Fort Massac (Massac County, Illinois)

Fort Massac is the remains of the reconstructed structures of a French colonial and later early National-era fort along the Ohio River near Metropolis Illinois. And since it was on my route home as I drove between St. Louis and Atlanta, I had to stop and check it out. Though there may have been a Spanish fort nearby as early as 1540, the actual Fort Massac was built by the French in 1757, during the French and Indian War. Apparently, it was destroyed by the Chickasaw sometime after 1763 and rebuilt by the early American Troops in 1794. Today, the site is recognized as an Illinois state park.

Parking my car near the visitors center, I make the short walk out the the reconstructed structures of the 1794 site. Several wooden buildings stand here today as their counterparts must have over two centuries ago. As I walk out towards the Ohio River, I notice the raised ground and mote-like fortification of the actual fort aspect. This includes the very common and highly defensible corners where cannons could get a wide sweep of the land surrounding the fort. I walk around this area a little bit before heading back to my car and continuing my journey home. While not much remains of this historic site, it's always interesting to visit what does.

Stonefort Trail (Jackson County, Illinois)

I'm always on the lookout for interesting historical, geological, and archaeological sites in my travels. As I was planning a trip back to my hometown, near St. Louis, I stumbled across information on the Stonefort Trail. This is remnant of an ancient rock wall atop a bluff in the Giant City State Park of Southern Illinois. Archaeologists are unsure of the exact purpose, but they do not believe it was defensive in nature. Regardless, it seems just the kind of interesting site that I want to check out.

After parking my car, I start the short hike up the bluff along a cascading stream. The trail is well marked and once I reach the top, I'm struck by the wall, which was obviously a human construct. While much of it has been destroyed over time, long sections still remain and seem to create a defensible barrier facing the forest, while the tall bluff we're atop provides a very likely unclimbable barrier to any attacking from that direction. For whatever the evidence that the experts have relied on to move away from the defensive structure theory, I'm not convinced. This is one of the best fortified areas, I've ever visited.

While I would love to stay and explore more, I still have several hours of driving and one further stop to hit before I make it home. This was only a short hike of 0.4 miles, but a very interesting one nonetheless.

Snake Road (Union County, Illinois)

My next stop along this long drive home to Atlanta from St. Louis takes me to the infamous Snake Road. I don't recall where I first learned of this place, but since it was only a few miles out of my way, I decided to pay it a visit and see if it lived up to it's reputation. This gravel road sits in the flood plane between the Big Muddy River and the continuation of the bluff system that continues north. From my reading, many snake species can be found crossing the road here during April and October as they move between the wetlands of the flood plain and the higher ground of the bluffs. 

The road is closed to cars during these periods of high snake traffic, but a small parking area is offered at the northern end and the signage indicates that foot traffic is welcome. I leave my car and begin my trek, with eyes scanning everywhere for any dangerous species, which will likely include water moccasins and potentially copperheads and timber rattlers. I'm sure there are many more non-venomous species in the area as well, but I'm less concerned with them.

In the distance, I see a couple walking the road ahead of me and take note of where they stop along the way. While I don't see any snakes right away, I am enthralled by the beauty of the area. It's just a nice forested gravel road, which seems to be pretty well maintained. I'm sure it's a popular spot for people to hike given it's reputation. 

As I continue scanning either side of the road, some areas of which are stagnant ponds of river overflow (very "snaky"), I fail to see any of the slithering residents. I eventually catch up to the couple and we chat briefly. Apparently, they had seen a large water moccasin on a log in one of these areas, but after taking a couple of pictures, he swam off into the brackish water. I wish them well and continue south.

I climb over a couple of small inclines, but eventually decide that I need to head back and hike back the way I came, still on alert for any legless visitors. Once I reach my car, I'm thankful to have arrived safe, but somewhat disappointed at the lack of sightings. Perhaps, it was just an off day. Total distance hiked (or rather walked) was only about 2.7 miles.

Piney Creek Ravine Rock Art (Randolph County, Illinois)

Over my years living out west, I have sought out and explore many areas with ancient Native American rock art. I know that there are also some examples near where I grew up in Southern Illinois, and since I'm traveling through on my way home from St. Louis, I decided to detour and visit one of them.

The Piney Creek Ravine State Natural Area sits in and among some mildly rugged rock formations, with the ravine carved out by the creek the area is named for. I really didn't know what to expect, but was anxious to see what the site had to offer. From the small gravel parking area, the trail follows an old dirt road along a couple of pastures before taking a quick right and beginning a slow decent into the ravine. 

