Day Hikes Near Nashville: Barfield Crescent Park

Amid the current circumstances with COVID, I’ve been embracing the opportunity to spend more time on trails close to home. Now more than ever, I feel very lucky to live in a place with close access to many beautiful hiking destinations. I think it’s still so important to spend time outside, while taking the recommended precautions, and that sunshine and sweat are inherently good for physical and mental health.

This mentality led me to Barfield Crescent Park in Murfreesboro, TN. From Nashville, the drive to this lovely park takes about 35 or 40 minutes, and the journey is worth it for those who want to avoid the crowds commonly found at Nashville parks like Percy Warner and Radnor Lake. I love those two Nashville parks, by the way, but sometimes the heavy foot traffic deflates the experience. I certainly wasn’t alone on the trail at Barfield Crescent Park, but when hiking the extended loop on a beautiful Sunday in late May, I encountered very few people beyond the first section of trail that leads to the swimming hole at Stones River. Despite its location in the middle of a sprawling suburban landscape, Barfield Crescent Park often feels surprisingly remote, and social distancing wasn’t difficult at all during my hike here. As is the case with many heavily trafficked urban or suburban parks, the paved sections of trail close to the parking lots and trailheads are wide enough to comfortably accommodate two-way foot traffic, even during a pandemic. Beyond that, more rugged trail options provide an escape from the crowds.

views of Stones River from the trail

Hiking the loop counter clockwise, I stopped briefly at the Stones River swimming hole (located about three quarters of a mile from the trailhead), which is little more than an easily accessible section of creek that’s deep enough for swimming. If you’re expecting to find a swimming hole in Murfreesboro like what you’d find at Cummins Falls or Foster Falls, prepare to be disappointed. There’s no waterfall on this hike. On a hot day, however, the calm and relatively shallow waters provide a safe and refreshing environment for swimmers and sunbathers of all ages. When I visited on a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon in late May, I was surprised to find myself in the company of less than twenty people at the swimming hole.

my secluded corner of the swimming hole

I opted out of swimming and continued to work my way around the loop. The trail beyond the swimming hole is unpaved and very narrow, providing access to an immersive experience in a woodland oasis secluded from its neighboring subdivisions and outlet malls. The main trail, Marshall Knobs Trail, forms a 2.5 mile loop (including the paved section that leads to the swimming hole), but visitors can stretch this loop into a 4.5 mile hike with the addition of two horseshoe shaped spur trails, Valley View and Rocky Path. Although the trail is uneven and rugged in many places, there’s little elevation gain, making this an easy and pleasant journey for hikers of all ages and fitness levels. I encountered fewer than ten other hikers on the unpaved parts of the trail, which has never happened on any of the dozens of hikes I’ve taken at Percy Warner Park or Radnor Lake in Nashville, not even on winter days with subfreezing temperatures or summer days with triple a digit heat index from sunrise to sunset.

The trail continues to run parallel to Stones River past the swimming hole before turning inland about 1.3 miles into the hike. From here, the trail passes through a unique landscape littered with dozens of mysterious sinkholes. I’m sure everyone reading this has extensive knowledge of Tennessee’s geological history (jokes, I checked my facts on Google before posting this). However, in case you aren’t familiar with sinkholes or why Tennessee has so many of them, here’s a brief overview. Tennessee’s foundation is loaded with limestone, a notoriously soft rock that erodes more quickly than most other types of rock found below the earth’s surface. Water causes erosion, and Tennessee’s humid subtropical climate delivers a high volume of rainfall. Rain drips into the foundation below the soil and erodes the limestone beneath the earth’s surface over time, creating our state’s vast network of underground caverns and rivers. Eventually, erosion can strip away more limestone from the foundation than what’s needed to bear the weight of the ground above it, causing the surface layer to collapse into a hollow space in the earth formerly occupied by rock. This, ladies and gents, is where sinkholes come from.

one of many sinkholes alongside the trail at Barfield Crescent Park

Barfield Crescent Park is loaded with sinkholes, which might be why this land became a park instead of a residential or commercial development. Regardless, I’ve never seen more sinkholes so close together on any hike I’ve ever taken. It’s fair to assume, however, that most sinkholes in the forest go unnoticed unless you’re looking for them, and I’m usually not. Sinkholes aren’t particularly cute, unless they mature and evolve into caves, which is common in Tennessee but obviously not something that happens quickly enough to notice during a single lifetime.

On this hike, the sinkholes are hard to miss because they’re literally everywhere, dotting the densely wooded landscape like little craters with vein-like roots and vines climbing their smooth limestone walls. Because sinkholes are delicate micro ecosystems, avoid climbing down into them. Also, sinkholes are inherently cool, dark, and damp pits, which makes them prime real estate for snakes. In this park, you’ll have ample opportunity to admire sinkholes from them trail without disrupting their fragility or putting your own safety at risk.

