Quick Look: Slave Falls, Big South Fork
Month: April 2018
Magic Carpet: Taylor Hollow State Natural Area
During the spring, I’m always on the hunt for the very best spring wildflower trails. We have some lovely ones close to Huntsville, but Chet and I have hiked most of them at this point so I’m always on the lookout for a new place to go. One night a few weeks ago, I was half-heartedly typing in Google searches for “wildflower trails near me” or something along those lines, and I came across a reference to a place I’d never heard of: Taylor Hollow. The online trail reviews made it sound like a wildflower heaven on earth so I immediately started trying to figure out where this place was. Surprisingly in this day and age of “online everything,” it’s a little tricky. By going to the Nature Conservancy website, I discovered that this gem is a 163 acre preserve run by the Nature Conservancy in middle Tennessee. There’s a map with a general area there, but they strongly encourage you to email them for directions, because the place is not marked and is difficult to find. I sent off my email on a Saturday night and got a response the next Monday. After a few emails back and forth to set up some ground rules, I came away with directions to the trailhead, plus permission to blog about their preserve as long as we didn’t give out directions or an address. If you want to go (and I would encourage everybody to do so!) just contact them via email or the phone number listed on the website. Trust me – it’s worth it.
It’s been a pretty rainy stretch recently – I can’t remember the last time we had a totally rain-free weekend – so we waited a bit until we got some cooperation from the weather gods and headed up into Tennessee one rare beautiful clear Sunday morning. It is a bit of a drive from Huntsville, but with directions in hand, we had no trouble finding where we were supposed to park. I was sure that, difficult as this spot was to find, we’d be the only people there, but when we drove up there were a couple of other cars parked already. So far so good, but the next challenge would be finding the trailhead. Actually, I should correct myself there – the next challenge turned out to be getting past the “guard rooster.” This guy came strutting down the gravel drive towards us, fluffy white companion-hen in tow. I was amazed that he was so bold! Farm-boy Chet was immediately a little concerned. He knows roosters, and has tangled with some pretty mean ones in his time growing up on a farm. He recognized this guy as not just bold, but aggressive. Sure enough, as we tried to calmly head up the driveway without riling him up, he tried to block our path, then crowd us off to one side. We got past him without incident, but he followed us all the way up the drive and made me very nervous!
Once past the rooster, our next task was to find the kiosk that marks the beginning of the actual trail. This did not go terribly smoothly, to be honest. I’m not sure how much I can say without breaking my agreement with the Nature Conservancy, but I think I can say that if you see a lovely old tree-lined roadbed leading up past a barn and a pond, that’s NOT the way to go. That way did lead us to some beautiful wild blue phlox, periwinkle, pennywort, and a stand of shooting stars, though. We figured out we were wrong pretty quickly once we headed towards another farmhouse, and with just a little backtracking we found the right path. It led to a meadow and through the trees on the other side we could see the kiosk.
Not the path
Periwinkle
Running Cedar
Up to this point on the correct trail, we hadn’t actually seen many wildflowers. We passed a stand of running cedar, but that was about it. However, under the kiosk sign was a beautiful little stand of Sweet Betsy trilliums, so things were looking up. The trail here is mostly level with just a little gentle up and down as it heads through the trees along a ridge line. The forest on either side is simply covered with Mayapples. They aren’t the showiest of flowers when they’re in bloom, and these weren’t in bloom yet, but it was still pretty amazing to me to see so many of them spreading up and down the hillside.
Sweet Betsy
Kiosk
Mayapples
We soon spotted a bunch of fineleaf toothwort mixed with cutleaf toothwort, an Allegheny spurge, a couple of star chickweed, some patches of rue anemone, a swath of twinleaf, and a few more stands of trillium – both the toadshade kind and the wake-robin kind. At a spot where the trail dipped down across a tiny wet-weather streamlet I spotted one of the flowers we’d most been hoping to see – the blue eyed mary. This little plant is native to an area that goes from Tennessee north into Canada, west as far as Oklahoma, and east into New York. It is so beautiful, but it is now endangered in Tennessee. We felt very lucky to have found a small stand of them!
Fineleaf Toothwort
Cutleaf Toothwort
Allegheny Spurge
Star Chickweed
Rue Anemone
Twinleaf
Blue Eyed Mary
We kept heading down the trail and started seeing some more patches of phlox, a couple of celandine poppies, and then a big patch of dutchmen’s breeches. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen them in the wild before, so I was really excited about these! Mixed in with the dutchmen’s breeches there was also a nice stand of squirrel corn, but I’ll be honest – I didn’t even realize until we’d gotten home and looked at the pictures. The leaves and flowers are really similar! Next up were the deep, vivid purple of larkspur and more purple phlox and bent wake robin trillium. Below us, we could see a creekbed lined with green. I wondered if maybe that green could be trout lily, like that patch we’d found when we hiked Cutchenmine Trail recently.
