This is a story about a hike that almost didn’t happen. My friend, Megan, and I travelled to southern Utah on our way to the north rim of the Grand Canyon, and we passed through Zion National Park. We planned to spend a day or two at Zion, but due to so many factors (mostly COVID, but also toxic bacteria in Virgin River and trail closures due to rock slides), we didn’t expect to do much more than pass through on our way to hike the most remote and difficult trail in the Grand Canyon (more to come on that in my next post). I can’t even remember which trail we’d planned to hike at Zion after our options became so involuntarily limited in the days leading up to our trip, but we were excited nonetheless. Zion National Park is iconic and gorgeous, and even when the must-do trails for first time visitors aren’t an option, I’m sure every hike in this park promises breathtaking views.
Angel’s Landing (center) as viewed from the trailhead
After entering the park, we boarded the shuttle to the now forgotten trail that we intended to hike. If you’re planning to visit Zion, put some advance research into how the shuttle system works, because tickets are limited by design, to protect the park’s fragile ecosystem (always) and to maintain COVID safety protocol (currently). While we were on the shuttle, we overheard someone seated behind us talking about their hike to the top of Angel’s Landing the previous day. This caught our attention, because we thought that the upper portion of this trail was closed due to COVID, based on the park’s website and AllTrails. Angel’s Landing is the most famous trail among countless incredible hiking options at Zion National Park and considered by many to be one of the very best hikes in America. However, climbing the upper section of this trail requires holding onto chains for support while traversing treacherously exposed sections of rocky terrain, hundreds of feet above the bottom of the canyon. Needless to say, social distancing isn’t an option and there’s simply no way to climb to the top without touching the same chains that hundreds of other hands have also recently touched.
After admitting to eavesdropping, Megan and I learned from the other bus passenger that the trail had just reopened a few days earlier and that the park intentionally avoided publicizing the news in hopes that foot traffic on this popular trail would remain light. Angel’s Landing should be on every thrill-seeking hiker’s bucket list, and 2020 has provided resounding evidence that life doesn’t guarantee or owe us anything. After a brief discussion and very little hesitation, Megan and I decided that we could not turn down the opportunity to hike this iconic trail, despite the risks. I’ve been careful and deferential about COVID protocols throughout this pandemic, but honestly, I followed my heart to the top of Angel’s Landing, with hand sanitizer and a mask in tow, and I have absolutely no regrets.
As a native of the Deep South, I’m highly superstitious, not just a little stitious (shoutout to my fellow fans of The Office), and I believe that my lucky cactus shirt played a crucial role in making this hike possible.
Bottom to top, this hike packs in magnificent views. There isn’t a single section of this trail that won’t make your Instagram followers drool with envy, but this hike (and pretty much every other hike) delivers significantly more value than attention on social media. It’s an experience, and one so unique that photos and videos can’t adequately document the journey to the top of this monolith. The impact of this hike goes so far beyond visual appeal, and as vivid as the views will remain in my memory, the emotions and the adrenaline rush are what I’ll always value most from this epic adventure.
The five-mile (roundtrip) hike to the top of Angel’s Landing begins at the Grotto trailhead, located across the road from shuttle stop 6. Before embarking on this journey, hikers can and should take advantage of the bathroom facilities and water station near the shuttle stop. From the trailhead, this hike follows a paved trail with a steady but moderate incline for about a mile on the approach to the first set of switchbacks. This is where the trail really begins to climb at a steeper grade, offering sweeping views of the valley below. After the first set of switchbacks, the trail flattens for about half a mile and moves in a straight line along a creek that flows through a narrow gap between towering red rock walls. After about a mile and a half of hiking, we reached the bottom of a brutally steep set of 21 switchbacks known as Walter’s Wiggles. The Wiggles are affectionately named after Zion National Park’s first superintendent, Walter Ruesch, who built these switchbacks into the side of the mountain in 1926.
Megan and I didn’t take any photos on the Wiggles because we were so focused on the climb, but here’s a photo from the first set of switchbacks. The trail was steep, but the views were spectacular.