Hiking at Barfield Crescent Park feels like an escape, not a stroll through the neighborhood.

You’ll likely have cell service throughout this hike, and I’d recommend using the AllTrails map for the Barfield Wilderness Trail Loop after the trail turns away from the river. You won’t get truly lost in this park, but the network of intersecting trails can be difficult to navigate, and there aren’t many signs. I accidentally ended up on the bike trail at one point, and I encountered another hiker who was hiking in the opposite direction along his intended course after getting turned around when reconnecting with the main trail after following one of the spurs.

As I completed the loop and returned to the parking lot, where a visitor center and its adjoining bathrooms were locked due to COVID (just an FYI, if you plan to visit soon), I felt pleasantly surprised by this trail. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much, considering the location. I’d originally planned to hike at Old Stone Fort on this particular day, but that parking lot was full when I arrived, and TN State Parks isn’t allowing parking outside of designated spaces right now, as a measure to increase safety by limiting foot traffic on trails. Barfield Crescent Park was my back-up plan, but the accessibility from Nashville and light foot traffic made the experience very worthwhile nonetheless.

scenic views along the trail at Barfield Crescent Park

Waterfall Hikes of South Cumberland State Park: Foster Falls and Denny Cove

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.

My 2018 New Year’s Resolution: The Final Chapter

One year ago, I had this tiny impulse to take a hike on a trail I’d never visited before. Honestly, this idea didn’t begin as a New Year’s Resolution. I’d never followed through on a New Year’s Resolution before, so as 2018 approached, I had little incentive to make that annual empty promise to become “better” in the coming year. I was burnt out on resolutions, and I didn’t want to deal with the subsequent self-loathing of failing to achieve a goal set with good intentions, even with the knowledge that success was never very realistic to begin with. The timing of this idea that evolved into my New Year’s Resolution was purely coincidental, a thought born out of boredom and a nagging desire to fill the cold post-holiday void known as January. My journey didn’t really begin until I realized that hiking this one trail I’d been wanting to explore for a while might only be the first chapter of a much bigger adventure.

Big Laurel Falls, one of many stunning sights along the hike to Virgin Falls in Tennessee, the trail where my 2018 New Year’s Resolution began

There’s no comprehensive way to quantify my hiking experience over the past twelve months, but I’ll give it my best shot: twenty-five previously unexplored trails, seven states, five mountain summits, dozens of waterfalls, a handful of caves, a few snakes, twenty or so alligators (yep, that happened), plus five incredible humans and two dogs who accompanied me on these assorted journeys. And that list barely scratches the surface.

While driving from Miami to Key West in March 2018, Andy and I took a detour to Everglades National Park, where we followed the Anhinga Trail through the heart of the swamp. Along this 1.5 mile trail, we saw about two dozen alligators, often with only a few yards and a patch of muddy grass separating us from them.

Words and numbers can’t capture the countless views that took my breath away, or the heart-pounding moments of intense exposure and narrow ledges that forced me to make a choice: confront my fear of heights and press on, or turn around and go home. I’m so grateful for every minute of this adventure and the value it added to my life in 2018, and one of my biggest triumphs is the fact that when presented with that choice, I never turned around and went home. I came close a few times, and there are a couple of hikes that I know I couldn’t have completed without support from my trail companions.

My friend, Megan, gave me the courage to shimmy across the smooth, vertical rock wall that led to the top of Cloud Splitter at Red River Gorge (and she went first to prove it wasn’t a death trap). Andy climbed the tallest peak in the Rocky Mountains with me, and for me, just because it was my birthday and I wanted to do it (one of many reasons why I’m marrying him). On my first new hike of 2018 at Virgin Falls, I was alone and slipped on a patch of ice, which sent me tumbling down a drop-off from the trail and into the dry creek bed below. A nameless stranger went out of his way to help me climb out and make sure I wasn’t seriously injured. Without that act of kindness, I may have abandoned this entire journey before it even began. I could go on and on about the support that’s carried me throughout this grand adventure.

the distant peaks of Rocky Mountain National Park, as viewed from the top of Green Mountain (8,150 ft) in Boulder, Colorado. I hiked to the top of this mountain in September 2018 via the Green Mountain West Trail

All of this brings me to the final chapter of my 2018 New Year’s Resolution. I didn’t climb a mountain or plan a trip to some remote wilderness on the other side of the country. I drove to Prentice Cooper State Forest, two hours southeast of Nashville and a short distance from Chattanooga. I didn’t learn about the trail to Snooper’s Rock until after Christmas, so not much planning went into my decision. But to be fair, not much planning went into my decision to start this journey in the first place, so it seems kind of appropriate.

