Grandfather Mountain

08/08/26

Managed to get me some time off in early August, so I flew back to Tennessee for a few days of ramblin' and wanderin' and visiting with family and eating and such. Went on a couple of scenic drives through the country. Checked out a dilapidated lookout tower. Roller skated with my sister. And then, near the tail end of my Tennessee sojourn, my Mom and I decided that it would be neat to check out Grandfather Mountain State Park, a place that neither one of us had visited in the past. 

I'd seen the namesake Grandfather Mountain back in January of this year from the summit of Table Rock. Looked interesting. Tall. Somewhat precipitous. Saw some formations along a ridge, little knobs and bumps and such. Rocky, distant, cold. January was not the time to go. Too much ice, too much snow. But now, in the balmy, leafy-green season of late summer, there was no excuse. The weather, albeit a tad rainy, was beautiful. Had to check it out. And so we did.

Didn't know too much about the place. Certainly didn't know about the ridiculous entry fee. Oh brother. Don't think I'll ever go through the main gate ever again. Not only is it super expensive, but they also charge per person. Wow. Ain't never been to a state park that does that. Oh well. We'd driven all that way and we were gonna check it out, exorbitant entry fees be damned. 

And so we drove up the scenic road, casually coasting along the twists and turns, everything bright and green and fresh and clean. And then we found a parking spot, filled out a day-use permit, and then began the trek up the mountain, the signage warning us that we'd better be back by 6pm OR ELSE!

Started off real casual-like. Nothing too crazy. Just a few mellow switchbacks through gorgeous forest. Recent rains had coated everything in a fine layer of moisture, the ground somewhat muddy in places, the rocks slick, the leaves hanging heavy with drops of crystalline water. Coming from the high desert, this buffet of ferns and trees and grass and roots and mud and the ever-present wetness was a bit overwhelming for my senses; the forest bombarding my nose with an overpowering perfume of freshness, battering my eyes with every possible shade of green; the air sweet and clean on my tongue, the ground slippery and slick underfoot, the birds loud and numerous, peppering the late morning with thousands of songs. 

And then we made a right and started making our way up to the first little obstacle of the day: MacRae Peak. This was where things started gettin' fun, at least for me. Mom wasn't really having it. Didn't like the combination of steep terrain and slippery rocks. But we took our time and slowly moseyed on up to the peak, encountering cables and ladders that helped us through particularly challenging sections.

Up and up and out of the forest and into the land of air and cloud and wind and views. Lots of views. The higher we climbed, the better they became. I was lovin' it. The trail was definitely legit, offering decent exposure and sweeping views of the surrounding area. Certainley not for the faint of heart. One older guy who was in front of us kept saying "Seriously? Really? Man, I don't know about this! This is nuts!" And he was right. For the casual hiker, this trail will be a little challenging, especially for those that possess even the tiniest aversion to heights. It's kind of like Angels Landing, but just a tad less extreme. 

We eventually topped out after scrambling up a number of ladders, now walking along a cloudy, slippery ridge. MacRae Peak came into view, and I realized that this was one of the little bumps I'd seen from Table Rock all those months ago. A couple of older ladies ascended the ladder to the top of the peak. I followed suit, Mom deciding that it wasn't worth it. Once atop the ladder it was a quick little jaunt to the highpoint, sweeping views of the surrounding country stretching off in all directions. 

MacRae Peak

West

Southwest

Northeast; Attic Window Peak center

Once down the ladder, it was off to the next obstacle of the day: Attic Window Peak. We slowly descended away from MacRae to a saddle, carefully making our way down a particularly slick section with an even slicker cable. Mom didn't like that at all; not one bit. Once we made it to the saddle she mentioned that she probably wouldn't go much farther, especially if there were more slippery sections like the one that we'd just passed. 

Back in the forest, we were greeted with the songs of the birds yet again, stopping often to snap a photo of a mushroom or something like that. And then it was back to up, back to steepness, back to boulders and rocks and wetness as we made our way up to Attic Window Peak.

Attic Window Peak. The trail goes up the left chute

The slippery cable

More ladders, more slipperiness. Went through a teeny-tiny talus cave. Started heading up a prominent chute. Mom called it there; told me she'd wait for me at the saddle. I continued along, picking up the pace, scampering up the chute to the top of Attic Window Peak. Not as airy as MacRae, in my opinion, but it had good views nonetheless. Grandfather Mountain rose in the northeast, still a good clip away. I didn't linger long. With one last look I said goodbye to Attic Window and then trotted off down the trail, the clouds spilling over the ridge, the ground muddy and loose, everything wet, wet, wet. 

