Tag: new years resolution

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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
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Fiery Gizzard Trail to Raven’s Point

As much as I enjoy hiking with the people I love, there’s something empowering about tackling a new and challenging trail by myself. I frequently hike alone on trails I’m familiar with (Radnor Lake and Percy Warner Park offer access to amazing trails within the Nashville city limits), but I rarely embark on a solo hike on a previously unexplored trail. I’m not afraid to be by myself in the wild; I just usually prefer to have some company and love sharing new adventures with others who appreciate the experience as much as I do. Prior to last month’s hike at Fiery Gizzard, however, I’d only been alone on a new trail twice in 2018, and my bravery was at its peak after climbing Mount Elbert in September (pun intended, sorry about it).

Raven’s Point is the most expansive overlook on the trail, and luckily, I met another hiker here who was willing to take a photo of me.

The origins of Fiery Gizzard’s unique name are ambiguous and contested amongst Tennesseans, but locals unanimously agree on the trail’s status as one of the state’s most pristine hiking destinations. Located in South Cumberland State Park, the Fiery Gizzard Trail runs through a gorge only a dozen or so miles away from Savage Gulf, where I hiked in August. If you read that post, you may remember it as the place with all the snakes. Needless to say, I was acutely aware of this as I embarked on my hike at Fiery Gizzard, all by myself.

All things considered, I’d been looking forward to this trail for months, and I’d patiently waited to hike here until fall. I wanted to witness firsthand the accounts I’d heard about the magnificent colors of the changing leaves. Understandably, one rumor about the origins of Fiery Gizzard’s name credits the blazing fall colors. I planned this hike a week or so in advance, hoping that fall had arrived more quickly in the deep backwoods of southeast Tennessee than it had in Nashville. Unfortunately, it hadn’t. Despite this, I was grateful for the cooler temperatures and quickly realized that even without fall colors, every inch of this place radiates limitless natural beauty. 

the aptly named Blue Hole Falls, as viewed from the Grundy Day Loop

The route that I hiked, Fiery Gizzard to Raven’s Point, forms a double loop, starting with the Grundy Day Loop. From the Grundy Forest trailhead, the journey covers nearly ten miles of mostly strenuous hiking. As it was at Savage Gulf, the trail through the bottom of the gorge at Fiery Gizzard is extremely rocky and uneven, but the final stretch (before the trail reconnects with the Grundy Day Loop) runs along a mostly flat three-mile section of trail along the upper rim. In contrast with my hike at Savage Gulf, however, I saw many other hikers at Fiery Gizzard, on all sections of the trail. I passed other hikers frequently enough to feel like I wasn’t completely alone on the trail, but not often enough to lose the sense of blissful solitude that I’d intended to find.

The trail begins its descent quickly, leading down into the gorge and past enormous rock walls and several small waterfalls. Despite fairly dry weather in the days prior to my hike, plenty of water flowed through the creek, dancing around boulders and rushing over rock edges as it traveled down into the lower section of the gulf. The trail leads over a couple of wooden bridges, crossing a few smaller streams that eventually converge to form Fiery Gizzard Creek. Throughout the hike along the bottom of the gorge, Fiery Gizzard Creek flows parallel to the trail.

Fiery Gizzard Creek (flowing lightly on the right) runs parallel to the trail (moving upward on the left)

The most challenging portion of the trail stretches four miles from the intersection of the Grundy Day Loop and Fiery Gizzard Trail through the climb out of the gulf. This section resembles a game of connect the dots, where the uneven and often vaguely marked dirt path connects numerous boulder fields that hikers must scramble across in order to find the trail again. These boulder fields reminded me of the rocky terrain at the bottom of Savage Gulf, but more numerous and slightly more difficult to traverse. Because many of the rocks are loose, I often had to pause to evaluate the safest route forward or test my footing before putting my full weight on the next stone.

one of many extensive boulder fields along the bottom of Fiery Gizzard

Due to the constantly changing levels across the boulder fields, the next trail marker isn’t always clearly visible, so it’s easy to take a few steps in the wrong direction and end up exiting a boulder field with no trail in sight. I accidentally ventured away from the trail countless times, and then had to back track across the boulder field and start again. I never felt truly lost, luckily, and always managed to find my way again within a few minutes. One of the many advantages of hiking with a partner: Two sets of eyes looking from even marginally different angles are more likely spot a trail marker than a single set of eyes limited to one perspective. I wasn’t in a hurry, however, and I appreciate obscure trail markers because they aren’t a distraction from their unspoiled natural surroundings.

