My quest to hike the Top 20 trails in the Smoky Mountains continued on Thursday with a trip up the side of Mount LeConte, the third tallest peak in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. 

Tale of the Tape – Mount LeConte:

Elevation at Summit – 6,593 feet

Starting location – Alum Cave Trailhead

Total Elevation Gain – 2,763 feet

Average Elevation Gain/Mile – 500 feet

Level of Difficulty: Strenuous, overall; more specifically, Trailhead to Arch Rock – 2; Arch Rock to Alum Cave – 4; Alum Cave to Summit – 7 (add 1 to those numbers in winter/icy conditions)

Roundtrip Length – 11 miles

Side trips near summit to Cliff Top and Myrtle Point – 1.1 miles

Total miles hiked – 12.1 

Getting There:

The Alum Cave Trailhead is located 8.7 miles south of the Sugarlands Visitor Center (near Gatlinburg), along Newfound Gap Road. The parking lot is on the left, although you may have to park along the road due to the popularity of this hike, especially during peak tourist season and on weekends.

Bottom-Line Up Front:

This is a spectacular hike! Nowhere else in the Smokies will you find the combination of stunning vistas, flora & fauna, a challenging (but reasonable) climb, a flowing river, interesting geological features, history, and a historic lodge and shelter near the summit. I hope to do 18 more hikes in this series, but I doubt I will find one that surpasses the overall experience climbing Mount LeConte.

July 9, 2020:

After a 1-hour drive from my home in Maryville, I parked my car along Newfound Gap Road, across from the already full Alum Cave Trailhead parking lot. In response to a lecture from my VA doc earlier this week on skin care (melanoma runs in the family), I sprayed on some SPF-30 and then coated that with a layer of DEET. With that pungent combination of chemicals on me, it was unlikely anyone would violate my 6-foot COVID protection zone. 

After a quick glance at the trail map, I stepped on the trail at 8:27 a.m. Right from the start, you can’t help but fall in love with this trail. For you parents with kids, elderly, or disabled, the first mile of this trail is a soft gentle slope that runs along the gorgeous Alum Cave Creek. The inner kid in me kept finding perfect spots for walking the creek, soaking my feet, having a picnic, or just hanging out. Along the way, there were several neat footbridges, with cables to hold on to as you cross. If you can’t do the 1.3 miles (2.6 round trip) to Arch Rock, do a mile. If you can’t do a mile, do whatever you can. Some trails make you work to get to “the good stuff.” This hike starts delivering the good stuff within the first few steps.

After 1.3 miles and about 30 minutes, I reached Arch Rock, a giant rock that has eroded from many years of freezing and thawing. That erosion has left a hole in the center of the rock, and the trail takes you through the hole via a winding staircase! As you exit Arch Rock and the rhododendrons that surround it, you will be in Narnia! Not really, but you will say goodbye to Alum Cave Creek. However, there are smaller trickles of water that flow off the mountain at various points throughout the hike, and a water pump at LeConte Lodge, so water is plentiful.

From Arch Rock, the trail picks up a little intensity but is by no means difficult. I continued passing individuals, families, and small groups—97 people in all, during my ascent. (Yes, I kept count. Why? Because I’m a total nerd and must always have some sort of data to process. Don’t judge.) The payout for continuing along this stretch is that you begin to catch some panoramic views—specifically, the Anakeesta Ridge off to the left. The other thing I noticed was that I was sweating profusely. Seriously, I know a lot hikers—and none of them can out-sweat me. Not even 2 miles into the hike, my shirt and shorts were drenched and drops of sweat mixed with DEET and SPF-30 were flowing into my eyeballs, causing irritation and blurred vision. Not cool!

At Inspiration Point, I stopped to view the sweeping vistas and take a few pics. I also overhead a woman hiker tell a friend to take a few steps along an opening in the branches to the left at the far end of the Point and then look down. I followed suit and discovered one of the scariest drop-offs I’ve ever seen. (If you do this, be sure to take 3 steps and not 4!) 

After a mile and 30 minutes from Arch Rock, I reached the next major milestone: Alum Cave. It’s not actually a cave so don’t get your hopes up. Instead, it’s a 500-foot long, 80-foot high, concaved bluff. Over the past 200 years, the bluff has been used for mining Epsom salt (to dye homespun clothing a reddish brown) and saltpeter (used by the Confederate Army to make gunpowder.) Depending on the time of the year you visit the “Cave,” you’ll be met with either trickles of water from the top of the bluff, or skull-piercing icicles. I found a nice, isolated spot in the shade of the bluff, next to a trickle splash zone, for a 10-minute break…where I consumed a Nature Valley Granola Bar and the first of 7 liters of water/Gatorade.

Sadly, most folks end their hike at Alum Cave. But if you’ve got the time and ability to continue on, continue on. This third and final section, from the Cave to the summit, covers about 3.2 miles and takes about 95 minutes, depending, as always, on your pace and number of stops for pictures. This final section is more demanding, featuring plenty of steps carved in stone or hand-made. At various points, typically near narrow jagged rocks next to drop-offs, there are cable handrails to assist hikers. I suppose they would be helpful in icy conditions, but they were unnecessary on the day of my hike. There are certainly narrow sections with sheer drop-offs where I wouldn’t let children run freely, but nothing too dangerous if you pay attention. Any trail can be dangerous if you’re stupid.

