(click on the links in the text for more photos)
(click on the links in the text for more photos)
Photos and Text by Will Skelton
All the backpacking magazines have been raving about a “new area” on the state line of South Carolina-North Carolina, at the edge of the Appalachian escarpment, where the Blue Ridge Mountains, and their rivers, drop over what’s called the “Blue Wall” to the Piedmont region. It’s not canoeing and kayaking county, the drop is about 2,000 feet in only four miles. But Backpacker Magazine calls it, with perhaps a bit of exaggeration, since I’ve been to Tahiti, “The closest thing to Tahiti in the Lower 48…It’s idyllic.” Men’s Journal quotes the Sierra Club’s Bill Thomas “There’s nothing as outstanding east of the Rockies.” North Carolina, South Carolina, and the Federal Government, with the cooperation of prior landowner Duke Power, have assembled in various agencies over 50,000 acres of the Blue Wall lands, mostly accessible to the public. The entire area is known as Jocassee Gorges, although a North Carolina state park by that name encompasses only part of the area.
With these recommendations a group of HBG members (Diane Madison, Beverly Smith, John Dunlap, Bill Collins, Brad and Erica White, and trip leader Will Skelton) backpacked a section of the Foothills Trail that traverses much of the Blue Wall; we did only a short section of the 76 mile trail. We started at the Upper Whitewater Falls access (which falls, with Lower Whitewater Falls downstream, constitute what are probably the most impressive waterfalls in the East), followed the Whitewater River downstream, then undulated over ridges to the Thompson River. Fairly easy hiking and a perfect wildflower weekend, with dwarf crested iris and trillium everywhere.
At the Thompson River we checked out the obvious campsites, and most were taken, with the only available sites being beside the trail near the bridge across the river. I’m often accused of always looking for the perfect campsite, and indeed often do look around for a “better campsite.” This time there was a better campsite, indeed, a spectacular one. Several of us explored downstream, and I ended up rockhopping across the river. And found a campsite to dream of. The tent sites were in a wooded area, OK and actually a bit close together. But just downstream everything opened up into the perfect “dining room/living room.” The Thompson River cascaded over a huge slab of grey granite that was fairly level at first, but then precipitously descended to a beautiful pool 150 feet below. A canopy of green hung over the sides of the granite. We pumped water, cooked, built a fire, sat around, talked, did all the things you do in camp in this wonderful spot.
