If you read my most recent post about adventure gone awry on the Grand Canyon’s most difficult trail last September, you won’t be surprised to learn that I chose an easy trail to explore for the first time in October. Although Savage Day Loop in South Cumberland State Park couldn’t be more different from Nankoweap, my experience in the Grand Canyon heavily influenced my decision to hike this specific trail. I emerged from the Grand Canyon feeling utterly drained and defeated, but also inspired by the kindness of the strangers I encountered there. As soon as I returned to Nashville, I started looking for volunteer opportunities in the state parks I frequently visit in Tennessee. I felt so strongly called to pay forward the good will that the Grand Canyon park rangers and hikers from Sedona showed to me. As if by divine intervention, a representative from Friends of South Cumberland, a nonprofit organization that supports South Cumberland State Park, emailed me only a few days after I returned home and asked if I’d be interested in training for their Trail Friends volunteer program. I’m sure I received the email along with a massive list of other people who’ve donated money to this group in the past, but the timing made the message feel personal. I responded instantly and enthusiastically.
views from Rattlesnake Point, an overlook 2 miles into a counterclockwise hike of Savage Day Loop
Trail Friends volunteers support South Cumberland State Park by working shifts at the park’s more popular trailheads and advising park visitors on trails, park regulations, and hiker safety. We report visitor trends and trail conditions to rangers and often participate in other volunteer initiatives to protect the park and educate others about how to enjoy it responsibly. If you watched The Office, think of Trail Friends as something similar to Dwight’s volunteer sheriff’s deputy program, but we support park rangers instead of police officers. The program requires training, a test for certification, and an ongoing commitment of time and energy. However, it’s the most impactful way to give back to my favorite state park in Tennessee. South Cumberland State Park contains more than 90 miles of trails, ranging from very easy and heavily trafficked to brutally strenuous and remote, and I’ve hiked most of them. I’ve experienced this place in every season and know its cascading creeks and cavernous depths intimately. I felt like an awestruck imposter in the Grand Canyon, and although I’m often still surprised by the beauty of the most familiar places in South Cumberland State Park, I feel unequivocally at home here.
Trail Friends has given me the opportunity to share the majesty and perils of this incredible place with others, which brings me to my decision to hike the Savage Day Loop last October. I didn’t choose this trail for its ease and predictability compared to the previous month’s festival of danger below the rim of the Grand Canyon. I picked this trail because it’s the most heavily trafficked trail in South Cumberland State Park that I hadn’t already hiked. I wanted to experience this one firsthand so that I could share my thoughts and recommendations with others while volunteering for Trail Friends. In doing so, I discovered an immensely beautiful hike that was bursting with fall colors in late October. I’d always known about this trail but never prioritized it because I thought it’d be boring, compared to more challenging trails in this park. I humbly and wholeheartedly admit that I was wrong about this thoroughly lovely trail.
tranquil views of Savage Creek’s still waters upstream of Savage Falls
The trailhead at the Savage Gulf Ranger Station provides access to the Savage Day Loop, as well as other longer trails that eventually plunge into the delightfully and entirely rugged gulf. With this in mind, the trailhead is a popular starting point for casual day hikers and multi-night backpackers. There’s a hike-in campground near the ranger station and another about a mile and a half from the trailhead at Savage Falls, each with primitive toilets. The Savage Day Loop covers roughly 5 miles of mostly flat terrain, and the trail is marked and maintained well enough for novice hikers to navigate with ease. Hikers who don’t have the time or energy to hike the full loop frequently opt for a shorter 3-mile out and back hike to Savage Falls, bypassing the extended loop. The pooling creek at the base of Savage Falls was too cold for swimming when I hiked here, but in warmer months, it’d be hard to resist the temptation of jumping into these pristine waters. Although Savage Falls receives a decent amount of visitor traffic, this waterfall isn’t quite as prominent as its South Cumberland State Park neighbors, Greeter and Foster Falls, which are both overrun with swimmers in warmer months. Savage Falls provides a lovely alternative that’s further off the beaten path.
Savage Falls, a beautiful waterfall with a 30 ft drop into a shimmering pool of clear creek water
Due to COVID, parking at Savage Gulf Ranger Station was limited to designated parking spaces only when I hiked here, so I had to circle the lot for about 10 minutes before luck landed me a spot vacated by a chatty retired couple with a Border Collie. Sparse parking means sparse foot traffic on a trail that would have otherwise been busy on this spectacularly sunny fall day with temperatures in the low 50s and bold autumn colors adorning every tree along the trail. If I’d been in a hurry, I could have hiked this mild loop in an hour and a half, but I wasn’t and so I didn’t. I must have spent twice as much time on this trail, because Fall is a brief but beautiful season in Tennessee, and I wanted to savor as much of it as I could before getting back in my car for the hour and forty-five minute drive back to Nashville. I also felt a lingering desire to simply be present on this trail, with no obligation to a schedule. I often try to pack in as much distance as I can on my hikes, for the endurance challenge and the constant desire to do more and see more in my precious daylight hours. On the Savage Day Loop, however, I embraced the change of pace and absorbed my surroundings with an immense gratitude for the simplicity of an easy afternoon in a beautiful place.
I spent the whole hike looking up at the colors on the trees.
one more photo of Fall foliage from this basic white girl
After my husband and I planned a destination wedding in Telluride, Colorado in 2019, we decided to defer our honeymoon to 2020. We both had so much going on in 2019, personally and professionally, aside from planning a wedding. The year felt like an emotional rollercoaster with no time to spare for the honeymoon we wanted. 2020 was supposed to be a year of stability and settling into our happily normal lives as newlyweds. In hindsight, it sounds so naive, right? To be fair, the inconvenience of planning and cancelling two honeymoons in 2020 cannot compare to the struggles of brides who’ve had to postpone or significantly alter wedding plans this year. After aborted plans to travel to New Zealand in May, and then the Hawaiian island of Kauai in August, we made a third and final attempt to have a honeymoon in 2020 and decided to travel to Jackson, Wyoming. Neither of us had been before, and while it wasn’t the trip we thought we’d be taking for our honeymoon, we were grateful for the opportunity to go and excited to explore this place that’s touted as one of the most beautiful destinations in America.
Andy and I on the summit of Table Mountain (11,106 ft) in Grand Teton National Park
Located in a valley immediately south of Grand Teton National Park, Jackson provides immediate access to an endless array of hiking adventures against a sprawling and rugged mountain backdrop. The road that leads into the park from Jackson actually continues north into Yellowstone National Park as well. Admission to each park costs $35 per car (assuming up to four passengers per car) and covers unlimited travel into and out of the park for seven consecutive days. However, an annual National Parks pass costs $80 and grants pass holders admission to more than 100 federally managed recreation areas, including all National Parks. The annual pass does not cover camping permits or shuttle fees, but it’s an incredibly sensible purchase for anyone interested in exploring America’s public lands.
Despite reviewing multiple hiking resources (AllTrails, travel blogs, local guides, etc.), narrowing down our options in the Tetons and Yellowstone was so difficult due to the immense quantity and variety of attractive trails. I’d hike any of the four trails that we explored again, but for each of them, there are about a dozen others that appeared to be just as gorgeous and rewarding. As is the case in most National Parks, popular trails receive very heavy foot traffic, so I’d definitely recommend visiting in the off season or on a week day, and getting an early start regardless of when you visit. If you have the opportunity to speak to a local, ask for their recommendations. We received several recommendations for trails we hadn’t uncovered through our own research from our Airbnb host and from a friend’s sister who lives in the area. Utilize your social media network as well. Most people will gladly share their experiences and provide insightful tips, even if they don’t know you. Asking a stranger for advice is only creepy if you act like a creep.
We hiked three trails in Grand Teton National Park and one in Yellowstone. Although Yellowstone is seven times larger than its neighbor to the south, Grand Teton National Park is a more sensible option for day hikes. Yellowstone is vast and spread out, and a two-hour drive separates the park’s southern boundary from Jackson, WY. Even after entering Yellowstone from the southern road, visitors still have to travel for miles and miles before reaching any trails that could reasonably be hiked within a day, considering route lengths and the roundtrip travel time from Jackson. During our trip, all lodges and most campgrounds in both parks were closed or operating at very limited capacity due to COVID-19. With all of this in mind, we didn’t have many viable hiking options at Yellowstone. Based on our very limited time in both places, we both preferred our hikes in Grand Teton National Park over the one in Yellowstone. However, I feel like we barely scratched the surface of areas to explore in both parks and hope to see much more of both in the future.
