American Byways

Waking up along the shores of Lake Superior at Five Mile Point was quite the experience. After car camping for the night, I came to and rushed out with my tripod to set up for the morning photograph. Grabbing a whiff of the crisp and chilly air as it rolled in from the shore, I felt refreshed and with awakened senses, I waited. With predictable results, the sun popped out over the horizon, providing subtle hues of warm light along the rocky and barren coastline, bounded only with the evergreens that hug the edge lines.

Living in the Subaru for a few days was actually quite fun. I enjoy my frugal road trips.

For the morning, I wanted to venture to Laughing Whitefish Falls, but roadway conditions led to an early detour and defeat. Following Deerton Road, I came to the small community of Deerton. The Detroit, Mackinac & Marquette Railroad constructed a station for the lumbering camp, and a post office opened in 1922. In 1926, a small school was constructed at the junction of Deerton-Onota Road. Today, not much is left in the community – most of the residences are abandoned, although the school still operates.

The railroad was dismantled only a few years ago, and is today part of the Duluth, South Shore and Atlantic Railway Rail Trail, open to snowmobilers, cross county skiers and cyclists.

Following Peter White Road south to Laughing Whitefish Falls, I came across increasingly deteriorated roadway conditions. The two-lane gravel roadway soon became one, and then dirt. And that generous dirt path became rutted before ending at a washed out bridge over West Branch Laughing Whitefish River.

I turned around and headed back to Deerton, only slightly discouraged. There were other waterfalls to check out that were nearby, of course! I ventured onto a dirt road and proceeded eastbound towards Rock River and descended southward towards Rock River Falls in the Rock River Wilderness. I turned onto a nearly unmarked Forest Road 2276 and followed this single lane route for 4 miles and turned left onto Forest Road 2293. After coming to the small trailhead at the end of a remote and rough dirt road, I hopped out of the car with my camera gear and headed down the trail. The Rock River Falls Trail, while not marked, is fairly well worn and follows portions of logging roads before coming to the waterfall, which has a height of 15 feet and an approximate crest of 30 feet.

After departing Rock River Wilderness, I took a drive over to Chatham for lunch at the Rock River Cafe, which serves local cuisine that was locally sourced. The cafe was also vegetarian and vegan friendly, which was a bonus, and served some great house coffee roasted in Michigan. Near to the restaurant was the former Munising Railway Company (MR) depot, which was later used for a private business and is now for sale. The rail line is today part of the Coalwood Trail.

Heading further east along Michigan State Route 94, I stopped for a photograph of the Lake Superior and Ishpeming Railroad (LS&I, MR’s successor) crossing that was built in 1930. The bridge was built over Au Train River, and the pipe that runs through the center is overflow for the Cleveland Cliffs Basin lake.

After following the LS&I long enough, I ventured to Miners Falls at Pictured Rocks. After parking at the trailhead, I ventured on a well groomed path that was .6 miles long and included 77 steps to the viewing platforms. Unfortunately, access further down and to a lower waterfall along Miners River is inaccessible.

It was only a short drive to Miners Castle, which is one of the most photographed rock formations at Pictured Rocks. But the viewing platforms were expectedly overcrowded and the lighting was poor, so I headed eastward along the Lakeshore North Country Trail, which generally hugs the Lake Superior Coast through the National Lakeshore. The paved path through a thick canopy of pines soon gave way to a single track dirt trail that sharply descended to the Miners River valley before coming to the backwaters of Lake Superior. I was able to capture two anglers who were trying their luck in capturing some steelhead trout for dinner.

On the other side of the sand dune was Miners Beach, which is a mile long and completely devoid of people .

The Lakeshore North Country Trail ascends a small bluff overlooking the beach, passing through acres of crimson red blueberry bushes.

With the sun waning, I packed my gear and headed further east to the overlooks above Lake Superior for a sunset. The light began to fade fast so I hiked at a brisk pace on a gradual upward course to the bluffs.

