Spring ephemerals are that set of forest-dwelling wildflowers that are
sun-loving, and therefore must live their dazzling-but-brief lives in that
window of opportunity when the weather is warming but before the leaves on the
trees are fully out. In other words, here in the Smoky Mountains these
sun-loving forest-dwellers bloom in April.
One of the best (and best-known) trails for viewing this early spring
extravaganza is the Porters Creek trail in the Greenbrier section of the park.
Ten years ago, Greenbrier’s trails, trees, flowers, and rivers didn’t even
exist. Or, rather, they didn’t exist to
me.
At that time, I did my Smoky Mountain trout fishing in the Little
River around Tremont and Elkmont and my hiking on established trails. Quite
honestly, the trails in the Greenbrier section of the park are few in number
and not very exciting. Ramsey Cascades trail is good, but the rest of them
(Porters, Old Settlers, etc.) are extremely average, just wandering around in
the woods, going no place special.
However, in the summer of 2007 I had several epiphanies. First, I
realized that there are native brook trout in some of Greenbrier’s rivers.
Second, I discovered off-trail hiking. Suddenly, I loved hiking in the
Greenbrier section of the park for the same reason that I had previously
disliked it – the lack of trails. Greenbrier is a wilderness wonderland. I also
discovered that one of its trails – Porters Creek – has a well-deserved
reputation as a great April wildflower walk. The park’s Spring Wildflower Pilgrimage
(about the third week in April) makes the Porters Creek hike one of its premier
events. People from across the US attend the Pilgrimage. The Smokies doesn’t
have a lot of impressive wildlife (lots of salamanders, but no buffalo or
wolves), but it is a botanical wonderland. And the opening act in this floral
performance is the emergence of the early spring wildflowers – the spring
ephemerals.
I’ve learned that I can trust the forsythia bushes in my yard to tell
me when to go to Porters Creek. When they start to really, truly, fully bloom,
I know the wildflowers on the Porters Creek trail are beginning their annual
show. Some years I go to Porters every weekend in April, and each week the show
is somewhat different. Hepatica and Bloodroot are replaced by Phacelia and
Trout Lilies, which are replaced by Dutchmans Breeches and Trilliums, which are
replaced by Bishops Caps and Wild Geraniums, which are replaced… well, the list
goes on. These various species become old friends who show up every year, on
schedule, just to say “hello.” It’s like a family homecoming, except that you
are actually happy to see everyone… except maybe the Stinging Nettle, the one
plant that is just plain mean-spirited and hard to get along with. Sort of like
your old Uncle Bob who is always mad about something, so you say very little and
try not to sit next to him at the dinner table. Don’t even think about asking
him who he’s going to vote for.
The first mile of the Porters Creek trail is an old road. There is a
fine and varied population of spring ephemerals in this portion of the trail, including
some nice beds of Dwarf Crested Iris and a well-hidden set of Pink Lady’s
Slippers – both are high-status flowers among wildflower fans. And don’t miss
the sprinkling of delicate Bluets on the mossy rocks along the riverside, and
the occasional Showy Orchis along the edges of the trail.
This first mile of the trail ends with a loop that can be a bit
confusing. There’s a side trail that leads to an old barn and cabin, and
another trail (Brushy Mountain trail) that leads to Brushy Mountain and Mount
LeConte. The Porters Creek trail follows the creek by staying left. At this
point, the trail changes from a wide dirt road to a narrow, rocky trail. The
next half mile of the trail actually has very few wildflowers, and many people
give up here because it appears that the show is over. They’re wrong.
Keep going up this barren half-mile until you reach the
somewhat-scary, narrow footbridge at the 1.5 mile point. A few folks with
vertigo can’t cross here, which is a shame, because the best part of the show
is just beyond this footbridge.
Almost immediately after the footbridge the landscape changes into a
park-like openness with a thick carpet of greenery. Early in the season, this
carpet will be a breath-taking, snow-white bed of Fringed Phacelia, with a
smattering of yellow Trout Lilies. Later, it become Bishops Cap and Trillium
and Wild Geranium. I won’t list all the species. Instead, I’ll just repeat –
don’t stop after the first mile. Go the second mile, all the way to Fern Branch
Falls at the 2.0 mile point. The real show is that last half mile, past the
footbridge.
I’ve had some agnostic friends over the years who just couldn’t bring
themselves to believe in God. I understand their reluctance. An infinite spirit
world inhabited by angels and demons and an omnipotent God who created all this
out of nothing is an absurd idea. Preposterous. Utterly ridiculous. Childish.
But places like Porters Creek in April remind me that the only thing
more ridiculous than belief in a Spirit-Creator is the belief that such
beautiful places (and our ability to appreciate beautiful things) are the
result of a long, lucky sequence of random events. I just don’t have that much
faith… in Chance.
For me, Porters Creek in April is holy ground.
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