Sipsey Wilderness Hiking Odd-n-Ends

Recently, a fellow hiker wrote me to say, among other things, that I hadn't written anything in my blog since 2015. My response was that, besides being a lazy writer, I hadn't really had any new experiences in the Sipsey Wilderness. Since my first trip into the SW in 1995, I've hiked/camped there more than 70 times. I usually hike/camp alone and, in recent years, taken to hammock camping to shorten my back's warm up time in the mornings.

I love that wilderness area and try to camp there every month of the year ... except when it gets really buggy in July and early August. Lately, I've started trying to camp during the week instead of weekends because of the large crowds that gather there most weekends. One week my vehicle was only the second car at the Thompson Creek TH, and the other vehicle was that of a day-hiker. When I hiked out on Saturday morning there were 28 vehicles parked up and down the road at the TH. Some of the vehicles had horse trailers, so, though I had planned to hike up FT 208, I changed my plans so as not to have to hike in the muck left by the horses.

And speaking of FT 208, about half a mile up the old road, most of the road has slid down the hill with trees and soil. The last time I went up that way, you had to hike on that old concrete drain to get around the slide area.

Which leads me to another story ... One night when I was hiking in on FT 208, my headlamp reflected on, what appeared to be a big golden eye ... I mean, seriously, a big golden eye ... I crept closer and closer and it turned out to be a Whip-Poor-Will. He flew away, but I hoped he wasn't going to light near where I was camping for the night. Once over near Ship Rock I had to get out of my hammock during the night and throw sticks and rocks at a Whip-Poor-Will who was driving me crazy. He finally flew off far enough for me to get back to sleep.

LNT means everyone must pack out their junk ... I recently found two make-shift hammocks still hanging, full of leaves (so I know they had been there for a while), made from those 10X10 poly tarps you can buy at most big box stores. They had been hung with paracord and it took me a while to get them down without damaging the trees; and then I had to pack them out for the lazy coots who left them there.

Shocking information: soft drink/beer cans will not burn! Do not throw them in your fire ring and expect it to disappear. Why do I feel stupid saying that and then see so many drink cans in a fire ring?

Question: How does the NFS determine where/how many campsites to allow along the trails? One day I was leaning against a bluff enjoying the afternoon sunshine and the rent-a-rangers came along and rolled the rocks of a fire ring of one of the more popular campsites down in the creek. At another campsite just down the trail, they didn't disturb the fire ring and it was in an area with two more nearby campsites and it is an area the fire wood has been picked over terribly. The area looks like the woods around a shelter on the AT after the bubble has gone through. I can't think of a reason to destroy one site and leave another. Their logic eludes me.

Several years ago I bushwhacked up the tributary to Borden Creek--you know the one that everybody hates to cross on FT 200? I thought I went about a mile and a half or so up the draw and came upon the remains of an old moonshine still right by the creek. About a month ago I bushwhacked up the same tributary and couldn't find the remains of the old still. Curious, huh?

There is a campsite a couple of miles up White Oak Creek that the boy scouts used to frequent. I've been up there a couple of times over the past year and can tell that the scouts haven't been up there lately. It's a pretty good group camp site with lots of wood and right by WO creek. I guess the scout masters who knew how to get there have moved on. Too bad, because it's an area way away from crowds and a good place for scouts to earn a coup of knot-tying merit badges ... however, it is in an area with a lot of coyote traffic, so maybe the scouts got nervous and decided not to go back ...

Has anyone hiked all the way up FT 207? If you have, please leave me a comment and tell me how it was and if there are any good campsites along the way.

Later on ...

Random Thoughts on the Wilderness Experience

I saw a quote by John Muir the other day that really grabbed me. It was, 

"So abundant and novel are the objects of interest in a pure wilderness that unless you are pursuing special studies it matters little where you go, or how often to the same place. Wherever you chance to be always seems at the moment of all places the best; and you feel that there can be no happiness in this world or in any other for those who may not be happy here."   

A bluff near FT 206

 The part of the quote that says, "... it matters little where you go, or how often to the same place ..." is particularly meaningful to me because since 2007 I've camped in the Sipsey Wilderness in the Bankhead National Forest of north Alabama more than 50 times ... I've gone there in each of the 12 months of the year at temperatures between 14º and 97º ... and each time I go, I have a different experience; sometimes very memorable, and sometimes not so memorable, but always glad to be in the woods ...


I've gone by myself most of the time, but occasionally with groups--usually students. I took students in at midnight one night and asked everyone to turn off their headlamps and hear the thousands of night sounds. The students were in awe of the dark night ... that is, until a large barred owl roosting above us screeched like a banshee and flew off through the night. (I think some of them might still be screaming!)




Sometimes there are leaves on the trees and sometimes the hardwoods are barren. I think I love the woods more when there are no leaves on the trees, but when the wildflowers are blooming it takes my breath away because of their beauty. I see blooms each spring that I haven't ever seen before.


