Sandy and the Cedars: National Public Lands Day 2020

Obviously, we’re big fans of public lands, as we spend most weekends on a trail or on the water. Since 1994, the fourth Saturday in September has been set aside as National Public Lands Day by the National Environmental Education Foundation (NEEF), in coordination with various federal agencies. Now, NPLD is celebrated all over the country, often as a volunteer service day. The Land Trust of North Alabama had a trail building event in their Monte Sano Preserve, but we were both a little too gimpy for trail work this past weekend. Many public lands offer special programs and guided hikes on NPLD, so I had a look at the Tennessee State Parks website to find a nearby short guided hike. So though we weren’t volunteering, the Volunteer State offered a plethora of choices for guided hikes. I had been wanting to make a visit to the Cedars of Lebanon State Park, just a little east of Nashville, and as a bonus there was also a guided hike at the nearby Sellars Farm State Archaeological Area in Watertown. Jackpot! We could get in a couple of short hikes at places we’ve never visited.

Both events were free, but there was a cost: since they were scheduled events, we had to get up earlier than is our custom (well, Ruth’s custom) on weekends. She agreed to make the sacrifice, so we were rolling a little after 7:30 for the 2.25-hour drive to Sellars Farm. The route is simple enough — I-65 north to I-840 east, over to I-40 east for three exits onto Sparta Pike, then head south for just short of 2 miles before turning left onto Poplar Hill Road. The entrance to the gravel parking lot is marked by a sign a little under .5 mile down the road. We joined two other attendees and our guide, Phil Hodge.

I knew from pre-registering for the event that Phil is an archaeologist. I don’t think he mentioned it in his introduction to the group, but he is in fact the Tennessee State Archaeologist and Director of the Tennessee Division of Archaeology. So yeah, he knows his prehistoric and historic archaeology in general, and he was the best-informed person on the planet when it came to Sellars Farm.

Sellars Farm is one of five State Archaeological Areas in Tennessee, and is administered by the nearby Long Hunter State Park. It’s free and open to the public, seven days a week until sunset. The parking lot can easily hold ten or more vehicles, and the entrance to the site is obvious from the parking lot — it’s a large kiosk with informative displays on the history of the site and its archaeological context. One panel tells the story of “Sandy” — a stone statue of a kneeling man, expertly carved by a Native American artist between 1250 and 1350 CE. Sandy was found on the farm in 1939, and is actually one of a pair of very fine statues, both of which are on display at the McClung Museum at UT-Knoxville. Sandy is also kind of a big deal — he is the Tennessee State Artifact, as declared by law in 2014. Another pair of similar statues was also found at the farm.

Sellars Farm is significant because it is the easternmost of several Cumberland Culture village sites. The village has been dated to between 1000 and 1300 CE, and at least three mounds are visible on the property. The most prominent is the platform mound, a flat-topped mound that rises 15 feet above the fields. Either the ruler’s residence or a religious structure would have topped this mound. Today, the mound is topped by trees and vegetation, and climbing onto the mound is forbidden. The site was first excavated in 1877 by Frederic Ward Putnam for Harvard’s Peabody Museum, and damage from that trench threatens the mound’s stability. There is also a smaller burial mound near the ceremonial mound, in which around 60 stone box graves were found by Putnam. A third small mound is nearly covered in vegetation, northeast of the platform mound. Phil pointed out that its purpose is unknown; in fact, it could be the spoil from Putnam’s 1877 excavation.

Our tour began at the kiosk, and we then followed a wide mown path north along a fenceline. The field to the east was not mown, which meant it was a riot of late summer/early fall asters and other wildflowers. Aromatic snakeroot and slender dayflower were in copious bloom. The trail follows an unpaved road past a pair of portajohns, then passes through a wooded area for a little over 100 yards, with a bend of Spring Creek visible downhill through the trees. The village sat on a bend of Spring Creek, which is a tributary of the Cumberland River. This put it on a trade route, and the creek provided fresh water, fish, mussels, and a defensive position.