BONUS: If you visit the Tetons in the summer and want to try an outdoor activity that isn’t hiking, I highly recommend renting a kayak or canoe from the Coulter Bay Marina on Jackson Lake. We only had a couple of hours to spend on the lake before heading to the airport, but in hindsight, we wish we’d dedicated an entire day to exploring this massive and beautiful lake beneath the mountains.
Taggart Lake and Bradley Lake Loop
This mild six-mile loop begins at the Taggart Lake trailhead and offers stunning views of the Tetons for less effort than most of the park’s trails. Because of this, the trail receives very heavy foot traffic, especially the Taggart Lake section. Most visitors only hike the Taggart Lake loop (about four miles) and omit the extension that includes trail to Bradley Lake. With little else to do and plenty of daylight, we hiked the full six miles, although I admit that the best part of the hike was the section along Taggart Lake. The trail to Bradley Lake doesn’t provide access to the lakeshore, only shrouded glimpses of the lake through the trees along a ridge above the lake. Beyond the loop, there’s an option to hike to Garnet Canyon, and this section of the trail may provides better access to Bradley Lake. We stayed on the loop, knowing we’d hike into Garnet Canyon on another trail a couple of days later.
The trail weaves in and out of a dense forest, and magnificent views of the Tetons dominate the skyline along the open sections. There’s only about 750 feet of elevation gain, and most of that occurs on the Bradley Lake section. At Taggart Lake, we enjoyed absolutely majestic vistas of the Tetons rising above this sprawling lake. The trail runs along the edge of the lake for almost half a mile and offers many spots where hikers can step off the trail to explore the shoreline and experience uninterrupted mountain views, steps away from the congestion of other hikers along the trail.
Grand Teton (center) towering over Taggart Lake, amid hazy conditions due to the wildfires west of the Tetons during our visit
This was our first of our three hikes in Grand Teton National Park, and it turned out to be the easiest as well. We almost didn’t hike this trail at all, but I’m so glad that we did. Initially, we’d planned to hike the Cascade Canyon Trail, accessible via the Jenny Lake area in the park. However, we abandoned these plans after seeing swarms of people along the access trail. Jenny Lake is gorgeous, and Cascade Canyon is supposed to be one of the most beautiful hiking trails in the park, but we felt so discouraged by the masses we encountered here (at 9:00 AM on a Thursday, by the way) that we left the Jenny Lake area and didn’t go back during our trip. If you’re considering hiking here, especially during the peak summer season, 9:00 AM isn’t an early enough start time, regardless of the length of your planned hike. However, this created an opportunity to explore the Taggart Lake and Bradley Lake Loop, and this proved to be a less crowded option with much better views than we expected.
Bradley Lake, with Teewinot Mountain (12,166 ft) visible in the background, as viewed from the trail
Delta Lake via the Amphitheater Trail
When we asked the owner of the Airbnb rental where we stayed on our trip to Jackson Hole for hiking recommendations, she told us, without hesitation, that Delta Lake via the Amphitheater Trail was her favorite hike in the Tetons. With an endorsement like that, we knew we had to check it out for ourselves. This out-and-back hike covers eight miles roundtrip and about 2,300 feet of elevation gain. The Lupine Meadows Trailhead provides access to several popular hiking trails, so unless you arrive early (before 8:00 AM), plan on adding some additional distance to your eight-mile hike because you’ll have to park along the dirt road that leads to the small unpaved parking lot. Of all the trails we hiked, this one was the busiest. We started early enough to avoid heavy foot traffic on the way up to Delta Lake, but there was rarely a moment on the way down when other hikers weren’t within view.
views from the Lupine Meadows Trailhead at Grand Teton National Park
The trail climbs steadily over the first three miles, mercifully distributing the elevation gain relatively evenly over a series of switchbacks. The trail is wide and easy to follow, and the views become more and more expansive along the ascent. After about 3.2 miles of moderate hiking, a cairn marks the spot where hikers headed to Delta Lake exit the maintained trail and begin a primitive route up through Glacier Gulch and over a series of boulder fields. Although this final mile up to Delta Lake isn’t maintained by the park, there’s a clear route and a few cairns that make it easier to navigate through the boulders. This route is difficult and very steep, ascending nearly 900 feet in less than a mile. There’s very little shade, so if you hike this trail in August like we did, I highly recommend sunscreen.
Delta Lake isn’t visible until you climb the final stretch of trail and emerge through a few trees and right onto the lake’s rocky shoreline. This brilliant turquoise lake lies immediately below Grand Teton, and it’s one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I’ve seen on any hike. Photos don’t accurately capture the magnitude of the scenery around this alpine lake. Nestled in a drainage basin at 9,000 feet, Delta Lake’s still transparent waters reflect images of the surrounding massive granite monoliths. The rocky shoreline offers plenty of space for hikers to spread out and enjoy the scenery around them. A few brave souls swam in the lake, but even in the summer heat, that water felt way too cold for comfort for this hiker from the Deep South. Regardless, we felt perfectly content to sit on a rock at the lake’s edge and enjoy a leisurely lunch before returning to the trailhead.
Grand Teton’s famous shark fin profile rises above the turquoise waters of Delta Lake
Table Mountain
During the weeks leading up to our trip to Jackson Hole, we seriously considered a summit hike to the top of Middle Teton, the least technical of the thee mountains that the range is named for. Although there’s no technical climbing involved, Middle Teton is a massive undertaking, with 13 miles of hiking and more than 6,000 feet of elevation gain, plus class 3 and 4 scrambling near the summit. After arriving in Jackson and seeing this beast in person, we reluctantly decided pick another mountain. I rarely let intimidation prevent me from any hike, and I’m sure we’d have been fine and successful if we’d tried to climb Middle Teton. However, we just didn’t feel compelled to climb a mountain like this one on our honeymoon. Instead, we followed the recommendation of a local and opted for Table Mountain, which is no small feat at 11,106 feet, but a milder alternative to Middle Teton.
Teton peaks (from left) as viewed form the summit of Table Mountain: Mount Owen (12,928 ft), Grand Teton (13,776 ft), Middle Teton (12,806 ft), South Teton (12,514 ft)
The hike to the summit of Table Mountain begins outside of Grand Teton National Park, and the peak lies on the park’s western boundary. Perhaps because the trail isn’t in the national park, or perhaps due to its difficulty, this trail doesn’t receive nearly as much foot traffic as the others we hiked. We ascended via the four-mile Face Trail and descended on the seven-mile Huckleberry Trail. The two trailheads are only a five-minute walk away from each other, and most people who climb this mountain do so by following the same loop that we took. With 4,000 feet of elevation gain over four miles, the Face Trail definitely presents a challenge. Factor in the altitude and the smoky conditions we hiked in, as haze from the wildfires many miles west of us permeated the air in the Tetons, and this trail felt entirely brutal. It felt only slightly less difficult than the fourteener hikes I’ve done in Colorado. For all of its adversity, the scenery is undeniably gorgeous. The hazy air obscured views of distant mountains, but we could see those that were within a few miles of us, and after we passed the tree line, less than a mile from the summit, we were surrounded on all sides by incredible mountain vistas.
the final push, about 300 vertical feet below the summit of Table Mountain
The final push to the summit includes a short class 1 or 2 scramble with some exposure, but the route is straightforward and obvious. As the name suggests, the summit of Table Mountain is flat and spacious, and it provides a truly epic panoramic view of the three Teton peaks: Grand, Middle, and South. The views were insanely gorgeous, but I can’t even imagine how much better they’d be on a clear day. We could have stayed up there all day and never tired of the views, but the wind was howling and thoughts of cheeseburgers and beer started to creep in, so we began the seven-mile return trek along the Huckleberry Trail. We didn’t expect the views to be even prettier along this trail than they were on the way up via the Face Trail, but we were shocked by the endless sea of colorful wildflowers surrounded by mountain vistas that we encountered throughout the descent. Unlike the Face Trail, the Huckleberry Trail offered views of Table Mountain from afar, and it felt really satisfying to look back at the peak we’d just climbed.
The views on the descent from the summit of Table Mountain, along the Huckleberry Trail, were magnificent. The peak shaped like a shark’s fin in this photo is Grand Teton, and the flat summit to the left of it in the foreground is Table Mountain. The terrain on Table Mountain looks deceptively easy from this vantage point.