Sometimes it's pouring rain, and sometimes I have to work hard to fill my water bottles because it's been so dry. I have about five bluffs I like to camp under when I know there is rain in the forecast. I love to sleep in a tent or hammock in the rain, but cooking in the rain is sometimes too fiddly. Sitting under a bluff and watching it rain nourishes my soul and refreshes my spirit. 

Camping near Borden Creek

Sometimes the trails are cleared of blowdowns, and sometimes I have to scramble over, under, and through fallen trees. I once went to Big Tree and had to fight through a recent blowdown that was not fun to negotiate--remnants were still there months later. After the tornadoes of several years ago, the woods changed dramatically from all of the damage. I still struggle to see the beauty that existed on FT 206 years ago.

Waterfall on FT 209

Sometimes the trails are crowded with hikers and backpackers, and sometimes I've not seen a human the entire four or five days I've been there. One Sunday morning when I was hammock camping on Ship Rock I woke to a professional-quality baritone voice singing, "How Great Thou Art," and echoing up and down the Sipsey canyon. Once I ran into a couple of college students who were carrying their gear in big, black garbage bags because the owned no packs ... they thought they were lost, but they were only 100 yards from where they wanted to go. Once I ran into a little old lady who was trying to hike on every trail in the Wilderness, but had gotten lost when she missed a trail intersection. I was happy to set her on her way up 206 where it crossed the creek. She called me her trail angel.

Waterfall on FT 209

Sometimes I hike on well-maintained trails that have been cleared for horse-riders, and sometimes I bushwhack several miles to my campsite. Once I thought I would take a "shortcut" to my campsite and ended up bushwhacking an extra four and a half miles because I was on a bluff 300' above my trail and couldn't find a place to get down. I never feel like I'm lost in the Sipsey Wilderness because I know the map so well I can find my way back to a main trail or road from anywhere.

I've hiked into the Wilderness early in the morning, and I've hiked in after midnight. During the hot summers, it's much more pleasant to hike at night. I've bushwhacked through briars and deep grass, and I've bushwhacked with snow on the ground.



I've seen deer, feral pigs, snakes, mice, squirrels, and have had a pack of coyotes howl no more than 40 yards from where I was camping. I was frightened the first time I ran into a very large coal black feral hog--the kind with tusks and all--right on the trail I needed to go down. I've run into so many of them over the years that I've learned how not to surprise them and how to shout and scare them away--so far, a confident shout rules the day. 

Big Tree

Now, in all honesty, when I was sitting by my fire one night and an alpha male coyote howled the traditional wolf-sounding howl just 40 yards away, and then his little pack of five or six (it sounded like a dozen) took up the howling and yipping, I leaned up and put a couple of more sticks to build up the fire. I usually hear the coyotes up on the ridge tops, but they must have been hunting down by the river. It made the hair stand up on the back of my neck for a few minutes ... at first I thought, WOLF!, but then I thought, there aren't any wolves in Alabama (are there?). Coyotes are generally skittish and this guy and  his pack moved on down the trail. (And, yeah, you're probably thinking of the Stephen King novel ...)



On one two-day trip I saw four copperheads in the trail, but now that the pigs have gotten more numerous, the snake population is smaller, I think. (I always think of the snake-eating pigs in the book/movie Lonesome Dove.) I never kill any snakes I come across ... they help to control the mouse and frog population ... and copperheads are, for the most part, non-aggressive. Watching a snake once, I learned the snakes have a reverse gear in their crawling muscles ... I came upon a large black runner crossing the trail ...black runners generally don't do the zig-zag movement some other snakes to, but just move in a straight line (sometimes very fast) ... When I saw him moving across the trail I stopped ... he stopped ... then when I moved, he put his crawl mechanism in reverse and backed right off of the trail ... it was pretty cool ... except he didn't have the beeper to warn others that he was backing up ... 

I always take ear plugs when I go to the Sipsey Wilderness because the cicadas and tree frogs are sometimes so loud they keep me awake.



I continue to be amazed at the number of people who do not want any part of a wilderness experience. Me? When I get in the wilderness I always wish I had a sign to put up on a nearby tree that says, Home.

Spring Camping in the Sipsey Wilderness

I had listened to the weatherman talking about some possible storms for the weekend, so I thought, "What a great time to get into the woods!" Seriously ... I know some would think that is absolutely the best time to stay home, but I'm a little strange that way. The storms weren't due for until the next day, so that would give me a day to get to a bluff or a cliff overhang of some kind and be able to stay dry. Besides, some of the wildflowers would be blooming, so I really needed to get my lens to the woods to capture some of that wild beauty.

Since the next morning was supposed to be sunny and cool, but the rain was supposed to move in the next afternoon, I had the great idea to wait until my wife got home from work, tell her goodbye, and head to the woods for a night time hike-in. 