As with any hike through a gulf, getting out is tougher than getting in. After the final boulder field, the trail starts to rise and venture away from its comforting proximity to Fiery Gizzard Creek. A merciless series of switchbacks traverse upward and out of the gulf, but much to my surprise, I didn’t feel nearly as breathless on this part of the journey as I did during the very similar climb out of Savage Gulf. To be clear, it wasn’t easy – don’t underestimate this stretch if you ever find yourself on the Fiery Gizzard Trail. I exclusively credit my experience here to timing – the cooler October temperatures (compared to the blistering heat when I visited Savage Gulf in August) and my leftover strength after a rigorous training routine in preparation for Mount Elbert a month earlier. Regardless, when I reached the top of the gulf, my muscles ached but I didn’t need to stop and rest.

the final glimpse of Fiery Gizzard creek before the trail begins to climb out of the gulf

The dense forest along the short spur to Raven’s Point blocks any view of the gulf below until the trail abruptly ends at the overlook. The point extends sharply into the gulf, providing views from above across miles and miles of the gorgeous wilderness below. The views from Raven’s Point rival any I’ve seen on my various hikes along some of the most beautiful trails in Tennessee. The trees at the trail’s end provide enough cover to shade hikers from the sun’s glare, but they’re sparse enough to offer unobstructed views of the gulf on three sides. There’s no shortcut or alternative route that bypasses the tougher parts of the trail. Even the return trail along the rim becomes steep and difficult for a stretch before it reconnects with the Grundy Day Loop. As is usually the case though, the journey is worth the effort.

the panoramic view across the gorge from Raven’s Point

Although Savage Gulf and Fiery Gizzard each offer distinctly different and unique charms, it’s difficult to avoid comparing the two. Their close proximity to each other, the similarities in the terrain and level of difficulty, and the length of each trail are only a few of many reasons why hikers consider these to be similar hiking destinations. Only having hiked each trail once, Savage Gulf seemed more difficult to me, but again, this could be attributed to timing. Also, the return route along the rim at Savage Gulf offered more opportunities to take in views across the gorge than the one at Fiery Gizzard, which ventured through a dense woodland with few overlooks. In my humble opinion, however, the trail through the bottom of Fiery Gizzard, with the creek rushing alongside the trail, offers more aesthetic appeal than the section of trail running through the bottom of the Savage Gulf (and not just because I didn’t see any snakes at Fiery Gizzard).

In short, I’d encourage anyone who’s able to hike both trails and form their own opinions. As my mom would say when my brother and I would argue about which one of us was the “favorite” growing up, it’s not a competition. That’s one of the many things I love about exploring out in nature: even when presented with very similar options, no two places are exactly alike.

one more photo of the lush wilderness at the bottom of Fiery Gizzard

 

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Austin, Texas: McKinney Falls and River Place Nature Trail

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

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Red River Gorge and Natural Bridge State Park

There’s more than one way to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

This year, instead of drinking green beer on a patio, I traveled to Red River Gorge in eastern Kentucky with two friends for an overnight hiking trip. Before this trip, I hadn’t slept in a tent since I was a kid, so I was really excited (and a little nervous, because you know, bears…) about the opportunity to sleep under the stars and roast marshmellows over a campfire. In reality, we had to put a cover over the top of the tent to keep the rain out, and there was no campfire to roast marshmellows over, also because of the rain. But hey, that’s why we brought wine, which we enjoyed inside the tent after a long day of exploring, protected from the rain (and the bears).

a stunning view of Red River Gorge from above, via the top of the Cloud Splitter Trail

Candidly, the camping piece of our weekend was not very primitive. We pitched our tent in an assigned spot at a campground. We drove right up to our spot and actually had access to indoor plumbing. All things considered, these were ideal conditions for a novice camper like me. We got to experience sleeping outside (next to a babbling brook, I might add), but didn’t have to carry all of our supplies up the side of a mountain. I have no doubt that I could handle more extreme camping, but I’ll never underestimate a scenario that allows me to sleep out in nature without sacrificing bathroom access.