About three miles from our end point, the vegetation thickened around the trail, and we started hiking through frequent patches of tall grass and shrubbery, often several feet high on either side of the trail. Many of the bushes were covered in bright berries, and we clearly weren’t the only ones in the area who noticed them. There was fresh and ample evidence of recent bear activity along this part of the trail, lying in little piles that we had to step over as we hiked. We saw dozens of bear sized interruptions in the shrubbery, the beginnings of paths clearly formed when these locals wandered off the trail in search of more fruit-filled bushes or water from the nearby creek. We hiked through these conditions for two and a half miles, feeling somewhat anxious considering how limited our visibility was because of the dense vegetation around us. The closer we became to the trailhead, the more surprised I felt that we hadn’t seen a bear. I’d accepted the fact that they were playing mind games with us, dropping bombs in our path and then retreating into the brush to mock us as we carefully moved past them without knowing they were watching.
And then, as if it’d been waiting on us the whole time, a Black Bear wandered out onto the trail about thirty or so feet in front of us, when we were only half a mile from the end of our eleven-mile hike. I spoke, to alert my husband who was hiking behind me, and the bear looked up and slowly started moving toward us. The bear wasn’t displaying any signs of aggression, but likely just investigating the noise it’d heard when we approached along the trail. Bears are curious creatures with poor vision, so it’s best to speak loudly when a bear notices you, so that it acknowledges you and differentiates your human voice from the natural sounds its prey may make. The bear was too close for me to feel comfortable whipping out my phone for a photo, or do anything besides recall the tenets bear safety protocol. We did what we were supposed to do, without using our bear spray, and the bear retreated into the woods on its own after only a minute or two. We safely made it back to our car, relieved and grateful for an exciting finale to one of the most incredible hikes I’ve ever taken.
abundant wildflower views along the Huckleberry Trail, and Table Mountain (center)
Fairy Falls and Grand Prismatic Hot Spring Overlook
As I’ve mentioned earlier, Yellowstone National Park isn’t very close to Jackson Hole. However, the drive up through the Tetons and into the park isn’t exactly boring. The views are immaculate, so the time flies by quickly. Be prepared for traffic jams caused by wild moose or bears on the side of the road, which will add time to your commute even if the animals have disappeared by the time that you emerge from the congestion. There’s no way to know for sure, but we think we experienced this kind of traffic about five times on our six-hour roundtrip journey to and from the Fairy Falls trailhead, even though we only saw one moose along the side of the road.
Yours won’t be the only car in the parking lot at the Fairy Falls trailhead, as this trailhead also provides access to the Grand Prismatic Spring overlook, one of the most popular spots in the park. The main road offers immediate access to this massive hot spring’s steamy edges, but even from afar, we could see throngs of visitors along the boundaries of this intensely colorful hot spring. Our overlook wasn’t lonely but definitely wasn’t as crowded as the boardwalk that leads to hot spring. I haven’t been to the edge of Grand Prismatic Spring, but I’m telling you now, the views from above are better than the ones you’d find along the boardwalk. On our way back to the car, a woman in the parking lot asked me about the overlook, and after I showed her a photo I’d taken, she admitted that she should have skipped the boardwalk trail to Grand Prismatic Spring and only hiked the overlook trail.
Grand Prismatic Hot Spring, as viewed from the overlook on the trail to Fairy Falls
Beyond the overlook, the trail continues along a dirt road before veering off into an evergreen forest along the approach to Fairy Falls. The hike to and from Fairy Falls includes five total miles and less than three hundred feet of elevation gain, making this the easiest of all our hikes on this vacation. We passed through places where the forest had burned and started to regrow, revealing expansive views of the wide open landscape around us. and the thousands of yellow wildflowers that covered the forest floor. A high granite cliff rose above us in the distance on the left, and the trail meandered increasingly closer to this cliff wall as we hiked towards Fairy Falls.
Fairy Falls, an absolutely gorgeous 200 ft waterfall (I couldn’t capture the whole thing on my iPhone) in Yellowstone National Park
The sound of falling water grew louder and the trees became more sparse as we approached a clearing, nestled below the granite cliff. As we entered the clearing, Fairy Falls suddenly presented itself, cascading down from the top of the cliff, 200 feet above us. The water formed a gorgeous pool at the bottom of the falls and then trickled over rocks and fallen trees as it made its way down into the meadow beyond the clearing. I’ve seen dozens of waterfalls in Tennessee. You can hardly throw a rock in this state without hitting water, but they never cease to amaze me. The constant motion of the water and the ever changing flow make it impossible to really see the same waterfall twice. As gorgeous as Fairy Falls looked in the middle of summer, I’m sure it’s even more impressive in spring when the flow is heavier or in winter when it’s covered in ice and snow. Regardless, the trail to Fairy Falls is absolutely worth the minimal effort that this hike requires and an amazing destination in Yellowstone National Park that’s much more secluded than the attractions along the park’s main loop.
Here’s a rare photo of a wild animal that didn’t require any zoom. We encountered this local immediately beside the trail, about a mile into our hike to Delta Lake via the Lupine Meadows trailhead.
In January of 2020, when I began the third iteration of my New Year’s Resolution to explore a new hiking trail every month, I never thought I’d have to factor a global pandemic into my plans. The truth is that we’ve all experienced interruptions to our lives and routines due to COVID-19, and we’re all struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy despite these (cue the trendiest phrase of 2020) unprecedented times. Over the past few months, it’s been difficult to prioritize personal goals and comforts while our global community battles a health crisis that requires all hands on deck. Time passes like a fly through molasses these days, which has given me ample opportunity to think about balance. I’ve questioned my role in protecting the health and well-being of others and felt the overwhelming absence of previously mundane activities like going to the gym or making small talk in the elevator with other people who work in my office building. We all miss the routines we took for granted when the year began, and as a result, we’re desperate to find ways to enjoy the things we loved, only in a new format that’s more appropriate for the world we’re living in right now.
views of the beautiful Cloudland Canyon from the West Rim Loop trailhead
Nature is my greatest source of comfort and vitality. Hiking a new trail every month means more to me than maintaining a sense of normalcy, and despite the very abnormal current circumstances, I wanted to find a way to keep my routine alive, legally and with minimal risk to myself or others. Towards the end of March, Tennessee and most other states closed their parks indefinitely, and distant travel wasn’t a realistic or responsible alternative. Through extensive research, I learned that Georgia’s state parks remained open in April, at limited capacity and with an increase in park ranger presence to manage social distancing on popular trails. I carefully considered the potential risks of hiking during a pandemic. Ultimately, I concluded that by holding myself accountable and trusting the park rangers, I wouldn’t have to sacrifice my favorite routine just yet.
enjoying the views from above the rim, dreaming of the views below the trees
This led me to Cloudland Canyon State Park, a magnificent place a few miles south of the border between Tennessee and Georgia, close to Chattanooga and about two and a half hours southeast of Nashville. Under normal circumstances, I rule out day hikes (when departing from and returning to Nashville in the same day) that require more time in the car than time on the trail. However, I think we can all agree that 2020 has wholeheartedly failed to provide us with normal circumstances. Also, I had plenty of time to kill and a good friend that I hadn’t seen in a while who volunteered to chase waterfalls and overlooks with me at a park that’s been on my bucket list for a while.
Cameron and I left Nashville early, hoping to beat the crowds to the popular waterfall trail segment off the West Rim Loop Trail at Cloudland Canyon State Park. Prior to visiting, I’d read that rangers were restricting access to the trails to the bottom of Cherokee and Hemlock Falls to ten parties at a time. I called the ranger station a few days before our hike to ask for advice on how early we should arrive and what to expect from a COVID management standpoint (Should we wear masks? Are the bathrooms open?) Admittedly, I call the local ranger station before most of my remote hikes, regardless of whether I’ve been there or not, to check on trail conditions. I know it’s overly cautious and nerdy, but I also hike by myself and/or on unfamiliar and lightly trafficked trails often. Calling the ranger station helps me plan my hikes and manage my expectations. Also, my mom feels more comfortable with my adventures when I can say in advance, “It’s fine, the park ranger said so”.
