My feet made a grinding sound as they trudged along the dusty and rocky pathway, no doubt trapping some of the small rocks that littered the trail with each step I took. The landscape ahead was dark and scrubby, and if not for the immensely blue sky it may have appeared quite foreboding. As it was, it was mind numbing, for it was the same landscape I’d been hiking in the hour since I’d left the Wolf Pit parking area, a lot that couldn’t have been difficult to park in had it been an actual pit of wolves. For better or worse, I was venturing towards a wide elevated plateau that would no doubt have some impeccable views. But the worse of that was reaching that plateau required navigating a constant uphill grade for nearly two miles, all in the same unending wasteland I’d been journeying through.
This was Shortoff Mountain.
Hiking up a mountain is a phrase that sounds fairly ominous for those who haven’t done it a couple times. For those who have, they know the journeys are not the dragon filled, death defying escape that they might have imagined. For one, dragons are expensive, so due to budget cutbacks they only appear on weekends now on most trails. But getting to the top is often a circuitous route involving only gradual climbs, a few highlights along the trail, and at least in Appalachia woods and other features which obscure the totality of the climb and keep you in anticipation of what you’ll see next.
Shortoff Mountain is not one of those. No, it does not have dragons, since they are banned in federally protected wilderness areas, but with an uphill hike pretty much entirely in the open, it leaves nothing to the imagination as far as how far you have to go and how much you have left to climb. It is far from the steepest, longest, or highest climb, but what it lacks in that category it makes up for with a special type of mental torture due to the drudgery of the uphill climb. It’s the type of trail where you should pick your hiking companions wisely, for you’ll be spending lots of time in conversation to pass the minutes. I was hiking this trail by myself, and I’m not very good company.
I had started the day by hiking in South Mountains State Park, starting well before dawn, which you can read about in my previous post. Given that I was going to have a 5th day in a row of painfully sunny weather, I knew Shortoff Mountain would be a perfect centerpiece to my final day in North Carolina prior to hip surgery in 10 days. For one, Shortoff is entirely about views, making it ideal for sunny weather. But also, since reading about in in 2017, I had been wanting to hike it. It’s the last for me of what I consider to be a triple crown of sorts for the moderate hikes of Linville Gorge’s east rim, a list which also includes Table Rock/The Chimneys, which I had done in 2017, and Hawksbill Mountain, which I had done two days ago. I would have hiked here in 2019 had Hurricane Dorian not caused my early return to Florida.
As I rushed up a consistently climbing dirt road a cloud of dust trailed my car, reflecting the speed at which I was navigating this rustic road. I was entirely aware of the fustercluck that Wolf Pit Trailhead can frequently be, and as one who tries not to park illegally because, for one, I don’t want to get my car towed, and two, I’m not an asshole, I wanted to get to Wolf Pit not too late in the morning. I usually quell my anxiety by just getting to sketchy parking situations first thing in the morning, but the cost of my brief trip to South Mountains is that I would be getting there around mid-morning.
Once I reached the Wolf Pit, I could easily see why the parking area causes so many issues. It’s hardly a suitable parking area for a festering port-a-potty, much less one of the signature hikes within driving range of Asheville. Calling it a parking area is hardly fitting, for it was more accurately a place where the road ended and there were a couple places to wedge a car between trees. If you weren’t one of the first dozen or so there, it no doubt took some creativity and bravado to find a place to park without blocking someone in. Luckily, this seemed to be a rather quiet Tuesday, and I found one of the few set parking spaces unoccupied.
At the end of the parking area was a sign clearly marking the bounds of the Linville Gorge Wilderness and the Shortoff Trail. I definitely felt a twinge of excitement once I was really on the move, for the plateau of Shortoff guarding the lower reach of the gorge had always filled me with wonderment as I viewed it from other hikes like Table Rock and Hawksbill. I was finally going to satisfy my curiosity, which is probably the driving force for my life.