Along the way, Phil briefed us on the history of the farm, which began as a Revolutionary War land grant until it was purchased by the State of Tennessee in 1974. Farming destroyed most of the surface structures, though Putnam’s excavation and later geosensing tools revealed that the site was relatively small, supporting perhaps 500 people at its peak, with multiple houses inside a double-walled palisade. Excavations revealed that the outer wall was earthern, with a ditch separating it from the inner wall, which was a earthen wall topped by a wall made of tree trunks placed vertically.

We emerged from the woods into a much larger field, with a vast array of various asters, with fall phlox, white crownbeard, and tall ironweed mixed in among the various sunflowers. The platform mound was now in site, and we paused by one of the wooden benches placed throughout the property as Phil told us about the daily life of the Mississippian people and answered our questions. Though this was a thriving civilization for hundreds of years, after around 1400 CE the Native Americans in the area began abandoning their villages. When the first Europeans arrived in central Tennessee in the 1500s, they found empty settlements. Modern research at the site (and elsewhere) revealed signs of social stress prior to abandonment, such as more traumatic injuries and signs of disease and malnutrition found in skeletal remains. Climate research shows that a decades-long megadrought and overfarming could have caused agricultural collapse, leading to more raiding parties and dispersal to find new lands to plant and harvest.

Our walk next took us to the platform mound, and we made our way around it to admire it from all angles. We walked a few yards to the west behind the mound (it faces east, where its one-time plaza is now overgrown) to a nondescript area where Phil pointed out a subtle couple of low ridges that mark the only extant remains of the palisade. We then retraced our steps to follow the mown path past the mound to the east, passing a low grass-covered mound on our way to the banks of Spring Creek. The Creek was low, but it was running, and a couple of caves were visible on the other side. They are on private property, so no trespasssing!

Our tour of the site concluded by following the mown path above Spring Creek, passing a historic stacked stone wall along the way before the trail turned south to follow the woodline and return us to the parking area. Phil pointed out that there is one segment of the trail we didn’t cover, which runs along the western side of the property. Total distance of our hike was about 1.25 miles; the western leg would add about another .25 miles. The trails aren’t marked, but they are obvious mown paths. This site is only for hiking; no bikes or horses are allowed. The trails are level, easy walking on a natural surface.

We really enjoyed our tour of Sellars Farm, and especially appreciated Phil’s organized and comprehensive presentation. The two hours flew by! We’ve picked up a few tidbits from our archaeologist daughter and trips to a couple of other mound sites in Alabama, yet we still learned a lot from Phil. For instance, we didn’t know that at least some platform mounds show evidence of having been burned and then built over in a new layer, possibly as a consequence of a change of ruler or religious figure. The platform mound at Sellars was built in three layers, for example. So kudos to the State of Tennessee for having the foresight to purchase and protect this property. Also, we’d like to give a shout out to the folks at the Tennessee Division of Archaeology, who are largely unsung heroes in studying, interpreting, and preserving the state’s historic and prehistoric sites. Your work is appreciated!

Having finished our first NPLD event, we had a little time to get some lunch before making the 15-minute drive over to Cedars of Lebanon State Park. We’re always keen to try local places in general and barbecue places in particular, so we made the short drive up Sparta Pike to Tom’s Blue Moon BBQ. We enjoyed the pulled pork and the flat cornbread (a new thing for us — it’s kind of a hoecake), but I have to say the brisket looked mighty good too. We were too stuffed from lunch to try the Shop Springs Creamery, which you’ll find if you turn south on Sparta Pike from Poplar Hill Road instead of north. It was highly recommended, though, so if you’re in a mood for ice cream instead of barbecue, head in that direction.

Our NPLD event at Cedars of Lebanon was a guided wildflower hike on the Dixon Merritt trail. After a short rest to recover from our barbecue coma, we joined a group of around ten people for a half-mile walk through the cedar glades. Our host was Ranger Sarah, who filled in on short notice when another ranger became unavailable. She gave us a quick background on Dixon Merritt, who was a local humorist and newspaper editor, and also an avid ornithologist. She didn’t mention that he was the author of my dad’s favorite limerick:

A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His bill will hold more than his belican,
He can take in his beak
Enough food for a week
But I'm damned if I see how the helican!

but how could she have known?

