It was completely dark as I worked my way along a footpath I couldn’t see. Fortunately, I had packed a headlamp for just such scenarios. Unfortunately, I had left the bag where I had packed it in Florida. My cell phone, with it’s flashlight function, was going to have to pull some extra duty today. But I didn’t want to use it too much – I had a LOT to do today. I was going to be needing my cell phone for navigational purposes, both while hiking and driving, and I was going to fighting for charge throughout the day.
This was day 5 of my 5 day trip – no more after this. And except for about two hours of my first day, each day had brought a constant barrage of completely unblemished sunlight. Meaning I was a Floridian in the land of waterfalls and, except for just after dawn and just before dusk, I hadn’t gotten weather suitable for photographing waterfalls. As I had bided my time through the sunny days on repeat, I had looked enviously towards the last day of my trip, where it appeared like I’d get some cloudy weather.
Appeared.
As the looked for day got closer, I was dismayed to see that image of a cloud on the project weather disappear, to be replaced be yet the same old image of a full sun I had seen the previous four days. This stuff again…..this was disappointing, because I had been waiting all trip for a cloudy day to explore South Mountains State Park, a location south and east of the normal Blue Ridge Mountains in a separate range that, as you might infer, were called the State Park Mountains. This park featured lots of canopied creek/river walk that had absolutely called up to me when I was first learning the highlights of western North Carolina back in 2017. I had liked it so much that I put it on our trip itinerary in 2017, to be done in the morning before visiting Table Rock and the Chimneys in the afternoon. With much sadness, I took had to take it off the itinerary mid-trip when I realized we just weren’t as comfortable driving the mountain roads as we would need to be to complete what I had planned.
That was only the beginning of my missed connections.
Like Hawksbill Mountain, this was another location I was going to visit in 2019 when Hurricane Dorian had other plans. To make-up for that I had done a short fall foray a few months later, and had explored making South Mountains my primary destination. But with the time I had to take that trip, South Mountains was ever so slightly too far to drive. To say I felt a bit overdue was an understatement, and I was going to make it first priority as soon as the right weather came. But it never did, and needing a real show-stopper of a main event for my last day, I had already earmarked Shortoff Mountain (another hike I had planned to do in 2019) as my main event – with hopes of finishing off the day at Catawba Falls, which I could photograph as the sun was going down. Shortoff had limited parking, and I was going to need to be there early to do as I had envisioned. Trying to do a hike at South Mountains starting at dawn just wasn’t going to cut it. There wouldn’t be enough time.
But then I had a crazy idea. What if I started well before dawn? Could I hike the 1.5 miles to High Shoals Falls, which was the main trail there I wanted to do, and get some quick tripod shots of it and the Jacob Fork River, before the sun came up, and before I needed to get on to Shortoff Mountain? On the surface, there wasn’t anything except for common sense and the fact that I had two injured hips and would be hiking over rocky surfaces in the dark to prevent me. The state parks in North Carolina opened up early, and that’s if there was even going to be some type of gate that would keep me out of the park till opening time, which I wasn’t sure there was. I was hungry to see South Mountains. And I was hungry to get more long exposures than the paltry number I’d been able to attempt so far. I was up for it. It wouldn’t be the half-day exploration of the park I had always hoped for, as I was adamant I wouldn’t let this interfere with my Shortoff Mountain hike, but it would be something.
So there I was, trudging towards the High Shoals Falls Trail, tripod on my back, feet heavy on an otherwise quiet trail, in near perfect darkness. There had been no impediment as I completed my last of many miles on a winding country road and parked at the trailhead. So I would get to start my hike right upon arrival. The first part of my journey was a 1/2 mile outward trek which appeared very straight on the map, and turned out to pretty much be as straight in person. It was also a wide path made to accomodate horses and hikers, actually even larger than your average forest road. So having to maintain the path wouldn’t be an issue. I still had to worry a lot about my footing though, for while the path was wide, straight, and about as well trod as possible I couldn’t be sure there wouldn’t be a stray rock or two that could cause a trip and fall for unsuspecting feet. The camera, which couldn’t be used in the dark anyway, was going to stay in my pack so I didn’t risk falling forward onto it.
