Black Balsam Knob

Miles: 12
Time: 6.5 hours
Elevation Gain: Roughly 1500 feet?

(I made the mistake of using my GPS running watch on Mt. Mitchell last week and now my compulsion to record has been extended to hiking. Although, now I need a watch that records elevation as well.)

Morning view from the top of Black Balsam Knob

I have given my heart to Art Loeb and his trail, section 3, or some of it at least. Shining rock and its evil spawn of rocks, he can keep.

The open balds offer persistent views

The Art Loeb Trail spans 30 miles and is divided into four sections. Section 3 begins at the base of Black Balsam Knob and crosses four peaks over 6000 feet: Black Balsam Knob (6214 feet), Tennant Mountain (6040 feet), Grassy Cove Top (6050 feet), through the Shining Rock Wilderness and over Shining Rock Mountain (6000 feet), and then past the base of Cold Mountain (yes, the one from the novel and film). Each ascension is not more than a few hundred feet, so elevation gain is minimal despite the number of peaks. (Art Loeb was a Carolina Mountain Club member who often hiked and cared for the area.)

From the start of the trail, looking back over the mountains I drove up through

What makes this trail spectacular is the bald, treeless ridgeline of the mountains it crosses. On a clear day, like today, the visibility can reach 70 miles. It is stunning, unbelievable that I have lived 35 years and not hiked this trail. Mt. Mitchell may own the best single viewpoint at 6684 feet and offer a more strenuous climb, but I will take the balds. Maybe it's the innate sun-worshiper in me or my fear of whatever wildlife is always rustling in the forested trails, but as the lean morning sun climbs over these mountains there isn't another place in the world I would rather be.

The first "bald" before Black Balsam Knob

It was another perfect Saturday for hiking in Western North Carolina. I couldn't believe my luck to have two Saturdays like this in a row: 40 degrees in the morning, rising to 60 or so in the afternoon under perfectly clear skies. The trail head is located off the Blue Ridge Parkway, about 35 miles South of Asheville (nearly 1.5 hours from Old Fort).

A rocky ascent up the second bald

At the start of the trail, some backpackers are just waking up from their overnight in a forested area to the right. Then the trail ascends the first "bald", exposing the beautiful mountain views I passed on the drive up the Parkway. I have never seen anything like this before; it seems like it belongs in another country. When I have imagined hiking mountains, this is what I pictured. Not forests, but open areas of grass and rock.

They have the right idea: Camping at the top of Black Balsam Knob

After another small bald is Black Balsam Knob, the peak of the trail in terms of height and views. Climbing up I see a tent at the top, and I can't think of a better place for it. In fact, farther down the trail are several camping areas and several campers, none who thought the highest peak on the trail might be the most spectacular. 

From the top of Black Balsam Knob

I wandered around the peak of Black Balsam Knob and found a meandering trail around the side. It wasn't marked but it was obviously going in the right direction so I followed it down through the open grass, frolicking like a 12 year old Swiss girl. Up the next mountain I climbed and came upon a backpacker, still exhausted from an eight mile hike the day before, but determined to make it through another one today.

On the way up Tennant Mountain

The backpacker told me to pass, but I was busy taking pictures, wanted to go slow because of my ankle and wanted to follow him since he was doing a loop I had read about but couldn't find enough information on to try.  So I stayed back and followed him.

From the top of Tennant Mountain

At the bottom of Tennant Mountain is an open area for camping with abandoned campfires, and from there you enter the Shining Rock Wilderness area.

From the bottom of Tennant Mountain

At this point, there's a fork in the trail, and the backpacker ahead of me goes right. This path looks less frequently traveled but I followed him because I was interested in doing the loop. Also, the other trail looks like it's bypassing the mountain, whereas this one is definitely going over the top.

Ascending Grassy Cove Top

Near the top, the trail winds around the side and eventually I come across the backpacker resting, so I passed. I never saw him again.

From Grassy Cove Top

At the bottom of this mountain you enter the Shining Rock Wilderness Area, a 18,483 acre tract of preserve known for its huge, white, quartz rock outcrops at the peak of Shining Rock Mountain.  It's also known for its poorly marked trails, which I would soon discover.

Approaching Shining Rock Mountain

At the foot of Shining Rock is another camping area, this one populated with a few tents and some college students. They are just getting started, and jump out onto the trail ahead of me. I followed them for awhile until they, too, stopped for a break. It's not a long break though, as I hear them behind me as I continue on.

The pile of rocks I decided was the trail

I arrived at a wooded area with no indication of where the trail leads. A huge, monster rock lies to the left, and no trails are visible. For some reason, I gravitated to the rock instead of the other peripheries and started climbing it. It looked sort of like a trail, and then I heard one of the students close behind so I thought maybe it was. I don't usually take joy in this sort of thing, but I was climbing a rock! I felt like a child and it was fun.

