For my second hike today, I wanted to hit the final of three monadnocks on the southeastern side of Atlanta. In the past several weeks, I've hiked Stone Mountain and Panola Mountain and today, I will knock out the third, Arabia Mountain. Next weekend, I'm doing a small organized event to summit all three of the features in a single day (which really isn't that big of a deal, as it will only be about 8 miles total distance) and I'd really like to have visited all three individually prior to the event.
It's a chilly, but beautiful Saturday and the parking lot at the trailhead is quite busy. After using the restroom, I try to get my directional bearings and head out. The early part of the trail is paved and seems popular among cyclists this morning. As I look for a left turn that crosses the highway, I never see it and so I'm forced to do the loop trail in a counter-clockwise direction instead of clockwise as I had originally planned.
The paved trail does eventually cross the highway and on the other side travels a half-mile or more along a board walk, which skirts the granite mound that is Arabia Mountain. While I do appreciate the beauty of this area, I'm a little perturbed by this boardwalk. I see no reason that a normal trail couldn't have been blazed here and avoided this monstrosity. That seems to be a running theme here in the east; the need to construct stuff along trails just for the sake of constructing stuff. I much prefer the more natural settings of the west to this over-developed outdoor attitude.
After reaching the end of the boardwalk, the trail takes a sharp left and begins heading up the mountain. Concreted cairns mark the path and signs ask hikers to avoid the areas with water and sandy soils to avoid destroying the flora that thrives in them. This includes a species known as diamorpha, which at this time of year appears as short flesh stems poking out of the thin soils to cover the mountainside with patches of brilliant red. These fragile plants are very susceptible to trampling, thus the warning signs.
Reaching the top of the mountain, whose summit is a meager 955', I take a minute to admire the view from up here. With extremely few trees growing out of the granite, the wind blows hard and cold up here, but I like it. It's kind of refreshing.
I start to head down the mountain, trying to stick close to the trail marked on my map and avoiding the soiled areas as much as possible. Unfortunately, I struggle to find the connecting trail and I'm forced to bushwhack a short distance through the woods before finding the connecting trail that leads back to the parking area. I was able to get in just over 2.5 miles on this trail. I'd love to have more distance, but with other plans today, I'll settle for what I can get. Besides, this was actually a pretty nice hike.
It's Leap Day and I have a buddy from Reno visiting this evening, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't get some trail miles in this morning. The East Palisades Trail traverses the rolling hillsides above the Chattahoochee just inside the perimeter. While there are a couple of different trail heads, I start at one that requires me to drive through what appears to be a rather wealthy neighborhood before approaching the parking lot on a one-lane gravel road.
The trail immediately enters the woods and start descending down to the river. Unfortunately, the trail builders decided to building those retaining steps that we're all familiar with. I'm not a fan of these types of steps as I hate steps on a trail to begin with and more importantly, the only thing these things retain is rainwater. As the 'retained soil' of each step is nothing but a muddy mess, I'm forced to traverse much of the down hill on the lumber used to construct the steps. Finally though, I reach a section where the trail-builders decided to leave well enough alone.
Reaching the river, the trail follows alongside for a distance before heading back uphill. I had read of a bamboo forest somewhere along this trial, but after searching a few spur trails, I decide to give up on finding that this trip. Perhaps, I'll return at some point. However, one of the spurt trails does lead me to a deck overlooking the river from far above. It offers a great view of the river valley carved by the Chattahoochee.
After taking in the view for a couple of minutes, I return to the main trail and head back to the jeep. I was able to get in just about 2.9 miles on this trail and I'm not done just quite yet. I have a second trail in mind this morning.
Continuing my theme of trying to get some trail miles in before work during the week, I decided to hike to the Indian Seats on Sawnee Mountain this morning. Unfortunately, traffic was a bit worse than I had expected and I don't have enough time to get hike the 3+ miles of that trail and instead resolve to hike a side trail that has been decorated by a local girl scout troop.
The Fairy Trail is just a short loop on the side of Sawnee Mountain, but to brighten it up a bit, the scouts have placed colorful bird houses and other small containers that could be used has fairy dwellings along the path. It's a pretty simple idea, but it doesn't really do any damage to the landscape and gets people on the trail. It's actually a pretty cool idea.
After walking the short trail, I had back to the jeep and get on the road. Unfortunately, I've got to start work soon, but it was still nice to get some sun before spending my day on conference calls. I'll come back and hike to Indian Seats in the near future.
