Watch Out! Quillan Creek

Many years ago now, when we first started using the map app Waze, we were sometimes able to download celebrity voices to use instead of the standard one. For one trip that was going to take us through some particularly deadly dull stretches of road, we decided to amuse ourselves by downloading the Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. He turned out to be pretty entertaining. In Waze, whenever there is a pothole or a car parked on the shoulder, the standard  voice will give you a warning like, “watch out – pothole ahead.” With Aaaahnold as the voice, though, this turned in to a somewhat terrifying “WATCH OUT!!! GET DOWN!!” shouted at top volume, usually at some point where you’d been lulled into complacency because absolutely nothing of interest was happening. It certainly kept us on our toes!

Now what does this story have to do with hiking in the Tennessee Valley? Bear with me a bit and you’ll find out.

Though Covid-19 is raging all around the country, Alabama is not yet under a mandatory shelter-in-place order. However, Chet and I have both been working from home for the last week or so either because we were requested to (Chet) or simply encouraged to (Ruth). It’s been going OK but being cooped up in the house 24-7 is starting to get to us a bit. I took the dog out for a walk when it wasn’t raining, carefully keeping my distance from all my other neighbors taking a break from their own four walls, but that’s not enough “outside” for me. We were both determined to find a way to take a hike this past weekend. We’d heard from friends that trails in Huntsville were crowded and one friend reported seeing 40 cars parked in the tiny parking lot at Rainbow Mountain in Madison on Thursday. It was obvious that if we wanted to keep “social distancing” we’d have to go farther afield. Naturally, our thoughts turned to the Sipsey Wilderness – nearly 25,000 acres of wilderness surrounded by another 150,000 acres of Bankhead Forest and Black Warrier WMA, all just a couple of hours away. We’d read a book recently about some of the more “off the beaten path” parts of the Sipsey, and Quillan Creek looked like a gorgeous place to explore. It’s not on any of the “official” trails, which made it sound more likely to be isolated. Plus with all the rain we’d been having, the promised cascades and waterfalls on the creek were bound to be in great form.

Quillan Creek is on the western part of the Sipsey, reachable by going past the picnic area and the Randolph Trailhead until Cranal Road (County Road 6) runs into Kinlock Road (County Road 3434). Both the picnic area and the Randolph Trailhead, as well as the unofficial parking area for Eagle Creek and Deer Skull Falls, had plenty of cars parked in their lots or along the road. Kinlock Road is narrow and barely paved for the first couple of miles, then turns to dirt. Even here, though, we saw several cars parked at Parker Falls and Kinlock Falls, and passed or drove behind several more vehicles. Lots of folks were out and about!  Finally, we turned on to the North West Road (County Road 3) and headed towards Thompson Creek. All we knew about the place we were looking for was that it was where the old Arnold Motorway crossed and should be a couple of miles down the road. We spotted a likely candidate, except that where we were expecting to see a roadway or trail to our right, we instead saw a tent and campsite set up. Minding our social distance, we drove on just a bit in case that wasn’t really it. Of course, it was, so we had to drive all the way to the Thompson Trailhead to turn around.

We parked on the part of the Arnold Motorway on the north side of the North West Road, and walked over to talk to the campers. Turns out there is a trail there – it was just hidden by their parked car. They were a father and daughter up from Auburn social distancing by camping in the Sipsey. We chatted a bit with them and gave them some ideas about some places in the area they might want to try to find, and as we were talking two more cars pulled up and parked behind our truck. Two people hopped out with a map of the Quillan Loop – they were planning the same thing we were! They went on ahead as we strapped on cameras and backpacks so they were far down the trail before we even started, but this hike was not starting out to be as isolated as we’d thought it would be.

 

Our plan was to hike a 4.9 mile loop that goes south to Quillan Creek, along that creek past Quillan Cascade and Big Cascade to the junction with Riddle Creek, then up to Riddle Falls, and back up to the North West Road. The first part of this unofficial loop is on the old roadbed of the Arnold Motorway. Try as I might, I have been unable to find any information about when this motorway was in service or where it went. What’s left makes a nice trail, though there were many trees down across the path. About a mile down the ever-fading roadbed, we ran into Quillan Creek. It’s a lovely spot, with a small tributary flowing in from the right. Just up the tributary was a small cascade, so we waded across the creek to take some pictures of it. I was very excited to spot a turtle in a hole up on the small rock bluff, but further investigation revealed that this was just a turtle shell, not a live turtle. We waded back across the creek and followed a pretty well-worn footbed along the creek. While not an official trail, enough folks come this way that the pathway is pretty distinct – at least at first.

