Most of the folks who read my blog know about my connection to Chimney Rock State Park. I worked there for 11 years when it was still privately owned, during what many have said was the Golden Age of Chimney Rock Park. This time was right after the filming of
The Last of the Mohicans, the last running of the historic Chimney Rock Hillclimb, the 50th Anniversary celebration of the elevator, and the 100th Anniversary of Chimney Rock Park. Because of the film, during the next ten years after its release, the Park experienced the greatest surge in attendance in the Park's history, hitting its first 3,000 people day on Labor Day Weekend in 1996.
When I left in 2003, I had no idea what course the future would take for Chimney Rock Park and I was devastated when a few years later, the Park went on the real estate market. I feared, as most people did, that the Park would be sold to a developer and turned into a Ghost Town or Dollywood type attraction, or a high-end gated community with a golf course on the top of the mountain which would have been even worse.
Fortunately, the State of North Carolina felt the same way that most people did and through the work of a massive grassroots effort, was able to purchase the Park, making it the centerpiece of the new Chimney Rock State Park. I sincerely believe that for the sake of the mountain, this was the best decision.
Most of my 11 years at the Park revolved around protecting the natural resources. The Skyline/Cliff Trail was essentially my home away from home. I knew every rock and root along the trail, to the point that I could walk it blindfolded and never stumble. I knew the location and name of all the plant species along those two trails and their significance to their specific ecological community. It came as quite a shock when I found out that the State had called for the closure of the Skyline/Cliff Trail. The message from the State was that the trail and its numerous boardwalks were not up to the standard required by the State's engineers. Well, I personally felt (and still do) that those engineers didn't know what they were talking about and that they are holding our state parks to a ridiculously conservative standard, for the sake of what I don't know. I guess that's a discussion topic for another day. When I found out about the closure, my concern was not only not being able to go back up there and take my family, but what was going to happen to the trail if no one was maintaining it?
Since the trail closure, I have mostly stayed out of the Park other than doing the occasional guided hike because it brings me a lot of sadness. Change is hard for everyone, and I am no exception. Not being able to access what I consider to be the crown jewel of Hickory Nut Gorge is a travesty and this is an opinion shared by many. Those who don't know the Park don't necessarily care, but the champions of the Park who know its history and have experienced it in its full glory need the Skyline/Cliff Trail open in order to experience the Park in a meaningful way.
My experience as the Park's Naturalist from '97 to '03 gives me a lot of insider information that the State either does not know or has been forced to learn on its own, so it's always interesting to talk to the Park's rangers and superintendent about how things are going. I am always willing to offer facts, opinion, and advice when I am asked (and probably sometimes when I'm not). I truly believe that the State Park staff is genuine and certainly have the best interests of the Park in mind and want to see it be as successful as possible.
I was recently appointed to the Park Advisory Committee. It was an appointment that I was very honored to receive and happy to accept. I was speaking with James Ledgerwood, the Park Superintendent about the Skyline Trail demolition project which was recently started and I thought it might be neat to provide a former insider's perspective on things since the dream to re-open the Skyline Trail may one day become a reality. I have also wanted, for a long time, to check on the Gorge's only known population of federally endangered Rock Gnome Lichen, so being able to hike the trail one more time would provide an opportunity to do that as well. James agreed that it would be good for the public to know what things look like out there and agreed to let me go for all the reasons I just stated.
I arranged to meet with Ranger Tyson Phillips, whom I have gotten to know quite well since the creation of the State Park. Tyson is heading up the demo project on the trail and was genuinely interested in my thoughts on the project and perspective on the past as he had not seen the Skyline Trail in its glory days.
We took the elevator, which is finally working now, and proceeded up the trail, making a stop at Devil's Head (more or less for my sake). One of the things that became quite clear to me is that 11 years have passed since I worked at the Park. Many trees that I knew have been cut because they were damaged or just old, so things didn't quite look the same as it did years ago. Fortunately some things take so long to change, we never notice it in our short time of existence. The Devil's Head is no exception.
