Overview: Eno River State Park hosts a number of easy to moderate trails, and a few more difficult ones, for the weekend hiker. If you’re looking for a challenging hike through a variety of Piedmont habitats, try the Cox Mountain Trail. This 3.75-mile loop begins at the Few’s Ford picnic area and quickly descends to the Eno River, where you cross the suspension bridge. Follow the signs for the Cox Mountain Trail and you’ll begin the climb up Cox Mountain itself (about a 270-foot elevation gain from the river to the top). Once you reach the crest, the route carries you along a small creek and then back beside the Eno River before returning to the suspension bridge.
Directions: The park is divided into five access points. The Cox Mountain Trail is found at the Few’s Ford access, located at the northern end of Cole Mill Road (see the park maps & directions).
Observations & Ponderings: Walking the Cox Mountain Trail in early March offers even the casual observer an addictive taste of the wonders of the natural world. In early spring, some of the most beautiful flowers of the year burst forth from the cold earth, bedecking the brown leaf litter with snowy white, gold, and amethystine accents. These spring ephemerals—so fleeting they seem to vanish before summer heat arrives—include trout lilies (Erythronium americanum), spring beauties (Claytonia virginica), and round-lobed hepatica (Hepatica americana). On March 8, 2009, I photographed both hepatica and trout lilies along the trail, wanting to capture that brief window when the forest floor feels newly awakened.
After crossing the suspension bridge over the Eno River and following the well-worn path, a brown sign marks the turnoff for the Cox Mountain Trail—and with it, the steep ascent begins. The ground becomes noticeably rockier and drier, and fallen trees lie strewn across the ridge, toppled by hurricane winds. Even the fauna shifts with the terrain: instead of ground skinks, you might find an eastern fence lizard (Sceloporus undulatus) basking in harsh sun on the hilltop. As I climbed on that same March morning, I paused to photograph the trail itself and later captured an image of a fence lizard—an emblem of the ridge’s hotter, more exposed character.
At the top, I took a moment to enjoy the views of rolling hills that remind us we are truly in the Piedmont, the foothills of Appalachia. My mind wandered. What intrepid travelers first saw these same ridges? Did the Eno people climb this mountain? Did the explorer-naturalist Bartram pass this way? Was the Cox family among the first to explore the hill? Or—more tantalizing—was I the first to ever see these sights? I would love to re-live that first moment when someone stood on this ridge and looked out. What did they see? How have things changed? Were there more northern red oaks? Was the soil richer? How many lizards were startled by their arrival? Did they see elk browsing in the distance, or a bear sampling sun-ripened berries?
A snapping twig broke the reverie, and I continued. Soon the trail ran alongside a small creek that had recently been bifurcated by a fallen limb and now trickled right down the path as well. The creek emptied toward the rocky Eno River, and suddenly the air filled with the din of calling chorus frogs. Along this stretch, three shallow ephemeral pools lined the trail, providing breeding habitat for frogs and toads. The evidence of those midnight rendezvous was unmistakable: on March 8, 2009, I photographed gelatinous green frog (Rana clamitans) eggs clinging to submerged twigs beneath the water’s surface.
The trail continues, looping around the base of the mountain and passing enchanting painted buckeyes (Aesculus sylvatica) as their buds prepare to burst. I photographed a painted buckeye that day too—another small sign that winter’s grip was loosening. Eventually, the loop carries you back to the suspension bridge, back past the spring ephemerals, and then—inevitably—back to the concrete world.
Sense of Place 