Cherokee Falls, stunning and well worth the journey into the canyon
We followed the advice of a park ranger named Austin and arrived early, around 9:00 AM. We parked in the shade, threw some hand sanitizer into our backpacks, and headed down the waterfall trail segment before hitting the West Rim Loop. Honestly, the waterfall segment was the most difficult part of our entire seven-mile journey, consisting of an endless sea of switchbacks and stairs that traversed the steep canyon walls surrounding Cherokee and Hemlock falls. We arrived at Cherokee Falls first, a beautiful waterfall that I’d imagine makes a great swimming hole during warmer and more carefree months. As we’d expected, a vigilant park ranger monitored the area, ensuring that each hiking party remained a safe distance from the next. Luckily, the base of Cherokee Falls offers plentiful views from many angles, which allows visitors to easily separate themselves without compromising their waterfall viewing experience.
Hemlock Falls lies less the a quarter of a mile downstream from Cherokee Falls, but the trail between the two is not a direct route. If you’ve hiked down to Cherokee Falls, you should also take the spur to Hemlock Falls. It adds about a mile roundtrip to the journey, but the scenery along the way is beautiful, and the ups and downs are great for the glutes. Hemlock Falls isn’t as visually appealing as its upstream neighbor, and there’s no direct access to the bottom. Regardless, I’d advise making the most of your time in the canyon by visiting both waterfalls. The inner canyon views are thoroughly gorgeous, and you’ll want to remember those images while you’re climbing out, to remind you that the effort was worth the journey.
the most magical place to enjoy the creek views between Cherokee and Hemlock falls
Aside from the waterfall segment, the West Rim Loop is probably the most popular trail in the park, and after hiking there during absolutely perfect weather conditions, I can understand why. The five-mile loop (measured from the access trailhead, not the beginning of the actual loop) traverses moderate terrain and majestic views overlooking the canyon below. This trail at Cloudland Canyon reminds me of my beloved trails in South Cumberland State Parkin Tennessee, because the enchanting views from above obscure layers of equally impressive scenery below, scenery that can only be appreciated by those who put in the effort to pursue it.
West Rim Loop offers easy access to multiple rocky outcroppings overlooking the canyon. Cameron and I had no trouble finding a scenic spot to break for lunch that provided plenty of social distance from the other hikers on the trail. We explored the trail at a leisurely pace, because the views were incredible and we didn’t have any other obligations. We enjoyed the time we had together, catching up on life and embracing the freedom of a day without other plans. When we returned to the trailhead, after hiking the five-mile loop and the two-mile detour to explore the waterfalls, I felt like we’d only been gone for a few minutes instead of a couple of hours. I love that feeling, the one where time stands still because the circumstances of the present outweigh the obligations to be elsewhere.
Views like this one from the West Rim Loop are plentiful along this amazing trail in northern Georgia.
If you’d have asked me two years ago, I’d have said that this journey wasn’t sustainable, and that I’d eventually run out of new trails reasonably close to home. Two years later, I still feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. I travel as often as I can, and since I began this journey, almost half of my new hikes have occurred on trails outside of Tennessee. As much as I’ve loved the trails of amazing destinations like Maine, Colorado, Utah, and California… there’s no place like home. I appreciate the breathtaking beauty of expansive mountain views, but there’s something so intimate and comfortable about the hidden waterfalls and majestic limestone bluffs of the Cumberland Plateau. If you’re looking for views that extend far and wide, Tennessee may not be for you, but if you’re looking for pristine beauty that’s buried and unpretentious, come on in. The water’s fine. And so are the caves.
The icicles surrounding Foster Falls may be too small to notice in this photo, but the views of this area in January were a rare and magnificent treat when I hiked here.
Tennessee offers no shortage of incredible waterfall hikes, and nothing influences the kind of experience you’ll have on one of these trails more than timing. I’d love to tell y’all that any time is a good time for a waterfall hike in Tennessee, but I’ve learned from experience that this isn’t necessarily true. The magic of seasonality can make one hike feel like four unique experiences, and I wholeheartedly appreciate that. Hiking to Foster Falls and Denny Cove in January reminded me so much of how my journey began two years ago, with my winter hike to Virgin Falls. If you’ve got the layers for it, I highly recommend a Tennessee waterfall hike in January. We don’t get much snow in winter in this part of the country, but temperatures fall (and stay) below freezing often enough to create magnificent icicle formations on our waterfalls. With all of this in mind, a sunny January day with sub-freezing temperatures may not be an ideal day for hiking for most people, but fortune favors the bold… or the cold, in this case.
As an added bonus, Tennessee’s popular trails don’t receive much foot traffic in January. Most of the visitors to South Cumberland State Park drive in from other parts of Tennessee, and winters in the volunteer state just aren’t consistent enough for our Southern blood to properly acclimatize. It’s a mystery to me though, because winter can still be beautiful without the presence of snow-capped peaks and frozen lakes. Snow flurries against a waterfall backdrop and high cliffs draped with thousands of sparkling icicles decorate the Cumberland Plateau in winter, and the trails (usually) remain clear of ice and other winter obstacles. It’s rare to experience conditions that offer the best of both worlds, but when the opportunity presents itself, why not take advantage of it?
Thousands of gorgeous icicles drip from the jagged cliffs along the trail to Denny Cove Waterfall in South Cumberland State Park.
It was 20 degrees with a forecast of clouds and sporadic snow snow flurries when I started my morning at the Foster Falls trailhead, named for the landmark feature at the eastern terminus of Fiery Gizzard. I hiked a western portion of Fiery Gizzard, one of Tennessee’s most alluring and popular trails, in October of 2018, and a through hiker I met on the trail told me about the idyllic brilliance of Foster Falls. I’ve wanted to visit ever since, and I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to witness this beautiful place for the first time without anyone else around. I’ve heard that visitors flock to this waterfall in the summer months, because of the gorgeous and spacious swimming hole at the bottom of the falls. The hike to Foster Falls is relatively short and easy as well. I hiked a loop trail that runs two total miles, starting with a steep descent from the top of the falls to the swimming hole and spacious creekside areas at the bottom. From the base of the falls, the trail follows a moderate incline along the base of one of Tennessee’s most popular rock climbing walls, which was dripping with icicles and thus understandably vacant in January.
After ascending to the rim of the canyon that Foster Falls flows into, the trail continues along the edge and provides an outstanding glimpse of the waterfall from above before returning to the trailhead. Overall, the this loop offers many gorgeous views for a relatively easy hike. There’s also the option to continue hiking along the rim of the canyon on the Fiery Gizzard Trail, which extends for 12 miles in one direction before meeting its western terminus at the Grundy trailhead.
Foster Falls as viewed from an overlook on the Fiery Gizzard Trail
I’d be lying if I said it’s worth the effort to drive two hours one way for a two mile hike in January, although I thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful scenery at Foster Falls. South Cumberland State Park’s newest addition, however, is accessible from a trailhead only ten minutes down the road from Foster Falls. Denny Cove offers about four total miles of trails. It doesn’t sound like much, but this trail packs in a lot of value over a relatively short and moderate distance. A vast and beautiful cliff runs parallel to the trail on the north side, and this area is accessible to rock climbers during warmer months. In winter, however, the tree cover between the trail and the cliffs is sparse enough to provide extensive views of this gorgeous landscape. Overall, the terrain is mild but not entirely easy, and the trail ends at a glorious waterfall that isn’t visible until you’re right beside it. As the trail ascends, it inches closer to the creek that runs through the cove. As the trail approaches the waterfall, the incline increases before leading to a small open space with unobstructed views of Denny Cove Falls.
views of Denny Cove Falls on the steep section of trail that runs upward toward the base of the falls
On the return trip from Denny Cove Waterfall, I hiked the spur trail to and from a secluded overlook off the main trail. This route extends the 3-mile roundtrip hike to the falls by a mile, but the views are worth the short detour. It’s worth noting that, for the first time since I started this journey two years ago, I was entirely and blissfully alone on this previously unexplored trail. I saw a few people on the Foster Falls loop, but I didn’t see anyone on my hike through Denny Cove. This surprised me, even though the trail is relatively new and the weather was brutally cold (for Tennessee, anyways). Most people avoid hiking on days like this, but I eagerly anticipate them and hope they land on weekends when I can actually get outside to enjoy the solitude of a sub-freezing hike.
This overlook along the trail to Denny Cove Falls offers stunning views of the valley below.
