The Foothills Trail, Summer Hike (July, 2020)

Oconee State Park to Table Rock State Park (Eastbound)

The Foothills Trail is a 76 mile trail that runs through the foothills of Southern Appalachia in Upstate South Carolina. It connects two of the state’s iconic state parks and showcases many beautiful waterfalls, rivers, and creeks along the way. I grew up in the area and the trail caught my attention once I fell into the world of long distance backpacking. It had been on my bucket list for a while when I finally was able to thru hike it in February of 2020. My first thru hike was Westbound, and details on that trip can be found in a previous blogpost. One thing that stood out to me on my first thru hike was how great the trail would be to hike in the summer. There are swimming holes-a-plenty which would make for a great relief from South Carolina’s brutal summer heat and humidity. In July of 2020 I had an unexpected week off work. My boyfriend, Raphael, is a sucker for a good swimming hole so I was anxious to show off this trail to him. Amid the concerns of the COVID pandemic, I knew this trail would be a great retreat. We hardly saw anyone on my first thru hike and I knew we could safely keep our distance from others along this trail. Raphael, myself, and our 5 year old mutt, Junie B., set off from Oconee State Park on July 21, 2020.

Since my winter thru hike had been Westbound, we decided to hike Eastbound this time around. The drive to Oconee State Park was easy and scenic. We didn’t have to worry about planting a car at the Eastern Terminus since I made arrangements with a friend to be picked up there. The weather for the week was forecasted to be warm and humid, with regular afternoon thunderstorms- typical of this time of year in South Carolina. We had done two other similarly distanced backpacking trips with Junie that Spring, so I was confident in her endurance. I was concerned about her ability to manage the heat, though, especially seeing as her black fur absorbs so much heat from the sun. We decided we could hike in the cooler mornings and evenings and take siestas in the hot afternoon if needed.

Day 1- 12 miles

After our commute from Charlotte, we were able to start at the Western Terminus around noon. The climate was hot and muggy, as expected, with dark clouds on the horizon. The entirety of the FHT has plentiful water sources. Just as Junie was starting to pant hard, we came upon a creek that she was able to cool off in. The sky turned a dark grey as storm clouds rolled in and the crack of thunder was loud. We got a brief sprinkling of rain, but the storm eventually passed, its main impact on our day being cooler afternoon temperatures.

We arrived at our campsite, where the trail meets up with the Chattooga River. We had the sandy banks to ourselves and with plenty of daylight left, we took our time setting up camp. We stripped down to our birthday suits and waded into the cool, rushing river. Someone had left a hillbilly fishing rod: just a stick, some line and a hook. Despite our best efforts, no fish were caught. I even made a “fly” out of some burnt corn husk in the fire ring but for unfathomable reasons, the fish weren’t biting. Raphael built a small fire, while I painted the scene before us, and we eventually crawled into our tents after sundown.

A note about our tenting situation: I carry a two person tent that actually fits two people, and Raph carries a two person tent that could never be comfortable with two full grown adults. We could share my tent but it is tight with the dog- plus I am not a fan of sharing that close of quarters. If one of us were to adjust our sleeping position, get up to pee, or have any other interruption in their night, it would wake up the other. So instead we opt for romantic cuddles by the fire, then enjoy a tent to ourselves for the night. Junie sleeps in my tent with her own sleeping pad.

Day 2- 14 miles

Somehow, I was able to convince Raphael to wake up before sunrise in the morning. I knew how pretty the section of trail along the Chattooga would be in the early, golden hours of morning and I wanted to get some miles in before the heat set in. This is one of the few times I have woken up early enough to need my headlight breaking down camp. The first several miles were beautiful, as expected, and we hiked in silence as we waited for our caffeine-deprived brains to wake up. Raph took the lead, with Junie at his heels, and I followed at a slightly slower pace.

After a few hours, I rounded a corner to see Raphael sitting on the side of the trail with a blue can in his hands and a smile across his face. He found trail magic! A kind trail angel named Taz had left a cooler of ice and Pepsi along the trail, with a note for hikers to help themselves and leave their trash in the provided bag. I was so pleasantly surprised to find trail magic on such a secluded trail. I left my painting from the night before in the plastic sleeve with Taz’s note as a thank you.

We continued along and made several comments about how jungle-like the forest was. This had occurred to me during my winter hike, when only the rhododendrons and mountain laurel had their leaves. Now, with the whole forest in bloom we could hardly see the sky, or ground, or 10 feet in any direction. We came to a road crossing with a parking area and picnic tables for lunch. We dove into our food bags while our tents hung out to dry.

The afternoon took us over higher mountains that provided small windows to view Lake Jocassee in the distance. Rain clouds rolled in just as the heat was getting unbearable, and we were graced with a refreshing shower. We finished our day after one of the larger bridges installed over Lower Whitewater Falls. The rushing of water was still audible at our campsite. I painted while Raph built the fire: our routine was forming quickly.

