Pin-Chin-Sky Loop, Day 3

Field Notes II.XLIX: Backpacking and photographing the Talladega National Forest and Cheaha Wilderness in Alabama

Welcome to Field Notes!

This is day 3 of my backpacking trip on the Pin-Chin-Sky Loop in Alabama in early November 2024. Read parts 1 & 2 here-

Pin-Chin-Sky Loop, Day 1

Pin-Chin-Sky Loop, Day 2

Exposed

The teal sleeping bag stretches across the top my red air filled sleeping pad. A green air filled pillow sits in its spot at the head. Trekking poles lay in line beside it, along with my camera gear and head lamp. Everything is organized and welcoming. Until darkness falls, and then I have to re-orient it all.

I am spending the night alone in the Cheaha Falls Shelter, in the Talladega National Forest of Alabama. This three sided wooden structure, basically a shed, is a nice one. It is clean and elevated off of the ground. Its wooden floor is smooth and even. I have heard horror stories of trail shelters being overrun with rodents at night, but I don’t expect that to be a problem here.

In fact, this is only the second time I have slept in a trail shelter. The first time was only a couple of weeks earlier on Mount LeConte, where I shared the rustic domicile with several other people. On this trip I haven’t encountered another hiker since the night before. The log book indicates other people do stay here, but tonight I have the shelter all to myself.

Night settles thickly over the surrounding hills and forest and a small irrational worry builds in my mind. Silly, really. It comes down to the openness of the three sided structure. That open side means any creature could creep up to me as I sleep. Any man could approach me in the night unhindered. My tent is such a flimsy barrier in contrast to these solid wooden walls, but I can zip it closed. Why is that such a comfort?

I can’t have my feet oriented towards the open side, towards the darkness out there. They would be too vulnerable. But I can’t have my head that way either. I shift my sleeping bag and pad in line with the back wall of the structure and squeeze everything as tightly into the corner as I can get it. My pack hangs on a peg directly above me. All that I carry is within easy reach.

Somewhere in the far distance a great horned owl calls. All is then quiet and I lay still. A point of light gleams on the remote hillside. Great. That could be the headlamp of another backpacker heading here. What happens if they arrive after I am asleep? Are there two lights? I look more closely, for more than a minute. They don’t seem to be moving. Maybe it is a radio tower of some type? Wait. Are those the shining eyes of an owl in that tree?

I get up. I grab my headlamp and walk 20 yards towards the large pine, searching its branches. No owl, and the mysterious light is still there in the distance, unmoving.

What would an owl see looking down at me now? A tiny human curled up in an empty shelter, illogically feeling exposed. A tiny human in on a hilltop in a vast forest, worried about things over which he has no control. A tiny human alone in the wild terrain of the southern terminus of Appalachia, searching for his place in nature. A lonely human on a planet full of billions of other creatures and humans, all with their individual goals and fears, trying to make sense of life.

That owl’s haunting cry spoke wisdom to me in a language I cannot translate, but understand deep in my bones. His message is not necessarily a comfort, yet it speaks to a connection of all things in nature, and of events unfolding just as they should. Amor fati. I lay back down and wrap myself tightly in the esoteric mystery of it all.

Deeply inhaling, I awake in darkness. A quick check confirms all of my things are still here. Though it is still well before sunrise, I slept soundly through the night. The fates have given me another day, and now is the time for coffee!

An overcast day evolves as daylight builds. Some low clouds hang over the few hilltops I can see through the break in the trees, but the scene is not interesting enough to photograph. I pack my stuff, say good bye to the shelter, and head down the trail towards Cheaha Falls.

Cheaha Falls

Cheaha Falls is only a short distance away downhill from the shelter. Yesterday I filled up on water at a bridge across the stream at the top of it. The waterfall itself, though, is in a rocky gorge below this bridge and there is no path down to it.

I step off the trail towards the rim of the gorge. From here I have to carefully pick my way down between the boulders on loose dry dirt. Fallen leaves make the descent even more treacherous. I clutch tightly onto rocks and small trees, trying not to think about how I will get back out of here.

The creek bed at the bottom of the ravine is choked with boulders. They are large enough to scramble across, and they are dry. Actually, the water level here looks incredibly low, leaving not much of a waterfall at all but the little amphitheater of stone is still an intriguing spot.

The trickling twin streams tumble between boulders toward a dark leaf covered pool. I capture a frontal shot and then find an easy route to the side.

From the side I can see the crevasse where the plunging water lands. It is just wide enough for me to clamber down for a close view. I can easily imagine that this waterfall would look breathtaking under conditions of much higher water flow. So, I mark it in my memories as a place I would like to return one day.

Out of the Woods

The sun is climbing and I begin thinking of my long drive home, so I gather my things to move on from the Cheaha Falls. The climb out of the gorge is actually less precarious than the descent into it. It is sweaty work, but I am soon back on the Chinnabee Silent Trail.

This backpacking loop connects the Pinhoti Trail, the Chinnabee Silent Trail, and the Skyway Loop Trail. I began on the Silent Trail and now, in another mile or so, I will end on it as well. It seems fitting. Other than the two thru hikers who passed my camp on night one, I have spoken to no one along this route.

The trail unwinds through the flat forest speckled with the brilliance of autumn foliage. It is a long mile to walk because by now I am looking forward to the return home. For a little while yet I absorb myself in the sound of leaves crunching under foot and of the breeze in the brittle foliage overhead.

I step from the edge of the forest into the grassy shoulder of the highway. I have that familiar experience of being hit by multiple impressions at once. I feel glad to be on the way home, yet sad to leave this place. Overall, I am grateful for the experience. I turn my truck out of the Turnipseed Campground parking lot onto the Skyway Mountainway, and see cloud capped hills before me.

The question, as always, is where does the road lead next?

I hope you all have enjoyed the Pin-Chin-Sky Loop! I had a great time there and will definitely consider more adventures in Alabama. Let’s continue it in the comments with your impressions, input, and questions-

So, where does the road lead from here? I actually don’t have a clear answer right now. With all of the craziness around the holidays, work, and a birthday somewhere in there, this was likely my last backpacking trip of 2024. I have some trips in mind for 2025, but nothing concrete.

I have been worn pretty thin here lately, so I plan to back off a bit the next couple of weeks. Maybe I’ll come up with something easy to post, maybe I’ll re-post an older article, or I could just take a week or two off (not likely). All I’m saying is no promises, but I don’t want anyone to think I’ve ghosted.

Anyway, I do plan on making an end of year Map Check post. At the very least I’ll see you then, maybe with some updates, and definitely ready to charge into the next season of Field Notes!

Its that time of year- we’re counting down 2024 in weeks instead of months! Time for my 2025 calendar! I chose some of my favorite images, mostly from this year, but a couple from last year, to highlight each month.

The calendar is 11x8.5 inches and wire bound. It comes in at about $25 + shipping, depending on your location. You might recognize many of these photos from past issues of Field Notes. It might also make a great gift for anyone who loves the outdoors. Any purchase goes directly to support my work and is much appreciated! Get it here-

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By the way, I’m still offering this PDF ebook to any subscriber to Field Notes, but I’ve encountered a technical problem that I haven’t been able to resolve with Substack. If you can’t download it from the Welcome email you receive, just reply to the email and let me know. I’ll send you a link to it in Google Drive.