rock climbing – Emily Takes a Hike

I always look forward to September with excited anticipation. The month carries my birthday, and more importantly, it triggers the return of my favorite season: football season (roll tide). The only downside of September in the South: the sweltering heat is like a house guest who wears out their welcome after about three days, but three months later, they’re still around and it’s entirely suffocating. Also, Tennessee’s many spectacular waterfall hikes lose their luster in late summer as the rainfall tapers off and the creek beds dry up. In my humble opinion, September is the least appealing month for hiking in Tennessee, by a landslide. In September of 2018, I climbed the highest mountain Colorado, on my 30th birthday, to fulfill the September chapter of my resolution to hike a new trail at least once a month. Highly recommend. September may the best month for hiking in the Colorado Rockies, because the fall colors start to emerge but it’s too early for snow. In Tennessee, however, choosing a new trail to explore in the September chapter of the second iteration of my New Year’s resolution required some creativity and determination to beat the heat.

Here’s a selfie I took at the massive Buggytop entrance to Lost Cove Cave. The image doesn’t truly capture the size of the entrance, which measures about 100 feet wide and 80 feet high.

So, in September, feeling inspired by my underground hike at Mammoth Cave National Park in August, I decided to explore a cave trail with fewer rules and more risk: Buggytop Trail to Lost Cove Cave. This trail checks a lot of boxes for an ideal late summer hike in Tennessee. Round trip, the out-and-back hike covers roughly four miles of modest terrain. The trail lies entirely beneath the shade of a dense forest and twists along a rocky slope that rises above the gaping mouths of Lost Cove Cave.

Candidly, the trail itself isn’t as majestic as its neighbors in the brilliantly remote and enigmatic South Cumberland State Park. Buggytop Trail is certainly pleasant, with serene forest views and huge mossy boulders scattered generously across the surrounding landscape. However, the unique appeal of this particular trail, and the feature that makes it stand out among other trails in the area, is Lost Cove Cave. At roughly two miles, the trail splits at an overlook above the small canyon carved over thousands of years by Crow Creek, which flows steadily downward from the mouth of the Buggytop entrance . The fork to the left traverses the cliff’s edge before receding into the forest and towards the Peter Cave entrance to Lost Cove Cave. The path to the right of this overlook leads sharply downward toward the much more popular and visually magnificent Buggytop entrance.

Apparently, this stunning entrance to Lost Cove Cave received its name because the inward curve of the 150-foot cliff wall above resembles the shape of an actual “buggy top”.

One hundred feet across and eighty feet high, the Buggytop entrance to Lost Cove Cave is widely considered to be the most impressive cave entrance in Tennessee. Based on my own experience, which is limited but not entirely superficial (yes, “superficial” is my best attempt at an above-ground hiking pun), this cave entrance rightfully earned its reputation. The cave’s massive threshold, in the middle of an excessively average forest but almost large enough to encompass a football field, is entirely worth the relatively low investment of time and effort. Even on a scorching day in early September, the air surrounding the rugged exterior of the Buggytop cave entrance felt cool and refreshing, and the swift waters of Crow Creek instantly chilled my fingers to the bone. There’s a flat rock shelf extending from cave’s interior at the end of the trail, which provides an ideal setting to stop for lunch or a short reprieve to throw on an extra layer or two before entering the cave.

I encountered a group here as they were pulling on jumpsuits and headlamps and preparing to embark on the ultimate journey through Lost Cove Cave: climbing and crawling from the Buggytop entrance through the cave’s interior depths of darkness and emerging at the Peter Cave entrance. I’d read that this was possible and not entirely dangerous, aside from difficult route finding and the subsequent risk of getting hopelessly lost in the dark. I hadn’t read any reports of bears in the cave, so therefore, not a guaranteed death trap. However, I was hiking alone and had never explored the depths of a cave (I define “depths” as parts further back than where light from the outside reaches) by myself. I carefully considered these factors as I chatted with the group I’d just met at the Buggytop entrance, who quickly offered to let me join their journey through the cave. They’d never explored Lost Cove Cave either, but claimed to have deep cave experience from other adventures.

The sheer size of the Buggytop entrance allows light to flood the expansive open space that lies beyond the threshold. This part of the cave can easily be explored without a supplemental light source, but the passages extending from this room become much more narrow, dark, and treacherous.

Naturally, I accepted this exciting offer to follow a group of strangers into a deep, dark cave in the remote backwoods of Tennessee, with no witnesses or cell phone service around (Sorry, mom). The opportunity to explore further into the cave than I comfortably could have on my own, as a part of a group that appeared to know what they were doing, obscured any sense of stranger danger in that moment. Besides, these people just seemed normal. I’m not excusing my complete disregard for safety and wouldn’t advise anyone to do the same in my position. The increasing weight of second thoughts, along with the very quick realization that my inexperience was forcing this group to move more slowly than they could have without me, prompted me to abort the mission soon after we’d embarked. Guided only by my head lamp, I parted ways with the friendly group of strangers and carefully retraced our route back to the Buggytop entrance of Lost Cove Cave.

As I learned at Mammoth Cave in August, flash photography has an immensely negative impact on the dark ecosystems that exist deep within caves. However, if you’re within sight of natural light and want to capture a cave photo on your phone, work with angles until you find one that reflects light from your headlamp and natural light on an interior wall.

Part of me regrets this cowardly act of delayed responsibility, but another part of me acknowledges that I’ll have plenty of other opportunities to hike and climb through this cave under more appropriate circumstances. After the steep ascent back to the overlook on top of the cave, I hiked the quarter-mile trail over to an obscure third entrance to Lost Cove Cave, but I opted out of completing the very short remaining distance to the Peter Cave entrance. I still had plenty of energy and courage, and I genuinely wanted to see the group of strangers I’d met emerge successfully on the other side. I wanted to ask them about it and learn from their experience so that I’d be better equipped to accomplish this on my own in the future.

The view from the overlook on top of the Buggytop entrance to Lost Cove Cave is much more colorful than the landscape inside the cave directly below.

However, something didn’t feel right about completing the journey between the two entrances above ground when I’d failed to do so underground, even though I had plenty of good reasons for turning back inside the cave. I have no doubt that the group I met made it all the way through to the Peter Cave entrance, and I’m sure they’re all law abiding Sunday School teachers who run marathons to raise money for charity or cancer research when they’re not exploring caves. Their fortitude to attempt to conquer the mile-long route through the dark and complex cave passages, although none in their group had ever done it before, inspired me to do more research on the best approach for this. There’s surprisingly little information available, but in general, it doesn’t seem to be excessively technical or claustrophobic.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed exploring these two cave trails over the past couple of months, and both provide exciting alternatives to escape the oppressive mid-summer temperatures above ground in Tennessee. However, I have a lot to learn about safe and secure navigation through caves before I’ll feel comfortable doing this on my own. It’s definitely an intriguing opportunity, but I think I’ll always prefer the diverse and colorful vistas above ground.

One more photo from inside the magnificent cave entrance, just before beginning my journey with the group I met and leaving the light from outside behind us

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.

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.