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Cumberland Gap National Historical Park *Day 2-Martin's Fork Campsite to Gibson Gap* March 20, 2004 Cumberland Gap Home Page Day 1-To Martins Fork Day 3-To the Pinnacle Photo Gallery Cumberland Gap Day Hike to Skylight Cave
The Fields of Hensley Settlement
Z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind the sound of a saw resonated. I forced myself into consciousness opening one eye and then the other. Z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z, I grabbed my watch, it was about 7:15 a.m. A quick glance indicated that John had one eye open too, We were not quite ready to greet the new day, but eased out of our sleeping bags anyway. Oh for just five more minutes of sleep..... By 7:30 a.m. everyone was stirring. The air filled with sounds of humming stoves, clinking pots and chatter as the morning ritual of preparing breakfast and the day's water and snacks commenced. Early risers Steve and Bill had been busy with their saw, the wood pile had grown and a fire crackled in the fire ring. I was pretty excited to get started on the day's hiking as we had some interesting sites to visit on our journey to Gibson Gap. John and I set about tearing down our camp area and as we collapsed the tent he commented on the low humidity noting that the tent had absolutely no condensation. He was pleased at the prospect of not being weighed down by a moisture laden tent, an unusual occurrence when camping in the southeast. We were hiking by 9:05 a.m. Bill said his goodbyes at the Ridge Trail junction and we parted company. Bill turned left heading back to his car while the rest of the group turned right toward Hensley Settlement. The .6-mile hike to the settlement clicked off quickly as we continued to marvel at the wide grassy lane under our feet. Around .3-miles we passed Chadwell Gap, our original campsite choice. The campsite is exposed on the ridge but very nice. The downside is the walk to water, 1-mile roundtrip to Martin's Fork or 1-mile roundtrip to the pump in Hensley Settlement. We arrived in the outskirts of Hensley Settlement having bypassed Hensley Campsite with hardly a glance. In our opinion the only thing Hensley campsite had to offer was a proximity to water; it is otherwise a big horse camp and off our camping radar. Bert Hensley's Farm (now seasonal volunteer housing)
A rudimentary wooden map at the entrance to the settlement caused us to pause and discuss our route. The Ridge Trail merges with the old farm road running through the "center" of the settlement and exits left at the back of the settlement. Hensley Settlement began as leased property dating back to 1845 when the land was granted to C. and R. M. Bales. About 5 years prior to the Hensley's purchase of the land, the property was cleared, fenced and farmed. Burton Hensley, Sr. purchased the property in May 1903 and it became known as Hensley Settlement. The senior Hensley subdivided the property into 16 tracts and deeded it to members of his family. One of the first families to move to the mountain was Sherman Hensley, who arrived with his family in December 1903. He was also the last to leave in 1951. During the 48 years of the settlement's inhabitance, electricity was never available and paved roads were never constructed. All buildings were made of logs and chinked with mud. The reason proposed for the demise of the settlement was the availability of good money in the coal mines in the surrounding area. You can read more about Hensley Settlement in a book titled "Hensley Settlement, A Mountain Community" written by William E. Cox and available at the Cumberland Gap Visitors Center. A number of buildings remain standing including the Park Hensley house, Bert Hensley farm, Finley Hensley farm, Brush Mountain school house, Hensley cemetery, Lige Gibbons farm and Willie Gibbons Farm. Summer volunteers live in several cabins and do tours. During our visit nothing much was open, only a couple of outhouse and outbuildings. The barns, homes and school house were locked tight. We strolled and explored, stopping by most home sites to walk around the property, peak in the windows and pull on door handles to see if we could go inside for a closer look...mostly we couldn't. Schoolhouse
