Did you see those beautiful blue-bird skies?
The sparkling waters of this tributary cascade down stair-step bedrock ledges as the water falls off the ridge-line and heads for its rendezvous with the Smith.
Hike along the Smith just about anywhere and you are sure to encounter the ever present gray and white patchy bark of the sycamore as it stretches out over the water, shading the river and making a home for countless insects, birds and other wildlife. Its roots miraculously holding the the bank from spilling into the stream.
We headed upstream, flanked by tall rock outcrops, the river indifferent to our presence as it continued its run to the coast...
This old beech tree spreads its roots out over the crumbly, mossy rocks like an octopus spreading out tentacles; the trees full weight seems to crush the stones underneath.
Perfect excuse ! We got to take the dogs for a walk. Dogs need a walk everyday…and people do too. We are lucky to live within 10 miles of the Gravely Nature Preserve and it is still one of our all time favorite local hikes. We throw on some warm layers, load up the dogs, and head for the woods. Stopping by to pick up our nephew and his dog now we had an outing, 3 dogs and 3 hikers.
We arrived at Gravely, leashed up the dogs and headed for the trail. Another hiker and dog were spotted heading out of the woods and back to the parking area. Gravely is always a pleasure to hike with its easy trails through hardwood forest, river views from the ridge and a variety of flora, each season brings a different experience. Our favorite trail in the Rhododendron trail as it winds down the spur heading toward the river. Curving around the toe of the ridge the river comes into view and beckons you down in to the rich bottom land, the path leading to the canopy-covered section of its namesake tree as it winds along the banks of the Smith.
The rain from the past few days had swelled the river to a perfect level for boating and we spotted Rich Elliot and Amy in kayaks, stopping briefly to say hello. As they paddled out of sight, I was a bit envious of them and wished I too had taken to the river that day, but I’m sure the dogs were happy that we had made the decision to hike instead.
After taking the Burgess loop trail, we spent some time visiting the graveyard on the top of the ridge. This is really a neat place to hang out for a while and think back on what it must have been like here back in the 1800's. Thankfully, we now have this piece of history preserved for future generations to have their own historical and natural experience.
We took a slow round trip down the trails and returned to the parking area, loaded up the dogs and headed out. I took the back way home so we could go across Mitchell Bridge and perhaps catch a glimpse of the kayakers coming down. With two other vehicles already at the pull-off, I squeezed in front of the line and thought about how nice it was going to be when we finally got a much needed access point opened here. Jenn is currently working on the design and funding and it can’t come soon enough. 
Boaters are out there all seasons enjoying the river and if it was this crowed on a cold winter day, just think of the use when warmer weather arrives. I headed out on the bridge to take a look upstream. There were boats coming down the last rapid before the bridge. It was a kayak and a canoe, definitely not Rich and Amy who we had seen earlier in the day in kayaks. I waited as they got close to the bridge then hollered out a greeting. It was none other than our buddy J.B. Frith in the lead kayak. Bringing up the rear in the canoe was local river rat Grant Price who has moved away but had returned for the weekend and taken the opportunity t0 introduce his girlfriend to this beautiful section of the Smith.
It was getting dark as we dragged the boats up the hill to the truck and I was already thinking about a warm fire and a nice cup of hot chocolate. Driving back by Gravely we saw another family,with dog, just getting off the trail.
Article and pictures by: Brian Williams
Next we were treated to it's second defense plan and this one did not hesitate to show us first why it is also nicknamed the "spreading adder."
"They'll leave me alone now...I'm dead...no one wants a dead snake! They should be running away any minute now...I'll just lift up here and take a quick peak."
"Ok, this ain't working either. Just play it cool...keep that mouth open..maybe they'll think I'm a cottonmouth now !"
We really didn't harass the little guy too long, and eventually we all moved on up the trail. (I imagined the hognose meeting another snake later that day and saying..."you won't believe what happened to me. I really got to get a new act.")
I won't even attempt to identify all the varieties represented but there was a wonderful article in the Martinsville Bulletin on the mushrooms at Gravely by Holly Kozelsky with great photos by Mike Wray and some mushroom ID's by Richard Hoffman of the VMNH.
Our group couldn't get enough of the fabulous fungi. We stopped for lots of ‘shroom photo op's.
Further up the trail we encountered one of the many resident box turtles (Terrapene carolina) that call Gravely home.
While not as exciting as the "death display" of the hognose snake, the turtles own defense of "I'll just be in my shell" technique was just as effective.
We hiked through the sun-dappled forest over the Jones Cliff Trail and Burgess Loop then back to the cemetery where Jenn shared the history of the Burgess Plantation.
Monday afternoon (Sept 8) the generation was scheduled to stop at 6 p.m. I headed up to the base of the dam to time the actual flow stoppage and the water drop downstream. They turned the spigot off at 6 p.m. sharp and the water dropped 1 foot in less than 5 minutes.
The fog banks began to arrive in ghostly striated patterns above the receding waters. After 30 minutes of timing water level decrease near the dam, I headed back down the river about a mile to check on the falling waters at the next waypoint.
Watching a couple of trout rise through the mist below, I had to go back to the truck and grab my waders and flyrod. As the sun touched the ridge and the air chilled even more, I coaxed a few browns into feeding. They were not real aggressive on the bite, just sort of stopped the nymph and held on and it was sometimes difficult to tell whether it was a fish or the DIDYMO algae that had your nymph.
The Green headed Coneflowers (Rudbeckia laciniata) seemed to be the predominant yellow wildflower on this section although there were some goldenrod and wingstem as well.
A bumblebee greedily digs into the nectar of the bloom on a White Turtle-head flower (Chelone glabra).
Soon my indicator was disappearing again and another fat brown was on the line.
One more nice brown and I was heading home.
Part 1
At this time of year the bright yellows petals of the Wingstem (Verbesina alternifolia) are standouts along the banks of the Smith.
The deep purples of the Closed Gentian (Gentianaceae Gentiana andrewsii) ....
.....compete for attention with the brilliant reds of the Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis)
Sunday morning arrived warm with still summertime temps, perfect for cooling off in the river. The cool water evaporating into blankets of mist keeps you comfortable, even during the hottest part of the day. I headed out to the special regulation trout section around noon, even though I knew the trout probably would not be hitting till latter in the day, I enjoy just walking up the river and spotting trout as they slink back into the shadows or dart under a rock.
A smaller brown "camoflauged" against a backdrop of DIDYMO algae.
Heading quietly upstream I began to make a few cast and soon encountered perhaps the smallest brown trout I had ever caught on a fly rod. It had to be from the wild population on the Smith because it was even smaller than most of the ones we released from the Trout in the Classroom Program during June. He took a # 18 bead head nymph.
A few more small browns fell to my nymph and I convinced them to hang around just long enough for a few quick photos before I released them, perhaps a little wiser.
Continuing my trek upstream, my eyes were drawn to a vibrant contrast of the black and yellow hanging out in the greens and orange of a stand of Jewelweed (Balsaminaceae Impatiens capensis). A silky trap, beautifully crafted by a writing spider (Argiope aurantia) was attracting its share of the afternoon hatch.
As evening approached, the larger trout were coming out to feed and it wasn't long before I had hooked up with several more "Smith River beauties."
Each one was a little larger than the previous.