The Dixon Merritt trail begins behind picnic shelter #1, and heads northeast before forming a lollipop loop. Very quickly after starting on the trail, a cedar glade opened to the right. Sarah stopped to give us the scoop on cedar glades, which are open areas with gravel, rocks, or thin soil, surrounded by cedar thickets and/or small hardwood groves. They are a feature of the karst landscape found in areas of the Cumberland Plateau, in which thin soils overlay limestone deposits, with crevices forming and growing through the erosion caused by slightly acidic rain. The area is riddled with sinkholes and caves (in fact, there are caves in the park).

The Dixon Merritt trail is pretty much flat, winding through the trees and flanked by fall wildflowers such as blue wood aster, white snakeroot, and white crownbeard (also known as frostweed because of the frost flowers that form around its stem in wintry conditions).

Shortly after splitting to form the loop, the trail arrives at the edge of a creek, continuing along one side on an exposed slab of limestone. It was on the loop that we found our favorite wildflower on this trail, nodding ladies tresses.

The trail is a short one, only .5 miles, so when we finished we still had enough barbecue-fueled energy to try one more short trail. Sarah had recommended the Cedar Glade trail, which is another .5 mile trail that begins next to the Visitor Center. While Sarah provided the interpretive information for our first hike, a kiosk at the trailhead and instructional signs along the trail gave us the necessary background to appreciate what we were seeing on our second hike. (By the way, to judge from the two trails we hiked, this park has the most beautiful trail markers in the system.)

The Cedar Glade trail is an excellent introduction to the park, if you don’t happen to have a ranger handy. We learned that the park is known for its extensive stand of red cedars, and is named for a Biblical reference to cedars in Lebanon. This area is home to one of the largest eastern red cedar forests in the U.S. Like many state parks, the genesis of this one was the Great Depression, during which many agricultural wastelands were reclaimed and reforested by the Works Progress Administration. The demonstration forest and park date from 1935. The trail took us past several more cedar glades, with signs pointing out typical plant and animal life to be found in the vicinity. Sarah had told us about the Tennessee coneflower, a rare flower that was the first one from Tennessee to be designated a federally endangered species. It has recovered somewhat, but is still only found in the cedar glades of the three counties in Tennessee. We were delighted to find it in bloom!

We hiked the Cedar Glade trail counterclockwise, and soon found ourselves approaching the Visitor Center from the east. It was a pleasant and easy walk, with little elevation change, with ample paved parking at the trailhead. Though there are restrooms in the Visitor Center, they are closed for now as a COVID precaution, with restrooms available elsewhere in the park.

On this NPLD, we were once again struck by how lucky we are to live in a country where the actions of volunteers, non-profit organizations, and government employees continue to enrich the lives of its citizenry on a daily basis. It was a good time to reflect on the pioneering efforts of those people who recognized the value of preserving land for public use — people like Dr. Elsie Quarterman, who recognized that cedar glades were ecological wonders instead of waste ground. While I can’t call out individual names, how about a round of thanks to those folks who said, “We can take those washed-out farms in Lebanon and apply modern agricultural practices to them to save the cedar forests, and along the way give people a nice place to enjoy them.” How about a tip of the hat to the someone who said, “You know, if we don’t protect these mounds, someone will just plow them under or dig them up, and we’ll lose the chance to learn about our history.” The work continues today, under the oversight of our generation of visionaries. You don’t have to wait for the next NPLD to pay it forward — donations of time, talent, and treasure are always needed.