Wild Blue Phlox
Celandine Poppy
Dutchmen’s Breeches
Squirrel Corn
Dwarf Larkspur
Bent Wake Robbin
Creek from above
The trail took a sharp turn to the left and headed down a set of stairs where the trail cuts between boulders. To my left, I saw a little stand of “my” Virginia bluebells that I had to stop and admire, and then, as I got to the bottom of the stairs, I was stunned to realize that all of that green we’d seen from above wasn’t trout lilies after all – it was an absolute carpet of the endangered blue eyed marys! As far as the eye could see, up and down the trail, on both sides of the creek were blue eyed marys. Acres of them! And not just blue eyed mary, but also bent wake-robin, and dwarf larkspur, and Virginia bluebells, and yellow woodland violets, and wild blue phlox, and mayapples, and twinleaf, and dutchmen’s breeches, and wood spurge, and squirrel corn, and … more blooming flowers packed into each square foot than I could have ever imagined.
Virginia Bluebells
Carpet of Blue Eyed Mary
Riot of Flowers
The trail tees into a path that leads both ways along a creek. We wandered downstream and across the creek, admiring the lush beauty of the forest around us until we got to a road and another stand of shooting stars. We then turned around, retraced our steps back to the tee and went the other way until the trail ends next to a small bluff. It was almost funny how we’d walk along and say, “Oh here’s just some more trillium,” or “hmm more larkspur,” or “oh, back to the bluebells again,” when just 30 minutes earlier we’d been fawning over a single tiny handful of blue eyed mary and marveling over each and every trillium. It was an embarrassment of floral riches.
Riot of flowers
Shooting Star
Wood Spurge
Larkspur and Phlox
End of the trail
The only thing that could have made this trail better would have been benches so that you could safely sit someplace and absorb all the beauty. The ground was so covered with flowers, there was no place off the narrow trail where you could step without tromping on something beautiful. Taylor Hollow is the most magical place I think I’ve ever been. It might be a bit out of the way, and it might require a bit more planning to visit, but boy is it worth it.
Eagle Creek and Deer Skull Falls, Sipsey Wilderness
Regular readers of this blog will know that Ruth and I are always on the lookout for adventures in the Bankhead National Forest. We’ve hiked quite a few trails in our closest National Forest, and decided that a recent rare dry weekend day would be a good time to try an off-trail jaunt to a couple of waterfalls we’ve never visited in the Sipsey Wilderness portion of the Bankhead.
It’s not difficult to find photos and descriptions of waterfalls in the Bankhead, and after a little research I found an account posted by a geocacher of a trip to Eagle Creek Falls and Deer Skull Falls. I’d heard of Deer Skull Falls, but didn’t know anything about Eagle Creek Falls, and since it was a relatively short hike to visit them both we decided to try something a little more rugged than our usual fare.
One of my pet peeves about Internet posts about off-trail places in the Bankhead is when people post photos and vague descriptions of how to get somewhere, peppered with various disclaimers to the effect of “this is a wonderful place, but I won’t tell you how to get there yourself because it’s so dangerous and only a very experienced hiker such as myself could possibly get there safely.” Poppycock! Yes, there are inherent risks in hiking in general and backcountry hiking in particular, but if you go in with sufficient information, proper equipment, and a tiny bit of common sense you’re generally going to be fine. Having said that, this off-trail hike is easily manageable for most hikers in decent shape, so don’t let the lack of a groomed trail keep you from visiting these Bankhead treasures.
So what are the must-knows about this hike? Access is easy, right off Cranal Road (more about that later), but the trail is poorly marked at first, then isn’t marked at all. In fact, after about 1/3 of a mile there isn’t really a trail to speak of. Instead, you’ll be navigating alongside a creek for most of this hike, with frequent water crossings over a relatively shallow creek (depending on rainfall, naturally). 
Since you’re going to be off-trail most of the time, good footwear is a must. You’ll need something stable like boots or trail runners, but the key thing is to be able to avoid wet feet (or have a plan for embracing the wet feet and bring water shoes to change into). The creek crossings are generally pretty easy and at least at the time of our visit in late March, the creeks were rarely more than shin-deep at worst, and usually not more than shoe-top deep. The total hike is about 3 miles, 1.5 miles point to point, returning the same route. About 2.3 miles of that distance will be on a creekbank or in the creek itself.
