Painter Creek Falls

A few years ago, armed with a machete and a head full of stupid, I led John and Shane into the Sampson Mountain Wilderness in an attempt to gain access to the remote and seldom visited Painter Creek Falls in rural Greene County. On that day we gained the ridge line of Sampson Mountain early on but found it to be a slow moving affair negotiating thick scrub and plenty of thorns before finally running out of daylight near a survey marker on the shoulder of the mountain. It was a great day of exploring but the disappointing sting of failure stoked a fire that burned silently inside me for almost four years. A few weeks ago Justin Hopkins asked me to join him on a hike. We kicked around a few ideas before he suggested somewhere new for both of us. When he said Painter Creek Falls I was quick to agree.

A crude map of our proposed route.

The Sampson Mountain Wilderness is a bear sanctuary.

Our route up and over to meet Sampson ridge.

Justin is my greatest accomplishment as a hiker. We were friends through work and I invited him on a trip to see a few waterfalls in Erwin. After that trip, Justin found a love for hiking that even rivals my own and went on to be the first person to finish the North Carolina 500 waterfall challenge while also balancing work, marriage, and family. Occasionally Justin would have me join him on a "fun one" several that came to mind are the Raven Cliff Gorge of Upper Creek, The Road to Nowhere from Clingman's Dome, and now this monstrosity, where I was convinced he planned on finishing me off once and for all.

Painter Creek Falls is the largest waterfall in Greene County and a bear to get to. The last known people I have seen make the trip did so through private land over six years ago and had permission from the land owner. Justin and I would not have that luxury so it would require some map study and plotting in advance of our hike. I would like to think I've learned a little since my first attempt at Painter Creek, mainly the ability to read and use various map software on my phone to plot a course. Once I settled on the best route I still obsessed over the difficulty of what I had laid out for us to take on.

Justin leads us into the sky.

I think it took us over an hour to three tenths of a mile. 1200ft of elevation gain can do that!

As soon as we reached the ridge we found the largest bear track of the day....and Justin forgot his gun in the truck.

We would start at the end of Clark's Creek road which is also the trail head for Buckeye Falls. The air was chilled and the ground beneath our feet was frozen after several cold nights in a row. I carefully checked my gear and started our track before taking one last glance back at the truck and attempting to find a way to keep my feet dry on the first of multiple unbridged creek crossings. Justin had no time for finesse and plowed through the creek while I found a rock hop path across further upstream.  Our pace was brisk and we made easy work of the wide horse trail only slowing when I had to pick a dry way across the creek. Within the first hour we had blew by the turn for Chigger Branch Cascade as well as the Horse Camp where the trail finally deteriorates into more of a walking path. I'm not sure why I did it but I took a quick glance at our map and noticed the tiniest of finger ridges reaching down to make our approach what I felt like would be even easier than my initial plan. I showed it to Justin and we gazed up the steep bank but saw that woods were rather open and he agreed to give it a shot.

The woods were open but deceptively steep and beneath the fallen leaves were tiny loose pieces of shale making it two steps forward and one step back. The climb was slow and painful and Justin and I would ascend for about 60ft at a time before taking a break propped up against a tree to keep from falling backwards. It was difficult but we were having a blast retelling our many adventures and questioning our abilities to succeed on this daunting mission. After nearly an hour we reached a less difficult stretch of the ridge which followed a knife edge cliff we nicknamed Misery Point. We clearly weren't the only ones that thought this was a good approach as we encountered bear scat and plenty of paw prints in the snow as we inched closer to the top of the ridge. Once we topped out I looked back over our stats for the climb and realized we had gained over 1200ft in around .38 of a mile! 

The ridge was narrow and it was easy to tell which side held it's snow. Unfortunately our descent would be on the snowy side.

Looking back into Clark's Creek valley I could see Unaka rising up as we climbed higher.

The final climb to the summit of Sampson Mountain.

The spine of Sampson Mountain was coated in about three inches of fresh snow but the walking was heaven compared to what we had just done. Big views off into Clark's Creek valley on one side of us while views of the flat lands down near Greeneville on the other. Occasionally we would intersect animal tracks crossing the ridge with several deer, bobcat, and of course, more bears...including cubs. Several large trees caught my interest as we approached the true summit of Sampson Mountain and when I would stop to photograph them, Justin would cram snow into his now empty water bottle. As we drew closer to our last major climb both of us moaned from tired legs but we trudged up and over Sampson and set our sights on the drop off point a short distance further out the ridge. I honestly had my doubts up until that point of success but knowing it was all downhill to the falls gave me a boost of confidence although it would be short lived.

