Tucker and I spent our second day of our trip at the cabin in the woods, writing, relaxing, and reading. We even had an unexpected guest who liked the place as much as we did:
To balance our day of solitude amongst the trees, we ventured back out to civilization in the evening to our favorite local hangout, The Bywater.
Tucker and I had a drink or two, socialized around the nightly bonfire, then retreated back our woodland paradise for a good night’s sleep before our next hiking adventure.
The Chimneys and Rock Table are at opposite ends of the same trailhead starting point in a picnic and camping area, and with our limited time here, I decided a two for one deal was needed. Only an hour and a half away in the Linville Gorge Wilderness, I planned for us to start hiking by 10am to avoid the excessive mid-day heat. That meant leaving at 8am—a stretch for us, but we could manage.
It wasn’t our leave time that took us on an extended drive—it as Apple maps. Thanks, Apple.
As we neared the trailhead, only three miles away according to Apple maps, we reached a fork in the dirt road. One way led to “PRIVATE PROPERTY - DEAD END” and the other to “NO ACCESS TO TABLE ROCK. PRIVATE DRIVE.” Well… that’s no good.
Apple didn’t give me another option, and looking at the map, it seemed I’d have to drive a couple hours around the base of the mountain to get to the top from the north. This couldn’t be right. So I headed back down the road to the few businesses along the roadside. I was going to ask the convenience store employee, but when I spotted three firefighters hanging outside their station right next to the store, I opted to ask their advice. If you want to know where something is in town, I suspect cabbies, police, and firefighters are your top three choices for obtaining accurate directions and the quickest route.
My hypothesis was correct. They knew exactly what I was talking about and told me that Apple’s route had taken me to the road that had been closed off seven years prior. They then proceeded to give me exact directions including mileage and landmarks. I needn’t drive around the mountain, but just further down the road—however the way up was rather long.
“It’s like thirteen miles up the mountain,” one of them said.
“Well I’m already here, might as well make a go of it.”
He was right: 13.1 miles. Firefighters certainly know their fire roads.
The long winding road up the mountain was well worth it. I couldn’t imagine people making weekly trips up this way just for a picnic. I only passed one person going downhill while we were going up—which was good because the road was narrow and its edge was a mere unprotected cliff.
Of course all this meant that rather than arriving by 10am, my trusty steed took her much needed break at high noon. Even though it was two miles out and back to the Chimneys and two miles out and back to Table Rock, in case we didn’t fare well in the heat and couldn’t manage both trails, I opted to go to the Chimneys first.
The rocky trail covered in tree roots make me feel at home. It was shaded when we began, so we trucked along at a decent pace despite the heat.
The Chimneys and Rock Table are at opposite ends of the same trailhead starting point in a picnic and camping area, and with our limited time here, I decided a two for one deal was needed. Only an hour and a half away in the Linville Gorge Wilderness, I planned for us to start hiking by 10am to avoid the excessive mid-day heat. That meant leaving at 8am—a stretch for us, but we could manage.
It wasn’t our leave time that took us on an extended drive—it as Apple maps. Thanks, Apple.
As we neared the trailhead, only three miles away according to Apple maps, we reached a fork in the dirt road. One way led to “PRIVATE PROPERTY - DEAD END” and the other to “NO ACCESS TO TABLE ROCK. PRIVATE DRIVE.” Well… that’s no good.
Apple didn’t give me another option, and looking at the map, it seemed I’d have to drive a couple hours around the base of the mountain to get to the top from the north. This couldn’t be right. So I headed back down the road to the few businesses along the roadside. I was going to ask the convenience store employee, but when I spotted three firefighters hanging outside their station right next to the store, I opted to ask their advice. If you want to know where something is in town, I suspect cabbies, police, and firefighters are your top three choices for obtaining accurate directions and the quickest route.
My hypothesis was correct. They knew exactly what I was talking about and told me that Apple’s route had taken me to the road that had been closed off seven years prior. They then proceeded to give me exact directions including mileage and landmarks. I needn’t drive around the mountain, but just further down the road—however the way up was rather long.
“It’s like thirteen miles up the mountain,” one of them said.
“Well I’m already here, might as well make a go of it.”
He was right: 13.1 miles. Firefighters certainly know their fire roads.
The long winding road up the mountain was well worth it. I couldn’t imagine people making weekly trips up this way just for a picnic. I only passed one person going downhill while we were going up—which was good because the road was narrow and its edge was a mere unprotected cliff.
Of course all this meant that rather than arriving by 10am, my trusty steed took her much needed break at high noon. Even though it was two miles out and back to the Chimneys and two miles out and back to Table Rock, in case we didn’t fare well in the heat and couldn’t manage both trails, I opted to go to the Chimneys first.
The rocky trail covered in tree roots make me feel at home. It was shaded when we began, so we trucked along at a decent pace despite the heat.
