the junction for Joel when a car went by. Where did that come from? I thought the Parkway was closed. By the time Joel caught up, several more had zoomed by. Sigh. Apparently they had opened the Parkway that morning. It turns out our timing wasn’t perfect after all. We should’ve done this trip a week or two earlier.

We followed the MST, hiking back down to the Yellowstone Prong of the Pigeon River. Here we found an impressive footbridge spanning a lovely swimming hole at the base of an unnamed waterfall. The swimming hole is locally known as the Skinny Dip, for obvious reasons. Luckily for me, Joel declined the opportunity for a swim. I certainly didn’t want to see that.

We hiked downstream past campsites before turning uphill away from the river. On two occasions, I spooked wild turkeys that were grazing nearby. We climbed the biggest hill of the day, finally arriving on a knoll. A few minutes later we reached a nice campsite in an open forest of beech and birch. Here the river was just below us. Just downstream, it plunges over the last of the three waterfalls in the Graveyard Fields area. Lower Falls is probably the highest of the three, but it is exceptionally difficult to get a good view of it. I explored the hillside above the falls looking for a route to the base, but eventually gave up. Getting a better look would’ve required descending a nearly sheer cliff sporting an impressive growth of thorns, brush, and rhododendron. Somehow, that was enough to make me loose all interest in the waterfall.

Joel and I considered our options. It was a warm, sunny day, and the parkway was open. Graveyard Fields would be busy. It was also exceptionally windy, and we knew the open meadows would be a hazardous place to pitch our tents. Ultimately we decided to forgo Graveyard Fields and camp where we were. We had a nice open spot within earshot of Lower Falls. We’d save camping in Graveyard Fields for next winter. We hadn’t seen anyone all day, but 3 groups of hikers passed by while we were setting up camp. This only validated our decision. It would’ve been much more busy up in the meadows.

It was only 4pm, so we had plenty of time to gather firewood. There was plenty, and it wasn’t too wet despite the earlier rain. That evening we shared a dinner of chicken Creole and took turns throwing logs on the fire. It got chilly that night, but it was never unpleasant. I’d guess that temperatures were near freezing overnight, but I wasn’t aware of it. I slept straight through the night and woke up late.

Sunday dawned sunny but cool. After the usual oatmeal, I headed up to Graveyard Fields. I had come here to visit the meadows, and I wasn’t going to let a change in campsites stop me. It only took a few minutes to reach Second Falls. Here the forest service has constructed an elaborate staircase to the base of the waterfall. Normally I frown upon that sort of thing, but erosion in Graveyard Fields is so bad it was probably the only solution.

I descended to the base and was pleasantly surprised to have the falls to myself. It was still early, and the usual crowds hadn’t arrived yet. This was quite a change from my first visit to Second Falls. That had been on a backpacking trip with Eric back in the mid 90’s. On that occasion we joined a zoo of people on the rocks below the falls. Some folks were swimming, and others were sunning. Eric and I were enjoying the scenery, when a girl who was bathing under the falls experienced a "wardrobe malfunction". You could say we got a little more scenery than we had counted on.

I didn’t linger long, as I still wanted to hike to the far end of the meadows. I continued upstream, and passed a bridge that leads to the parking area for the Parkway. Beyond, the trail stayed very close to the stream. The scenery was wide-open, as the vegetation was limited mainly to shrubs and the occasional tree. It’s a beautiful area, with the Yellowstone Prong gently winding it’s way through the meadows. Beyond, the bald summits of Tennent Mountain and Black Balsam soared above me. Here "Yellowstone Prong" seemed a fitting name for the river. I could almost imagine I was in Wyoming.

I wandered upstream on a path that was occasionally flooded and always muddy. Along the way, the only sounds to intrude on my peace were the songs of birds just returning for Spring. I was near the far end of the meadows when the spell was broken. I heard voices in the distance, and soon enough I was passing a large family headed the other way. It was ok though. I had experienced over an hour in Graveyard Fields without seeing another soul.

I continued on a rough, rocky path towards Upper Falls. I finally reached this final waterfall, which may be the prettiest in the area. The stream is smaller here, but still fairly sizeable considering it starts only a mile or two further upstream. I sat in the sun and enjoyed the view of the falls for some time before heading back towards camp.

I returned to camp and found Joel packed and ready to go. I sent him on his way while I packed, reasoning that I would catch up to him quickly enough. I headed out 45 minutes later, and followed the Mountains-To-Sea Trail back down to the Skinny Dip. This time, there were a handful of people exploring the area around the falls. One fellow asked if I had a light for his cigarette. Generally I don’t care if other people smoke, but I didn’t feel like being an accomplice. Plus, my matches were buried, and I didn’t want to take the time to dig them out. I declined and started up the big hill towards Chestnut Ridge.

I caught up to Joel near the top. He had just stopped for lunch, so I joined him. After a quick snack, we climbed over the ridge and descended to the Parkway. Here we followed the shoulder for 50 yards before turning back into the woods. This section of trail would’ve been much nicer if the road had been closed. For the next couple of miles we were usually close enough to hear traffic, if not in sight of the road itself. We crossed the parkway twice before beginning the last big climb of the trip.

The climb of Green Knob was fairly tough, but it gave us a welcome escape from the Parkway. We reached the shoulder of the mountain, and were rewarded with a winter view of Shining Rock and Cold Mountain. We crossed one summit, but finally found a nice view on the second. Here was a small outcrop with a clear view of Looking Glass Rock and Cedar Rock. We took a final break here to enjoy the moment before heading for the car.

We descended from Green Knob and crossed the Parkway a final time. We passed under a power line, and far below I spotted my car parked on the shoulder of highway 276. It was some distance away, but it appeared that the tires and windows were still intact. We descended rapidly to the road, and followed the shoulder of the highway a short distance down to the car. Our trip hadn’t been timed perfectly, but it was still a good one. We’ll definitely be back next winter to camp at Graveyard Fields. Next year, we’ll make sure to do it in December or January, when the road will definitely be closed.

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