The last time I went to Catawba Falls, outside of Old Fort, was in the middle of the drought in 2007. The falls were nice but the water level was pitiful. But since I have to write an article for Mountain Xpress, I revisited the falls yesterday. What a difference.

The picture on the left are of the falls yesterday with plenty of water. Below, on the right, is a picture of the falls two years ago in the middle of the drought.

This water, now in Pisgah National Forest, supplied the electric power for the town of Old Fort.

In the early 1900s, Colonel Daniel W. Adams, a pioneer in the development of hydroelectric power, bought thousands of acres of land in the Old Fort area, including the Falls. In the 1920s, he built the dams you’ll pass on the hike, which created electricity for the town of Old Fort. In 1928 he sold the power plant to a small power company. Eventually Duke Power Company took it over and closed the Catawba facility.

The access was private for decades, though hikers came through anyway. Now it's been reopened.

Right now, the water level is high and we had to shimmy a bit to get across the stream. We're in hunting season, hence the orange.

The upper falls are also impressive - see below - but very challenging to get to. The path to the upper falls is not officially maintained. Most people walk the one mile to the lower falls and return the same way.

What you do not want to do is climb the falls themselves. Stick to the path.

Today we went to work on our A.T. section for the last time this year. We have a section from Rice Gap to Devils Fork Gap on the border of North Carolina and Tennessee.

We need to clean waterbars, clear debris and clip anything that might cause an obstruction for hikers. And of course, pick up trash - always pick up trash.

Lenny carries a shovel to clear waterbars (on the left), a saw and lopers. I carry clippers and several garbage bags.

Since it's hunting season, we had our orange hats and vests.

But there was another complication. A couple of weeks ago, I got an email that the Cherokee National Forest folks were going to burn the two clearings on our section. As you may recall, I went out with Julie Judkins of A.T.C. and Joe McGinnis of the Cherokee National Forest in September to look at the clearings. At that time, Joe said that the two clearings that I was complaining about were going to be burned to keep them open for wildlife.

So I was prepared to see at least two burned areas crossing the trail. What a pleasant surprise to find that they had just cleared the sides of the trail to keep them clear.

It's kind of ironic - for several years, I've been complaining about clearing. But once they threatened to burn, I was grateful that they just cleared it again.

The Knoxville Museum of Art announced the acquisition of Dawn, Autumn Forest, Great Smoky Mountains, Tennessee (1948) by American photographer Ansel Adams. Adams (1902-1984) is best known for his timeless black-and-white images of Yosemite National Park and other natural wonders of the American West.

In 1948, he traveled to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park to take photographs as part of a Guggenheim Fellowship on America’s national parks and monuments. This was his first and only time in Tennessee - no mention if he was ever in North Carolina.

I took the photograph from the Knoxville Art Museum site. It's quite dark but I would not dare retouch an Ansel Adams print.

Just a quick note on the North Carolina Writers Network Conference at Wrightsville Beach.

I presented a workshop on "How to Write a How-to" with Malcolm Campbell from Charlotte. Lots of ideas and interest on this topic. The conference is top heavy with novelists and memoir writers but lately, there's been a groundswell of people interested in writing about their expertise.

Maybe I should put our outlines on the web.

Goat 609, better known as Hannah, spent the summer on Grassy Ridge; that's on the A.T. on Roan Mountain.

I adopted her and named her Hannah after my oldest granddaughter. Goat Hannah and her 44 other colleagues browsed about 10 acres to keep down the vegetation up on Roan Mountain.

This project is supported by Friends of Roan Mountain and the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. For $50, I got to adopt her for the summer, name her and get some updates on the project.

Jamey Donaldson, the project leader, sent me a large picture of Hannah, the goat and a lock of wool. I sent both to Hannah, my granddaughter and she was thrilled. Next summer, I hope to take her up to Roan Mountain and introduce her to her goat. Then together, we'll pick out another goat for her baby sister.

What are you going to give the child in your life? Another plastic toy? Give your child a goat for the holidays.

On Friday, Nov. 13, a Graham County man shot Elk #21 in Cataloochee Valley. What was the guy thinking of? The answer is that he wasn't thinking.