Right away, I could tell this was a different type of hike than most I have done in the Blue Ridge. Many of the hikes in this area feature an immense lushness to the woods, unless they are at higher elevation, in which case they adopt a spruce-fir forest that has its own cold but inviting feel to it. Shortoff was as far from lush as Disney World is from being affordable. A variety of trees were present, but none of them provided any type of canopy, they merely lined the trail. While the fall season had provided them with a variety of shades from green to amber, nothing except the immense blue sky felt all that colorful owing to the prevalent dust and lack of fullness of the foliage.
Just a few moments into the trail, an obvious sign guided hikers to the right as another path went straight. Not very well versed in the other trails of the area, I wondered where the trail going straight actually went, but that was a question to be answered another day. From here, the trail began navigating a wide series of switchbacks in earnest. My hiking tracker said my hike was 1,220 feet in elevation gain, and that comes pretty much entirely in the first mile and a half of the hike. The mountain, while frequently at least partially obscured, loomed large overhead. Occasionally there were brief wide gaps between the trees, allowing you to get a good view of the contours of at least part of the mountain.
The day was actually mildly warm. Having nothing in the way of the sun certainly didn’t help/ Now, it has to be mentioned that I am from Florida. You may have felt heat, but I was born into it. Molded by it. A 70 something degree day is scarcely something to make a disaster movie about. That said, part of the joy of leaving a Florida that was still reveling in summer temperatures was feeling a refreshing coolness. There was nothing refreshing about trudging up Shortoff on this day.
Now, being out in the open white hiking up a mountain has it detractions – I’ve certainly enumerated them well here. But, there is a huge benefit to it as well. Once you get higher, you start to get frequent, almost constant views. I didn’t get that far up Shortoff before I started getting to see things. At the start, the view didn’t consist of that much though, for there just wasn’t much tp see yet. I was surprised at the flatness of the terrain south of the opening of the Gorge. It seemed to be a very large valley until you hit another slate of mountains far in the distance, and those mountains were almost shrouded in the trademark haze of the Blue Ridge. I wasn’t discouraged by this view at all, for I knew once I could see into the gorge I’d have all the wonder I’d ever need.
At one point, the trail made its farthest foray out to the East, where you could see around the hulk of Shortoff to get an unobstructed view to the Piedmont. There was a small spur on the trail, jutting out just a few feet, that beckoned you to stop and take a view here. Once again, it was a bit surprising to find just how flat by comparison the land in this view was. I had gotten views into this area on my previous gorge hikes, but never had it appeared so flat as near Shortoff.
Time passed very slowly as my legs, tired from their 5th straight day of hiking with two bad hips, grappled forward for their next rocky purchase. I reached another clearly marked trail junction where a sign clearly guided you to the right. Once again, I didn’t know where the other path would have gone. I perked up a little bit when the trail seem to turn into rocky stairs and claim at a bit higher pace. Rocky perches began to permeate the side of the mountain, including one not far ahead that seemed to hang off the side of the mountain, likely giving some good views.
Naturally, I was impatient to get to the climb over and get to the top, where I’d have the satisfaction of knowing the physical toll was over while finally getting to answer what the view from the top was like, but I had to take a pause here to enjoy the views for a second. I let my pack off my shoulders for a brief break, taking a seat on the rock as I took in the view. To my right, I could just start to see the west wall of the Gorge for the first time. Forward was a similar view to what I had been seeing since the parking area, but a bit more dramatic and full with the rocky precipice.
I knew the top of the mountain wouldn’t be far ahead, and my brief stop at the rock re-energized my. I plunged forward through the craggy landscape. In another ten minutes, I finally reached the plateau of Shortoff’s peak. An open rock face lied just to the left of the trail, beckoning you with its views. This legitimately was the rock at the opening of the Gorge, for it curved around a bit, one side facing the open end. Straight ahead, finally, I could see the distinct wall that made up the West Rim of the Gorge. I had arrived.