I wasn’t wholly satisfied with the first overlook that I came to, so I ventured a bit further east to the top of Bridalveil Falls. It was a natural clearing and was prime for a sunset. As the light faded, the storied sandstone warmed up with hues of amber.

It was at Bridalveil Falls that I met storied photographer Craig Blacklock, best known for his book The Lake Superior Images and other visuals from the Great Lakes region. Craig has been photographing the region for decades, and is also a passionate conservationist who co-founded the Blacklock Nature Sanctuary and was influential in the formation of the Lake Superior Water Trail of Minnesota. Also, thanks for the book, Slot Canyon. Your gift was warmly received!

Fantastic inspiration for a trip that has so far been marked with photographs of nature at its best when it is isolated and free in an area that is depopulated and isolated.

Further Reading

• Deerton, Michigan
• Rock River Wilderness
• Lake Superior and Ishpeming Railroad
• Munising Railway Company
• Miners Falls
• Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Nothing like the scent of lingering campfire and cloudy skies to greet you at dawn at the Hensley campsite at Cumberland Gap. With no sunrise to speak of due to a turbulent cold front that was passing on through, I walked over to Hensley Settlement to refill my canteen.

Cloudy skies or not, the soft light provides excellent fill for this Hensley Settlement barn. An American Chestnut split-rail fence provides a rustic bottom, while dogwoods bloom overhead.

A quiet morning without a soul around at Hensley Settlement.

I walked back to the campsite and headed east along the Ridge Trail with the new found backpackers that I had met before. The destination that day was White Rocks, which was 5.3 miles from Hensley Settlement, via a mostly level and wide trail with mud pits that were occasionally rutted out by horseback travelers. The biggest highlight was Table Rock.

Table Rock

The trail continues eastward, rolling through easy terrain before descending a moderate hill to the Sand Cave and waterfall spur. The side trail, which is single track and reserved for hikers only, is all downhill via switchbacks and some long stairs that require some fanagling so one does not slip down. But the views are worth it – for the waterfall and for the namesake rockshelter, which is 250 feet wide and 1.5 acres large. Carved due to the forces of nature – wind, water and ice, the sandstone ceiling erodes, depositing sand along the floor that is not only deep, but colorful. Peer into the floor and ceiling and spot over 20 different color variants!

Waterfall at Sand Cave. The water is clear, but it is always good to purify the liquid.

It is not exactly an easy hike to the top of Sand Cave. A steep gradient, along with a thick sand base, makes trudging to the top tiring.

Their sizes gives an easy indicator as to how large and steep Sand Cave really is.

Sand Cave

By the time we reached the Ewing Trail junction near the White Rocks campground, we dropped our packs and opted for an easy climb gear-less. The views from the top were as spectacular as they had been over two years ago. The climb to the top was fairly easy – but it requires scrambling up some rocks, although this is an easy process due to roots, branches and trees that can be held onto for support.

No sunset that evening at White Rocks due to a strong storm that had moved literally one mile north of Cumberland Gap.

We took in the sight of pure scenic bliss. White Rock, named for the white quartzite pebbles that are embedded in the sandstone, presents the cliffs as a bright beacon on sunny days. And for those that were traveling the Wilderness Road, it was a sign for those heading west that Cumberland Gap was only a day’s walk away.

Back at the Ewing Trail junction, I said goodbye to the friends that I had made backpacking from Hensley Settlement, and made my way down to the White Rocks campground – which is accessed from a winding single track path about 200 feet or so down the hill. It is not the most accessible, although it is far enough from the Ridge Trail that you rarely hear anyone else in the vicinity.

The night was young, but I was quite tired and after cooking a quick dinner, I retired to the tent. Thankfully, I had minded some advise given earlier to pack everything that had a scent into one bag and hoist it up – toothpaste, food and anything that had a scent, due to the growing bear population. Whereas Cumberland Gap had few black bears a few decades ago, it is full of them. Their signs are everywhere – claw marks on trees are frequent observations along the trails, along with bear dung and infrequent sightings. It didn’t help matters that I had spotted one earlier on this trip near Hensley Settlement along the Ridge Trail!