I'm actually pretty impressed by the topography and geology here. There are some waterfalls and the creek bed is a single sheet of limestone, at least in some areas. Once I get to the main area, where the creek forks, I'm forced to do a rock-hop to cross one of the branches. I saw a sign along a bluff on the far side and I assumed that might be where the rock art could be found. After making my way back up the hill, I found my assumption to be correct. Scattered along the walls of this bluff there is a combination of ancient pictographs and petroglyphs, along with an overwhelming amount of more modern (but still historical) graffiti. The more modern carvings are generally names and dates, which appear to be mostly from the late 19th and early 20th century. Unfortunately, they have hidden much of their more ancient counterparts.

As I walk along the bluff though, I do find a few examples that are still visible. The more noteworthy examples include a petroglyph of two humanoid figures standing side by side and a series of pictograph ungulates (probably deer) in a row painted with a red stain. I spend a few minutes exploring all around the area and see many more areas that might contain more rock art, but with what appears to be a storm approaching, I don't want to linger too long. 

Back at my car, I see I've hiked only about 1.6 miles, which isn't much, but I still have more stops planned along this trip home. This is an interesting site though and when I have more time, may be worthy of a more detailed exploration.

Confluence Point Trail (St. Charles County, Missouri)

After yesterday's busy day in downtown St. Louis, which included a half-marathon, a ride to the top of the Gateway Arch, and seeing my Cardinals take a loss from the Red Sox, I'm headed north to my actual home town of Alton, Illinois this morning. It's only about twenty miles from downtown and I'll be spending today and tonight there visiting family and friends before driving home to Atlanta tomorrow. 

On the way over though, I decided to check out a small park built at the confluence of two largest rivers in the nation, the Mississippi and the Missouri. The drive is a few miles out of the way on gravel roads, but I'm not in any big hurry. As I pass through this area though, I'm reminded of the great floods this area often sees. Back in 1993, which is the biggest one recorded, I even helped sandbag several of the businesses in Alton's downtown area in a futile attempt to persuade the muddy waters away. It didn't work. I imagine this lowland area between the great rivers takes a beating during floods, which is probably why they haven't paved the roads are done any extensive development. 

The park includes a small parking area and a couple of trails. I'm most interested in the Confluence Point Trail, which leads out to the actual confluence. It's a short 0.6 mile hike on gravel and some small sections of pavement to reach the area. Out there, some markers indicate which river is which and offer some historical tidbits, including a panel describing the many Native American Nations that once used these waterways. While visually, the confluence is nothing impressive, the importance of it in social, economic, and even patriotic terms cannot be overstated. This is where nearly half of the rain that falls across the entire contiguous United States finds its path to the Gulf of Mexico. It's truly a grand junction.

Gateway Arch (St. Louis County, Missouri)

When I planned my trip to St. Louis, I had to check back in the history of this blog. I was sure I had written about the Gateway Arch before, but as it turns out, I was incorrect. That said, I figured it wouldn't hurt to make a return to trip to symbol of my hometown. I've visited many times over the years, but it's always a great stop.

The Gateway Arch, built as a monument to the westward expansion of our great nation, stands 630 feet tall above the Mighty Mississippi River and welcomes travelers to the vast stretches of the west beyond. It was built between 1963 and 1965 and includes an underground museum. My memories of this place include walking through the museum as a child on a field trip and later of dancing with my senior prom date under the starlight and stainless steel behemoth after dinner and on our way to the actual dance, which was held on one of the riverboats below. It's also worth noting that the term 'arch' is a little misleading, as the shape of the structure is actually an upside down catenary, at least in mathematical terms. If you were to hold a string between your hands and let it go from taut to loose, the shape formed would be a catenary. Now flip it upside down and that's the Gateway Arch.

Oddly for having grown up so close, I didn't actually ride the tiny elevator cars to the top of the structure until after I had moved away to Reno and returned to St. Louis on a business trip. That said, I figured I would do it again today. I bought a ticket in advance and as the time approached, I made the short half-mile walk from my hometown to the park grounds. 

Entering, I quickly found where I needed to be after passing through an airport-like security check. I suppose the park service can't be too careful with a structure like this. They line us all up in a room and show a little video on the walls of the waiting area, which details what was going on in the world in the 1960's when the monument was built. Even for an old guy like me, this was just a little before my time, but I'm very familiar with the culture of that era.