It had been a tiring climb, as much mentally as physically, but I finally had reached a spot where I could truly relax for a second. There were areas of flat rock that were quite easy to traverses, but other parts of the area featured a jumble of flat rocks rising out of the terrain. I got a great view in two directions, but to my right there was a craggy knob rising up a bit from the rest of Shortoff, and jutting forward so as to impede my view farther up the Gorge. No matter this was just the start, there was going to be more to explore.
From far away Shortoff looks very flat, but of course in practice it has terrain which undulates a bit. The trail ran an uneven course going forward, and at one point that was actually a drop of several feet along the trail. I made my way down, but I worried a bit about making it up coming the way back, for Shortoff was an out and back hike. Luckily I had no issues with it on the return trip. In this area, the foliage was especially sparse, so while I wasn’t walking right along a sheer drop, I still got fairly good views. The woods being in the foreground of the drop and the West Rim actually added some dynamic.
More views lied ahead. To the left, a nice view of the West Rim, another ridge behind, and then way in the back, Mt. Mitchell and the Black Mountains. Ahead I was finally starting to get a view over that craggy outcropping up the Gorge to see Table Rock and Hawksbill Mountain, though I had to strain to really see them. I would get much better views farther along.
Ahead I walked around the rim, where there was an informal trail, and made my way to a campsite where some backpackers were getting set up. This wasn’t a wide open rock face but instead was a largely canopied area with a couple small openings where one could reach small open rock faces between the brush. I didn’t want intrude on the campers, what with the pandemic going on, so I talked to them to make sure it was ok for me to go around them and get a peek. It was a pretty impressive view, for I finally got an unobstructed look at Table Rock and the Chimneys. While I was very familiar with the shape of Table Rock as it looms precariously on the rim of the Gorge, I simply had no concept of the crazy rock structure that sat below the Chimneys. It was simply indescribable to see that from far away. There are ways to see at least part of that up close, but doing so had been beyond my skill level in 2017. Maybe someday…
I had kind of imagined that Shortoff would be one continuous series of views as you navigated the curve of the plateau. I would come to find out it was actually quite different. This little view I got at the campsite was actually the last I’d get for a bit, for I’d enter the woods and the trail would actually curve away from the rim for a bit. This was the thickest section of woods I encountered along the trail, but even if twas still reasonably sparse, made even more pronounced by the vegetation thinning in the season. There was a little bit of color to be found, but it wasn’t enough to really add much to the hike. I wasn’t doing this hike for fall color anyway.
I knew what was coming up next along the trail, which was a small pond. I don’t remember the exact distinction, but I know that seeing something like that at the top of the moment is a very rare event. I’m sure much of the general public walking the trail gives little thought to the pond as they pass by on their way to the primary overlook at Shortoff, but I gave it a moment’s time to appreciate it before moving forward. This part of the trail was very open.
I knew that the main overlook was going to be to my left at some point and I didn’t want to miss it. What I didn’t know was how I would know when I was seeing a path to the main overlook. Past the pond a bit I caught a hint of a trail cutting through the brush. It was well trod enough for me to think it may be a path the the overlook I was looking for. It seemed well cut for a while, but as I got about 100 yards in the path began to dissipate. I could tell, though, that I wasn’t that far from some type of view. I clawed my way through the rapidly encroaching brush, and lo and behold I did start to get some views when I was close to the gorge. I could tell, however, that there were better views just some 20 yards away, where there were a number of people sprawled out on what was clearly a significant, probably the main overlook. So through more I trudged, branches clawing at my shoulders and bag, before I triumphantly emerged onto the rock face that everyone else was enjoying.
There wasn’t anything monumentally different about this view from what I had seen at the campsite. What was different was that, instead of just being a small peep through the trees, instead this was an ideal spot to sprawl out and relax. I certainly did here. I had done a lot of journeying today, from driving an hour and a half pre-dawn just to reach South Mountains before the sun came up, then the hectic drive to Shortoff to secure, then the numbing ascent up 1200 feet of switchbacks. It was nice to bathe my troubles in beef jerky and gatorade for a second. I sat down within talking range of a nice man and woman, and we talked a little bit about the hike while we sat and enjoyed the views. The pair was of an age where it could have been a father and daughter out enjoying nature, but the girl was relatively attractive and they didn’t necessarily interact like a father daughter combo. I didn’t ask, and whatever relationship they had, they were nice people.