From an endurance standpoint, the Wiggles are arguably the most challenging part of this hike, but overall, the most difficult part of the journey doesn’t begin until you reach the chains. At the top of the Wiggles, there’s a beautiful overlook (and “emergency-only” toilets, whatever that means), and the route along the chains to the summit of Angel’s Landing finally comes into view. Many hikers choose not to continue beyond the overlook, as this final section certainly isn’t for everyone. It’s an intimidating sight, and in practice, this climb is every bit as steep and perilous as it looks. The trail is usually too narrow to accommodate two-way traffic, which can be problematic due to the volume of hikers you’re sure to encounter here, even during a global pandemic. One slip or misstep could send you, and potentially others around you, tumbling to a certain death at the bottom of the canyon. We hiked this trail at 9 AM on a Tuesday in late September, when the park allegedly wasn’t advertising that the upper section of the trail had reopened, and the place was still dangerously crowded. Stopping to let someone approaching from the opposite direction pass just isn’t an option along many of the climb’s narrow stretches, so it’s crucial to stay aware of your surroundings and be considerate of other hikers. When the trail is busy, expect to spend most of your time on this part of the hike waiting on others.
After reaching the top, it’s easy to see what all the fuss is about. The stunning 360 degree views from the summit of Angel’s Landing certainly justify the heart-pounding anxiety of getting there. Many words come to mind that could describe how I felt when we finally reached the top, but the one that resonates the most is triumphant. Also, the summit is shockingly flat and spacious compared to the trail, so there’s plenty of room to socially distance yourself from the swarms of other hikers. We lingered for a while, taking photos from every angle despite knowing that we’d never really be able to capture this place accurately and comprehensively enough to demonstrate its immense beauty.
The views from the top of Angel’s Landing are truly (forgive the pun, I’m completely shameless) heavenly.
On the descent, we passed even more hikers than we’d seen on the journey to the top. This made me feel uneasy, not necessarily because of COVID, but because some of the hikers we passed were behaving recklessly and with little concern for the potential impact of their actions on others. While I’d recommend this hike to anyone (anyone without a fear of heights, that is) visiting Zion National Park, I’d advise starting earlier than we did or going later in the afternoon. Hopefully, the park will eventually implement a permit system to limit the risk of accidents due to overcrowding on this trail. Reportedly, at least 15 people have fallen to their deaths while hiking at Angel’s Landing, but there’s no way to know if any of those accidents could have been prevented by limiting the number of hikers allowed on the trail per day. Additionally, this unique and fragile landscape would surely benefit from lighter and more precisely managed foot traffic. Regardless, I’m grateful for chatty strangers on buses and spontaneous friends who share my appetite for adventure.
The upper section of the trail includes about half a mile of this, and it’s absolutely worth the anxiety.
best seat in the house
BONUS: If y’all have been following along, you know I love a short, easy sunset hike. On the evening before our epic ascent to the top of Angel’s Landing, Megan and I squeezed in a stunning hike along the Zion Canyon Overlook Trail. It’s only a mile (roundtrip) and absolutely manageable for hikers of all ages and skill levels. The views from the overlook are magnificent, and there’s no shuttle pass required for this hike. Parking at the trailhead is very limited, so you’ll likely have to park on the side of the road and walk a quarter of a mile or so to the trailhead. However, the views are unbelievable, especially considering the minimal amount of effort required to reach the overlook.
Megan, enjoying the final moments of a glorious sunset from the Zion Canyon Overlook
After my husband and I planned a destination wedding in Telluride, Colorado in 2019, we decided to defer our honeymoon to 2020. We both had so much going on in 2019, personally and professionally, aside from planning a wedding. The year felt like an emotional rollercoaster with no time to spare for the honeymoon we wanted. 2020 was supposed to be a year of stability and settling into our happily normal lives as newlyweds. In hindsight, it sounds so naive, right? To be fair, the inconvenience of planning and cancelling two honeymoons in 2020 cannot compare to the struggles of brides who’ve had to postpone or significantly alter wedding plans this year. After aborted plans to travel to New Zealand in May, and then the Hawaiian island of Kauai in August, we made a third and final attempt to have a honeymoon in 2020 and decided to travel to Jackson, Wyoming. Neither of us had been before, and while it wasn’t the trip we thought we’d be taking for our honeymoon, we were grateful for the opportunity to go and excited to explore this place that’s touted as one of the most beautiful destinations in America.
