Deep in the Devil’s Cellar

Western North Carolina’s Burke County is a mecca for outdoor enthusiasts, and its crown jewel, the Linville Gorge, serves as a vast hub to foster pursuit of the momentary and sometimes inexplicable wonders of nature. 

The most visited sites have become iconic - Linville Falls, Table Rock, Hawksbill, and Shortoff Mountain, to name only a few. One of the lesser-known gems of the Gorge is an area on Table Rock that houses both the Devil’s Cellar and Devil’s Crack—some locals refer to it as the Crack of the Devil. Although the area is utilized predominantly by climbers and highliners, it is accessible to almost all. 

For those interested in cross-sport hybrid pursuits, the Devil’s Cellar and Crack can be a sort of personal nirvana. It’s one of those destinations where the inner disciplines of multiple sports collide to create something greater than their core parts. On pristine days during spring, summer and fall, the area functions as an observatory to some of the most rugged beauty Linville Gorge has to offer. 

I recently agreed to lead a friend on his first visit to this rugged terrain; an appointment I made knowing full well weather can be a fickle thing. When the day arrived conditions were not the best, but I didn’t wish to taint the expectations of my guest, so I adopted a wait-and-see approach. Ordinarily I’d frown at such a cavalier plan, but on this day it proved to be accidental genius. 

We arrived at the trail head at the Table Rock parking area to confirm what I had expected: Visibility was near zero, a soft rain fell as we prepared to launch, and the clouds were haunched on the surrounding mountaintops for what looked to be an extended stay.

Nonetheless, I tried to remain positive as I spoke glowingly of our destination. Since the entire interval from the parking area to our goal was only slightly over a half-mile, I was able to maintain a facade of excitement. 

I chose our approach from the bottom, utilizing the Mountain to Sea Trail to arrive first at the Cellar and then at the Crack. An eerie cloud followed us from car to crevice. As we approached the trail intersection, disappointment set in. Visibility was so bad that I wasn’t completely certain that we were standing where I wanted to be. After some hesitation we continued on toward the Devils Cellar. Standing directly in front of it, I couldn’t contain my negativity. “I’m sorry the conditions aren’t better today, Brother Cosmo,” I said.

He never answered me. It was as if he’d not heard my words. He was in the scene, and in the moment. Watching him absorbing this beauty for the very first time, with those eyes and that expression, was priceless.

I realized I had been rather shallow in my expectations, despite a wealth of experience to the contrary. Before our eyes, the natural ‘scape’ surrounding us revealed itself incrementally and in a way I had never witnessed. A landscape that seemed drab only moments before was now alive and breathing. The fog flexing in and out of the triangularly shaped Cellar made it resemble a huge, exhaling nostril. The look and feel of the surrounding formations that day lent credibility to their given names more than ever for me. 

After thoroughly showcasing the Cellar to Cosmo, we continued on to the Crack of the Devil. If I hadn’t been already, the next few steps sold me on the conditions of the day. The crack, though always rugged, looked more daunting and impossible to traverse than I had ever seen. The boulder-strewn crevice took on the properties of a Minotaur’s maze. The low-hanging fog created a mood worthy of a Martianscape. After ascended half-way up the crack, the entire area looked and felt foreign. The outer upper rim looked more pronounced than ever, and where there had been nothing to see just moments before, now the senses were challenged to keep up. 

I just couldn’t get enough. We spent the entire morning covering only Devils Crack. Although I was excited to ascend to the top of the separation spire that exists on the ceiling of the Cellar, I was content to just climb all over the Crack for as long as a thorough exploration required. We took nearly two hours to make our way up to the top—a distance that generally takes no more than 30 minutes. 

It is rare to have both the Cellar and the Crack all to ones self, but on this magical and mystical day we experienced just that—a private showing of one of the most ruggedly beautiful scenes in the region, displaying its versatility and uniqueness in a way few ever witness.

We had intended to spend the day on Table Rock and the afternoon in the bowels of the Cellar and Crack, yet the beauty we witnessed while ascending was so complete and rare that we needed go no where else. It was quite the outing - one neither of us are soon to forget.