As I approached LeConte Lodge, the trail flattened and I found myself surrounded by a dense spruce-fir forest. The slight breeze and cool temperature (68 degrees, roughly 23 degrees cooler than in the valley below) invigorated my wet skin with a tingling sensation like when you rub Noxzema all over your body. It reminded me of some of the alpine ridges I encountered in Maine and elsewhere on the Appalachian Trail.

At 11 a.m., I arrived at the historic and rustic LeConte Lodge. Nothing opened until noon, so I found a spot on a picnic table behind the Dining Hall to devour a PB & J and some Cape Cod sweet & spicy jalapeno-flavored chips. As I ate, a middle-aged woman exited the back of the building carrying a white bundle of linens. We exchanged greetings as she placed the bundle in a compartment under the building.

“So that’s where you hide the dead bodies?” I commented.

She smiled and replied, “You’ve got to keep that a secret. How did you know?”

“I know a dead body when I see one.”

“You sound like a funeral director.”

“No, but I’ve watched The Walking Dead.”

“Well, oddly enough, I happen to be a funeral director.”

She spoke those words just as I put the last big bite of PB & J in my mouth. As I slowly chewed, my brain was spinning. I know a good story when I hear one, and this one had potential. I mean, how does a funeral director end up at a lodge atop a mountain, doing laundry at 6400 feet? Just as I washed down the peanut butter and began to ask that question, she ducked back into the Dining Hall and I never saw her again. I guess you’ll have to make up your own plot for that story!

Recharged, I put my pack back on and continued the short hike to the summit, passing the LeConte shelter along the way. The shelter looks very similar to the many AT shelters I’ve seen and slept in, and offers a cheaper and even more rustic alternative than staying at the Lodge. Due to the virus, they are allowing, even encouraging, those with shelter reservations to tent nearby.

I briefly stopped at the Mount LeConte summit to snap a photo of the large rock cairn. There are no views at the summit, but if you continue on another .5 miles from the shelter (.7 from the Lodge) you reach Myrtle Point, which would offer the best views of the day, even with some clouds shifting about. Oddly, I had the Point to myself, so I sat on a rock, took in the nearly 360-degree views, and prayed. 

On my way back to the Lodge from Myrtle Point, I did a .5-mile loop that took me to another outcropping and viewpoint known as Cliff Top. Unfortunately, by the time I reached it, I was inside a cloud and my only view was of a squirrel having lunch. On my way back to the Lodge, I spotted a beautiful fawn off to the right, munching on grass and watching me closely.

Back at the Lodge, I made my way to the office, donned my mask, and went inside to buy a Gatorade packet and t-shirt. Normally, there would be tables set up for people to hang out, play games, and visit, but COVID-19 sadly put an end to all that, at least for now. Instead, people were spread out on the grounds/benches across the sprawling compound, with a lot less mingling going on than I would guess is typical at this place. 

Next stop was the Dining Room which was also cleared of tables and benches due to the virus. Fortunately, they were still making their famous homemade cookies, so I bought one and ate it outside as three squirrels threatened to take it from me. The cookie alone was worth the 32,337 steps I took that day. Sack lunches are also available.

Before moving on from the Lodge, a quick shout out to Paul Adams, an explorer who took dignitaries to the top of Mount LeConte to help convince them on the idea of a national park. He later built a cabin atop the mountain (which would eventually be transformed into the Lodge) and helped forge the trail up the mountain. Good work, Paul!

At 1 p.m., with thunder clouds booming nearby, I decide to begin my descent. Twenty minutes later, a light, refreshing rain began to fall and lasted for about 30 minutes. Just prior to reaching Alum Cave, I approached three young ladies in their late-teens/early-twenties staring at something on the side of the trail.

“What are you looking at?” I asked.

“I say it’s a mouse but she thinks it’s a rat,” one of them replied.

I drew closer and examined the rodent. “I’m afraid you’re both wrong. That’s a mole.” 

“A mole! Seriously?”

“Yep, I’m quite familiar with them. One of them slept under my air mattress at a lodge in Maine a few years ago.”
“Really? Wow!”

Noticing how impressed they were with my mole knowledge, I continued.

“These guys are blind.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, watch this.” I moved my hand closer to the mole and waved it but the mole didn’t react. “See.”

“Wow!”

Okay, technically moles are colorblind, not blind, although they see poorly. All I know is that at 54 years of age, there are few things I can say or do to impress young hikers. Apparently mole swag is one of them.

After a few more pictures and miles, I reached the trailhead at 3:15 p.m. and began the journey home.

Verdict and Recommendations:

An outstanding hike, with a little something for everyone. Be sure to check out photos from this hike in an album on my “Author Steve Johnson” Facebook page. You can also check out Benny Braden’s excellent video tour of the hike at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=piTbs37qzco.

If you have the money, and want to split the 11-12 miles of hiking in half, stay overnight at the Lodge. You’ll need to book a cabin well in advance—2020 spots are all full, as are the waiting lists. Lodge rates and other pertinent info are available at http://www.lecontelodge.com. (Also, FYI, a longer, but easier hike to the Lodge is via the Trillium Gap trail (6.7 miles), the less steep route the llamas use to resupply the Lodge three times each week.)

For a cheaper and more rustic experience, I would suggest tent camping near the shelter, which has bear cables. To do that, you’ll need a backcountry permit, available at https://smokiespermits.nps.gov/index.cfm?BCPermitTypeID=1

Or, do the hike all in one day, and then pop some Ibuprofen.

Before my next hike, I plan to study moles in more detail. Did you know they use movement and scent sensors on the tip of their noses to find prey and other moles? Now you do.