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 ...

White Oak Creek Hollow, Sipsey Wilderness - November 2009

The weather was a little iffy, but I needed to get out of town, so the drive to the Sipsey Wilderness didn't seem like two hours. I left Friday afternoon, knowing that I would hike in after dark, but knowing that I didn't have far to go for my Friday night camping spot. I was aiming for a spot right next to White Oak Creek only 20 or so minutes from the Thompson Creek trailhead. When I arrived at the trailhead, there were only four vehicles, so I was pretty certain that those people would be over by Ship Rock or somewhere near the Sipsey ripples where the most popular campsites are.

However, as I approached the campsite on White Oak Creek, wouldn't you know that I spotted the campfire and a blue tent in that campsite. Consequently, I retraced my steps about 100 yds and went up in the woods to find a soft spot for my tent. One of the nice things about winter camping is that the woods are free of all of the undergrowth that discourages one from seeking a campsite in the middle of the woods. I found a soft spot in the leaves, pitched my tent, ate a sandwich that I had brought, brushed my teeth, and turned in for the night. It was only 10:30 or so, but I fell asleep almost immediately. Coming in, I had heard the coyotes howling over on the south side of the river, but by the time I got in my tent, I heard only a medium sized owl beginning to hunt for supper.

Saturday morning was crisp and clear ... a gorgeous Sipsey winter morning. When I got out of my tent, I chuckled to find that I had pitched my tent on a perfectly soft spot in the woods with two marshy areas on either side, right outside my vestibule. I didn't get out my Jetboil, deciding that when I found my weekend spot, I would heat water and have some coffee as a toast.

Since I was intending to stay three more nights, I was determined that there surely must be an overhanging bluff along White Oak Creek that would afford me shelter if the predicted rains arrived. I put water and snacks in my fanny pack and set out up the hollow to find the magic bluff. I had to circumvent the blue tent (still asleep?), so I went up the side of the bluff a little and found an old road that paralleled the creek. I always wonder when old roads were put down and what their purpose had been ...

About a mile up the hollow I found the perfect bluff. T

here was an old fire ring, but I didn't think the campsite had been used for years. I was perfect for staying dry while doing the campsite things, and with a little work, would even hold my tent from getting soaked in a storm. While I was looking around to see where to set up all my stove, etc., I saw a pile of porcine excrement, so I named the area "Pig S_ _ _ Bluff" ... and an editorial comment: sooner or later, the Forest Service is going to have to let hunters into the wilderness area to kill some of the feral pigs --

they are destroying many trails and spoiling some campsites. Last June I saw five piglets and a sow. If the sows are having two litters a year (minimum), then the pig population is increasing by leaps and bounds.

Anyway ... great place to set up my camp ... I quickly went back down the hollow to fetch my equipment and ferried it back to PS Bluff ... I was set for the weekend.

Since rain was predicted for Saturday night, I spend the better part of the afternoon gathering firewood (fairly dry) and pulling some logs under the bluff. I travel with a folding saw, so I would have an abundance of wood for the night's fire. There was a small stream about 30 meters from my campsite, so I began filling water bottles. While taking care of that, I made a pot of coffee and toasted my new living quarters.

Saturday night--or, rather, Sunday morning about 3:00 AM, it rained for a bit. I love to be in my tent sleeping when it rains ... something about the comfort of dry hearing the rain pelt down on the fly. As I said earlier, my tent was mostly under the bluff, so I only had rain on the outer edge of one of the vestibules, not on the tent itself ... but the sounds of rain falling in the woods is comforti

ng to me, also. By the time I got up Sunday morning the rain had stopped, but the sky was completely overcast ... still drizzling some, but not much. I was glad I had moved some firewood under the bluff.

About 9:00 AM I decided to go on a little walk. I had been up the unmapped White Oak Creek Hollow Trail going to Big Tree once, but was not sure which trail it connected with (in fact, my wife and I stumbled around in the woods on that ridge for an hour before getting my bearings and connecting with the shortcut to Big Tree. My plan this Sunday was to go up behind me and connect with FT208, follow it northeast until it connected with the mystery trail, connect with the top of the WOCH trail, and come back down to PS Bluff ... that was my plan ... uh, didn't quite work out like that ...

My problem was that I've been in the Sipsey Wilderness so many times that I get fooled into thinking that I know my way around like I know my neighborhood where I live. Well, my GPS told me that I was just south and east of FT208, so I headed up the bluff behind me ... and that was a correct estimation ... took me only a few minutes of bushwhacking to get to 208. I turned right and headed northeast on the trail to connect with the mystery trail that connected to the WOCH trail. I was strolling along 208 and saw a guy getting out of a 4- or 6-man car-camping tent--out in the middle of nowhere ... he surely was not by himself, but one never knows ... when I got to the intersection of FT208 and (maybe) FT223 (which goes north), I continued on 208, and shortly came to the intersection where FT224 goes to the right. WHAT WAS I THINKING??? I was wa-a-a-ay passed the intersection I was looking for ... way east of where that intersection might have been ... way passed any right-thinking person's plan to intersect with the mystery trail ... and to make matters even worse--without consulting my map, which I had in my fanny pack--I intersected with FT204 and turned on it ... Again: what was I thinking??? (or, maybe, more correctly, why wasn't I th

inking?) ... After a way down 204, I descended to a bluff where four guys were camping ... I asked the opening question, "Y'all get wet last night?" The pointed to several tarps and said that they had stayed reasonably dry. I said, "Where am I?" They pointed off the bluff at the tops of some trees and said, "There's Big Tree." And, sure enough, it was ...