The bushwhacking begins as the slopes get steeper.

Justin inspects his near disaster stump removal during our sliding from tree to tree.

Reading my map app was becoming second nature and rather than climb the sister ridge of Sampson we kind of skirted along it's flank to meet a narrow spine that split Big Sugar Hollow and South Fork Painter Creek. From there we would simply stay with the ridge all the way down to the confluence of Painter with South Fork. Besides wading through wet snow we now encountered thick shrubs and undergrowth and it became evident the area had been struck by a wildfire sometime in the last decade. Not only was our progress painfully slow, it became painfully painful due to the thorns interspersed among the jungle. I begrudgingly took the lead and worked my way down the ridge like a human bulldozer. Our conversation ground to a halt and we focused on getting to the creek as we now both were out of water. A glance at the map showed we were closing in on a nearly 800ft steep descent with several bands of cliffs to deal with before reaching our prize. I was exhausted from plowing the way down so I turned the lead over to Justin and told him to just keep heading down. We didn't make it far before the snow and grade was too steep and too slick so we decided to ride it out by sliding on our rear ends from tree to tree all the way to Painter Creek. Our plan worked pretty well although we moved at a snails pace to ensure we didn't blow off the side of an unseen cliff. At times it was fun and we both laughed as often we would pick up too much speed and end up turned backwards or sideways precariously holding on to anything that would hold us. A hidden stump almost gave Justin a free vasectomy and the look on his face was one of concern as he glanced back at me.

I left a trace. It's hard to stop 365lbs going straight downhill.

Our last obstacle was this nearly dry cascade. We inched our way down each natural step.

The terrain remained steep and we started running into cliff bands that made me worried we may get trapped if we stair stepped down one and found it too slick to climb back up with the snow, so I adjusted our plan yet again. I noticed an unnamed tributary on the map parallel to South Fork and it looked less formidable,  so I told Justin to angle right as we descended to intersect it instead. It didn't take long until we were nearly 40 vertical feet above the safety of the trib, Justin went first down the final slide sticking the landing and letting out a victory yelp as he could finally refill his water. As he turned his attention to his bottle, I attempted a similar manuever but lost control of my hiking stick and it shot down with laser precision and stabbed Justin right in the back of his calf! I don't know why I thought it was so funny but I immediately started laughing and it helped break up the tension from the steep slide from near the summit of Sampson. Eventually I stopped laughing long enough to check on Justin as I also filled my water bottle from the bubbling stream. He didn't find it as humorous as me but he wasn't severely injured, so we turned our attention to reaching the main creek.

Rocky terrain is always a good sign of a waterfall nearby.

The land before time. 

Below us was as close to a path as we had since leaving Clark's Creek. The small creek was fairly open and I felt by continuing to follow straight down the gut of it would give us our best chance of success. Only a step or two into the descent Justin fell and his groin muscle seized up on him causing a mild delay and a hilarious conversation that can't be repeated here. After Justin got back to his feet we made short work of the tributary even climbing straight down a 20ft stairstep cascade. The final few feet before we reached Painter creek was a sea of grapevines with sizes unlike I had seen before. The entire area had a land that time had forgot feel as I rock hopped Painter Creek and turned my attention upstream to the confluence and our prized waterfall location.

Climbing toward Painter Creek Falls. The lower drops are impressive in their own right.

The main drop of Painter Creek pretty much covers the entire ridge.

Virgin timber was hidden deep in this hollow with large hemlock and tulip poplar that would impress even those that had seen the Smokies giants. As much as I wanted to inspect each one, daylight was fading and we had yet to the see waterfall. According to my map, I was now only 500 feet from seeing Painter Creek Falls but there was no sign of a trail so I scrambled among the now house-sized boulders and through the thick laurel on either side of the creek. A particularly pesky limb caught me by my pack causing me to face plant in the rememnants of snow and for a moment I laid there grateful to be off my feet and unusually at peace. It had took a herculean effort to reach this spot and I was beyond gassed. My brief rest was interrupted by Hopkins letting me know we were at the base. As I gazed up the mountain I saw a rock obscuring my view but behind it was the main flow of the 200ft waterfall. I scrambled up to join Justin and soak in the scene. Painter Creek is squeezed to a narrow chute spitting water out about 15ft before spreading out and cascading down another 70ft or so, it was everything I could have asked for. Justin and spent the next thirty minutes jockeying for position for photos and videos before reluctantly turning our attention to South Fork. 