Day 3- 16.2 miles

We opted out of another early wake up call, instead taking our time breaking down camp after the sun had risen. The trail took us through fern-covered land and over many small footbridges. We had met some Westbound thru hikers the day before that recommended we take lunch at Hilliard Falls. The falls were only off trail by .2 mile but I had skipped it when I hiked earlier in the year since the weather was so bad during that section. The recommendation didn’t disappoint. Again, we stripped down and waded into the water, showering in the cold cascade. We sat on the exposed rock and dried out in the sun while we enjoyed our lunch.

From there, the trail turned to long stretches of logging roads. The easy terrain made the hiking even more enjoyable, and we chatted with enthusiasm. A few raindrops began to fall, as was becoming accustom in the afternoons. We hesitate to put on our rain jackets, unsure if it would continue. The skies opened up in a moment, soaking us from head to toe before we could even access our jackets. It stopped almost as soon as it started but we were left with dripping clothes for some time. We had been taking turns “silk-blazing” (walking in front so to clear the spiderwebs that accumulated on trail) and without warning Raphael nearly walked into a massive spiderweb, with an extra-terrestrial looking spider of revolting size. The close call had us nearly to tears.

As the afternoon continued to grace us with sporadic rain, I marveled, yet again, at how jungle-like our surroundings were. Our day ended along the shore of Lake Jocassee. Sticky with sweat from the humid day, we waded into the still water to clean off. It was warm from the sun, and comfortable enough to swim in for a while. We saw a few fishermen putz back and forth on their boats.

Rain started not long after dinner, so we retired to our tents early. Our clothes, still wet from the afternoon showers, were shoved into corners of our wet tents. The humid environment only made it easier to smell how ripe our belongings were becoming.

Day 4- 16.5 miles

In the morning, the trail took us around the shore of Lake Jocassee and over several more elegant footbridges. We soon came to side trail that I knew would lead us to another great lake-access point. We arrived at a sunny shore in time for lunch, and laid out our gear and clothes to dry. We swam leisurely. There was a waterfall near by that was accessible by boat, so pontoons were constantly cruising past us. The starch contrast of this traffic to the seclusion we had been experiencing was almost comical.

*Graphic content in this next paragraph*

As we dried in the sun, I began inspecting my feet, checking for blisters. A small one had began forming on our first day, when I had immediately applied LukoTape (a blister prevention tape that remains practically cemented to your skin through all sorts of hiking) to avoid injury. At this point, I was noticing how wet and soaked that bandage was, and I decided it was time to remove the tape. I pulled at the corner to get a small hold on the tape. I gritted my teeth and whispered to myself “just rip it off like a BandAid”. I yanked. I saw the blood before I felt anything: it gushed out in a red wave, pooling on the rock I sat on. Raph told me later that my vocal reaction was minimal, which I was surprised to hear. The already sensitive skin under the tape had grown soft in the moisture that constantly surrounded it. When the tape came off, a thick layer of skin and callous came with it. For several moments, we stressed over whether or not I would be able to walk. The pain was minimal though. We cleaned the wound, patched it with a small square of gauze, which I affixed with more Lukotape (I understand the irony in this). The ball of my foot was tender but didn’t hinder my walking. I made a point of changing the bandage (pulling of the tape much more gently) and cleaning the spot daily after that.

Relieved that the hike wasn’t too negatively impacted by the accident, we optimistically began packing up for the afternoon. The pattern of afternoon thunderstorms did not break. We had only been dry 20 minutes before the rain started. This time it came in a near-constant downpour, and lasted several hours. Wrapped in my new, and fairly efficient, rain jacket I continued onward. Thunder was consistent but we didn’t feel the need to take shelter as we were tucked low into the valley. The dense forest made us feel almost isolated from the havoc in the skies above. This section of trail weaves along Laurel Creek dense underbrush. Blackberry bushes and ferns densely populate the forest floor, infringing tremendously on the trail. Overall, the FHT is very well maintained. There are elegant bridges over every water source, stairs built into most hills, and even benches built at the occasional mountaintop. The Foothills Trail Conservancy is an active organization with many trail maintenance events a year, so it was truly a testament to the forest’s quick growth that the trail was so overgrown. By the time I made it to camp, my legs looked like I had gotten in a fight with a cat; long, thin scratches from blackberry thorns crisscrossed over my thighs and shins.

We shared our final campsite with a solo female hiker who was out for a few days. The rain stopped in time for dinner and we shared stories of different travels over the fire. As always, Junie sat on guard duty. She fell into the rhythm of hiking and camping quickly. After “securing the perimeter” by sniffing every bush around the campsite, she settled into bed. We followed soon after.