I moved farther down to where there were some tall rocks near the edge. Normally I don’t do much like this, but I was feeling adventurous, so I squeezed between the branches of a pine tree and pulled myself onto the rock (not on the sheer drop off side. I don’t do that). It was an interesting feeling taking a look up at the Gorge, imagining what I had accomplished. Here I was at Shortoff, the peak at the opening of the Gorge. Further down was the striking shape of the Chimneys, with the distinct Table Rock behind them that I had hiked in 2017. Behind that was Hawksbill Mountain, and further behind that were Sitting Bear and Hurricane Ridge, all of which I had hit 2 days prior on a very adventurous hike. I had gotten to see firsthand all of the major peaks of the East Rim. It was an interesting feeling.
I didn’t have the experience of seeing Shortoff when it was my first exposure to the Gorge. And I didn’t have the experience of seeing the Gorge for the first time in 3 years like I had two days prior at Hawksbill. If I had experienced things differently, I might have had a difference of opinion. I will say though, that while I had a hard time figuring out which out of Table Rock or Hawksbill I thought was better, to meShortoff wasn’t at the level of those two views. To be sure, the Gorge is magnificent anywhere you see it. But there’s layers to those views that aren’t there with Shortoff. Crazy as it might sound too, but with so much of the Shortoff hike showcasing the flatness outside the Gorge, it almost ruins the mystique of the Gorge to see where it opens up. When you’re at one of the peaks in the middle of the Gorge you can imagine that the Gorge runs forever.
I was glad I was experiencing what Shortoff was right after four years of wondering. At the same time, I’m glad I did my triple crown in the order I did, and I certainly think it’s a great way to do it for anyone looking to experience the Gorge.
From here, it was all backtracking. I took the actual path you’re supposed to take off the main trail – had I continued just a bit farther it would have been impossible to miss. I walked through the woods and stopped by each successive view on the way out, including the campers again, but as there wasn’t even really a cloud in the sky even the lighting hadn’t changed one bit since I had first come through. I mostly stopped to savor the views for a last time – these were going to be the last elevated views I’d be getting for a long time, and between myself and any other views would be a significant surgery and challenging recovery back in Florida.
Going up Shortoff had been a chore. Going down over sandy rocks would be a chore too, but at least going down a relatively open path means you are looking out on views much of the time. Of course, I always try to catch glimpses of these when I’m going up, but it takes turning around to be able to see, so of course you can’t take in everything. There was a good lake view not far from the top that I enjoyed. The lower that I got though, the views disappeared and dissipated in strength. And what I could see was just the same thing I had seen the entire way down. Going down may have been marginally better that going up, but after a certain point I just really wanted to be done, and the switchbacks seemed to continue forever. There was never any doubt how much further you had to go down either, for you could see the parking area the entire way. It was far from my favorite moments on a trail, that’s for sure.
As a child I had learned that even James Cameron’s Titanic eventually ended, and so would the descent down Shortoff. Just neither one of them quite as I wanted to. Shortoff had been my main event – the one thing I knew was ideal for the weather – but it wasn’t the last thing I had up my sleeve. I was going to finish the day, and by extension my trip, with a visit to Catawba Falls – as long as I could make the drive there in enough time to hike to the waterfall, that is. Shortoff had been nice – maybe not the top tier hike I had been hoping for, but still nice. While I would have preferred a less boring approach to Shortoff, sometimes you have to endure some boring things to have a really nice payoff. For instance, as a Floridian I can’t drive anywhere nice without having to suffer through southern Georgia, so I should really be used to it. So it was I said goodbye to Shortoff and Linville Gorge, hoping that I’d have a fruitful visit to Catawba Falls to cap off my long day in the mountains.
J. Parker Nature Stories 