The Foothills Trail (East-to-West, Sections A1-A7) - Trip Report

"Well, that's it, boys.  I've been redeemed." - Delmar, in O, Brother, Where Art Thou?

"Everybody's got to hike their own hike." - Taz


Back in March I cut my Foothills Trail thru-hike short after overexerting myself during my second day of action, hiking 24 miles in a single day, taking few stops for rest, water, or food.  My desire to finish as fast as possible lead to a madman approach that was antithetical to why I had wanted to do the hike in the first place.  I had to do a lot of soul searching after that, but one thing I knew was that I had to finish the remaining 45 miles.

Day 1

My alarm went off at 2:55 AM on a Thursday morning, and in that moment, facing a 6 hour drive and a 16 mile hike, I admit I almost shot off a text canceling my shuttle. But, I buckled down, gathered my gear, and got in my Jeep for the long drive to Bad Creek Access from Raleigh by way of Greensboro, Winston-Salem, and Asheville.  There's something romantic about driving in the middle of the night.  One feels like an interloper in highway subculture.  Between the hours of 2 AM and 5 AM, nobody is awake unless they need to be.  Your only compatriots are the truckers, 24/7 convenience store attendants, and George Noory with a hopefully interesting guest (it's unfortunately a 50/50 shot nowadays) on Coast to Coast AM.  This morning's guest discussed Baal and demonology and how, traditionally in Christianity, communication with the deceased is very rare, and most instances of communicating with spirits are actually with demons, even though they may disguise themselves as loved ones.  So, an interesting show, but I admit he lost me when he attributed UFO sightings and abductions to demons.

Speaking of radio, Christmas stations are now playing in western North Carolina.  I'm a sucker for Christmas music; even the bad songs are fun in a so-bad-it's-good type of way, so I basked in the festive carols, something I normally wouldn't treat myself to until after Thanksgiving.  BUT, Thanksgiving is late this year, so who is going to care if I start listening a little early ;) ?

I met my shuttle driver, Taz, at the designated spot about 30 minutes earlier than planned (this would be valuable, though I did not yet realize it).  Taz was my shuttle driver for my last trip, though he did not remember me.  Who can blame him, he shuttles hundreds of people a year?  (Not just by car, either, he also has been known to arrange boat shuttles, though he told me this was not an advertised service, and only for special circumstances.)  I was actually a little happy he didn't remember me, as I was slightly ashamed of not completing the trail last time.

IF you're thinking of hiking Foothills all the way through, I recommend parking at Table Rock.  You have to pay for parking at either Table Rock or Oconee, but security is better at Table Rock.  However, you cannot drive your car out of the park unless it's open, so that's a potential risk.  If you are not thru-hiking, parking at Bad Creek access is advantageous because it is Duke Energy property.  The only entrance in has a camera, is gated, and the gate is locked after 7 PM, but you can drive out any time.  It's also FREE.

Little waterfall

Water sliding down rocks

Flashbacks to Neusiok

The trail goes up the rock faces

Water seeps from the piled granite

Eponymous Table Rock shows itself through the burn

Anyway, I started out from Table Rock State Park in SC going westbound at 9:15 AM.  The trail winds up next to a creek that flows from rock to rock, as you immediately start to appreciate the amount of granite in the state park.  The hike up to the shoulder below Pinnacle Mountain took me through the remnants of a 2016 fire, and I started to hope I'd get a view of Table Rock and the South Carolina Piedmont that wasn't filtered through trees.  Pinnacle Mountain is actually the highest mountain entirely contained within SC.  Sassafras Mountain, the traditionally recognized state high point, actually forms the border with NC, as will be seen later.

Looking Northeast to Table Rock

Getting as close to the edge as I'd like.  Not looking to end my trip early, if you catch my drift.

Finally, after a sizeable climb, I was rewarded with expansive unobstructed views from a large granite outcropping of northern SC.  I chatted with a local who told me to beware of wild boars.  I also made sure to enjoy the scenery.  Though I knew I'd be short on daylight, one of my biggest regrets from my last venture was not enjoying the hike enough and focusing too much on pace.