But thankfully, this advise was well heeded, because at 1 A.M., White Rocks campground was paid a visit by a single black bear. I could hear some claws scraping the ground about 50 feet away from my tent where I had cooked earlier, but not much else.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered inside my tent. “What the hell am I going to do?”

Sweat began pouring, as I was completely unaware of the events going on outside of my tent. Thoughts began forming in my head almost like clockwork, some more worrisome than others. What if the bear wandered closer to my tent? Or what if it would grow angry over the lack of accessible food? This was my first encounter with a bear so close, and I was alone. I hastily began throwing on socks, a shirt and shorts, and laced up my boots. I unzipped the tent ever so slowly, and had made preparations to dart to the outhouse – a relatively stable structure with a door which was thankfully a few feet away.

But just as soon as the bear was clawing the ground for food, it wondered off. I sat in my tent for the next hour, wide awake, listening for any sounds that the darkened forest emitted. Morning could not come soon enough.

As soon as first light hit the tent, I was out. I checked the grounds and confirmed my suspicion – claw marks were visible on the ground under the food bag that was hanging high from the ground, undisturbed. My composure was back and it was time to the the trail – and in 20 minutes, I was ready to hit White Rocks again for the morning sunrise. Clouds were looming overhead, but the quartz was as beautiful as ever.

White Rocks in the early morning.

Ewing can be spotted at the base.

White Rocks

White Rocks

I headed west along the Ridge Trail – destination was the Chadwell Gap Trail. But the walk, which began at ease with a decent cloud cover, declined to something more nerve wrecking as it progressed. Fresh bear markings and dung littered the trail, and my overactive imagination, fueled by the events of the night, only hastened my paranoia.

“Black bears are scared of humans,” I thought. I had not thought of bringing a bear bell, so I whistled familiar tunes and made some noise. It wasn’t long before I had reached the Chadwick Gap trail junction, where I began my descent towards the base. It was at the first rockhouse that I encountered that I was in for a surprise, though. As I began climbing down stairs, whistling all the while, two figures appeared from behind a rock.

“Shit,” I exclaimed, only to realize it was two other hikers that were going to Hensley Settlement for a day hike.

Now I knew my paranoia was reaching absurdity, so I relaxed a bit, swigged down the last of my water, and continued my hike. I did manage to photograph some gorgeous purple wildflowers, which I was not able to identify.

Unknown wildflower species.

Unknown wildflower species.

Unknown wildflower species.

After laboring down the nearly 3-mile long trail, I climbed into the car and headed west. I decided to photograph more of Cumberland Gap, but desired some rhododendron, which I had heard was in early bloom at the Pinnacle.

Rhododendron in early bloom at the Pinnacle.

Rhododendron in early bloom at the Pinnacle.

The common periwinkle is in bloom.

Alas, all good times must come to an end, right? Not really, so I opted for a quiet drive on the back roads until I got back into Cincinnati that night. On the way, I managed to squeeze out a pre-storm photograph of the Rolling View Farm west of Berea, Kentucky!

The historic Rolling View Farm near Berea, Kentucky.

I hope you enjoyed my hiking reports from Cumberland Gap! Here is a recap of the Cumberland Gap series:

• Surprises in southwest Virginia
• Going up to Hensley Settlement
• Sand Cave and White Rocks

The second of my two day winter trip into West Virginia, the first of which covered Dolly Sods, my friend Pete Jenior threw up the suggestion of visiting North Fork Mountain. This spectacular ridgeline, marked by major highwalls and fantastic rock formations, peaked my interest. I’ve passed by this several times via West Virginia State Routes 28 and 55 en route to Petersburg and Virginia, but it was time to hit the trail and climb to the top to see it in person.

The snows that had blanketed Canaan Valley and Dolly Sods only two days prior had all but escaped North Fork. Lying east of the Allegheny Front, it is one of the driest mountain ranges in the eastern United States, and composed of flora that is unique to this particular mountain range. It was a cold, dreary day, with the threat of an all-day soaking rain later that afternoon, but that only gave us more incentive to see this unique naturalized area that much more.

