Larkspur flowers

You needn't gild the lily

Day 18, Narrows Picnic Area to Johns Mountain

Friday, April 29, 2022

A whip-poor-will started singing its annoying, repetitive tune just as I attempted to fall asleep last night. There is a legend that the whip-poor-will's song is a death omen, and somehow that felt fitting for a campsite surrounded by decaying garbage.

To shut out the incessant noise, I could have turned my thoughts to the morning, but I had already done that. It wasn't a pleasant mental picture. I had just finished reading several comments in FarOut that said mean dogs harassed and sometimes attacked hikers on the road we'd have to walk. We encountered loose, sometimes angry dogs in Alabama, but these were reportedly worse than that.

Weather Partly cloudy with temperatures from the low-50s to upper-70s
Trail Conditions A few short road sections, otherwise good trail with a small number of blowdowns and two stream fords
Today's Miles 16.4 miles
Trip Miles 256.7 miles

The whip-poor-will was the last sound I heard last night. I soon fell into a deep sleep. Tengo told me this morning he was awakened by a couple of ATVs driving on a road just up the hill from our campsite. He heard them stop, and then the riders got out and dumped garbage off the side of an embankment.

That tracked with everything else we saw yesterday, and sadly, that wasn't the end of it. We saw more trash as we began walking this morning.

The former sign post for Narrows Picnic Area

Although I didn't yet know our campsite was originally a public picnic ground that had to be closed because of vandalism, I saw a clue that made me wonder about the area's previous use. As we walked toward the road where the dogs lived, we passed a stone pillar. It was barely visible from the road, partially hidden by weeds and trees.

I learned later while researching this place that the pillar was part of a sign at the entrance of Narrows Picnic Area. The stub of a log that extended horizontally for the sign to hang on was still bedded in the stonework.

Tengo Hambre walks on West Armuchee Road

As soon as we started walking on West Armuchee Road, we anticipated trouble with the dogs. I was ready with some Milk Bone biscuits and a small canister of self-defense pepper spray within easy reach.

We only had to walk three-tenths of a mile on the road, and there was no traffic.

Cows stare from a pasture

Several cows eyed us suspiciously as we walked by. We weren't threatened by them, and thankfully, we were never threatened by dogs, either. The dogs were contained behind a fence. Other than loud barking, they didn't bother us.

Tengo Hambre walks on a single-track trail

Although the sun was hidden by a thin layer of clouds, the temperature heated quickly. We were grateful to leave the asphalt road when the trail turned to follow a dirt footpath.

A tree with a Pinhoti Trail emblem tacked to it

For the next 2.3 miles, the trail gradually climbed toward the top of Strawberry Mountain. The route was smooth and we cruised to where it turned near the summit.

A couple of places on the 2.4-mile descent caused moments of confusion, however. They happened when we came to roads where the trail wasn't clearly marked. We had to scout around to find where the trail continued on the other side of the road.

A hiker named Firefly

Near the bottom of the descent, just before the trail crossed West Armuchee Creek, we met the first hiker we had seen in six days. He said his trail name was Firefly. To his and Tengo's surprise, they both grew up in the same hometown.

Firefly told us he started hiking the Pinhoti from Flagg Mountain eight days before us. He had to get off the trail in his first week after being bitten by a dog. Fortunately for him, his mother lived in a town near the northern terminus. He was able to recover there, though he needed rabies shots to prevent infection.

He completed some northern sections of the Pinhoti with day hikes during his recovery time, and only recently returned to overnight backpacking. He was now hiking south.

Tengo Hambre fords across West Armuchee Creek

After a long chat with Firefly, which included the usual exchange of trail information, Tengo and I continued down a gravel road to the creek. The creek was shallow enough for vehicles to cross, so it wasn't difficult for us to get to the other side.

We then stopped to eat lunch and filter some water.

Tengo Hambre walks on a gravel road

The trail continued to follow the gravel road after the creek crossing. That went eight-tenths of a mile before turning to follow a short section of East Armuchee Road. We then returned to a single-track trail.

