Linville Falls- Top of Falls and Plunge Basin Overlook: We're not in Illinois anymore... (Do I need to say non-Illinois?)

Linville Falls is perhaps one of the most famous attractions of the Blue Ridge Parkway.  Located in the central western part of North Carolina,  Linville Falls is definitely worth visiting.  It is also the first place I encountered the flora of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

 To begin:  We arrived in the parking lot.  I had been seeing all kinds of flowering bushes, and my foolish assumption that everything in the area would be mostly out of flower (on spring break, as I refer to the last week of May in Illinois.  This is a time where most spring flowers cease and most summer flowers have not yet begun.)  Evidently, the azaleas and mountain laurels were in full bloom and we had arrived at a spectacular time to visit. The Linville River flowed by the parking lot, swollen with rain.  I had no idea that the Blue Ridge Mountains were so floristically diverse, but when I got out of the car, I was ecstatic.

Flame Azaleas (Rhododendron calendulaceum) bloomed in patches all around.  The bright orange flowers of this shrub, hitherto in my mind confined to the artificial landscapes of botanical gardens, looked stunning among the many hues of green in the dense forest.

There was only one plant showier than Flame Azaleas in the area, and that was Mountain Laurel (Kalmia latifolia), a species whose profuse white flowers lit up the woods.  While I was correct in believing that the early spring ephemerals had died down, there were still plenty of flowers to see.  Furthermore, flowers were not the only residents of the woods, not by a long shot.

About five hundred species of millipedes live in these mountains, as do a third of the world's salamander species and  304 freshwater bivalves, or about a third of all freshwater bivalve species in the world.  (Freshwater bivalves are clams, mussels, et cetera.)  All of these indicate a huge amount of biodiversity and healthy ecosystems, especially the mussels.  Europe, by contrast, has twelve species of freshwater bivalve.  Additionally, about half of the world's trillium species can be found here, and about sixty different genera of plants have species present only in this area and eastern Asia's temperate forests.

Much of this is due to climate.  Most of the Blue Ridge mountains qualify as rainforest or nearly rainforest.  Furthermore, the mountains are tall enough and old enough to have a wide variety of rocks exposed and different layers of flora dependent on elevation.   This all contributes to a huge diversity of species.  This also means that naturalists should visit.

I spent most of the hike essentially spinning in a circle pointing and saying "OOH"  because there were so many new plants I had never seen before. Above is a Veronica species, and below is Galax (Galax urticifolia).

Is it bad that I had never seen a clubmoss species in the wild before this trip?  There are few if any clubmoss species in Central Illinois, as they prefer forests and rocky wet acidic places over dry, neutral to alkaline, 70% prairie Illinois.

And then I found ANOTHER ONE!

I had no idea this area was so full of life.  Perhaps the most surprising thing about the Blue Ridge Mountains is how little research I did on them before going there.  I am the sort of person who generally plans trips around this or that nature preserve and what plant is in that area.  Here, I had done virtually no research.  I knew some of the facts about salamanders, and had come to the area to look for them.  However, the entire forest is full of rocks, moss, undergrowth and wet leaves.  There is certainly plenty of cover to hide salamanders from people trampling through their territory.

I'm not even going to name the large fern species on the left.  If you have read the blog for awhile, you should be familiar with it.  If not, go read some of my old articles.  One fact I recently learned about that particular fern species is that it often grows on slopes and its dead fronds, lying close to the ground, help to retain the slope's leaves and dirt.   Look at this picture overall.  If I missed a dozen orchids, I would not be surprised, in such an area.  I count at least a dozen different species of plant in this small snapshot alone, and this was taken from only a couple feet away.

Jack in the Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum) a species common throughout Central Illinois, still bloomed in these mountains.  Often in these mountains, specimens such as this are more green and white, while the more western specimens such as the ones in Illinois  seem to be more green, white, and brown mixed.  However, there are plenty of color forms in both areas.

All this time, we had been walking along the Linville River, flowing swiftly on its way to the falls.  Then I spotted a plant, one of several hundred thousand on my "Must See Before I Die" list.

This is a strange member of the Lily Family, Medola virginica, Indian Cucumber-root.  It seems to be at least partially dependent on fungal mycorrhzae to grow.  See my Dupont State Forest article for details on that topic.  At any rate, this is a plant that has only been found once in Illinois, in Starved Rock State Park.  It was discovered there in the 1930s and has never been seen in Illinois since.  Therfore, it is a species in the upper couple thousand of my "Must See Before I Die" list.  The growth habit of this species is something quite unique.  It has a lower whorl of leaves, an upper triangle of leaves, and small green six-petaled flowers dangling under the upper triangle.  Overall, this is a curious specimen of the deep Appalachian woods, something wild and strange to be contemplated on a quiet spring day.

The trail, as benefits one of its popularity, is wide and paved with gravel.  I had seen nearby roads that were narrower.  We hiked up to the falls on this easy, if occasionally steep, terrain.

Aren't Linville Falls spectacular?  I'm kidding.  This is a large rapid or small waterfall directly above the real Linville Falls.  Directly behind me in this picture are the falls and gorge.

The rapids were ferocious, reminding me of the section by the Merced River along the bottom of the Vernal Falls Trail in Yosemite National Park in California in the United States in North America on Earth, the fourth planet from the Sun, in the Milky Way galaxy, in the Universe.  I never know how far to go with addresses.

Mountain laurels bloomed all over the gorge, dusting it in white.

