Sipsey Wilderness - May 2009

The goal for the weekend was to hike the East Bee Branch trail up to Big Tree and the falls behind it. This time I did not have a goal of having an easy, relaxing weekend. I knew the weather wasn't going to be wonderful, and it wasn't -- but it could have been much worse. Hiking in the Sipsey Wilderness during the late spring/summer/early fall is always going to be less than wonderful weather-wise, will always be buggy, and will make one glad that we have at least two seasons in the Wilderness. However, let me hastily add: being in the woods is sometimes more of a challenge than at other times, but it is always better than being back in the office taking phone calls.

I left Columbus after work on Friday and headed to northwest Alabama into the Sipsey Wilderness. I can usually count on a two-hour trip unless the traffic between Columbus and Vernon is thick. I opted for Plan B ... the "rain expected plan." I was going to go to the Rippey trailhead (Plan A - FT201), which would save me about 20-30 minutes, but not knowing how high the Sipsey was, and knowing I'd have to cross it, I decided to go in north of the Sipsey in via the Thompson Creek Trail. (As it turned out, I could have easily waded the Sipsey at the FT209 ford.)
The disappointing part of my decision was that I wanted to camp someplace different and closer to the Bee Branch-Sipsey confluence, but opted for the bluff near Auburn Falls in order to avoid the rain when it came. (I have now named that place Tick Bluff for obvious reasons ... the tiny critter season is in full swing. I am a 100% DEET user, though, which keeps the ticks and chiggers to a minimum, but my wife believes that the DEET has--as advertised--effected my brain functions ... others will vouch that I've been this way since long before the DEET era.)
I checked into Tick Bluff before dark and enjoyed a nice supper of beef stroganoff. I got in a little meta-cognition exercise time, so it turned out to be a productive evening. Because of the heat, I opted for no fire -- which I rarely have during the summer months, even though I love the idea of sitting be a campfire at night.
Saturday morning I slept late and, after wonderful coffee and blueberry granola, headed south east by the river for a rendezvous with the Big Tree. My GPS said it was about three miles to the Bee Branch, and judging by the time I walked, that seems accurate. I passed five college-aged backpackers when I got down to 206 when they stopped to wade in the Sipsey ... or something (didn't want to stare, but they picked a less than desirable spot just to look at the water. Maybe they were filling water bottles or something ...) When I passed the riffles around the end of the Needles Eye rock there were four guys in two tents camped there; and, once again, one of the tent-masters had pitched his tent on sand with the footpring tarp hanging a foot outside of his tent fly ... doesn't make sense to me, but maybe he/they like to sleep in a wet tent floor, or maybe he has his floors all seam-sealed and tested for leaks. Somebody please explain that to me ... maybe he had the floor of his tent sprayed with that rubber coating they use in the bed of pickup trucks ... whatever ... and maybe they were experienced campers that know something about camping dry that I need to learn. Anyway, two of the guys were fishing while two prepared the fire for a late breakfast ... hope they brought something as a backup.
Nobody was camped at the cave bluff between the FT209 ford and Bee Branch, so somebody could make that a dry camp when the rains came. And maybe it wasn't raining yet, but I got just as wet, because, buddy, it was humid. I don't know all of the outdoor tricks to predicting weather, but that was a pretty good sign that either a big rain was coming, or had just passed. I had not believed it to be quite so humid when I started and had only a 20 oz water bottle. I should have had a big one.
When I got to the Bee Branch confluence into the Sipsey it was too high to jump, so I went 50 yards upstream to the tree crossing. In case you haven't been there, this is a tree that has been used to cross Bee Branch for a number of years. It is flat on top and easy to balance on, even for a sweat-soaked old codger in muddy boots.

The east Bee Branch trail is a mess! It is a total mess! The short trip up to Big Tree took much longer than is should have because of all of the downed trees across the trail. I met up with some guys who had day-hiked from the Thompson Creek TH up the White Oak Hollow trail and around to the Bee Branch Ridge Trail (I think that's FT204 or something). At least one of them was very familiar with the east Bee Branch Trail and said it was the worst he had seen it in years. One huge beech tree and all of it's limbs had fallen across the trail and I elected to go up and around the stump. That was more of a diversion that I had thought it was going to be, and it took me longer than I had though it was going to take. I decided to climb through the mess on the return trip to, at least, make the trip shorter.