With spring arriving soon and more daylight to work with each day, I'm going to try to get some short hikes in through the week when my schedule allows. To start this trend, I decided to hike the Settles Bridge Trail this morning before work. This is a short trail along the Chattahoochee that visits a long abandoned and now dilapidated bridge.
The trail starts at a well maintained community park on a paved path, but after passing a dog park, the trail transitions to soil and with all of the recent rain, it's a little soft in places. While spring is on the way, we're still in the throws of winter and the dense deciduous forest is still in hibernation, which allows some nice views.
Knowing that to reach the bridge itself, I need to be watchful for a small spur trail that will lead direction to the bridge and I finally see it. This path is much less traveled and significantly muddier than the main trail. It also requires me to do some rock hoping to cross a small tributary creek. No big deal though and it certainly adds some character to this morning's adventure. After just a couple of hundred yards, the remains of the steel bridge become visible and I make my way to the base of the structure. The road that once cross over the bridge has fallen into non-existence and the all that remains of the bridge itself are the base piers rising from the river and the steel gutters forming the frame of the bridge. The floor has decayed away.
After leaving the bridge, the trail follows along the river for a while before hitting the mouth of that creek I had rock-hopped over a short time ago. Of course, it's much deeper and wider here as it merges with the Chattahoochee. I'm forced to backtrack a short ways until I find another crossing point. From here, I continue back to the parking lot and head home. Time to start my workday, but at least I was able to get in about 3.5 miles in this morning.
I had hoped to get another good hike in today, but with the day getting late, I'll have to put that off and settle for exploring an urban curiosity near Hiawassee Georgia. At the top of Bell Mountain, the city has constructed an observation deck and over the years, the boulder piles that make up the top of the mountain have become a mecca for graffiti.
The road leading to the summit parking area is very steep and only single lane, but that's why I own a jeep. Unfortunately, I can only go so far today. The park's gate is closed to vehicles from about a half mile from the summit. A number of other cars have parked here and I find a spot to park as well before heading up the rest of the way on foot. It's a very steep road, one of the steepest paved roads I've ever been on and is certainly making for a good workout.
Finally arriving at parking area at the top, I begin to take some pictures of the graffiti-covered landscape. Unlike other areas that I have visited, there isn't much art here. It's much more of people painting their names and such. There are a few colorful sections, but overall it has the impression of a post-apocalyptic wasteland. I don't mind graffiti on man-made things such as the Krog Street Tunnel, but seeing this vandalism on natural surroundings like a mountaintop is disheartening. Signs indicate that painting is prohibited, but seem to have had little effect.
As I climb the steps to the observation deck, I'm a little surprised to see cars now starting to fill the upper parking lot. Another visitor mentions that the gate has been opened. Well, that's irritating after walking up this steep behemoth. Oh well, I needed the exercise anyway.
My next stop for the day leads me to one of the many waterfalls in northern Georgia, Helton Creek Falls. The road approaching the waterfall parking area turns from pavement to gravel and soon becomes pretty rough and as I approach a low area, I'm a little surprised to see a creek flowing over the road. It's only about eighteen inches deep unless my eyes deceive me and while flowing well, doesn't appear hazardous in any way. My jeep makes short work of it as it climbs out of the other side.
As I continue a bit further, I encounter a couple in a Grand Cherokee cautiously staring at a second creek crossing. This one appears slightly deeper than the first, but again doesn't seem like too much of an obstacle for my jeep. I power through it without issue and soon arrive at the parking area above the waterfall.
Exiting the jeep, I encounter a young couple in a sedan and as we chat, he mentions that he nearly submerged his car in the creek and was afraid it wouldn't start. About that time, the Grand Cherokee pulls up and joins the conversation. They comment that I probably had no issue with the creek in my Rubicon and I nod in agreement. Before leaving, the young man mentions that the waterfall is quite stunning.
While its only a short hike down to the creek in the ravine below, the heavy rains have made the trail something of a muddy mess. Retain steps only worsen the situation by acting as pools to hold the muddy rain water. I maneuver and finally make my way down to the lower of the of two waterfalls. I'm able to climb down some steps and onto a damp rock just beside the creek with the waterfall pouring over a well-worn stone embankment. Oddly, it hits the creek and what was an angry waterfall almost immediately turns into a clam creek.
Further up the trail, an observation deck has been constructed to look out on the upper waterfall. This one flows more vertically over a cliff and drops probably about sixty feet before entering a large pool and continuing down to the lower fall. It's quite a site and definitely worth the trip. Besides, I always enjoy letting my jeep do jeep things.