Andy and I on the summit of Table Mountain (11,106 ft) in Grand Teton National Park
Located in a valley immediately south of Grand Teton National Park, Jackson provides immediate access to an endless array of hiking adventures against a sprawling and rugged mountain backdrop. The road that leads into the park from Jackson actually continues north into Yellowstone National Park as well. Admission to each park costs $35 per car (assuming up to four passengers per car) and covers unlimited travel into and out of the park for seven consecutive days. However, an annual National Parks pass costs $80 and grants pass holders admission to more than 100 federally managed recreation areas, including all National Parks. The annual pass does not cover camping permits or shuttle fees, but it’s an incredibly sensible purchase for anyone interested in exploring America’s public lands.
Despite reviewing multiple hiking resources (AllTrails, travel blogs, local guides, etc.), narrowing down our options in the Tetons and Yellowstone was so difficult due to the immense quantity and variety of attractive trails. I’d hike any of the four trails that we explored again, but for each of them, there are about a dozen others that appeared to be just as gorgeous and rewarding. As is the case in most National Parks, popular trails receive very heavy foot traffic, so I’d definitely recommend visiting in the off season or on a week day, and getting an early start regardless of when you visit. If you have the opportunity to speak to a local, ask for their recommendations. We received several recommendations for trails we hadn’t uncovered through our own research from our Airbnb host and from a friend’s sister who lives in the area. Utilize your social media network as well. Most people will gladly share their experiences and provide insightful tips, even if they don’t know you. Asking a stranger for advice is only creepy if you act like a creep.
We hiked three trails in Grand Teton National Park and one in Yellowstone. Although Yellowstone is seven times larger than its neighbor to the south, Grand Teton National Park is a more sensible option for day hikes. Yellowstone is vast and spread out, and a two-hour drive separates the park’s southern boundary from Jackson, WY. Even after entering Yellowstone from the southern road, visitors still have to travel for miles and miles before reaching any trails that could reasonably be hiked within a day, considering route lengths and the roundtrip travel time from Jackson. During our trip, all lodges and most campgrounds in both parks were closed or operating at very limited capacity due to COVID-19. With all of this in mind, we didn’t have many viable hiking options at Yellowstone. Based on our very limited time in both places, we both preferred our hikes in Grand Teton National Park over the one in Yellowstone. However, I feel like we barely scratched the surface of areas to explore in both parks and hope to see much more of both in the future.
BONUS: If you visit the Tetons in the summer and want to try an outdoor activity that isn’t hiking, I highly recommend renting a kayak or canoe from the Coulter Bay Marina on Jackson Lake. We only had a couple of hours to spend on the lake before heading to the airport, but in hindsight, we wish we’d dedicated an entire day to exploring this massive and beautiful lake beneath the mountains.
Taggart Lake and Bradley Lake Loop
This mild six-mile loop begins at the Taggart Lake trailhead and offers stunning views of the Tetons for less effort than most of the park’s trails. Because of this, the trail receives very heavy foot traffic, especially the Taggart Lake section. Most visitors only hike the Taggart Lake loop (about four miles) and omit the extension that includes trail to Bradley Lake. With little else to do and plenty of daylight, we hiked the full six miles, although I admit that the best part of the hike was the section along Taggart Lake. The trail to Bradley Lake doesn’t provide access to the lakeshore, only shrouded glimpses of the lake through the trees along a ridge above the lake. Beyond the loop, there’s an option to hike to Garnet Canyon, and this section of the trail may provides better access to Bradley Lake. We stayed on the loop, knowing we’d hike into Garnet Canyon on another trail a couple of days later.
The trail weaves in and out of a dense forest, and magnificent views of the Tetons dominate the skyline along the open sections. There’s only about 750 feet of elevation gain, and most of that occurs on the Bradley Lake section. At Taggart Lake, we enjoyed absolutely majestic vistas of the Tetons rising above this sprawling lake. The trail runs along the edge of the lake for almost half a mile and offers many spots where hikers can step off the trail to explore the shoreline and experience uninterrupted mountain views, steps away from the congestion of other hikers along the trail.
Grand Teton (center) towering over Taggart Lake, amid hazy conditions due to the wildfires west of the Tetons during our visit
This was our first of our three hikes in Grand Teton National Park, and it turned out to be the easiest as well. We almost didn’t hike this trail at all, but I’m so glad that we did. Initially, we’d planned to hike the Cascade Canyon Trail, accessible via the Jenny Lake area in the park. However, we abandoned these plans after seeing swarms of people along the access trail. Jenny Lake is gorgeous, and Cascade Canyon is supposed to be one of the most beautiful hiking trails in the park, but we felt so discouraged by the masses we encountered here (at 9:00 AM on a Thursday, by the way) that we left the Jenny Lake area and didn’t go back during our trip. If you’re considering hiking here, especially during the peak summer season, 9:00 AM isn’t an early enough start time, regardless of the length of your planned hike. However, this created an opportunity to explore the Taggart Lake and Bradley Lake Loop, and this proved to be a less crowded option with much better views than we expected.
