Trip Report: Overnight Hike in the Cheaha Wilderness

Trip Report: Overnight Hike in the Cheaha Wilderness
Cheaha Wilderness Area, Talladega National Forest
November 21/22, 2016

Thomas and I took the dog on what was supposed to be a 3-day, 18-mile loop in the Cheaha Wilderness.

The day started off a bit later than planned, because we had to stash water at Adams Gap.  Last month we had to cut a hike in the Sipsey Wilderness short due to not having enough water, and we were determined to not let it happen again.  Another month of drought, punctuated only at the end by a teasing sprinkle of rain last week, meant that the water sources were going to be dry.  Still, confident that we would be able to make the loop in the time we had and loaded down with extra water in our packs, we set off from the Cheaha trailhead of the Pinhoti Trail.  We took the Cave Creek Trail southward into the wilderness.  The views were spectactular, the sky light was warm in the cool wind, and the flappy planes were twittering in the stick towers.

Maizy was having a great time; she loved the trip last month  We met various other hikers, but didn't stop to talk.  We had miles to cover.

The first mishap was when we came to a place in the trail where people had camped at an intersection between the Cave Creek trail and another, unmarked on our map and of course unsigned.  I looked at my map, looked at my compass, looked at what little terrain I could see in the forest, and decided to head right, downhill.  I thought we had made better time than we actually had.

Near the bottom of the mountain (half way down: "I sure hope to heaven and back that this is the right trail, because I don't want to climb back up this mountain!"), we met a couple who were heading back up.  They told us it was a dead end.  I only half believed them; so we continued down as they went their way.  Eventually, though -- in less than 200 yards, to be exact -- it dawned on me that maybe I'd made a mistake in reading the map and that we should turn around and go back.  We did, and thus lost two and a half hours, total, because the climb back up was particularly bitter.  No one likes realizing they've made such a horrible mistake.  But renewed with the resolve to reach our planned camping place by nightfall, we pressed on.

The second mishap was when I again misread my map, again thinking that we were farther along than we really were.  See, I thought the trail we had accidentally followed down the mountain was part of the Cave Creek trail, and that it was heading down the mountain to its trailhead.  It wasn't until hours later that I would figure out what actually happened -- when we passed the sign for the actual trail to go off to the left and down the mountain to the real trailhead.  Something just didn't compute.  Anyway, we happened across the connector trail from the Cave Creek trail to the Pinhoti, and thus to McDill Point.  So tired were we that, upon realizing where we were, we didn't think about simply going south on the Pinhoti to our water stash, or to the intersection of the Pinhoti, Odum Scout, and Chinnabee Silent trails, which was where we were wanting to camp.  No, I'm a hard-headed fool sometimes, and slightly delerious from the exertion.  After watching a military V-22 Osprey buzz over the ridge and down the next valley at seemingly tree-top height, we reversed our steps again and returned to the Cave Creek trial.  Trail.  Same thing by this point.

Southward again we trudged, in the waning light.  We passed the turnoff where I thought we had been hours ago.  There's a really nice sign there, by the way.  We finally decided that the light was going fast and given the mishaps of the day we ought to stop and camp.

This was the first time I'd had a freeze-dried Mountain House meal.  I got us each a single-serving pouch of lasagna and one of chili-mac, since that was what looked most appealing when I was standing in Walmart late last week.  I opted for chili mac, and Thomas opted for lasagna.  Maizy opted for kibble, mixed with peanut butter.  Maizy loved her meal, and we did too -- it was surprisingly good -- enough so that I think I'll see about using them for our huge Pinhoti hike in February.

After eating and cleaning up, it was getting cold (Maizy was starting to shiver a bit), I got into the hammock.  This time I brought my TNF Blue Kazoo bag, rated to 15°.  I had my poncho liner and a blue closed-cell foam pad for insulation underneath.  I've used sleeping bags in my hammock since the beginning, but this time I didn't zip up inside it like most do.  I unzipped it all the way, put my feet in the foot-box, and then draped it over me like a quilt.  I put Maizy on my chest again, and used my poncho liner draped over us to help keep us warm.  It worked pretty well, although she kept shifting and messing up my lay.  At some point I drifted off to sleep, waking only to take my fleece hat off because my head was sweaty.  We were warm enough in the mid-20s (by my thermometer) temperatures overnight.