It takes more than just cold weather to make a hike like this possible. Cliffs and waterfalls need rain and the resulting runoff to sprout icicles, and then the sun needs to shine for a day or two to reduce ice and slushy mud enough to make the trails navigable. The sunny days need to be bright enough to warm the ground, but the temperatures need to be low enough to keep the ice on the cliff walls from melting. Rock surfaces warm more slowly than dirt, so it takes nothing short of an act of God to create the perfect conditions for a waterfall hike adorned with icicles. It doesn’t happen often around here, but when it does, the rare opportunity to see a sight like this in Tennessee is certainly worth the extra layers.
Here’s a low quality image (iPhones don’t work well during prolonged exposure to 20 degree temperatures) of a high quality moment alone at the base of Denny Cove Waterfall.
Just when I thought I’d already seen the very best of the many magnificent waterfalls along the Cumberland Plateau, I hiked the Greeter Falls loop. Slowly but surely, I’m making progress toward my goal of hiking every inch of trail in South Cumberland State Park. I’ve hiked about 30 unique miles here so far, but I’ve got at least 60 more to go. This is my local hiking passion project. Not many people outside of Tennessee and its neighboring states have heard of South Cumberland State Park. It’s often unfairly overshadowed by the state’s other incredible hiking destinations, like Big South Fork and Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Both of those places are exquisite in their own ways, but there’s a much more secluded and intimate gem located less than two hours outside of Nashville. South Cumberland State Park is home to several of the state’s best hikes that you’ve never heard of (also Fiery Gizzard, which deserves its status as a household name, but it’s much more heavily trafficked than several equally gorgeous trails in the area). In addition to Fiery Gizzard, I’d hiked Big Creek Gulf and Buggytop Cave before I hiked Greeter Falls in December 2019, my last new hike of the decade.
Greeter Falls (lower) on Christmas Eve, with a rainbow reflection to the right of the falls
Completing my 2019 New Year’s Resolution with a waterfall hike at South Cumberland State Park felt like an appropriate move, so on Christmas Eve, I woke up with Christmas morning energy levels and hit the trail. I hiked a mild two-mile loop that included a spur trail to Blue Hole, a beautiful swimming hole along Firescald Creek. I definitely wasn’t jumping into any creeks in late December, but the area was pleasant and worth the short detour. The water was moving pretty quickly, likely due to recent heavy rains. Even if it’d been a hot summer day, I’d have been skeptical about swimming at Blue Hole based on the current I observed, and more importantly, its precarious proximity to the top of Greeter Falls. Water levels are usually lower in the summer months, however, and this sparkling creek certainly would have seemed more inviting under different circumstances. I was lucky enough to be alone at Blue Hole, but I’m sure the scene is much less pristine and quiet on a hot Saturday in August.
Back on the main trail to Greeter Falls, my solitude continued. Throughout my hike, I only encountered one other group, a father and two relatively young children. The trail to Greeter Falls, including the spur to Blue Hole, wouldn’t present much of a challenge for young or inexperienced hikers. It’s one of those hikes where minimal effort offers maximum reward. If you’re looking for a longer hike or more of a challenge, the trail continues beyond Greeter Falls, and after a mile or so, it connects with the Big Creek Gulf and Big Creek Rim trails at the Alum Gap campground. I’ve hiked the rugged eight-mile loop that these two trails form, but from the access point at Stone Door, on the opposite end of the loop from Alum Gap (If you’re interested, you can read about that hike here).
a throwback photo from my hike at Big Creek Gulf in August, 2018
I wasn’t looking for a long and solitary journey into the wild on Christmas Eve, and I couldn’t have been happier with the gorgeous views packed into this short hike. Greeter Falls is actually a set of two concurrent waterfalls, and while both are gorgeous, the lower of the two falls certainly outshines its upper counterpart. A spur off the main trail provides access to both, and there’s a sign that provides clear and foolproof directions. The trail to the upper falls is fairly easy, descending mildly over a rocky path before the trees open up and offer an expansive view of a broad, angular waterfall behind an oddly placed, massive boulder. I can’t imagine how the boulder got there. It’s much too large to have been placed by anything but nature, but it appears so out of context among its surroundings and obscures a huge section of the waterfall. It looks completely unnatural, but there’s no other explanation for its placement. In a way, sights like this one make me appreciate the randomness of nature. Sure, the views would be more photo friendly without this massive boulder in front of the falls, but I’d have plenty of unobstructed views of the lower section of Greeter Falls in my immediate future.
the upper section of Greeter Falls, mostly obscured by a boulder as big as an RV
I started moving back from the upper falls towards the split in the trail that leads down to the lower falls. Almost immediately after the split, the trail steadily descends along the bottom of a high rock wall over loose rubble before abruptly ending at an iron staircase. The staircase spirals tightly down the side of a nearly vertical rock wall and then connects with two more iron stair cases that lead down to the edge of the brilliant blue waters below Greeter Falls. The lower section is much taller than its upper counterpart and flows with much more force, creating an impressively beautiful scene when viewed from below. It appears as if the mighty waters carved out part of the cliffs over time, creating a bowl beneath, as indicated by the pattern of horizontal impressions running along the curved cliff walls surrounding the falls. The water was high and cold when I visited, so I couldn’t get closer to the falls than the outcropping of rocks at the bottom of the staircase. I’d imagine that these waters are safe for swimming on warmer days and would provide a sublime reprieve from the intense heat of Tennessee summers.
After ascending the iron staircase and returning to the main trail, I ventured onward to Boardtree Falls, a small but lovely waterfall accessible via a short, but very steep, spur. I mean no disrespect, but Boardtree Falls doesn’t compare to Greeter Falls. However, it’s an easy and worthwhile detour, and I’m all for maximizing my time on any trail by taking every spur available, as long as time and conditions allow for it. I considered hiking the extra 2 miles roundtrip to Alum Gap, to take in some views overlooking the expansive gulf. I ultimately decided against it and returned to the trailhead, choosing the road home to Christmas Eve with my husband and the dog instead. All things considered, I can’t imagine a better finish to two years of hiking a new trail every month, and I’m so excited to share my tales from the trails in 2020. Things are off to an amazing start, and I know they’ll only get better from here.
Boardtree Falls, a hidden waterfall just beyond Greeter Falls, provided an unexpected bonus on my Christmas Eve hike.
all smiles as I completed my 2019 New Year’s Resolution to hike a new trail every month, and Greeter Falls felt like a cherry on top of a spectacular year in the wild
Although I knew long before the end of 2018 that I wanted to keep my resolution to explore more going into 2019, one hesitation lingered in the back of my mind: Will I run out of new trails that I can access and hike as a day trip from Nashville? I travel frequently, both for work and for fun, so about half of my new hikes have occurred away from Tennessee. Aside from the obvious joys of discovering new places far away from home, regular travel makes this resolution more practical. I hate to say it like that, because Tennessee is home to many outstanding trails, and I’ve revisited most of the new ones I’ve discovered over the past year simply because I loved them and wanted to go back, regardless of my New Year’s resolution. However, time and geography absolutely impose limitations on how long I can reasonably continue this resolution, considering my other obligations (like paid employment and a dog, for example).
Machine Falls, the main attraction at Short Springs Natural Area
Finding new trails within relative proximity to Nashville hasn’t been much of a challenge yet, and I can say with relative confidence that if anything stops me from completing this resolution in 2019, it’s not going to be a lack of convenient trails. Sure, I’ll continue to have opportunities to hike while traveling, but even if those don’t work out (I try not to think about the remote possibility that I encounter a torrential downpour on every day of every vacation I take for the rest of the year… Yikes!), I still feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface on trails close to home. And that’s an amazing feeling.
At the beginning of February, I decided I’d take advantage of the first weekend day without rain in the forecast as my opportunity to explore a new trail. I had to wait three weeks into the month for this, and despite record-breaking rainfall and flooding across middle Tennessee that closed many of our state parks and trails, I discovered Short Springs Natural Area and Machine Falls Loop Trail. Located about seventy miles southeast of Nashville, the interconnected trails at Short Springs traverse sections of easy to moderate terrain. A couple of signature waterfalls are easily accessible from the main trailhead, but multiple spur trails off the main loop provide options to extend the journey for those who want to see more.
