Although our adventure began the day after the first day of Fall, this trip gave a new meaning to the word fall. I lost track of how many waterfalls we saw as we hiked in and around the Cherry Hills Recreation Area Campground in upstate South Carolina and Gorges State Park just over the border in North Carolina. And the word has yet another meaning for my good-humored friend and hiking buddy Dianne.
9.23.22 This was the second time Dianne and I have tent-camped at Cherry Hills, and it won’t be the last. This forest service campground just minutes north of Oconee State Park doesn’t have electric or water hook-ups, but has hot showers and flush toilets and is cheap: $23 for two nights with my National Park Senior Pass. I had considered driving Elvis the Motor Coach up there, but was glad I didn’t: the forest service roads that we shuttled to would not have been kind to big Elvis. The weather was perfect for tent-camping: cool and clear.
We settled in with Dianne’s delicious meal of sausage, taters and veggies cooked over a campfire and then crawled into the tent for an early night’s sleep. Except I didn’t. I shivered and shook all night long, with no one to blame but myself. When I packed the day before, the daytime temperatures had been close to 100o so I packed my summer sleeping bag and summer clothes. Yes, I checked the weather for the area, but overnight temps of 50o sounded quite nice. Well, guess what? It got into the 40’s that night and I just about froze my *** off. My summer blood is still quite thin, but I learned a good lesson.
9.24.22 After a quick breakfast, we shuttled Dianne’s car to the southern trailhead of the Winding Stairs trail. The directions said to follow Cheohee Road (also called Tamassee Road) for 3.4 miles. Driving on a forest service road gives new meaning to the term mountain miles. Traveling those 3.4 miles seemed like it took hours. We had a bit of trouble deciding where the trailhead parking area was, but finally parked just before the bridge crossing the West Fork of Townes Creek. Then back up that road for another couple hours (actually just 15 minutes) to park my car just before the turnoff to Cherry Hills campground.
Finally, we were on the trail again. The sky was crystal blue and the temperature was cool, but soon Dianne was pulling off her light jacket (she was obviously more prepared than me). The creek chatter accompanying us soon became a roar as we neared our first falls: Miuka Falls. Not satisfied with the view from a rocky outcropping on the spur trail, we scrambled down a path to the base of the falls to see the splendid 75-foot cascade. Totally worth the climb!
Back on the trail, we amused ourselves finding perches for our fine friend Gnotty Gnome. He and his buddy Gneiss Gnome kept us entertained as we ambled along.
Our hikes tend to be punctuated with many pauses and stops to admire, wonder, and try to identify the various plants and other living things on the trail.
We were baffled by a number of round, wrinkled objects with reddish squiggles on it. A fruit? I pulled out a knife and sliced it in half where we were amazed to see a deep red layer surrounding a white core. Still wondering if it were a fruit, I ran my finger on the red part and touched it to my tongue, about the same time that Dianne (the smarter one of the bunch) pulled it up on her Seek app. It was an Acorn Plum Wasp Gall. Not edible.
Further inquiry was in order. The Acorn Plum Gall is caused by a Cynipid insect wasp. The wasp lays her eggs in or around acorns on an oak tree. As the larva hatches and grows, it secretes a substance that causes the oak to form an abnormal tumor-like growth which in turn protects the developing larva. Oak galls are high in tannic acid, hence the bitter taste on my lips, and apparently I now don’t have to worry about dysentery, ulcers, hemorrhoids, diarrhea, cholera, or gonorrhea. Good to know. But next time I’ll do research before tasting.
Our next exploration led us down a spur trail toward Secret Falls, which still remained a secret to us since all we found was a section of very slippery sloping rock. Dianne demonstrated the perils of wet rock the hard way with a painful fall, bunging up her forearm even as she tried to navigate the rock carefully. Always a trouper, Dianne took it in stride and we used the opportunity to talk through a series of “what ifs” that I hope we never have to enact.
The rest of this trail was mercifully uneventful, with only minor confusion as we hit the southern trailhead to find that our car was not in sight. A quick check of our directions with a lesson in compass reading, and we headed down the road a short distance to the car, which was waiting patiently for us. We ate our lunch creekside, watching a family with three young kids panning for treasures…the real treasure being the memories they were making.
Back in Dianne’s car, we drove past waterfall #3, aptly named Cheohee Road Falls. At 15 feet, it was not as high as Miuka Falls but still quite pretty. Leaving my car at Cherry Hills, we drove straight to Burrell’s Ford, our next trailhead for the hike to Big Bend Falls.