After we prepared the campsite and erected our tent on Saturday morning, we set out to find and climb the infamous Indian Staircase, a very smooth  and steep rock face that adventurous hikers can scale with no equipment by relying on small recesses worn into the rock over hundreds of years.

the small cavities that run several hundred feet up the rock face, giving the Indian Staircase its name

An important thing to note about Red River Gorge is that many of its 100+ trails are unmarked and can be difficult to find unless you know what you’re looking for. For example, Indian Staircase is only accessible through a series of spur trails originating  from the Bison Way Trailhead. Despite some thorough research, my friends and I accidentally hiked around the backside of this section of the gorge and came out on top of Indian Staircase.

view from the top of Indian Staircase

The path we followed was completely gorgeous, but I honestly can’t tell you how we ended up on top of Indian Staircase, except that we opted for the more upward route every time the trail split. We thought that this would eventually lead us to the foot of the staircase, but we came around a sharp corner on a high and narrow trail only to realize that we’d already reached the top via an alternate route. Oops! Ideally, we’d have hiked to the bottom of the staircase and ventured up, as crawling down proved to be much more of a challenge than climbing up.

panoramic view of the gorge on the way up to Indian Staircase

view of Indian Staircase from about a mile or so away, where the trees open up enough to give hikers their first view of the staircase from the trail

After a slow, careful descent of Indian Staircase, we followed a series of paths back out to the Bison Way Trailhead. From there, we made our way over to the Cloud Splitter Trail, which proved to be the most difficult, but most rewarding, hike of the weekend. As with the trails that provide access to Indian Staircase, the trail up to Cloud Splitter isn’t signed. However, on this hike, the “always upward” strategy works. I could provide more specific direction, but actually finding this gem is part of the fun, so good luck (:

shamelessly taking a selfie break between the Indian Staircase and Cloud Splitter trails

This one felt like an obstacle course, demanding and dangerous at times but totally worth the effort. After a steep upward hike that involved scrambling over rocks and hoisting ourselves up the steep path, using roots and vines for leverage, we reached the mouth of a cave. The visible trail ends here, presenting hikers who want to proceed further with two options: through the cave or over it. Each route has a unique and breathtakingly gorgeous end point, but both present significant challenges.

We decided to venture through the cave first, enticed by rumors we’d heard about the view from the opening on the other side. To say the least, getting through the cave involved more climbing and crawling than hiking. The total distance from the mouth of the cave to the opening on the other side can’t be more than 100 yards, but the end isn’t visible until you’re almost there.

one of the small openings we had to squeeze through in the cave

Needless to say, this part of the journey would be uncomfortable for a person of size or anyone who feels apprehensive in small, confined spaces. The view that awaits the ambitious hiker on the other side, however, is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The opening provides a stunning view of the gorge below, and the flat lower surfaces of the cave allow hikers to comfortably sit with their feet dangling over the sharp edge for an exhilarating view of the surrounding scenery.

the view of the gorge from inside the cave, nestled in the vertical rock face near the top of Cloud Splitter

my friend, Megan, enjoying the view from the cave’s edge, high above the bottom of the gorge

We stayed here for a while, taking in the gorgeous views, before traveling back out to the mouth of the cave and making our way up the final section of rock that leads to the top of Cloud Splitter. Admittedly, this part of the journey was terrifying, but thrilling at the same time. Apparently, the park service puts ropes in place here during the peak summer season, to assist hikers with the most perilous section of the climb. The ropes weren’t up yet, this early in the year, so I channeled my inner Spiderman and asked God for forgiveness on a couple of unresolved transgressions (just in case) as I shimmied across the smooth and nearly vertical rock surface that diagonally climbs up toward more level ground.