The perfect 2020 antidote: West Fork of the Little River

At this point in the year-that-must-not-be-named, we’ve all seen the funny Facebook memes, haven’t we? This is a year with a pandemic, wildfires, major hurricanes, a once-every-17-years cicada emergence, and a massively divisive national election – you name it, if it’s a disaster it seems like we’ve seen it this year. It’s even more important than ever to be able to find a way to escape all that reality and zen out a bit. Everybody has their go-to relaxation fixes, but we do that by heading out for outdoor adventures. Time spent in the quiet of Mother Nature allows us to regroup, catch our breath, and reflect on a bit of beauty for a change.

This past weekend was no exception. We headed to the Desoto Falls Picnic Area to take a relaxing kayak trip up the West Fork of the Little River. This is the only river I can think of where you actually paddle upstream first, then turn around and float back down to the start. Though the weather has been pretty dry, we thought that would actually make things a little easier, so off we went.

The trip over was uneventful, and we arrived at the picnic area to find that there is now a $4 per vehicle access fee. We weren’t aware of this fact (the new policy was put in place in March), but lucky for us, we actually had cash on us so we were able to get in. I have to say, it would have been just like us to be cashless. We’ve had a string of bad luck on our recent weekend outings – finding parks closed when we hadn’t expected them to be, that sort of thing. It would have been very “2020” for us to drive the 2 hours or so to the picnic area, only to be unable to get in.

Our entry fee paid, and the little ticket stashed on the dashboard of the truck, we looked for a parking spot. There are actually quite a few spots available, though it feels a little cramped. Maybe it’s just that we had a big ‘ole truck with a couple of kayaks sticking out the back and that made it a bit harder to maneuver. We ended up being super cautious and looped around to park behind the building. It’s not too long a schlep from there down to the boat ramp where we’d launch from. We brought our own kayaks, but the building is the home of Miller’s Bend Paddle Shack and they will rent you a sit-on-top kayak, complete with paddles and a life vest for a reasonable rate. They’ll even help you get launched.

The launch point is a small but well maintained concrete ramp. Though the impressive Desoto Falls are just over the short wall to the right of the ramp, the water right at the top was calm and we felt no current at all and soon were paddling our way upstream without much effort. It was almost like paddling on a calm lake or pond. Here just above the falls, the river is broad and lined with gorgeous lake houses.

As we moved up the river, it narrows a bit and the banks get less manicured, but the whole route is just beautiful. We paddled easily along, enjoying how the glassy water reflected the trees. At one point, there was a single tree that was turning yellow. It made me think about how absolutely stunning this float must be when the leaves have all turned. That’s a trip for a little later in the fall, for sure.

Unlike our outings on the Flint or the Paint Rock, this river did not come with a resident Blue Heron escorting us down the river. We did, however, see our fair share of wildlife. I noticed the largest hornet’s nest I’ve ever seen hanging from one of the trees (I kept well away from it!), and not one but two snakes swimming in the river. Lucky for us, neither snake headed our way. This was good because we could not remember whether snakes that swim so you can see their bodies on top of the water are the ones that tend to be venomous or not. I looked it up later, and though the post I was remembering did say the ones swimming on top are the ones to watch out for, that post was debunked by a snake expert so I guess it didn’t really matter. We didn’t get close enough to identify in any case. We also saw a squirrel hanging out on a tree branch over the river, and a grand total of ten (!) turtles.

Wildflowers were also in evidence, though it’s harder to get pictures of them from a kayak. Usually by the time I see something, it’s behind me. On this lovely placid stretch of water, though, it was easy to navigate to any spot of color I saw on a bank. We saw cardinal flower, hearts-a-bustin, yellow crownbeard, common winterberry, and purple mist flower.

We also experienced some man-made delights. One river house had a pretty impressive water slide set up on the bank. From another house out of sight up high on the ridge, we heard melodious wind chimes.