Justin approves of our suffering.

We both knew there were several waterfalls on South Fork but we also knew we had an uncertain escape from darkness across a snow covered and dangerously steep mountain. Again I adjusted our plan and offered a more sane escape plan following Painter Creek out near it's intersection with private land and bushwhacking to a getaway car pick-up along 107. Justin was as tired as me and quickly agreed to go for it. We worked our way downstream still not seeing any signs of trails. Sometimes we would find an old logging road but it would fizzle out and we would be forced to creek walk due to the thick vegetation on either side. The progress was excruciating slow and I wondered if we would make it out when suddenly,  and a good distance downstream, I saw a bridge and not just any bridge, a well constructed, expensive, and private land bridge. We carefully skirted our way around the area and soon found a paved road beneath our feet. Several miles later, we collapsed alongside highway 107 awaiting pick up from my wife who was pretty angry to give up her spot on the couch to come rescue us.

Our path downstream was nonexistent.

Awaiting our rescue.

When Amber wheeled in beside us about 30 minutes later she greeted us by saying, "What's up, dumbasses?" Justin and I both laughed and admitted she was probably right but we had fun, accomplished our goal, and most importantly, lived to tell about it. God only knows what crazy idea we will dream up next! In closing, don't attempt this...seriously, and as always, happy trails!

Foothills Camping Trip

Recently my friends Shane and John have been bit by the backpacking bug. Our group conversations have been comparisons of all their new gear and gadgets making life in the wild a lot more bearable. I knew it was only a matter of time before they started working on luring me into some overnight trips with them despite my well documented love of sleeping in my soft bed in front of a box fan. At first it was car camping on Unaka, then their overnight thru the Roan Highlands (which I bailed on but did hike in and visit) and finally this trip, a waterfall extravaganza along the North Carolina South Carolina border on the Foothills Trail.

I did it to myself. On Roan, I declared I would be more tempted to do an overnight trip if it was to collect some waterfalls that required no other way to see unless you're willing to pay a tour guide to boat you in. The centerpiece of my trip would be Sky Falls located on Rock Creek which empties directly into Lake Jocassee. Sky Falls is around 150ft high and flows through a rocky cliff face creating an awe inspiring scene even in pictures, so I had to see it for myself. If you go searching the internet you'll find very little info available about it and it barely gets mentioned in Kevin Adam's waterfall guide due to being outside the property of Gorges State Park (p.242). A closer inspection using GIS data reveals the property splits the creek in half all the way to the falls, so if we stay in the creek we stay legal. Something we would later confirm from a second source.

The property issue aside I went into full planning mode looking at access points and routes to see Sky Falls and some nice waterfalls nearby. I settled on a connector I had used once before to hike to Virginia Hawkins Falls from Laurel Fork Gap along the Horsepasture Road in South Carolina. I thought we could hike that three miles down by Virginia Hawkins and Laurel Fork Falls on day one and camp by Rock Creek before knocking out Sky Falls on day two and climbing out via the Canebrake Trail to a second car to complete our shuttle. When I mentioned the idea to John and Shane they were both in agreement that good times would be had but John suggested doing the route in reverse since Canebrake would have a nearly five mile climb at the end of our trip. 

On Wednesday we all departed early with plans to meet at the park and ride on highway 64 outside of Rosman. NC to stage our cars for the shuttle. Shane and I linked up outside of Asheville and stopped and grabbed some subs for our supper while John traveled in from Maggie Valley. Our timing was impeccable and Shane agreed to wait at the park and ride while John and I made the nearly hour trip to drop a car at Lairel Gap. We experienced our first navigational error of the day when John and I following his GPS wound up on a narrow mountain road in private neighborhoods. We ended up backing up a good distance just to have room to turn around and go in the way I had previously been on Horsepasture Road. Despite the detour, we arrived back to Shane and were soon thereafter at Frozen Creek access for Gorges State Park. 

I checked and double checked my gear and truck before nervously shouldering my pack and clipping all the straps down. To me it felt like I had a house sitting on my back but Shane estimated it at around 27lbs. (I have since figured up the weights of what I had with me and it was closer to 40lbs.) The first .7 of the trail is a steady climb approaching a gap where the Auger Hole Trail breaks right and down to the Toxaway River near Chub Line, Step Around, and the Wintergreen Falls. We turned left at the gap onto Canebrake which follows the ridge for around a mile before beginning a four mile descent to where the Toxaway dumps into Lake Jocassee. Shane and John stayed a good bit ahead of me as I listened to my pack creak and groan under the strain of all my gear. Thankfully it drowned out the creaking of my knees and heavy breathing. 