Once the video is complete, we load into the eight tiny cars that are a combination of elevator and escalator. If you think about that, it make sense given how the cars must travel to the top. It starts out my vertical, but as we approach the top becomes much more horizontal. It's a tight fit, as I remember, in this car, but I'm with a nice family and we chat a little bit during the four-minute ride to the top.

At the top, we climb a few stairs and then head into the observation deck. Here, sixteen windows per side offer spectacular views of the city. Since the shape of the arch is actually a triangle, the windows are fashioned with a carpeted area to lean out onto and take in everything to be seen from this amazing vantage point. I take a few minutes to lean over several windows and see the city and river below me before heading back towards the elevators. 

After about ten minutes, we are asked to prepare to re-board the elevator cars and they call our groups one by one. The ride down is just slightly faster thanks to the gravity assist, but we arrive back at the base in one piece. I think the young man who's family I shared the car with was impressed by the entire experience. I wish them well and once we reach the bottom, I head towards my next destination for the day.

Greater St. Louis Half-Marathon (St. Louis County, Missouri)

Some months ago, I decided to get myself back in shape. Since the new year, I've been eating very healthily and running regularly. One of my goals was to get back to running half-marathons in non-embarrassing times and the first one I signed up for was the Greater St. Louis Half-Marathon. I grew up on the Illinois side of the river about twenty miles north of downtown, but when I asked, I just claim St. Louis as my home town. That being said, this will sort of be a homecoming. 

On Thursday night, I drove up north of Nashville after work and then finished the drive on Friday morning. I did stop to visit some family as I passed through Kentucky, which I don't do often enough. After arriving in St. Louis on Friday afternoon, I picked up my bib and checked into my hotel, which is just across the street from Busch Stadium, where I'll be joining an old friend to see the Cardinals play the Red Sox tomorrow night. I grabbed some dinner and relaxed in my room, anticipating the early wake up for the race.

I woke up feeling fantastic and ready to run. I had picked up a new red running shirt and cap, along with some red sox for the race, all in honor of my beloved St. Louis Cardinals. From the hotel, I had to walk about half-a-mile towards Union Station for the races start, but I arrived in plenty of time and quickly found corral K, where I had been assigned. From what the announcer said, the race has more than 10,000 runners, though that is a combination of marathoners, half-marathoners, 10k and 5k participants. Still, that's a pretty good turn-out. 

As the starting time hits, the corrals begin running east on Market Street one by one. Being back in corral K, it takes a few minutes for me to get started, but it's a grand view. The sun rises just a little to the left of the skyline and we appear to be running directly towards the Gateway Arch, which has a dark silhouette across the orange-pink morning sky. The air is a bit chilly, but once we get started it should be perfect running weather.

Finally, my group reaches the starting line and we begin our journey winding through the streets of downtown St. Louis. I start out pretty fast and pass a large number of runners. I really am feeling great this morning. We take a couple of turns and then right right past the my hotel and the hall of famer's statues outside of the ballpark, which was nice planning for the route. From there, it's a few more twists and turns before we hike down to wharf street right along the Mississippi River and running directly below the Arch. What a grand image it is to run here.

Heading towards Laclede's Landing, we face a couple of minor up hill sections, but I'm still feeling good and run every step. Turning left, we run across the river on the Eads Bridge and then do a quick 180° and return to the Missouri side of the river. From there, it's back into the Arch grounds, as we run close enough to touch one of the giant stainless steel legs of the monument.

The next section of the race takes us into Soulard, where large groups of supporters line the streets with signs and cheers to encourage us to continue. I'm still feeling pretty good, but I definitely feel a couple of hot spots on my feet. Wearing new socks was probably a mistake, but they were red! As we reach the southern part of the course, we pass by the original Anheuser-Busch Brewery and the smell of hops gives me a little extra encouragement to keep moving. 

Now approaching mile nine, I'm starting to feel a bit taxed and my pace slows a little bit, but I force myself to keep running. The music pounding in my head phones definitely helps. I really want to do well at this race and as long as I'm not ready to pass out, I promise myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

We head back towards downtown and then turn west to do a lap around Lafayette Park. Here, more supports cheer us on and I start to get my second (or maybe seventh) wind. I'm going to finish this race strong. Returning to downtown, I make the final left turn at Memorial Plaza and in the distance the finish line comes into view. I focus what little energy I have left and cruise to the end.