This is a relatively short hike, but be sure to allow plenty of time because your progress will be slower than usual as you will pick your way across the creek dozens of times (not exaggerating). I also strongly recommend hiking poles or at least a walking stick for stability. The incline/decline on this hike is minimal, especially after you make your way from Canal Road down into the hollows. Also, because there is no marked trail, you’d be wise to carry a map and/or GPS, though the navigation is really simple.
So, let’s start hiking! First, you’ll need to get to the starting point. We made our usual approach to the Bankhead from the east, taking Highway 36 west through Hartselle until it tees into Highway 33 in Wren (the corner with the Warrior Mountain Trading Post). After turning south (left) on Highway 33, in about 9.6 miles turn right onto Cranal Road (County Highway 6). 
Cranal Road forms most of the southern border of the Sipsey Wilderness. About 2.4 miles after passing the Sipsey River Recreation Area (last restroom access), FS Road 212 on the left (marked with a sign for Wolfpen Camp) is one potential parking spot to access the trailhead. The actual starting point for this hike is on the right (north) side of the road about 100 yards farther to the west, where there’s a small dirt pullout into the woods that can accommodate two or three vehicles, so you might be able to park there.
The dirt pullout immediately forks as it enters the woods. Both forks quickly dead-end. You’ll want to take the fork to the left (the one perpendicular to Cranal Road). 
This is obviously an old dirt road, but it quickly narrows into a track with an easily-discernible footbed. The trail is not marked as such, but you might spot some orange flagging tied to a small tree, or even spot a faded white paint blaze or two.
The trail heads due north for about 300 feet before turning west and beginning a gradual descent into a hollow. This section of the trail has a few downed trees, easily crossed or circumvented. There are signs of a recent fire on the north side of the trail, though I don’t think this is from the Big Tree wildfire of October 2015. 
A small rivulet began running just off the left side of the trail as we descended, gradually growing into a streamlet. After descending 140 feet in elevation in about .4 miles from the trailhead, the trail’s footbed pretty much ceases as the streamlet flows into Eagle Creek, which flows west to east. Turn right to follow Eagle Creek downstream. For clarity’s sake, in the following paragraphs when I refer to the left or right bank of the creek, it’s from the perspective of facing downstream.
At this point, the next .25 miles of the hike is a series of creek crossings as the banks narrow on one side, then the other. It’s not difficult to find a route, and it’s easier (and more scenic) to walk along the creek banks than to try to find a way higher up the slope. At .65 miles from the trailhead, a feeder creek flows into Eagle Creek from the west, and a large flat area on the right bank of Eagle Creek is an obvious camping area, with a fire ring. We continued on past the camping area on the right bank, and about 350 feet downstream we reached our first waterfall, Eagle Creek Falls.
From photos I had seen I knew this was a cascade-type fall, so I didn’t expect much. But the photos don’t do it justice! Eagle Creek roars over an approximately 20-foot drop, about 30 feet wide, with a shallow jade green plunge pool at the bottom. The trail descends the left side of the falls (from the perspective of facing the falls), with a couple of big stepdowns to manage. Once at the bottom of the falls, there’s plenty of room to wander and admire, and we spent several pleasant minutes there resting and taking photos.
We continued down the right bank of the creek after Eagle Creek Falls (the left bank quickly becomes too steep to navigate), following the creek as it wound past overhangs and the ever-pleasing interplay of mosses and shadows. Another waterfall drops down from a small fold on the right bank about 450 feet downstream of Eagle Creek Falls, though we didn’t explore this particular one. Instead, we kept zig-zagging from bank to bank, heading downstream.
Now we must pause for a moment while I ruminate on a matter of comparative physiology. I’ve always maintained that the female of our species has a more highly-evolved brain, and I proffer my own wife as an example. There she was, about 50 yards ahead of me, just starting to navigate a tricky crossing of Eagle Creek – evaluating options, looking downstream to plan her next several moves. She was probably also processing many other things in the background unrelated to the business at hand — who can say what happens in the highly-evolved brain during a moment of zen? I, on the other hand, was putting my primate brain to a more basic task, which means as usual I was the one who saw the snake she must have just stepped over or past. 
