Fort Harry

Growing up in Knoxville, I spent a fair portion of my formative years exploring the nooks and crannies of the Park. Doing so, it was inevitable that we'd find places just slightly off the road or off an established trail that would serve as a nice spot to share a picnic and a bottle of wine with friends, but far enough away from the crowds to get the feeling of wildness.

One particular favorite was just off Newfound Gap Road near the Chimneys. A pull off on the left (LeConte) side of the road has no established trail, though there may have been a nature trail here many years ago. This may be the site of old Fort Harry - a Civil War stockade built by the Confederates to defend the saltpeter mine at Alum Cave.

In wintertime, you can see a prominent cliff face above a jumble of large talus blocks. That is your destination. Getting through the boulder field is nice adventure in its own right. You can take the high road and try and hop from one to another or wind your way between them. Notice the huge trees; basswood, hickories, and ailing hemlocks that somehow found space to grow in this train wreck of massive rocks. There is a path after the boulder field that climbs along a steep creek. Above you, the grandeur of cliff you saw from below takes shape. It appears as an immense expanse of grey brown that almost looks like a winter sky behind the trees.

At the top, the sandstone cliff face is worn smooth and is concave out, leaving a nice dry overhang to sit, reflect, and watch a thin veil of a waterfall leap from above. After prolongued periods of below freezing weather (that were more common back in the 70s and early 80s when I visited most often) that small falls creates an icicle of monstrous proprtions. Ice from the falls' spray can coat everything around it in a crystalline state of a permanent ice storm. In summer the falls can slow into a thin veil, where a companion and I once swore that we could see individual drops collide in air. OK, so we were more than just a little inebriated.

I cannot speak of this place without experiencing a flood of images of my youth. Smiles, shouts, faces of people now gone both from my life and from this Earth, and unending conversations that remain protected in the mist and among the rampart of Fort Harry.