Bradley Lake, with Teewinot Mountain (12,166 ft) visible in the background, as viewed from the trail
Delta Lake via the Amphitheater Trail
When we asked the owner of the Airbnb rental where we stayed on our trip to Jackson Hole for hiking recommendations, she told us, without hesitation, that Delta Lake via the Amphitheater Trail was her favorite hike in the Tetons. With an endorsement like that, we knew we had to check it out for ourselves. This out-and-back hike covers eight miles roundtrip and about 2,300 feet of elevation gain. The Lupine Meadows Trailhead provides access to several popular hiking trails, so unless you arrive early (before 8:00 AM), plan on adding some additional distance to your eight-mile hike because you’ll have to park along the dirt road that leads to the small unpaved parking lot. Of all the trails we hiked, this one was the busiest. We started early enough to avoid heavy foot traffic on the way up to Delta Lake, but there was rarely a moment on the way down when other hikers weren’t within view.
views from the Lupine Meadows Trailhead at Grand Teton National Park
The trail climbs steadily over the first three miles, mercifully distributing the elevation gain relatively evenly over a series of switchbacks. The trail is wide and easy to follow, and the views become more and more expansive along the ascent. After about 3.2 miles of moderate hiking, a cairn marks the spot where hikers headed to Delta Lake exit the maintained trail and begin a primitive route up through Glacier Gulch and over a series of boulder fields. Although this final mile up to Delta Lake isn’t maintained by the park, there’s a clear route and a few cairns that make it easier to navigate through the boulders. This route is difficult and very steep, ascending nearly 900 feet in less than a mile. There’s very little shade, so if you hike this trail in August like we did, I highly recommend sunscreen.
Delta Lake isn’t visible until you climb the final stretch of trail and emerge through a few trees and right onto the lake’s rocky shoreline. This brilliant turquoise lake lies immediately below Grand Teton, and it’s one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I’ve seen on any hike. Photos don’t accurately capture the magnitude of the scenery around this alpine lake. Nestled in a drainage basin at 9,000 feet, Delta Lake’s still transparent waters reflect images of the surrounding massive granite monoliths. The rocky shoreline offers plenty of space for hikers to spread out and enjoy the scenery around them. A few brave souls swam in the lake, but even in the summer heat, that water felt way too cold for comfort for this hiker from the Deep South. Regardless, we felt perfectly content to sit on a rock at the lake’s edge and enjoy a leisurely lunch before returning to the trailhead.
Grand Teton’s famous shark fin profile rises above the turquoise waters of Delta Lake
Table Mountain
During the weeks leading up to our trip to Jackson Hole, we seriously considered a summit hike to the top of Middle Teton, the least technical of the thee mountains that the range is named for. Although there’s no technical climbing involved, Middle Teton is a massive undertaking, with 13 miles of hiking and more than 6,000 feet of elevation gain, plus class 3 and 4 scrambling near the summit. After arriving in Jackson and seeing this beast in person, we reluctantly decided pick another mountain. I rarely let intimidation prevent me from any hike, and I’m sure we’d have been fine and successful if we’d tried to climb Middle Teton. However, we just didn’t feel compelled to climb a mountain like this one on our honeymoon. Instead, we followed the recommendation of a local and opted for Table Mountain, which is no small feat at 11,106 feet, but a milder alternative to Middle Teton.