To my left, I could hear the flow of the river over rocks, though I couldn’t see it yet. The trail I was on ran parallel to the river, though there actually was a more rustic path running around 10-20 yards to my left in the Hemlock Nature Trail. I would take this path on the way back to see the river better, if there was time. For now, to save time I was going to avoid even taking a quick peek at the river, even after light started to peek through. I was here to photograph the boardwalk leading up to the falls and the falls themselves, I was going to get those first and then fill in what I had time for before the sun got too harsh, and I had to leave anyway for Shortoff, on the way back. All the other parts of the river I would see would be downriver and deeper between the opposing ridges than the falls anyway – the day’s sunlight would hit them much later than the falls anyway.
The darkness made it seem a lot longer than it normally would have when I finally reached the first milestone on the trail when I crossed a wide bridge over a creek which joined the Jacob Fork River immediately downstream of the bridge. Here I’d have a couple trail junctions in quick succession, and I was prepared to have to concentrate a lot in the darkness. Fortunately the trail was well marked with signs that were large enough to be hard to miss even without much light. It also didn’t hurt that the trail stayed close to the river the entire time too. After I crossed the bridge, the wide path disappeared. For here, I was left with a much more conventional double wide trail. This trail, while well maintained and manicured, followed the contours of the land, rather than just being a mostly level road, so there were frequently rocks and steps I had to navigate. Pre-dawn light was starting to fill the woods, at least illuminating the oncoming trail obstacles somewhat, so I wouldn’t have to depend on my phone for anything but notifications on what attractive young woman with a total of 2 followers just happened to see my instagram and wanted to chat for some reason.
The trail was traveling upriver, so naturally there was a gradual climb to the trail even through its undulations. Sometimes a thick patch of rhododendron blocked the view of the river entirely, but in others the trail ran right alongside the rocks of the riverbed. I could only hope they would provide me with a good setup for a nice frame – a definite bonus in a time crunch. I trudged onward, not knowing quite how far it would be till the boardwalk I was looking for began. The boardwalk in question is one I’ve seen photographed and featured in trail guides and in pictures by other photographers. Not only did it seem to make a great photographic subject, it looked like a truly photogenic spot.
I was a little bit surprised when I encountered the sought after boardwalk on an uphill section of trail. I hadn’t expected to come across a river-crossing boardwalk during an uphill. I immediately recognized the boardwalk segment, though the spot ended up looking a bit different than I expected. I hadn’t really noticed it until afterwards, but the trail guide I liked the most advocated hiking the trail in high water. It was easy to see why, for while at times the bridge seems to cross just inches above white water which shimmers dramatically under the close canopy, what I was seeing was a rather placid and almost small stream. This was especially noticeable in the cascade that sat to the right of the boardwalk and just upstream, for in high water the white water absolutely envelops a lot of the rock face, but I was instead presented with a tightly wound flow that was dominated by the surrounding rocks. Though it was still a nice spot, the difference between the way this looks in low and high water completely changes the atmosphere.
This was the first time of the day where I got out the camera and tripod to do some work. It was dark enough that I didn’t even need a filter to get a long exposure, though I had to take multiple shots solely to make sure one was in focus, since cameras struggle when there is so little light. As I waited between shutter releases I got to absorb the character of the foliage for the first time. It was a mix of green and yellow, definitely a bit pre-peak. I hadn’t known where South Mountains would be at, given that Black Balsam area was barren while parts of the Linville Gorge area ranged from peak to well past peak. Naturally I had been hoping for peak, but given that I had encountered a lot of leafless trees this trip, it was great to have any color, given it was a lot more than I’d ever see at any point in Central Florida.
The spot where the bridge crossed the river under the cascade faced a set of stairs. Moving up the stairs led to another part of the boardwalk which faced another small cascade. This one, also lying to the right of the boardwalk, was more full looking than the prior one. I took another few shots here before moving forward and getting a reverse view of that little section.
Where all this boardwalk and trail was leading was towards a waterfall called High Shoals Falls. Up to this point, the trail had only featured a gradual rate of ascent. It was about to get much more difficult as the trail began a dizzying series of stairs. The more I hike, the more unwelcome these boardwalk staircases become, as their constant sharp rate of ascent not only tires you out in the short term, but the burst of energy expended to get you up them seems to never fully recharge through the course of the day. I was looking for relief at the top, both from completing my ascent, but also the relief that comes from knowing I had accomplished a goal in beating the sun here, and would be at liberty to photograph as I saw fit on the return trip.