Bobo Creek, as viewed from a bridge a few dozen feet upstream from Busby Falls
I learned about this trail through AllTrails, and what the site define as Machine Falls Loop actually includes Bobo Creek Trail as well. Bobo Creek Trail leads past Busby Falls and forms a horseshoe shape that connects with Machine Falls Loop on both ends. Roundtrip, this is about a 2.3 mile hike. Off of Bobo Creek Trail, just past Busby Falls, there’s another loop trail called Laurel Bluff that extends the hike by about a mile and a half. I took this detour, and although most of the trail winds through a dense forest, the section that runs close to the edge of the bluff exposes idyllic views of the creek and several small waterfalls from above. While Machine Falls is certainly the main attraction and can be accessed by a quick 1.6 mile roundtrip trek, Bobo Creek and Laurel Bluff trails are certainly worth exploring too.
views of Bobo Creek from above on Laurel Bluff Trail
I hiked these trails on a Monday, President’s Day (I’m not sure how this qualifies as a holiday at the marketing technology company where I work, but some questions are better left not asked. I’ll take a work holiday however I can get one.). I ran into very few other hikers, and only on Machine Falls Loop. I ended up hiking most of this trail with a mother/daughter pair of hikers who live in the area. The daughter had visited all of the trails at Short Springs before and provided some insightful tips that helped confirm my decision to hike Bobo Creek and Laurel Bluff after Machine Falls Loop, instead of hiking a nearby trail at Old Stone Fort State Park. I’ll save that one for another month.
Although relatively short, Machine Falls Loop contains a couple of moderately challenging sections. I hiked this loop clockwise, because I intended to hike to Busby Falls via Bobo Creek Trail on the way to Machine Falls, saving the bigger waterfall for the last part of my journey. The trails at Short Springs are well marked, but because the trail map in AllTrails is inaccurate, I ended up hiking straight to Machine Falls, bypassing Bobo Creek Trail. Because of this, I hiked a short section at the beginning of Machine Falls Loop twice in order to circle back around to Bobo Creek Trail. In hindsight, this also allowed me to knock out the toughest pieces of my hike earlier on, as Bobo Creek and Laurel Bluff are both relatively mild trails.
beautiful view of the creek from Machine Falls Loop
About a quarter of a mile from Machine Falls, the trail sharply descends down a steep bluff, with stairs and even handrails in some places in order to provide extra support. The sun was out in full force on the day of my hike, but I proceeded with caution through this section because the trail was still slick and muddy from previous days of rain. After reaching the bottom of the gulf, the trail leads across a wooden bridge over Bobo Creek, downstream of Machine Falls. At this point, Machine Falls isn’t visible around a bend in the creek, and reaching the falls requires a short journey over slippery rocks along the edge of the creek. There’s not a trail, but the path forward is pretty apparent, and a close-up view of this magnificent waterfall is totally worth the extra effort.
As is always the case with loop trails, what goes down must come back up, and vice versa. When hiking the loop clockwise, the journey out of the gulf isn’t as steep as the way down, but there’s still several hundred feet of elevation gain over about a third of a mile. This section of trail runs along the edge of a bluff, overlooking a wider section of Bobo Creek that flows into the Machine Falls Branch of Normandy Lake. After curving away from the edge of the bluff, the trail loops back around the other side of Machine Falls, past an overlook that offers a beautiful view of the waterfall from above.
Machine Falls, as viewed from above
Although my hike at Short Springs wasn’t as long or as challenging as most of the new hikes I’ve taken since I started this journey, I never set out on a mission to complete the most strenuous new trail I could find every month. Difficult hikes generally lead to more rewarding scenery, because significant elevation change often means big views from high points overlooking expansive spaces. Longer hikes allow deeper access into wild and pristine spaces, which often results in lower foot traffic and the opportunity to enjoy some peaceful time alone on the trail. However, the trails I hiked at Short Springs are a perfect example of why it’s unfair to overlook easy hikes. There are so many things worth seeing in the wild that really don’t require much effort.
all smiles for this close up view of the Machine Falls
Before jumping into my hiking adventure in the Lone Star State last month, I want to take a minute to reflect on my journey through the first half of 2018. In six months, I explored twelve trails I’d never hiked before, across three states. These include an easy one-mile hike along a river bluff close to home in Tennessee (Narrows of the Harpeth), a strenuous seven-mile hike across uneven terrain and two mountain summits in Maine (Penobscot Mountain and Sargent Mountain), and so much more. I’ve experienced trails that require more climbing than hiking, trails through caves and waterfalls, and trails that challenged my physical and mental limits. Through all of this, I’ve somehow managed to incur only a few minor injuries, an insignificant price to pay for adventures that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
Big Laurel Falls, draped in icicles, Virgin Falls State Natural Area, Tennessee (January 2018)
on top of Battleship Rock, Natural Bridge State Park, Kentucky (March 2018)
When I started this journey, I never imagined I’d feel more excited half way through the year than I did at the beginning. Each new adventure in 2018 has only intensified my passion for exploring the great outdoors on foot (and sometimes on hands and feet), and July’s hikes near Austin, Texas were certainly no exception.
Austin is a city with many distinct reputations: live music, the Texas Longhorns, amazing tacos, and a steadfast affection for weirdness. Located on the outskirts of the Texas Hill Country, Austin provides outdoor adventure seekers with easy access to a wide array of activities on land, water, and even through the air (Learn more about your outdoor options in Austin here).
McKinney Falls
Rich in history and beauty (and sweltering heat in July), McKinney Falls State Park is home to several hiking trails, two swimming holes, and the remnants of a few buildings constructed in the nineteenth century by the original owner of the land. I discovered this place when planning a trip to Texas to visit friends, knowing that I would spend a couple of days in Austin in between my time in Dallas and Houston. My friend, Morgan (we hiked together at the Grand Canyon last summer), accompanied me on this adventure. Before embarking on the Homestead Trail, we decided to check out the park’s most famous attraction: the swimming hole located at the bottom of the lower of the two waterfalls that comprise McKinney Falls.
the lower falls, with only a trickle of water flowing over the rock’s edge due to lack of recent rainfall in the area
At times, shallow water flows heavily over the entire length of the rock face pictured above, presenting a challenge for those who attempt to cross the top of the falls and access the trailhead. Needless to say, we barely even got our feet wet on the crossing. The small pools on top of the falls contained hot, dirty water, as this part of the creek bed had nearly evaporated after weeks of dry heat. Many of the pools contained exposed debris left behind by the heavy crowds that visit the area during the summer. Naturally, the pollution made me feel disappointed in those who had traveled through the area before me and somewhat guilty for bringing my own human footprint to a place that was clearly better off before it was discovered by the masses.
I actively seek opportunities to explore remote natural spaces, so it feels somewhat hypocritical to advocate for keeping the wilderness wild and untouched. However, I firmly believe in the “leave nothing behind except for a footprint” mentality, so that these sacred places can be preserved to inspire future generations. More importantly, there’s an urgent need to protect the fragile ecosystems that existed long before we discovered them, as these environments should absolutely outlive us all.
baking under the Texas sun on top of Onion Creek’s lower McKinney Falls
Beyond the swimming hole, after we started down the Homestead Trail, we didn’t see many other hikers. The three-mile loop trail is mostly flat and makes for an easy trek with pleasant scenery. The narrow, dusty path winds through a dense forest, which provided us with frequent shade from the midday sun. The scattered pieces of the trail that weren’t shaded led us across flat rock surfaces and alongside dozens of large clusters of cactus plants. Views also included two sites containing ruins of a large home and a mill constructed more than 150 years ago by Thomas McKinney, after whom the park is named.
wild cactus plants, in bloom beside the trail
the remains of the first home constructed on this land, giving the Homestead Trail its name
Overall, this trail proved to be a worthwhile destination among Austin’s many outdoor options. Despite the significant human footprint left on the swimming hole that we passed en route to the trailhead, the trail itself traversed an area that’s clearly received more respectful treatment (perhaps due to less visitor traffic). The building remains, like their surrounding natural habitat, have been preserved and protected for their place in local history as well. The balance between natural and human history, as viewed from the Homestead Trail, appears to be a harmonious one, and that alone provides a much more meaningful experience than the park’s namesake falls.
River Place Nature Trail
It’d be difficult for me to provide a meaningful review on any of the trails I’ve hiked this year using only a single phrase or sentence, and for most of them, a paragraph wouldn’t be enough to adequately summarize the experience. However, when I think about the River Place Nature Trail in Austin, two simple words sum this one up pretty thoroughly: roller coaster.