The Cumberland Trail combines more than 200 miles of disjointed trail segments along the eastern border of Tennessee. My journey to and from Snooper’s Rock totaled 6 miles, though the namesake attraction is more easily accessible from a separate half-mile trail attached to a nearby parking lot. The section of trail that I hiked stretches along a high bluff, hundreds of feet above the Tennessee River, the same Tennessee River that runs through other parts of Tennessee, Alabama, and Kentucky before flowing into the Ohio River and eventually the Mississippi. For the most part, the trail runs close enough to the sharp edge of the bluff to expose panoramic views of the river below.

views across the Tennessee River Gorge from the Cumberland Trail approaching the overlook at Snooper’s Rock

There are many things that I enjoy about hiking in Tennessee during the colder months. Fewer people on the trails, much milder winter weather than the oppressive heat and humidity of summer, waterfalls and high rock walls adorned with hundreds of massive icicles, and enhanced visibility along trails due to the naked trees. My hike to Snooper’s Rock in late December checked all of these boxes. When I arrived at the small parking area beside the trailhead, there couldn’t have been more than five other cars in the lot. About half a mile into the journey, the trail descends through a staircase built into a crevice of a massive rock, which reminded me of the Stone Door at Savage Gulf (read more about that here), where I hiked in August 2018. Beyond this point, I only passed about six or eight other hikers on my way to Snooper’s Rock. Upon my arrival, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I had the place all to myself, at least for a few minutes until two other people showed up.

the magnificent view from Snooper’s Rock, high above the Tennessee River Gorge and absolutely stunning, even on a cloudy day in December

Snooper’s Rock extends like a peninsula from the edge of the bluff, providing panoramic views of the Tennessee River Gorge below. The rock area is large, flat, and treeless, with ample space in the middle for visitors who want to keep a safe distance from the edge without diminishing the impact of the view. Of course, if you’re like me and prefer the adrenaline rush of standing inches from the edge of a high cliff (sorry, mom), there’s plenty of room for that as well.

Every time I have the opportunity to confront my innate fear of heights, I take it. I understand the risk, but in my lifetime, I know I’ll only explore a microscopic fraction of this world’s wild and beautiful places. Time, resources, and access all create barriers beyond my control. But a fear of heights? That’s internal, and it’s one of the few things I can control. Conquering this fear significantly increases my limited opportunity to see places that I’d otherwise never even consider. It’s not easy, but I’m overcoming it a step (closer to the edge) at a time. It takes practice, plus a willingness to accept overwhelming vulnerability and then fight to find comfort in it, while exercising extreme caution and common sense, of course. Sure, challenging my fear of heights could lead me to an early death, or it could lead me down a path that ends with climbing Mount Everest one day. Neither scenario is very likely, so odds are quite high that I’ll land somewhere in between, happy and blessed.

Yes, those feet are mine, extended over the edge of Snooper’s Rock, a few hundred feet about the bottom of the gorge. This is how I practice a thing I refer to as “heights tolerance”.

I knew long before this final new hike of 2018 that I’d carry this resolution over into 2019. This journey means more than an annual promise to me, and while I’m so proud of how it all unfolded last year, I’m even more excited about what the future holds. As I write this, on the last day of the first month of the new year (another delayed post, something I’ll do my best to improve on in 2019), I’ve already completed my first hike of the new year, at Mount Rainier National Park in Washington. This place is mesmerizing, even in January during a government shutdown, and I can’t wait to share that experience. I’ve got plenty of other big plans for new hikes in 2019, including San Diego for an extended business trip in March and Telluride for our wedding in July. Side note: Ecstatic doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about marrying Andy in front of a small group of people we love and a big mountain backdrop.

the summit of Penobscot Mountain in Acadia National Park in Maine, May 2018, one of my favorite new hikes last year AND one of my favorite vacations yet with my soon-to-be husband

As I move into the next phase of this adventure, one thing remains abundantly clear: This journey is not about checking off locations on a map. It’s about setting aside time at least once a month to do something I love, something I can experience either by myself or with others who share my curiosity about nature. It’s less about the actual trails and more about the thrill of seeing something beautiful for the first time. That’s what inspired me in 2018, and it’s the fuel that’s keeping this fire burning in 2019.

So, cheers to 2019! if last year was any indication, this one’s going to be WILD .

Percy Warner Park: Warner Woods Trail

It’s been a while since my new hike for November, so this post is long overdue. It’s New Year’s Day, and since Thanksgiving, I took three business trips and two weekend trips with friends, in addition to spending a week in New Orleans with my family over Christmas. In the middle of all of this, the best thing among so many other good things happened: I got engaged. In a sweet, private, beautiful moment, Andy created the most perfect and humbling reminder that my passion for adventure pales in comparison to the passion I have for the people who I call home.