The teeny-tiny talus cave

Looking down the chute

Attic Window Summit, MacRae center left

Grandfather Mountain out there in the distance

Didn't stop to take a singe picture. Kinda just jogged the whole way, slippin' and slidin' in the mud every ten seconds. The trail mellowed out significantly after descending the opposite side of Attic Window; just a peaceful, rolling, muddy jaunt through the dripping wet forest. 

Eventually, I hit the base of Grandfather Mountain and met a fairly steep grade. Up and up, the clouds rolling in, blanketing everything in a gray mist. Dang. Looked like I wasn't gonna get no views from the summit. Oh well. 

I eventually hit a fork and made a left, heading towards something called "Watauga View." Whelp, ain't no view there; the thing was completely socked in with clouds. So I backtracked to the fork and continued towards the summit of Grandfather Mountain, hitting the highpoint somewhere along the way. All that was left after that was to get to the east summit, which seemed to be the place where most people were going anyway. 

I got behind a conga line of folks making their way over,  passed 'em, scampered up a couple more ladders, and then topped out on the rocky summit, the most crowded summit of the day. For a brief moment the clouds cleared and I got one decent picture of the southwest, Attic Window Peak surrounded by a rings of clouds. And then everything became gray once again and it was time to leave, so I hopped off the summit and jogged the rest of the way back to the saddle between Attic Window and MacRae, my shoes and legs slathered in mud.

The one photo I got from Grandfather; Attic Window center

Met up with Mom at the saddle and the two of us decided to take the Underwood Trail for the way back. Not wanting to go up and over and down all those steep, slippery cables again, we figured this would be a good decision. The Underwood Trail bypasses MacRae Peak completely, offering a less exposed, but nonetheless steep, alternative. Consequently, we were both glad that we didn't take this trail on the way in; it would've absolutely sucked. As we were voicing this complaint some folks overheard us and said, "Oh yeah, we know. We took this trail this morning." Well, there you have it.

We continued down the hellish grade, not a single switchback in sight to relieve the tension in our knees and quads. And then we came upon a ladder, the last of the day. Down the ladder, down the trail, we eventually reached the Grandfather Trail yet again, the voices of people heading up the ladders and cables to Mac Rae Peak reaching our ears: "Are you serious?" "Wow." "This is insane!" "That's it, I'm going back." 

The only ladder on the Underwood Trail

And we followed the trail to the upper parking lot, stopping by the "Grandfather Mountain Top Shop" to look at all the overpriced merchandise housed within its crowded confines. After our brief bout of window shopping, there was only one more thing to do: check out the "mile high" swinging bridge. This seemed to be the most popular attraction of the park. Everyone was there. Full parking lot. A sea of people, the kind of concentration that you'd see at an amusement park or the Buc-ee's in Sevierville on the 4th of July. We walked up to the bridge, people everywhere takin' pictures and selfies and vloggin' and talkin' and jumpin' up and down and such. "Load Limit 40 Persons On Bridge At One Time" is what the sign said. There were probably 60 people on that bridge. Oh well. Time to test the limits of structural engineering. 

Mile High Swinging Bridge

And then, like magic, nearly everyone that was on the bridge got off and it was relatively clear and so Mom and I sauntered along, the thing swinging free and light over a deep chasm. Once across, we joined the horde and waltzed on over to the final peak of the day, Linville Peak, where a park employee was standing around answering all kinds of questions about the views and the landmarks and the history and all kinds of kooky stuff like that. 

Linville Peak, view northwest

North

Southish, Table Rock wayyyy out there

Once we'd had enough of the views and the crowds on Linville Peak, all that was left was a brief walk down the Bridge Trail to the lower parking lot where we hopped in the car and drove on out of there, the clouds booming with thunder, threatening rain.

And we stopped at Wilson Center on the way back, 'cause, why not? Walked along the nature trail. It was kind of like a zoo. I suppose that's why they charge and arm and a leg to enter this park, but still, c'mon now! Saw us some bald eagles, some bears, some elk, some otters. Didn't see no mountain lions; they were out of sight, laying along the concrete directly beneath the viewing area gettin' their beauty sleep. 

And then we drove on down the road, stopping near the famed "Forest Gump Curve" for a quick picnic lunch before the rain hit. Watched the cars, watched the clouds. And that was about it. Drove on back to Johnson City, avoiding the rain the whole time, the clouds unable to catch us. 

It was a good day in the mountains and an excellent way to end my little vacation to Tennessee. I'm sure to return to Grandfather Mountain in the future, only next time I'll approach it from the east. Ain't no way am I going through that west entrance again!