Pinhoti Trail
Section 7
March 2007
“Y’all are crazy!” had been my mother’s response when I told her we were going backpacking on what promised to be the coldest weekend of the season. Her words echoed in my ears as sleet and snow pelted my head while I hurriedly set up my tent and covered my backpack.
Racing to beat the onslaught of slippery icicles running down my back, the tornado-force winds trying to send my tent airborne, and the impending darkness blanketing the mountain ridge, our group’s home for the night, I wondered if she were right.
If this was crazy, then I’d been crazy a long time and often, as backpacking ranks as my favorite sport. The more challenging the terrain, the more threatening the weather — the more alive I feel.
While I will go backpacking anytime, anywhere, my purpose this trip was to write an article on “backpacking the Pinhoti Trail with family.” Since I needed family to authenticate the trip, I enlisted my husband, Tom, a local veterinarian, and three sons, Drew, 20, a senior at Auburn University; Cole, 17; and Graham, 12, both students at The Donoho School.
Drew is the president of Auburn’s Outdoor Adventure Club (OAC). He invited fellow students and members of OAC, Amanda Eubanks, Will Jones and Mustafa Gurbuz, to pack up and join our trip. Also, one of my running buddies, Kasey Peck, a co-op student from Kettering University in Flint, Michigan, who works for Harley Davidson in Anniston, rounded out the crew of nine.
Living in the Talladega National Forest, the Pinhoti Trail is right in our backyard and has long been one of my favorite hikes. The 100-mile footpath stretching from Porter’s Gap south of Talladega to east of Piedmont is almost totally contained in the Talladega National Forest.
The Pinhoti connects to the Benton MacKaye Trail in Georgia, which joins the Appalachian Trail. From my home on Cheaha Mountain, I could literally hike out our back door all the way to Canada, if I found myself with nothing to do for six months.
Our three sons were not raised by wolves, but they have spent a huge portion of their lives outdoors. Backpacking is second nature to us, so we were a good choice to hike Section 7 for a series of articles detailing varying writers’ experiences on the trail. We opted for this section because besides being one of the more scenic and interesting, it is also the most challenging and demanding. Elevation and rocks!
We chose point-to-point routes allowing Drew and crew to exit early on Sunday, so that on Monday they could return to Auburn in time for class and for Kasey to return to work. After dropping cars at the endpoints, Cave Creek trailhead for them and Cheaha Lake for us, we met at Adam’s Gap, south of Cheaha State Park on Skyway Motorway (Alabama 281).
I asked my sons to write about their trip, with observations about the outing and advice for other hikers or novice packers. What better way to relate a family backpacking trip than through the words of the family?
DAY ONE: Saturday, Feb. 17
Adam’s Gap to Caney Head on Talladega Mountain
To me, the scenic overlook before Adam’s Gap offers one of the most compellingly beautiful sweeping views of our area. The day was clear, windy and cold — perfect for hiking. We strapped on our packs and began the steep climb from Adam’s Gap to Talladega Mountain, a ridge run on the south side of Mount Cheaha.
The ridge is full of scree, loose rocks waiting to turn a weak ankle. Good hiking boots are important for a safe journey. Once we climbed to the ridge, the walk leveled off, and we stopped to shed layers and adjust packs.
No backpacking trip would be complete without our yellow Labrador retrievers, Hoover and Wegl. They bounded up and down the trail with pure abandon, happy to be a part of the adventure, looking back at us when they’d get ahead as if wondering what was taking us so long. Each carried his own pack of food and water.
Graham’s journal entry:
Starting out was hard for me at first, but then I adjusted my pack and was ready to go. Hiking is a great time to think. I thought about what all we were going to eat and about getting in my warm, cozy sleeping bag.
When we got to what we thought was our campsite, we stacked lots of wood for a large fire, as high as up to Cole’s stomach. Dad said it wasn’t the right spot, so we sadly left the campsite and its huge pile of wood.