 

The path we followed led right along the creek, but required several creek crossings as one bank or the other would turn into a rock bluff. At the first of these crossings – just downstream of a pretty little cascade – I made a fateful decision. Hoping to avoid a slight delay by not bothering to unboot and get in my water shoes, I ended up in water over my boots. Soaking wet feet are not a whole lot of fun on a hike! At the next crossing, I took the time to put on my water shoes and then just left them on for quite a while, giving my boots and poor soaked socks time to dry out a bit. I was still wringing water out of my socks an hour later though.

 

After another pretty cascade, it seemed like we’d be best off hiking uphill away from the creek. This meant that we were basically bushwhacking through the briars, but it gave us some pretty top-down views of the creek and a series of small cascades. Soon, though, another gorgeous cascade appeared ahead of us and we ditched the high road to clamber down closer to the creek. There were actually three cascades in a row, a medium one, then a small one, then a bigger one.  We spent some time enjoying them and their setting (including the lovely bridge that mother nature thoughtfully provided between two big rocks), then had a choice to make – uphill again, or take our chances along the river. We opted for uphill.

 

We were again in the land without a trail – even a faint one – pushing through underbrush and briars to make any progress forward. It’s exhausting. We spotted a pretty skinny waterfall across the ravine, but it proved to be difficult to get a good picture of. The slope eased a bit and we climbed down a small rock outcropping to find that there was a pretty reasonable trail almost level with the creek. Since this was all taking much longer than we’d budgeted for, time-wise, we decided we’d try to find the Big Cascade and then just retrace our steps back out. We vowed to take the trail by the river going back.

 

Soon we came to the biggest cascade yet, with a bonus beautiful waterfall on a side creek. We took a bunch of pictures and then reviewed the map. As best as I could tell, we were at the spot on the map marked “Quillan Cascade,” with “Big Cascade” still ahead of us. Looking downstream, the route along the creek looked impossible to me. Maybe I’m just a big old baby, but the only options were to walk in the creek (which was a rushing torrent at this spot so too dangerous), or pick our way along an 80 foot slab of rock that may or may not have actually had a footpath big enough to follow — 20 feet above the river. No way was I going to risk either one.

 

We were so close to the big cascade, though, that we decided to try for it by heading uphill again. We climbed up a small rock ledge and headed straight uphill to find … a faint roadbed! It didn’t last for long, but we were able to follow it to the highest point close to where we thought the Big Cascade should be. We could hear water somewhere down below, but couldn’t see it, and made the tough decision to give up. It was getting late, and we were in uncharted territory – not the place to risk getting lost after dark. We decided to try following our newly discovered road, since it headed in the right direction to get us back to the Arnold Motorway. It didn’t last very long in the other direction either though, and here again, we made a fateful decision – one I wouldn’t make the next time out. We decided not to backtrack and follow the path along the river as we’d sworn to do, but to instead bushwhack overland in a roughly north/northeast direction, staying on ridgetops until we came to Arnold Motorway.

This is where I sort of wished we’d had the Aaahhhnold voice to guide us. There would have been a lot of “WATCH OUT”s happening, I can tell you that. Chet fell hard, twice, but thankfully didn’t really hurt himself or lose important things like truck keys in the leaf litter. I got tangled up in briars and vines, and got grouchier by the minute. We were navigating mostly by the AllTrails app on Chet’s phone, which was nearly out of battery power. My phone was OK, battery wise, but we only had the compass on that. I’m not sure the GPS carabinered to the pack would have helped all that much more, but we did have that as well. After what seemed like an eternity, we came out on the gloriously briar-free Arnold Motorway just a few minutes’ hike from where we’d parked the truck. I suppose in some ways, “Arnold” did guide us home after all!

