After a week of record snowfall and sub-zero temps, I knew Red River Gorge would be primed for some winter hiking. This part of Kentucky got a thick layer of ice and snow from winter storm Fern.

Trees were encased in glistening sheets of ice that shattered in the wind and sun, sounding like tinkling bells. Pine trees were bowed over everywhere, weighed down by ice that wouldn’t be melting soon.

Koomer Ridge was open so I decided to visit Hansons Point and then come back through Pinch Em Tight Gap. This is one of my favorite hikes as it is close to the trailhead but has several miles of moderate hiking with stunning views.

I could tell by the tracks in the snow that not many people had been out in this weather. As the trail wore on, I realized only one other person had been out here before me today. The same set of boot prints were headed in and out. As it turned out though, there was a large group of hikers directly behind me that showed up at Hansons Point just after I arrived there myself.

Heading back and down through Pinch Em Tight Gap, I realized that there was a lot of ice under the snow in this valley. I was grateful to see that there had been a pair of hikers ahead of me that were just as determined as I was to get out of this valley no matter how slick the trail appeared to be.

At one point, they, and I in turn, had to cut trail and climb the hillside using coyote tracks in the snow as footholds. The crust of snow was thick with ice and even with my heavy boots, I could not crack it. Thankfully the coyote had climbed the steep hill before the ice had hardened the snow.

All in all, an exhilarating day on the trails with an unexpected workout at the end that left me breathless and bloodied. My knuckles will heal but I hope the memories of this winter day never fade.

After a predicted winter storm was less severe than forecast, I took the opportunity to head to Swift Camp Creek and see if I could find some fish. I think it was a bit late in the stocking season as I saw and caught nothing. There wasn’t a lot of water either. A few deep pools looked promising but nothing was stirring in them.

Having the entire day to do whatever, I went further upstream than I’ve ever gone. Sleet and rain the night before had scrubbed the shoreline of any footprints or animal tracks. Truly felt like I was the first person to go back in this area in a long time. Icicles were dripping everywhere I looked. The sun was shining and the sky was blue and clear.

I eventually came to a point in the stream where the only way forward without swimming or floating was a narrow gap between two massive boulders. As I passed through the gap I couldn’t help but feel like I was passing into another zone of unspoiled forest. Giant stones with deep undercuts from erosion dominated the shoreline. The water was very low so I was able to walk completely around these giant sentinels.

I pushed a little further and found a valley that looked as if giants had a battle using rocks and trees as weapons. The cataclysmic chaos the landscape gave evidence of was truly humbling. Another interesting event was the gurgling water of the creek sounded like a group of men talking. I keep pausing to look over my shoulder as I heard imagined voices from the water.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon I made my way back downstream to where I had parked and had a late lunch on the tailgate. There was another fisherman headed in as I left. I didn’t say anything about not seeing fish as he may have a spot or a method better than mine. Even so, I had stomped through every hole for miles upstream. Felt slightly bad about that but wished him luck anyway.