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The Devil's Head |
We proceeded through the Skyline Trail entrance and came to the first section of trail that my crew had worked on a couple of years before I left. This particular section, like many others along the Skyline Trail was continuously wet due to seepage and runoff, so we were always trying to come up with a solution to those problems. The end result worked like a charm.
The next section that really brought back some great memories was in one of the switchbacks. The trail was badly eroded as I remember it. Remsen Behrer and Donnie Tessneer spent two months working on this section of trail, levering giant boulders out of the trail which were twisted and set into new positions, creating a new set of stairs that were as artistic as they were functional. Their work would briefly set the course and standard for trail construction in the Park, at least until Park ownership changed. To this day I am still amazed at the level of craftsmanship that was put into the various trail projects that Remsen and Donnie worked on. They truly left their stamp on the Skyline Trail, and a legacy for others to attempt to match.
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The handiwork of Remsen Behrer and Donnie Tessneer. |
A couple of years after the Skyline Trail was closed in 2008, the State saw fit to open the trail up to Exclamation Point. This involved making some additions and improvements to the trail surface, further addressing the erosion issues that we had set out to fix many years before. The State's addition of gravel and wood water breaks helped improve the walking surface, making the average visitor's trail experience much more enjoyable.
We worked our way up to Exclamation Point, which has changed somewhat in that some of the pathways have meandered a little and several trees have died. A large red cedar that we once used as a rappelling anchor has died and all of the table mountain pine seedlings that were planted many years ago appear to have all died as well. Ecologically speaking, I would say that it probably needs a good fire on the point to get everything back in balance. We also passed by the first rain shelter on the trail which has been there since I first visited Chimney Rock Park way back in 1988. I remembered all the people who used to take shelter in that structure during thunderstorms and how I always thought that there was no such thing as safe shelter when you were on the edge of a cliff.
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Exclamation Point rain shelter |
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View along the north face where the Skyline/Cliff Trail is located. |
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Star Coreopsis (Coreopsis pubescens) |
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Slender-leaf Gerardia (Agalinis tenuifolia) |
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Granite Dome Goldenrod (Solidago simulans), a rare species |
Tyson led the way around the barricade and we proceeded out the closed trail. I immediately could tell that things were no longer the same. The trail was covered with debris, such that the former trail looked more like a relic of the past, nearly disappearing in places with the growth of Carolina rhododendron and blackberry. Everything was so shaded and it became quite apparent that the lack of light penetration on an already light starved trail was appearing to impact the plant diversity along the trail.
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Can you see the trail? |
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Boardwalk has been significantly overgrown. |
As we walked along the trail, many of the once familiar steps were alien to me. Plants grew in the path. The boardwalks were slick with algal growth from lack of traffic. The amount of deterioration and overgrowth that has occurred in the six years of closure was truly mind-blowing. It became quite clear to me that the boardwalks were both a blessing and a curse. The intention for building all of those wooden structures was good because it was seen as the best method for protecting the trail surface from erosion and thus protecting the plant diversity as a result. The drawbacks were maintenance and the difficulty of constructing wooden structures in a place where accessibility is horrible. This was a fact that the Park was faced with early on when the trail was first constructed and remains an issue today as the State Park considers its options for re-opening the trail in the future.
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Broken handrails. |
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We used to keep the vegetation pruned along this boardwalk. |
One argument that has been presented is why not just take out the boardwalk and let people walk on the old trail bed. The problem with this is that in some places there isn't an old trail bed or the trail bed runs across nothing but almost vertical rock face, tufts of grass, and rhododendron branches. The boardwalk in the picture above is anchored to the rock face that it traverses. The outside edge is a fast trip over the edge so some type of boardwalk structure is necessary in order for the trail to be safe for the public. With the engineering standards that the state requires and the expense of building a structure that meets those specifications, the impracticability of such an endeavor is quite clear.
