Extra Caudill Cabin Video

Somehow I missed some video that I shot of the Caudill Cabin. It had been my intention to include the images on the previous video that I created but somehow I skipped them. I think that I was concentrating so much on editing the GoPro video that I'd made that I forgot about the extra stuff I did with my Canon camera. Sometimes it's best not to carry extra photography gear, and this was just such a case. I probably should have just relied on my SLR for both photos and video on that trip. In the future I'll be more careful about how much equipment I haul with me on these hikes.

Anyway, here's an extra YouTube video that I created from the skipped images.

The Caudill Cabin just before I shut and latched the door and took my leave.

The extra footage that I missed when I was assembling the previous video.

A Tough Hike to See the Caudill Cabin at Doughton Park.

I made the hike up to see the Caudill Cabin. I left my house very early so that I could get to the trailhead around 7:30, 8 at the latest. However, my directions from NC 21 were not accurate, so I had to get on the Blue Ridge Parkway and go down NC 18 toward North Wilkesboro. This, coupled with a stop along the Parkway to take photos at the developed section of Doughton Park slowed me considerably.

Finally, I made my way down to Longbottom Road and began to trek toward the trailhead. But I managed to pass it by about three miles and had to turn around. By the time I got to the parking area it was almost 10:30.

According to the map and directions I had the hike looked to be about 4.5 miles each way with about 1600 feet of elevation gain. One descriptor I read said that there were seven creek crossings. I ended up discovering, though, that all mileages were off by at least a mile each way; and there were, in fact seventeen creek crossings! Seventeen! Add to this the fact that the humidity levels were off the scale and I ended up being put through the wringer on this hike. It was horrible!

The first 1.7 miles or so is on the Grassy Gap Fire Road which apparently is a jeep road that has been used for fire suppression and to get equipment farther into the forest for trail maintenance. It's a slow, steady, easy climb along Basin Creek. This is all National Park property. It forms a big pie shaped wedge of land from the Blue Ridge Parkway down to the parking area on Longbottom Road. There are over thirty miles of trails on over 7,000 acres of land. Most people see only the part of the Park directly adjacent to the Parkway. But most of it is very different from these open meadows and it is, in fact, very heavily forested by recovering stands of hardwoods and white pines. This is what you hike through as you leave Longbottom Road and head up toward Caudill Cabin.

I was extremely impressed with the forests here. They are not composed of vast, ancient trees, but they are still imposing. Some of the stands of white pines are rather grand, but it is the groves of various hardwood species that are the most stirring.

All of the two trails that I used to access the Caudill Cabin site are adjacent to rushing streams. But it is when you reach Basin Creek that you find yourself in classic, southern Appalachian landscape. Trees tower over you, rhododendron blossoms are all around, rocks abound, and the sound of water crashing against polished stone is everywhere. This is indicative of the great blue wall of the mountains that rise up from the Piedmont so abruptly here in my native South.

The climb to the cabin was pleasant in many ways, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't difficult for me. The route is steep, and the seventeen creek crossing took a toll on me whenever I'd encounter one that was too deep to rock-hop and had to take the time to remove my boots and socks and then put them back on once I'd reached the opposite shore. In high heat and humidity, minor things like that take a toll. By the time I got to my destination I was as drenched as if I'd been doused by gallons of water, but it was all sweat that had soaked through my clothes. Yeah, it was pretty miserable in that respect.

As you climb you pass through what had once been the old Basin Creek community. Not quite a town, it still held a population of farmers who lived along the banks of the creek, farming the land and earning livings enough to support large families. That all came to an abrupt end one day in 1916 when a flood came roaring down the tributary washing away most of the houses and killing most of the people who had lived there. The community never recovered and in the 1930s the National Park Service purchased this large plot of land that is now Doughton Park.

The principle reason I went to hike there was to see the historic Caudill Cabin, the last remaining structure from the days just before the flood. But I also went to enjoy some solitude while I hiked, which has been missing from most of the outdoor trips I have taken recently. And it paid off. I did encounter one group of ladies who were coming down the mountain just as I was passing a large waterfall, and they asked me to take a group photo of them with their phone cameras (which I was happy to do).

Even though the hike did me in, I had a great time, suffered some hamstring cramps when I got home, but physically did okay compared to what I suffered through from some other more recent trips tromping up and down the steep slopes of the southern Appalachians.

 

The trail map for Doughton Park. As I have said, most people only see the strand of land adjacent to the Parkway road. But journey into the trail system and into the forests and you will find a completely new world.

This is the only part of the buildings at Doughton Park that is still being used as a visitors center. It was closed when I got there.

The large building adjacent to the visitors center is the old coffee shop that once served meals as an old-fashioned grill. Like most of the rest of the structures at Doughton Park it is now in sad shape and unused. This nation has plenty of money to piss trillions into war machines, but can't take care of its National Parks. The old coffee shop has recently undergone some basic repairs, and there are rumors that it will once again find use, but who knows?

Typical groomed lawn along the Parkway.

Basin Creek as I hiked along.

Rhododendron in full bloom.

The following few photos are the ruins of farms that once lined the creek. Many were killed in the 1916 flood.

The waterfall where I met the nice ladies hiking down the mountain. 

My initial view of the Caudill Cabin as I emerged from the deep forest.

This one-room cabin once served as home for an entire family.

I travel to the cabin.