Day 5- 17.1 miles

Our final day on trail came with a bit of relief. As enjoyable as the trip had been, the constant afternoon showers in combination with the heat in humidity was taking its toll. All our gear and clothes were constantly damp, and the smell had grown pungent. Heat rash was flaring up on our backs, where the packs would constantly rub and further irritate the skin. The air was heavy and muggy. I woke to three dead ticks on the floor of my tent. Junie’s tick medicine produces a film on her coat that is toxic to the insect, so they die before they are able to reach her skin. In theory, they aren’t of much danger with the medication, but it was still unnerving to find them in my living space, especially after we had done a thorough tick check the night before. Needless to say, we were ready to return to the comforts and luxuries of our home. I fantasized of a shower while we hiked.

The morning was warm, with clear blue skies in every direction. The trail left the thick brush of Laurel Creek Valley and into hardwood forest. Oaks towered overhead, casting much needed shade across most of the trail. Raphael took advantage of his long stride to pull ahead, Junie not far behind. I continued at my regular pace, wishing that I could achieve his speed with less effort. We found ourselves atop Sassafras Mountain, the highest peak in South Carolina, in time for a mid morning snack. The peak is accessible by road and has 360 degree views, so there were a handful of visitors already there. I struck up conversation with a group of older gentlemen that had ridden up on their motorcycles. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the look of shock on their face when I told them we had walked 60 miles with all our gear to get there. After answering some of their questions about gear, safety, and the trail, we packed up and continued onward.

We enjoyed the last of our food in silence at Lighthouse Campground midday, alongside curious rock formations. Junie made a bed out of leaves, spending more time pawing at the cool earth to make the perfect cushion then she did actually lying in it. The lunch break was quick- there was a warm shower calling our name and we were anxious to finish.

The final section of trail leads into Table Rock State Park and down Pinnacle Mountain. I remembered how steep this area was. In the winter I had hiked Westbound, and the hike up the mountain was slow and grueling. I knew hiking downhill on the same path would be painful on my knees and feet. The trail was slick with mud from all the rain, and blackberry bushes continued to comb my legs with their thorns. I slipped once or twice on the treacherous decent. By the time I reached one of the expansive overlooks, black clouds were creeping in on the horizon. Before long, I was graced with one last torrential downpour. I didn’t even bother with a rain jacket: I was soaked with sweat anyways. I tried to appreciate the cool relief from the heat while avoiding slipping in the mud.

I caught up with Raphael as the trail led us into the more populated area of the state park. We passed families with kids enjoying the swimming holes as we neared the parking lot. We caught sight of what was most likely a copperhead basking in the sun on a rock midstream. At long last, the dirt trail was replaced with wooden boardwalks, and then became a paved trail. The visitor center was in site. We finished the last few hundred yards of trail while weaving through the many park visitors. I was thankful for the urgency of social distancing: at six feet away they were less likely to notice how bad we smelled. We reached the Eastern terminus without much pomp and circumstance, snapping a quick photo of the sign before retreating to a picnic table away from the crowds.

My friend Michael, who I had hiked the FHT with in February and was living in the area, arrived not long after. He had agreed to pick us up and give us a ride back to our car. He greeted us with refreshing beverages and popsicles that were eagerly accepted. We shared our stories and experiences enthusiastically on the hour long drive back to Oconee State Park. Our car held fresh, clean clothes for us, providing a degree of comfort for our ride back to Charlotte. We rewarded ourselves with greasy fast food on the way, then fought over who would get access to the shower first. The comforts of our home were a great relief, and we slept well in our cozy bed that night.

Summary

The Foothills trail has quickly become one of my favorite areas to hike, and even with two thru hikes under my belt I would gladly return to explore the area some more. Having hiked both Eastbound and Westbound, I don’t really have an opinion on which direction is better, though with how beautiful the Westernmost section is along the Chattooga River, I would recommend a Westbound hike just for the sake of finishing there. I specifically chose to hike this trail in the heat of the summer because of the swimming holes, and they did not disappoint. But even with the relief of cool mountain water, the summer temperatures were brutal. Being from this area, I am well acclimated to the heat and humidity, so it wasn’t too much of a burden, but if heat bothers you I would recommend avoiding this trail between May and September. Ticks were frequent (thankfully just wood ticks and not deer ticks), mosquitos were mild, and both can probably be avoided outside of the summer season.

I would highly recommend this trail as a training hike for anyone considering an Appalachian Trail thru hike. The weather is similar and the terrain, while milder, will give you an idea of what to expect. Campsites are plentiful and water is never an issue: we normally just drank water at the water sources and never carried more than half a liter. If our mileage looks ambitious to you, you can do shorter days and hike the trail over 6, 7 or 8 days. Just keep in mind that there are no resupply options along trail, so the longer you are out there the more food you will have to carry. Cell phone service was nonexistent on trail, so I recommend having a Garmin In Reach or similar device if you will want to stay in contact with your family or loved ones. Outside of the state parks, we ran into very few hikers. We only shared a campsite one of the 4 nights.

A video overview of our hike can be found on my YouTube page.

An overview of my winter FHT thru hike can be found in my previous blog post

Follow along with my future adventures on Instagram.

More information on the Foothills Trail can be found on the Foothills Trail Conservancy Website.

Thanks for reading!