I honestly don't know what's up with the National Forest Service. Because of downed timber as a result of two storms in April, they have closed the Sipsey Wilderness in Bankhead National Forest near Forkville and Rabbitown, Alabama. My understanding of a wilderness is that one gets what one sees. If a tree falls across the trail, the NFS is not going to move or cut it. It's a wilderness and whatever there is there. A wilderness designation by the NFS means that everyone hikes at their own risk. However, because of downed timber in the northern part of the Wilderness, the NFS has closed the entire wilderness. Even the trailheads that have no damage are closed.I left the house on Sunday afternoon planning to camp near a small waterfall and pool just a little ways up the Borden Creek Trail (FT 200) from the Sipsey Parking Area on CR 60--also called Cranal Road, which runs across the southern edge of the Wilderness. When I got to the parking area Sunday afternoon, I found signs warning that the Wilderness is closed to do "assessments" on the fallen timber in the northern part of the Wilderness. Dumb decision, if you ask me; but maybe they want to sell the downed timber or something ...
So, what to do as the daylight was on the wane ... I pulled out my trusty BNF map and looked on the opposite side from Sipsey Wilderness and looked at the eastern part of the NF area. I drove up Hwy 33 and turned down a dirt road that went through some private, backwoods properties and finally connected with a partially paved road. Since it was getting darker, I headed toward something that looked like a car-camping place near a lake. It was, indeed, a deserted NFS camp ground. I paid my five bucks and set up my hammock and fly as a few sprinkles descended. I climbed in my hammock about 8:30 wondering where I could go to find a good campsite in the backwoods.
Monday morning I packed up my stuff and studied my map while I drank coffee. The sun was bright, the morning crisp, and I was ready for an escape. I found a trail that descended through the woods down to a creek for about a mile and a half. Now, if I could only find the trail
head. After making a couple of wrong turns (the NFS road designations are sometimes confusing to old people) I finally found what looked to be a wide horse trail that had been graded and covered with hay. The hay had sprouted and the trail was knee deep. The Pine Torch horse trail was not too far away, so I figured that the trail must have been intended for a horse circuit. I hiked for probably three-quarters of a mile through the hardwood forest through the knee-deep grass. The deep grass ended at a turn-around and the forest opened up in a "forested section." These trees had been mostly cut, but not clear cut ... just thinned greatly. And, of course, all of the trash wood left from a cut forest. It was probably about ten or so acres of thinned forest. The hardwoods remained and some pines that were not deemed worthy of cutting. I hate places like that, but the ticks and other small critters probably love them.
After walking through the ugly remaining trees and trash wood remaining, I entered the woods trail that descended down over hard rock underpinnings with a pretty steep drop off on each side. The area was obviously a hiking trail on an old roadbed. The trail was pretty easy to follow, but since I wasn't sure where I was I left bread-crumbs in the form of orange surveyors tape on a couple of limbs down the trail. The timber cutters had left some blue tape to mark some kind of road or boundary, but my orange was a little easier to see if I had to hike out at night for some reason.
As I descended down the trail I knew I was getting closer to water and a place I could find and make my own for a couple of days. Near the bottom I saw a wide creek which I believed to be Brown (or Brown's) Creek. However, the banks were rather steep and I didn't want to have to stumble down a steep bank to fill my water bottles. I was interested where the old roadbed forded Brown Creek. The NFS or someone had put rickrack on both banks to help vehicles get a grip on the muddy sides. The bottom was sandy and shallow and obviously had been used sometime in the past, maybe logging, maybe to get to someone's private land.
When I used to hike around Fontana Lake in the southern edge of the Smokies I used to see places like that where people would drive back to their property in the 1920s and 30s. Occasionally, I would come upon an old 29 Ford that had been abandoned ... I once found two vehicles with trees growing up through where the engines had been, or through the trunks. I used to imagine that before the valley was damned to form Fontana Lake in 1944, mountain men would drive through those hills and streams to get to their moonshine stills.
Whether these old roads through the BNF had been used in the 1950s or 60s, I couldn't tell. Would love to know the history of the area. I did go by the old Pine Torch Church built in the early 1800s by "Scots-Irish and Indian ancestry mountain folk."
Anyway, when the old road went left across Brown Creek, I veered to the right along a small tributary until I got to a point formed by that small creek and an unnamed spring-fed stream. I decided to camp on the flat between those two small streams. The area was an old growth fir forest, so it had several very large fir trees that were perfectly arranged for an ENO rain fly and hammock ... not that I was going to need the fly, but just in case. I got my fly and hammock up and my pack unpacked with sleeping bag and Thermarest ... for the hammock. I'm a fairly new hammock sleeper (a year, maybe) and it took me a couple of trips to realize that I didn't need the padding of inflating the pad. All I needed was the insulation; and the pad stayed underneath me better when not inflated. I generally camp alone, so most of the stuff I know by either reading about it or finding out by trial and error. Also, since I generally camp alone, I haul way too much stuff out to the woods ... makes my pack way too heavy; but that's why I don't ever hike a long way.
After setting up my hammock so I could crash for a nap when the urge struck me, I went down beside the smaller of the two streams and began gathering rocks for my fire ring. I decided to put my fire ring about six feet from a smaller fir tree that would allow me to lean my Treker chair back and doze there, if needed. The small fir also had enough low limbs to hand my kitchen stuff around in easy reach. As you might deduce, when I get somewhere I'm going to fix everything where once I settle in I don't have to move too much to take care of business. I moved a large flat rock near the tree to have a cooking rock. Pretty soon I'd be able to sit in my Treker chair, lean back, heat coffee water, toss wood on the fire, and drift off into la-la land without expending too much energy. The perfect old man camping site!
Tuesday was another gorgeous day, so I decided to explore the valley. I was looking for a good bluff which would work during a stormy fall weekend if I got back out in November. For some reason I have two particular bluffs that I love to get under during stormy weather. I like bluffs big enough to sit and cook without getting wet. My sleeping stuff is all weather-proof, but I don't like to have to sit in the rain and cook, cook in the vestibule of my tent, or lie on my stomach in my hammock and cook under that fly. I went up the tight draw of another nearby stream and found some bluffs, but didn't really find one that would work for tent camping in bad weather. I could probably make a hammock work, but if the temp was really low, I would need the added warmth of a tent in December or January. I camped once at -15 when I lived in Colorado, but I was a lot younger then. The coldest I've camped in the deep south is about 12-14 degrees once in the Sipsey Wilderness, when the river froze during the night.
So, I explored bluffs, played around in the creek some, and photographed some wildflowers. Exactly the kind of day I look forward to when I got out in the woods. I returned to my campsite and took a nap ... I mean, what else do old people do on a lazy afternoon? The campfire Tuesday night was good, because the temp was down a little. I burned most of the wood I had gathered and cut. I didn't leave much for the next camper this time ...
Wednesday morning I woke early and began to disassemble my campsite ... always a sad event for me. I made certain my morning fire was completely out ... easy nearby water source for that purpose. I had a little more food and could have stayed another night, but I had some 'obligations' back in town. Isn't that always the reason one returns to civilization? Some will think me strange for wanting to get away to the woods with no others around. Some will think me strange for seeking the difficulties of carrying your "things" on your back. Robert Pirsig once wrote, "(What makes his world so hard to see clearly is not its strangeness but its usualness). Familiarity can blind you too." My personality seeks to flee from the usualness of everyday life ... to keep me seeing both the trees and the forest. I struggle to keep my mind from retiring along with my professional life, so I go to the woods and stay a few days with my own resources. Seems to work ... or maybe it doesn't ...
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