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A Peace of Granite, A Tale of Granite City
Written By: Emily Crowell | Issue: 2018/03 - March
There is a place I’ve been hesitant to write about because I consider it to be my secret spot, even though chances are that you’ve been there too.
I have a need to be alone in nature on a regular basis, and I live close enough to my secret place that I can zip up there normally when no one else is around. But a truth I’ve learned is that joy shared is joy doubled, as they say, so why try to keep my wonder of this place to myself when it’s just a lot more fun to share it with someone else?
I drove by the trail to Granite City many times before I finally rolled my eyes and made the short trek up. The eye-roll was because I’d heard from several people how cool Granite City is, but how could that be true about a place with such a nondescript entrance? The initial trail just looks like a big rut in the side of the mountain, and there isn’t even any signage indicating what lies ahead.
As is often the case, I and my assumptions were blessedly wrong.
Granite City has become a spiritual realm for me. The short trail up is steep enough to force me into the present, putting one foot in front of the other, and by the time I climb over the final hump I’m quiet enough to receive the gifts of nature – beauty, peace, amazement. There’s no shortage of things to wonder at here – these rocks look like they’ve been plucked out of a Western desert, plopped down in the middle of the Carolina woods, been given a steady supply of water, and just taken root.
(How many of us can identify with just plopping down here and taking root?)
Granite City isn’t a place to hike so much as to wander, climb, scurry, sit, notice, listen. There are obvious paths to follow, but it’s easy to get lost – which is part of the point of visiting, if you ask me. It’s also easy to fall off a rock, so be careful where you step. Be mindful of our slithery friends, too; snakes like to hang out here during the warmer months.
The parking area for Granite City is a little over six miles down Horse Cove Road from downtown Highlands, including a left-hand veer onto Whiteside Cove Road where the road splits in two. On your left you’ll see a small dirt area to park, with no signs and a distinct path leading straight up the side of the mountain. If you see a Forest Service road on the left you’ve overshot the mark just a wee bit.