We came to one of my favorite sections of the trail, an area that I always referred to as the "big seep." This particular section was always quite unique with various spray cliff associated plants. The seep never ran dry, even during years of drought. On this day, the water was running quite freely. It was the wrong time of year to see many of the flowering plants, but still quite beautiful, although the overgrowth of blackberry and fox grape seems to be negatively impacting the plant diversity in this particular location. Back in the day, great effort was made to keep the weeds at bay in order to highlight the more showy species. It just goes to show that disturbance, even man-made, is necessary to maintain the status quo of certain ecosystems.
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The "Big Seep" |
From this point, the boardwalk has really taken some serious damage. This area of the Skyline Trail was always subject to significant ice accumulation which almost always caused some type of damage to handrails or the boardwalk itself. Imagine six years of ice damage and it's possible to comprehend what begins to happen to the boardwalks along the way every winter.
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Wrecked by ice. |
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Overgrown and broken. |
From the big seep the trail is continuous boardwalk. When I first started at the Park, the boardwalk on this section of trail consisted of a long series of two 10-foot 2x12 boards laid side by side. Those were gradually replaced between '92 and '94 with an elevated boardwalk, designed to protect the forest floor and vegetation from erosion and foot traffic. At the same time the boardwalk was constructed the trail crew rebuilt the second rain shelter on the trail. That shelter still stands as well, but it, along with the Exclamation Point rain shelter will be torn down as part of the demolition project.
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The number two rain shelter marked the halfway point of the Skyline Trail. |
Shortly past the rain shelter is the highest point on the trail, at an elevation of 2,500 feet. It also is one of the most exposed and dangerous points on the trail, with very little protection on the outside of the boardwalk. This point has always been subject to interesting weather phenomena because of the way the bluff protrudes into the Gorge. Because of the elevation and exposure to the wind, during cold weather, when it is sleeting in the valley below, it may be snowing at this particular point.
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The highest point on the Skyline Trail. |
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Looking back toward Exclamation Point from the highest point on the trail. |
From this point, the trail goes back to a narrow dirt path with rock on one side and a sheer drop on the other, with only a railing and some rhododendron protecting the hiker. It also provides one of the more fantastic views along the trail as you turn the corner towards Hickory Nut Falls. Once you make the turn, the sound of pouring water can be heard as the trail begins to descend towards the final destination.
Traveling through this section takes the hiker through a small Carolina Hemlock bluff where large boulders lie on either side and in the trail. In this area is one of the old access points that was used for many years to haul lumber and other materials needed for construction of the trail in all of its various phases. Lying along the trail edge was a large pile of sawed up lumber, the remains of boardwalk that had recently been demolished. This caused me to pause, as I reflected on the many years of blood and sweat that went into carrying lumber and constructing a suitable walking surface, all gone in just mere days as the State Park staff has carried out their orders. Isn't it funny how this seems to be the way of things. It seems it is always so much easier to consume and destroy than it is
to create and share, or to recognize the efforts of others as we seek a path of our own.
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Note the pile of lumber. |
We proceeded on down the trail to the place where the trickle of a stream that forms Nature's Showerbath runs under the boardwalk. Tyson noted the difficulty that they would have removing boardwalk there due to the slick rocks and long drop below. I would have to agree with his assessment.
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The uphill side doesn't look too bad. |
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The downhill side is a little more foreboding. It's a looong way down! |
The next stop on our little trip was Peregrine's Rest, a platform built on an overhanging rock that affords the only view of Hickory Nut Falls on the Skyline Trail. The platform was built in '92 shortly after I started working at Chimney Rock. Overall, the platform is in pretty good shape, albeit not to the State's standards. The view of Hickory Nut Falls is almost non-existent as trees on the cliff edge below, once small in stature, have grown to view-obstructing heights. All that could be seen of Hickory Nut Falls was a small sliver of white beneath a tree branch. The rest of the waterfall was completely obscured, evidence of how time ever marches on and Mother Nature waits for no man.
As I talked with Tyson about Peregrine's Rest, my impression is that they would like to do something here in the future as plans for the new Skyline Trail develop. What that will be remains to be seen.
