Target: 35.354887501, -84.006473315
Type: Wildspot
State: North Carolina

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I’ve spent many days and nights exploring the Nantahala. It is one of my favorite Forests and as a result I’ve done most the things that have caught my interest, not leaving much for a rightpoint. The highpoint of the Forest is pretty low, has a gravel road to the top, and the summit is covered with cell towers and associated equipment. Not much of a goal that represents the Forest. Given all that, I figured this would be a great first test of the wildspot system!

Intriguingly, the software chose a spot surrounded by some familiar boundaries: the stunning Joyce Kilmer old growth wilderness to the north, the Cherohala Skyway to the south, and Lake Santeetlah to the East. I’ve spent time in each of those places, but had never been to the place in between. As I would soon discover, I had been missing out.

I left work early on Friday afternoon to make the six hour drive. I knew there were Forest Service roads in the area so I figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find a campsite, at least for the night. Since it was late I simply took the first gravel road pointed the direction I wanted to go and then took the first turnout. As soon as I turned off the headlights night descended like a physical blanket, smothering in its blackness. It was a cloudy night and I was in a deep hollow under a heavy tree canopy so it was almost as dark as a deep cave. Even after letting my eyes adjust for several minutes I couldn’t see any difference between ten inches or a hundred feet. With nothing more to do, I crawled into the back and went to sleep.

The next day I rose with the sun, or nearly so, and took some time to get my bearings while making coffee and oatmeal for breakfast. The road I was supposedly took me within a mile of my wildspot so my plan was to drive as close as I could then bushwhack to the spot. Easy enough, except I could see that the road completely disappeared about 50 feet further on. There was possibly a trace of it left in the form of a trail, but it would be many miles of rough terrain if not.

Another series of roads went far around before coming back close to the wildspot, if they actually existed. I figure it was worth a shot at least and set off to see what I could find. I am so glad that I did.

The first road was beautiful, if normal, Nantahala. It wound along Santeetlah Creek, tracing the curve of the mountains through shaded glades and around rocky outcrops. Turning up the Wolf Laurel the character changed quickly. Not since Africa have I seen such stunning views of steep emerald jungle. Trees so thick and lush that there was no way to tell how tall they were cascaded down mountain slopes at seemingly impossible angles. The impression was of a forest so tightly packed that it couldn’t fall down even though it should. At times I could see far up the narrow valley which was almost canyonlike in it’s closeness.

Rising higher and moving once more between mountain flanks the long views were replaced by steep, rocky streambeds filled with cascading water, sometimes in high, powerful waterfalls. Moss covered everything almost like a fairytale wood. Rain had started to fall and it seemed the most natural state of this water soaked forest. Keeping an eye on my wildspot as the road grew nearer to it, I turned the last curve, that would take me the closest, and there, as if I planned it carefully, was a perfect campsite.

The rain continued to fall with no sign of abating as I set up camp. For today camp would be a simple hammock with a rainfly set high to allow views of the surrounding woods. The wind was low and the rain was nearly vertical so I wasn’t worried about my bed getting wet. I scouted the direction of the wildspot just to see what I was in for, but planned to wait for the next day hoping the weather would clear before I made the attempt. The terrain looked steep and tough to traverse, but doable.

After relaxing for a while I decided to take an easy stroll to see what was around. According to the map there was some kind of cabin not far up the road. Apparently it can be rented for the Forest Service, but I had yet to see any cars back this far and I was curious what it was like. It turned out to be a restored, rustic, 19th century log cabin with a couple of bunks and an outhouse. I found out later that it can be rented for only $33 a night! I’ve filed that one away for future trips.

While exploring the area around the cabin, I noticed a trail heading very much in the direction of the wildspot. This was too promising to pass up, so I started walking. Soon I came to a wide, shallow creek. There was another creek almost straight across that was even shallower and continued in the direction I wanted to go. Already wet from the rain, I sloshed upstream for a while, crossed yet another creek, and then suddenly found myself on a long abandoned single track road and only a few hundred feet from my goal!

As I would discover in future wildspot adventures, the spot itself is rarely anything special. These endeavors truly are about the journey. I suspected this even as I struggled up a steep hillside, battling through thorns and thick brush, trying to find the dot on the map. What I eventually found was a simple space, surrounded by trees, with no remarkable features. Okay, pretty much what I suspected. I continued on the top of the hill, just too what was up there, but that old, overgrown roadbed was calling me.

Back down the hill I started walking with no idea whatsoever where this would take me. Sometimes it was obvious where the trail was, and other times it took some detective work. At one point it just emptied into a huge blackberry patch, thick, thorny, and over my head. There were various places where something resembling a path led and I started following them in the general direction I had been traveling. All the while I was wondering if these were bear trails, because bears love blackberries. I took up my old Alaska refrain, ‘hey bear!’, just in case.

Finally out the other side, arms bloody from a multitude of shallow scratches and lips purple from the several dozen blackberries I picked along the way, I cast about until I found what I thought was the trail. It wasn’t, but took me close enough that I eventually spotted it. After a few miles the trees suddenly opened up and I was on a mountaintop meadow, or what is called a bald in this part of the country. I saw a sign a ways ahead and angled off towards it.

As I got close to read the sign, I realized that I had found the Benton MacKaye trail! It is an offshoot of the Appalachian Trail, created to be a wilder, more private experience that cuts off from the AT early on and rejoins it some 300 miles later. Even more amazing I was only a few miles from Stratton Bald, a peak that I had wanted to climb for some time. A few hours earlier I had only planned a short walk down the road. I had no snacks and was almost out of water. But how could I pass up this opportunity?

Mentally cataloguing the point where I would need to drop back into the trees I set out on the BMT. There was not a single other person around, nor any fresh sign of others. It was almost eerie walking this high ridgeline, with rain and fog settling all around, signs of former passage from time to time, but no other people.

This section of trail was a different character again from what I had experienced so far. This was the third major shift today alone, from the low river road in, the high rainforest where I started hiking, and finally grassy balds and rocky cliffs. Supposedly there are great views here but the fog had settled in to stay and I wouldn’t see much. Nevertheless it was a perfect capstone to this unplanned adventure.

After finding the top of Stratton, I made my way back to camp very happy with the day. I spent some time the next day exploring the Forest by car, stopping to play in the water, or explore an interesting grove of trees, before turning back for home.