Teton peaks (from left) as viewed form the summit of Table Mountain: Mount Owen (12,928 ft), Grand Teton (13,776 ft), Middle Teton (12,806 ft), South Teton (12,514 ft)
The hike to the summit of Table Mountain begins outside of Grand Teton National Park, and the peak lies on the park’s western boundary. Perhaps because the trail isn’t in the national park, or perhaps due to its difficulty, this trail doesn’t receive nearly as much foot traffic as the others we hiked. We ascended via the four-mile Face Trail and descended on the seven-mile Huckleberry Trail. The two trailheads are only a five-minute walk away from each other, and most people who climb this mountain do so by following the same loop that we took. With 4,000 feet of elevation gain over four miles, the Face Trail definitely presents a challenge. Factor in the altitude and the smoky conditions we hiked in, as haze from the wildfires many miles west of us permeated the air in the Tetons, and this trail felt entirely brutal. It felt only slightly less difficult than the fourteener hikes I’ve done in Colorado. For all of its adversity, the scenery is undeniably gorgeous. The hazy air obscured views of distant mountains, but we could see those that were within a few miles of us, and after we passed the tree line, less than a mile from the summit, we were surrounded on all sides by incredible mountain vistas.
the final push, about 300 vertical feet below the summit of Table Mountain
The final push to the summit includes a short class 1 or 2 scramble with some exposure, but the route is straightforward and obvious. As the name suggests, the summit of Table Mountain is flat and spacious, and it provides a truly epic panoramic view of the three Teton peaks: Grand, Middle, and South. The views were insanely gorgeous, but I can’t even imagine how much better they’d be on a clear day. We could have stayed up there all day and never tired of the views, but the wind was howling and thoughts of cheeseburgers and beer started to creep in, so we began the seven-mile return trek along the Huckleberry Trail. We didn’t expect the views to be even prettier along this trail than they were on the way up via the Face Trail, but we were shocked by the endless sea of colorful wildflowers surrounded by mountain vistas that we encountered throughout the descent. Unlike the Face Trail, the Huckleberry Trail offered views of Table Mountain from afar, and it felt really satisfying to look back at the peak we’d just climbed.
The views on the descent from the summit of Table Mountain, along the Huckleberry Trail, were magnificent. The peak shaped like a shark’s fin in this photo is Grand Teton, and the flat summit to the left of it in the foreground is Table Mountain. The terrain on Table Mountain looks deceptively easy from this vantage point.
About three miles from our end point, the vegetation thickened around the trail, and we started hiking through frequent patches of tall grass and shrubbery, often several feet high on either side of the trail. Many of the bushes were covered in bright berries, and we clearly weren’t the only ones in the area who noticed them. There was fresh and ample evidence of recent bear activity along this part of the trail, lying in little piles that we had to step over as we hiked. We saw dozens of bear sized interruptions in the shrubbery, the beginnings of paths clearly formed when these locals wandered off the trail in search of more fruit-filled bushes or water from the nearby creek. We hiked through these conditions for two and a half miles, feeling somewhat anxious considering how limited our visibility was because of the dense vegetation around us. The closer we became to the trailhead, the more surprised I felt that we hadn’t seen a bear. I’d accepted the fact that they were playing mind games with us, dropping bombs in our path and then retreating into the brush to mock us as we carefully moved past them without knowing they were watching.
And then, as if it’d been waiting on us the whole time, a Black Bear wandered out onto the trail about thirty or so feet in front of us, when we were only half a mile from the end of our eleven-mile hike. I spoke, to alert my husband who was hiking behind me, and the bear looked up and slowly started moving toward us. The bear wasn’t displaying any signs of aggression, but likely just investigating the noise it’d heard when we approached along the trail. Bears are curious creatures with poor vision, so it’s best to speak loudly when a bear notices you, so that it acknowledges you and differentiates your human voice from the natural sounds its prey may make. The bear was too close for me to feel comfortable whipping out my phone for a photo, or do anything besides recall the tenets bear safety protocol. We did what we were supposed to do, without using our bear spray, and the bear retreated into the woods on its own after only a minute or two. We safely made it back to our car, relieved and grateful for an exciting finale to one of the most incredible hikes I’ve ever taken.
abundant wildflower views along the Huckleberry Trail, and Table Mountain (center)
Fairy Falls and Grand Prismatic Hot Spring Overlook
As I’ve mentioned earlier, Yellowstone National Park isn’t very close to Jackson Hole. However, the drive up through the Tetons and into the park isn’t exactly boring. The views are immaculate, so the time flies by quickly. Be prepared for traffic jams caused by wild moose or bears on the side of the road, which will add time to your commute even if the animals have disappeared by the time that you emerge from the congestion. There’s no way to know for sure, but we think we experienced this kind of traffic about five times on our six-hour roundtrip journey to and from the Fairy Falls trailhead, even though we only saw one moose along the side of the road.