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The view of the Gorge is quite stunning from Peregrine's Rest. |
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You can just see barely see the falls through the tree branches. |
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A reminder of what used to be. |
From Peregrine's Rest, it was only a short distance before the boardwalk came to an abrupt end. The remaining sections of boardwalk have all been removed, exposing the bare trail surface that existed for so many years before there was any awareness of erosion issues or risk of trampling sensitive habitat.
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Looking back at the end of the boardwalk. |
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What was under the boardwalk. |
Without the boardwalk in place, the trail surface was terribly foreign to me. I almost felt awkward as I made my way along the old trail, understanding the reason why the boardwalk was built in the first place. The outside edge of the trail offers little to no protection other than thickets of rhododendron. In places where there had been no boardwalk, the Carolina rhododendron had encroached on the trail so much that the once four foot path was now no more than a couple of feet wide.
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You almost feel claustrophobic walking this section of trail. |
As we walked along I began to anticipate seeing the rock gnome lichen population which grew along the boardwalk. Rock gnome lichen (Gymnoderma lineare) is a federally endangered lichen that is know to only a few locations in North Carolina and Tennessee. The majority of sites are located at higher elevations on mountaintops where they are frequently bathed in fog. A handful of sites are located at lower elevations in escarpment gorges where fog and low clouds often exist, providing the needed shade and moisture that the lichen requires. Rock gnome lichen has significance as a possible environmental indicator due to its sensitivity to environmental change. Research and qualitative observation seem to indicate that the species may be impacted by acid rain deposition and the effects of global climate change.
The Chimney Rock State Park rock gnome lichen population is the only known population occurring in Hickory Nut Gorge. It was discovered in the Park in the early 90's by Elizabeth Feil who showed it to me. I later found a sub-population above the trail which was added to our list. In 1995, work began to develop a monitoring protocol for the species and soon after that we installed permanent plots for monitoring the health and status of the various clumps that covered the rock along the inside of the trail. From 1995 to 2006, monitoring was performed on an approximate 5-year basis. Since the Skyline Trail closed in 2008, no monitoring of any kind has taken place,so it was going to be interesting to see what changes had occurred with the population.
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A seemingly happy clump of rock gnome lichen. |
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Close-up of rock gnome lichen. |
Looks can always be deceiving. While the main clump appeared to be healthy, many of the smaller clumps along my permanent plots had either severely declined or disappeared entirely. I could not even find the pins marking the permanent plots because the once bare rock has been mostly covered by sphagnum moss, an associate species of rock gnome lichen. This was a bit of a surprising result, as I have never seen so much growth in the sphagnum along the trail here. It had always been fairly self-limiting, holding fast to the upper edge of the rock face, providing drip water to irrigate the lichen. What has caused this significant change? The area was never prone to human impact when the trail was open. There were no new light gaps that would seemingly increase sphagnum growth. This will be something worth researching to see what other populations are experiencing. Whatever the cause, it has severely impacted the already endangered lichen. Without continued monitoring of this population of rock gnome lichen to understand the dynamics at play, the future of the Gorge's only population is uncertain.
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This sphagnum covered rock face was once covered with scattered clumps of rock gnome lichen. |
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Rock gnome lichen has all but disappeared from this rock face where only a few clumps remain. |
Part of the significance of the Skyline Trail lies in the plant species that make their home there. The trail lies along the north-facing slope of Chimney Rock Mountain. The steepness of the slope, aspect, geology, and presence of water provide habitat for unusual plant occurrences. Many species that are more typically found at mid- to higher elevations occur along the Skyline Trail where many relic species have taken refuge. One example is Deerhair bulrush (
Trichophorum cespitosum), an Ice Age relic that typically occurs above 5,000 feet. It makes its home in Chimney Rock State Park because of the significant ice accumulation that occurs along the north-facing mountainside. Like rock gnome lichen, deerhair bulrush will likely be affected by climate change. Understanding these connections is important in understanding the impacts of climate change and the species that we may lose as a result.
