vacation – Emily Takes a Hike

November 3, 2020

Appalachian Mountain Trails: Waynesville, North Carolina

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.

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.

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.

May 12, 2020

Appalachian Mountain Trails: Burnsville, North Carolina

President’s Day is a special day when we put our political differences aside to celebrate a universal American joy: a Monday without work. Nobody crushes work-free Mondays like America, and I’m here for it. I’m especially here for it when it presents an opportunity for me to travel without burning vacation days. Andy and I had been talking about hiking in the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina for years, but we never made it a priority. The mountains of North Carolina are just far enough away to make a weekend trip seem like a stretch without taking off a day or two on either side, but we also tend to save our precious PTO days for longer trips to places further away that we don’t have a chance to visit as often. The long weekend presented the perfect conditions for a quick getaway to Burnsville, North Carolina, a remote and sleepy town nestled deep in the Appalachian Mountain wilderness.

Andy and I enjoying views from the summit of Mount Craig, the second highest peak in the eastern United States

Andy and I had both been to North Carolina many times, but we’d only been there together once, and I’d never been to Burnsville or the majestic wilderness areas surrounding the town. Burnsville offers quick access to many gorgeous hiking trails and a wide array of other outdoor activities in the middle of a seemingly endless sea of brilliant blue mountains and dense evergreen forests. Located less than an hour’s drive north of Asheville, Burnsville provides a quieter alternative and a more immersive experience in the mountain wilderness than what we’d have found in one of North Carolina’s more popular mountain destinations. Asheville is an amazing and incredibly worthwhile place to visit, and I’d recommend it to anyone considering a trip to North Carolina. However, we wanted to go somewhere where there’s not much to do unless you’re outside exploring, and Burnsville is the kind of place that has one grocery store and zero restaurants open after 7:00 PM in the off season. In our twenties, we’d have been bored, but in our (very, very, somewhat early) thirties, we were in heaven.

views from the summit of Hawksbill Mountain, the exhilarating sunset hike that Andy and I took shortly after arriving in North Carolina

We explored two mountain trails in two days on this trip to North Carolina, but we could have spent two months in Burnsville without running out of new and beautiful hiking trails. After driving into our Appalachian Mountain destination on Saturday morning, we settled into our Airbnb on the outskirts of Burnsville, a surprisingly charming basement apartment below a retired couple’s gorgeous mountain cabin. Over the past couple of years, I’ve become increasingly impressed with retired couples who convert their basements into chic one bedroom apartments and rent them out on Airbnb. It’s a genius move, and when Andy and I retire to Telluride, CO in 2055, maybe we’ll have the opportunity to play host to future generations of weekend adventurers.

By the time we’d unloaded at the Airbnb made a quick grocery run, we only had a few hours of daylight left. I spent most of my time in the car on the way to North Carolina that morning researching hiking trails in the area and weighing our options against the estimated amount of daylight we’d have by the time we arrived at the trailhead and the amount of time I thought it’d take to hike the trail. I call this “geographic math”, which apparently means something different to real mathematicians. However, I often use this technique to choose hiking trails when scenery, seasonality, and level of difficulty aren’t enough to narrow down my options. I like to maximize my experience on hiking trails, especially when traveling, and that usually requires some planning in advance.

Watching the sunset form this peak felt so special and so unique. The vibrant colors reflecting off the mountains seemed so enchanting in this pre-dusk time.

Hawksbill Mountain Trail

Ultimately, Andy and I opted for a sunset hike to the summit of Hawksbill Mountain, and I’m so happy that we did. Sunset hikes, especially in the mountains, can be difficult to find and execute safely. Watching a sunset from the top of a mountain, breathless after a steep climb, offers tremendous reward for your efforts. The experience feels much more meaningful and satisfying than watching a sunset from a mountaintop or overlook that can be reached by car. The tricky part, however, is hiking back down in the dark. Luckily, daylight isn’t like a light switch that’s either on or off and never anywhere in between, and going down usually takes less time than going up. With all of this in mind, it’s important to select a sunset hike that suits your comfort level, and when in doubt, choose a short one.