For some strange reason, when I know the trails I'll be hiking and I know in the general area I'll be setting up camp, I love to hike in at night. There is an added mystery to the woods hiking at night. A night hiker has to pick his/her steps a little more carefully, listen to the night sounds a little harder, and feel the comfort of what he/she cannot see in the surrounding woods. There are feral pigs, coyotes, a few deer, a turkey or two, and of course, opossums, armadillos, and always the sounds of owls declaring their hunting territories. I think the experiences and mysteries of the woods are illuminated by hiking at night.


So, I left the house about 6:00 PM or so and arrived at the trailheads of FT 208 and FT 206 about 9-ish ... a perfect time to begin a trek into the Sipsey Wilderness. I needed a base camp and knew of a little bluff down the trail that would give me some shelter if the rains moved in the next night, so I headed that way. I stopped a couple of times along the trail and turned off my headlamp to marvel at the beauty of the forest at night. It's amazing how some of the landmarks that are so familiar during the day look entirely different at night. I found my landmarks and after negotiating a creek crossing or two, arrived at the bluff which would be my home for the next three nights.


I contemplated building a small fire in a fire-ring, but decided to spend my time setting up my camp. I pitched my MSR Hubba-hubba and thought about not putting on the fly so I could see the moon and stars which were glorious. However, since the late night weather was a little iffy, I decided just to put on the fly and roll back the vestibules. I love to lie in the mesh tent on a crisp, clear night when I can see the sky. One of the great things about my trips into the Sipsey Wilderness with its steep walled canyons is that I can usually find a bluff large enough to sit under and cook. I have no problem pitching my tent out in the rain, but I prefer not to have to arrange some type of shelter under which to cook, or, even worse, to cook under the vestibule of my tent. Thus, I usually have in mind a bluff or two I can get to for a base camp. I can think of seven or eight bluff overhangs where one can seek shelter from a storm. I'm sure there are many more.

It didn't take me long to snug my down bag around me and fall asleep. I had on some new down socks I'd just purchased, so my toes were warm. I had on my little fleece hoody, so my ears were warm. And I had on my favorite Buff, so my head was warm. The sounds of the nearby creek were my "white noise," and I knew I'd sleep soundly. I'm sure I had a smile on my face when my eyes closed for the night.

The next morning I awoke with the sun shining on my tent. It had been after midnight when I'd finally crawled in my tent, so I slept later than I usually sleep back in the world. It was crisp and sunny and an ear worm of Willie Nelson's "Good morning, America, how are you?" boiled out of my brain as I looked at the woods for the first time in the daylight. Good grief, it was all green. (Well, duh! I had last camped before anything had leafed out, so the spring colors were new to me there.) The woods look so luscious in the spring when I've been camping all winter with bare trees. 

Ah, camp coffee on a beautiful morning. Does it get any better?. I quickly fired up my Soto Regulator stove and had water boiling quickly. After savoring half a cup of Via I pulled out a breakfast of eggs, ham, and various peppers. When I opened my little cook kit box, I was shocked to see that my spoon was broken. Granted it was a 15-year old polycarbonate that had seen a lot of trips and scooped a lot of meals, but I still had never thought about it breaking (unless I stepped on it or something). I always thought that polycarbonate stuff was virtually unbreakable. Anyway, I struggled to eat my breakfast holding the fat part of my spoon with the tip of my thumb and forefinger and knew that I didn't want to eat like that the next three days. Something had to be done ...

My cooking area under the bluff

Okay, so I had to be my own MacGyver and make a spoon from something I had available. After looking around at my stuff, I decided to take my hiking water bottle--actually a 20-oz green tea bottle that I carry on my pack strap--and cut it to make a spoon. I really didn't want to tear up something that would cost me to replace, and I had several other bottles back in my camping gear tub. I cut and I trimmed and I tried it out. I trimmed again and tried it again. Finally--tah-dah, I had something that would work to eat the remainder of my meals without dumping most of it on my old grey beard. It wasn't beautiful, but it would work to shovel some food into this old mouth.

My MacGyvered spoon

After breakfast I decided to take a wee walk in the beautiful sunny and clear morning. A few wildflowers were blooming along the trail, though I had already waited too late to catch the flame azaleas. The mayapples were not yet blooming nor were the trilliums. I don't know the names of many of the wildflowers, but I do love to look at them. I guess I should get a Wildflowers of Northern Alabama book and take it to the Wilderness with me, but that may be too much information for my old brain.

Afternoon brought increasing clouds and I thought the rains were on their way. However, it sprinkled for about ten minutes, then stopped. I spent most of the afternoon trying to pull some dry wood up under the end of the overhang so I could have enough for my evening fire. I don't have to have a fire, but I do love one when I can build one. 

