Common sense isn't.
OpenStreetMap of area of route
from Route 116 to Big Fodderstack Mountain, the
Morgan County High Point.
The dirt road on this (south) side of Armes Gap was open and well maintained, probably for access to the
new-looking gas well, which was at the end of the road, after a short side-trip to the left fork in the road.
6035IN CASE OF EMERGENCY
CONTACT:
Tenn. Division of Gas & Oil (now at archive, 2006)
615-532-0166
Taking the right fork, the road eventually passes the boundary of Frozen Head State Park, and enters private property.
The boundary is marked by orange stakes on each side of the road, and orange paint on rocks.
In a couple places the road is steep and rough.
The road flattens out along an old strip mine. This was a short distance beyond where we eventually parked.
This large pile of wood was just past where we parked.
The road/trail could be traveled by ATVs and (aggressive) four-wheelers, but we walked from here.
There are several quite steep and rough sections.
Ponds often form in old strip mining locations. This one was close to where we parked.
The route had minor obstacles in some places. More clear routes may exist elsewhere.
Flowers grow almost anywhere.
Reaching Wagon Rock gives false hope of being near the top of Big Fodderstack.
Up and up, steeper and steeper, false top after false top...
There has to be a better route, but we didn't find it.
Finally, the real top is near.
The trail becomes flatter.
Although the top is mostly covered with and surrounded by brush and trees, there are a few places to see views. This is looking
west towards Brushy Mountain Prison and Petros.
At the top there is a small open area with a small fireplace and some wood.
This radio tower appeared to be a recent replacement.
With some effort a relatively clear view of the windmills can be found to the east.
On the way down we saw this rock with lines in a rectangular pattern on the bottom.
Finally, back down to the parking spot.
| Quote of the moment |
| Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form. |
| ~ Herman Melville (1819–1891), U.S. author. Moby-Dick (1851), ch. 41, The Writings of Herman Melville, vol. 6, eds. Harrison Hayford, Hershel Parker, and G. Thomas Tanselle (1988). ~ |
Common sense isn't.
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