Day 1, Table Rock State Park to Cantrell Campsite

Polecat lives in my neighborhood, so my wife and I didn't have far to drive when we picked him up this morning at 7:15. Sasquatch was driving today from his home in Colorado. As planned, we met him at Russell Bridge in South Carolina. For us, it was a 3.5-hour drive.

The bridge that crosses the Chattooga River was where the connector from the Foothills Trail met the start of the Bartram Trail. Sasquatch left his car in a hiker parking area near the bridge for when we returned there in six days.

Polecat and I put a cache of food in Sasquatch's car, and then we left shortly after 11 a.m. The drive from Russell Bridge to the FHT's eastern terminus in Table Rock State Park took about one hour.

After Kim took our photo, we said goodbye to her and set off down the trail.

The state park asks overnight hikers to register, but there are no fees or permits required to hike the Foothills Trail. Dispersed camping isn't allowed inside the park but is allowed without a permit beyond the park boundary.

We registered at the park's nature center and were on our way by 12:45 p.m.

I knew about the Foothills Trail's reputation for well-maintained footpaths and many bridges. Immediately, I began to see this was true, almost to an extreme. We started by walking on an asphalt trail with steps.

The whole trail wouldn't be this manicured, of course. It was only this tidy because most people walking this section are day hikers. The trail from the nature center led a short distance to a small waterfall.

Getting to Carrick Creek Falls only took a couple of minutes after leaving the nature center. The waterfall had a 15-foot drop. This one was modest compared to most we would see in the coming days.

Most of the elevation change on this trail is on the eastern end. The first four miles climb more than 2,000 feet. We were hiking the trail westbound. Some people claim it's easier to hike it by starting at the other end. That may be true, but for us at first, the trail barely felt as if we were climbing.

The trail went upstream along Carrick Creek and crossed it once. This was one of the rare times we had to rock hop instead of cross on a footbridge. There are dozens of bridges of all types on this trail.

Switchbacks helped to make the climb seem less steep. As we got farther away from the nature center, however, the steepness became more noticeable. Often where it was steep, steps were carved into the footpath.

Because we started late, we didn't stop for lunch until well past 1:30 p.m. Most day hikers must not venture far from the nature center because by this point we weren't seeing many of them.

One day hiker was an older man who told us he was hiking here to make sure he could handle climbs in Shenandoah National Park. I told him the trails there were much like this one, and he would do fine.

I didn't sense how high the trail had gone until 2:30 p.m. when I noticed a small gap in some trees. Through it, I could see a far distance across South Carolina.

More small waterfalls and bridges were to follow, including a long wooden bridge rebuilt this year.

Besides trail signs at every junction, blazes were painted on trees to make navigation easy. I never felt unsure if I was going the right way.

Blazes for the Foothills Trail were the same two-inch by six-inch rectangles of white paint found on the Appalachian Trail. Other trails in the state park also used painted blazes but in different colors.

We stopped for another break when we reached a rock outcropping called Bald Knob. The elevation here was 2,831 feet above sea level, and we weren't yet at the top of the climb.

Getting there felt like it took longer than it should, despite the climb's general ease. The time was now 3 p.m., and I was surprised to discover we had only gone 3.6 miles. When I remembered to include the lunch break we took, however, my pace no longer seemed slow.

The view from Bald Knob was worth stopping for several minutes, especially when the weather was so perfect. To our left and 2.3 miles away was Table Rock, the namesake of the state park.

According to a Cherokee legend, a giant once lived in the valley below. He feasted on food his servants left for him on the stone mountaintop. As he dined, the giant sat on a nearby mountain now called Stool Mountain.

Sasquatch, Polecat, and I decided at Bald Knob that we would walk five more miles today. That would get us to Cantrell Campsite before sunset. Our FarOut guide said the water there wasn't as plentiful as other locations, but we didn't think we would have a problem.

There weren't many more spots for a view on the remaining four-tenths-of-a-mile-climb to the top. The next views appeared where the trail crossed the boundary of the state park and entered Jocassee Gorges Wildlife Management Area.

The wilderness area covers about 43,500 acres. The name "Jocassee" is derived from a Native American word that means "place of the lost one." Despite its name, I had no worries about becoming lost because the trail was so well-marked.

Although dispersed camping is allowed in most locations outside the state park, the Foothills Trail Conservancy has designated campsites at several spots along the trail. Most have bear cables for hanging food.

We passed one campsite at 4:30 p.m. and another one soon after that. The campers already settled in at the second campsite were the last people we passed on the trail.

Like everything else on the FHT, the campsites were clearly identified with signs. Signs also pointed in the direction of water sources and other campsites. They used the same color scheme as the painted blazes.

The trail descended to a stream where a steel cable was strung across the water. This was one of the few places on the trail where we had to cross a stream without a bridge. The cable seemed unnecessary because the water was low and not swift. It may have been placed there because the stream might have a stronger flow during wet seasons.

After the stream, the trail started another climb. This one was short, not much more than a half-mile in distance before starting another descent.

After cresting the climb, the trail made another descent. This one was more gradual than the other two. The trail passed through a canopy of rhododendrons. A cistern that was the water source closest to our campsite was supposed to be on the other side.

I almost walked past it because a sign marking the spot was broken and lying on the ground. Sasquatch called out to me. He was standing at the cistern a few yards away from the trail.

I collected two liters and filtered enough to top off my water bottle before continuing the last tenth of a mile to the campsite.

Polecat was already setting up his tent when Sasquatch and I arrived at Cantrell Campsite at 6:45 p.m. Polecat didn't stop for water as we did, however, and had to backtrack down the trail to retrieve some when his tent was up.

The site was wide and flat. It had plenty of room for several tents, but we were the only campers there. The site had been the homestead of John L. Cantrell, who reportedly was one of the area's earliest white settlers. Remnants of his stone fireplace stood in the middle of the space.

Some flat stones from the ruins had been taken by campers and arranged as seats and benches around a fire pit.

Our daylight faded quickly as we prepared dinner. We had to finish eating and clean up with the light from our headlamps.

Although we were only on the trail for about half of the day, it was an enjoyable start to our hike. I was already seeing a stark contrast between the Foothills Trail and the Pinhoti Trail, which I finished just five months ago.

Nothing was left to chance on the FHT. Directional signs were posted at every junction. Bridges crossed nearly every stream. Blazes painted at regular intervals were reminders you were on the correct footpath. Except for one blowdown, the trail was clear the whole way.

Volunteer crews put so much effort into maintaining this trail that it almost felt overdone. I'm not complaining. I'm only marveling at what I saw compared to trails like the Pinhoti and the CDT. On those, I needed to stay constantly mindful of where I was and where I needed to go. Even the Appalachian Trail wasn't as buttoned up as this trail.

I've never hiked a trail quite like the Foothills Trail. I shouldn't get too used to it, though. I'm only going to be on it for five more days.