The next morning, after breaking camp and eating a piece of jerky each, we continued on our way.  We crossed a dry stream and within a few hundred yards came across a great-looking little campsite nestled among the trees along the trail.  Through the rest of the morning we kept passing really nice signs at various trail intersections, further compounding my aggravation for having whiffed it so bad the day before.  But as we walked we kept drinking water, and there was no more water to be found.  This became the source for the fourth mishap: I had heard that there was reliable water at Turnipseed Camp, and had somehow decided that it was "city water" -- i.e., water from a pipe.  Thus, I hadn't thought to stash water there.

Well, we came to the intersection of the Odum Scout, Pinhoti, and Chinnabee Silent trails.  I, wanting to salvage as much of the hike as possible, and being the same hard-headed guy I was yesterday, decided we should push on to Turnipseed.  "There's water there," I reasoned.

It was stagnant water in a ditch, and I still don't have a filter cartridge, so I didn't think it was safe to drink.

Ah, but I've missed a mishap.  The third mishap was as we traveled down the Chinnabee Silent Trail.  Now, some say the Stairway to Heaven on the Pinhoti Trail is the worst climb on the whole trail.  This one has to be way, way worse.  I've never seen the Stairway to Heaven, so later I may change my mind.  At least we were going down, not up.  But the other thing about Mount Cheaha is that it's made out of quartzite, which is extremely slippery, especially when there are dry leaves on it.  All the way down I was leaning on my walking stick (an awesome thing, by the way), until this one terrifying moment when even it slipped, and I was suddenly nursing a massive gash on my shin.  Fortunately, it didn't bleed much.  But man oh man did it hurt!

Down the mountain I hobbled.  When we got to what looked like a ditch of stagnant water, I wanted to stop.  But we were just outside Turnipseed Camp, so we pressed on.  We sat at a picnic table and ate lunch, and then went over to the outhouse to get water.

Only there was no water.

Turnipseed Camp has no running "city" water.

Dang.  I'd drunk all mine, and Thomas only had a little.  Adams Gap was too far in the wrong direction.  I knew there was supposed to be a water source ahead, but to be honest I was worried that it was dry as well.  And since we'd come off the mountain, cell reception was terrible.  I couldn't research it.

We talked about it for a few minutes, consideriing our options.  Climbing that mountain on the Chinnabee Silent Trail was just not an option.  Continuing on to the trail shelter near Cheaha Falls was an option, but I wasn't sure we'd find water.  The one place I knew for an utter fact would have water was the pickup truck.  So we walked out to the highway and started north, up the mountain.

We'd gone maybe a mile when a Ford F250 stopped.  "Need a ride?" the man asked.

Turns out he's a retired firefighter from Northport, my old stomping grounds.  He drove us up the mountain to the trailhead parking area and dropped us off.  Really nice fellow.

We decided we'd had about enough and went and moved our water stash at Adams Gap out to the sign so people could use it if they wanted, and went back to Oxford.  It was a great trip, but it taught us several things.

First, stash water at more places.

Second, don't be so hard-headed about the route when there are several options.

Third, take some larger gauze pads and some non-adhesive tape (tape + leg/arm hair = torture!)

Fourth, wet and cold Maizy is going to be too much to deal with when I don't have a tent.  Getting her wet, nasty paws on my sleeping bag ain't gonna fly.  So she probably should stay home from the big Pinhoti hike -- especially since taking her gear weighs a lot more than not taking her gear.

And last, we're using freeze-dried meals for at least part of the Pinhoti hike.  They're fast, easy, and pretty good.  Maybe a bit expensive, but then I don't normally buy many of the items I had planned to take instead, so the cost was going to be about the same -- or even higher -- than just doing freeze-dried.

All in all, a great trip, even with all the mishaps and having to cut it short.  I can't wait to go back!