From the base, off of County Route 28/11 that branched off of West Virginia State Routes 28 and 55, we climbed the Landis Trail (TR 502), which meandered up the eastern slope of North Fork Mountain. Ascending 1,130 feet in 1.4 miles, it junctioned the North Fork Mountain Trail (TR 501) at the top. We beared right, following the narrowing ridgeline passing along the way an ideal campsite. Sheltered by the winds and under a thick canopy of trees, it’s only downside was that it had no reliable water source.

The trail afforded many spectacular views to the west of Germany Valley, Seneca Rocks, Fore Knobs, Champe Rocks, Dolly Sods, Roaring Plains, and the North Fork of the South Branch of the Potomac River. A few bring about wonderful photographic opportunities of Chimney Rocks, and arguably offered one of the best views in the Monongahela National Forest that I’ve seen — even on this moody, cloudy day.

A view of Chimney Rocks.

The trail begins its descent towards Chimney Rocks, and it is at this point that a rock cairn marks a departure path towards the highlight of the trip. We scrambled up the trail to the rocks, and was amazed at the formation and assembly of the rocks. Coupled with the wide, expanse views for miles around, of the Allegheny Front and the vast wildernesses that lay beyond it, it was one of the more enjoyably hikes that I’ve done thus far.

Chimney Rocks.

It was at this point, though, that it began icing and sleeting, so we began a rather hurried descent down the mountain. Climbing back onto the North Fork Mountain Trail, the path descends at a rather rapid pace, affording several great views of New Creek Mountain and the continuing North Fork Mountain across a deep cut formed by the North Fork of the South Branch of the Potomac. At the base of the mountain, reflected on our two day journey and went along our way. Such a fantastic weekend of exploration in the highlands of West Virginia!

North Fork Mountain

If you enjoyed these photographs, visit the North Fork Mountain page for more photographs from the winter expedition!

Dolly Sods is the highest elevation plateau east of the Mississippi River located along the Allegheny Front in West Virginia. Hosting some of the most spectacular scenery in the Mountain State, Dolly Sods is encompassed within the Monongahela National Forest. But its high elevation and frequent weather events makes finding good hiking weather at Dolly Sods nearly impossible to predict, and being stuck miles from any residence or shelter in the dead of winter is an experience that no one wants to encounter.

On January 23, 2010, I ventured a trip to Dolly Sods with my friend Pete Jenior from Baltimore, Maryland. I had been planning for a trip to the region for over a month, but frequent, heavy snowfalls and blizzard warnings all but starved off any attempt at accessing the backcountry. And I wasn’t about to tempt the roads — all two-lane, with mountainous crossings coupled with high elevations.

On the weekend that I planned for this trip, I appeared to be in luck. A weekend of warm weather — high’s in the low 30s with possible peeks of sunshine at Canaan Valley, in the valley to the west of Dolly Sods. I packed up and drove east, meeting Pete at the well-rated and affordable Ladybug Bed and Breakfast in Thomas. I didn’t get to the Ladybug until midnight, after encountering thick fog on U.S. Route 33 east of Elkins that slowed my arrival by nearly 40 minutes, but surprisingly, the roads were clear and well maintained.

After a good nights sleep, we awoke and drove out to Dolly Sods from the west via Forest Road 19, only to discover that the route was impassible. We turned back undeterred and proceeded to the eastern side of the Allegheny Front, where the snowfall is much less frequent and where the temperatures tend to be at least five to ten degrees warmer.

Turning off onto Forest Road 75 from Jordan Run Road, we drove up what was a plowed paved road before it became a snow covered dirt roadway with two worn tire tracks. Using that as leverage and traction, we were able to make it as far as the midpoint on the ascent towards Bear Rocks at Dolly Sods, before we turned off into a pull-off. We broke out the winter shoes and gear, and walked up the remainder of the road to the top.

Forest Road 75 to Dolly Sods.

After about an hour of trekking through two feet of snow and ice, we made it to the top at Bear Rocks.