All in all, this was a good half-hike – as in the first half was wonderful. We hiked a grand total of 3.9 miles in something like 5 hours. Some of that was enjoyable time spent admiring and photographing the creek, but some of that was the horribly slow pace we were on while pushing through all the briars and underbrush. It seems some folks try this loop from the other direction – down from the road to Riddle Falls first, then up Quillan Creek. I’ll have to try it sometime and see if that’s easier. Next time, though, I’m sticking to the creek!

 

 

Quick Look: Hurricane Creek Park

 

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Trail Name: Creek Trail, North Highland Trail, Ridge Trail, Heaven’s Staircase Trail, Hurricane Trail

Location: Vinemont, AL

Length: Loops of varying distance, up to 3.5 miles

Rating: Mostly easy, with some steep staircases

Points of interest:  Wildflowers, creek views, wet weather waterfalls, picnic areas, rock overhangs, “Twilight Tunnel”

Blog Post:  Labor of Love: Hurricane Creek Park

Also see website added since our last visit:  Hurricane Creek

 

Planted by Lightning: Mushroom ID Hike on Rainbow Mountain

“There’s a legend of the first peoples,” said Matt Shaw, “that morels were planted by lightning, because they always grew after a heavy rain and a few hours of sun.”  Matt is a naturalist with Ecologic Solutions, and he was leading a members-only hike for the Land Trust of North Alabama on their Rainbow Mountain Nature Preserve in Madison. We were on our second Land Trust guided hike for the spring season.  These free hikes are just about the hottest ticket in town.  Offered in the spring and fall, the hikes feature local historians, scientists, naturalists, and Land Trust staff and trustees on a variety of preserves, with topics covering a wide range of interests.  The hikes are first privately advertised to Land Trust members for a week before being made available to the general public for registration.  The truth is that the hikes pretty much fill up just with Land Trust members, and it’s unlikely that you’ll get a spot as a member of the general public.  So for that reason alone, it’s worth your while to throw a few dollars their way.

The theme of our hike was mushroom identification, and a group of around 30 of us met at the Rainbow Mountain pavilion.  Matt is enthusiastic about the fungi kingdom, noting that the Southeast is a particularly diverse place for fungi.  Mushrooms are actually only a small part of the fungi kingdom, which also includes yeasts and molds; in fact, mushrooms are actually the fruiting body of various species within a couple of orders of the fungi kingdom.  He reviewed the role of mushrooms in the mycorrhizal network, which is the network that connects various plants together for the transfer of water and nutrients.  It’s a symbiotic relationship, to an extent.  Trees supply sugar to the fungi, and fungi provide nutrients to the trees, via networks that can span miles underground.  However, trees generally aren’t keen on hosting mushrooms, so their presence on trunks or branches is often the sign of a dead or dying tree.

We departed the pavilion on the Rainbow Loop Trail, and within 30 yards came to our first example, several large clumps of violet toothed polypores clinging to the trunk of a felled tree next to the playground.  These particular specimens were bleached mostly white (as opposed to the more showy violet of some specimens), notable by the tiny holes on their undersides and their comb-like structure.  Mushroom ID tip #1: always look at the underside of a mushroom.  The presence of pores or gills, and the consistency (smooth? paperlike?) are identification keys.

We continued down the trail another 50 yards or so, pausing by a sandstone wall covered in wall lichen.  Lichens are taxonomically grouped with fungi, but lichens are actually a composite organism made up of an algae living inside the filaments of a fungus.  So they’re neither fish nor fowl, nor plant nor fungus.  Though we had had recent rain, the last few days before the hike had been dry.  We were hiking in the afternoon, which meant we weren’t under peak conditions for finding mushrooms, so for our purposes, lichens were close enough!  Here Matt shared mushroom ID tip #2: mushrooms often grow on north-facing slopes.

As a naturalist, Matt was very familiar with the plant life on our hike, identifying various trees and wildflowers.  Though this wasn’t billed as a wildflower hike, he pointed out a few along the way: cranesfly orchid, crossvine, and spotted wintergreen, for example.