As you may suspect, I survived, and the reward was absolutely worth the risk. The top of Cloud Splitter provides a spectacular 360 degree view of Red River Gorge. It’s one of those truly special experiences that’s difficult to capture in words or photos and impossible to comprehend unless you’re there in person to take it all in.

breathtaking view of the Red River running through the gorge, on top of Cloud Splitter and about 100 feet directly above the cave

With rain and nightfall approaching, we descended back into the gorge and rewarded ourselves for the 6+ miles of strenuous hiking with a pizza feast at Miguel’s, a dive that’s deservedly popular with both locals and visitors. Sleep came easily in our tent that night, as the result of full stomachs and tired muscles (and the wine, of course).

The following day, we headed over to Natural Bridge State Park, an area adjacent to Red River Gorge and a short 20 minute drive from where we camped. We set out on a 3.5 mile hike along the Natural Bridge and Battleship Rock Trail.

standing on Battleship Rock, across the gorge from the Natural Bridge

The first mile of the hike is a steady uphill climb through a combination of natural inclines and manmade staircases. The path traverses through a serene forest before it curves upward through a narrow, rocky passage and emerges on top of Battleship Rock. Battleship Rock provides a beautiful view of Natural Bridge from about a mile away (as pictured above), but the trail eventually leads across the top of the bridge, which in return offers an unobstructed view of the immense Battleship Rock (as pictured below).

panoramic view of Battleship Rock from the top of Natural Bridge

The section of the trail between Battleship Rock and Natural Bridge is fairly level, as it’s on top of the wall of the gorge, and there are plenty of opportunities to veer off the main trail to explore short spurs that lead to various overlook points on either side. After crossing over the top of Natural Bridge, the trail then descends down, around, and under the bridge, offering hikers amazing views of this natural phenomenon from every angle.

taking a moment to enjoy the view at an overlook along the ridge between Battleship Rock and Natural Bridge

All things considered, this St. patrick’s Day celebration may have been my best one yet. I didn’t have any green beer or find any four-leaf clovers, but I felt beyond lucky to experience this holiday in an unconventional way with friends who share my passion for exploring. I’m not sure what’s on deck for April, but March’s adventure at Red River Gorge will be tough to beat.

one more photo from the cave, to show off the shamrock shirts

 

 

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Harpeth River State Park: Hidden Lake Double Loop Trail and Narrows of the Harpeth

Short months mean short hikes. Right?

Seriously, I didn’t expect to have to improvise this early into my resolution , but as they say, everything happens for a reason. That reason in February: rain. Then more rain, followed by… you guessed it, RAIN. Compared to years past, Nashville and the surrounding areas received nearly three times the average amount of rainfall in February. Due to other obligations, a hike more than a day trip away from Nashville wasn’t realistic for me last month. So, I found myself approaching the second half of February, with only one dry weekend day left in forecast in the already short month.

And what a beautiful day it turned out to be.

Bluff Overlook Trail at Narrows of the Harpeth, Harpeth River State Park, Tennessee

I’d already ruled out several more strenuous hikes further away home, not willing to wade through mud and slip over perilous wet rocks for miles and miles when I can experience these trails in much better condition later in the year. So Fiery Gizzard, you’ll remain at the top of my list for Tennessee hikes in 2018 for at least one more month. In a scramble to find just one worthwhile hike close to home, on a trail that would still be relatively enjoyable despite wet conditions, I found two.

Harpeth River State Park, home to the Hidden Lake Double Loop Trail and the Bluff Overlook Trail at Narrows of the Harpeth, offers a pristine escape from the city. The park is only a 30 minute drive from downtown, or a 10 minute drive from the O’Charley’s in Bellevue, where I frequently meet my grandparents for lunch on Sundays.