Shining Rock. I was standing on it, so hard to get a pic.

Only one person followed, and I learned from him that it was not in fact the trail, but this was Shining Rock and we were standing on it. His friends had climbed onto it from some other direction and they delighted in getting a new photo for their Facebook page. I felt about a hundred years old. The guy who had climbed up behind me had a map and showed me that we were on Shining Rock Mountain, and if we climbed down the other side it would meet back up with the Art Loeb Trail, which led to Cold Mountain.

Another hiker enjoying the view

I didn't want to wait for the boys so I climbed down the rock, figuring I could find the trail off the mountain, and reconnect with Mr. Loeb and his trail. I couldn't and I didn't. After dismounting the rock, I saw nothing that resembled a coherent trail, but a path or two that looked promising. It was all large boulders and treacherous trails that stopped immediately against impassable bush.

Climbing off the rock down some rocks that I thought might be a trail

I heard the boys head off in another direction and tried to follow but I was too far away and couldn't find a direct path from where I was. I climbed back up the rocks but by then they were gone and I had no idea what direction they went.  Every trail I took led to some shining rock or another, but not the one I started from.

Another dead end, but at least there's a nice view!

I started to panic. I tried one dead-end trail after another until I came to a wooded camping area that had several trails leading out from it. One of these must lead to the actual trail. I tried each one until I found what appeared to be a legitimate trail and followed it in the direction that would have put me back on track to go over the Shining Rock mountain in the direction the boys had gone.

By now though, I had no interest in seeing anything new; I wanted familiar. I had been hiking 3.5 hours, so I still had a half hour before my planned turnaround, but I really just wanted to head back. Shortly I came across a group of hikers and asked them what trail we were on, and they were just as lost as I was. They, too, had been to Shining Rock and now were trying to get over the current mountain, and on to Cold Mountain. I told them I thought they were headed in the right direction and continued backtracking.

The other fork: a semi-forested path

I came to a fork in the trail that I ignored before since I was following the backpacker. I had some time to spare so I took the opposite path, hoping it was just another way to get around the mountain and to see something new. This trail rounded the outside of the woods that topped this mountain, whereas the other side was open. After about ten minutes I heard some rustling in the woods above. This wasn't unusual of course, but I looked up to see a large cat-like form darting through the trees.

Reminds me of a dehydrated Everglades

Trails in the area are often posted with instructions for bear encounters, but what about mountain lions or similar creatures? Do they even exist here? Maybe it was a deer? I stopped, then quickly turned around. They say you should were bells or sing to avoid startling bears so I started singing refrains of "la la la", hoping the same applied to whatever this creature was. I repeated the "song" over and over and over until I emerged from the forest and rejoined the original trail.


I loved balds more than ever, and hiked around the other side of the mountain as swiftly as I could to reach the portion of the trail that descended down. There I encountered yet another fork, and since I couldn't remember how I came up I chose one and down I went, stumbling over a litter of descendant shining rocks. I didn't remember the trail being so rocky on the way up, but my memory has failed in greater matters than this.

Then it finally came, the ankle twist I had been waiting for, and a shriek followed that must have filled the valley below.  The pain dulled after a minute or so and when I tested my foot I found it unaffected. Just my ankle was sore so I moved on down the rocky chute, stone by stone, until I reached a connecting trail and a sign that said, "Erosion", indicating the direction from which I had come. I now remember this sign and this junction, naturally following a different path up the mountain. Argggghhh.

Finally off Shining Rock -- Time to pee!

Leaving Shining Rock, I was now ready to resume my pleasant journey back through the balds, but first I had to pee. I had been thinking about how this would go, since there are no trees to duck behind, and was going to do it on the semi-forested spur until wildlife threatened it right out of me. Now, in an open valley between mountains it seemed natural to leave the trail and find a comfy patch of grass, which was indeed an improvement over any forested trail I've used before. I do love it here.

A nice break for my ankle

 At the base of Grassy Cove Top there's another unmarked fork, but this time I remember which one I came down and that it was the correct trail. However, the other trail was wide, clear and flat and looked like it was going around the mountain. With my ankle still reeling from the erosion on Shining Rock, I decided to follow it. It was the reprieve that I needed and indeed it joined the trail again on the other side.

Climbing up the other side of Tennant Mountain

One of the best things about this trail is that the return trip is just as fun as the way out. Since it climbs up and down a series of mountains, you're climbing the portions you walked down before, and vice versa, and it seems like a completely different trail.

A couple enjoying the view on Tennant Mountain

With the ankle now turned once it was sensitive to every slight twist and the remainder of the trail seemed like a rock quarry. The other ankle could turn 90 degrees without any twinge of pain, but the other reveled in it. So, despite my love for Art, I was quite happy to see him end.

One last look from Balsam Knob before heading back