Between the combination of a nasty cold and an excessively wet winter, my hiking has been somewhat limited over the past several weeks, but as today is supposed to be a nice sunny day, I'm going to take advantage and get out on the trails. First stop - Mount Yonah. As I'm starting to explore more and more of northern Georgia, which includes the southern end of the Appalachians, I'm enjoying the hiking and the scenery more and more with each outing. Yonah is located about 80 miles northeast of downtown Atlanta and rises to 3,166' above sea level.
It appears temperatures dropped below freezing overnight and I'm forced to scrape my windshield before departing. The drive is uneventful, but there is definitely a chill on the air when I leave the house. As I near the mountain, I can see it rising to tower over the surrounding landscape. A number of sheer cliffs are visible on the southern face. Arriving at the popular trailhead, I find a parking spot and immediately head into the woods along the well worn path. I understand this trail is fairly steep and I'm looking forward to a good workout.
Passing through the woods, the route begins to gain elevation almost immediately, gently at first, but definitely getting steeper as a proceed. With all of the rain a number of small streams are carrying water down the mountain and a small bride has been placed over one of them. With winter entering its last hold on the land, the trees are still barren of leaves, but will be showing signs of budding in the very near future.
The hillside has a number of large boulders scattered about and as the trail follows a several switchbacks, I pass between some of them. It's actually quite pretty here, even without the green foliage. At least the cold temperatures are keeping the bugs away.
Eventually, I reach a fork in the trail and my map indicates that a loop is formed up to and then coming down from the summit. I opt to go counter-clockwise, which takes me near some of the tall cliffs I saw on my approach. Apparently, this is a popular destination for rock climbers, as I see several on my way up the mountain. Most appear to be setting up to repel down these cliffs. There's also a thin sheet of ice covering some of the stone surfaces that make up much of this part of the trail. It's pretty slipper, but I'm able to find enough footing to pass safely. It is interesting to stop and watch the water trickle underneath the thin ice. Quite magically in truth.
Finally arriving at the top, I'm somewhat surprised to see a bald clearing. Surrounded by trees on all sides, but only short grass covers the actual summit area and a couple of families have decided to use it for a short break. I, on the other hand, head off in a couple of different directions to take in the view. In the distance, I can see the beginnings of the Blue Ridge, which heads several hundred miles north and which I intend to explore later this year. Unlike the Sierras, it's difficult to not see signs of human development on the landscape, but from up there, it doesn't diminish the beauty.
After just a few minutes, I head back down the trail completing the loop I saw on the map. As the ice melts, the trail gets a bit muddy and even more slippery, but I've got pretty sure feet and arrive back at the jeep without any issues. Total distance was only about 4.4 miles, but with a steep 1,450' of elevation gain between the parking area and the summit, it was a good workout.
Today may be a tale of two waterfalls. Having just visited the commercially protected and impressive Toccoa Falls, I've driven another fifteen or so miles to another waterfall in the area. Minnehaha Falls flows out of the mountains of northern Georgia and feeds the man-made Seed Lake. To get to the falls requires a drive down a rough and narrow gravel road alongside the lake, which seems to be populated by rather expensive homes. Once at the trailhead, I'm forced to maneuver the jeep to find a reasonable parking spot, as there are few other vehicles parked here. A quick change of shoes and I'm off.
The short quarter-mile trail starts with a steep wooden staircase up the hillside, before following a well-worn dirt trail deeper into the wooded hillside. Along the way, a number of small waterfalls carry a raging creek down the hillside. After a short distance though, I reach the primary waterfall, which is very impressive. The water cascades down 100' feet or so over a series of regularly placed natural steps. As water passes over the falls, it fans out and becomes wider at the bottom than at the top, before taking a quick turn to pass beside a naturally convenience viewing area. As opposed to the impressive Toccoa Falls and its "visitors center", this is a much more natural setting, which I greatly prefer.
Since moving to Georgia a few months ago, I've been surprised by the number of waterfalls in the area. While some are minor and none rival those in Yosemite Valley, there are several that are very impressive in their own right. One such waterfall is Toccoa Falls, on the campus of a small college named for it, just outside a township also sharing the name. On past trips, I have attempted to visit this waterfall, but the college periodically closes access to the falls for various reasons. The entire idea that a natural wonder can be "closed" is very dis-heartening to me and seems so counter to my idea of these sites belonging to all people, but regardless of how I personally feel about it, I'm bound to the rules of the college. Today, I will finally be able to see this impressive fall.