There were nice things to see along this section, with the river, basically just a creek here, flowing over, under, and between massive boulders, but the stairs as well as the size of the boulders meant there wasn’t really anything to frame. At the top I reached a wide platform which straddled a rock, behind which was the waterfall. The rock actually obscured the bottom of the fall from most of the platform, which I found a bit frustrating. Even though this didn’t appear to be a time of high flow at all, quite a bit of spray from the fall reached the platform. Because of this, I didn’t have a choice but to setup far to the rear of the platform for a shot, and make the platform part of a shot. As for the fall itself, it was decently tall but almost perfectly straight and uniform as it plunged over the a vertical rock face. A front facing view of it might have been interesting, but the platform basically restricted your view to a side angle which was at least pleasing.
I did feel more connection to the river that I had followed on the way up than the fall itself. The trail continued up a steep uphill path that veered left before you got to the fall. I’m sure there were more water views and maybe even more cascades (an upper falls?) up the path, but the sun was already beginning to hit the top of the main fall here, and I could see that whatever lied at the top of that climb wasn’t going to be shielded by the surrounding ridges. Even beginning the hike well before dawn had only given more a very narrow window as high as the falls. I hate leaving things undone, but knowing I probably couldn’t photograph up there, that it would require a lot of energy expenditure, and that I had visited this park under a time crunch, the decision was easy to turn back here.
Usually, my favorite things to photograph around waterfalls aren’t the falls themselves, but rather the rapids and smaller tumbles of the creeks and rivers. I was definitely very excited to see what I had only caught a glimpse of before the boardwalk on the trail, and I was hoping the height of the surrounding ridges would keep the sunlight at bay long enough for me to capture whatever scenes I encountered.
While on the way down I encountered another nice reverse view of the boardwalk section, this one peering down the stairs towards the bridge. I quickly setup the tripod to get this interesting angle, highlighted by capturing a lot of the river as it curved under the boardwalk to then flow beside it.
I headed down the small incline which had proceeded the boardwalk, reaching an area where the trail run right alongside the rocks on the bank of the river. I hopped up on a rock to survey the scene, and found that looking upriver provided a great scene. It’s rare that the first time I photograph a river or creek in earnest ends up one of my better shots, but the very first shot I took while setup here ended up being the shot I’ve shared the most from this visit. While the boardwalk I was hoping to capture seemed to suffer a bit from lower water levels, and fall was hard to be that creative with due to the limitations imposed by the platform itself and the mist, here I was encountering a scene solely because it looked good in its existing state. This is a big reason why I enjoy the freedom of just photographing a creek or river rather than capturing a set space. It’s a lot more fun when you’re just looking for a frame that appears to you as nice under current conditions.
I next found a spot I could photograph from right on the trail. This was a side view of the river, with two trees serving as bookends. I setup my tripod on the trail and let the long exposure do its work. As it turns out, while my tripod was setup I encountered the first people I had seen thus far that morning, and I was in the way, so I wrapped up my shot rather quickly so I could clear the way.
This was a nice area, though, so I checked out the surrounding rocks to see if I could find a good frame. What really highlighted it was the amount of color in the canopy above the creek as it worked slowly downhill above this spot. There was a good amount of whitewater in the small tumbles as well. But whereas I hadn’t had any issue finding a frame right away just prior to this, here I had a nice scene but no obvious pleasing and balanced composition. I ended up what I often do in this situations, and went ahead and captured the scene as best I could so at least I could see the scene for myself later on.
Back on the trail, I descended further. I found another spot where I could peer down at the river and a nice small set of rapids. Even from far above, the collection of fallen leaves on the rocks stood out as a nice highlight, and I took a moment to frame this one up before continuing.
From here I reached the point where the river’s rate of descent slowed some. There were still rapids, even small cascades, but not coming at quite the same frequency. While traveling here I captured a couple snaps of the trail for the first time, though I pretty much kept the camera on the tripod to doing so. Normally I try to capture every part of the experience, both for others and myself, but I just couldn’t afford much time this day to switch the camera back and forth between long exposure and trail mode.