Moving right along, we passed an area where the overlaying amphibolite makes contact with the underlying Henderson Gneiss (the dominant rock type of Hickory Nut Gorge). At this contact, a large drag fold is present. Over the years this fold has been eroded but is still visible. The vegetation has grown up around it nearly obscuring it. When the boardwalk was in place, it elevated hikers enough so that the fold was much easier to see. Yet another disappointment as the reality of a trail long gone began to sink in.
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The site of a unique drag fold, now obscured by vegetation. |
A couple of years before I left Chimney Rock Park, I was out on the trail one Saturday afternoon. Our typical rotation on weekends was for someone to be positioned at the top of the falls during the busy hours, with frequent rotation. It was my turn and a thunderstorm came up. I got under the roof of the rain shelter as the rain poured in buckets. All of a sudden there was a huge flash as lightning struck a huge hemlock on the Skyline Trail. I found out a short time later that a family made the mistake of taking shelter under that tree at the time of the strike. Fortunately nobody was hurt, but the tree was badly damaged. As Tyson and I continued our hike, we came to the giant tree which for years had been choked by cables that had been tied to it many years ago. One way or other the poor tree was destined to die either by strangulation, hemlock woolly adelgid infestation, or from the damage incurred by the lightning strike. All that remains now is the skeleton of a once mighty tree that stood like a sentinel on the way to Hickory Nut Falls.
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The skeleton of a once mighty tree. |
As we walked the last stretches of trail, it was pretty clear the purpose the boardwalks served where they had been built. Uneven trail surface, roots, and slick rock faces on the inside trail edge required great care in many spots, particularly where the removal of structures had exposed loose rocks and boulders that move at the slightest weight shift. As we picked our way along, it was just so amazing to me how different things were without the boardwalks and caused me to think about what the original trail builders must have seen as they picked their way along, trying to find the easiest route that would get them to their final destination.
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I can only imagine the number of sprained ankles that would have resulted here. |
After I passed the above rocky section, I looked to my left and saw where some vegetation had been cleared, leading to the old access road above. The old road was one of three access points that former maintenance crews had used to haul lumber and cold melt asphalt for distribution along the trail. Back in the day, the view of the road was obscured by the rhododendrons. When the crowds became a bit too tiresome, I would sometimes walk up on the road where I would often find dwarf rattlesnake plantain (Goodyera repens), a somewhat rare orchid that grows in hemlock forests. I would often use the access road as a way of sneaking up on people who ventured too far up the creek in order to steer them back to the safety of the trail.
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Cleared access point. |
From this point we entered another one of my favorite places on the trail, and remarkably remains one the most unchanged. I call it the rhododendron arch. One fond memory I have of this spot on the trail was one winter when I walked the trail in the snow. It was so quiet on that particular day as I was all alone. The only sound that could be heard was the rush of Fall Creek as it tumbled down the Cascades while snow flakes gently descended to the ground. Those are the moments I think about every time I think about the Skyline Trail and what used to be.
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Entering the Rhododendron Arch. |
From the Arch it was only a few steps down a remaining stairway to the arch bridge across Fall Creek. It was here that I noticed many changes. The old bridge was showing some wear, the rails rapidly deteriorating. Back in 2002, we surfaced the bridge with rolled roofing to keep the bridge surface from being so slick. The surface was remarkably still in good shape. A long glance up the creek towards the Upper Cascades revealed a couple of trees down, partially obstructing the view of the cascades. The rhododendron have overgrown what was a well-worn pathway along the slick rocks beside the creek that led to the big rocks that the cascades tumbled down. I can't remember the number of people that I saw slip, slide, and tumble down those rocks; or the number of times I had to walk up those slick rocks to ask someone to come back down so I could keep an eye on them. A large rock sat in the middle of the creek and I remember that rock sitting a little more towards the left bank than it currently is. As I recall, that rock shifted back in the '96 Flood as the flood waters rushed down the hanging valley, carrying other large rocks and trees along with it.