Embedded in an upscale suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of Austin, there’s nothing remote about this one, which gave me the naive impression that it couldn’t be very difficult. I’d soon learn my mistake in underestimating this strenuous six-mile out and back trail. Beyond the wooden pier that runs alongside a manmade pond, picturesque with its fountain in the middle and dozens of turtles swimming about, lies the trailhead. From this point on, flat sections of trail are incredibly sparse, and none of these level stretches extend further than a hundred feet or so. The path constantly climbs and descends through the rugged canyon landscape, with at least a dozen trail sections involving quick elevation changes of a hundred feet or more, hence my “roller coaster” description.
It’s hard to capture depth from the lens of an iPhone, but this image shows a steep descent and the ensuing uphill climb that follows, an incessant pattern on the trail.
The trail includes more than 2,700 steps and 1,700 feet in total elevation change, one way, which gives hikers who are into math a fun game to play while on the trail. Needless to say, I wasn’t counting the steps or calculating the ups and downs. The steps have been carved into the trail to diminish the damaging effects of erosion during rainy seasons. We’d have welcomed the cooling effect of some light rain on this hike, but we didn’t get so lucky.
To quote a wise Texan named Kacey Musgraves, “Texas is hot”. Um, yes girl. You nailed it. This is especially true in July. Although the trail winds through a heavily wooded area, shade becomes more sparse on the upper sections, where the trees open up to provide hikers with expansive views of the surrounding area. Even in the shade, however, the demanding nature of this trail will draw significant sweat from hikers of all skill levels. Based on what I’ve read, I’m not the only one who’s underestimated this trail, and paramedics frequently respond to calls from dehydrated and exhausted hikers here. Moral of the story: Bring more water than you think you’ll need.
my friend, Morgan, posed beneath a fallen tree on one of the few flat sections of trail
the view from one of overlooks along the trail’s upper section
Although the canyon backdrop provides plenty of gorgeous scenery, this journey’s most distinct and memorable feature is definitely the trail itself. Each and every step was worth the effort, and we felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment after we’d finished. Plus, taking a hike like that pretty much gives you free reign to eat and drink whatever you want afterwards and not think twice about it. That’s usually all the motivation I need to push onward.
BONUS: If your’e looking for a spot to take in some of the most breathtaking views in Austin, I’d recommend Mount Bonnell. Although the journey to the top involves ascending a stone staircase and trekking along a dirt trail, I’d hardly call this a hike. Reaching the top requires minimal effort, but the limitless views across the Colorado River and Austin skyline make this a must-see destination for visitors in the area.
Morgan and I on top of Mount Bonnell, with the Colorado River flowing in the background
I never doubted that summer would be the most difficult season of my New Year’s Resolution. It’s not easy to find a trail close to home that isn’t fiercely hot at this time of year. And as much as I regret to admit it, I don’t have the resources, financial or otherwise, to travel to cooler hiking destinations outside of the Southeast once a month during the warm season . Maine provided a stellar escape from the southern heat for May, and I’ve got epic plans for September (I’m keeping my cards close to the chest on that one for now). My best alternative for the months in between: water, and not just the drinkable kind.
the gorgeous series of rapids located at the trailhead of the path to Burgess Falls
In previous posts, I’ve expressed my love for waterfalls at length, and I’ve been lucky enough to witness an assortment of these beauties on my hikes throughout the year so far (I highly recommend hiking at Virgin Falls and Fall Creek Falls, both in Tennessee). In hindsight, maybe I should have saved these trails for summer, because very few things in life are more refreshing than taking a dip in a creek or swimming hole on a hot day. Fortunately, Tennessee is loaded with trails that provide hikers with ample opportunity to get their feet wet.
Window Cliffs
Window Cliffs State Natural Area, Tennessee
When looking for a new hike, I naturally start by asking people I know, but beyond that, my search begins at alltrails.com. I’m a big fan of AllTrails because this site enables users to share data from their own experience on different trails, and then organizes this information so that it’s easily searchable for those who may not know exactly what they’re looking for. Think of AllTrails as a version of Yelp for hikers, only with a lot less whining. I discovered Window Cliffs by searching through AllTrail’s listings for the top trails in Tennessee. After I read that this trail features nine creek crossings AND a waterfall, in addition to the namesake cliffs that look like something out of a Dr. Seuss book, I was sold.
My friend, Megan, came down from Louisville and joined me on this hike. She’s been a big part of my hiking journey to date (Old Rag Mountain in 2017 and Red River Gorge in 2018), and I felt excited to share this new hike with one of my closest friends (Plus, we had a lot of important things to talk about; it’s almost football season).
Megan, underneath this unnamed waterfall’s upper edge, Window Cliffs State Natural Area
One of the most challenging things about the Window Cliffs trail is finding it. Getting to this state park requires a journey down miles and miles of back roads, and you’ve got better odds of finding a unicorn in those woods than a cell signal. The last stretch of the drive leading to the park is actually a gravel path that runs through a privately owned farm. Although it feels like driving into the opening scene of a bad horror movie, the remote nature of this place is part of what makes it so appealing and special.
Window Cliffs is an out-and-back trail, which means that you turn around at the end point and hike out on the same route that brought you in. This essentially doubles the number of creek crossings, because the trail leads back across all nine of them again on the way out. I can’t speak to the water levels after significant rainfall, as the weather had been relatively dry during the week prior to my visit. Despite the lack of rain, only a couple of the creek crossings were dry, and walking through cold water so often throughout the hike brought welcome relief to our sweaty bodies and sore feet.
Each creek crossing is signed and numbered for reference. Here’s a glimpse of the expansive view across CC #3, one of the widest crossings on the trail.
All of the creek crossings are spread across about a mile or so of the middle section of the 2.75 mile trail to Window Cliffs, and this part of the path is fairly flat. However, the first and final sections of the trail, though short in distance, are relentlessly steep. This includes a sharp descent from the trailhead into the canyon and a steady climb to the top of the cliffs at the end of the trail. Along this upward climb, between the overlook across from the cliffs and the last section of the path that leads to the top, there’s a stunning (yet nameless, as far as I know) waterfall. By ducking underneath a railing beside this part of the trail, hikers willing to take a risk and venture away from the main trail can access an overgrown path down to the top of the falls. It’s a short journey that’s definitely worth the effort.
the gorgeous waterfall below Window Cliffs
After leaving the waterfall, we continued moving up the path that leads to the top of the cliffs. The trail doesn’t provide any view of the cliffs along this section, because of the dense forest, so we didn’t see them again until we’d reached the top. From there, the trail ends and the trees open up to reveal a narrow stretch of rocks that tower over the surrounding woodlands.
I wouldn’t advise anyone who’s uncomfortable with heights or exposure to climb up and over the rocks where the trail ends and venture out on top of the cliffs. The space is narrow, and the drop off on either side is completely vertical. However, if you’ve got the stomach for it, the views are magnificent in every direction, and unlike many of the hikes I’ve completed this year, the Window Cliffs trail isn’t widely known and receives few visitors. So, it’s likely that you’ll have the opportunity to enjoy the views from the top without anyone around to crowd the limited space or photo bomb your nature pics.
the jagged terrain on top of Window Cliffs, two hundred feet above the canyon’s floor
As with all trails that descend into a canyon, the hardest part of the hike isn’t going down, it’s coming back up on the way out. After nearly five miles of hiking under the blazing summer sun, we’d made it back across the trail’s first creek crossing. While the creek crossings provided sweet relief from the heat, hiking in wet shoes creates some serious blisters, which made the journey out of the canyon even more of a challenge. But the only way out is up, so that’s the way we went. After we emerged at the trailhead, tired and sore but inspired by a truly unique hiking experience, we moved on to the day’s next adventure.
Where there’s a flat rock in a shallow creek, there’s a basic white girl doing this, and it’s probably me.
Burgess Falls
Located a short distance from Window Cliffs, Burgess Falls is a popular destination for hikers and casual visitors. Although I’d heard of this place, I never gave it much thought. Fall Creek Falls receives so much praise as the highest plunge waterfall east of the Mississippi River, and most would agree that Virgin Falls ranks among the best trails in the state. I can’t debate the height of Fall Creek Falls, and in my limited experience, I haven’t found a better waterfall destination hike in Tennessee than the trail to Virgin Falls.
However, if asked to share my humble opinion on the most beautiful waterfall in the state, based on the waterfall alone and not any associated hike, I wouldn’t hesitate to nominate Burgess Falls.