“I’m thinking that it might be better to head upstream, then cross on those rocks over there, because the right bank looks like it’s flattening out. We’ll make better progress there,” she called out, pointing the way. “Snake!” I croaked, no doubt baring my teeth in an apish grimace. “Where?” she cried, seeing that I had left out a vital piece of information. “Up here, by me,” I hooted. It was a lovely little brown water snake, I think — definitely non-venomous, and not in the least bit threatened or in any hurry to get out of my way. It was about three feet long, and well camouflaged against most non-monkey brains. I bring this up because this is at least the fourth time I’ve seen a snake after (or as) Ruth walked past or over it, oblivious. I detoured around little beauty, and we both went our merry way.
About .25 miles from Eagle Creek Falls, we could hear another waterfall plunging down a canyon cleft on the left side of the creek. This one seemed worth checking out, so we detoured just a few feet to admire what is probably a seasonal fall that drops around 40 feet or so as a feeder creek empties into the canyon.
After resuming our trek down Eagle Creek, we came to a point where it looked as if the creek flowed into a cliff face. It actually just makes an abrupt bend to the right, flowing at shoe-top height over a broad, flat shelf. As we pondered whether we should make another crossing here, we met a group of hikers on their way out and watched them just plod across the creek with no worries about getting wet feet. 
Inspired by their example, and frankly a little fed up after all the creek crossings, I suggested that since we had brought water shoes we might as well put them to use. Off came the boots, and we put on the Keens and just strolled down Eagle Creek. Yes, it was a little cold at first but much better than our usual January or February Sipsey creek crossing.
The creek was a little deeper here, with one or two tiny dropoffs of about a foot, but still we were making good progress with good footing. The creek is mostly flowing over a series of flat shelves here, so you could probably do this barefoot if need be. About .25 miles past the abrupt bend, or .6 miles from Eagle Creek Falls, Little Ugly Creek flows in from the west. 
Eagle Creek and Little Ugly Creek merge at this point, continuing east to soon drain into the Sipsey Fork. Our next waterfall lies upstream on Little Ugly Creek, so we turned left (west). Though there are no formal trail markers at this junction, there’s an unmistakable marker of a rock stuck through a split in a sapling on the left bank of Eagle Creek. There is also a faint orange paint blaze on a larger tree nearby.
We splashed our way upstream on Little Ugly Creek, for which I’ll make the obligatory comment about how the creek isn’t ugly at all. Though not as wide as Eagle Creek at this point, it is deeper in some spots, so we took a more amphibious route. After about .1 mile, we came to Deer Skull Falls.
Deer Skull Falls is actually two waterfalls. To the left, Little Ugly Creek drops over a shelf maybe about 10 feet tall, plunging into a deep blue pool. To the right, an unnamed feeder creek cascades from high above, with a final plunge of about 15-20 feet into a shallow pool. The two waterfalls are separated by a rock outcropping which would lead one to believe that the two falls have the same water source, but that’s not the case. Both falls have striking red-orange patches in the rock face, which I’ve seen described as iron-rich mineral deposits.
It’s pretty amazing to see two such different, photogenic waterfalls in a 1.5 mile walk from the road. It was a little too cool to pop into the Little Ugly Creek-sourced Deer Skull Fall’s plunge pool, but I bet it would be a superior swimming hole. I’ve read accounts of people continuing upstream on Little Ugly Creek to find rock shelters and possibly even remains of stills, but there isn’t an obvious trail and we didn’t have time for further explorations. We met a couple at the falls who had bushwhacked their way from the Johnson Cemetery on Trail 202, so that is an option for getting to Deer Skull Falls, though you’ll have to thrash your way up and down some steep slopes. We retraced our steps down Little Ugly Creek, keeping to the banks this time, and turned upstream on Eagle Creek to make our return.
There is one tricky bit of navigation to handle as you retrace your route. Unfortunately, our GPS had conked out so we couldn’t confidently retrace our route back to the hollow we followed on our way in. We knew we’d just need to look for a hollow with a creek flowing into Eagle Creek from the east, after we had passed Eagle Creek Falls and the camping area. The first such little hollow had a creek, but didn’t seem to have a reliable footbed. I scouted about 100 feet up the hollow and actually spotted a faded orange blaze on a tree, but it didn’t seem right. We continued upstream on Eagle Creek, and within a couple of minutes came to some creek crossings that we recognized, and the next hollow had a faint footbed that eventually led us back uphill to the trailhead.
So we had quite the little adventure — a moderate hike, with little elevation change, and two gorgeous waterfalls (not counting a couple more seasonal falls), all off the beaten path. It was another glorious day in the Sipsey, which never disappoints.
Quick Look: Lawson Branch Loop
Woodlands and Waters 