Looking West to what I think is Horse Mountain

From here the trail winds up to Bald Knob (didn't look like a stand-alone mountain, just a named point on the slope) where it connects with the trail to Pinnacle Mountain.  This would make a nice day hike, but when you're staring at 45 miles in 3 days during the shortest time of the year, side trips are not allowed.  The trail winds up and down into the woods, abutting another outcropping with excellent views of the distant mountains to the west, probably NC.  I have been coming around to listening to music while I hike, as I mentioned in a recent post, and I was listening to Marty Robbins' Gunfighter Ballads & Trail Songs, a really excellent album; plus, what could be more appropriate than trail songs?

Campsite on the trail

"Lighthouse"

Lighthouse Campsite

Cantrell Homesite and Campsite

The trail then drops in elevation below the western slope of Pinnacle Mountain, passing two nice campsites, newer additions on the trail.  As an aside, a lot of campsites have been constructed by the Foothills Trail Conservancy and Eagle/Boy Scouts since March 2019 alone, so it's best to have up-to-date information so you can adequately plan your trip.  I lost my guidebook since my last trip, so all I had was the Anti-Gravity Gear pocket guide, and, if anything, it's a conservative guide given the number of campsites and water sources along the trail.

The trail passes the "Lighthouse", a titanic slope of Cyclopean granite boulders that could make a nice spot to meditate (or something, I don't know...).  I would love to camp at the nearby campsite and spend a few hours just exploring this dreamscape, of which the pictures do not do justice.  After the trail finishes dropping, the exhausting climb back up to Sassafras Mountain begins.  I met a fellow Foothills Trail hiker, the only one I undoubtedly encountered on my trip, who had started at Oconee and was happy to see a fellow hiker.  Given that it was a Thursday, I doubt he had seen anyone else for days.  Before the final push to Sassafras begins, I passed through the Cantrell Homesite, now an established campsite.  While it wouldn't necessarily bother me, there is something a little unsettling about sleeping in the ruins of someone's house.

Looking West to where I'm heading on the Foothills Trail

SC celebrating their highpoint

The climb up to Sassafras Mountain elevation was rough, especially since I had the better part of three days' worth of food and fuel in my pack, but I was happy to realize at the Cantrell Homesite that I was actually nearly there.  Like many other highpoints in the Eastern US, Sassafras Mountain can be accessed by a pleasant drive in your car, followed by a slightly strenuous walk on pavement up the remaining 50 yards (at least it's strenuous if you're in your golden years).  Until relatively recently, Sassafras Mountain's summit was completely wooded, making for an underwhelming experience, but in recent years the summit has been stripped of trees.  Even more, construction on an observation deck has been finished in the past year.

Good chances that the lake peeking out at the right is Jocassee Lake, my destination the next day

Repping Hamilton the Playoff Pig, who I brought with me for motivation

Looking back at the observation deck as I head away from Sassafras

While I normally complain about such commercialization of natural places, I actually liked this.  There is nothing special about a tall mountain with trees on it, aside from the fact that it is the tallest one in our arbitrary man-drawn borders (hell, even the concept of being the "tallest" mountain is sort of arbitrary), so creating a view and giving people a reason to get out of the house to check it out is no big deal to me.  If they did something like this at Wheeler Peak, however, I'd be mad.  The only thing that would make this perfect is a restaurant at the top.  Doing a thru-hike would be awesome if you could plan around having a hot, restaurant-quality meal and a beer.

Campsite (I apologize for the blurriness of some of these photos; it's hard to keep your phone camera smear-free when you're in nature)

After chatting with some people at the summit, having a lunch, and enjoying my last reliable cell service before the meat grinder, I began the westward descent to where I would eventually set up camp.  I find that 8 miles/3 hours is a standard pace for me, but I was not keeping this at all, instead doing 2 miles/1 hour or less, which I attribute to the early start and/or the elevation gains/losses.  This portion of trail was largely uneventful, but it would begin a common theme that was to be pervasive through the remainder of the hike.  Descend steep winding slope into valley, climb steep slope to the top of a hill, rinse, repeat. I ran into a Foothills Trail Conservancy (FTC) volunteer, Andrew, who had just finished working on Flatrock Campsite. Unfortunately, I was not able to make it that far, but I set up camp at a nice solo site with established fire ring just 100 yards from a small spring. Though I was exhausted and thirsty, I enjoyed the nice sunset and was surprised with an unexpected light sprinkling of rain. I took a sleeping pill and had a surprisingly smooth and warm night of sleep.  16.3 miles down.