Burgess Falls cascades down over 130 feet of rock wall before crashing into the river below.
The moderate half-mile trail to Burgess Falls runs along Falling Water River, beginning at a stunning cluster of small rapids (pictured near the beginning of this post), a space that’s easily accessible for those who want to wade in and cool off. Watch your step though, as Megan and I spotted a small water snake here. Water snakes are harmless and non-aggressive, but as a child growing up in a small town in Mississippi, I learned that it’s best to treat any snake encountered in the wild like it’s venomous, so we maintained a safe distance.
Surprisingly, this was my first snake sighting on any of the hikes I’ve taken this year.
The short path to the park’s namesake waterfall packs in a lot of scenery, as the fast-flowing river stays in view throughout the hike. This scenery includes the hauntingly beautiful remains of an abandoned, decaying bridge, hanging ominously above the powerful water below. The level section of the trail ends at an overlook that provides a magnificent view of Burgess Falls from above, before taking a sharp descent downward and then onto the top of the falls.
Unfortunately, the final section of trail that leads down to the bottom of the falls was closed when we visited, due to damage from erosion. Although this unexpectedly cut our adventure at Burgess Falls short, I’d still say it was well worth the trip.
Megan and I, at the top of Burgess Falls
In conclusion, the day was full of firsts and unexpected new favorites. Window Cliffs has officially claimed the top spot in my book for a summer hike in Tennessee. I enjoyed it so much the first time that I’ve actually already been back. I coaxed a couple of friends from Nashville into joining me on my second hike at Window Cliffs, two weeks after my first one. As for Burgess Falls, that one left me speechless. If you have the opportunity to see it in person, do it. This special place is only 80 miles east of Nashville, and the trail requires little effort to reach a spectacular view of the falls.
On deck for July: scorching heat and plenty of weirdness in Austin, Texas
Ever since my first hike of 2018 at Virgin Falls, I’ve been itching for another waterfall hike. I’ve always felt a fascination with waterfalls. There’s something majestic about the infinite motion of water cascading over a vertical rock face, always flowing and never stopping.
the signature attraction of my first (and coldest) hike of 2018, Virgin Falls, covered in hundreds of massive icicles
As the highest plunge waterfall (meaning the water drops vertically, losing contact with the rock surface) east of the Mississippi River, Fall Creek Falls has been on my bucket list for a while. Fall Creek Falls State Park and the surrounding areas endured a torrential downpour of rain for several days before I visited the park. Disclaimer: Wet conditions present a serious challenge on any trail, and I’d advise hikers to proceed with caution when considering a hike that may be impacted by weather. With that in mind, however, the best time to visit a waterfall is shortly after significant rainfall, when the water flow is at its peak.
Park visitors can catch a spectacular view of Fall Creek Falls from an easily accessible overlook. And when I say easily accessible, I mean this overlook has a parking lot attached and a set of bathrooms, no hiking required. Honestly, this surprised me, but then again, Fall Creek Falls is the most visited state park in Tennessee. After seeing the falls in person, I can understand why a view like this, that requires minimal effort, attracts so many visitors.
The overlook provides an immaculate view of Fall Creek Falls, which always appears to be shrouded in mist, resulting from the forceful impact of falling water hitting the creek below.
My friend, Lexi, joined me on this adventure. After parking in the lot at the overlook, we started out onto the network of trails that runs along the cliffs surrounding Fall Creek Falls. We didn’t have to hike very far before it felt like the civilized overlook was far behind us. The trails are designed to provide ambitious hikers with multiple vantage points of Fall Creek Falls, as well as the area’s other waterfalls. The main trail, Fall Creek Falls and Cane Creek Falls, has many short spur trails that provide worthwhile detours to secluded overlooks with expansive views.
a breathtaking view of Fall Creek Falls from a small section of cliff accessible from a spur running off the main trail
Wanting to make the most of our day at Fall Creek Falls, and having plenty of time to do so, Lexi and I decided without much hesitation to explore all of the spur trails that we encountered. The main trail is a 2.5 mile loop, and all of the spurs are relatively short (the longest one measures less than a mile, round trip). To say the least, some of these spurs were more worthwhile than others, but each presented a unique journey to a view that we’d have otherwise missed.
We actually ventured down the first spur trail by mistake. We assumed that the first split in the trail was the beginning of the loop, and that hiking in either direction would eventually bring us back to this spot. We veered to the left and didn’t think twice about it until we’d hiked almost half a mile further and found ourselves scrambling over roots and boulders along the edge of a high and precipitous cliff, several hundred feet above the floor of the gorge.
The first spur trail ended on top of a jagged section of cliff, surrounded on three sides by stunning views of Fall Creek Falls and the surrounding scenery.
another spectacular view of the gorge from above, and the creek that flows away from the foot of Fall Creek Falls
After some very careful and very exposed navigation on the edge of the cliff, we realized that there was no route forward from where we were. However, this happy accident provided us with some of the best views of the day, so this side trip set the precedent for deciding whether or not to explore the other spur trails that we encountered later.
We made our way back to the main trail, which eventually led across a wobbly suspension bridge, about twenty feet above the fast flowing water that runs over the edge of Cane Creek Falls. Although Cane Creek Falls can’t compete with Fall Creek Falls in height, it far exceeds the park’s namesake waterfall in volume. Cane Creek Falls is actually responsible for carving out the gorge, therefore making it possible for Fall Creek Falls and the other waterfalls in the area to form and thrive over time.
Cane Creek Falls, as viewed from the landing adjacent to the suspension bridge, which allows hikers to cross over to the other side of the falls
Although you can’t see it from the angle shown in the picture above, Rockhouse Falls, another of the park’s plunge waterfalls, is located just a few hundred feet away from Cane Creek Falls and cascades over the same rock face. The trail that leads to the suspension bridge runs along the top of the ridge that faces these two waterfalls, granting hikers access to idyllic views of both from above.
At 125 feet tall, Rockhouse Falls is about 40 feet taller than its neighbor, Cane Creek Falls, but still only half as high as Fall Creek Falls.
Lexi and I were lucky enough to see Rockhouse Falls and Cane Creek Falls from above AND from below, which brings me to our most exciting hike of the day: Cable Trail. “Exciting” is only one of many, many ways to describe our experience on this very short (but very dramatic) journey. When we initially reached the top of the cable, that first glimpse of the sharply downward trail to the banks of Cane Creek, at the foot of the waterfalls, sent waves of panic through my brain. I’d read that the Cable Trail was steep, but I didn’t expect it to be quite so intimidating.
This view of Cable Trail from half way down captures the severity of the trail’s the upper portion.
We were the only ones on the cable during our descent, so we didn’t have to worry about the potential domino effect of someone above us falling and taking us out with them on the way down. Hikers (or climbers, as that’s the more appropriate description) on this trail are definitely at the mercy of anyone above them on the cable. Because the cable isn’t within arm’s reach the entire time, we had to plan ahead to put ourselves in favorable positions as we made our way down to the bottom of the gorge.
Despite the lingering fear of slipping and falling, this was an exhilarating journey, and the reward was an intimately close view of Rockhouse Falls and Cane Creek Falls.
side by side view of Rockhouse Falls and Cane Creek Falls, from the bottom of Cable Trail
I’ve seen photos from other hikers who’ve completed this trek when the water level is much lower, which creates an opportunity walk out into the shallow water of Cane Creek for a closer view of the falls. Unfortunately, the creek was way too high and moving way too quickly for this to be an option for us. However, it’s very uncommon to catch a glimpse of these waterfalls flowing as heavily as they were when we saw them, and we were very lucky to experience this extraordinary view with no other people around.
taking a moment to celebrate this stunning view (and test my balancing skills)
In case you were wondering, the journey up the cable and back out of the gorge is even more challenging than the journey down. More importantly, it’s absolutely worth it, whether the falls are barely trickling over the edge of the cliff above or blasting at full force. That’s another thing I love about waterfalls: they’re constantly moving and therefore constantly changing. You can visit the same one a hundred times and witness something different every time.
Up next for May: a highly anticipated trip to Acadia National Park in Maine. I’ve heard great things and can’t stop daydreaming about what this place must look like in person. I’ve seen some amazing new places in 2018, each one more wild and beautiful than I could have imagined, so I’m sure this one will be full of surprises too.