The trail has dirtbike tracks

Some tread marks from a motorbike were on the trail, but we didn't see anything motorized. The trail was smooth, and it didn't seem like dirtbikes or ATVs used the trail regularly. The damage they cause is usually obvious.

Trees have been removed from a forest

We walked through a forest on this section that had been thinned. It wasn't clear-cut, and there was no logging in the area today. I was glad we didn't need to dodge lumber trucks like we did yesterday.

East Armuchee Creek

Three hours after we crossed West Armuchee Creek, I crossed East Armuchee Creek. It was also shallow, but this time there wasn't a road.

Tengo had fallen behind me and still hadn't arrived by the time I finished filtering another liter of water. The trail was a little difficult to see on the other side of the creek, so I made an arrow out of sticks on the creek bank to help him find the right direction.

Tengo Hambre catches up

When Tengo caught up to me about 45 minutes later, he said he never saw the arrow. I thought maybe he had slowed down and was starting to lose energy, but he never fell far behind again and sometimes walked ahead of me.

We had already walked up and down a couple of hills. Now starting from the creek, we were on a long climb. This 5.2-mile section to the top of Johns Mountain climbed 1,100 feet.

The route wasn't difficult, and except for where we had to cross a couple of fallen trees, we kept moving without stops.

Larkspur flowers

That's not entirely true. I stopped more than once to take photos of larkspur flowers. There were at least three different varieties of them on the climb.

Water pools at a spring

With less than a mile before reaching the top of Johns Mountain, the trail joined a gravel road, which we followed the rest of the way. A small spring flowed near the junction with the road, and we knew this was our last water source until we started down the mountain tomorrow.

I scooped enough water from a small pool to collect and filter two liters. That would be enough for dinner and breakfast, plus the distance we had to go tomorrow morning before getting to the next water source.

A gravel road to the top of Johns Mountain

The gravel road to the top wasn't steep. We made it to the mountain's summit shortly after 6 p.m.

The road was closed in 2019 because of severe vandalism (sound familiar?), but it was open today, and we didn't see much graffiti.

A view from Johns Mountain

Johns Mountain stood 1,683 feet above sea level. It was named to honor John Fields, another Cherokee Indian who was deported to Oklahoma on the Trail of Tears. I was struck by the shameful absurdity of this. Native Americans were brutally forced from homes on land that bears their names.

The road ended at a large parking lot. A fire lookout tower used to stand nearby. It was replaced by a wooden viewing platform. Although only one car was parked in the lot when we arrived, we wondered if more people would show up soon to watch the sunset. And because this was a Friday night, we had concerns about drunken parties.

A hiker commented in FarOut that they were harassed by someone who drove up here at 9 p.m. We didn't see any signs posted about no camping in the area, but it seemed smart for us to find a spot out of sight.

The Johns Mountain Trail was a 3.2-mile trail that looped from the top of the mountain. Combined with the Pinhoti, it made a five-mile loop.

We followed the Johns Mountain Trail a couple hundred yards to a spot that looked like it had been previously used for camping. Two people walking back to the car in the parking lot passed us while we were setting up our tents. No one else arrived after they left.

Sunset viewed from Johns Mountain

After an awful day on the trail yesterday, today was completely opposite. The walk was enjoyable, we found plenty of water, and we weren't even bothered by the mean dogs we were expecting to find.

To end this pleasant day, Tengo and I returned to the viewing platform after dinner to catch the sunset. We stood quietly as the sinking sun scattered brilliant colors across the sky.

I don't ask for a lot when I hike. I don't need breathtaking scenery and beautiful weather every day. Every moment doesn't need to be perfect and memorable. And today wasn't. I only want each day I'm on a trail to be, on balance, a positive experience. Ordinary days can be special.

Thankfully, today returned to that.

You needn't gild the lily, offer jewels to the sunset
No one is watching or standing in your shoes
Wash your lonely feet in the river in the morning
Everything promised is delivered to you
Don't neglect to pick up what your share is
All the winter birds are winging home now
Hey, love, go and take a look around you
Nothing out there you haven't seen before now
But you can wade in the water and never get wet
If you keep on doin' that rag
Wade in the water and never get wet
If you keep on doin' that rag

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