Coming out of the woods, we found ourselves at an open vista:
We walked a little further out onto a sloped cliff and there, my heart stopped.
This wasn’t Yosemite, but this sight made my eyes water in awe. It was unexpected and majestic. I can only imagine what my reaction would be to El Capitan.
Although it didn’t seem hot, sweat poured off me. Tucker and I stood, me in awe and sweat, he, panting and drooling. I looked at alltrails and was surprised to see we had only gone about a half a mile. The heat had sucked our energy away.
A thru-hiker who was heading toward the trailhead from the Chimney Stacks stopped for a moment. He said according to his books (or app… I don’t now), this was Kodachrome Overlook. I thought it was fitting, and a wonderful place to be reminded of Paul Simon music.
A thru-hiker who was heading toward the trailhead from the Chimney Stacks stopped for a moment. He said according to his books (or app… I don’t now), this was Kodachrome Overlook. I thought it was fitting, and a wonderful place to be reminded of Paul Simon music.
The thru-hiker had been traveling a day and a half and was headed back the way he had come. I told him Table Rock was less than two miles away, but he said, Nope, this was far enough.
About half an hour later, I understood his perspective.
He headed back the way he came, and Tucker and I followed shortly thereafter, making sure Tucker had an adequate break in the shade. We were both slow moving, not just because of the heat, but because the views were meant to be drunk slowly, to be savored, to be etched into your heart forever.
About half an hour later, I understood his perspective.
He headed back the way he came, and Tucker and I followed shortly thereafter, making sure Tucker had an adequate break in the shade. We were both slow moving, not just because of the heat, but because the views were meant to be drunk slowly, to be savored, to be etched into your heart forever.
While Nature is always beautiful to me, this is one of the most stunning places I have ever been. Unfortunately, any photo I took just didn’t do it justice. It was if it wanted to remain secret, and would only reveal its beauty to those who made the effort to experience it in person (or in dog.)
Tucker and I climbed through rock crevices and along narrow paths, all the while feeling secure. The forest here and the land, seemed to protect us, as if they enjoyed our presence. We were welcome here to appreciate their beauty. I never felt like I could slip and fall off the mountain, even though looking at pictures and given my inferior motor skills, it seemed chances were high.
As we passed around one of the chimney stacks, I saw the thru-hiker’s pack shoved under a bush in an obscure trail that looked more like water run-off had created it, not a trailblazer. A little further down the way, I looked up and saw him high atop one of the chimneys.
I couldn’t figure out a safe way for Tucker and I to both make it up there, so we took in the view from our own path--which was glorious enough for me.
We continued along the trail until it seemed we were going downhill again. With the heat and the lack of optimism on finding anything as majestic as this, we turned around and headed back.
I always worry about Tucker suffering from heat exhaustion. He doesn’t take the heat well, and he’ll just keep going until he finally can’t. His panting seemed harsh, so it seemed best we take a break.
I found a little camping area tucked away in a shady spot and climbed up onto the natural platform. The rock acted like a cooler and Tucker lay down, absorbing it from the rock wall and hard earth.
I always worry about Tucker suffering from heat exhaustion. He doesn’t take the heat well, and he’ll just keep going until he finally can’t. His panting seemed harsh, so it seemed best we take a break.
I found a little camping area tucked away in a shady spot and climbed up onto the natural platform. The rock acted like a cooler and Tucker lay down, absorbing it from the rock wall and hard earth.
I wondered how many people throughout the ages had set a fire here and slept in the mountain’s loving embrace.
We stayed for a good twenty minutes, us both resting and me finally accepting that we would not be making it to Table Rock. We had only walked a little over a mile, but the heat made it seem like five miles already.
On the way back, I marveled at the trail, an obstacle course for Tucker to navigate, up rocks and boulders and around trees.
On the way back, I marveled at the trail, an obstacle course for Tucker to navigate, up rocks and boulders and around trees.
Although I prefer loops trails that keep us seeing something new around every bend, the best part of an out and back trails is turning around and experiencing where you’ve just been from a whole new perspective.
The Linville Gorge Wilderness is a place Tucker and I are sure to return to many times. It’s a magical place in the Pisgah Forest, where rock and tree, water and sky meet to form majestic towers and stunning vistas. My feet are happy to traverse its unique landscapes and my eyes can’t get enough of the surrounding visuals. The sounds and scents—all of it—makes me want to lie down and curl up, gazing off into the distance of the mountains, feeling at home in this glorious wilderness.
Thank you, Blue Mountains for always welcoming this girl born at the other end of your mountain range, whose manmade abode is thousands of miles from your western-most ridge. Tucker and I hope to return soon to appreciate your wonder and splendor, and will always carry a bit of your magic within our hearts wherever we go.
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