For the evening meal I pulled out my WhiteBox alcohol stove and decided to heat my supper water with it. I hope to section hike on the AT in a couple of months and I'm still trying to decide whether to take my Soto Regulator and a couple of canisters or my WhiteBox stove and a bottle of alcohol. So, for base-camping when I only hike in a couple of miles, I'm hauling in both to play with. I have a 1.5L MSR Titan titanium pot in which I boil, and I eat in the nestled 1.0L titanium pot. It works out well, but I can't decide on which stove I like best. I have figured out that the alcohol stove takes just under two oz of fuel to bring the l.5L to a complete boil (in warmer weather), so I can figure out how much alcohol to take for the number of meals I have to prepare. The 1.5L is a lot of water, but I have enough for a freeze dried meal, a hot cup of tea/coffee, and enough to rinse my eating pot. I've also figured out that one small canister of fuel will produce a boil six times for my 1.5L pot (in warm weather). I am NOT going to carry both on my section hike, but I have yet to decide which to carry.


That night the temperature was considerably warmer, so I wouldn't need quite so many layers in which to sleep; but the warmer weather portended of things to come. After I fell asleep I was awakened by someone shining a flashlight into my tent ... wait ... no, it was not a flashlight. I was awakened by the sounds of a foraging feral pig about 20 yards from my tent, but sounded as if he was chomping on the rain cover on my pack. I was  pretty sure he didn't have a flashlight, and, after yelling at him to get away from my stuff, I realized that the light was actually lightening coming in from the west. The lightening got closer and the thunder rolled up and down the canyons of the Sipsey Wilderness. I lay there and watched and listened to about 45 minutes of lightening and thunder followed by a brief shower ... and then it was done. The next morning I could tell that it had not rained long, but the completely overcast sky told me that the rainy weather was probably not over.

I cooked oatmeal that morning and ate with my new spoon. After scraping the corners of my mouth for the tenth time, I decided to trim the spoon down a little more. I had trimmed it the night before, but had not quite gotten it where I wanted it.

I took a couple of hikes that morning and afternoon, but didn't get too far from my camp expecting the rains to begin at any time. I camp a lot and always read the forecasts before I hit the woods, but because predicting the weather is not an exact science, I've tried to learn to read the weather better, but I don't seem to be having a very good record. I would have taken bets that it was going to rain several times that day--and it did sprinkle a little--but the storm that I had thought was going to come in never came through.

Dinner that evening was country music on the iPod, chicken fajita wraps with some fresh jalapeños, some good Tillamook Extra Sharp Cheddar, and some strong lemon zest tea ... and, at a break in the music, I sang the Jalapeño Chorus, thanks to Handel's composition which I once sung, and I could almost heart the harmony part. Fortunately, no one was around to hear it, but I may have served to scare the pigs away. I wished I had had something sweet for desert, but I hadn't planned well for needing sweet after a Mexican dish. I had also wished for an adult beverage, but because the Sipsey Wilderness is within the Bankhead National Forest where they frown harshly on such things, I didn't pack that in ... however, I could almost imagine the taste of a margarita or a glass of sangria. Too bad they don't make exceptions for old men camping by themselves ... what could it hurt?

It was really muggy during the night and I woke up to a couple of long rolls of thunder up the river canyon. It rained sometime during the night but was not raining when I woke up. After a breakfast of Four-Cheese Potatoes with lots of jalapeño bacon bits, I started to gather things together and pack up for the trip out. Just as I was struggling to get my tent fly folded the sky opened and the flood began--just in time for the hike out ... well, that's spring camping in most of the country.

I got my gear packed up and thought about sitting under the bluff for a while to see if the storm would blow over. The thunder and lightening had started up again in earnest and I was a little concerned about using my trekking poles on the hike out. Oh, well, I thought to myself, the Sipsey Wilderness isn't the worst place I could think of to get zapped ... not that I was hoping to turn in to a crispy critter that day, but figured the lightening was more likely to hit one of the hundred thousand oaks, hickories, magnolias, or pines which were way above my head, so I headed out to my car. It rained most of the way and as most backpackers know, when it rains while you're hiking you're either going to get wet from the outside or from the inside, if not both. Fortunately, I had brought dry clothes into which to change and drive back. Once on the way out when the rains let up a little, I pushed the hood on my jacket back and looked back on the forest behind me and thought, Wow! God really did well in dressing up this forest! Its beauty almost takes my breath away.

Bushwhacking to a new area (for me) in the Sipsey Wilderness

I had been reading some posts about the Clifty Creek falls area of the Sipsey Wilderness so I decided to try to find a base camp site and the falls. When I got out of my car mid-morning on a Monday, it was still raining, but not pouring. I had driven in the Bunyan Hill Road entrance to the north end of FT 200, where the bridge crosses Borden Creek. There is a gate at the bridge, so I parked my vehicle along the road with a couple of other vehicles. After changing from driving shoes to my hiking boots and getting all of my rain gear on--no small feat in a Miata--I headed up FS 224, formerly known as Bunyan Hill Road. Water was running down the gullies, so I had to be careful not to overtop my boots in the mud. That trail is also a horse trail, and since the horse people usually ride on weekend, this Monday's trail was severely mucked up.