Big Tree was still there ... and the two waterfalls were both flowing over the edge. The five guys had me take some pictures of them reaching around the tree; and I got them to take a picture of me standing in front of the thing. I ate some gorp and a powerbar and decided to head on back. At the big beech tree covering the trail I met the four campers from the riffles area asking me how to get around/over the mess on the trail. One of them had on sandals, so I gave them both options. Shortly after I saw them, I passed one of the five college-aged guys asking if he had missed Big Tree. I pointed the way and gave him a brief lesson on the trail mess he would soon encounter. He didn't seem as if it were a big deal, so I said good luck and headed back to the Sipsey.
I was dragging a little on the return trip. The humidity was getting worse and I was running low on water. There were several tents at the big campsite near Bee Branch. A couple or three guys with single person tents ... They had evidently hiked in that afternoon. When I passed the big campsite at end of the point near the confluence of the Parker and the Thompson, I counted nine or ten tents and a big tarp ... a pretty large group about to get very wet. The four guys near the riffles still had their footprint sticking out from under their fly, so they were about to get wet, too. Hope their seam-seals held.

Got back to Tick Bluff and drank 64 ounces of cool water ... didn't have more purified, so couldn't do more then ... was really dehydrated. Finished off a bag of hickory-flavored jerky ... um-m ... so good after a long hike. About 3:30 PM or so the storm moved in ... and it came with a furry. Not as much wind as I've seen before in the Sipsey, but enough to bring the rain down furiously. The rains continued diligently for about two hours. Of course, sitting under my dry bluff I couldn't help but think about the people in the ten tents. I've been there before (many years ago at camp) ... everyone sprinting for their tents when the rain begins, trying to find someone enjoyable to spend some quality time with -- or, if you're an introvert like me -- trying to make sure you get your tent zipped up before some yada-yada person gets in with you for hours. The rains came down and sounded soothing. I sat in my Trekker chair for some time until my head snapped back ... at that point I gave up and headed for my tent for a late afternoon power nap.

Supper that night was a Polynesian Chicken with Rice ... or maybe something else Asian ... don't really remember ... not wonderful, but satisfying. I was intending to build a little fire for the cooler evening, but with the very hard and long rains, a small drip appeared on the roof of the bluff and dripped right into my fire ring. Certainly a helpful thing if I were going to bed or leaving the campsite, but a little frustrating that my stack of wood would go unused. Actually, I had left that stack of wood when I camped in April, so I didn't really spend any time cutting and breaking for the fire. And, actually, the evening had not really turned off as cool as I had though it would when the hard rains were falling, so the fire was not terribly missed. It will be there when I camp there again ... or for the next camper who stays under Tick Bluff. (I received a small thank you note from the ticks who had made their nest in the cut wood stacked up by the fire ... and I returned the favor by taking a small tick home with me on the under part of my arm below my elbow. However, he died an inglorious death in the swirling waters).
I slept a little more soundly Saturday night after the long hike, but still work up around 6:00 AM Sunday morning ... too early for a camper who doesn't sleep late most Sunday mornings. After another granola and grits breakfast, I cleaned up most of my gear and began repacking my pack. I couldn't really tell whether or not it was sprinkling, but I knew I was going to get wet from the overhanding brush along the trail, so I put my pack-cover over my pack and hiked out in my rain jacket. The trip out is always slow -- sometimes I really hate to leave the beauty and solitude of the woods.

Sipsey Wilderness - April 2009

Okay, I know I'm in a rut, but I couldn't help myself ... on a Friday afternoon in April, I headed out into the Sipsey Wilderness (and I know no one but me ever reads these things,but it helps me remember what I did when--you'll all understand when you get old ... oh, wait, I'm the only one reading this, and I AM old ... whatever ...). Storms were being predicted for the area, so when I got there I didn't find but one other car at the Thompson Creek trailhead. It was a pickup parked by an older Alabama couple who was dayhiking. I passed them a little ways down the trail and my load got heavier when they commented on how much stuff I packed in ... I crossed White Oak Creek, which wasn't as high as I though it would be, and started looking for the flowers. The couple were on their way out ... and soon I would be alone in the Thompson Creek area of the Sipsey Wilderness ... doesn't get much better for an old backpacking introvert.

As soon as I got out of my car I noticed the purple violets in the woods. I had thought that I was too late for the wildflowers, but maybe I was going to catch them on the tail end of the season. I kept my camera up front and headed out when I got packed. (I don't think I've said in my other posts, but I drive a Miata that won't hold my packpack when it is loaded, except strapped in the passenger seat. Most of the time I just load up the little trunk and passenger seat with my loose gear and load my pack when I get to the trailhead. I'm less likely to forget something if I throw everything in the car.)