My feet are hurting a little bit and I probably have a couple of blisters, but otherwise, I'm feeling great. My official time was 2:11:17, which is not my personal record for a half, but only about 12 minutes off and much, much better than my last several races. In fact, this is the fastest half-marathon I've run in nearly seven years and my fifth fastest ever. I was hoping to come in around 2:20:00 and so, this is an achievement to be proud of. All of the hard work has paid off. Now to just keep at it.

After enjoying some post race snacks in the form of a banana, a roll, and some cold water, I rest a few minutes in the park and bask in the glory of the event. Soon, it will be time to walk back to my hotel and shower. I have a lot of other things to do today, but this was certainly the right way to start things off. Now, to look forward to my next race and see if I can get under that two-hour mark once again.

Moore's Bridge (Carroll County, Georgia)

My friend Charlie, the owner of the Meetup group I often hike with or lead hikes for, has been trying to get me to a park called Moore's Bridge a ways west of Atlanta for a while now. For one reason or another, I just haven't been able to make the past outings to this area, but even with the rain pounding down on us, I decided to give it a go today. I've been watching the weather forecast closely and it appears the rain will pass just about the time we start hiking. 

I've done a little research on this park and I believe the remnants of the old bridge are still here just downstream a bit from the western-most trail in the park. Charlie has explained that he has gone to the river and checked, but was unable to see anything. I'm a bit bull-headed and really want to see for myself.

The rain seems to have scared off the majority of hikers today and we are only a group of seven, which is actually better for my tastes. Often, our Sunday hikes get to be too big and unruly. Seven is a good number to manage. Everyone here knows each other and so, we skip the introductions and just head off into the woods. Before long, we encounter a small box-turtle seeking the security of it's shell. We try not to disturb him.

I think this park was created primarily for mountain bikers, which is probably why it is so appealing to Charlie, but even so, the trails are nicely maintained and wind through the woods enough to keep it interesting. We all hold a really good pace and will hopefully get in some good miles today. 

When we reach the southwest corner of the park (the area closest to where the remains of the bridge might be), I begin looking for a way to explore beyond the park. A large deep gully with a feeder creek blocks our passage directly across, but walking through the thorns and brambles just a bit upstream, I find a spot where I can cross over. The group follows curiously. After making way through the undergrowth, the area opens up into a maintained grass area with a house sitting up on a hill above us. I believe this is the historical home of Horace King, a renowned architect, engineer, and bridge-builder of the mid to late nineteenth century, who happened to be African-American and a former slave. He was responsible for designing Moore's Bridge and many other structures throughout the deep south.

Looking left through the trees, I see the unmistakable steel girders of a bridge skeleton spanning the Chattahoochee River. We make our way closer to the bridge and take a few minutes to explore. Everyone is excited to find this structure and I'm glad to have been proven right about it being here. There isn't much left beyond the steel skeleton and in the distance, the approach earthworks just below the house.

Heading up to the house, we take a few minutes to explore around the property, which appears to have been a museum or preserved historic site at some point, though Google indicates that is currently temporarily closed. It's a pretty nice house, though obviously dated and in some level of disrepair. There is an outhouse and well behind the main house and a couple of barns on the nearby land. It's all quite interesting to walk around.

Heading back up to the main trail a slightly different way than we came, we rejoin the mountain bike trails of the park and finish out the hike for the day. When we finally arrive back at the parking area, we've finished 7.9 miles. While mountain bike trails are often boring to me, looking for and finding the bridge made this a very good day. The others agree and thank me for my tenacity in exploring for it. They seem to have really enjoyed the diversion. We say our good- byes and part ways until our next hike.

Savannah Valley Railroad Trail (McCormick County, South Carolina)

Continuing my series of training hikes for my upcoming Camino Portuguese Trek, I posted a group hike on the meetup to explore the Savannah Valley Railroad Trail. This trail was created from an old, unused, railway bed and covers about 18.7 miles each way with very little elevation change. That seemed perfect for a training exercise. Two of my friends joined me for the exploration of this trail and we carpooled the two or so hours from Atlanta to the trailhead just across the border in South Carolina.

We arrived at the trail just a few minutes later than planned and took a few minutes to prep our gear and find suitable 'facili-trees' in the nearby woods. Pretty quickly though, we were on the trail, which starts off through a poison-ivy infested section of woods. Thankfully, this only last a short time as it winds back to the road we drove in on and then crosses to the other side and the trail really opens up. Some of the actual rails and ties are still visible here partially buried in the ground. 