Well, I had "overshot" my trail connections by about two hours and four miles ... okay, it was only noon, and if I went the long way, I could be back to my camp before dark ... I checked my GPS and saw that sunset that day was a 4:43 PM ... and remembered that, as I packed my fanny pack for the "short hike," I had packed rain gear, snacks, and water ... but no headlamp ... I mean, it was 9:00 AM when I packed ... okay, I was not in a panic because I knew that, ev

en if I had to sleep in the woods, I would survive ... uncomfortable for a few hours--but I would not die. And, so, with those realizations, I decided not to go back the long way, but to find the shortcut up West Bee Branch canyon and come out right beside the top to WOCH trail ... that is, IF I could find the West Bee Branch trail that I had come down one time about six months earlier ... "No sweat," he said ...

After bush-whacking for about two hours and trying to follow a fairly constant elevation, I saw a trail on my GPS ... and that trail led to the top of the WOCH trail (I had fortunately set a waypoint there on a previous trip). About 4:15, I finally arrived at the waypoint, but couldn't see the trail going down the hill ... kept looking ... kept think ... and finally saw a few footprints that could mean a trail ... after about 30 meters or so, I was sure I was on the trail ... meaning that I would not have to spend the night in the woods ...

I dragged into my campsite about 4:55 and my dogs were barking. My GPS said that I had hiked 13.1 miles ... and since much of that was bush-whacking, I knew they had reason to be tired. Another Sipsey adventure, and -- Hey! that's what gives us material for stories, doesn't it?

I went to bed early and got up Monday to another cloudy day ... it cleared up a little in the afternoon and I went up WOCH far enough to find a good summer campsite ... near a little waterfall ... marked it in my mind for warmer weather. Ate well and slept well Monday night and woke up to a clearer day to pack out ... I was sad to leave my little home at PS Bluff ... it had worked well, but would be there another thousand years. I figure I will be back before it goes away ... don't you think?

Sipsey Wilderness - September 2009

Another trip into the Wilderness on a not-so-perfect weekend ... however, it was either get in the woods or losing what little sanity I have left in my old head. I checked out of the office a little early and headed up to north Alabama to a familiar campsite. The forecast for the weekend was rain, and when there's a forecast of rain, I generally head to a large bluff down the Thompson Creek Trail (FT 206). I happened on this bluff in March of 2008 and have made it my weekend home four times. It's large enough to pitch my tent, cook my food, relax in my Trekker chair, and has a nearby water source. I have been there in storms and even my tent didn't get wet except for a little moisture that dripped from the ceiling of the bluff.
I got to the Thompson Creek trailhead about 4:30 and while I was packing up for the trip, began to notice an older blue pickup with a tarp on the hood and some other gear hanging from the rearview mirror. As I crossed the bridge over Thompson Creek, I noticed clothes strung out on a tree that had fallen over the creek and some stuff down on a rocky area on the up-creek side of the bridge. It was obvious to me that someone had gotten soaked with all of his/her gear and was trying to dry it by hanging it out. Unfortunately, the sun was not shining through a very overcast sky.

The trail was pretty muddy and I could tell that the Wilderness had experienced a torrential rainstorm the night before. The trail was wet enough to believe that the storm may have continued into the early daylight hours. About three-quarters of a mile on the trail, I met a guy carrying a plastic grocery bag full of water bottles and other gear and three long twigs or vines.He and I stopped to chat. He asked if I knew the weather forecast. I had checked in Haleyville and reported a 30% chance that night and a 50% chance on Saturday. I asked if the gear hanging out to dry was his. He said it was. I said that he must have gotten really soaked. He said that he had. He liked my pack cover (I had put it on rather than chance having to stop on the way in and put it on) and said that he needed to get himself one.

We didn't say much more, but I supposed that he had been camping the night before and had endured one of those blowing torrential rainstorms that come up and down the Sipsey valley and had gotten really soaked. I imagined that he hauled his heavy, rainsoaked gear out to his truck earlier and had gone back in for some things he left. He didn't look as if he were having fun camping.

I got to the bluff, set up camp, and fixed my beef stroganoff for supper. It hadn't rained on me yet, but I was ready for it. Water was dripping over the edge of the bluff and I caught enough to fill two water bottles for the next day. I have a SweetWater filtering system, but on short hikes I usually just boil my water to kill the critters.

The night was uneventful except for the humidity, which was oppressive. I took my lightweight bag, but a sheet over my pad was sufficient until early in the morning.

Saturday morning I decided to hike around to where FT209 crosses the Sipsey ... been there many, many times, but I always hope to see a pig or a flower or a bird (or once a guy with the world's longest dredlocks). I hiked around the end of The Rock past the riffles and on down to the 209 marker. The sky was overcast, but it never rained on me. Going, I went around the end of The Rock, but coming back I climbed through the backside of the Eye of the Needle, just to vary the trip.

The afternoon was spent reading Ruben Abel's Man is the Measure for a class I'm teaching and dozing in my comfortable Trekker chair. I hoped for a storm, but got nothing. The night wasn't really cool enough, but I was determined to have a small fire, so I cut some old blow-down limbs and such for a small fire. I had to sit back a ways because it was too warm under the bluff.

Sunday morning I packed up and headed back to my vehicle. I noticed a tent at the campsite at the bottom of the Auburn falls creek. Somebody had packed in a four-man carcamping tent and pulled a cube cooler on wheels (I'll let you think about that for a while and draw your own conclusions). I also passed two girls and a guy with five large, wet dogs. The dogs were having a good ol time in the woods, but I wondered what kind of vehicle they would have to load those big wet dogs up in. The guy in the blue truck was still there. I noticed a New York license plate and wondered what he was thinking about the Alabama wilderness.

A moore-or-less uneventful weekend in the wilderness. Just what I needed!