After I had hiked up the trail a couple of miles to just east of the intersection of the FS 226 (old Cullman Motorway on some maps) where, judging from my GPS, the bushwhacking would be mostly downhill to where a feeder stream enters Clifty Creek. The first couple of hundred yards of the woods was thick with briars and blowdowns, so I had to be careful not to tear my pack cover. The going was slow and the briars were nasty. As I got to the feeder stream and the little valley began to widen out, the valley floor opened up some to make the traveling easier. The stream was pretty and growing from the rain and I soon came upon a small waterfall that was about ten feet high. After getting a photo there I worked my way along a steep hillside and down across the creek.

As the stream got even wider, I hoped that I was on the side of the stream where I could find a good campsite, because the farther down the valley I got crossing the stream was going to be problematic after the amount of rain that was still falling. Fortunately, I crossed to the south side of the stream before it got too wide and before I encountered another feeder stream coming in from a little valley to the north. Even in the rain the streams were beautiful in sight and sound. I love to find a campsite near enough to a stream to hear it running noisily throughout the night--doesn't everyone? And as these streams were growing from the rains, I was going to be able to hear running water from almost anywhere in the creek valley.

And because the rain was still falling, I began to look up on the sides of the bluffs to see if I could find a space large enough to get out of the rain for my cooking and relaxing by a fire. I had studied my GPS and topo maps and the area looked promising for a bluff. I can pitch my Tarptent Rainbow on almost any small level space, but I prefer to find a bluff under which to sit when I cook. Always more pleasant that way. I was prepared not to find a bluff, however, and wait out the rain in my tent if necessary. The forecasts had predicted an end to the rain late that afternoon and it did seem to be letting up a little.

I followed the feeder stream down to where it intersected with Clifty Creek and found a nice level campsite with lots of room for a group to camp--plenty of fairly level tent sites; however, I wanted to find a bluff if I could and began to backtrack up the draw to find an overhang large enough under which to sit. It was still raining and I was beginning to get wet inside my rain gear--which is usually the case, as most backpackers know. After about half an hour I found an overhang up the hillside. There was a good place for cooking and a great place to build a fire. Then I began looking around for a place not too far away to pitch my Rainbow. Well, that was going to be a problem ... the hillside in front of the bluff dropped down pretty steeply and the only place I could find was under the drip line of the bluff. I didn't really want to climb in and out of my tent with the bluff dripping on my vestibule. Then I remembered that I had brought along my 9x9 Noah's Tarp, so I pulled it out and strung it between two trees and pitched my tent right in the (former) drip line. Now I could get in/out of my tent without being dripped on.

I followed the bluff around the side of the hill and was able to pick up enough dry wood to build a pretty good fire until I could dry some other wood. I stacked some of the wet wood around my campfire to dry. I pulled up a couple of flat rocks to use as a cooking table and I was set for the three days.

I had recently purchased a Platypus Gravity System water filter and I went to the nearby small water fall to fill up my dirty water bag. After filling it, I filtered my water into a clean bag and then refilled the "dirty" bag. It took only about three minutes to filter four liters of water into the clean bag, so I pulled out my second "clean" bag and filtered another four liters. Then I refilled my "dirty" bag and figured twelve liters of water would be way more than enough for the next three days. I probably wouldn't take the Platy Gravity Sys if I were covering the miles, but for a base camp, it was perfect! 

I spent most of Monday afternoon/evening getting my base camp fixed up just right and heard my stomach growling for supper before it got dark. I started my fire and opened my MSR Titan 1.5L cook kit with the 1.0L pot inside a DIY cozy. Supper was done shortly and I wished for a bag of wine, but sadly, had to settle for decaf Via and cool water. I pulled out my Kindle and read a few pages in a Jeffrey Archer novel and decided I would read some more in bed. I brushed my old teeth and made sure the remaining coals of the fire were covered with ashes so that I might find a red coal the next morning. I climbed in about 8:30 or so and read for another 30 minutes before realizing that my Kindle had shut off and was resting on my chest. I listened at the creek gurgling down below and heard a distant owl hoot, and don't remember much after that.

The critter's nest

While brushing my teeth down the bluff from my campsite my head lamp shined up on a nest of some kind. It was made of pretty big sticks and there was no evidence of bird poop around, so I figured it was a critter of some kind rather than a crow or other bird. I looked at the nest over the next couple of days and, although it looked as if some of the sticks had been rearranged and more had been added, I never did see or hear a critter. The nest wasn't the kind of nest a bird would sit on but one something would tunnel into. It had a small opening and was about five feet off of the ground, so whatever it was climbed up there to get in the nest. Of course, the critter may have been hunkered down back in the back side of the nest, asleep. I kind of wanted to know what it was, but at the same time, didn't want to disturb it enough so that it would leap out on my while I was brushing my teeth.

