Haiwassee/High Shoals Falls (GA)

North Georgia is Cherokee Country, and Haiwassee is derived from the Cherokee word “Ayuhwasi,” which means “savanna” or “large meadow.”  Haiwassee is a smallish mountain lake town that sits about three corvid flight-miles south of the North Carolina border.  The town has that type of small ski-town feel; without the skiing (unless you count the ample water skiing opportunities in the 7,000-acre lake that virtually surrounds the town).  Although smallish in feel, the town has a few upscale amenities that you may not expect this far away form a major metropolis.  There's a respectable wine shop, restaurants of varying cuisines, and the praecognita sentinel of civilization--a Starbucks.  

But we didn’t come to this neck of the woods to visit Haiwassee or to attend the Georgia Mountain Fair; we came to hike waterfalls.  Thirteen miles due south from Haiwassee on Hwy 75/Hwy 17 is Indian Grave Gap Road.  It isn’t listed as Indian Grave Gap Road, but rather a less conspicuous 1' x 2' sign that read "FR283" (Georgia Fire Road # 283).  This 1 1/2 lane gravel road can be easily mistaken for a private country driveway, so that’s what we did the first time we passed it.  

Kristy & The Boys at Blue Hole (Upper) Falls

Once our bearings became more calibrated, we began our rough accent up “Old 283” to the High Shoals Falls trailhead.  No more than a quarter-mile up this road we spotted a really nice, late model Cadillac Escalade that had stopped at a shallow river-crossing.  The opulent SUV waited a minute, then retreated about 50’ to where the road was wide enough to execute a "180."  We waited from afar at a locale that would accommodate both vehicles on (semi) terra firma.  As our vehicles slowed to pass, the driver rolled his window to chat.  He had Georgia plates and I had temporary Virginia plates.  I asked him if he knew this road and he replied that he didn’t.  He said that he and his family were out looking for waterfalls, but didn’t know if he should perform the river-crossing.  I told him that we were also hunting waterfalls, and we had reasonable belief that one was at the top of this road.  We wished each other luck and we forged onward.

The water crossing was a trivial spillway that contained no more than 6” of slowly moving mountain stream water.  We crossed it with ease and continued up the mountain.  “Old 283” is the narrowest of winding, gravel mountain roads; with eroded edges that drop dangerously into the adjacent ravine below.   Considering the primary designation as a fire road, a firefighter should consider battling a forest fire to be less life-threatening than the road that carries him there.  A continual sequence of hairpin turns—linked together by short, faltering washboard straightaways—made this 15 MPH journey a slow-motion, white-knuckle, molar-rattling event.

When we reached the trailhead, there were a few pick-up trucks haphazardly parked in the designated parking area.  For some reason these trucks looked to be outfitted for hunting versus hiking.  My observations were confirmed.

Stay Calm & Coexist

One can derive much from a simple sign.  This particular one let me know:

1. We may encounter deer in their natural habitat.  Not particularly an issue with us, but we’ll need to keep our hounds on leash.
2. We may encounter bear in their natural habitat.  Bigger issue, especially if we should encounter a mama with cubs.  We’ll need to keep a watchful eye for “fresh” bear signs.
3. We may wish to wear blaze-orange clothing while hiking, as deer & bear hunters may make us for a taxidermy trophy during our hike.  THIS was more unnerving than the first two.  Not expecting to be thrust into a spontaneous hunting safari, we did not bother to pack any blaze-orange apparel. 

We decided to continue with the hike, but be loud enough to either scare away any game, or alert ourselves to any hunters.  

High Shoal Falls trail is a moderate footpath that begins well above the falls, and terminates at the lower falls.  The upper segment is a semi-open walk amongst towering hardwoods, and descends into a greener “ferngullyish” habitat as it intersects and follows High Shoals Creek.  This decent into more noticeable greener surroundings is where the trail becomes much flatter, and much damper (read: muddy).  

High Shoals Trail (Upper Segment)

The middle segment has elements reminiscent of a Tim Burton production.  Exposed top roots from giant oaks that have endured years of steep-grade erosion, resembling of a den of wooden snakes amassed on the trail.  Vibrant green moss and lichen that carpets both the living and not; producing a contrast of color against the pastel browns of the fallen leaves.  Mighty timbers that once towered over this valley; now providing nutrients and a foothold amongst the rocky, rugged terrain to the young, nimble saplings and mushrooms that emerge from the rotting decay of their fibrous skeletons.

Exposed oak roots slithering across the trail

Patchy carpets of greenery

Opportunistic mushrooms

The tall timbers serve as an ecological foundation, both when they're alive and when they're dead. 

The path continues its declination, and begins to increase in pitch as it follows the rhododendron-lined creek. The lower segment houses the upper and lower falls, and a series of switch-backs and stone steps signal the proximity of the watery crescendo ahead.  The upper falls—also known as Blue Hole Falls—drops 20’ over a rocky outcropping into a deep blue pool.  The stream below narrows, providing a resurgence of energy as the flow continues towards the lower falls.  The lower falls consists of a series of cascading levels that descend 50’ into another deep blue pool.  

Blue Hole (Upper) Falls

Hours could be lost just watching the water polish the monstrous geologic formations.  To find such peace and tranquility while standing in the throat of the aquatic roar that resonates through the forest and valley below is purely inexplainable.  

High Shoals (Lower) Falls

After drinking-in our bionomic therapy, we headed back to the trailhead; less worried about deer and bears and hunters (oh my).  We met the Escalade crew about midway up.  They asked us if the hike was worth it, and I replied that I would let them know at the top.  Kristy and I both knew they had made a good choice, but also knew they needed to discover that for themselves.  The uphill trek was not as strenuous with fresh memories of our waterfall quest; and we reached the top with plenty of daylight to spare.  The hounds were tail-wagging’ tired, and if I had a tail to wag…I’d be that way too.  We headed back down Old 283 with gravity in our favor this time; letting the exhaust brake do all the work as we retraced a road that felt more like a railroad track…without the rails.  With plenty of sand still in the hourglass, we wanted to do something else…so we did.

wWw