But I digress ... (well, DUH -- I'm an English major!) ... I wasn't far down the trail until I started to get into wildflowers. I found both the purple and white varieties of the purple wakerobin, sometimes called Stink Willie, because of their smell. Both were abundant through the early part of the trail between White Oak Creek and Auburn Falls. I think these are trillium varieties in the lily family. I got some shots of a Longspur Violet (even in this picture you can see the long, slender spur that comes up from the back.) These delicate looking violets were growing along the trail, usually against some of the larger boulders.
Because the weather was heading toward the watershed, I decided to camp under a bluff near Auburn Falls. I figured that I would be able to drag in some wood before the rain set in and thus have a good fire at night. The bluff is fairly large--as you can see in the picture--and provides enough space to pitch a tent, build a fire, and cook, all out of the elements. There is even a small water trickle off the cliff above where one can catch water to cook with. I have camped under this bluff before, once arriving in the middle of the night; but today I would still have enough daylight to find some firewood for the night. The bluff isn't easily seen from any of the trails, so not many have camped there ... meaning, there is more firewood than is found around the more popular sites. The area around Ship Rock is pretty well picked clean by this time of the year.

Oh, and I might say that there must have been thousands in the Wilderness during spring break. All of the trails were worn more than I usually see them. Perhaps too many people are learning about the wonderful places to camp and hike in the Sipsey Wilderness. Several trees had fallen since I was there in January, and new trails around the fallen trees had been well-worn, indicating the number of people who had hike there. I surmised that several of the spring break hikers had been women, because most of the logs crossing the trail were gone around instead of over, indicating shorter legs.
I tried something a little different this time as to my sleeping arrangements. Usually, I pack in my REI Quarter Dome and zip in secure from the critters that will bite and sting during the night. This time I took the footprint and the fly for my tent, but took my bivey sack and a lightweight sleeping bag. Although rain was predicted, the temperature would never get below 40 degrees. That arrangement worked well for comfort, but I came out of the woods with several bites on my arms from sleeping with my arms outside of the bivey sack and sleeping bag. The bloodsuckers evidently were looking for early season feasts -- and found some. No bigness, though ...

At 1:40 AM I was awakened with a huge clap of thunder ... evidently, I had slept through the coming storm, and it was now on top of the Wilderness with all its fury. I lay awake listening to the thunder and watching the lightening flashes for a while. The were loud and bright, but I was safe and dry up under the bluff ... pretty neat watching the lightening flashes and knowing I was safe from their lethal work. I drifted back to sleep and was awakened at about 3:00 AM with another, stronger storm. The lightening was closer and very, very bright through my tent fly. I fell back asleep listening to the rain coming down hard.

When one gets in his 60s, one finds that he doesn't need as much sleep as he once did. I usually sleep about five and a half or six hours at home and I'm done ... wake up knowing that I won't get back to sleep. I guess when I'm in the woods, I'm overtaken by the peace and tranquility and I often sleep eight or nine hours. I had gotten in my bag about 9:00 PM that night and I slept until 7:00 the next morning. Unbelievable! ... and wonderful to wake up without an agenda.
After breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, I decided to take a little hike around the neighborhood. It had stopped raining before daylight, so the sun was out and, though it was very humid, it was just right for an old man to take a hike. I decided to walk down to where FT209 crosses the Sipsey, which would take me by Ship Rock/Eye of the Needle, the west end of The Rock, and by the riffles where many I camped the first time I came to the Wilderness in the 90s.

I walked around the end of The Rock and came to the camping area by the riffles ... a very popular place to camp because of the soothing sounds of the water going across the rocks in the Sipsey. There were two tents in the sand ... two tents with clothes lines between every tree around the campsite. On these lines were everything--and I do mean EVERYthing--owned by the campers. They had gotten soaked! I don't think they came in during the night, so they must have gotten soaked during the early morning storm. I immediately noticed why the campers in one of the tents had gotten soaked. They had put a polypropelene ground cloth under their tent with about six to twelve inches of ground cloth sticking out on the outside of the tent fly. In other words, every drop that had poured off of the fly had been caught by the poly sheet and channeled up under the tent ... and they were camped on very absorbent sand! Go figure!! I kind of felt sorry for them, and I kind of didn't ... nubie campers who had learned a hard lesson ... only maybe they hadn't learned it, because they hadn't tucked their poly sheet under the edges of their fly.

Okay, this story is going on too long ... I returned to my dry campsite about 1:00 PM, ate lunch, sat in my chair under the bluff, and watched another storm blow through the Sipsey watershed. I wondered (not long, but a few minutes) about the folks down by the Sipsey ... were they getting soaked again? It got so dark during the storm that an owl thought it was dusk and began to fly up and down the canyon hunting for his/her supper. Sitting in the dry watching the pouring rain is very peaceful. The trees were beautiful as they swayed back and forth into each other. More water poured over my little falls, and I contempleated the fate of the earth.

The last night was a good one ... a warm fire, a good meal, good company (remember, I'm an introvert, so the company of my thoughts is always good), and a warm, dry place to sleep. I did some reading in a Greg Isles book before turning out my light, but mostly I just lay there thinking about how much I love the Wilderness and the quiet.