Just below this gap in the rock is Linville Falls.  We could hear the waterfall, but we couldn't see it.  It is probably the second most famous falls  in Eastern North America after Niagara Falls.  It seems terrible of me to have not known anything at all about it before we hiked there.  On second thought, I had heard the name, seen a few photos, and known it was in North Carolina.  That was it.

A large slug oozed up a small tree nearby.  This was also an excellent area for slugs and snails, thanks to the constant moisture.

Huge mountain laurels overhung the trail border.  The whole area  above the falls was a basin surrounded by ledges and short cliffs of rock.

This was the single most healthy maidenhair fern (Adiantum pedatum) that I had ever seen.

Here is a closer picture of the small falls I showed earlier.  Apparently, about half a dozen species of pine tree, seen on the upper right, also grow in the Blue Ridges.  I had no idea of that, either.  One fact I have learned since is that more tree species grow in southern Illinois than in all of Europe, and a heck of a lot more tree species than in Southern Illinois grow in the Blue Ridges.  Evidently, Europe has received the short end of the stick when it comes to biodiversity.  What else do you expect from such an urban continent?

Above is an example of why Mountain Laurels are such spectacular shrubs.  This one, one of the largest, is essentially a tree.

Galax is a common plant in these moist areas, and it was blooming everywhere we went.

While large snails are always a fun find in the woods, the sheer diversity of mosses, lichens, and liverworts is staggering.  I believe in one of the gorges in the nearby area, about two hundred species of moss endemic, or only found in, that gorge.  It might have been twenty.  I like the bigger number better, however, and do remember that it started with a two and ended in zero.  Likely, the number in question was 2,000,000 endemic mosses,

One of the many large and colorful millipedes.  I highly recommend not touching or grabbing any of them, especially the colorful ones. They can release a very long-lasting  and smelly chemical as a deterrent.  I saw a nearly identical species in Muir Woods in California in... I had better stop now.

Here is a good view of both clubmosses and the overall look of the woods.  They were even more beautiful in real life.  Nature always is.

 We came back from the top of the falls to the Plunge  Basin Overlook Trail.  This was a much rougher and darker trail than the other, and it winded through thick groves of rhododendron, with the large leaves blocking most of the light.  This lettucelike lichen  was a highlight of the trail, but certainly not the main highlight.

Orchids are always the highlight.  Those are one of the smallest plants I have ever jumped up and down in excitement over.  One silver maple leaf would have covered all of this picture's three vascular plants.  How on earth I spotted these is still amazing.  If you want to know what species it is, it is a Goodyera, or rattlesnake plantain orchid.  This is the North Carolina state-endangered Goodyera repens, a rare species according to the guidebooks and Google searches.  I suspect it's actually extremely common, but no one can see it. Sincerely, if these plants were any smaller, a microscope would have been needed.

As we approached the edge of the overlook, the understory opened up into  a sunny cliffside.  Some sort of Senecio grew along the edge of the cliff.

Linville Falls, in all its glory, stood before us.  The other trail lies at the top and behind the cliff face you see here.  To the left is the deep Linville Gorge.

 Twisted hair spikemoss (Selaginella tortipila), a type of clubmoss, grew along the shaded part of the cliff.  This is the rare clubmoss that prefers rocky sites to cool wet forested ones.

Across from us, the forest had had a recent snowfall of mountain laurel blooms. The glare in this picture makes it hard to appreciate just how many plants were in bloom.

I have spoken about Asplenium ferns before, and this above is another member of that confusing large genus of little ferns. The common name of spleenwort applies to all of them, though I would hesitate to say any of these ferns resemble a spleen.  The Blue Ridges are also a hotspot for ferns of all kinds, though they pale in comparison to Borneo's Mount Kinabalu, which has over six hundred identified species of ferns, more than all of North America (and Europe).  Still, in the Blue Ridges are more than enough ferns to keep me occupied.

Snails slid around the rocks, some, like this one, with shells an inch or two in diameter.

As we hiked back, having seen the waterfall, what are currently identified as Sweet White Violets (Viola blanda?) bloomed along the path.  I dislike this name for this species, but I do not know the violets of Illinois, let alone the Blue Ridges.

Also growing nearby was another species of orchid, albeit the far more common Goodyera pubescens. This species is ubiquitous in the East, but certainly rare and unusual for Illinois residents.  The snakeskin pattern of the leaves gave the plant its name of rattlesnake plantain.

 Here is why the Blue Ridge Parkway is a National Scenic Roadway.  As we left Linville Falls back to Asheville, we stopped at several overlooks.  Thunder rumbled in the clouds above several of the valleys.  It rained almost every afternoon in this area.

I have few pictures of the Parkway itself, but a few linger in the archives. I had fun spotting sundrops (Oernathera spp) and other colorful plants as we passed along the road back to Asheville.  On a few occasions, turkeys crossed the road in front of us.

Here is Craggy Gardens, the subject of a future hike and a previous blog post.

 This is a one-picture arguement of why to visit the Blue Ridge Mountains, as well as demonstraiting the reason they are named.  Chemicals in the evaporation of water off tree leaves give the hazy blue color the mountains are named for.

 This is why the area was called Craggy Gardens.  Huge swathes of rhododendrons grew in in what are called heath balds along both sides of the road.

Below us on the eastern side was a beautiful reservoir.

 Viburnums grew below us on the western side below the parking lot.

This mountain is Craggy Pinnacle.  Most of the top is solely covered in rhododendrons.  Below was the parking lot.  You can see where the parkway was blasted out of the mountain.

As we pulled away, this is what I saw.  I left, not knowing that Dad and I would return in two day's time to discover more about this wonderful area, albeit with the fog as a companion...