We continued south along the Rainbow Loop trail, passing just below the rocky top of Rainbow Mountain, before turning east onto the Wild trail.  When the trail forked, we turned left, heading north toward the Spring trail.  On this stretch, we found one mushroom (false turkey tail, growing on a fallen tree), and squaw root, a parasitic plant also known as bear corn, which grows up from the roots of oak trees.  Turkey tail is another polypore mushroom very common in north Alabama, and false turkey tail looks similar, with bands of color on the cap, but is distinguished by its smooth underside.

This stretch of trail was one of many that featured resurrection fern, so named for its skill in surviving under very little moisture.  These ferns will dry up and appear lifeless, but then spring back to life after getting some water.

Our route now took us onto the Spring trail, one of my least favorite Land Trust trails due to its steepness, narrowness, and wetness, all of which were on their typical bad behavior.  There were no casualties, but it did have the effect of widely stringing out our group.  At least we had another mushroom sighting at the Wild/Spring junction — a cracked cap polypore clinging to a standing but dead ash tree about 15 feet over our heads.  Mushroom ID tip #3: look up!

The nice thing about the Spring trail was that it was wildflower central for the day, with numerous examples of cutleaf toothwort, hepatica, false garlic, common blue violet, and sweet Betsy trillium in bloom, along with shooting star just days away from blooming. and leatherleaf mahonia early in its fruiting phase.  When we reached the junction with the eastern side of the Rainbow Loop trail, a few of us lingered there to look for mushrooms and admire the wildflowers, while most of the group went with Matt up the trail to a location near the Ja Moo Ko trail where there are some fossils.

Most of the group opted to return to the pavilion by following the Rainbow Loop trail counter-clockwise.  Not being keen on climbing back up the Spring trail, we followed suit, enjoying the company of our fellow hikers, among which numbered a botanist, a retired forester, and a forestry student.  Though we enjoy our solitary hikes, it’s also fun to hike with kindred spirits!

So we didn’t come back with pockets full of delicious morels (and wouldn’t think about it anyway, since foraging on Land Trust properties is strictly verboten), but we gained a little appreciation for the fungi kingdom and its place in the ecosphere.  Research into the medicinal properties of fungi is still in its beginning phases, though there’s a long history of folk medicine remedies.  Modern science is finding that there’s something to the old-timer’s tinctures and salves.  Fungi have been the source of antibiotics (penicillin, anyone?), antiviral drugs, and medicines to treat diabetes, cancer, and malaria.  Fungi are our friends!  But respect them, because it takes expertise and practice to identify which ones are edible and/or medicinal.  A guided hike from the Land Trust is a good start, but we’ll be sticking to supermarket mushrooms in the meantime.  (Well, full disclosure — I hate mushrooms as a foodstuff, but Ruth likes them.)

Here we grow again: Bethel Spring Preserve

A little more than five years ago, in November of 2014, Chet and I took advantage of one of the Land Trust’s “Members Only” hikes out at a new property that they were calling “Cherry Tree.” It was a large property in the southern part of Madison County, off of Cherry Tree Road. The 360 acre property had been owned by the same family for 132 years, but had been donated to the Land Trust so that it could be preserved for the community. It was a beautiful spot, with farmland across the road, an old barn and farmhouse, a lovely little blue-green creek, all snugged up at the base of the southern end of Keel Mountain. The property included some of the farmland, as well as a good bit of the land up onto Keel Mountain, including one of Madison County’s largest waterfalls.  We quite enjoyed our hike that day, and could see great potential for the property.

This past weekend, the Land Trust had a grand public opening of this, their newest preserve, which is now called Bethel Spring Nature Preserve. Much hard work had to go into making the preserve ready for prime time. The barn and the house, sadly, had so much structural damage that they were deemed unsafe and had to be taken down. The house, in particular, had issues because it sat on top of one of the area’s many caves, and the ground below was literally sinking out from under it. Two miles of trails had to be laid in and signed, bridges had to be put in  place over the creek, and best of all, a grant from the Alpha Foundation provided the materials and District 3 Commissioner Craig Hill provided a team from Madison County to construct a large gravel parking lot and a half-mile crushed gravel accessible loop trail on the flat part of the property alongside the lovely little creek.  But all that has been done, and the preserve is now open for exploration from dawn to dusk every day.