When we found our real spot, we set up tents and got more wood. We lit the fire and relaxed. I found a tree covered with sap, and I scraped off the sap and burned it. It made small fireworks!
When we got to the correct camping area, freezing rain started and small flurries of snowflakes fell as we dropped our packs. The wind was relentless, and we tried to seek refuge in an area shielded by huge boulders.
Glancing over at my hiking companions skittering about hammering stakes in tent loops to secure shelters, their headlights dancing in the dark, I was happy to roll out my sleeping bag on top of my pad in anticipation of the warmth it would provide after we ate dinner.
Soon the sleet and snow stopped and the crackling warmth of the fire gathered us. We watched as Tom, the master backpack chef, created magic on two humming dragonfly stoves. “Who’s hungry?” he asked as we watched his every move, a shake of spices here, a strong circular stir there.
It’s true what they say, food is better outdoors. I’ve always enjoyed backpacking meals, and I’ve never gone hungry. In fact, we joke we eat better on the trail than at home. Dinner was no exception. We started with a bowl of broccoli cheese soup, with just a touch of garlic. That bowl soon was followed with a heaping bowl of hot beef stroganoff.
After dinner, we spent a little time chit-chatting by the fire, getting to know one another. Besides the freedom you experience carrying all your “needs” on your back (food, water, shelter), relaxing by the fire at night after a rewarding day’s hike is a luxury.
Among many other outdoor activities, backpacking is what my family does. It reconnects us in ways no couch-therapy session ever could. It is our therapy. When you spend hours trodding the trails together, you learn a lot about each other. In fact, I have always told my sons they should not marry someone until they have spent a tough backpacking trip together. Backpacking allows you to see how the other person handles discomfort, adversity in challenging circumstances, and extreme situations.
Drew’s journal entry:
I have been on many backpacking trips with my family, but this is the first one where I brought along three other Auburn students. They were fortunate enough to see how crazy my family is and how much fun we can have with just what we pack on our backs. All three of them had prior experience backpacking, but we were definitely a diverse group.
I am a junior majoring in zoology for pre-veterinary medicine. Mustafa is from Turkey working toward a master’s in civil engineering. Will is a senior from LaGrange, Ga., majoring in business, and Amanda is a sophomore from Mobile majoring in interior design. You could say backpacking provided us common ground.
I told my mom before we left it was a little weird how my perspective on backpacking had changed. Previously, I never had to worry much about the morale of the rest of us, as that was my parents’ job. As the president of the club, it was now my responsibility to make sure everyone on the trip would be able to enjoy themselves.
DAY TWO: Sunday, Feb. 18
Talladega Ridge to Cave Creek Trailhead for Drew and crew, and to Blue Mountain Shelter for the rest of us.
Tom, my dog Hoover and I shared a tent. Hoover is usually like an electric blanket snuggled against me, sharing my pad, but during the night he shivered so much that Tom wrapped him in a tarp next to me, conserving his heat.
TIP: Even with a fleece liner inserted into my bag, my feet were a little cold. Tom took his jacket, zipped it, and slid it over the lower end of my bag. The jacket trapped the heat, and in no time at all my tootsies were toasty. Having the right equipment or being creative with the tools at hand are important tips to enjoying a trip. Each trek we take, we learn new tricks.
I rolled out of the tent into the beauty of a pristine Sunday sunrise. While it was still very windy, the temperature was rising with the sun; I noticed my pack had a thick layer of frost on it.
Drew’s journal entry:
My main concern was the cold weather predicted for last night. Sure enough, the temperature dropped into the teens and the wind picked up at our campsite on the ridge. As an added precaution, we brought water bottles into our tents to prevent them from freezing. Even with them out of the wind and in the tents where our body heat was trapped, they still froze.
TIP: Sharing a tent with a friend and your dog is a wonderful way to stay warm. Put the dog between you and snuggle with the dog. My wonderful yellow lab Wegl was our space heater for the night.