After one of these Sunday lunches, my significant other and I drove out to the trailhead of our first hike, the Hidden Lake Double Loop Trail. Honestly, I didn’t have high expectations for this one. I’d never heard any friends or coworkers mention it, and the trailhead is only 1.5 miles away from  a perpetually busy section of I-40. Despite these details, it didn’t take long for me to realize that this trail is truly a hidden gem, and our Sunday afternoon here was absolutely well spent.

swampy conditions in the woods surrounding the Hidden Lake Double Loop Trail

The first section of the trail runs parallel to the Harpeth River, which was abnormally high and muddy when we visited, due to all of the recent rain. However, the sun was out on this day, and the trail was actually in better condition than I’d expected. This part of trail winds through a dense forest, before it eventually splits to form the narrow and rocky loop around the lake. We followed the path to the left at the fork, walking through the forest beneath a high bluff to the right of the trail before arriving at the lake.

While the vast majority of the lake is surrounded by steep bluffs, there’s a short spur off the main trail that leads down to the water’s edge.

There’s no view of the lake from the trail that leads there until you’re basically standing right in front of it, hence the name: Hidden Lake. The lake is small (the the entire loop around the lake runs about half of a mile), and it’s gorgeous. The trail ascends steadily from the spur that runs down to the water, so the loop around the lake provides a variety of scenic views from above. Along the way, there are plenty of opportunities to venture off the main trail  to explore the bluffs and take a closer look over the edge.

a view of Hidden Lake from the trail along the bluffs

Hidden Lake is pretty enough on its own to make the short journey worthwhile, but there’s more to this trail than the lake. After the trail loops around and starts to veer away from the lake, it runs past a series of abandoned, dilapidated buildings. Unexpected, right? This is the hike’s most unique feature. Despite the trail’s steady stream of foot traffic and relative proximity to civilization, these old structures have been left alone and mostly untouched, destined to decay on their own without much human interference. It’s oddly peaceful and nostalgic.

the eerie view approaching one of the decaying buildings along the trail

the remains of a home, sharing space with the plant life that’s grown up through its rooms over time

an abandoned shed in the woods close to the trail

Soon after passing the abandoned buildings, the loop reconnects with the main trail and leads down the bluff and back out to the trailhead. We completed the 2-mile round trip hike in about an hour and a half. It’d be easy to finish this hike in less time if you don’t veer off the main trail or stop to take in the scenery, but where’s the fun in that? Take your time with this one. It’s worth it.

After leaving the Hidden Lake Double Loop Trail, we took the scenic drive over to Narrows of the Harpeth, about 15 minutes away. Harpeth River State Park is surprisingly large, and these two trailheads aren’t within walking distance of each other. We set out on the Bluff Overlook Trail, which can barely be considered a hike because the total distance from the parking lot to the overlook and back is less than a mile. Unsurprisingly, the hike to the overlook is mostly an uphill journey.

Bluff Overlook Trail at Narrows of the Harpeth

As the trail climbs, the view of the surrounding scenery below expands, and the Harpeth River flows on either side. As the name implies, Narrows of the Harpeth is a small sliver of land wedged in between two sections of the river that are joined by a sharp bend. The overlook rises about 200 feet above the river, offering a panoramic view across miles of rolling hills, forests, and wetlands.

The absence of trees at the edge of the bluff’s highest point provides an unobstructed view of the scenery below.

view of the Harpeth River from the edge of the overlook

This trail was more crowded than the one to Hidden Lake, so I’d recommend going early if you’re interested in making this journey. The bluff faces east, so I’m certain that the overlook would provide a stunning spot to watch a sunrise on a clear day.

Overall, we thoroughly enjoyed our afternoon at Harpeth River State Park. Both of the trails that we hiked offer quick access to beautiful and unique scenery, without requiring much effort. We encountered hikers of all ages and apparent skill levels, and everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there, soaking up the afternoon sunshine during  a much needed break from the rain.

Up next for me: a St. Patrick’s Day weekend overnight hike at Red River Gorge in eastern Kentucky with one of my closest friends. This one’s been on my adventure bucket list for a while, and although it’s an intimidating hike (with some alleged rock climbing), I can’t wait to get out there.

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2018: Resolving To Explore More

New Year’s resolutions.

I cringe at the thought of how many resolutions I’ve made, to be healthier or happier or somehow “better” than I was in the previous year. My head and heart seem to be in the right place in January, but then I abandon my resolution long before the year is up or any goal is achieved. Honestly, I can’t think of a single resolution I’ve kept, so why should I expect this year be any different?

