Day 12, Cherokee to Soco Creek

The "free breakfast" provided by our motel in Cherokee was worthless, consisting of a few packaged muffins and cold cereal. Polecat and I could have returned to the restaurant where we ate lunch yesterday, but we decided we didn't want to lose time doing that. Instead, we ate food that was left over from our last section.

The morning air was still chilly when we left the motel at around 8:30 a.m. We followed the same footpath we used yesterday until we reached the start of the Blue Ridge Parkway. From there, we had to walk on the roadway.

We didn't get far on the road before needing to stop. A herd of eight to ten elk arrived just as we approached the parkway's entrance sign. It seemed prudent to wait for these large beasts to cross in front of us.

I've had to pause while cows, bears, moose, rattlesnakes, and even a mountain lion passed me on the trail. This was the first time I stopped for elk, but it wasn't the first time I saw or heard them.

After they passed, we began a long and mostly continuous climb. Nearly all of the next 7.6 miles was on the parkway's pavement.

Blooming dogwood trees appeared along the road for the first few miles. There wasn't much traffic on the road. Several pull-outs were provided for motorists to stop and enjoy views, but most were empty.

The idea for the parkway was conceived in 1933 to connect Shenandoah National Park with Great Smoky Mountains National Park, when both parks were still in development. At the time, automobile travel was being actively promoted as a popular pastime, though the Great Depression had severely limited it as practical for many people. The U.S. government looked to the road as a way to pull the country out of severe economic hardship.

One of the viewpoints overlooked a spot called Ballhoot Scar. The unusual name comes from a term used by loggers in this part of Appalachia when logs were rolled or slid down a steep slope.

The ballhooting that took place here created a scar in the ground. Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to see the scar because it was located about 100 feet below the car pullout.

The trail briefly left the parkway's pavement at two places in the first 7.6 miles. A footpath went around and over narrow, long, and dark tunnels. Without the side trails, staying on the road would have been insanely dangerous.

In all, there are 26 tunnels on the parkway between Cherokee and Shenandoah National Park. These were the only ones where a trail went a short distance around them before returning to the road.

At the second of the tunnel bypasses, the trail followed remnants of a road. Most likely, it was used to move construction equipment when the parkway was extended to Cherokee.

This first section of the parkway followed a narrow strip of land that cut through the Qualla Boundary, land owned by the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians (EBCI).

Although some road signage and maps refer to the land as a reservation, it isn't the same as an Indian reservation in the western U.S. The Cherokee bought this land in 1870. It is just a portion of what was stolen from them when they were forcibly removed in the late 1830s.

Today, parcels of land within the boundary can be bought, owned, and sold by enrolled members of the EBCI tribe. About 80 percent of the land is owned by tribe members, and the rest is held in a federal trust.

The tribe operates its own government and police force, with some law enforcement roles handled by state and federal agencies.

Polecat and I stopped for lunch at a parkway overlook. From our spot looking across the Qualla Boundary, we could see Mount Chapman, Mount Sequoyah, and Mount Guyot. All three of these mountains are in GSMNP and more than 6,000 feet high. The AT doesn't go over those peaks but passes near them.

Although Polecat and I skipped that section of the Appalachian High Route on Day 9, we intend to return and connect those missing miles.

Finally at 1:15 p.m., another of the MST's round and white blazes told us to leave the parkway. We didn't begin walking on a single-track footpath yet, however. The trail turned to follow a gravel road maintained by the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

The road climbed well above the parkway and then passed Mile High Campground. The privately owned campground on Cherokee land was not yet open for the season, but a worker was there making preparations to open it on May 1.

We were following a ridge of mountains called the Plott Balsams. Five mountains in the range stand taller than 6,000 feet. The campground was at 5,403 feet and was the highest elevation for us today.

We then descended back to the parkway. Just before reaching it, we found a small stream. It wasn't marked in the FarOut app but was shown on a topographic map.

The stream probably doesn't flow year-round, but we were glad to find it. The time was 3:45 p.m., and we hadn't passed any other water source since leaving Cherokee this morning.

When we reached Docks Gap, we walked under the parkway. The trail left the gravel road on the other side of the parkway. At last, we were back on a single-track footpath for an extended distance.

We didn't see the parkway again for nearly two miles while following a nicely-maintained trail. It was mostly free of roots and rocks, with no steep sections.

This was a continuation of the descent that started at Mile High Campground. The trail dropped about 1,000 feet in 3.2 miles.

The descent ended at Soco Gap. Polecat and I crossed the parkway here and continued on a single-track trail on the other side.

A parkway exit ramp at the gap connected to U.S. 19. If we wished, we could have walked to the highway and hitched into Maggie Valley. This was an idea we briefly considered while planning our trip. It seemed unnecessary, however, because we had just stayed a night in Cherokee.

Looking back across Soco Gap, a tower caught my eye. I assumed it was an old fire lookout, but I later learned it was a cell tower designed to look like a lookout. This was done to conceal ugly antennas.

When the federal government began laying out plans for the parkway in the 1930s, Cherokee tribal leaders were asked to donate land needed to connect the road to GSMNP. The request opened a long set of issues the tribe had with government control of Indian affairs.

At the same time, the Great Depression was hurting the Cherokee people as hard as anyone in the U.S. For these reasons, the leaders refused to simply give away the land tribe members had paid for. Five years of negotiations eventually led to an agreement. Along with a promise to pay $40,000 for the land, the government agreed to improve a road that crossed here at Soco Gap, making it part of U.S. 19.

The section of the parkway connecting to Cherokee and GSMNP was completed in the 1950s.

A large patch of Thyme-leaf bluet was radiant in the late afternoon's sunshine when the trail left Soco Gap and began following an old logging road. The time was now approaching 5:30 p.m., and we were hoping to find a campsite soon.

We were still walking within Blue Ridge Parkway's boundary, though the roadway was no longer in sight. The parkway wasn't on a narrow strip of land as before. Nevertheless, unless we wanted to walk 10 miles farther, there would be no place to pitch our tents that wasn't within the boundary. Our only options were to illegally camp near the trail or bushwhack far off the trail to parts unknown.

At 6 p.m., we arrived at Howard's Bridge, which crossed the first of two forks of Soco Creek. The bridge was named in honor of Howard McDonald, the member and former president of the Carolina Mountain Club.

If you're keeping score, this was the third time we passed a spot on this hike that was named for McDonald. He must have been a one-man trail-building machine.

Knowing there wasn’t a legitimate spot to camp for a long way ahead, we decided to look for the flattest, widest spot with enough room for our tents.

That spot turned out to be the middle of the former logging road. Pitching our tents directly on the trail was hardly stealth camping, and we were uncomfortable with that. Still, it was the only reasonable decision to make. It also seemed like a safe bet that no hikers would come this way while we were here. We hadn't seen anyone on the trail all day long.

As always, we would use Leave No Trace principles. We also figured we would be gone long before another hiker would come this way.

No one would know we were here.