Among the people who I call home, there’s also a dog (or two, maybe all of them). In November, for the first time since I began this journey, my very own fluffy companion joined me on a hike. Zoey, a husky/border collie mix, was active and energetic for the first several years of her life. In a heartbreaking stroke of bad luck, this otherwise healthy dog developed medical problems at age five and lost her sight as a result. Naturally, her personality has become much more cautious since then, and extended hikes on trails with rugged terrain would bring her more stress than joy. We still enjoy walks on the paved and mostly flat surfaces of our neighborhood, but finding a hiking trail that’s compatible with a blind dog isn’t easy. It’s not something that pulls up a lot of search results on Google (trust me, I tried), but we found a perfect gem in the Warner Woods trail at Percy Warner Park, conveniently located right here in Nashville.

my sweet Zoey, loving life on the Warner Woods trail in Nashville

I’ve visited Percy Warner Park many times, but prior to last month, the only trail I’d ever hiked there was the Mossy Ridge trail (pleasant scenery and an amazing workout for your thighs and glutes). The Warner Woods trail has been on my radar for a while, but it wasn’t a high priority until I realized that this could be an ideal opportunity to find a trail that Zoey and I might be able to enjoy on a regular basis.

The trail begins with a classic Nashville backdrop, one of few that doesn’t involve neon signs or generic murals. The expansive stone staircase climbing uphill through a canopy of trees to the trailhead attracts a lot of attention, because if there’s one thing both locals and visitors to Nashville love, it’s a good photo op. If you’re a blind dog, however, stairs are your kryptonite. Going up is easy after you figure out what’s happening, but going down requires some emotional support and coaching from your seeing eye human. Luckily, these stairs are broken into sections, separated by flat areas with grassy slopes on either side.

the old stone staircase that climbs the hill leading up to the Warner Woods trailhead

After ascending the staircase and reaching the trailhead, we started hiking counter clockwise along the Warner Woods trail, which forms a mild 2.5 mile loop through the scenic woodlands of Percy Warner Park. Aside from a few moderate slopes, the trail is mostly flat, wide, and appropriate for human and canine hikers across all fitness levels. Zoey and I hiked this trail on a cloudy Sunday afternoon and encountered many other hikers, but we still enjoyed plenty of moments of solitude, so the trail didn’t feel overcrowded. Zoey acted skeptical about the trail at first, frequently pushing her paw out into the air to ensure that we weren’t still climbing the stairs. She gradually gained confidence, and it didn’t take long for her to adapt to the unfamiliar surroundings.

Only a few leaves remained on the trees surrounding the Warner Woods trail in late November when we hiked here.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure how Zoey would react to the trail, and I was prepared to turn around and abort the mission at any time if the journey became more challenging than fun for her. That never happened. Zoey loved it, and I was one proud dog mama. We didn’t encounter many obstacles on the trail, like loose rock or roots that could make her trip, but when we did, we slowed down enough to allow her to test her footing and adjust accordingly.

In November, the weather was cool but not cold, which made hiking conditions ideal for both of us. The trees provide enough cover to convince me that this short trail wouldn’t be so bad in the summer months either. The trail’s natural beauty matches that of its more popular neighbor in Percy Warner Park, the Mossy Ridge trail, but provides a less physically demanding alternative for hikers who want to enjoy the park’s idyllic scenery without much effort.

holding onto my sweet girl who’s too distracted by the scents of nature to sit still for a photo

Although the Warner Woods trail doesn’t lead to a towering waterfall or expansive overlook, I’m more excited to revisit this one than any of the new hikes I’ve discovered this year. The Mossy Ridge trail’s rugged terrain would be too much for Zoey, and dogs aren’t allowed on the unpaved sections of trail at Radnor Lake. While there are many worthwhile paved trails throughout Nashville, Zoey and I prefer the raw feel of dirt beneath our feet. I’m so happy to have found a trail that we can enjoy together.

Since we’re already a day into 2019 (and I’m just now getting around to posting about my new hike from a month and a half ago), I’m excited to announce that I successfully completed my New Year’s Resolution for 2018. I won’t wait another month and half to share my experience on my final new hike of 2018, and it was a fantastic finish. I can confidently say that this journey has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I’ll discuss the significance of this experience in more detail in my next post, but I decided a long time ago that this resolution was worth keeping for 2019. So, cheers to a new year full of new adventures, and I’m so very grateful for 2018 and all of its blessings.

Here’s a photo from one of my most memorable hikes in 2018, one that I haven’t mentioned on my blog because it was unfairly overshadowed by my summit of Mount Elbert. The twin peaks on right are Colorado’s infamous Maroon Bells, as photographed from the trailhead of the Crater Lake Trail