Wild Cohutta

Edition XI: Backpacking and photographing the Conasauga River and Panther Creek Falls in the Cohutta Wildernesss of North Georgia

The wilderness pulls at me gently, invisibly, yet constantly, as a compass needle is drawn to the North. Days pass by in a mundane gray blur of rising grocery prices, politics, and absurd sensationalist news cycles. A world of ghosts and illusions all screaming for attention. The primeval silence of the dark woods eclipses it all, and this is where I must always return.

The Cohutta Wilderness in Northwest Georgia is a land of remote isolation. At nearly 37000 acres, it is the largest wilderness area in the Southern Appalachian Mountains and, some say, the largest East of the Mississippi River. While not famous for magnificent vistas, this land is rugged, wild, and free.

Through this land flows the Conasauga River, crisscrossed along its length by the Conasauga River Trail. From the trail head at Betty Gap the rough and small Birch Creek tumbles along until it merges with Cowpen Creek and other unnamed tributaries to form the Conasauga. A river of untamed allure, it is distinguished by the numerous river crossings of the trail.

The Conasauga River Trail has drawn my interest for a long time. It is because of the many river crossings that I plan this as a summer trip and look forward to the cool bathing of the pristine waters. As I plan the route I discover Panther Creek, which intersects the Conasauga in the heart of the wilderness. Traced back upstream, this creek leads to Panther Bluff, a rock strewn cliff where Panther Creek Falls cascades 80 ft down. The falls underscore a rare view of the mountains to the West. My goal is to photograph the sunset from the top, while also catching images of the cascading rivers leading to and from.

A long rough drive on rutted gravel roads culminates at the trailhead at Betty Gap on the morning of July 12, 2023. The trip is just for one night. In such close proximity to rivers and streams, I opt to not carry any extra water. So, starting out, my backpack feels pleasantly light.

The trail descends steeply from the start, giving me pause to consider the return trip. Undeterred, I continue on. Several small creek crossings early on are not unusual for the mountains and are hardly worth the mention. Birds flit through the late morning tree-filtered sunlight. High above, the lonely cry of a hawk echoes in the hills.

The river grows in its descent, and I stop to photograph the water splashing through moss covered boulders. The first significant river crossing reveals no way to avoid wet feet. I strip off my boots in exchange for water shoes that are little more than modern day moccasins. The water is cool and welcomed. Between photographing and river crossing, the effort of dropping my pack repeatedly becomes tiresome and tedious. The trek is very slow. I decide to throw my boots on my pack and hike in the water shoes.

The soft soles of the shoes demand extra care with each footstep. The weight of my backpack drives down through my feet onto every rock and stick in the path. Though they hold strong for a long time, my feet begin to plead for relief. The trail is arduous with countless blown down trees. Overgrown blackberry brambles and yellowroot obscure the path. Thorns and twigs tear the skin of my sockless ankles. No trail blazes guide me in this wilderness and at times I miss the trail. The July heat grows stifling and sweat rolls down my arms. I look forward to each of the many plunges across the river as a necessary respite.

I arrive at Panther Creek and change back into my boots in preparation for a drier, rocky climb. One more unexpected river crossing emerges. I am tired and do not want to drop my pack to change footwear yet again. The quick hop across the river does not work out, and now my boots are soaked for the last big push.

Panther Creek Trail is even more scraggy than the Conasauga. I force myself up, step by step, knowing that my destination inches closer. The trail seems to vanish in an angled field of overgrown rocks and boulders. Fallen trees and branches cause me to scrape my knees crawling under or twist awkwardly going over. I dodge poison ivy sporadically reaching out, but everywhere is knee high stinging nettle. The nettle is unavoidable. The brush of these venomous leaves mixes with the rolling sweat and the countless scrapes and cuts in the flesh of my lower legs. As my lungs billow for air in the blistering afternoon sun, the nettle lights my shins on fire.

The Stoics advocate living in accordance with Nature. A seemingly simple concept, it has multi-layered meanings that delve fathoms deep. Here in this moment it instructs me to focus on climbing Panther Bluff and ignore the discomforts that I cannot control or avoid. I center my mind on the beauty of this land and my desire to share images of its wonders. The beauty and the suffering are intertwined and inseparable. I embrace them both. This is the essence of wilderness. I push on, and welcome the pain.

As I toss these thoughts in my mind I begin to notice blackberries. They are beginning to ripen and every few yards I find some to enjoy. The tart sweetness is just enough to keep me moving and feeling hydrated. As a supplicant to Nature, she presents me with merciful gifts of the land.

I arrive at the top of Panther Falls. Here the cascading creek tumbles over a ledge, with a view of tree covered mountains sprawling into the distance. I set up camp and soak my legs in the cleansing cold wash of the stream. I watch as the sun slowly sinks to the horizon.

The next day the return trip is just as challenging. I walk knowing that I have earned a treasure. It is an experience purchased with breath, sweat, and blood. This land is now a thread in the fabric of who I am. As I once again leave the wilderness behind, this wilderness has become even more a part of who I am.

I hope you have enjoyed this narrative of my adventure in the Cohutta Wilderness. Its a mostly true rendition. If you have any comments or feedback about this post or the publication in general, I’d love to hear them. Comment below!

I’m still working on photos from Shining Rock, and I want to get Cohutta pics out soon, too! Please be patient and check back often.

Keep your boots muddy (but not soaked in a river)!