Occasionally I would glance at our map and check the progress on my phone. In an hour we were able to cover three miles in full pack so we all were feeling really confident as the trail began to lose elevation in earnest. I couldn't help but notice some previous pins I had in my backcountry app from a trip to the Wilds and some crazy awesome waterfalls on Toxaway Creek. The Canebrake Trail splits the ridge between the Toxaway River and creek making it tantalizingly close to those falls and although you need permission to get in, it IS a Christian camp so sometimes you just need to ask yourself, "What would Jesus do?"

But anyway...

As we approached the confluence of the river with the lake the roar of water filled our ears and after five miles of chasing John and Shane down a mountain I was ready for a refreshing dip. I had read about a nearly 2 million dollar suspension bridge over the river nearby that was in the opposite direction of our destination but I still wanted to see it since it was less than a hundred yards away, plus I was getting in that river! On the bridge we discovered it had a lot of bounce especially with my weight on it which reminded Shane of his fear of heights. Seeing him grip the rails and scream was pretty satisfying. I finally relented and joined John beneath the bridge in a small cascade just shy of the lake. The water was brisk but it was so needed knowing we had another challenge less than a mile away.

During my research for our trip I noticed a lot of people talk about Heartbreak Ridge, a series of steep steps that ascend from the lake to a false summit and rest bench before continuing a grueling climb before descending down to Rock Creek. We crushed the half mile along the lake and passed by some stunning campsites before abruptly arriving at the foot of Heartbreak Ridge. Wooden steps held on with rebar are bolted into the side of rock faces and you climb over 300 of them before some sanity returns to the trail. At one point, if I had fell backwards it would have been a free fall until I crushed John far below me! The backside of Heartbreak is equally steep and we cautiously inched our way down toward the sound of a creek and our home for the night. 

I was afraid we would have company at the Rock Creek camp but it was completely empty allowing us to set up wherever we pleased. We found a nice spot directly beside the creek and shucked our packs to survey the surrounding area. A short distance down the creek was the lake and a beach looking area and we had a nice firepit with benches across from our camp. Perhaps most importantly, I felt great too! I had made it to within a mile of Sky Falls and even though we didn't start hiking until around 1230 we were at camp at ten minutes until five. Nothing could stop us now!

Then the rains came.

The rain started as a drizzle and quickly turned into a shower. It just so happened I was in the midst of setting up my tent. I was unable to get my rain fly on in time so the inside of my tent got filled with water. In my rush to try to get it finished I had laid my phone on my pack and water pooled around the port causing me to be unable to recharge it. So with 40% charge I had to shut it off to save it for pictures the next day and if I needed my map. Despite all this I stayed relatively jovial. I was with two of my best friends and I was going to see a waterfall I'd waited on for several years. I rummaged through my gear and shook my tent out as best I could. My sleep pad and new air mattress purchased just for this trip were dry and so were all my warm clothes for the chilly night ahead. 

The rain by this point had let up except for a drip here and there but an intense level of humidity followed and stayed with us into the evening. As I finally got all my camp situated I realized I had no need for warm clothes or ANY clothes for that matter. Shane set off to gather any firewood he could find not soaked from the rain with surprising success. Meanwhile John and I ate supper and unearthed the jar of shine I had secured for our trip. Shane got an impressive fire going and we sat around the benches letting our shoes dry out for the next morning while listening to music, telling stories, and of course, enjoying our beverages. As the first day wound down I retired to my tent right at 10pm while John and Shane remained by the fire pit. The heat was unbearable in my tent. Soon I had stripped of everything other than my headlamp and laid flat of my back staring up hoping for any kind of breeze. I slowly cooled off and may have even been dozing when I was woke by the running and laughing of Shane and John just outside our camp. I could see through the thin nylon that their headlamps were approaching at warp speed. Shane started yelling for me to come join them saying they had found a copperhead and I needed to take pictures. I grabbed my briefs and took out of the tent turning on my rain soaked phone. 

We had to search for a minute but we found the snake over by the bear cables laying on a branch. We spent several minutes there taking pictures before John and Shane realized I was almost naked and roared with laughter at the sight of me stalking around in my underwear and headlamp chasing a copperhead. We ended up leaving the snake to his area and we returned to ours and the rest of the evening was uneventful.