Yours won’t be the only car in the parking lot at the Fairy Falls trailhead, as this trailhead also provides access to the Grand Prismatic Spring overlook, one of the most popular spots in the park. The main road offers immediate access to this massive hot spring’s steamy edges, but even from afar, we could see throngs of visitors along the boundaries of this intensely colorful hot spring. Our overlook wasn’t lonely but definitely wasn’t as crowded as the boardwalk that leads to hot spring. I haven’t been to the edge of Grand Prismatic Spring, but I’m telling you now, the views from above are better than the ones you’d find along the boardwalk. On our way back to the car, a woman in the parking lot asked me about the overlook, and after I showed her a photo I’d taken, she admitted that she should have skipped the boardwalk trail to Grand Prismatic Spring and only hiked the overlook trail.
Grand Prismatic Hot Spring, as viewed from the overlook on the trail to Fairy Falls
Beyond the overlook, the trail continues along a dirt road before veering off into an evergreen forest along the approach to Fairy Falls. The hike to and from Fairy Falls includes five total miles and less than three hundred feet of elevation gain, making this the easiest of all our hikes on this vacation. We passed through places where the forest had burned and started to regrow, revealing expansive views of the wide open landscape around us. and the thousands of yellow wildflowers that covered the forest floor. A high granite cliff rose above us in the distance on the left, and the trail meandered increasingly closer to this cliff wall as we hiked towards Fairy Falls.
Fairy Falls, an absolutely gorgeous 200 ft waterfall (I couldn’t capture the whole thing on my iPhone) in Yellowstone National Park
The sound of falling water grew louder and the trees became more sparse as we approached a clearing, nestled below the granite cliff. As we entered the clearing, Fairy Falls suddenly presented itself, cascading down from the top of the cliff, 200 feet above us. The water formed a gorgeous pool at the bottom of the falls and then trickled over rocks and fallen trees as it made its way down into the meadow beyond the clearing. I’ve seen dozens of waterfalls in Tennessee. You can hardly throw a rock in this state without hitting water, but they never cease to amaze me. The constant motion of the water and the ever changing flow make it impossible to really see the same waterfall twice. As gorgeous as Fairy Falls looked in the middle of summer, I’m sure it’s even more impressive in spring when the flow is heavier or in winter when it’s covered in ice and snow. Regardless, the trail to Fairy Falls is absolutely worth the minimal effort that this hike requires and an amazing destination in Yellowstone National Park that’s much more secluded than the attractions along the park’s main loop.
Here’s a rare photo of a wild animal that didn’t require any zoom. We encountered this local immediately beside the trail, about a mile into our hike to Delta Lake via the Lupine Meadows trailhead.
It took me a while to settle into the lifestyle, but time has taught me to appreciate the perks of working from home. I’ve had to establish some boundaries between my work life and my home life, now that they now exist under the same roof, but I’m grateful for the flexibility that the present circumstances have added to my daily routine. In a post-COVID world, I’ll have the freedom to travel to and work from anywhere with a WiFi connection, and I’m genuinely excited about the endless possibilities that this presents for me. Until then, I’m taking advantage of opportunities to travel domestically when I can safely do so, knowing that I can work remotely as much as I need to while I’m away from my new office, which doubles as my dining room table.
Looking Glass Rock, high above the hazy emerald waves of the Appalachian Mountains
By packing my MacBook and blending in a couple of days of working remotely, I recently spent a week in the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina while only taking two days of actual vacation time. My parents had planned a trip to Banff, but when COVID derailed those plans, they changed their destination to Waynesville, NC (reasonably drivable from my hometown in Mississippi) and invited my husband, brother, sister-in-law, and me to stay with them in a lakeside cabin nestled halfway between Asheville and Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
Naturally, I spent every spare moment exploring the area’s abundant wild spaces. Waynesville, NC offers quick access to hundreds of miles of hiking trails in Great Smoky Mountains National Park and Pisgah National Forest, two expansive Appalachian wildernesses that host millions of visitors every year. Although the vast majority of those visitors stick to scenic drives along the parkways and paved trails to crowded waterfalls and hazy mountain overlooks, the hiking options are endless in number and variety for those who want to get their boots dirty. I hiked three trails, each one gorgeous, unique, and very worthwhile.
