For the past few weeks, I’ve been struggling to find the right words to tell the story of my hike through Savage Gulf last month. While each of the new hikes I’ve taken this year has had distinguishing features that make that trail unique in comparison to the others, mostly due to terrain or scenery, this one stands out for a few reasons unrelated to the spectacular views. In addition to claiming the title of 2018’s most challenging hike so far, this is the only hike I’ve taken this year that I wouldn’t feel comfortable revisiting alone. Although I’m becoming increasingly confident on my own in the wild, even on difficult or remote trails, I’m grateful that I didn’t attempt this one solo, for several reasons. You’ll learn more about those soon enough.
Savage Gulf State Natural Area is immense, and home to multiple converging gulfs and more than 50 miles of trails along the rim and through the rocky depths below. Located in Grundy County, Tennessee (you know the place, where John Michael Montgomery found love with a ruby red lipped blonde at an auction), Savage Gulf is out there. To put it into perspective, we spent the second half of the two-hour journey to this destination on country back roads, two lanes (if that) and no cell signals.
We selected a combination of three trails: Stone Door, Big Creek Gulf, and Big Creek Rim. Recommended by my beloved hiking guide, AllTrails, this route forms a lollipop loop, covering nearly 10 miles of pristine wilderness along the rim of Savage Gulf and down through the dry creek bed at the bottom. With 1,500 feet of elevation change along the trail, most of which happens during brief segments of incredibly steep canyon walls, this one ain’t easy. However, Savage Gulf is considered by many as one of Tennessee’s premier destinations for back country hiking, and after my experience here, I wouldn’t argue against it.
Our journey started on the Stone Door Trail, and easy one mile trek that provides access to several trailheads of more remote paths along and through the gulf. At the end of this trail, we encountered one of the area’s most expansive overlooks and the trail’s namesake feature, the Stone Door. A large split, 100 feet deep and as much as 15 feet wide in spots, separates a massive section of cliff from the gulf’s main rock wall. A narrow bridge crosses over the split and provides hikers with access to this area, which juts out into the gorge and offers panoramic views across Savage Gulf.
At the end of the Stone Door Trail, the path splits and offers hikers two options: the Big Creek Rim Trail on the right and the Big Creek Gulf Trail on the left. We opted for the latter, operating with the mentality that we’d tackle the more challenging trail first. These trails connect at opposite ends to form a loop, but I’d recommend hiking clockwise, as we did, or you’ll end this tough 7.5 mile stretch with a punishing uphill climb out of the canyon.
The initial descent on the Big Creek Gulf Trail drops more than 100 feet through the Stone Door, a fascinating passageway formed by the deep split beneath the bridge we crossed to access the overlook. Before our visit to Savage Gulf, I’d read about the amazing views we’d take in on our hike, but I came across little mention of Stone Door. I was expecting a relatively unsubstantial arch but felt thrilled and awestruck when I witnessed the magnitude of this colossal natural wonder.
After we emerged from the bottom of the Stone Door, Megan and I quickly realized that our descent into the gulf had only just begun. We didn’t realize at the time, however, that the two hikers we passed traveling up through the Stone Door would be the last people we’d see until after we climbed back out of the gulf, four miles later. Solitude can be transcendent and invigorating on a hike, and while heavy crowds can ruin the natural ambiance, sometimes it’s reassuring to know that you aren’t totally alone in a remote wilderness. The lack of foot traffic we encountered on the Big Creek Gulf Trail made me wonder: If I were alone and became injured or lost, how long would it take for someone to find me here? It sounds dramatic, but more experienced adventurers have run into trouble in less remote areas, so it’s hard not to think about the “what ifs”.
The terrain in the gulf is very uneven, as the path constantly leads up and down small inclines and over loose rock. Rainy weather had passed through the area the night before our hike and into the morning, so everything was wet. The bottom of the gulf receives little sunlight due to to the density of the forest rising above it, so we moved forward with caution, slipped a few times, but luckily avoided any injuries.
About half way through the Big Creek Gulf Trail, we encountered a spur trail to Greeter Falls. The sign didn’t indicate the amount of distance to the falls, which led us to believe that this would be a short detour. We decided to go for it and started down the path, which led across the vast dry creek bed that runs parallel to the main trail. The rocky creek bed was damp from the rain, but wide enough to create a significant break in the trees and allow sunlight to shine through. Maggie was off her leash at this point, because there weren’t any other hikers around and we thought she may enjoy cooling off in water if any had collected in the creek bed after the rain.
Before we started across the creek bed, Megan casually said, “I’m surprised we haven’t seen any snakes on all these rocks, this seems like the kind of place where we’d see them”. Guess what happened next… A few short minutes later, we were half way across the creek bed and spotted two copperheads, coiled up together and watching us from a rock only a few feet away. Although we’d been looking out for snakes, we didn’t see these, because of the way they were positioned on the rock, until we’d already passed them. There’s no mistaking that they were copperheads, a venomous species with arrow-shaped heads and golden cat-like eyes.
We weren’t within striking distance, so we had no reason to be concerned for our own safety, but we knew that if Maggie noticed the snakes and went over to investigate, that probably wouldn’t end well. Plus, copperheads are known as social snakes, meaning that they tend to nest and move in groups. If you see one, there are probably more close by. We quickly put Maggie back on the leash and abandoned our detour to Greeter Falls.
Not long after returning to the main trail, we encountered a short path leading to a section of the creek bed that actually had water flowing through it. This little oasis provided a welcome stop for rest and rehydration during our journey across the otherwise dry bottom of the gulf. However, the water flowed against the direction in which we were headed, a clear indication that our long uphill journey out of the gulf was about to begin.
Honestly, the climb out of the gulf was brutal. I wish I could say that scenery and stamina made it easy to push through, but this section of the trail was hard. The loose, rocky terrain that had presented a somewhat appealing challenge along the bottom of Savage Gulf transformed into a precarious balancing act as the gradient increased. We were so focused on the ascent that we barely had the capacity to take in the surrounding views. One thing that we did notice: another snake. Unlike the first two, this one was just a harmless garden snake, no more than a foot long and so still that Maggie didn’t notice it, even off the leash.
Shortly after emerging from the depths of Savage Gulf, the Big Creek Gulf Trail merges with the Big Creek Rim Trail, a flat and easy 3-mile path that provides multiple vantage points for panoramic views across the area. We stopped several times along this trail to gaze across the gulf and bask in the realization of the treacherous (but completely magnificent and worth every step) journey that we’d just experienced. Our hike through the bottom of the gulf, as incredible and wild as it was, involved significant risk and uncertainty that was absent along the rim.
In conclusion, there wasn’t one specific thing that would prevent me from attempting this trek by myself, but a combination of several factors. Naturally my first venomous snake sighting on a hike this year plays a contributing role. Megan and I were so close to these snakes before we noticed them, despite the contrast between their copper coloring and the grey stone of the creek bed, which makes me wonder how many other snakes we passed without realizing it. Loose rocks cover the floor of the gulf and dominate the terrain on the trail, creating an ideal habitat for snakes.
Additionally, Megan and I hiked four miles through the bottom of the gulf without seeing any other signs of human life, and we both lost cell service before we’d even reached the parking lot. If either of us had been alone and something happened, like a snake bite or a debilitating fall on the slick, jagged terrain, hours could pass before anyone noticed.
Despite all of this, Savage Gulf is one of the most untamed and idyllic places I’ve hiked through this year, in Tennessee or elsewhere. I’d go back in a heartbeat and highly recommend this area to anyone who wants to explore off the grid. Just remember to bring a friend, keep your eyes open, and don’t be afraid to get close to the edge.