Day 2.

I awoke just before daybreak feeling really good. I was a little tired but my new air mattress had kept my hips from hurting and I estimated I had slept soundly for at least seven hours. John would confirm this since he got to listen to me snore all night. I snoozed a bit more until I heard Shane and John's voices over by the firepit. I crawled out and joined them learning it was shortly after 7am. We poked around and got the fire going again, ate our breakfast, brushed our teeth, and set out for Sky Falls around 845am. There isn't a trail to Sky Falls other than just hiking up Rock Creek and after our Copperhead encounter I wasn't keen on doing any bushwhacking anyway. The creek walk was pretty open with only a few downfall and a couple of tricky cascades to navigate around. It was already humid so I didn't mind staying in the deep holes we came across while Shane and John tried to stay semi-dry. It's always amazing to me how long a mile seems when walking in a creek. I estimate I can walk three miles of trail to the one mile of creek. I had studied a previous groups trip so I recognized several landmarks along the creek and told the guys I felt like we were getting close.

The biggest landmark is a road that swings down and parallels the creek. It continues all the way to the falls as there is a house built right at the base! Sure enough as we made it closer and closer Shane saw a flagpole up on the hill with an American flag and a Trump 2020 just below it. I was going to have to be on my best behavior. Despite the house, we continued on knowing we were legal and I finally laid my eyes on Sky Falls. All I can say is it's spectacular, I would put it easily in the top 20 waterfalls I've ever seen and that's saying something. All three of us were quick to dig out our phones and photograph the beauty in front of us. We were so distracted we barely noticed the owner of the house above us pulling in and watching us below. I had heard he's nice and I was hot so I went about my swimming and admiring the falls. When we finished playing we turned back down the creek and began our return to camp. As we pulled alongside the access road I heard the sound of a motor and it was coming our way.

Within minutes a man on a fourwheeler pulled up next to us. I was hesitant to say anything but he broke the ice by saying we were hardcore for walking the creek from the lake. John quickly noted "well we wanted to do it the legal way." The gentleman agreed and told us of how most people get frustrated and end up just trotting through his property. I told him we just enjoy seeing beautiful falls and how blessed he was to have a place like he did. He then shocked us all by inviting us up to check it out and get some fresh waters. We climbed the stairs where he and his wife were waiting on us. We exchanged chit chat and he wanted to give us the grand tour so we went in their cabin as he told us stories of his many conversation pieces. I tried my best to keep my back turned away from him since I had ripped my hiking shorts the day before riding a cascade down the Toxaway but mostly I stayed in shock as I couldn't get over his hospitality. Meanwhile his wife brought us some water and we spent nearly an hour with them before we had to get moving for our second day agenda. He graciously allowed us to walk his road and told us of an old trail he once made that cut our trip back time in half. I will have to say as impressive as the waterfall was, his kindness was even more so. 

Back at camp we made quick work of cleaning up and reloading our packs. Shane raved about how much lighter they'd be after eating our food and beverages but mine still felt heavy to me. We weren't warned of the climb out of Rock Creek and after having over two miles of off trail to see Sky Falls we faced a grunt of a mile climbing straight up from the lake to meet the ridge line. I really struggled and guzzled water as our visit with the land owners had put us hiking squarely in the heat of the day. When we mercifully reached the ridge I shed my pack and panted like a dog while Shane and John looked on. The ridge hiking was mostly flat and an old forest road paralleled the trail and we walked it for several stretches to cut out unnecessary up and down. Whoever designed the Foothills Trail is pretty sadistic for sure. My legs came around and we cruised into Laurel Fork around the seven mile mark of the day. The waterfall was huge but we didn't see a real good way to get down so knowing we still had over three miles of climbing to the gap we opted for sitting on the brink of the uppermost drop while our feet dangled and sharing a bag of almonds. 

The last three miles were agony. I had crazy fantasies of tossing my pack and just leaving it there for good. At one point my legs just stopped working and I found myself lying back on my pack like a turtle upside down on it's shell. John had the foresight to bring his walkie talkies so I checked in to let them know I needed a minute. They continued on to see the final waterfall of our day, Virginia Hawkins. I had previously seen it with Scott and Traci so I stuck to hiking on eventually meeting them at a detour section for the falls since the footbridge was out. We still had a little over a mile and I inched my way forward until I finally heard Shane and John at the gap while John blew his car horn to let me know I was almost done. 