Tuesday morning I awoke to a cloudy, but not rainy morning. I stirred my fire enough to uncover some red coals and with a little blowing and some dryer lint was able to get my fire going without a spark from my flint/steel. I was definitely cooler than the previous day, but not so cold that I needed gloves.

I cooked some oatmeal and made some good, strong Via and sat enjoying the view from my little home in the woods. I love the adventure of being alone in the woods. I guess I'm a throw-back to older days, but I am rarely uncomfortable by myself in the woods.


Tuesday, I had decided that my main goal would be to find a better way to get out of the woods than bushwhacking back up through the briars and inclines. Across the feeder stream by which I was camping I spotted some red markers tied on to limbs. These markers seemed to be marking an old road of some kind. Over the years I have found that the Sipsey if full of old logging roads and sometimes following them has been part of an adventure. (Once I happened upon the remains of an old still.) I crossed the stream and decided to follow it west--and up--to see if it led back to old Bunyan Hill Road/FS 224. I followed the old road about a mile and a half and could tell that it did indeed work back to an intersection with FS 224. It was not a particularly easy road to follow, but I was easier than bushwhacking back up the creek ravine down which I had come. If you've hiked in the Sipsey Wilderness you know what kind of old road about which I'm referring. It's a leveled out roadbed grown over by 30 year old trees. The roads could never actually be used as roads anymore, but sometimes make it easier to bushwhack. I knew that I could get back to my car if I followed Clifty Creek to an intersection with Brazeil Creek, and then Braziel Creek to an intersection with Borden Creek, and Borden Creek back to the bridge, but I estimated that to be about 4.5 or more miles, and I wanted to shorten my trip and experience a new part of the Wilderness.

After satisfying that I could follow the old road back to an intersection when I hiked out Thursday, I followed the sounds of water down another ravine to see if there was a waterfall there, but only found a noisy series of riffles amplified by the walls of the ravine. It was a beautiful little area, though, unspoiled by any trails except those made by coyotes, deer, and pigs (ugh!). I often follow game trails when I'm bushwhacking in the Sipsey. Most of them are easier ways to get around the woods. 

Let me interject here that I often bushwhack in the Sipsey. I almost always carry a GPS with waypoints set for my campsite and my car, and I always carry a topo map should something not look right on the GPS. And I have a pretty good sense of direction and knowing where I am in relation to the streams and creeks. I study maps of the area I'm going to hike in before I ever set foot on the trails. I often have to re-orient people I run in to that seem to be confused about where they are. I ran into three college students once near Auburn Falls that didn't have a clue where they were and had been hiking around for a day and a half trying to find Thompson Creek--that was about 75 yards from where they were standing. I showed them on my map where they were and they thanked me and headed off ... in the wrong direction! Oh, well ... some people get more of an adventure than they signed up for.

Clifty Creek Falls

Back to my narrative ... I headed back to my campsite and established where I would cross the feeder stream to keep from crossing two feeder streams when I hiked out in a couple of days. I also spent some time--as I often do in the Sipsey--walking along the bluffs looking for a good campsite under an overhang. My current campsite faced northeast and I wanted to find one that faced southeast if I could. Should a really cold front blow through when I'm back down in this area next winter, I wanted to be more protected than my current campsite might be. So, it was late afternoon when I finally got back to my campsite and I spent the remaining daylight gathering wood for the evening fire the next couple of nights. During the summer I never build fires, but during the late fall through early spring, I almost always build a fire if there is a good place.

Tuesday evening and night were uneventful except I woke up cold during the night realizing that the temp was dropping more than I had anticipated. I had enough sleeping clothes and a warm bag. I just had to put on another pair of socks, pull my hoodie up over my head, and zip up my bag ... which I did and was quickly back to sleep.

Wednesday morning I again used a little dryer lint to start my fire, which I needed to warm up the morning as I fixed my breakfast coffee. Getting water for my coffee I noticed ice in the bottom of my Platy bags--not solid ice, but enough to let me know it had gotten several degrees below freezing.

After a lazy breakfast I studied my topo map a little to see if I could see an easy way to hike up Clifty Creek toward the falls at the end of a canyon. I couldn't see anything particularly inviting, so I just decided to follow CC up its west side to see how far up I could get. After a half mile or so, it seemed that I had stumbled onto an old road that paralleled the creek. I followed it for a while until it seemed to disappear where the side of the ravine had washed out, then followed a game trail. The sides of the creek's valley got more narrow and more steep the farther up stream I went, but the sound of water falling was getting louder. The first waterfall I spotted seemed to come into CC from the west side feed into the creek and there was still a lot of water coming down the creek past that waterfall. It was a beautiful waterfall, though, falling about 100 or so feet in a noisy drop. I wondered if that was the CC Falls I had read about, but it didn't much look like the pictures I had seen on a Sipsey Hiking Club blog. A little voice told me that the main falls were up the ravine some more, so I kept hiking. Hiking now was pretty rough because the sides of the valley were so steep.

