The Trials of Slade
I do relatively little research before I choose a destination. However, some research is mandatory:
- Is the proposed destination approximately 4-6 hours away from my current location?
- Is there a vast expanse of wilderness in which I will likely find safe, free camping?
- Is there a likelihood of finding a coffee shop nearby from which I can work on my laptop for a week with little or no driving?
While in Virginia, I spent a little time searching the Expedition Portal forum, which, as I’m writing this, is probably the largest online community of overland travel enthusiasts. There are well over a decade worth of threads where people share their adventures, and sometimes impart local knowledge of an area.
This time, I was looking for possible destinations in Daniel Boone National Forest, in Kentucky, that matched my mandatory criteria. In the forum, I discovered that a vehicle-supported adventurer, username Jeff@QuadShop, had created a downloadable overland route that circumnavigates a large portion of Kentucky. While this didn’t address my criteria, it did provide very useful data on some of the primitive roads in the area.
Obviously a great source of local knowledge, I sent a message Jeff, asking if he knew of any rural small towns with coffee shops that I might use as a base of operations for a week. He didn’t know specifically, but he listed a few towns for me to research, and among those was one called Slade.
I looked at Slade on the map, and saw that it was near Natural Bridge, and Red River Gorge, within the Daniel Boone National Forest. On the web, I found a coffee shop with wifi, and that sealed the deal!
I was off to Slade, Kentucky!
Finding a Place to Camp
Finding campgrounds isn’t hard. Finding safe, free camping locations is.
As I was driving south through Slade, I passed a rustic-yet-bustling pizza joint named Miguel’s. Out back, there was a pavilion, and a field where a number of ground tents were set up. Curious, I pulled into the parking lot, and discovered that it was a haven for rock-climbers, and that Miguel’s offered camping, for a small fee, for climbers only.
Although I wasn’t there to climb, I continued to investigate, and was directed into their gear shop in a neighboring building. From the outside, it looked like I was entering the basement of the house. On the inside, it looked more like a prosperous outdoor-adventure retail store, complete with a fancy computer-based camper registration system.
The attendant told me it was $3 per night to camp. I was discouraged at first, because if I pay to camp everywhere I go, I’ll run out of money very quickly, but I decided that this was completely affordable. Alright, I’m in!
Then he asked, “Are you here to climb?”
“No,” I replied.
He then politely apologized and informed me that the campsite was for climbers only. As I started to negotiate, two customers, Cody and his wife Timberley (@ad_van_turous_livin on Instagram), chimed in, “You can camp behind the coffee shop! That’s where we’re camped! It costs exactly the same, and it’s open to anyone.”
This was perfect. It was the same coffee shop that I had discovered in my research, and being able to camp where I would do my work during the day is the holy grail of a nomadic lifestyle.
How serendipitous! I thanked Cody and Timberley, and I was on my way to the Daniel Boone Coffee Shop to register and set up camp.
No Shade in Slade
Since I was based at the coffee shop and wouldn’t need to drive anywhere during the week, I went for the full-deployment and set up all of my gear. This included my prized ARB 2500 Awning, which is the cherry-on-top that makes the Jeep feel like home.
As soon as I was finished, I stopped to admire my basecamp, and noticed that the sky had become dark to the west. A storm was coming, so I took all the precautions, sloping the roof of the awning to prevent water from collecting, and staking it down securely using the extra guy lines.
Then the stormfront hit. In a single, strong gust of wind, one of the stakes was violently pulled up from the ground, causing the awning to contort, and bending one of its swing-arms in the shape of a “v.” The rain, which followed in a torrent, hadn’t even started yet!
In a single blow, my beloved ARB 2500 Awning was decommissioned until I could acquire replacement parts.
Copperas Falls
I was in the coffee shop doing work when Cody ambled in.
“Want to go for a hike?” he asked, as he showed me a picture of a very tall, aquamarine waterfall on his phone.
While I might’ve hesitated under normal circumstances, the photo of the spectacular waterfall sealed the deal, and I enthusiastically agreed. I closed my laptop, packed my day-pack with some essentials, and we were off to Red River Gorge in his Dodge camper van.
The road into the Red River Gorge Geological Area was a winding and beautiful lane, lined with rhododendrons and rock formations. Cody carefully maneuvered his van down the scenic road and pulled into a small, nondescript parking area, where we staged for our hike.
