Panthertown Valley, Day 2

Field Notes II.XVI: Backpacking and photographing Panthertown Valley in the Nantahala National Forest, North Carolina

Welcome to Field Notes!

Today we continue the trek through Panthertown Valley in the Nantahala National Forest of North Carolina. Read about Day 1 here-

Now let’s go!

A subtle, dispersed tapping draws my consciousness from the oblivion of sleep. It is the sound of light rain on my tent. The forecast today calls for rain, but I hoped it would start later, after I packed camp.

Darkness embraces me with a damp chill as I crawl from the tent. This site is located on the apex of a rocky cliff face, the Great Wall of Big Green Mountain, overlooking Panthertown Valley in the Nantahala National Forest of North Carolina below. The wind overnight was minimal. To my welcome surprise, I slept soundly on this exposed perch without interruption.

Under intermittent drizzle I retrieve my food back from its suspended hang in a tree branch. Retreating back into the tent, I carefully prepare coffee in the open vestibule as my senses clarify and I focus on how to handle the wet.

I pack all that I can within the tent. Then, I quickly wipe the outside of the tent and pack it before the tent itself can collect more water. On this trip I decide to test out a lighter rain poncho, rather than a rain jacket and pants. As I put it on I see why ponchos have fallen out of favor in recent decades. The material offers protection, but is cumbersome and bunched under the pack straps and hip belt. Nothing can be done about it now. Time to move.

Muscle and sinew, tight from yesterday’s hiking, groan as I push my boots into action in the dim twilight. The path back down Big Green Mountain to the valley floor is an easy walk. The lightening grayness of morning slowly brings definition to the surrounding forest.

In the soggy bottom lands mountain laurel and dogbane reach dripping wet branches across the path. Their waxy leaves are a vigorous contrast to the bleak bare branches of the tree canopy reaching up into pale skies. I continue on in silence. Spring peeper tree frogs, the same who serenaded me last night, take up their song once more, undeterred by my presence.

Early daylight arrives as I walk the trail with the looming Great Wall through the trees to my right. This is the massive rock wall I awoke on top of, jutting vertically from the flat valley floor. I think again of Panthertown Valley’s title ‘Yosemite of the East’ and know that this imposing cliff is its basis.

The rain becomes a steady drumming in the forest. I reach a small clearing with a constructed shelter. Low, long, and wide, this simple tin roof over a wooden floor is designed to accommodate larger groups of campers. On this wet Tuesday morning, I am its only occupant.

The shelter offers an ideal place to unpack, dry off, and re-organize my backpack. I sit listening to rain tapping on the tin roof while enjoying another coffee. Too soon, it is time to go.

I develop a new strategy for the poncho. Rather than wear it, I drape it over the top of my backpack, protecting my pack and the back of me. In an emergency I would be able to pull it forward over my head for front coverage, as well. It works, but gives the appearance of a ridiculous gray ghost hovering behind me as I move through the woods. My trek has become symbolic of flight from this encroaching reaper. Do I flee the past, loneliness, or maybe death itself? Perhaps all three. Memento mori.

So long as the rain remains light, this will be a good day for photographing waterfalls. Panthertown Valley holds several of them. I hang a right at the next trail juncture and stumble along a root covered side trail to Granny Burrell Falls. This waterfall is a short cascade over a rounded rock face in the stream, leading towards a wide pool. I photograph the falls until the rain picks up and then move on.

Still moving through the valley at a fairly quick pace, I come to the next waterfall. This is Frolicktown Falls, and is significantly larger than Granny Burrell. There are limited vantage points to view it, and I do not want to spend extra time getting unnecessarily wet. I photograph Frolicktown from the easiest location I find, then pack my wet gear and continue the trek.

I am closing in on the final segment of this journey. The trail begins an ascent from the valley towards the surrounding ridge tops. Progress becomes taxing and slow. Rain and sweat mingle.

Step by step, the roaring of another waterfall grows ahead. At a turn the trail opens up to the base of Wilderness Falls. Though a relatively small flow of water, the height of this cascade is overwhelming. Trees lean in, blocking some of the view of it. To avoid them would require crossing the stream and moving into the undergrowth on the opposite side. Even so, my widest angle lens of my DSLR could not contain the entire waterfall at this proximity. I use the ultra wide angle lens of the GoPro camera to capture a quick photograph and continue the soggy climb up the mountainside.

Near the ridge top I come to a flat dirt road. A few turns here will lead me back to the parking lot, my truck, and this journey’s end. Before I go there, I turn the opposite direction towards one last vantage point, gray poncho-ghost still flowing close behind me.

I soon reach Salt Rock Gap and its overlook. Here more bare wet rock stands in silent witness to the slowly evolving springtime in Panthertown Valley. Distant ridges endure in the obscurity of low clouds while swirling fog moves across the bold cliffs of Little Green Mountain and Tranquility Point.

I set down my pack, and my gray ghost with it, and step away. The smell of wet earth hangs heavy in the air. As I stand looking over the valley I see the bare forest blushing with the approaching spring season. A red haze of swollen buds on still leafless branches graces the treetops receding into the distance. The energy of impending growth radiates from the land. In silent awe, I witness the slowly churning mists of time itself.

You guys, I hope you’ve had as much fun reading this adventure story as I have had creating it. Panthertown Valley was a short trip, but definitely one to remember! Next week, look forward to the Field Notes Film.

There was a lot of positive response last week about the selfie photos. It seems that they do add to the overall story, so I will be including them in new adventure stories going forward.

Today, I’m curious what you all think about my hiking partner, the ridiculous gray ghost! Let me hear it! Do you have one of your own? And what should we name him?

Field Notes is entirely reader supported. If you like it, please subscribe. I could also use your help to spread the word. Forward the email, share the post, tell your friends- every bit helps!

And if you haven’t yet, please consider subscribing so that you don’t miss an issue of Field Notes!