Day 2

Though I woke up at 4:00 AM (it's impossible to get 8 hours of sleep in a tent on the ground, let alone 12 hours), I crawled out of my tent at 6:30 AM and ate what was supposed to be my dinner from the night before, mashed potatoes. I really like powdered mashed potatoes because they can be made in-bag, and they are actually really good when not all the powder is dissolved because they get sort of salty and crunchy and flavorful. All they need to be perfect is some meat and cheese and maybe some chives or green onions, but since I'm lazy I had none of those. Without those, it's sort of impossible to finish a whole bag.

The nice, pristine Flatrock Campsite

Old logging road

I trekked West from my campsite, quickly passing the Flatrock Campsite, which would have been nice to camp at if I had just a little more energy or a little more time the night before.  The trail ended up on an old logging road, and I missed the turn-off back to the trail, realizing my mistake after hiking for 5 or 10 minutes.  In general, the Foothills Trail is extremely easy to follow, and, having lost my guide book, I only brought the pocket guide, which is hardly a map.  I did bring my GPS, but that is battery powered, so I only use in emergencies.  I have the full paper map, but it is, in my opinion, totally worthless since it has no side trails or roads on it, so I didn't bring it.  I got completely off-trail, to the point where I did not know where I lost it, twice, and both times it was because of an intersection with forest roads, so pay attention.  I think that making these intersections more obvious is one of the few points of improvement for the FTC to make, but it is a nitpick, and if I were paying more attention it wouldn't be an issue.

Upper Laurel Fork

One of many bridged creek crossings

First impressive bridge of the trip

First suspension bridge of the trip, crossing the Laurel Fork Creek

The trail drops into the valley following the Laurel Fork Creek downstream towards Lake Jocassee while it picks up flow.  Somewhere along this point, a detour took me on an old logging road due to a bridge outage.  Because of the detour, I did not take the side trip to Virginia Hawkins Falls, though I realized after the fact that I misread the sign as being a 2 mile side trip rather than a 0.2 mile side trip, or else I probably would have gone to see it.  Oh well.  As an engineer, I can appreciate all the beautiful bridges, and, to my recollection, I have never crossed a suspension footbridge, so every time I did and felt the bouncing up and down as I walked was a pretty enjoyable experience.

Water trickle down rocks near Laurel Fork Falls Campsite

Overlooking the outlet of Laurel Fork Creek into Lake Jocassee

Laurel Fork Falls

The forest was so humid and primitive, like much of the Southern Appalachians, that I felt like I was in a Jurassic Park movie.  I saw my only other humans of Day 2, being some forest workers and campers at the Laurel Fork Campground, a primitive campground, and I felt tempted to ask some of the campers if I could have some of whatever they had on the grill and a beer (I had $17 to my name), but I decided to keep moving.  I crossed the Laurel Fork Falls Campsite about a quarter mile down the trail, and really tried to keep my eyes out for the falls.  I initially thought the small trickle of water down a rock wall was the falls (in my defense, the Lick Log Falls from my previous Foothills Trail trip were not exactly exciting), so I moved on as the valley began to open up into Lake Jocassee, the dammed lake that all the rivers of my trip feed into.  10 minutes later, though, I experienced one of my favorite parts of the trip, which was seeing the real Laurel Fork Falls, a magnificent cascade of water pouring over a rock wall.  This moment, like Upper Whitewater Falls on the last trip, was powerful, and I had to sit for a few minutes and appreciate the scene.