Looking back, I think I’ve failed at New Year’s resolutions so many times before because I’ve just been bad at making them. I know that sounds like a weak excuse, but hear me out. I’ve learned that making a resolution is the starting point, and achieving a resolution requires… well, resolve. And a damn good plan. Most importantly, it takes passion, and committing not only to what you want to achieve, but why you want to achieve it. In the past, I’ve failed to accomplish my resolutions because either a) I didn’t make adequate plans to support them, or b) I simply wasn’t passionate about what I was pursuing and made an empty promise for the sake of fulfilling the pervasive “new year, new you” obligation.

This brings me to my resolution for 2018: Explore More. That’s what I’m calling it, anyways. To provide a little background on where this is coming from, in 2017, I was lucky enough to experience some of the very best wilderness that our country has to offer, for the first time. Seriously, whoever dubbed the National Park Service as “America’s Best Idea” was very right. From the Denali backcountry of Alaska to the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia (and quite a bit in between), 2017 inspired me to pursue my passion for exploring in a way I never have before: with intention.

Hiking the Mount Healy Overlook Trail in Denali National Park, Alaska. June, 2017

So, here we are in 2018, and I’m going ALL IN on my New Year’s resolution. As a tribute to my many unprecedented adventures into the wild in 2017, I’m committing to taking a new hike every month, throughout 2018. Whether it’s a new hike close to home or a new hike on the other side of the world, my goal is to add at least twelve totally new hikes to my life in 2018, but it’s not just about quantity. To be clear, I accept the fact that many of the hikes I take this year will seem easy and small in comparison to 2017’s hike through the Grand Canyon. However, I’m not interested in pursuing exclusively strenuous or reputable hikes.

embracing the sunrise at Grand Canyon National Park, a magnificent 2-day detour on an unforgettable best friends’ road trip from LA to Dallas. September, 2017

Yes, I love a good challenge and have some extremely difficult and remote hikes on my bucket list, but I’m also seeking diversity. I won’t pass up a gorgeous hike just because the internet calls it “easy” or because it’s accessible to the masses. As a fairly average hiker with big ambitions, I’m approaching 2018 with a “the world is my oyster” mentality. I will go forth and experience this world for myself, instead of relying on others to tell me what is and isn’t worth my time.

I’m #blessed to live in Nashville, TN, a short drive from an abundance of great hikes. This includes a couple of local favorites (Mossy Ridge Trail at Percy Warner Park and Ganier Ridge at Rador Lake) that are actually within the city limits.

Radnor Lake State Natural Area: Nashville, Tennessee. December, 2017

While I love these trails and will surely hike  them multiple times in 2018, I want to focus this resolution on new experiences, so here we go.

It’s already February, so I’m late to start the blog, but I actually haven’t cheated on my monthly commitment to new hikes. I took an incredible 9-mile hike at Virgin Falls last month (my longest and toughest solo hike to date), pictured below. If you’re into terrible puns, consider this my *virgin* voyage into 2018. I couldn’t help myself on that one, but will try to keep the puns to a minimum moving forward.

Virgin Falls State Natural Area in Tennessee. January, 2018

I am sincerely and deeply excited about the adventures to come in 2018, and if you’re reading this, you’re probably someone who’s also invested in my journey (I see you, mom).

As a toast to 2017, and to the hikes and humans that inspire me, please see the photos below and understand that these places and these people are my passion, my inspiration, and my reason for FINALLY committing to a resolution in 2018. Cheers!

hiking the remote and challenging (and insanely beautiful) Harding Icefield Trail at Kenai Fjords National Park in Alaska. June, 2017

Old Rag Mountain: one of America’s most iconic hikes, and a savage rock scramble. Shenandoah National Park, Virginia. July, 2017

an urban hike at Laurel Canyon in the Hollywood Hills, where we happened to meet a fellow hiker named Miley Cyrus (OMG) March, 2017

As a wise and fictional character once said, “That’s all I have to say about that”.