I staggered out of the woods and across the Horsepasture Road. I finally could rid myself of the pack and I had clean clothes to put on since I could smell a two day camping trip stinch on the one's currently draped over my beat down carcass. John cranked the AC and then did his best to try to kill us in a fiery crash as he dashed out the narrow gravel road and to the other cars. Normally there is all kinds of chatter after a trip and we relive it in the parking lot before departing but all of us were tired and it showed as we threw our gear in our trucks and hit the road toward home. 

Now several days later, most of my wounds have healed and the soreness has dissipated I realize what a great trip it was. We all depended on each other one way or the other.  Shane brought me a packable quilt, I let John borrow my more reliable headlamp, he loaned me a water filter, while we both supplied Shane with delicious beverages. In two days we saw some of the finest waterfalls of the Foothills and squeezed in twenty miles of hiking. More than anything I look forward to our next trip. How else am I going to break in this new phone and waterproof case? Until next time, happy trails!

Imagine trying to find a waterfall and all you had to go on was a rock and an Instagram check-in at a campground. That's pretty much all I had to work with when I first was made aware of the waterfall on Cove Branch in the Catoosa Wildlife Management Area near Crab Orchard, TN. It was those few clues along with pictures of the falls that caused me to file it near the top of my 'I want to see that list.' Unfortunately for me, those folks weren't sharing any helpful information intentionally.

Daddys Creek from the parking area. The Cumberland Trail climbs that ridge and has a view off the cliff.

This wooden bridge didn't look really trustworthy so we walked the short distance over to pick up the Cumberland Trail.

The post said there was no mention of it in books, maps, websites, etc but yet the falls were huge. How could they stay hidden for so long? Of course as pictures of the waterfall spread amongst the outdoor community, an old post from a group of Cumberland Trail builders featured a picture of the same "newly discovered" falls and all eyes turned to Daddys Creek Gorge and it's prized waterfall that even showed up on Google satellite imagery. 

Early into the hike we crossed this small wooden foot bridge over a tributary of Daddys Creek.

One of the only other trail descriptions list this as the Trail of 1000 steps. It wasn't quite that bad but it definitely was a work out.

With the location pinned down, it was just a matter of time before we were going to see it for ourselves. This past Sunday happened to be that time and we piled into Katie's car early that morning for the three hour ride into Cumberland County, TN. Jesus (aka John) is always kind enough to let me ride shotgun while he serves as chief navigator from the backseat. On our trip down, he drew up a mapped route for our GPS devices on his laptop marked with possible entry and exit points from the gorge. 

John walks along the CT next to Little Cove Branch.

Icicles clung to the cliffs making for some wonderful photo opportunities.

Katie along the cliffs of the CT.

While reading about the area we would be hiking I learned a portion of the uncompleted Cumberland Trail passes close to the area where the falls would be but also found mention of another waterfall on Little Cove Branch. Jesus decided to start us near those falls where we could see several waterfalls on our trip plus get some good hiking in as well. 

John ducks off trail in pursuit of our first waterfall of the Daddys Creek hike.

Katie takes the lead. She wants to be at the base of that beauty!

Katie shows the size of the 60ft Little Cove Branch Falls.

Three hours goes by fast when you travel with John and Katie and soon we were closing in on Crab Orchard, TN and since we were a little ahead of schedule we decided to stop by an old favorite and check out Ozone Falls. Anytime you can leave your car and five minutes later be standing at a 110ft high waterfall I recommend it. We played around for a few minutes stretching our legs and taking pictures before riding the final 30 minutes over to the trail head. 

John and Katie take a break after our first successful find of the day.

The steepness coming out of Little Cove Branch to meet the main trail.

The Catoosa Wildlife Management Area spans over two counties and is funded by hunters and fishers licence fees. As we bounced along the gravel roads that run along the perimeter of the gorge I could feel my excitement building. Katie's must have been building too as she sped down the bumpy road, more than once I had to hold the oh shit bar and brace for impact. Thankfully, we stayed on all four wheels and in a cloud of dust we slide into a large gravel lot alongside Daddys Creek. 

John and Katie alongside an impressive rock formation the CT passes as it leaves the gorge of Little Cove Branch.

When they start pointing it typically doesn't end well for me.

Immediately I was impressed with Daddys Creek with it's bright green hue and roaring waters it was certain we wouldn't be able to cross it on foot. Luckily a lowly wood bridge spans it's depths and served as our access to our trail....if we could find it. I unfolded from the car and stretched while John and Katie scurried back and forth checking their bags. I picked up my pack and it felt noticeably heavy to me. It had been well over a month since I had carried all my gear myself but with being medically cleared from my surgeon and oncologist, I was grateful for that weight.