The college limits access by fencing off the trail and forcing visitors to pass through a visitors center and pay a meager two dollar fee before proceeding up the walking path just a couple of hundred yards to one of the more impressive waterfalls I've seen since moving to Georgia. With the high precipitation levels the area has received this winter, the flow over the falls is quite stunning today and unlike many waterfalls in the area, this is not a cascade, but a single drop of about 185'. The sunlight reflects off of this falls misty bottom to create a rainbow effect on this bright day. It's a very beautiful setting.
I had planned to rise early this morning and run a 5k downtown, but feeling under the weather a little bit, I ended up skipping the run, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to get some exercise. One of the Meetups I've been hiking with had planned a moderately long hike an hour or so north of Atlanta on the Jake Mountain trail system. The group met at the primary trailhead, which seems extremely popular today and then we carpooled a couple of miles on Forest Service roads to a less popular parking spot.
From the trailhead, we headed off on the Yellow Trail, which is one of about six different options on this trail system. The twenty or so hikers seem to all be moving at about the same pace today, which is a nice change. As we hike, I begin talking with a couple of my companions and we enjoy some interesting chatter about the woes of the corporate world.
We quickly encounter the first of what will be two creek crossings on today's trek. As I'm leading the pack at the moment, I visually check the depth and decide to just walk right across. My shoes end up a bit wet, but it was only about four or five inches deep. Reaching the other side, I wait for some of my companions to remove their socks and shoes, wade across, and then put their foot gear back on.
As we continue down the path, we encounter a number of other side trails and forest roads, but Charlie, the group organizer has a pretty good idea of where he's going and we follow his lead. Besides, we're in Georgia and there isn't anywhere that is more than a day's hike from civilization (as far as I've seen in my short time here). Eventually, one of the roads we take opens up into a large grassy meadow and from here there doesn't seem to be a trail leading out. No worries, we have map, compass, and GPS, we'll bushwhack a bit.
I do always the challenges of off-trail navigation and this is no exception. Between, Charlie, myself, and another experienced hiker, we lead the group toward what we are pretty sure is the trail. Though the other gentleman and Charlie seem to disagree a bit on the proper course of action, we have faith in Charlie, since he has hiked and biked this area extensively. We make our way through the woods for a good hour or so, with a vague idea of where the trail is and eventually stumble across our second creek crossing. This one is a little more precarious and between the three of us navigating, we set up a sort of bucket brigade system of supporting hands and arms to help the other group members across the running water.
After we cross and climb the next hill, we arrive at another forest service road. One of the gentlemen I had been talking to at the beginning of the hike seems to have gotten frustrated and takes off on his own, telling some others that he was going to head back to the cars. Ah well, good luck.
Finally arriving back on the Yellow Trail, we make our way back towards the cars, but Charlie mentions a small man-made lake over the next ridge. Three of us decide to head that way to see the lake, though it will add a couple of miles, while the remainder of the group wants to end the day. The lake itself is nothing special, but as a cool wind blows over and creates ripples in the shallow water, I find myself glad of tacking on the additional distance.
We quickly turn around and head back to the cars. Total distance for the day is nearly 10.4 miles. Not a huge hike, but certainly one of the longer ones I've done since relocating. I need to find more like this.
Having recently moved to the Atlanta area, which is many times the size of my former home in terms of urban sprawl, I've decided that is appropriate to incorporate more urban hikes and explorations into my adventures. One such site that caught my attention is the Krog Street Tunnel, known locally for it's graffiti artwork.
Google maps lead me astray when trying to find the tunnel. The directions given by my mobile app would have had me driving through a restricted-access construction zone. After some review, I finally figured out a better way to get to the tunnel and was able to find parking just a few meters away from the southern entrance to the tunnel. It seems this is a popular area for runners and bikers, as I am passed by numerous of each during my short visit and walk-through.
The tunnel itself is a pretty standard traffic tunnel under a larger road. There are two traffic lanes, one going each direction and separate by a series of concrete columns in the center. On each side, there is also an elevated walking path, separated from traffic by another set of columns on each side as well as a steel barrier. The tunnel is only a hundred or so yards long, making it a very short walk. However, what makes this a special place is the artwork. Nearly every surface in the tunnel is covered with spray paint graffiti, including much of the floor and ceiling.
Layer on top of layer of spray paint has been artfully added here to create some outstanding, and in some cases, bizarre images. It reminds me somewhat of the Donner Train Tunnel, that is far more remote than this place, which is in the middle of the city. I recently read that some organization tried to sell tickets and hold a festival here celebrating the artwork a couple of years ago. The community artists were very much against someone else making money on their creativity and painted over the works present at that time, ruining the event. Since then, the walls have been recovered with colorful graffiti. I can't say I blame the artists. It seems they want to leave their gallery to the public free of charge.