As we peer into the distance, the trail looks very well maintained. It is wide and covered with pine needles for as far as the eye can see. It should make for an easy day. Since this is a training hike, we keep a pretty solid pace as we knock down the miles. There are few things of interest along this first section, including some stone signal signs. From an informational sign, these were to warn the train conductor of an upcoming road intersection and indicate for him the proper whistle sequence, with a wide symbol for a long steam horn burst and a narrow one for a shorter burst. The sequence here is two long followed by two short. As we walk, I visualize the scene of this happening in my mind.

After just a couple of miles, we are forced to walk on the road for a good distance. I had read about this and knew to expect it. I warned my friends to choose their footwear accordingly. For myself, I chose to wear an old pair of running shoes today and that seems to have been a good choice. The extra padding helps a lot on the pavement. 

This section on pavement is about two-and-a-half miles long and takes across two bridges spanning sections of the dam-flooded Little River. The water is low, but it's still offers some nice views. A few fisherman are trying their luck on the nearby shorelines below us. Luckily, there isn't a great deal of traffic on these roads and we're easily able to step into the grassy shoulder when the infrequent car does come along. 

After that stretch, we enter the woods on the old rail bed and continue west. Several sections pass through small hills and valleys. To ensure a smooth grade for the trains, either a cut was made to lessen the grade of the hill or a land bridge was built to raise it above the valley. Either way, it makes for a nice flat hike for us. As we cross highway 7, we note a sign on a post indicating the trail is closed about 1.75 miles ahead. That's interesting and will cut our mileage a little short. 

Another mile on, and we encounter a bridge or trestle. I check on either side and try to find a spot to get down to an angle where I can get a good picture, but it's a bit too treacherous for me to want to risk injury. We just decide to cross and are are greeted by a squadron of wood bees guarding the bridge. There are enough of them that I assume they have a next somewhere in the structure, but luckily, they don't do anything more than attempt to dive-bomb us. 

As expected we hit a no-trespassing sign after another 0.75 miles. It's attached to a stretch of barbed-wire across the trail, with no other explanation. As this is a county trail, I assume there was some problem with the easement. Either way, it will cut our overall distance about four miles short of the expected 18.7. We turn around and head back the way we came.

Getting hungry, we discuss stopping at a picnic table near the trestle to enjoy whatever snacks we each brought along. However, when we arrive we find that the bees have taken over the table area also and decide to keep moving. Eventually, we find a nice bench and stop for a few minutes to get a few calories in ourselves.

Fueled-up, we continue the return journey to our car. It's pretty uneventful, but we we reach the last section beyond the road walk, I suggest checking out a couple of side trails that we noticed when we first came this way. It will allow us to get closer to our original goal mileage. My friends agree and we first head northeast along a gravel road towards the old Badwell Cemetery, only a half-mile distant. 

The graves in this small cemetery range from 1793 (the oldest) to 1925 (the most recent). All of them (except one) are enclosed in a thick stone wall that has collapsed in several sections. As the newest grave here is over a century old, it's not surprising to see everything in such disrepair, but it is a little disheartening.

As we explore the area a bit further, we discover another marble gravestone outside the main walled-in area. The inscription tells of "Daddy Tom" who died in February 1857. While the inscription speaks kindly of the main, the way everything is worded leaves little doubt that this man was a slave, which is very likely why he wasn't buried inside the main plot. It's a harsh reminder of the dark past of our nation and the atrocities we committed against so many peoples in our ignorance. I have no doubt the family that erected the stone to this man thought highly of him and that they were doing him a service by even raising a gravestone, but looking at it through modern eyes, I can't help but think of how cruel it is to even consider this a great honor, rather than just a decency owed to any human being. The image of this will remain with me for quite a while, I think.

After the cemetery, we head back the opposite direction to explore a old spring house, which is really nothing more than a small building constructed of concrete blocks over a spring. The interior of the building is flooded with water and there really isn't much to see here, but it's interesting nonetheless. 

Just after leaving the spring house, it begins to rain on us. Lightly at first, it does pick up a little bit. I wouldn't normally have brought an umbrella on a hike, but knowing that this would be a wide and open trail, I thought it might work and it did just that. My companions put on their ponchos, but I simply raised my umbrella. 