Bear Rocks was amazingly beautiful and all quiet, sans the endless whistling of the winds as it swept the barren landscape that is Dolly Sods. An ice storm that hit two nights prior left the leaning pine trees and shrubs caked in a thick ice layer, forcing a gleam in the brief bits of sunlight that protruded through the low cloud layer. And a lot of dense fog.

Bear Rocks shrouded in dense fog.

Bear Rocks

Not a single soul was around. No tracks from vehicles, no footprints, nothing. We walked over to the trailhead for the Bear Run Trail (T 522) and plotted the day’s hike. Should we attempt a loop via the Bear Run and Dobbin Grade trails, and wade through the icy Red Creek? Or just protrude in and back out? We decided for the latter.

Wandering down the Bear Run Trail was an exercise in itself. While the first half of the day involved below-freezing temperatures, where we were able to walk on top of the two-foot snow pack due to the layer of ice, it became increasingly evident that the temperatures had risen. Crashing through the ice barrier and performing lifts on increasingly burdened legs became tiresome after a few miles, but the views and solitude were worth any effort and energy expended.

Crossing Red Creek along the Bear Run Trail wasn't difficult, but doing so further downstream along the Dobbin Grade would have been much more difficult.

The trail past Red Creek became increasingly narrower and harder to locate, so we began hiking off-trail for the lack of guidance at this point. I had done this trail once before, so I had a general idea of where to walk and where the high point was on our topographic map. After about 20 minutes of wandering, we were able to make it to the peak where in the fall, views of endless barrens for miles around were afforded. On this cold, blustery day, with fog enveloping the valley below, there were only sight distances of tens of feet, but that didn’t matter.

At this point, confident that we could navigate back to Bear Rocks by dusk via some off-trail hiking, we ventured down the slope towards Red Creek. After sliding down a large hill and poking my foot through rock crevices, we were treated with expanse panoramas of a pristine, clear valley along Red Creek.

Crossing Red Creek, which flowed underneath these large boulders, was more difficult for me than it was for Pete.

As we headed back towards Bear Rocks, it was becoming increasingly darker and we knew that we had timed our trip out in Dolly Sods perfectly. A bit worse for the wear and hungry, we ended the evening by walking down Forest Road 75 to the vehicle, and driving out to dine at the Blackwater Brewing Company, where they served great food and delicious hand crafted beers. I devoured a Wiener Schnitzel and downed it with the Blackwater Gold Ale, a good way to end a perfect expedition.

Here is a familiar photograph from my last trip to Dolly Sods, with a bit that I wrote to explain why I do what I love.

We are photographers, backpackers and admirers of the vast wilderness that lay amongst each mountaintop and valley. We do this not because of the photographs that we take, nor do we do this because we need a day off from work. We brave the cold and the unbearable winds because we have a passion to be out amongst the open, blue skies, the vast conifer forests, the bogs and wetlands, and the solitude that only nature can provide. The following image was taken at Dolly Sods, October 12, 2009. I woke up at 5:30 AM to pack my tent up in the windy, 30F weather, freezing in four layers, and rushed down to Bear Rocks to capture the stunning sunrise. There were few others out there, only passing by these two photographers who hailed from Winchester, Virginia. I was later greeted by four others — two of whom were from San Diego and came up here to “brave the cold and see the wild and the wonderful West Virginia.” This truly is a wild and wonderful natural area.

If you enjoyed these photographs, visit the Dolly Sods page for more photographs from the winter expedition. Stay tuned for photographs and a write-up from my trip to North Fork Mountain and Chimney Rocks next week!

After a laborious hike to the top of North Fork Mountain, Pete Jenior and myself were greeted to gusty winds, pelting ice and rain and breathtaking views of Chimney Rock and the mountain range in this remote part of West Virginia. North Fork Mountain is one of the driest mountain ranges in the eastern United States, situated east of the Allegheny Front, which soaks up most of the remaining moisture and leaves the ranges to the east parched.

There is nothing better than being outside in the cold weather and being the only hikers out there!