Smoky Mountain views from Charlie’s Bunion on the Appalachian Trail
Looking Glass Rock
My husband’s parents have spent a significant amount of time in this region, and they recommended hiking to the top of Looking Glass Rock in Pisgah National Forest. I thought it sounded appealing, but I was already struggling to narrow down my list of many incredible hiking options in the area and didn’t commit to any specific trails before our trip. While driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway with my family on our first day in North Carolina, we stopped at a scenic roadside overlook. Amid the velvety sea of evergreen that covers the Appalachian Mountains, I noticed a massive, exposed section of smooth rock, rising above its forested surroundings like a silver buoy among ocean waves. A sign at the overlook informed me that this enchanting anomaly was Looking Glass Rock, and I instantly decided to hike to the top of it the following day.
Looking Glass Rock, as viewed from an overlook along the Blue Ridge Parkway
My husband, Andy, and I drove along a winding road surrounded by the lush green canopy of Pisgah National Forest before arriving at the trailhead. From Waynesville, the drive to the trailhead takes about an hour via Highway 276. I lost cell service many miles before the trailhead, and we passed a tiny handful of scattered facilities on the outskirts of Waynesville before leaving civilization entirely behind us and entering a remote and sprawling area within Pisgah National Forest. The weather was rainy, but we saw many other cars along the road and parked in clusters around the dozens of trailheads accessible from this scenic highway.
Because of morning rain, Andy and I started our hike early in the afternoon. After arriving at the trailhead during a beak between showers, we eagerly started moving up the trail, only to encounter a torrential downpour a few minutes later. We retreated to the car to wait for the weather to pass. In late summer months, sporadic afternoon showers occur frequently in Tennessee and North Carolina. As Nashville residents, we weren’t surprised by the pop-up storm and knew it’d pass quickly. It did, although it left a very muddy trail in its wake. However, the rain likely deterred many hikers from this popular trail, and we were surprised by the relatively light foot traffic on a Sunday afternoon.
The trail climbs about 1,700 feet over three miles from the trailhead to the summit of Looking Glass Rock. The elevation gain is consistently dispersed across numerous thoughtfully placed switchbacks, which made this hike much less challenging than it appeared to be when viewed from the overlook along the Blue Ridge Parkway. However, the mud complicated the journey, as it tends to do, so we weren’t able to move quickly as we’d have been able to on a dry trail. We encountered more scattered showers on the way to the top, but as soon as we emerged from the thick shroud of the forest and onto the exposed surface of the summit, the rain stopped and we encountered the most magnificent view of the Appalachian Mountains that I’ve ever seen.
hazy views from Looking Glass Rock as a storm moves across the mountains
The views along the way to the top of Looking Glass Rock, although pretty and peaceful, don’t include any expansive overlooks or standout features. Andy and I thoroughly enjoyed the trail, which moves through a forest floor blanketed with an endless sea of ferns and flowering mountain laurels. This hike, however, indisputably culminates at the top of Looking Glass Rock. The panoramic mountain views are entirely shrouded until they’re directly in front of you, and the sprawling summit can accommodate a decent crowd without feeling crowded. There’s no definitive edge, so the drop-off can be really deceptive if you’re not paying attention, due to the smooth and wavy texture of the rock. Regardless, this place is absolutely special and iconic among Appalachian day hikes.
Max Patch
Located about an hour’s drive north of Waynesville and barely west of the border between Tennessee and North Carolina, Max Patch is a grassy bald that provides stunning 360 degree views of the surrounding mountain scenery. Driving to the trailhead requires a lengthy, slow ascent along a bumpy gravel road that would be difficult to manage without a 4WD vehicle, although we did see a couple of small cars in the parking lot. There’s no bathroom at the trailhead, and cell service is weak at best. Max Patch lies on the Appalachian Trail, and many thru and section hikers pass through this area on a daily basis. Camping is permitted on the summit of Max Patch as well, but it’s become controversial in recent years. The area receives heavy foot traffic because the short trail to the top requires minimal effort to access truly magnificent and expansive views, but there’s no permit system in place to regulate camping and no ranger presence to enforce leave-no-trace principles. Sadly, Max Patch endures some abuse from careless visitors, so please be aware of your human footprint when you visit and practice responsible outdoor ethics.
Max Patch was covered in fluffy white wildflowers when we hiked here in late July.