Katie beneath the rock tower for scale.

The side profile of the rock tower reminds me of a Sphinx.

After my emergency appendectomy, it was revealed the culprit was a cancerous tumor that had caused my pain. An appointment with an oncologist was arranged with a few miserably long weeks of waiting. The day of my appointment I sat on a cold table and starred at a waterfall picture hung on the wall. I wondered if life was going to change so that I wouldn't be able to adventure and I felt tears swell in my eyes. The doctor eventually arrived breaking my trance on the wall and delivered the news....the surgery had been enough to medically say I was cured and all of the cancer was contained to the appendix. The relief I felt can not be put into words but the motivation was tenfold. I was back.

After over 200+ stairs we leveled off and followed close to the canyon rim of Daddys Creek for several miles.

Several social paths leave the main trail for views down the gorge and we took the time to visit each one of them.

Across the bridge I climbed the ridge looking hard for our trail. Suddenly I noticed a double blazes and a small metal sign tacked to the tree that said "foot travel welcome" I had found the Cumberland Trail. I waited for John and Katie to join me and we dropped over the bank and across a wooden bridge over a tributary of Daddys Creek. From there the trail climbed steeply to meet the gorge rim and then dropped us into the next small canyon that Little Cove Branch flows through. Unfortunately there isn't a bridge over the creek but a large tree had fallen just upstream from the flagged crossing that allowed me to keep dry feet. As soon as we crossed the creek, we paralleled a large cliff wall with icicles dangling high above our heads. Several times during this stretch some would break loose and crash dangerously close to where we were walking. We couldn't look up to see them coming because the ground below our feet was solid ice as well. 

Katie and her super sized burl.

At the main view above Daddys Creek we could hear our objective about 100 vertical feet over the edge of the cliff. We wouldn't be going down from this side!

As the trail swings away from Little Cove Branch and up through a rocky pass in the cliff line we could see the other waterfall we were looking for a short distance upstream. A mild trail looks like it will eventually be completed with a few cut laurel and flags but it peters out and it's a steep side hill climb out to the base of an impressive 60ft free fall into a bright green pool. Katie scrambled over behind the falls and I took a few pictures before we retreated under a rock overhang before rejoining the main trail.

The Cumberland Trail is magnificent through this stretch as a series of 200+ steps lift you through a natural stone door in the cliffs. Above you is a monster boulder balanced on a pillar of rock. We took our sweet time through this section and took plenty of pictures. Once you return to the rim of the gorge, the hike is relatively tame and boring for long stretches. With level ground and a hankering for adventure we blistered the miles as we followed high above Daddys Creek getting ever closer to the waterfall that seemed so far away just weeks prior. 

John in the rock hallway just before crossing Cove Branch.

John walks below some frozen laurel next to Cove Branch.

Occasionally we would find something of interest to us, like a social trail that would lead out to a view off the cliffs or a large burl on one of the smallest trees we had ever seen. Finally after over three miles of hiking we came to a split in the trail. I glanced at my GPS and surmised we were at the overlook directly above Cove Branch Falls. As we followed the spur out to check we saw the only other people would meet that day, an elderly couple that had hiked from Devils Breakfast Table parking as well. The first words out of the man's mouth was "there's a waterfall over there." I didn't care anything about the overlook at that point but for thoroughness we checked it out anyway. Sure enough, as I inched over to the cliff edge I could see the lower half of THE waterfall. We all exchanged high fives and retreated to the main trail for a trip to the base. 

Katie crosses a large rock slab before the Cumberland Trail would abruptly end.

Katie picked up some flags leading us toward Daddys Creek and around the cliffs we were just on top of.

We were in for one more Cumberland Trail treat before the main event, as the trail approaches the creek it passes through a rock hallway reminiscent of the channels back in Virginia. The trail then crosses Cove Branch a good distance upstream from the falls, it was really hard to keep dry feet here but we found just enough rock exposed to hop across. Even more impressive than our dry feet was how of all of John's red lines as what he called "possible routes" and the Cumberland Trail matched up precisely. Impressive considering the Cumberland Trail doesn't show up on our maps. As I walked along starring at my yellow arrow mirroring the red line on John's map I almost tripped over the dead end of the Cumberland Trail. We huddled briefly as we looked at our options, flags continued away from us but were leading further from the falls. I suggested dropping off the ridge to our left and pick up a drainage that headed toward Daddys Creek that didn't look overly steep on topo. Sure enough as we dropped into that drainage we found a new set of flags heading right for our waterfall. We followed along until they ended near Daddys Creek but by that point you could hear the waterfall. Katie stayed high above us along the cliff wall while John and I meandered on a course closer to Daddys Creek angling our way up through an ankle breaking field of Talus as the waterfall came into view through the trees. By some miracle all our varying paths dumped us through a laurel chocked chute of mud and rock and as the branches parted we found ourselves along the deep pool at Cove Branch Falls.