Doughton Park

Doughton Park is a recreation area on the Blue Ridge Parkway and is a good example of what is wrong with the way the US government has been run for decades. The Parkway itself, and the specific recreation areas, visitors centers, campgrounds, lodges, and trail system were all created by, for, and with money from the common citizens of the USA. As such, these places belong to the working class who mainly use them.

Unfortunately, for some decades now the National Park Service has been continuously underfunded and our Parks have been allowed to deteriorate. Doughton Park and the structures which were once used as recreation, information, and lodging is a prime example of everything that is wrong with our National Parks system.

This center is still good for picnicking, hiking, and camping (outside of winter). But all of the buildings at Doughton Park are now closed, and have been since 2010. The Bluffs Lodge, the store, and the coffee shop have all been shuttered due--we are told--to the presence of mold and the need for reconstruction. I will take them at their word on this. However, the problem is that while the people who cannot enjoy these places are left waiting, the nation has more than enough money to squander on any number of corporate projects and weapons systems that are not needed.

This is the kind of thing that I see when I go out to use our Parks and Recreation Areas that makes my blood boil. Whose ass should I kick? Whose skull needs to be caved in?

For now Doughton Park and the buildings that we can no longer use and enjoy sit vacant and waiting, receiving just enough attention to keep from falling in. There is a pathetic attempt to raise less than one million dollars via private donations to get the coffee shop and the camp store reopened. (You can donate to that effort here.) Corporate welfare and military expenditures consume this much cash in seconds, but citizens cannot enjoy what we built and own because of the greed and stupidity of the way government tax revenues are disbursed. This is insane.

For now I can (and do) still visit Doughton Park to picnic, hike, and camp (in season). However, the rest of the recreation area sits largely ignored and abandoned. This is wrong. Our Parks and Recreation Areas are not meant to make a profit. The profit within them lies in the recreational activities and the pleasure of how our citizens are able to enjoy their leisure time. If it costs tax money to operate these areas, then that is money well spent. Doling out the working class taxes on corporate welfare and for insane weapons systems and the production costs that go into the pockets of the billionaires is a stinking way to piss our money down the 1% rathole.

The Bluffs Lodge. 24 rustic rooms that provide peace and quiet, and a wonderful environment in which to experience that peace.

The Park Service may very well level this lodge that should remain open and in public hands.

Central pavilion between the two buildings.

The view from the paved pavilion.

Shuttered!

We are the richest nation on Earth, and yet our priorities are skewed almost beyond believing. We fund things that are destructive on an incalculable level and we give money to vast corporations who don't need any help. Those same corporations are allowed to set our national agendas, and part of that agenda is the gradual and seemingly unstoppable dissolution of our public lands.

Parks are for things that cannot be measured in terms of dollars. We need our parks and wild lands for reasons far beyond the collecting up of material wealth. Our National Parks are a service and as such do not need to show a profit. The very idea that they should be the source of income for any corporation is a truly disgusting concept.

Currently, there are places where one can lodge in our National Parks that are operated by outside companies. These "concessions" have been a part of some of our National Parks almost since the creation  of those Parks. If that's the way they need to be operated, I don't necessarily have a problem with the idea. However, when a concessionaire doesn't want to bid on such an operation because it's too difficult to turn a profit, then that concession should be re-absorbed into the National Park system and operated as a civil service. Damn the profits. Give the jobs to people who want them and allow their employer to be the Park Service.

One of the best lodges where Carole and I like to stay from time to time is the one at Peaks of Otter. It's a concession operated by a private firm but on property built and owned by the National Park Service. That is, it's owned by the citizens of the USA. The concession has not been renewed because the firm who has been operating there claims that they can no longer turn a profit. Therefore, the Park Service is going to shutter the properties (Peaks of Otter Lodge, Mabry Mill Cabins, Doughton Park Lodge). At that point, no one will be able to lodge there and the buildings will remain dark.

What is going on? If the concessionaire doesn't want to operate the lodges, then the government needs to step up and do the right thing by operating them and employing local people to work there. Smaller government? If seeing our National Parks suffer and come apart at the seams is a part of so-called "smaller government", then to Hell with that pea-brained slogan.

One of the main draws...the most spectacular of the three Peaks of Otter.

View of the lodge from the lakefront.

I took this one from just outside our room.

Panorama of the lake and part of the lodge from the lawn leading down to the lake.

Making Good

Back in early December of 2006, we drove up to the Allegheny County to nab our Christmas tree as we try to do every year. On that occasion, we took a side trip on the Blue Ridge Parkway to Doughton Park where I looked at the rocky cliffs of Bluff Mountain plunging down to the valley far below.

Picnic under a lone pine at the top of Bluff Mountain.

These aren't the kinds of cliffs where you can fall quickly to a painful death. Instead, they're more like vast rocky ribs that hug the steep slopes of the mountain. Then, that cool December day, I promised myself to visit that spot again and go scrambling around on those tough ridges.

View of the Blue Ridge Parkway from the cliffs.

This weekend, I kept that promise to myself. After taking a look at Carole's land on Peach Bottom Mountain, we drove over to Bluff Mountain where Andy and I hiked to the top of the cliffs. While Andy waited for me, I downclimbed where I took a lot of photos and a video.

Big Daddy scrambles down the cliffs.

After enjoying the views and gawking at the amazing Fall colors, which were at their peak, I climbed back up to the top of the cliffs where Andy was waiting. It was fun. Not at all dangerous. What they call Class III scrambling. I got a scrape on my knee, and a small cut on my left arm, and an eye full of fantastic scenery.

You are crazy, old man. I'll wait up here.

I like keeping promises like that one.