Cody lives and breathes rock-climbing. He and Timberley are van-lifers in Slade specifically to be near the rocks on a full-time basis. Subsequently, he thought it’d be really cool to go rappelling off the top of the waterfall at the end of the hike, a 60’ free-hanging descent, so he packed his equipment and I packed my harness which I brought along for good measure.
The hike is roughly 1.5 miles to the waterfall and then back. It was through a lush green, coniferous valley, with countless mossy boulders, a babbling creek, ferns, rhododendrons, and jagged cliffs on either side. It was gorgeous.
The towering 40’ waterfall appeared suddenly after we emerged from a grove of rhododendrons, and it was a stunning aquamarine oasis surrounded by a rocky, coppery-colored amphitheater. Absolutely smitten, I raced around taking pictures as Cody relaxed on some rocks overlooking the falls.
After taking a little break to admire the scenery, Cody readied his rappelling gear and we followed a trail up to the top of the falls, where he set up for our descent.
Both in our harnesses and hooked in, we began our descent side-by-side. I followed his lead, listened to his experience, and with confidence, backed slowly over the edge of the rock keeping the load of my body weight on my rope, and then it happened...
As I crested the pointed edge, which immediately dropped into a free-hang, my shoes very suddenly slipped upward on the wet leaves at the very top of the cliff, causing me to flip upside down, engaging my self-braking descender, and slamming my tailbone into the rock face near 60’ above the jagged rocks below!
With a bruised butt (and and a bruised ego) Cody immediately helped me upright myself, and after a brief systems check, we resumed our incredible descent next to the waterfall. Cody’s experience and cool head made me feel safe even during my little mishap, and I’m very grateful he was there to help!
Sometimes, a butt injury is the price we pay for adventure.
Our hike out was uneventful and just as enjoyable as the way in. The only difference was, I was now considering purchasing a donut pillow at the local pharmacy.
Half Moon and Chimney Rock
The next day, Cody and Timberley approached me with another opportunity for adventure. It was a short hike, also in the Red River Gorge Geological Area, out to a rocky vista called Half Moon, so named because of the moon-shaped arch in the sandstone rock formation.
This hike, roughly a half-mile to the overlook, was at a higher elevation so it was considerably drier than the hike to the falls the day before. As we walked further down the trail, the view on either side became more and more magnificent. The cliffs of the neighboring Chimney Rock protruded out of the woods, and I was astounded by the dramatic, mountainous landscape.
We soon arrived at an outcropping of sandstone requiring a short, low-difficulty climb to the top of a rocky plateau. At the foot of the rock face, we met Sabrina (@sabrinamusick12 on Instagram), a lovely young woman out for a solo hike whom we immediately befriended, and who joined us on our ascent.
After a little bit of rock scrambling, we reached the top of Half Moon, offering a 270 degree view of the Red River Gorge and the neighboring Chimney Rock, which was bustling with tourists. There we relaxed, and soaked in the splendor.
Timberley set up a hammock, while Cody, once again, set up for some rappelling. I opted out this time around as I was still a little sore from the day before, but Sabrina was happy to embrace the adventure and joined Cody for an 80’ descent down the rock face.
New friends, stunning views, and adventure. If there was something that I was seeking on my journey to satisfy my wanderlust, it was moments just like this one.
Internet Outage and Onward
Unfortunately, the Daniel Boone Coffee Shop, which I had called my base of operations, put up signs announcing an Internet outage “until further notice,” as they were in the process of upgrading their access.
I reluctantly had to move on a few days earlier than planned, to seek out Internet access, so that I could resume working to financially sustain my journey.
Slade consisted of numerous trials: finding a place to camp, a busted awning, a bruised coccyx, an Internet outage. However, the experiences that offset these difficulties were so memorable and profound. My new friends, Cody and Timberley, shared the unpaved places; the unmarked, best-kept-secrets that were hidden and unspoiled by tourists.
If you visit Slade, in the Daniel Boone National Forest, and I highly recommend that you do, seek out Cody and Timberley in their white Dodge camper van, probably parked behind the Daniel Boone Coffee Shop, and I guarantee you will experience some of the best, most memorable adventures in your life.