After a couple of miles, we came around a corner to see a bridge ahead. Just past the bridge, we could see a dam across the river. We weren’t expecting a dam – I guess I hadn’t done enough research – so we kept paddling towards it to see if it really went all the way across or not. It does. In fact, it’s what they call a “low-head dam.” While it was not the case when we were there, generally these types of dams have water flowing over the top. This is what makes them dangerous – water flows over the dam and then strong circulating currents at the bottom cause a vortex that can flip a kayak and trap people. The day we were there, the water was only flowing at about 4 cubic feet per second. On an average day in the rainy spring, it flows at nearly 179 cubic feet per second. In May, when there were a couple of drowning deaths just downstream in the Little River Canyon, water was flowing at 3510 cubic feet per second. That said, my advice would be turn turn around at the bridge if you see water flowing over the dam ahead.

We headed back downstream, enjoying the same calm water and beautiful views and were soon back to the picnic area. We hauled out our kayaks and headed on home, but if you’re there and haven’t done it already, take the path from the picnic area to the overlook of Desoto Falls. It’s a gorgeous sight!

I came home relaxed and happy, having spent a glorious day in a really beautiful area. It was the perfect antidote to the reality of 2020.

If you see something, do something: Bulldog Trail

Things did not go to plan last weekend. Part of it was poor planning on my part, but part of it couldn’t really be helped. In any case, our planned hike for Sunday just never happened, so I was left with nothing to blog about. Or was I? As it turns out, we had managed to get some outdoor time in on Saturday by doing a bit of trail maintenance for the Land Trust of North Alabama.

Chet and I have a long history of coming out for volunteer trail maintenance days. I enjoy being outside, and it feels good to be doing something helpful for the community. Over the years, we’ve cleared overgrown trails and cut in brand new ones, all under the helpful tutelage of one of the Land Stewards. I think we’re on about our fourth one now, and we’ve learned a lot from each of them.

The last hike we did in August was on the Bulldog Trail in the Chapman Mountain Preserve. We enjoyed ourselves but we did point out some issues we saw – no diamonds, a bit of an overgrown footpath in some places, a bit of trash in others. Nothing big, but when we saw that the next trail care day was going to be on that exact trail, we felt a certain obligation to go help fix some of what we pointed out. Seven of us, plus current Land Steward Lori Pence, set out on Saturday morning, loppers in hand, to clean up that overgrown section. On the hike in, I spotted a few trail diamonds, so that issue has already been fixed.

Pretty new trail diamonds

We also found out from Lori that the plan is to reroute the Bulldog Trail a bit to provide a more maintainable trail. The new route will run higher up the slope and will loop the trail around the mountain and back into the Terry Trail instead of dead ending at the railroad. We also learned that the part of the trail that we thought was the trashiest was not actually part of the current trail, but instead was a part of an old training trail system used by the Forestry Department at A&M. It will not be part of the reroute either.

After about a half-mile hike in from the railroad end of the current trail, we arrived at a pretty overgrown section and got to work. We spread out along the trail, each taking sections. The directions were to clear all the shrubs, vines, small saplings, etc. from the middle of the trail out to three or four feet on each side. This helps to provide a nice wide footbed, and discourages vines, shrubs and branches from growing into the trail. We spent about two hours clearing, and the results speak for themselves – slide the bar over the photo below to compare the before with the after. (And thanks to Lori for sharing these photos with me! I took almost no pictures myself.)

With around 70 miles of trails spread over eight preserves covering 7000 acres, The Land Trust can use all the help it can get! They hold trail care workdays at least once a month and often every couple of weeks. To me, trail maintenance is a win-win-win – I get to be outside in some beautiful areas, the physical labor is just strenuous enough to make me feel like I’ve done something, and the sense of accomplishment at the end of the day is a wonderful thing! If you/re interested, check out their event calendar for upcoming dates and locations.

Batting .400: Daniel Ridge and Slick Rock Waterfalls

We’ve been pretty good during the lockdown and Safer At Home periods, and when our work schedules aligned to give us a four-day holiday weekend, we just had to do something more fun than yet another home improvement project. On a whim, we booked three nights in an inn in Brevard, NC and headed for the mountains!