As I hiked I suddenly realized that I was hearing a bigger waterfall, and then I saw the end of the canyon and a larger waterfall that I recognized from some pictures. I'm not sure it was any more beautiful than the waterfall I had first spotted, but there was a lot more water coming over it than the first one. As I pushed on around the end of the canyon trying to get a good photo spot, I spotted a third falls coming over the edge of the bluff. So, three waterfalls at the end of Clifty Creek canyon ... not a bad spot to have a little picnic. However, after looking for a place to sit and be able to enjoy some jerky and juice, I spotted a sunny spot with some grass ... however, it was on the other side of CC. Making my way over was an adventure, but with the help of some large, house-size rocks and a fallen log, I made my way across, climbed up the steep side of the ravine, and flopped down in the bright sunshine. Ah, what a day!

Eventually, though, I had to make my way back down the creek and up to my bluff home. My old legs had gotten stiff and it took a few minutes to scoot back down the sides of the ravine to the creek, get across the rocks and log, and back up to the game trail on which I had traversed to the three falls. 

Eventually, I was able to find the old road bed and follow it most of the way back down to where the feeder streams flowed into the Sipsey. Right at that confluence of the feeder stream and CC, the campsite there was inviting and I pledged to return in the fall before the cooler nights came in. I tend to camp at the lower elevations and bottoms of the valleys during the warmer climes and up on the hillsides when it's cooler and the colder air is settling in the bottoms of the valleys. I learned that by camping in Colorado when I lived out there.

Wednesday nights supper was very pleasant as I reflected back on my three water fall find that afternoon. I'm pretty certain that only during the wetter periods would a person find all three waterfalls flowing. If you want to see waterfalls in the Sipsey you have to go in the late winter/early spring or after torrential rains. A lot of the smaller falls don't do their thing in the depths of the summer. The past couple of summers even Thompson Creek has dried up. White Oak Creek stayed dry for a long, long time.

Thursday morning I packed up and headed up the old road bed I had checked out on Tuesday. It was a pleasant and easy hike winding up around the hillsides until I got just past where I had turned around on Tuesday. As the road got to the top of the plateaus that led to the ridge line of Bunyan Hill Road, I found hundreds of blowdowns and struggled to keep on the old road. The previous year's two storms and tornados had really done some work to the large trees. It was not easy going and I had to use my GPS often to keep heading toward FS 224. Eventually, after many, many extra steps, almost like bushwhacking, I found 224 and wasn't certain that the way out I had chosen was any shorter, easier, or faster than just bushwhacking back up the way I had come down. However, as I journeyed back down Bunyan Hill Road to my vehicle I saw a lone wildflower and was again reminded of the immense beauty of the Sipsey Wilderness.

Changing Weather in the Sipsey Wilderness

 I hiked into the Sipsey Wilderness on a Tuesday in shorts and a T-shirt in January. It was unseasonably warm, but my joints told me that the weather would be changing soon. I hiked in to a bluff where I sometimes camp when the stormy rains are expected. The bluff offers me a place to cook in the rain and a safe place from falling limbs and trees when the winds begin to blow. This bluff is particularly nice in that the fire ring is also under the bluff so I can build a fire during the rain. The problem with bluffs in the SW when it is unseasonably warm is that they tend to drip from condensation--usually right on my bald head. So, when I got to this bluff I hung my footprint over my cooking spot to keep the dripping off of my head.

The Sipsey Wilderness has a lot of bluffs, some large enough to pitch a tent under and some just large enough to bivouac under in an emergency. I've found about five or six that are really comfortable for a multi-day trip. I'm at the age now that I enjoy hiking in a few miles (usually less than five), setting up a comfortable camp, and day-hiking around the wilderness to explore.

On this Tuesday, I drove into the Thompson Creek TH about 10-ish and headed toward the bluff, arriving about an hour and 20 minutes later. After I had cooled off some and hung the footprint over the rock I planned to sit on, I went to the nearby creek for water. Most of the time during the winter, I don't carry a filtering system because I have to boil the water anyway and it will quickly cool in the winter weather. While my water was boiling, I set up my Rainbow TarpTent. After I boiled some water, I made some black bean soup that I had ordered through Mast General Store. Pretty tasty, but needed a jalapeño to add a little heat. 

 After lunch I had two choices: take a nap or hike. I decided to do the latter, since rain was predicted for the next day, I might not get to hike much. I hiked down the White Oak Creek valley and climbed upon a couple of rocks that offered me a higher view of the creek valley. The Sipsey Wilderness is a beautiful area and I always enjoy hiking and looking at the terrain during different seasons. Actually, I've gotten where I enjoy hiking in the winter more than any other season in the deep South. It's less buggie and, because the leaves are off the hardwood trees, one can have an mildly obstructed view of the terrain.