Finally returning to my car just as the rain mostly stops, we check our tracks and see that we've hiked 15.8 miles. That's still less than the originally planned 18.7, but it will have to do. This was an interesting and easy hike and we all agree that the history of the area made it an especially enjoyable experience. Now the drive home.

Appalachian Trail - Unicoi Gap to Dicks Creek Gap (Towns County, Georgia)

I'm continuing my quest to complete all of the Georgia sections of the Appalachian Trail. Today, I'll be hiking from Unicoi Gap to Dicks Creek Gap, which is considered one of the most challenging sections. A few years ago, I hiked from Unicoi Gap up to the Tray Mountain Shelter and back, which means, I don't really need that section, but it's shorter to do it this way as a shuttle hike than it would be to hike south from Dicks Creek Gap to the shelter and back. Luckily, I convinced my friend Tina to join me and help with the shuttle logistics. 

Driving up separately, we met at the parking area at Dicks Creek Gap. The plan is for me to leave my car here and then for Tina to drive us the twenty minutes or so to Unicoi Gap, where we'll start the hike. Once we get back to Dicks Creek Gap at the end of the hike, I'll drive Tina back to her car at Unicoi Gap.

It's a little cooler this morning than I was expecting, but that might be a good thing, as we'll be doing a number of big ascents in this section and the cooler temps will help prevent us from getting to warm. Before leaving the parking area, we notice a some folks at the other end with some chairs and tables set up. They also have some coolers and are obviously performing some trail magic for the AT thru-hikers who are just now starting to come through this area. I always appreciate the folks that do this. It's a great service and it means a great deal to the hikers.

We get our gear together and hit start the big first climb up Rocky Mountain, which is already pretty tough. I had told Tina that my research indicate that doing this section northbound was slightly easier because the worst climbs were earlier in the day. She's very fit and though, she claims to be out of shape, she handled the steep hill with grace.

Along the way, we encounter a few thru-hikers and in a couple of instances, enjoy a brief chat with them. We also notice a really interesting plan growing all along the trail. It's called trillium and has a sort of primordial look to it, with four wide, leopard-spotted leaves rising just a couple of inches off the ground, and central flower-like structure in the center, often of a dark burgundy color. It's actually quite pretty. 

After Rocky Mountain, we begin the tallest ascent of today's hike to the summit of Tray Mountain. This is the seventh tallest peak in Georgia and the second tallest on this state's section of the Appalachian Trail (only Blood Mountain to the south is taller). It's a workout to get up here, but eventually we reach the top. I had thought the shelter was at the summit, but I mistaken and we encounter it a little bit further down north-eastern face. 

It's only a short spur trail to get to it and so, we head over. When we arrive, we encounter three thru-hikers who are packing up to start their day. They stayed here last night. We take a few minutes to chat and offer them some of our snacks. They seem to be really excited for the fresh blueberries I offer them. With many miles to go though, we can't linger too long.

The next several miles are undulating hills with rocky sections of the trail. It's doable, but after about ten miles on the day, we're both kind of ready to be done. I'm in pretty good shape right now and so, it's not a matter of being exhausted. It's more a matter of just being bored. Tina agrees. These sections of the AT offer the occasional nice view of the rolling hills to the horizon, but there are very few standout landmarks along the way. We do our best to keep ourselves entertained though. 

Just about the time we are talking about being ready to be done, we hit the final big climb of the day. This one will take us up Powell Mountain. While not the tallest of the three peaks we summit, the approach to this final one is the steepest and we are forced to stop a few times along the way to catch our breath and give our legs a break. Along they way, I spot a few sticks that have been laid out to form the letters 'A' and 'T'. Kind of a cool thing to see up here.

Eventually, we reach the top and I tell Tina that it's all downhill from here, though I throw out a disclaimer about the topographic map not being detailed enough for small climbs. She laughs and gives a sigh of relief. For the most part though, my statement holds true and there are only a couple of little climbs the rest of the way. Mostly, we are heading steeply downhill towards Dicks Creek Gap.

Near the end, we enter an area lush with rhododendrons, and I spot a tiny spur trail with a small green bench dug into the ground that overlooks a similarly tiny waterfall passing through the trees. It's a nice break for someone to enjoy the cool stream. That said though, I know we're very close to the end and we decide to push on. 