This part of the trail doesn’t follow the river quite as closely. I had to take short side trails and walk up and down the river to get good views. Being shielded from the bulk of the trail by a huge curtain of rhododendron was actually a bit refreshing, as it made me feel like it was just me and the river here. The river seemed to undulate back and forth here. As one would do with a woman, I tried to highlight its pleasing curves with my lens.
I was real excited about getting to the bridge, which I had crossed in such darkness I could only get a hint of what was happening with the confluence of the river and the creek. Once I got here I could see this was a pretty exciting spot. Both creek and river joined together while each was navigating a series of rapids, with the rapids on the river side essentially being a small cascade. There was an easy place to jump down from bridge/trail level to the rover, so I wasted no time heading down. The nature of the confluence was such that, for the best angle, I’d really need to get right in front of it, so for the first time this day my feet went into the water.
While it was easy to see that this spot should be photographed, there was so much happening it was hard to figure out exactly what I should be getting in frame. I ended up spending more time here than anywhere else trying variations on frames capturing the creek and the river, as well as some just focusing on the Jacob Fork River cascade as it came down. In all the shots, nice touches of gold above the river really highlighted the magnificent white water, which unlike spots farther up river seemed to be at about the perfect level to really look great.
My next connection was with the short Hemlock Nature Trail which spurred off the wide trail I had taken in the dark to the bridge. This lead to a nice path sculpted out of the rhododendron which ran along the river bank. It was a pastoral feeling place to walk, though it wasn’t quite the constant view of the river I had envisioned it might be.
Views of the river were limited to those from a platform high above the river. On the one hand, it was a little disappointing to not have any way to get intimate access to the river like I prefer, where I can hone in on sets of rapids. On the other, the scene obtainable from the platform was just an absolutely perfect view to frame, and I knew from the moment I saw it that it was a ready-made frame, as long as there wasn’t a gust of wind to jostle the foliage helping set the frame.
Though I couldn’t really tell from the platform, once the river passed this rapid its large-scale tumbling was over. Though it still maintained a very rocky course, there wasn’t a large drop in elevation around any rocks, therefore the white water good for photography was missing. The next good view I got of the river was from well down of that platform, where there was a bridge that another trail used to cross the river. Peering upstream from the bridge, I saw that I hadn’t missed any singular rapid or cascade that would have merited a closer focus. As it was, though, the rocky course of the river was still quite pretty, and I did setup to get what I knew would be my last river shot here at South Mountains.
Even if I had not been reaching the last spot I could photograph on the river, the sun was just starting to peek over the ridgeline to shine down on the river below. This actually led to an interesting possibility with the sun rays coming through the trees. So I tried to setup a shot the captured the trail bridge while also using the trees to create a sun flare. I was somewhat limited in what I could frame and still get that sunflare, but I spent a moment crafting one last shot here at South Mountains.
With that, I began packing up my gear and preparing to make a hasty journey to the trailhead for Shortoff Mountain, which the weather was gearing up to be perfect for. While I had barely dipped my toes into what South Mountains has to offer, this brief morning excursion was never intended to be an examination of everything the park has to offer, for that would have been sheer impossible. For what I was looking for, this trip was exactly what I needed. I practically doubled the amount of long exposures I’d been able to take this trip. I’m also one who makes secondary getting great pictures to the in-person experience, but I try hard to align my experiences so I can also get good photographs, and when I journey from flat Florida for a five day excursion to the mountains, I feel like I wasted a rare opportunity if I come back empty handed in the great picture department. My journey to South Mountains wasn’t just about the pictures; it was a beautiful experience getting to photograph this stretch of the Jacob Fork River. I hope that situations align to where I can have a more in-depth visit to South Mountains in the future, but as my experience has shown, even when you’re making it you’re highest priority, sometimes things just don’t add up for you to get to places, and you have to roll with and make the best of what life presents you.
The next step of my day would be to find a parking spot at the notorious Wolf Pit below Shortoff Mountain. Would I be able to find parking? And would I, with two bad hips, be able to complete that challenging ascent up to the rim of Linville Gorge? That will be a tale for my next chapter.
J. Parker Nature Stories 