We didn’t entirely throw caution to the winds — we brought our masks and tried to minimize stops on the way. Friday was driving day, Saturday was touring around the town and countryside day, and Sunday was hiking day. Brevard is a target-rich environment for hiking, with two national forests, a state recreational forest, a wilderness area, and a state park all within a few miles of town. This is truly the land of waterfalls, with 250 within Transylvania County alone. We studied a helpful brochure listing a few of the more popular ones, and decided we’d visit two waterfalls (Rainbow Falls and Turtleback Falls) on a single 3.5 mile hike in Gorges State Park. However, our plans were foiled when we were turned away at the park entrance. North Carolina was enforcing a limit on the number of guests in the park, and we didn’t arrive early enough to make the cut. We stopped at a nearby country store to consider our options. Given that we had no cell service, we used the only source we had — the waterfalls brochure — to come up with a new plan.

We figured that perhaps things would be a little more lawless in a national forest, and there were three waterfalls we might be able to quickly visit, all located near each other on a Forest Service road. So we made our way to FS 475, labelled as a “rough road,” though it wasn’t all that tough for my four-wheel drive truck to navigate. Quick aside — we have a family tradition of naming our vehicles. I’ve had this truck for a year without coming up with a suitable name, but on this trip I made my decision: it shall be known as “Kep,” named for outdoorsman and author Horace Kephart, a well-known name in these parts.

The first waterfall on our revised list was Daniel Ridge Falls (aka Jackson Falls, aka Tom’s Springs Falls), a 150-footer on a loop trail. The plan was to make the hike to the waterfall, which is about .5 miles on a wide graveled trail, then return to Kep and drive down FS475 just a little bit to follow a trail to Cove Creek Falls. After that, there was another easy hike to Slick Rock Falls, after a short drive up an even rougher road, FS475B. Instead of doing a longish hike, we thought we’d do a few short ones instead.

We were able to squeeze to one side of the road not far from the trailhead for the Daniel Ridge Loop, and were soon on our way past the gate on the gravel trail. Within 100 yards we crossed the Davidson River on a wide steel bridge, and shortly afterwards passed through a short section of trail that was flanked by bull thistles just covered in butterflies. We took a few minutes to admire them and try to get that perfect photo.

It was a beautiful day — sunny and around 75 degrees. Folks were swimming in the river and sunning on rocks, and a few had picked out nice camping spots. Just past the thistles, the trail split, with a sign pointing the way to the falls. The Daniel Ridge Loop Trail is a 4-mile route, but like most folks we decided to go for the quick payoff and head to the right toward the falls. The hike is a short one to the falls, about half a mile on a gravel road that trends uphill at an easy grade.

Like most waterfalls, you can hear Daniel Ridge Falls before you actually see it. Just before you reach the falls, the Daniel Ridge Loop Trail diverges from the road and climbs the ridge on the left side of the road. We had read that the loop trail offered impressive views, but at the cost of 800 feet in elevation. Deferring the decision on our return route, we passed the junction and 25 yards later a rough trail to the base of the falls appears on the left side of the road. Ruth went in for a closer look, and I opted to continue down the trail a few more yards to get a more head-on view. Afterwards, we swapped places.

As is often the case, photos don’t really do this waterfall justice. It doesn’t really have a particularly large free drop anywhere along its height — it flows more than it falls. The base is a tiny pool surrounded by boulders and tree trunks, so it’s not a good swimming hole and you can’t pass behind it. Still, it throws up a nice curtain of spray if you get close.

While we were on the trail looking at the fall, we heard a couple of groups of hikers say that there is another waterfall “about 1.5 miles” on up the trail. Some hikers said that the trail connected to the Cove Creek campsite, so we thought we’d change our plans and walk up the road past the waterfall instead of turning back. If we could get a 1.5 mile hike to Cove Creek Falls in, that would save us the trouble of parking the truck again, plus the hike itself had promise. We continued up the gravel road, passing stands of gorgeous late summer wildflowers: great blue lobelia, jewelweed, Loomis mountain mint, healall, Pennsylvania smartweed, purple-stemmed aster, white wood aster, spotted wintergreen, cutleaf coneflower, and others.