Finally arriving at my car, we both take a moment to breath and get a gulp of water. This was a tough hike for both of us. It was about 16.5 miles with nearly 4,800 feet of elevation change. Those hills were kill and with only one more section of the Georgia AT to go, I can say with some expertise that this is definitely one of the more challenging sections. Tina is tire, as am I, but she says she's glad to have hiked it with me. We hop in the car and I drive her to her car back at Unicoi Gap. Quite a day, but with only one section left (a big one to be sure), I'm feeling pretty accomplished.

Monadnock Madness (DeKalb and Rockdale Counties, Georgia)

Before moving to Georgia a few years ago, I had no idea what a monadnock was. Now, I end up getting many, many trail miles in and around them each year. I learned of these geologic formations, which are really nothing more than an uprising of softer rock from the cooling magma of past eons, by doing the Monadnock Madness event back in 2020. This event is sponsored and organized by the Davidson-Arabia Mountain Heritage Area and challenges participants to summit the three nearby granite monadnocks in a single day. This includes the famous Stone Mountain, Arabia Mountain, and Panola Mountain. It was a great even and I enjoyed it so much I returned to do it again in 2022, when they added a forth hike to the summit of Kennesaw Mountain diagonally across Atlanta from the other three. After that though, they stopped holding the annual event, claiming it was damaging the mountain trails too much. This year though, they decided to revisit the event for their 20th anniversary. Once I learned of it, I was in.

As we will be tackling Stone Mountain (the tallest and steepest) of the three first, we met at the walkup lot. Unlike previous years during the pandemic, this year we will be hiking as a group, which is an interesting twist. Additionally, we will have expert scientists, rangers, and others along with us providing some educational opportunities as we torture ourselves (okay, these will be easy hikes for me, but for some they may be torture). It should be great day.

The organizer gives us quick rundown of the days agenda and with that we begin making our way across the street to the walk-up trail. These steep trail summits Stone Mountain, which is actually the most popular attraction in the state. As it was once used as a granite quarry, there are many, many elaborate carvings on the ground on our way up. Our guides share some history of some of them. We also learn of some of the flora unique to the monadnocks, which includes black cherry trees and a species of oak, which has specialized to grow in these dry, rocky environment. 

Once at the top, we take a few minutes to enjoy the view. It must be somewhat unique to this time of year and this time of day, and I'm certain it wasn't planned, but as we look west towards downtown Atlanta, the sun is reflecting off the mirrorlike top of one of the skyscrapers. Its so bright, it appears to be generating the light itself. I mention that this must resemble what the Emperor Constantine must have seen nearly two millennia ago that inspired him to convert to Christianity. I'm not sure that anyone here understood my reference, but trust me, it was a good one.

We soon regroup and head down the mountain and back towards our cars. I get ahead of the group a bit with the intention of sneaking in some lunch before we caravan to Arabia Mountain. I prepared a little dish with grilled chicken, artichoke hearts, chickpeas, and feta cheese. A small cooler in my front seat is keeping it cool. I grab the dish and a seat and begin to enjoy my lunch. Soon though, the others arrive and I'm forced to finish it later. We start our cars and head south towards Arabia Mountain. The distance of our hike here was about 2.5 miles. 

The park volunteers direct us to a super secret parking area north of the visitors center due to the main parking lot being full today. I can't blame people, it's a beautiful day. A short little jaunt through the woods and we regroup at the visitors center. The park has provided two large baskets of snacks and fruit, as well as a water refill. I'm good though. I'm trying to eat very healthy right now and potato chips are not on my menu.

The ranger gives a brief talk about the history of the park and before very long, we're hiking once again. We cross the road and skip the board walk, much like we did a couple of weeks ago when I came for the lunar eclipse. As we make our way up the side of the mountain, we stop to take in all of the unique life that thrives here, including the beautiful diamorpha smallii, which is just coming into bloom. 

Our guide is quite knowledgeable and speaks about all things related to Arabia Mountain, including it's ancient history, it's time as a quarry, and now, it's continued preservation as a park. As we listen and hike, we explore the area between Bradley Peak and Arabia Mountain. It's always interesting to see the stark contrast between the areas that were quarried and those that were not, or at least not as heavily.

Returning to the parking area, we are given instructions on our next destination, which takes us to another super-secret parking area at the nearby Panola Mountain State Park. Again, I head out early in the hopes of finishing my lunch at the final stop. Our hike distance at Arabia Mountain was 2.3 miles.