Bear Rocks at Dolly Sods in West Virginia, the day after an ice storm. We were the only ones at Dolly Sods on that very windy and cold day, which wasn’t all that surprising. It was one of the more rewarding hikes that I’ve done, and certainly one of the more strenuous. Taken on January 23, 2010.

Dolly Sods is the highest elevation plateau east of the Mississippi River located along the Allegheny Front in West Virginia, and boasts some of the most spectacular scenery in the Mountain State.

Sunrise from Bear Rocks at Dolly Sods, looking into the valley carved by the South Fork of the Potomac River.

Dolly Sods at sunrise.

A view down into the Broad Run valley, looking eastward to the Potomac River.

A view along the Raven Ridge Trail.

Bear Rocks Trail

Portions of the Bear Rocks Trail, especially closer to Forest Road 75, were degraded by years of abuse by a Jeep trail.

High elevation plains and bogs line the Beaver Dam Trail.

Dobbin Grade Trail follows an old rail grade and parallels Red Creek.

The Dobbin Grade Trail is a flat and wide path that winds its way through bogs and plains affording sweeping views of the entire valley.

Ferns basked in autumn colors.

Sunset.

Be sure to check out the newest recreation guide at American Byways, Dolly Sods, which contains two trail highlights, campground information and over 130 photographs taken over the span of two months. Enjoy!

My leg was quite stiff from a spill on my bike, where a softball-sized knot formed on my right knee after I did a quick save of my bike, but not my body. But I was not about to let a beautiful, sunny Saturday go by without at least heading out for my second trip to Red River Gorge for 2009. For this, I decided to take it easy and trek out on several smaller trails and take frequent breaks to let my leg rest up.

The first trail I pursued was the Whittleton Branch Trail (T 216) and the Whittleton Arch Trail (T 217). The trail begins at the Whittleton Branch Campground at Natural Bridge State Resort Park and meanders along an old logging railroad along the Whittleton Branch. Until 1928, the Mountain Central Railroad lumbered up the valley, crossing the creek an impressive 26 times in just two miles. The trail is almost entirely covered by dense second-growth forest canopy, and brilliant wildflowers blossom in the valley during the spring and summer months.

Approximately .8 miles from the campground is the junction with the Whittleton Arch Trail (T 217), which leads to Whittleton Arch — the primary focus of this hike. It is an easy .02 mile trek to the waterfall step arch, one of a few within the gorge. It is relatively difficult to photograph due to its impressive size — it is one of the largest arches in the gorge.

Whittleton Arch

I then attempted the Hidden and Silvermine Arch Loop (T 208 and 225), located near the Koomer Ridge Campground. Beginning at the trailhead parking lot, I followed the Hidden Arch Trail (T 208) for about one mile to a overlook of a deep watershed that flowed northward to the Red River. Twenty-seven steps led away from the overlook, snuggled amongst rhododendron, before coming to Hidden Arch — appropriately named for its location inline a rock house.

Hidden Arch

The trail then descended more steps before ascending a hill to the Koomer Ridge Trail (T 220). I turned right and took the Silvermine Arch Trail, following a mostly level path as it passed by the Koomer Ridge Campground. At two miles, the trail descended an impressive rockface via a 89-step staircase, which afforded great views of the valley below. The trail continued down the hill before ending at the impressive Silvermine Arch — also considered a waterfall step arch.

Silvermine Arch

I ended the day with the Sky Bridge Trail (T 214), is an easy .8 mile path that features Sky Bridge as its centerpiece. Beginning at the Sky Bridge parking area, the trail comes to a view of the top of the arch, affording impressive views to the east and west. The trail scrambles down some stair steps and loops back for a view of the belly of the arch, before returning via a staircase to the parking area.

Sky Bridge

The sun sets over the Parched Corn Creek valley.

Click through to find more about Red River Gorge and photographs of the terrifc sunset, Hidden Arch, Silvermine Arch and Whittleton Arch. Watch for new recreation pages on two prairies in Ohio soon!