About .4 miles after the falls, we came to a three-way junction. To the left, the road continued to the north, up the ridge. The middle choice was an unmarked trail that quickly dropped out of sight. The third choice, to the right, was another unmarked trail that continued to the east, which was the in the general direction of Cove Creek Falls, or so we thought. Figuring that the hikers we had met at the falls had to come from somewhere, we opted to take the right-most trail. Ultimately, this was a mistake. The trail headed south and topped a knob, gradually becoming more overgrown, before turning slightly east and splitting into two routes that both just petered out on the steep slopes of the knob. Clearly, this wasn’t the right choice, and we didn’t have a good map of the area or Internet access, so we made the decision to turn back. All in all, the route out and back cost us .8 miles, but more to the point it carved out a chunk of hiking time. Once we got back to the three-way intersection, we tried the middle route for about 400 feet, stopping at a little cascade before deciding we didn’t have enough info or time to find out if this was the correct route. (Later research shows that it might have worked, except we would probably have teed into another trail and would have no idea of which way to turn to get to Cove Creek Falls.)

Having wasted some good hiking time to little effect, as far as finding waterfalls goes, we retraced our route back to the parking area. Though it was tempting to take the unhiked portion of the Daniel Ridge Loop Trail back to our starting point, that would have required a pretty good climb and about 3.5 more miles of hiking, possibly leaving us in the dark on the trail.

So discretion was the better part of stupidity, I guess. Still, all hope was not yet lost. We had time to make it to Slick Rock Falls, which is literally visible from FS475B. We headed on up this rough road to a small parking area, actually with some spaces available as it was getting late in the afternoon. The yellow-blazed trail starts with steps from the parking area up past a kiosk, at which point the trail splits. To the right, Slick Rock Falls is visible. The trail to the left goes to the south face of Looking Glass Rock, a local landmark and rock climbing site. Again, limited by time, we took the short walk to Slick Rock Falls. This 35-footer is a single-drop waterfall, where a feeder creek drops over a cliff. You can walk behind the falls, but be warned that this is known as Slick Rock Falls for a reason — I put out a hand to steady myself as I took a photo and nearly took a tumble.

After a short visit at the falls, we headed back toward the town of Pisgah Forest and got caught for over an hour in a massive traffic jam. It turns out that we weren’t the only ones out enjoying the woods, waterfalls, rivers, and creeks on Labor Day weekend — who would have guessed? So on a day we had hoped to see two waterfalls, then changed plans to see three other waterfalls, we ended up with a tally of two — less than 1% of the waterfalls in the county. We were batting .400 for the day, which will get you into the Baseball Hall of Fame but isn’t so good for the Waterfall Hall of Fame. I guess we’ll have to come back!

Though we had some bad luck and a lack of advance backup planning, we still had a nice afternoon of hiking. Our GPS track, which I’m not going to post because we don’t want anyone to make the same mistakes we made, had us at about 3.3 miles of hiking for the day. And we ended the day on a good decision — a stop for dinner on our way home at Hawg Wild Barbecue, topped off with a local craft beer, and ice cream from Dolly’s Dairy Bar for dessert. When it came to rewarding ourselves off the trail, we were batting 1.000!

Easy Peasy: Fanning Nature Preserve

Back on July 1, 2020, the city of Huntsville opened its newest nature preserve and the first in west Huntsville – the Fanning Nature Preserve. Named after the late Dallas W. Fanning, former director of urban development for Huntsville, this 58 acre property sits south of I-565 and slightly east of Wall Triana Boulevard, on Old Jim Williams Road SW. Despite being pretty attuned to news of trails and preserves, we somehow missed all the announcements and I had no idea such a place existed until I stumbled across an article someplace online a couple of weeks ago that mentioned it. When I looked it up, I realized it was a mere 15 minutes from my house so I quickly added it to my list of places to check out.