 

After a brief foray down the trail and back, I decided to take that late afternoon nap after all. I dozed for an hour or so, not wanting to spoil my sleep for the night, then got up to think about a fire and some supper. I had camped under this bluff about a month earlier and cut enough wood to give me a good burn for the night. Some of the wood was still in long logs that I had dragged up, so I had to saw some fire-length sticks and quickly got them piled up by the fire ring. I read a quote the other day that said something like, "Early Americans cut wood to keep their fires going and stay warm. Contemporary Americans stay warm by cutting wood for their fires." It's true! Anytime I'm out on the trail and I get a little chilled, I get up and saw some woods. It's always good for getting the body's BTUs up. Because not a lot of campers come up in the area where I was camping, there is generally an abundance of downed wood to cut for fires.

And speaking of fires, I normally start my camp fires with lint balls with some paraffin dripped them. My flint/steel generally can get the lint burning after only two or three sparks. After the paraffin starts burning, I pile on some ends of dead fir branches--something I call spider webs because of their size. However, in this camp site, there is only one medium size fir tree anywhere around, so I generally have to forage for dead wait-a-minute vines which work almost as well, although sometimes tough on the hands when gathering them. Over on the east end of the Wilderness, near FT 200, there is an abundance of fir trees, so I never have to stress over fire starter. There aren't many on the upper reaches of White Oak Creek.

I started my fire, got my water boiling for my supper, and sat there loving solitude the woods and the wilderness. Almost exactly when I was thinking about solitude, from less than 50 yards away an alpha male coyote howled. It sounded just like the traditional howl of a wolf that you've heard on the National Geographic channel. I don't think there are any wolves in north Alabama, so I'm pretty sure it was a coyote. I have heard coyotes in the SW before, but usually up on the ridges at night. Anyway, this alpha male let out a long, low, and very loud howl. As soon as he had finished his howl, about six or so others began to howl and yip. They sounded like females and young pups--not like the alpha male. I wasn't especially frightened because I was pretty sure they were coyotes and not wolves ... but just to make sure, I put another couple of sticks on the fire to build it up a little. I also thought about what I would do if I looked out over the fire and saw a dozen or more eyes glowing in the night ... 

I'm pretty sure the alpha coyote smelled my fire and decided to gather his pack before heading up the trail. I never heard anymore the rest of the night. Maybe he was gathering his pack to get somewhere protected before the night time storm rolled in. I see signs of pigs all over the SW, but haven't paid much attention to the signs of coyotes. So many people bring their dogs on the trails in the SW that when I see dog-type prints and scat, I assume it's domestic dogs ... but maybe not. Coyotes are usually skittish and don't come around where humans are, but get braver and less reserved the more humans they are around.

Sometime during the night the wind started blowing horrendously. As I said, I wasn't worried because I was under a protective bluff. Then about 6:30 AM, the rains and colder winds came in. Comfortable in my tent, I was in no rush to get up. After about three hours, I got out of my tent to see if the rains had diminished or stopped. When one camps in the forest it's sometimes difficult to tell whether the rains have stopped because of all of the dripping off of the trees and rocks. The rain had stopped ... the dripping continued for an hour or so.

One thing I always look forward to when it rains and storms in the Sipsey Wilderness are the changes in the creeks and rivers. White Oak Creek is fed by enough smaller streams in the valley that it usually gets up in a hurry. While eating some oatmeal, I sat and listened to the ever increasing roar of the waters. I have seen the Thompson Creek, Borden Creek, and the Sipsey River get out of their banks, so I'm always conscious of where I camp when the forecast is for rain. 

I love to go out when the creeks are up and take photos of the changes. 

After hiking around for a couple of hours admiring the beauty of the fast-flowing streams, I made my way back down to my campsite to cut some more wood for the evening. I could tell by the clouds and wind that the weather wasn't through putting on a show, so I figured that I would need some more firewood for the night.

After a filling supper of beef stroganoff and some hot tea, I through some more logs on the fire to see if I could coax the coyote pack to come up and join me around my warm fire. They didn't seem to be interested in joining me, so I turned on a few tunes on my phone and stared at the fire for a while.

About 9:00 or so, I noticed that it was raining ... only the rain didn't sound like rain. I pulled up my hood and walked out from under the bluff to see beads of ice bouncing off of my sleeves. It wasn't raining, it was sleeting. After letting my fire burn down, I decided to brush my teeth and turn in. 

The next morning was sunny and warmer, so after some granola and a couple of cups of Via, I packed up and started my hike out. Hiking out is always a time when I reflect on my trip and decide what I want to do the next time I come out in the wilderness -- because there will always be a next time.

Wildflowers of the Sipsey Wilderness

These wildflower photos have been taken over the past four or five years around on the Thompson Creek, Ripey, Rampart, and Sipsey River trails. The flowers are most beautiful in April, but can be found earlier and later if one looks carefully.