The hike to the summit of Hawksbill Mountain, aptly named for the outline of its peak (or should I say… beak?! OK, that’s my only attempt at a pun this time, I promise) is only two miles, roundtrip. As you may suspect, the trail is steep, entirely and without exception. It’s manageable though, and we saw several small children and smaller dogs on our way to the top. Because we hiked here on a Saturday, and at sunset, we certainly weren’t alone on the trail, but the summit is a sprawling and craggy space that provides 360 degree views of the surrounding Linville Gorge Wilderness in Pisgah National Forest. Hawksbill Mountain measures 4,009 feet, which may not sound like much compared to the thousands of peaks two or three times as high in the western United States. The Appalachian Mountains hold a different kind of beauty, a pastoral simplicity that manifests itself in peaks that resemble ocean waves, both in color and texture. Having a front row seat to this rare landscape, at sunset nonetheless, provided a humbling reminder that unique and breathtaking mountain scenery exists much closer to our home in Nashville, TN than some might think.

gorgeous sunset views from the summit of Hawksbill Mountain

Mount Mitchell: Deep Gap Trail

On our second day in Burnsville, we decided to take the one hour drive from our Airbnb to Mount Mitchell State Park, home to America’s highest peak east of the Mississippi River. Although it’s possible to hike to the top of Mount Mitchell (6,683 ft) via several different trails, this summit is also accessible by car. The parking lot rests about 200 vertical feet below the peak, and a short walk up a wide paved path completes the easiest route to the top.

I know I just gushed over the rewards of a summit hike, so the fact that we drove to the top of Mount Mitchell may seem to contradict everything I said earlier about the significance of a summit that’s earned on foot and not gifted by a paved road. I wholeheartedly stand by that. However, I also have mixed emotions about putting in the effort to climb a mountain, reach the summit, and then share the views with toddlers and tour buses. It doesn’t diminish the view from the top, but it does compromise the purpose of the climb, for me anyways. My philosophy is this: If I can drive to the top, I will do that with gratitude, and I will reserve the limited time and energy that I have for summit hikes to the peaks that can’t be reached by car.

Appalachian Mountain views from the cold and windy summit of Mount Mitchell in February

We drove the the top of Mount Mitchell to visit the highest peak in the eastern United States, but the summit also served as our starting point for a breathtaking hike along the ridge line that connects Mount Mitchell to neighboring peaks including Mount Craig, the second highest peak in the eastern United States. Black Mountain Crest Trail, also known as Deep Gap Trail, extends more than eleven miles (one way) north from the summit of Mount Mitchell, ascending and descending as it traverses a string of some of the highest peaks in the Appalachian Mountain range. We hiked out to Cattail Peak (6,584 ft), which lies only three miles from the trailhead near the top of Mount Mitchell but crosses three additional summits in between. In the order of their appearance on the trail, these mountains include: Mount Craig (6,647 ft), Big Tom (6,581 ft), and Balsam Cone (6,611 ft). Although the summits of Mount Craig and Big Tom provided more expansive views across the rugged mountain wilderness than Balsam Cone and Cattail Peak, I enjoyed the evergreen canopy that shrouded the latter two peaks. Partially due to altitude and mostly due to hot, wet Southern air, the mountains around Burnsville don’t have tree lines. The dense woodland blanket that covers the Appalachian Mountain range from top to bottom is part of what makes these mountains so visually stunning.

Appalachian scenery form the summit of Mount Craig resembles a vast ocean of rolling hills and peaks across the surrounding wilderness.

Have you ever wondered why these mountains look so smooth and brilliantly blue? Brace yourselves for some sweet nature science, y’all. When viewed from afar, the mountains of the southern Appalachian range, including the Smokies and the Blue Ridge mountains, appear to be blue because of a hydrocarbon released by the trees covering these slopes: isoprene. Some trees emit more isoprene than others, and oak trees, abundant in the southeastern United States, release isoprene like Michael Scott releases “that’s what she said” one-liners. These isoprene molecules react with other molecules in the moisture-heavy air surrounding these mountains to create that alluring haze that blurs lines between peaks. When light from the sun hits this haze, it reflects a rainbow of colors, literally, because sunlight reflecting off moisture in the air creates actual rainbows. The human eye interprets blue more easily than almost any other color found in nature (it’s not a coincidence that skies and oceans are also blue), especially from a distance. Therefore, we see blue mountains. It’s amazing, right? You’re welcome.

Science is neat, but that’s not what I was thinking about during mine and Andy’s blissful long weekend in North Carolina. I kept thinking, why did it take us so long to do this, and when can we come back? North Carolina provided a wonderful combination of the intimacy and seclusion of my favorite close to home in Tennessee and the immense and imposing beauty of mountain landscapes I’ve hiked through in the western United States. Hiking these trails felt comfortable and exotic at the same time, and I can’t wait to return and explore more of this mountain paradise.

perhaps the most magnificent sunset I’ve ever seen

January 31, 2019April 30, 2019

My 2018 New Year’s Resolution: The Final Chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

January 1, 2019April 30, 2019

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

August 23, 2018April 30, 2019

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.