Hey there, it’s been a little while. Been traveling around quite a bit, without a computer, and I’m no good at writing on the phone so I had to wait to tell you about some things. It looks like life will get back on track this week, which hopefully means I can get back to writing and hiking. Fingers crossed!
But before I get into some new adventures, I want to report on a recent trip to South Carolina. I was recently in Greenville for one of my son’s baseball tournaments, and we had a large window open up in between games. With only an hour’s drive to the Blue Ridge Mountains, it seemed like a great opportunity to bag Sassafras Mountain, which is South Carolina’s highest summit. How could I resist? It takes at least two hours to find a big mountain near home here in New Hampshire—how could I pass on climbing a peak over 3000 feet that was only an hour away? Impossible.
After an early morning wakeup, I left our hotel under the cover of darkness and made my way up Route US-178W. I didn’t have much for breakfast, but the humidity was such that I didn’t have much appetite anyway. After five days in the Carolina heat, all I really wanted was an IV drip of Gatorade. So I stopped at a nearby Quick Trip where I stocked up on some hydration measures and a Snickers bar for emergency purposes. With a full tank of gas in the rental car there was nothing else to do but beat the rush hour traffic.
A cottontail was waiting for me on Sassafras Mountain.
Sassafras Mountain
From everything I read, it sounds like the most popular route up Sassafras is the Foothills Trail. Spanning 77 miles and accessible at several road locations, I was hopeful that I’d find it on Route 178, and happily, I did. But the early summer growth was already in high gear. All sorts of flora enveloped the entry point, and I wasn’t quite sure what kind of ivies I was looking at that could give me a rash.
So I took the easy way out.
I drove a little further to a parking lot just shy of the summit and walked the short distance to the summit where I found beautiful views, an observation deck, and a whole host of cottontail rabbits. But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t feel deserving of being able to claim this mountain “climbed,” so I did what any self-respecting peakbagger would do — I climbed down the mountain so I could climb back up.
The Sassafras Mountain Trail
Near the lot where I parked is a portion of the Foothills Trail that leads you to the Sassafras Mountain Trail. At the trailhead, there’s a sign warning you to wear orange for hunters, and fortunately, I had anticipated this possibility. Hunting seems like a very natural thing to do in the area, so the first piece of clothing I decided to put on that morning was an orange Under Armour shirt.
But the warning about hunters didn’t make you feel great about where you were heading. As I hiked along the broken woods, doing my best to ignore the accompanying flies, it was hard not to feel like the entire morning was cast with dread. Despite finding some lovely rhododendrons and some interesting, uprooted trees, there wasn’t much in the way of views, and I hiked down the trail only long enough to feel that maybe—just maybe—I could claim Sassafras Mountain climbed.
But not quite.
So after returning to my car, I decided to head to the other side of the summit for a further exploration of the Foothills Trail.
The Foothills Trail
The Foothills Trail that was hard to discern towards the base of the mountain was easier to pick up from the summit. There were still some overgrown parts, and I brushed past some things that may or may not be the cause of the persistent rash I acquired in South Carolina, but for the most part, it was more open than what I had found before. But hiking down for a little over a mile, the air still felt thick and the trail was claustrophobic—a result that most certainly stemmed from the oppressive heat. Note to self: If I ever go climbing in South Carolina again, avoid the months of June through August.
Maybe it was the weather, or the time of year, but the section of trail below Sassafras’s summit wasn’t my favorite. There was one nice surprise, though. Near the summit is a rhododendron tunnel that felt a bit spooky in the early morning light. Like something might jump out and attack you from beyond the thicket. I had read about copperhead snakes in the area, and I didn’t know if bears or any other critters were around that may cause me harm, so I thought it best to exercise some caution. I’m glad I did.
Poking my head into the tunnel, I was surprised to lock eyes with a tiny screech owl resting on a high branch at the other end. It stared at me with curious eyes and didn’t break eye contact for a solid minute, giving me enough time to record a video of it. It would have been an awesome video too had I actually hit the record button.
Believing the screech owl fully documented, I took my first step into the dark, and it immediately fluttered off down the trail. At the sound of the commotion, another screech owl, hidden above my head, dive-bombed past me and joined its friend on the other side of the rhododendrons. That was a jolt that no amount of coffee has ever given me; I had no problem being on the alert for the rest of the hike.
A New Mission?
Between the distance I hiked down from the summit and back up, and probably a mile more towards the foreboding Sassafras Mountain Trail, I now felt like I could successfully claim Sassafras bagged. But I was deeply unsatisfied by the exploration.
You see, this was to be the first mountain that would kick-off what I hope will be a new secret (well, not-so-secret I guess) plan to climb the highest peak in every state in the USA at some point in my life. It might not happen, but a guy can dream, can’t he? Never having explored the southern mountains in the country before, I was excited about finding new views and new wildlife, but I needed a trail to battle. Something to test me and immerse me in the environment. So while I was happy to have seen Sassafras, it left me wanting.
Back at my car, I decided I needed to go somewhere else…
The Blue Ridge Mountains