Cole’s journal entry:
Cold is when the contacts in the little case inside of your tent freeze. Cold is when your toothbrush actually hurts your teeth it’s so cold. Cold is when you don’t care how goofy you look walking down the trail with your extra pair of socks on your hands like mittens. Cold is when you forgo the safety of your rain jacket to get as close to the fire as possible. Cold is when you wake up in the morning and you’re not sure if you still have toes. Cold is when you try to pee and, well, there are some things you don’t want to know about the cold.
These were some of the thoughts that crossed my mind on Sunday morning as I lay in my tent watching the light of the sun slowly start to dance across the canopy. There was no way I would leave the warmth of my sleeping bag until the sun raised the outside temperature at least a small amount.
Graham’s journal entry:
After a great breakfast of oatmeal and bagels, we hiked to the plane wreck. It had the plane’s body and tail, wings, parts of the engine, and the rudders. The wings were still halfway intact, and a section of the cabin was visible. The pedals were still in working order, too.
At McDill Point, an outcropping of rocks offered an unobstructed view of the valley below and sun-warmed stone slabs to stretch out on for a break. A red-tailed hawk floated lazily on an updraft from the gap below, sounding shrill calls to fellow flyboys.
Beside the trail, a commemorative marble marker denotes the designation of the Cheaha Wilderness area in January 1983. Wilderness areas don’t allow permanent structures, are not always well-marked, and are protected from hunting and development.
Drew’s journal entry:
As Sunday progressed, the other club members and I had to part from my family. We would be going back to class refreshed. Students from very different places, studying very different fields, were able to join with my parents and two brothers on this trip. Backpacking allowed us to bridge the gaps of age, nationality, and educational interest to escape together.
Graham’s journal entry:
We split up with Drew’s crew and headed over to the two-mile-long trail to Blue Mountain Shelter. Dad and I pumped water while Cole and Mom lit the fire. We all settled down and ate a delicious tortilla soup, and then a spicy bean, corn and chip soup. Then we hung out.
I climbed up to the loft of the shelter and set up my bed. We sat and talked for awhile, then Cole and I crawled into the loft to sleep.
Blue Mountain Shelter is a sturdily built, three-sided planked cabin with a loft. A trail log was wedged between one of the supports, a reminder many other hikers had passed this way. The overbuilt fire ring was full of the remnants from previous trekkers. Two benches attached to the front of the shelter were particularly nice for preparing meals and organizing gear.
DAY THREE: Monday, Feb. 19
Blue Mountain Shelter to Cheaha State Park and Blue Hell Trail to Cheaha Lake
Monday dawned much warmer — no frost on the packs. As I enjoyed the sunbeams filtering into the tent, I spied a robin hopping around the campsite, the first I had seen this year. Spring was definitely on its way.
Graham’s journal entry:
The grits were great! I realize when my family and I hike, we all have to go with the slowest pace. That’s me. But I also have to try a little harder to keep up the pace, too. Hiking is hard, but it’s also fun.
Cole’s journal entry:
For me, backpacking is a family event where we take a weekend to spend time together without the busy distractions of high school, college and work.
One very important facilitator of family happiness while backpacking is food. Brothers don’t always get along; hungry brothers never get along. As a teenager, my daily consumption is approximately equal to my bodyweight; quantity as well as quality is very important when packing for a trek. A personal favorite among our family is cheese and crackers. Surprisingly, a block of cheese and Wheat Thins or Ritz crackers are quite efficient in bridging the hungry gaps between meals.
We enjoyed T-shirt weather as we hiked the last miles of our trek. The rest of the route to Cheaha State Park was easy. We stopped briefly at Bald Rock to talk with a family of four from Tennessee who was sightseeing. They seemed a little shocked to see us walk out of the woods, large packs attached to our backs.
The trip ended with a steep hike down Blue Hell Trail to Cheaha Lake, more than a 1,100-foot drop in elevation in a mile. I’m always sad when a trip is finished, sort of a deflated feeling like the day after Christmas, but there is always a next trip.