He had brought a gun in the park (still illegal) and shot a protected animal. There's no hunting in the national parks and in addition, the elk are protected no matter where they go.

As Bob Miller, the Public Affairs officer for the park said, "he didn't get the carcass".

You can imagine that the Elk Bugle Corp message board is full of outrage and sadness. Pat Maier even wrote an obituary about it.

Elk Bull # 21 died on Friday, November 13, 2009. Number 21 was born in Elk Island, Canada, and moved to Cataloochee Valley from Land Between The Lakes, Tennessee/Kentucky in 2001. He was 13 years old.
Number 21 was gunned down by a "low life" while happily living in the meadows in Cataloochee Valley. He leaves behind a host of brothers and sisters and several grandchildren. In addition to his family in Cataloochee Valley and Cherokee, he leaves behind 85 grieving Elk Bugle Corps Members and several Great Smoky Mountain National Park Rangers who considered him family, along with thousands of visitors who come to the Valley annually to visit with the Elk Family there.
No services are planned at this time, however, many grieve this tragic loss to our family of Elk in Cataloochee Valley and the surrounding area.

Within those many messages of sadness and condolences about Elk #21, no one made the connection between the elk poaching and guns in the park. And I wasn't going to stir the pot - I try to stay clear of controversial issues on the EBC Yahoo board.

The Great Smoky Mountains Book Fair in Sylva was a big hit. Over 50 authors gathered in a church to meet readers, give talks and compare notes. My publishers, Milestone Press, shared a table with me.

I went to a talk on Sense of Place with Pam Duncan, Fred Chappell, Ron Rash and Vicki Lane. Lane was the only one who wasn't born bred in the mountains. She came here in 1975. When the panel host asked everyone where home was, Chappell said "Wherever Susan (his wife) serves the meatloaf on a plate."

Note who has a personal website. When you're really big, you don't need your own website.

Sometimes I go east of Asheville. Today I needed to scout a hike I'll be leading for the Carolina Mountain Club in December: Kitsuma Peak. This was not wilderness, but the history and trails were very interesting.

Kitsuma Peak is in the Appalachian District of Pisgah National Forest. The trail up Youngs Ridge starts from the Old Fort Picnic Area. I've never seen anyone actually picnicking there though there are several tables, water and a bathroom. It's a nice spot by the Swannanoa River.

The climb up Youngs Ridge is not steep, just steady.

I hadn't been here since 2007 and I remember it as much steeper. Either I'm in good shape or I have a poor memory. Maybe the latter since I forgot that it was hunting season. Fortunately, Tish, my hiking partner today, remembered and brought two vests. We wore our vests on the outside of our packs, which was a pain but I was grateful for the orange.

We got to the top of Kitsuma Peak in a little over two hours. We had great views to the south of Old Fort but I couldn't identify any of the mountains.

Then we started the down, down, down as the traffic noise on I-40 got louder and louder. We met a fellow mountain biking up the trail. We reached a wide road and paralleled I-40. We passed a few houses which now faced I-40. No walls, no noise barriers, just the interstate.

We turned right in Swannanoa Gap and walked on Royal Gorge Rd. Then we reached the barricade and it became Point Lookout Trail - see the picture above. The road had been resealed, probably for bikes, since traffic was not allowed here.

Point Lookout was another surprise.

A Boy Scout Troop had placed two benches and a flag pole. Quite a contrast from the way it was two years ago.

We paralleled the railroad tracks, though we didn't see a train. The Southern Railroad goes in and out of tunnels. This was the last push for the railroad before it came to Asheville in 1880. Lots of history here which I recount in Hiking North Carolina's Blue Ridge Heritage.

Finally, we come back to the traffic part of the road and pass several horses in a field.

I told you at the beginning that it was not a wilderness hike.

Come to the Great Smoky Mountains Book Fair in Sylva on Saturday (Nov. 14) from 9 A.M. to 3 P.M.

It will have many regional authors, including Wayne Caldwell and Ron Rash (and me).

It's a great way to meet the authors, go to some good panel discussion and maybe buy a book or two.

You can find the exact location on their website but Sylva is a small town. Everyone will be buzzing about this fair on Saturday.

See you there!