Having lunch and appreciating the scenic bridge

Looking down at Jocassee through the trees from a ridge

Going down Heartbreak Ridge

Looking at the start of Heartbreak Ridge

Unfortunately, this view was the high water mark of the trip.  Not that the rest of the trip was bad, but it soon became very one-note.  From here, the formula became obvious.  Climb straight up the side of a mountain on old forest roads and stairs, winding in and out of the intestine-shaped hillsides, then drop straight down the side of said mountain on forest roads and stairs to a pleasant river crossing, just to do the same thing again.  At least today there were some views through the trees of other mountains and Lake Jocassee, as this would not be the case tomorrow.  I did the first iteration of this routine and crossed Rock Creek, where I had lunch in preparation for Heartbreak Ridge.  What, you've never heard of Heartbreak Ridge?  It is literally a straight climb on stairs up 300 vertical feet, then down on stairs 300 vertical feet, for a total of 592 steps (or something like that).  This somewhat famous part of the hike does not impress my shuttle driver Taz, who says it's no worse than any other part of the hike, and to that end, I agree.  At least Heartbreak Ridge is interesting and scenic, versus a nameless forest road in dense forest.  No matter if you're going East or West, you have to go up and down, but the slope is slightly more gradual on the Eastern terminus, so going East to West is probably preferred.  There is a nice bench at the top, too, for a rest!  This was actually one of my favorite parts of the trip, though, because I liked seeing Lake Jocassee through the trees, and with the fall colors it felt like New England.  Speaking of fall and stairs, I cannot tell you how many times I almost died because fallen leaves were covering stairs.

Lake Jocassee as it feeds into Toxaway River

"The Bridge" across Toxaway River

Had to take a selfie on the bridge, but I was very, very scared I'd drop my phone into the river, hence the seriousness

After descending Heartbreak Ridge, the trail winds its way along where Lake Jocassee feeds into the Toxaway River (note: I'm not sure if Jocassee feeds into Toxaway or vice-versa, but I remember Toxaway flowing away from Jocassee).  There is a lot of excellent camping here, and it is only reachable by boat (for now), so it's very pristine.  I would have loved to have camped here if I were not on a schedule.  Also, crossing the Toxaway river was a highlight in and of itself because it featured a 225' suspension bridge, the largest of the trip.

Exiting Gorges State Park

I forgot to mention that sometime before crossing Rock Creek and hiking the infamous Heartbreak Ridge, I crossed into the home state, North Cackalacky, and entered Gorges State Park.  Well, after performing one iteration of the now familiar up-down-river rigamarole, crossing Cobb Creek, I exited Gorges State Park and made way toward my campsite along Bear Creek.  Just outside Gorges State Park, I saw my only sign of wildlife aside from squirrels and a frog in a heaping pile of what had to be bear scat.  I can't say I'm worried by black bears, and when you're utterly exhausted, you are way more concerned with things like finding somewhere to sleep or getting water or eating food.  I made it to camp at around 4:00 PM, and had what was one of the best meals of my life.  So, obviously this was not best in terms of quality, but the dopamine rush I got from eating this meal after hiking 17.3 miles had to be top 10 in my life.  The meal to which I owe this pleasure to was . . . Mountain House dehydrated Chicken and Dumplings.  The chicken wasn't totally rehydrated, the "dumplings" were basically wet croutons, but this meal was perfect to me in the moment, and nothing can replace that.  Good job, Mountain House.  I slunk into bed for a terrible night's sleep, knowing from the forecast that sometime this evening the heavens would let loose.

Day 3

I don't know what time the rain started, but I know I was woken up at 4:30 AM by the rain, though I was not exactly sleeping to this point, as I mostly tossed and turned while trying to stretch my increasingly sore legs and joints, an impossible task in a mummy bag.  At 6:00 AM, still an hour before sunrise, I got impatient, and packed my bag under cover of my rain fly as best as I could, saving the tent for last, and got a start on the trail.  I convinced myself that I could hike in the dark, in the rain, in the fog, by my headlamp with no issue.  After hiking for a couple minutes I ended up . . . back in my campsite.  Whoops.  I managed to find the trail and moved at a snail's pace so as to not miss any blazes, but thankfully this section of trail had no forest roads to provide confusion.  Within 30 minutes I was soaked from head to toe, especially toe, and I tried my hardest to stay positive and just keep pushing.

