People should be careful when making a sweeping metaphor. For instance, stating that Panthertown Valley in North Carolina is the “Yosemite of the South” is pretty bold and should be backed up with some pretty solid evidence.
I did not find that evidence.
Not that I’ve ever been to Yosemite.
So perhaps I’ve set Yosemite standards too high. Or perhaps in the Ven diagram of the two, I simply hadn’t hiked far enough to reach the overlapping circles and was way off to the left, wondering what all the fuss was about.
Now please understand: Nature is always something to fuss about. I look forward to every footfall that doesn’t involve manmade pavement, and I appreciate the details of beauty that make up every glorious vista. But when you hear that something should be the likes of Yosemite…
I have been to the “Grand Canyon of the South” and having been to the western one, I can see the comparison. Certainly it was not miles upon miles of caverns etched through time and looking like a painting from the south rim, but it was a pretty cool canyon on a small scale in southeastern United States. I was impressed and entertained.
I will blame my disappointment of Panthertown Valley on my own expectations for Nature never disappoints, but I disappoint myself quite often. And I clearly had some pretty high expectations.
Tucker and I set ourselves up in a cabin in Fairview, North Carolina, just south of Asheville. On our first stop on our back-to-California-the-long-way-around trip, we had three full days to hike, write, explore, and rest. Panthertown Valley had gotten such excellent reviews, I chose that as our first hike. With concentric loop trails, we had the opportunity to go long or go short around the valley. We chose to start long, and ended up short.
The lower trailhead was located half way back to Georgia, but I didn’t mind the drive. The upper trailhead would take just as long to get to and it would involve having to get back up the hill once our explorations were done. I always like to start at the bottom so that the way home is downhill.
This is a valley of waterfalls. We had plenty to choose to from, so I planned a route that would hit as many as possible.
I did not find that evidence.
Not that I’ve ever been to Yosemite.
So perhaps I’ve set Yosemite standards too high. Or perhaps in the Ven diagram of the two, I simply hadn’t hiked far enough to reach the overlapping circles and was way off to the left, wondering what all the fuss was about.
Now please understand: Nature is always something to fuss about. I look forward to every footfall that doesn’t involve manmade pavement, and I appreciate the details of beauty that make up every glorious vista. But when you hear that something should be the likes of Yosemite…
I have been to the “Grand Canyon of the South” and having been to the western one, I can see the comparison. Certainly it was not miles upon miles of caverns etched through time and looking like a painting from the south rim, but it was a pretty cool canyon on a small scale in southeastern United States. I was impressed and entertained.
I will blame my disappointment of Panthertown Valley on my own expectations for Nature never disappoints, but I disappoint myself quite often. And I clearly had some pretty high expectations.
Tucker and I set ourselves up in a cabin in Fairview, North Carolina, just south of Asheville. On our first stop on our back-to-California-the-long-way-around trip, we had three full days to hike, write, explore, and rest. Panthertown Valley had gotten such excellent reviews, I chose that as our first hike. With concentric loop trails, we had the opportunity to go long or go short around the valley. We chose to start long, and ended up short.
The lower trailhead was located half way back to Georgia, but I didn’t mind the drive. The upper trailhead would take just as long to get to and it would involve having to get back up the hill once our explorations were done. I always like to start at the bottom so that the way home is downhill.
This is a valley of waterfalls. We had plenty to choose to from, so I planned a route that would hit as many as possible.
The first was Schoolhouse Falls. It reminded me of any other falls you’d see in Georgia or North Carolina. It was quiet with only a few people wading into the shallow, rocky waters.
Continuing along the trail, there were little sandy beaches.
And the canopy provided shade along the shale-lined trail.
Near the pinnacle of the trail (the upper trailhead) was an overlook. Tucker and I managed up the steep incline and took a sit for a spell. Those rocky faces on the mountainside is what makes my heart melt for North Carolina. That dichotomy of soft mossy top and sheer hard, solid surface are beautiful to me.
Even where we sat was ancient rock, accessorized here and there with a tuft of grass.
After enjoying the view, it as time to head back toward home on one of the loops that would take us downhill again. We would not go all the way to the upper trailhead.
I chose the almost-upper loop and down Tucker and I went back under the brambles.
I chose the almost-upper loop and down Tucker and I went back under the brambles.
The trail led to rocky slope and there… there I lost the trail. While Tucker often senses the right path, he sometimes does not. We tried my way then his way, then circled back. Here’s what ultimately happened:
The “trail” we had both missed was an almost straight down dirt path with tree roots as the only steps. There was a lot of holding onto trees (always asking their permission and requesting assistance.) If this is what Yosemite is like, then sure, it’s like Yosemite.
I prayed this was the right way because there was no way we would be able to get back up it. This was what it was once it leveled off:
I prayed this was the right way because there was no way we would be able to get back up it. This was what it was once it leveled off:
Much to my surprise, I finally heard the sound of water and the trail led us to a place we saw a waterfall below. There was a man fishing, along with a woman and her two dogs.
We stopped for a moment to enjoy the spray from this tucked away tiny private waterfall. It was only big enough for a few people.
We bid them farewell and continued on, the trail following the stream. Although it was hard to find, we came across a few spurs that led us to the water.
The only thing better than seeing a river on a hike is being able to stand in the middle of it without getting wet.
After our precarious jaunt downhill to get to Wilderness Falls, and the steep slope we continued going down, I opted to not take the wide loop back to our trusty steed, but took a shorter route.
But once again, we missed a turnoff… or took a turnoff that wasn’t a trail. It’s hard to tell, but here’s what happened:
Eight miles from the start, we arrived back at the parking lot, ready for a long nap. Maybe the view isn’t Yosemite but the backcountry challenge is. I can’t say. Tucker and I will just have to check out Yosemite for ourselves… although there’s not much for us to check out. Dogs are allowed on paved roads and on two hiking trails. That’s it. So I guess we’ll have to accept this as our Yosemite adventure.
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