We made our way past home sites, the cemetery and the schoolhouse. We commented on the absence of a church (we assume it must have come to some demise), the interesting pattern of the split rail fences and how several of the outhouses were located near the creek. We reached the end of the settlement too soon although we had actually spent over an hour meandering along the .8-mile settlement. Barbara Allen found the Ridge Trail turn-off on the side road by Willie Gibbons farm and we were quickly back in the forest. We regrouped for lunch at Indian Rock, about .5-miles beyond the settlement. With 5.1-miles to hike before we stopped for the night, we settled into what had become our hiking format, Steve and Ron in front, John and I next, Barbara, Diane and Lucy with Will bringing up the rear. We forged our way up the steep sections while hoping our thighs and knees would hold us up on the downhill side. Magnificent views of the valley were always with us on the left while forest and distant mountains lined the right side of the trail. Sometimes we went over the tops of the mountains, sometimes we skirted to the side. We were never bored as another incredible vista or mountain challenge was always around the next bend. Several of the climbs surprised us, we would go up and up and just as we reached what appeared to be a plateau, the trail would wind right and up we went again and again and sometime again! We had several people encounters on this day. The first group consisted of 8 guys who were hiking the trail from the opposite direction and had stayed at Gibson Gap last night. We asked them about water and were assured that it was readily available about 5-6 minutes beyond the campsite. The next group had at least 12 horses and riders. The rule when hiker meets horse is the hiker must step off the trail, preferably on the downhill side of the mountain and allow the horse to pass. This "rule" has it pitfalls especially when the downhill side is a steep drop as it was in this case. To further complicate the matter, the last horses were quite skittish! I questioned how far we would be required to drop to become "invisible, " Then I began to wonder why we were hanging off the side of the mountain in the first place. This coupled with the fact that we would be dodging horse poop until we reached Gibson Gap had me pondering a rewrite to the hiker-horse manual; a rewrite that would not involve dropping off the side of any mountain. Oh well, knowing the horses would soon encounter Lucy, the 100 pound hyperactive lab brought a smile to my face! Lunch at Indian Rock (from left Barbara, Steve, John)
The last group we passed was either a father-son outing or Boy Scout troop. These guys had come up the very steep Gibson Gap trail and were headed for Martins Fork campsite. The young guys looked hot, exhausted and pale and they still had 6-7 miles to go. Counting the 8 guys in front of them, the Martins Fork campsite would be hosting about 20 people on this night. Depending on how many tents were involved, things would be a bit crowded on the front lawn. Lucky us for hiking in the reverse direction! We reached Gibson Gap by 4:00 p.m. This was at best an average campsite, actually a dirty and definitely well-worn site. It had no views and was on a slight slope. It did have an outhouse but none of us had the nerve to use it. Storm clouds were gathering and I heard a clap of thunder as I waited for John to survey potential campsites. We scurried to set up the tent before the rain blew in. John left for water and I started unpacking. He returned just in time to throw our packs in a large plastic bag, toss them into the tent's vestibule and dive in the tent just as the rain hit. Actually he got a bit wet as he dove in head first. . The rain hit hard! Through our tent window we could see the trees swaying back and forth. Wind roared through the gap, at one point snapping against our tent so loud we jumped. We were sure our tent had been hit by a branch or small tree. The rain lasted for about an hour during which time Ron came down from his campsite (on a rock ledge) with "tent fever." He somehow convinced John to get out of the tent and, in the torrential rain, they set up our tarp. Also suffering from "tent fever," Steve appeared toward the end of the storm and started a fire. As the wind and rain died down, the rest of us crawled out to fix dinner. John and I enjoyed Knorrs Pesto Pasta and a cup of Big Train spiced decaf chai. After a day like ours, carbo loading was high on our eating agenda. By the time everyone finished dinner, we had a big fire going. Steve called it a "white man's fire, " I called it much too big for the wilderness. For another hour we chatted and enjoyed the fire's warmth. Then, without warning, the rain hit again and it hit hard. In the tent for the 2nd time, John and I could see the shadow of the fire on our tent walls. I looked out of the window and was amazed to see the flames growing taller with the wind gusts even as the rain pelted down. Bright orange coals lifted by the gusting wind, shot out of the fire ring and into the campsite. We had an incredible fireworks display and it didn't let up for what seemed to be forever. I was grateful the heavy rain had soaked the ground but still uncomfortable with what I was witnessing. I could imagine what would happen if we were in dry conditions with the wind we were experiencing. On the other hand, if we were experiencing this kind of wind in dry conditions, we wouldn't have had a fire (I hope)! I checked on the fire off and on for about 2 hours. The fire finally died to a bright orange glow and the embers no longer sputtered from the fire ring. Now I could go to sleep.
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