The plan for this week was the Fiery Gizzard Trail in Tennessee, a trail I’ve been dying to do.
According to a friend, the trek is challenging, albeit beautiful, clocking in at 12 miles point to point. Drawing a map showing how to make a loop using an offshoot trail, he warned that it was easy to lose the trail. “Don’t worry about it,” he remarks. “Tennessee trails are blazed white, and offshoots are blue. If you lose the trail, look behind you and walk back to the last white blaze, turn around and start over. No worries.” A mental picture of me walking back and forth like one of those ducks in a carnival shooting game comes to mind.
Alas, amidst a flurry of late-night texts and Facebook messages, these plans fell through leaving me on my own on a beautiful Sunday.
Where to go? Not wanting to go too far off, I decide on Monte Sano Nature Preserve at the Huntsville Land Trust. Yeah, the same place that I failed to find in week ten, but I have better skills now, And this time I’ve got the address to put in my GPS.
I drive right to the parking lot. Things are looking up already. The trailhead is precisely where it’s supposed to be and well marked. I head out on the Bluff Line Trail which starts at the end of the parking lot, turns left and heads off towards the trees. Looking down, I see a lot of broken glass ground into the path and glittering amidst the gravel and dirt — glimpses into the land’s former life as a landfill.
Bluff Line quickly becomes rocky. Massive boulders line the trail, and I begin climbing up towards the bluff. The ascent doesn’t seem too tricky after Hike 15 along the iconic Mist Trail at Yosemite National Park. My perception has been forever changed (in the best possible way) by that trail.
In a couple of miles, I arrive at the intersection of the Water Line Trail; named for, in a stunning twist, the actual waterline that can still be seen poking out here and there along the trail, a leftover from the 50s.
The line peaks out from time to time, which is good, now that I’m going down, and by down, I mean seemingly straight down! Gingerly, I try to find footholds while slipping and sliding along. Again, I think it may be a good time to invest in some hiking poles, but it’s too late for today. Grabbing trees, the water line when it pokes out, and at one point sitting on my ass doing an unsightly slide/bear crawl maneuver, I make the long, slow descent to a spot where the trail levels out and crosses a creek.
Spying a pretty bench-like rock in the middle of the creek bed, I decide that this is the perfect time to have some water and a snack. I hear something coming down the hill. I know this sound. It is either a gazelle, not often found in Alabama, or it’s CrossFit guy. My money’s on CrossFit guy.
You know him: shorts, no shirt.
No chest hair either, seemingly no body hair at all. Despite temperatures at least 10 degrees higher than the highest temp ever recorded in hell and off-the-charts humidity levels, a light sweat will be glistening across his hairless chest. CrossFit guy will just glisten. He will also bound down the incredibly steep, root-filled, rocky decline that you just struggled with like a roid-raged jackrabbit. You will be drenched with sweat, splattered with mud, and he will be glistening. How is this possible?
I smile and wave while munching on my trail mix and picking leaves out of my hair. Slowing his gallop to a trot, he looks over and asks, “Everything okay, ma’am?” My first instinct is to punch him in the throat. Instead, I assure him that everything’s fine and off he goes like a bat out of hell.
Waterline Trail flattens out, and I follow it to the Three Caves Trail.
There’s a sign warning parents to control their children, very high, dangerous cliffs are just ahead. There is also a family just ahead, apparently not heeding the warning. I immediately head the other direction.
Arriving at the cliffs reveals the Three Caves Quarry. It is spectacular and features three large cave-like openings on the quarry floor. Opened in 1945 by a family from Tennessee, the initial quarrying technique was “drill and shoot.” which then changed to the “room and pillar” technique around 1945.
There were two reasons to change methods. The first was plain old economics. The second and far more interesting reason is the mishaps that could, and did, occur using the “drill and shoot” method.
The name alone conjures up all kinds of mental mishaps. The technique often sent rocks, some rather large, airborne and into neighboring homes. Most famously, into the trunk of the sporty, red, 1949 Ford owned by Berlene and Philip Scott. Now, that would be a sight to see. Legend has it that Berlene was so pissed off she had to be restrained by quarry workers
Completing the loop at Three Caves, I head back on the Alms House Trail.
Another excellent trail, named after the home of quarry workers. Before housing the workers, Alms House was a poor house. People were sentenced to live there and referred to as inmates until 1935 when the commissioners requested that the American Red Cross find homes for the remaining 16 residents.
Near the end, you’ll see a sign for Fagan Springs. If you’re up for it, it’s only about half a mile down and leads to a pretty spring.
There are over 50 miles of trail to explore here according to the signs. Lot’s of fascinating history in these woods. Plenty of wildflowers and wildlife too. Something for everyone here.
Making my way back to the car, I glance at my FitBit.
Only 77 flight of stairs! Funny how your perspective changes. In the beginning, 38 flights seemed impossible. Now it’s a warmup.
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