Day 8, Martin Creek to Chestnut Ridge

Like our campsite from the night before, last night's campsite was located close to a creek. When we began hiking at 8:15 this morning, we first had to cross the creek again.

The temperature was cool enough that I wanted to keep on my jacket when we began walking, but I didn't need it after just 20 minutes.

As soon as we crossed the creek, we began to see a forest littered with downed trees, much like we saw yesterday after leaving Warwoman Dell. The trail had been cleared by a maintenance crew, thankfully, and we didn't find any obstacles along the way.

The trees had been toppled by a bad storm, but I wasn't certain how long ago that happened. Looking at the cut logs, I guessed the storm occurred less than a year ago. There wasn't any sawdust on the ground. Leaves on the downed trees were withered and brown, though they were still attached to branches.

The storm must have been especially severe because many trees were uprooted and knocked over. We passed one tree that wasn't uprooted. The storm snapped and splintered it in half.

When Civilian Conservation Corps units were deployed to areas like this in the 1930s, the men were sometimes called "Roosevelt’s Tree Army." One of their chief jobs was planting trees.

Rabun County had four CCC camps of 200 men each, and one was located near where Polecat and I camped last night. The men reforested areas of the county that had been barren because of clear-cut logging. The forest we were walking through today is a legacy of the hard work by the CCC crews.

We didn't get far from our campsite before reaching a series of waterfalls on Martin Creek. A wooden bridge took us directly past one. A few minutes later we could see another, taller cascade from an overlook.

Historians who have studied William Bartram's journey say he passed this way in May 1775.

The first of the several short descents we would make today came at Courthouse Gap. Bartram walked through the gap while following an old trade route blazed by Native Americans. He continued from the gap to an abandoned Cherokee village called Stekoe, which stood near the present-day town of Clayton.

Bartram found stone piles there, which he presumed marked the graves of warriors killed in a battle with Creek Indians. There is no archeological evidence of Stekoe to be found today.

After Polecat and I walked through Warwoman Dell yesterday afternoon, we entered and camped last night in Warwoman Wildlife Management Area, 15,800 acres set aside by the state for hunting, fishing, and hiking. When we reached Courthouse Gap, the trail turned and followed the WMA's boundary for the next ten miles. Yellow aluminum signs posted along the trail marked the boundary. Most were scraped and jagged along the edges.

The signs had been chewed by squirrels. These and many other rodents don't have roots in their upper and lower incisor teeth. Because those teeth never stop growing, they chew on objects like these signs to keep their teeth at a comfortable length.

The trail led us around Rock Mountain on the next climb. I caught up to Polecat when he paused for a break at 11 a.m. We agreed to continue for another two miles, where we expected to find the next reported water source. We planned to eat lunch there.

After rounding the mountain, the trail dropped again and passed through Windy Gap. There were ATV trails in this area, and large boulders had been positioned across the Bartram to prevent riders from entering.

To find water sources and campsites along the trail, we relied on a GPS file I downloaded from a hiker's website a few weeks earlier. Unfortunately, the waypoints he marked on the route didn't always match what we found along the trail. In this case, the spot where we wanted to stop for lunch was labeled a stream. When I found a spring with a small trickle, I presumed that wasn't the correct spot. Also, Polecat wasn't there, so I kept walking.

A couple of minutes later, I found Polecat heading in my direction. He said he also never saw a stream, so we backtracked to the spring. It was tucked in among low-hanging rhododendron branches, making the spot a little difficult to collect water.

According to the GPS track, there were no more water sources to be found until we were far on the other side of Rabun Bald. We collected and filtered an extra amount to get us through tomorrow morning.

After lunch, our long, irregular climb continued before dropping to Wilson Gap. The time was nearly 1:30 p.m. when we got there.

A boulder trail marker at the gap said we were 5.6 miles from Rabun Bald. We were not speedy today but felt confident we could make it to the other side of the bald before dark.

The next-to-last climb took us over Wilson Knob. A small opening between trees offered a view on the way up. This provided a look at nearby ridges.

The last short descent we had to make went down to Saltrock Gap. We made the final push from there to the top of Rabun Bald. The trail made some switchbacks on the way up, the first we'd seen in a few days.

We found another spring at 3 p.m. This one was unexpected because it wasn't labeled on my GPS route. There was more mud here than flowing water, but we took advantage of it to top off a water bottle.

We followed the trail through a green tunnel of rhododendrons before popping out at an opening at the top. Despite its name, Rabun Bald wasn't bald. It may have been in the past, but today, the mountaintop was covered by trees surrounding an old fire tower. There were no other hikers here when we arrived at 4:25 p.m.

Georgia's tallest mountain, Brasstown Bald, is just 88 feet higher. If we had been there instead, we would likely have seen several tourists wandering about. A paved road leads to the top of that mountain, but Rabun Bald's summit is only accessible by hiking trails.

The tower we saw here looked much different than when it was constructed in the 1930s. Back then, a metal-framed enclosure with windows stood on the rock base. The base is all that remains today. The enclosure that protected foresters while watching for fires was dismantled in the 1970s after the fire tower was decommissioned. A wooden railing was installed in its place to allow the public to enjoy a 360-degree view.

For a time, a school also stood near the top of the mountain. A survey of Rabun County schools published in 1914 said Bald Mountain School was located here. That would have made the one-room log cabin the highest school in Georgia.

According to the report, as many as 17 students in eight grades were taught here by one teacher, Miss Ethel Ritchie. She was provided no maps, charts, globes, or library books.

We didn't linger for long at the tower. We knew only a couple more hours of daylight remained for the day and didn't know how far we had to go before finding a campsite. Fortunately, that didn't take as long as we feared.

We found a campsite about a mile down from the top. It wasn't marked on the GPS track, but when I looked closer at the map on my Gaia app, I discovered a campsite icon printed there. This was something we wanted to be sure about because camping isn't usually allowed near a structure like a lookout tower.

Today was another short mileage hike, but we had no reason to complain. It had been an enjoyable day and less strenuous than we expected.

We had now climbed two tall mountains, Sassafras Mountain and Rabun Bald, but ahead on the Bartram Trail are two much taller mountains. They are Wayah Bald (5,385 feet) and Cheoah Bald (5,062 feet), and we will have to climb those in North Carolina before we finish this hike. And like today, I don't know much about the trail in between.