John kicks it in high gear heading toward Cove Branch Falls aka Fire Rake Falls. These rocks were so loose and he was moving so fast i don't know how he didn't break his neck.

My first look at Cove Branch Falls.

I don't think any of us spoke a word the first few minutes. John quickly crossed the pool and vanished behind a large rock to eat lunch and tie off his hammock. Katie set her sights on a narrow ledge that split the upper and lower drops of the waterfall and disappeared back into the laurel while I found a rock to sit on to attempt photos with the spray barreling down on me. Alone on the rock, I said a small prayer of thanks for all that I had blessed with. I'm in full belief that people that prayed for me was one of the determining outcomes of my doctor's report. Again, water ran down my face, not from tears, but from the unrelenting mist of Cove Branch Falls. The whole scene was spectacular. The waterfall fell in two distinct drops and filled the greenest pool I had ever laid eyes on. On either side massive cliff walls rose high above the falls and all the rocks were adorned with a healthy coat of moss. Most impressive of all was not a single piece of trash, no cut branches, and no sign of foot traffic. It was easy to see why someone would mistake it as newly discovered.

In typical Katie fashion she had to see the waterfall from every angle. Here she is high.

And here she is low.

Katie reached the ledge and inched out to a point dangerously close to the lower drop. I focused my camera and fired off several shots. Thankfully one of the pictures was free of water spots. When she returned she joined John for lunch but it involved getting wet feet. I decided to stay alone in the mist and dug my emergency blanket out of my pack to serve as a wind break shelter while I ate lunch as well. Its hard to believe it but that little foil blanket kept me warm, dry, and comfortable while i could still see though it and admire the falls. Once I had my lunch, I was warm and full of energy again. I was gonna get on that ledge too!

John and Katie are so small next to the falls. Can you find them?

This one is going to hang in my living room alongside the Appalachian Queen. Both waterfalls were major thought consumers over the last year of my life.

The climb up wasn't too terrible just a little steep and muddy but once I was on the ledge I had to be cautious of ice and falling ice. I worked my way out to a large tree growing on the rock and wedged in against it for more pictures and video. I caught John and Katie's attention so I would be sure to have photographic evidence of my act of stupidity. I decided to wait on the ledge since we had to climb out anyway and eventually John joined me and we waited on Katie to make it through the laurel. We followed in the shadow of the towering wall looking for a different exit point than we came in. Once again John had nailed it on the maps finding and marking correctly a small vertical draw that would get us above the cliff.

Papa Bear makes it to the ledge!

Pretty sweet view from up top too!

The upper drop was photogenic just by itself.

It was the first time I had attempted to use my Christmas gift from John, and I anxiously strapped on Katoosa nanospikes to my boots. The traction was instantly better and we picked our way up the ravine reaching a small rocky shelf where we had to take turns scooting up and over our final obstacle. John went first and secured  a small strap and dropping it down for Katie. She vanished above me as well and it was my turn. I crawled out to the edge,found the rope, and with a big pull, I was out of Daddys Creek Gorge.

Katie is in this picture. Look to the far right.

Looking up above my head on the ledge.

The return to the main trail wasn't easy as we had to fight through a stretch of briars and dog hobble before bursting into open woods. Once on the main trail, the hard part was over. The sun was already fading and clouds lit up with orange and pink hues. We didn't need it but we were rewarded with a gorgeous sunset as we marched back toward Devils Breakfast Table. Complete darkness caught us for the final mile of the day and we had to use caution returning through the cliffs around Little Cove Branch. Once we reached the car we took turns changing into our clean clothes and keying in the nearest Mexican restaurant. On the road we raved of our day and how wonderful it was but within a few hours we had already set our sights on a new goal. To be continued....

John found a small cave on our way out.

Katie in the narrow ravine that would lead us out to the main trail and some hard earned bean and cheese dip. Peace out, Daddys Creek!

Happy Trails!