As we watched the weather forecasts for this past weekend, with Hurricane Laura’s storms threatening to soak the valley, we were pretty pessimistic about getting any hiking in. And then I remembered Fanning Nature Preserve. Being so close to the house and with only a couple of miles worth of trail, it seemed likely that we’d be able to find a window of time without too much of a threat of rain and get in a quick hike without getting soaked ourselves. It’s pretty easy to find – head south on Wall Triana and cross over I-565, then look for Trademark Drive a little more than a mile south of the interstate. Turn left on Trademark, then take the first left onto Old Jim Williams. The preserve is about a quarter of a mile down the road, on the right. It did not have a sign that I saw out on the road, but the entrance is still pretty clear. After turning onto the property, you immediately see a nice large gravel parking lot ahead.

We parked and looked over the very nice sign and verified our planned route. The online map (see it here) is slightly different from the one posted, using a different color coding and some different names. We wanted to take the big loop around the property, which is either a combination of the Summer Trail (.126 miles) and the Fowler Trail (1.035 miles) if you use the online version, or just the Main Trail (1.11 miles) if you go by the sign in the parking lot. Interestingly, the trail signs in the park seem to follow the naming convention used in the online map. In any case, we walked back towards the entrance and took the Summer Trail on the left. I should point out that, once again, the Wrights went the Wrong Way. We do seem to make a habit of that. We took the trail to the left, which did not have any signage. The trail to the right had signs, including one that said “Start.” Which we didn’t notice. Oh well, it’s a loop – it shouldn’t really matter which way you go.

I had read a really nice article online at Huntsville.org by Zenovia Stephens about her family’s trip to the preserve soon after it opened. In the article, she mentioned that the trails are stroller friendly. She must not have taken the Summer Trail. While it is a lovely quiet trail through the woods, the footbed is made up of really coarse gravel – almost cobble sized. This probably makes it less likely to wash away in a flood, but it would make it pretty hard to push a stroller. We had no strollers, so we enjoyed this short trail which had a surprising number of wildflowers in bloom. We saw pink wild bean, mistflower, and a stunning cardinal flower.

Soon, the Summer Trail merged into one end of the Fowler Trail and the footbed changed to a cushy mulch-over-gravel arrangement that was easy on the feet, and certainly do-able with a stroller. A side trail (called the Winter Trail on both versions of the map) led left to the green space that sits in the center of the preserve, but we continued straight ahead on the big loop. The trail was flanked by masses of vibrant yellow partridge pea, along with sumac, white crownbeard, and lots and lots of a new-to-me bush called “sericea lespedeza” or bush clover.

We also noticed loads of mushrooms. This has to be the most “mushroom-y” trail I have ever been on! There were all sorts – tiny ones to big ones – and they all seemed to just love growing in the middle of the trail. It was actually difficult to walk down the trail without tromping on them. I’m guessing they hitched a ride with the mulch.

Farther along, we passed a nice-looking bench (we passed several on our walk around the loop) and a couple of trail intersections nicely marked with wooden signs. One led to the green space, and the other pointed the way to the parking lot. We kept to the outer loop, spotting pineweed, giant goldenrod, and a pretty little clouded sulfur butterfly.

We came to a third intersection, where our choice was to keep going straight or turn to the right. Checking the map, we realized that the outer loop we wanted to take actually was the path that turned right. Unlike the sometimes more open area on the earlier part of the trail, after making this turn the Fowler Trail stays in woods. It felt like a more established wood, though maybe I was just imagining that. There weren’t as many wildflowers in this section, but we did see a buckeye fruiting and found a small cluster of bright purple beautyberries.

Soon we were back at the entrance to the preserve. We checked out the 2 acre green space, then packed on up and headed home. According to our GPS track, we’d gone a whopping 1.188 miles, but we hadn’t gotten rained on! All in all, this was a very sweet little preserve. The trails are broad and well maintained and take you through both woods and more open areas. The benches are a nice touch, and there is plenty of room in the green space for kids to run around and burn off some steam. We also spotted a couple of whimsical touches along the way – a wire and fabric butterfly graced a tree on one segment and a fairy house was tucked away off the trail on another. Bring the kids and challenge them to find them!