My parents and I hiked to the summit via a 1.5 mile loop with modest elevation gain. The trail was maintained well and easy to follow, and the views from the top extend for miles and miles in every direction, across the rugged peaks and valleys of Tennessee and North Carolina. We hiked clockwise and reached the summit of Max Patch after only 0.6 miles of hiking. After taking some time to enjoy the views and the cool breeze on a summer day, we descended via the Appalachian Trail and returned to the parking lot .
My parents aren’t avid hikers, but they thoroughly enjoyed this short, scenic expedition. Nothing could have adequately prepared us for the views from the top, and I understand why so many people choose to visit this place. We visited during the day, but I’m sure the views are incredible at sunrise and sunset, which explains Max Patch’s popularity as a camping destination. We visited on a weekday, and I’d advise others to do the same to avoid the crowds.
Aren’t my parents cute? We loved the time outside with each other as much as we loved the views.
Charlie’s Bunion via the Appalachian Trail
I began my hike to Charlie’s Bunion at Newfound Gap, one of the most popular (and crowded) overlooks in the Smokies. To be honest, I felt really discouraged at the trailhead. I knew that this trail was popular, but I thought that hiking it on a Tuesday morning would mitigate the crowds. I was wrong. The views from Newfound Gap are absolutely incredible, so this easily accessible overlook draws flocks of tourists. I thought about leaving and choosing a more obscure trail, but I haven’t done much hiking in Great Smoky Mountains National Park and don’t know about many trails besides the popular ones. The region is just far enough from Nashville to be out of reach for a day trip, and I regret to admit that I’ve never made it a priority to plan an overnight hiking trip in the Smokies.
Despite the crowds, something about hiking the relatively minuscule four-mile section of the Appalachian Trail between Newfound Gap and Charlie’s Bunion captivated me. This segment of the AT runs along the state line between Tennessee and North Carolina, and the views from Charlie’s Bunion are widely considered to be among the very best in the Smokies. The views along the way to Charlie’s Bunion are dominated by ferns, exposed roots, and a canopy of greenery. There aren’t any expansive vistas, but the trail is entirely shaded, which can’t be taken for granted in the sweltering heat of late summer months.
Mossy Rocks and dense forest views dominate the section of the Appalachian Trail to Charlie’s Bunion.
The trail ascends roughly 1,700 feet over four miles on the approach to Charlie’s Bunion, and the route is easily discernible every step of the way. Upon reaching the overlook at Charlie’s Bunion, I felt immensely humbled by the views around me that were almost entirely obscured throughout my hike. Charlie’s Bunion actually lies beyond the overlook and requires an airy scramble. I managed to climb out to the bunion safely, but I’ll admit that my heart was pounding uncontrollably throughout the climb, as I stared into the abyss of drop-offs several hundred feet high on three sides of this narrow, uneven outcropping. I was lucky enough to encounter another hiker who offered to take photos from the safety of the overlook, and none of the other dozen or so hikers I saw during my time at Charlie’s Bunion actually climbed out onto the bunion.
Charlie’s Bunion, as viewed from the edge of the overlook
There’s a smaller upper overlook about fifty or sixty feet above Charlie’s Bunion, and it’s accessible via a short spur trail just past the initial turn-off to the main overlook. There’s also the option to climb up directly from the main overlook. I wouldn’t have realized that this option existed unless I’d seen someone else do it when I first arrived at Charlie’s Bunion. I followed this climber’s route, and the short (although entirely vertical) ascent somehow felt less intimidating than the climb out onto the bunion. The views from the upper overlook are gorgeous, but not any better than the views from the main overlook. The only benefit of the upper overlook is privacy. There’s only enough space to accommodate four or five people due to dense vegetation.
As ominous-looking storm clouds rolled in and darkened the peaks and valleys around me, I left Charlie’s Bunion and backtracked down the Appalachian Trail at a quick pace. I returned to the parking lot at Newfound Gap minutes before the rain started. Roundtrip, I completed this eight-mile hike in a little over four hours, including time for short water breaks and roughly thirty minutes at Charlie’s Bunion. I didn’t see any snakes or bears on this hike (or at all during this trip), but I crossed paths with another hiker who said he’d seen a black bear about twenty or thirty yards from the trail close to Charlie’s Bunion. Bear sightings are very common in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, so it’s important to remain vigilant and practice bear safety while hiking in this region.
A final thought from Max Patch… Sometimes, it’s tempting to break the rules, but this hike wasn’t one of them.