Driving just a few miles to the southwest, we arrive at our final mountain. This super-secret parking area takes us down the old driveway of the family that use to reside here before they accidentally burned their mansion down and later donated the land to the state. It's about a quarter-mile until we reach an open field, where I'm directed to park. I'm the first here and I take a minute to finish my food. 

As others arrive, the ranger greets us and asks us to sign a waiver, which is common at state parks for these organized events. After everyone signs, we begin our third and final hike to the summit of Panola Mountain. Unlike the other two, this one can only be accessed when accompanied by a ranger. Panola was never quarried (mostly due to the brittle nature of the granite here) and once it donated to the state, it was decided that it should be preserved in it's natural condition. The park offers guided hikes regularly, but frowns and even fines visitors who try to access the mountain on their own.

We make our way through the woods and soon up the side of the mountain. Our ranger knows the path well and does her best to avoid stepping on the mosses and lichens that grow on and slowly consume the granite. She describes many aspects of the geology and biology we are witnessing first hand. At one point, she asks if anyone knows the difference between igneous and metamorphic rock. A bright 7-year old young lady speaks up and gives a textbook answer. I look at her dad and nod in approval. He's doing it right. Great job young one!

We wrap up our hike by hiking back down towards the old lake house, where one of the park volunteers has prepared a campfire and set up supplies for making smores. As the sweet treat doesn't really agree with my diet, I decline, but thank everyone for such a great day and had back towards my car. This final hike was only about 1.8 miles, bringing the total for the day to about 6.6 - not huge, but still a wonderful event that I'm glad to have been able to participate in.

Sweetwater Creek - All Trails except Blue (Douglas County, Georgia)

I'm feeling great! I ran a 5k last night and performed better than expected. I ran my fastest race in over five years and even took second place in my age group. That said though, these legs need more exercise and so, I decided to join the Atlanta Outdoor Club for an extended hike at Sweetwater Creek State Park. The park has a number of different interconnected trails and the plan is to hike all of them (each designated by a different color) except the Blue Trail.

After meeting up with the group, we did the standard round of introductions and were soon on the trail, seven of us in total. We notice that there is another event going on and later discover it to be the Yeti 7-11 Endurance Race, which is not about time, but about how much distance you can run in either seven hours or eleven hours, depending on which option you registered for. We encounter a number of runners and hikers participating in the race. In some cases, we will see them multiple times throughout the day. 

Our first section takes northeast crossing the sturdy steel bridge over Sweetwater Creek and into the eastern side of the park, which is full of hills. All of the trails here are well maintained and at this time of year, we can occasionally sneak a view of the creek below us. One of the ladies in the group even mentions that there is a lookout from this side where we can look back over the ruins of the Manchester Manufacturing Company on the western shore of the creek. Unfortunately, she mentioned this well after we had already past the point. I will have to look for this spur trail on my next visit. 

We complete the 4ish mile loop on this side of the creek and then head back across the bridge and pass by the visitor's center once more, where we stop for a quick restroom break and snack. Once everyone is ready, we head south through the woods above the ruins. Once we reach the designated point (as defined by the gentleman that originally planned this event), we turn around at what seems like a strange point by the creek and then head back along the rushing waters of Sweetwater Creek. 

This section is a little gnarly with lots of rock scrambling and a few stairs involved. I enjoy this section the most. However, at one point, I grab onto a vine to steady myself over some slippery rocks only to feel a sharp stabbing pain in my thumb from the thorns attached to the vine. I guess it suits me right for not looking first. Regardless, once we close out this section with a short stop at the observation deck directly over the ruins. 

All along the way, we've been discussing various topics, but mostly focused on past and future hiking trips. It seems one of the ladies is headed to Tanzania, where I was a few months ago. Another is planning to hike the Camino Portuguese in a few weeks, which I will be hiking about a month after her. It never ceases to amaze me how many people in these groups share such common interests of travel.

From here, we head southwest along the White Trail, which eventually becomes the brown trail and climb some of the steepest inclines in the park, though they still aren't much by comparison. It's great to be outside though this time of year. While the temperatures are warm, the humidity for which Georgia is famous, hasn't quite kicked in yet. That fact along with the occasional cool breeze makes it a beautiful day to be doing this.

Finishing this section of the Brown Trail, we begin to make our way back to the visitors center. We see many more runners continuing their torturous multi-hour march. Once we arrive, we say our goodbyes and head our separate ways. For me, I'm planning to go home and fire up the grill. We hiked about 12.7 miles here today, which isn't bad at all.