Blurry picture looking down at Thompson River bridge

To be quite honest, I was miserable throughout the day's entire hike.  Whatever views there may have been were obscured by fog.  I was wet.  My legs were so sore I had to stop every 20 minutes for a 5 minute breather, and as I type this my knee hurts to the point where I am thinking of making a doctor's appointment if it still feels this way in a couple days.  There were basically no highlights except for the crossing of Thompson River, which had a really cool long bridge attached to steep stairs.  I really wanted a picture looking down the stairs, but since everything was soaked, the picture came out blurry.

Crossing Whitewater River for the last 0.7 miles!

The sign telling me I made it

Mike (my Jeep) waiting patiently for me in the distance

On my way out I did actually encounter a few other hikers, which surprised me.  One man was carrying an umbrella and had a pack so light he could not have been a thru-hiker, but I have no idea where he would have parked his car.  The other group was a couple with their dogs at camp along the Thompson River, and I don't even think they saw me.  Eventually, as I neared the Whitewater Falls area, I saw literal signs of civilization, and I knew I was close.  I was keeping an eye out for the campsite about a mile east of Bad Creek access, since this point marked the end of my trip last time, but whether it was raining or something else, I did not see it.  However, when I reached the Whitewater river crossing, I was ecstatic, since, though I was not yet at my car, I knew I had finished what I set out to do in March, which was to hike all 76.2 miles of the Foothills Trail.  From here to the Bad Creek access point was a short 0.7 mile hike.  I changed into dry clothes and flip flops, engorged on Zaxby's in Brevard, picked up beer to go at Sierra Nevada in Mills River (though perhaps Foothills in Winston-Salem would have been more appropriate), and made my way home well deserving of Ruckus Pizza.

Conclusion

All things considered, I was upset about not finishing the trail in March.  I am not a thru-hiker.  I have never done the AT or the PCT, and I probably never will, to be honest.  As much as I love being outside, I also love my bed, my family, beer, pizza, etc.  I like being gone long enough to miss and appreciate those things.  But, I understand to an extent what the purpose of thru-hiking is, or at least one of the purposes, and that is "finding yourself".  While it may seem like a platitude, and it often is used as one, being outdoors, especially by yourself, allows you to discover more about yourself.  I think it all boils down to the fact that you are responsible for yourself in the purest sense.  You can't say, "I don't feel like hiking today, my feet hurt too much", because you will never get home.  You can't say, "I don't feel like cooking today", because there is no McDonald's to get a quick meal from.  That ever-present implication generates "self-discovery", in however form that may manifest itself.  So maybe it seems silly to be this happy that I hiked 45 miles in Appalachian foothills along the SC/NC border, but that doesn't change the fact that I like the person I see in the mirror now more than I did before I hiked those 45 miles.  And who knows, maybe I have another medium-length thru-hike in me (JMT, anyone?).

My impressions about the trail as a whole?  First of all, I am very thankful to my shuttle driver Taz and all the volunteers at the FTC who work hard to make the trail beautiful.  There were only a few downed trees that made the going tough, all in remote areas.  The eastern third of the trail (East of 178) is the best part, in my opinion, and with the great campsites and side trips, I would love to spend three days doing a relaxing trip in that area.  The western third's highlight is the portion along the Chattooga River, but the mountainous portions are a little underwhelming, since all the views are through the trees.  The middle third is a mixed bag, and I can't speak to the views during my rainy day.  The winding forest road climbs and dips are boring, repetitive, and difficult, but every river crossing is beautiful, and I would love to spend a little more time exploring all the waterfalls I had to skip for time's sake.  Also, the fishing has to be good, but I obviously did not bring a pole.  Overall, I would highly recommend the Foothills Trail, but if I only had a weekend (and didn't want to pace 16 miles/day), I would probably do Hwy 178 to Table Rock State Park.

I will be dark until possibly January, when I go to Big Bend National Park.  Though I will not do any backpacking, I may blog about a few trails and trips.  Other than that, with the weather being cold, I will probably not get out for any blog-worthy overnight trips until at least March.  I may do the Triangle portion of the NC Mountains-to-Sea trail that runs through Falls Lake, as I saw a trip report on Reddit that covered about 26 miles in 3 days, and it would be really really nice to finish a trip and have all of a 30 minute drive home.  Until next time!  Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!