As a part of the grand opening, the Land Trust put together three guided hikes for the day. One was a hike to the waterfall, one was a hike around the accessible loop trail, and one was a history-focused hike that also went to the waterfall. Having already done the “just hike to the waterfall option” a few years ago, and again while working with the land stewards to lay in some of the trails, Chet and I opted for the history hike, led by historian John Kvach.

About 20 of us gathered around the fireplace that is all that remains of the homestead while Dr. Kvach laid out a broad overview of the economics of the area in the 1800s. The broad, flat and fertile land in the bend of the Tennessee River was populated by both extremes of the population – the 1800’s version of the 1% were the large land owners, but with large land holdings also came slavery. The majority of the folks who were active in the economy, however, were the small homestead owners. These folks made ends meet any way they could, with hard work, thrift, and innovation. Those who lived up in the hills tended to be people who moved up there to remain as free and independent as they could. They raised hogs, harvested timber, or made whiskey to bring in money.

After that introduction, we headed off on the gravel Carpenter Trail, which runs around an old garage, through a patch of fruit trees and the remains of an old garden, and then along the little creek. We soon came to our first stop – the old spring.  Springs were not only the refrigerators of the day, they were also a social gathering place. It was a great place to come to cool off in the middle of a hot day. This particular day, we also saw the first patch of spring wildflowers – rue anemone, cut-leaf toothwort, and round lobed hepatica.

From the spring, the trail starts the climb up the slope of Keel Mountain, but soon turns to run along a bench on what looks to have been an old road. Dr. Kvach stopped here to talk about what the landscape would have looked like in the 1800s. The forest then was made up of larger trees with less understory growth. The forest as we see it now is a result of the clearing that these early settlers did. He also talked about how the best roads, usually the Federal Roads, were still only about four feet wide and very rutted. Still, being situated near a road of any sort was a boon for a settler.

Somewhere along here the trail changes both name and character. Where the trail switches back and heads uphill, it becomes Falling Sink trail. This part of the trail is quite rocky and steep and in wetter weather can also be slippery. Violets were sprinkled alongside the trail, lending a nice vibrant pop of color in the winter-brown landscape. We also spotted some smoke trees mixed in with the other hardwoods.

Finally, we were at the main event – the waterfall. With all the recent rain, it was really flowing nicely. There was even a third stream of water pouring off the hilltop a bit farther to the left of the main falls. We enjoyed the roaring water, but soon headed off along a new trail that clung to the edge of the large sink and led away from the falls.

After the first slightly tricky bit along the sink, Mill Trail slopes gently downhill to the foundation of an old mill. Here Dr. Kvach filled us in on the importance of the mill to communities all up and down the eastern seaboard. Mills were instrumental in the development of these communities. Some industrious sort would build a mill to grind his wheat or corn, then realize that instead of growing crops in the rocky soil and then grinding his wheat he could simply provide his mill as a service to the community in exchange for a portion of the grain ground. This he could then use for himself or sell. Folks would come to the mill and then have to hang around while their grain was ground, so somebody would usually have the bright idea to build a bar, or a store, or a restaurant. Idle hands waiting for the grain to be ground bred gambling and drinking, so soon the church moved in to counterbalance all that “sin,” and a community was born. We don’t know what kind of mill this was, but it probably was used for multiple things. It could have been set up to grind grain or even saw timber.

After the mill, the trail continues on downhill alongside a dry rocky ravine. I wonder if the water from the falls may have originally run down this gully. Now, water from the falls disappears into the ground below the falls and reappears at the spring at the base of the hill. This part of the trail, like Falling Sink Trail, is fairly steep and rocky so watch your footing!

After passing the spring house again at the base of the hill, Chet and I decided to go ahead and walk the final little piece of the Bethel Spring Loop. We crossed the creek on a new and sturdy bridge, and then walked with a large open field to our left and the beautiful little creek to our right. While this accessible gravel trail doesn’t have the wow factor of the waterfall, it does boast the prettiest landscape view I saw all day.

All told, we hiked every available trail on the property, and our GPS track showed it added up to 1.88 miles. The trails ranged from the very flat and accessible .3 mile Bethel Spring Loop, to the wooded Carpenter Trail, to the steep and rocky Falling Sink and Mill trails. There’s something for everyone here – come check it out!