Since we had seen it last time we were on this trail, we didn’t take the spur trail to King Creek Falls. We soon found ourselves following the Chattooga River and the lure of the water was too much to pass up. We shed our shoes (and maybe some other apparel) to cool off in a quiet pool. In spite of a crowded parking lot at Burrells Ford, we encountered few people on the trail, a good thing, all things considered.
Walking along a pine-covered path, there might have been another fall, a soft one this time. However, as there was no photographic evidence, this occurrence can neither be confirmed nor denied.
Gnotty and Gneiss had a great time posing for the camera on their favorite fungi: the Painted slipperycap (Suillus spragueli). Although I knew better than to eat unfamiliar fungi, it turns out that these mushrooms were edible. Nevertheless, their upturned caps made a perfect perch for our little gnomes.
As we got closer, the thunder of Big Bend Falls told of its immense power but vegetation blocked our view. A deeply rutted and steep path led downward, so down we scrambled. Ducking under low-hanging branches, we dropped our packs at a turn in the path. Our poles were next to go since we needed both hands to grab onto roots and branches for stability. The last little bit had us scooting sideways along a rock ledge. By the time we got down to the water, we felt like we had passed some sort of survival test.
Although spectacular in its power, Big Bend Falls is not impressive in height. Called Big Bend for the hairpin turn in the river just above the falls, its claim to fame is that it is the highest single drop on the Chattooga River. Our claim to fame is that we didn’t kill ourselves climbing down and then back up!
After all this excitement, the trail uphill and back to Cherry Hills was a slog. We ended up on the gravel Big Bend Road for a while until we finally made our way back to the Big Bend Trail and across Highway 107 to my car.
We had hiked 4.6 miles on the Winding Stair Trail and then 7.2 miles to Big Bend Falls for a total of 11.8 miles. Not too shabby for two women who had vegetated in A/C for most of the summer!
9.25.22 Having slept much warmer thanks to an extra pair of Dianne’s pants and two towels tucked into my sleeping bag, I was ready for another day’s adventure. We were eager to explore Gorges State Park just over the border into North Carolina on the Blue Ridge Escarpment.
Since it was only 30 minutes from Cherry Hills, we arrived to an empty parking lot just before 9:00. We had the trail to ourselves all the way to Rainbow Falls. For the most part, the trail hugs the Horsepasture River, leading to multiple distractions as we explored many of the side paths down to the water. By the time we got to the falls with its 125-foot drop over a rock wall, the sun was up and the rainbow was in full bloom. In a word, it was stunning.
Draped over the lower viewing deck was a pair of damp Speedo swim trunks. Since we were the first ones up there and no bare-bottomed swimmers were in sight (thank goodness), I tucked the pants into my pack to take home. Adding these to the pair of leather gloves I found earlier at our campsite and the wet and dirty Reebok socks I found just a ways up the trail, I’m discovering that in addition to fig leaves, Nature has her own way of outfitting the willing hiker who has a stout washing machine.
Having oohhed and ahhed to the point of breathlessness at the majesty of Rainbow Falls, we headed further upstream to Turtleback Falls. Not nearly as high but much more entertaining, we took front row seats on a rock across from the falls.
As we sat enjoying our refreshments, four energetic boys came barreling down to the river. Two of the more daring immediately scrambled to the top of a rock and jumped off into the pool at the base of the falls, then swam to the other side where they climbed a rope up the steeply-sloped rock. The remaining two boys threw them a bag containing inflatable tubes, which they blew up and used as props for clowning around. Soon all four were having a grand time tubing down the falls. Although my mama’s heart caught in my teeth each time they slid down, I also admired their feats of derring-do and spirited fun as I scored each ride with fingers held high.
Dianne and I continued upstream for a short way, stopping at a quiet pool. Inspired by the boys’ lively antics, we shed our shoes and waded in the chilly water, coaxing ourselves deeper and deeper until we were fully submerged. Reluctantly we climbed out and dried off as best we could in the late September warmth, donned our shoes, and headed back down the trail toward home.
This hike was only a little over four miles round trip and was classified as strenuous since the trip back was mostly uphill, although it didn’t seem so hard since we were refreshingly cool. Enamored by the area and its many waterfalls, we both agreed that we need to come back again to further explore this natural playground. And maybe next time we’ll bring tubes.
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