National Geographic Traveler has rated 133 best destinations in the world for travel. The Great Smoky Mountains National Park didn't do well.

A national treasure surrounded by a bathtub ring of ugly, unplanned development” especially around Pigeon Forge, Tenn., the magazine said.

The problem with these surveys is that they compare apples to oranges or maybe in this case, apples to broccoli. Both are good but they're different.  As everyone knows by now, the Smokies are the most visited park in the United States - almost 10 million visitors. In addition, there is almost no development in the park. No great lodge, no Yosemite Village with gas stations and coffee shops. So all of that is outside the park - that's what the quote above refers to.

National Geographic asked experts to look at authenticity and stewartship. Go to Cataloochee; you can't get more authentic than that. I think the problem is that these experts never got into the Smokies; they just drove on Newfound Gap Rd.

And number one - Norway's Fjord region. I've been there; it's lovely but it isn't the Smokies.

Starting with 56.8 miles, 9,000 ft. ascent

The conversation that evening at campsite #40 centered on only one thing - how cold it was and what layers we were wearing.

I had everything on - Capilene top and bottom, another polyester long-sleeve top, fleece jacket, neck warmer, two pairs of gloves, a hat and heavy, dry socks. And I was still cold.

We prepared dinner very quickly. I had brought a quinoa salad that I had made at home and put in a zip-lock bag, so there was no cooking or cleaning up. I boiled water for tea and hot chocolate and that was it.

Sharon and Carolyn were ready to jump in their respective tents but Sharon had suggested that I bring a deck of cards. Since I carried that deck for over 16 miles on my back, we were going to play cards. But I could see that they were ready to go to sleep. We were all bundled up in our sleeping bags by 8:30. I had bought a liner to add some warmth to my sleeping bag but I was still cold.

Stars were out and there was an almost-full moon. You almost didn't need a flashlight.

Finally morning. My thermometer said that it was 30 degrees and we believed it. More tea and a hard boiled egg and we started up Rough Fork Trail.

Rough Fork refers to the rough water but the trail was also very steep. I didn't care - I was going to get warm.

We had obstructed views as we climbed. It wasn't long until we shed almost all our layers.

A backpacker came down asking us where we had come from. He had a map but had no idea where he was or how to read the map. He didn't know that the big numbers were campsites or that Cataloochee Campground was closed. The Smokies are so forgiving. It's difficult to get lost on the trails or to get into too much trouble.

We reached Polls Gap at about 11 A.M. and had a very early lunch. We were lured by the sun and the garbage cans.

A party of horse riders came up and turned onto Hemphill Bald Trail. They were heading for the Swag, a very upper class resort, but I don't think they were staying there.

Then the road walk started - we had 7 miles of road walking. The Balsam Mountain Rd. and Heintooga Rd. were supposed to close Oct. 31 - that's why we had left our cars on the Blue Ridge Parkway - but the roads were still open. We had to watch for traffic but the walk went fast.

We met several hunters from Maggie Valley at an overlook looking down in bewilderment. They had lost their hunting dogs somewhere down off the road and didn't know what to do. I assume that they were hunting in Pisgah National Forest and their dogs just migrated into the park. Hunting is not allowed in the National Parks and they looked seasoned enough to know that.

After about two miles of road walking, we left the park, our homeplace, and entered Blue Ridge Parkway land. That's it for the Smokies on our MST project and I was sad. There will be a lot of entering and leaving parks and forests on this MST project and I can't get too attached to any section. And of course, I'll keep coming back to the Park.

Once on the Blue Ridge Parkway spur, there were official lookouts. By now, it was hot and Sharon and I were in shorts.

I had a picture taken of me with my pendant created by Chris Van Dyke, a local jeweler in Asheville. You can't see the outdoor themed silver piece but you can look at his expensive stuff on the web.

No, he didn't give me the pendant so I could plug him. I paid full price -  and for everything else I mention.

We reached our cars at 2:30 P.M. We had walked a mere 11.9 miles with 2,700 ft. of ascent today. Sharon and Carolyn had a long drive back to Charlotte. I had to check out the next couple of MST sections.

Cumulative after day 5 - 78.7 miles, 11,700 ft. of ascent.