I’m not keen on the existing primitive campsite at Fiddler Spring — I saw that it had been cleaned up a lot as I passed by, but there’s no morning or evening sunshine, and it’s on the trail. I bushwhacked my way to Whites Creek, waded across, and then climbed up the ridge until I found a couple of trees I liked the look of to hang my hammock on.

Copyright © 2025 Gary Allman, all rights reserved.