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The Upper Cascades |
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The rock at the bottom of the photo used to sit farther upstream. |
I crossed the bridge and saw where the old rain shelter used to be. Before I left, the shelter was in terrible shape, ruined by moisture and time. Remsen and Donnie endeavored to remove it in 2004 leaving a benched platform. No roof, but a place to take a load off for a little while on a hot day.
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Multi-function steps for either walking up to the access road or sitting. |
Once again, the amount of regeneration that has occurred along the stairs at the falls was unbelievable. At one time there was a virtually unobstructed view of the Cascades. Now it's very difficult to find a spot along the stairway where a clear view is possible. The next photos are a series of shots I took as I walked down the staircase to the top of Hickory Nut Falls.
The walk down the stairs to take these shots was a bit of a pain. I've had less difficulty, relatively speaking, walking through rhododendron thickets. The stairway was so overgrown you could no longer see the large grotto on the left hand side of the stairs and the path was totally obstructed.
The bottom of the stairs was basically the end of the line. The old boardwalk that spanned the creek is totally gone, taken out by past flooding, as was the fence that prevented visitors from getting too close to the edge. There were some handrails installed by a Bridge Crew but that was the only thing that actually represented any type of barrier or protection. I've seen the top of the falls without a fence or boardwalk a few times over the 11 years I worked at the Park, but only now the top of Hickory Nut Falls looks as it would have back in the early days when the trails to the falls were first constructed. For once, the water was flowing totally unobstructed in an almost dignified manner, as if it knew that the human impact had been abated, at least for a little while. I took a few minutes to take in the rare unobstructed view before starting on the return trip up the stairs.
So, one of the questions I am anticipating is "Why didn't you walk the Cliff Trail?" Unfortunately, that was not part of the agreement, but also there is a great deal of risk involved in making that trip because there are no longer any fences at two critical sections: Nature's Showerbath and Groundhog Slide. Both of those places are extremely dangerous when there are no fences in place. When I was in my twenties I would not have given a second thought to attempting it. In my twenties, I walked the Cliff Trail with no fences, no protection, and ice on the trail, and that was one of the stupidest things I have ever done. Now that I am older and have two kids that need their dad to be around for them, my days of taking unnecessary risks are over. If the State Park develops a way of traversing those sections, then I will be more than happy to walk that trail again.
I returned from my hike with a somewhat bittersweet feeling. I was happy that I had gotten another opportunity to visit a place that I love so much, but sad that so much has changed. Since the State purchased the Park, I felt strongly that every effort needed to be taken to reopen the trail as it was. Now, I'm not so sure. Is the challenge of trying to put the trail back in its original footprint worth the amount of effort and expense that will be necessary, and what will the ecological costs be? As I contemplate the successional dynamics that are taking place as nature reclaims the trail, I am trying to wrap my head around the possibility that the plant diversity of the Skyline Trail may indeed depend on a level of disturbance that can only be provided by continued disturbance through human impact. It's one of those weird things where, as scientists, we often see human impact in negative ways, forgetting that disturbance comes in many forms, whether natural or man-made.
As the State Park moves forward with planning the future development and re-opening of the Skyline Trail, in whatever form that is, it would be in the best interest of the natural communities along that trail for monitoring to take place so that there can be a greater understanding of the successional dynamics occurring and how a lack of disturbance may or may not impact diversity.
I am grateful to James Ledgerwood and Tyson Phillips for allowing me to go out on the Skyline Trail so that I could see it and explain why opening that trail is not a simple matter. The top priority must be the safety of the visitors with protection of the natural resources coming in second. If that means the Skyline Trail takes a different path than the original, I am now in a place where I can live with it.
I hope that as people read this it provides food for thought. I know this is one of the longer posts I have written, but it was necessary to be able to show actual conditions so that people know that there is a reason why the trails must remain closed until a better alternative presents itself. This topic is open for discussion and I think it's certainly a conversation worth having. The more input from the public there is, the greater the chance that the Skyline Trail can be opened again and once again take people to the top of Hickory Nut Falls, which remains one of the top attractions in Hickory Nut Gorge.
To see the entire picture collection of this trip, click on the link to my Flickr Album.
Until next time.