Gouge Cemetery Hike

Compiled by Jane Burgin Gouge

Years of Research

Cannot use without permission of Author - 2012 until present

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Gouge Cemetery Hike

Gouge Cemetery Hike

On a sunny day in April, the Saturday after Easter, 2012, our family gathered in a cove up in Mitchell County to find the Gouge Family Cemetery where Nate Gouge was buried. Mary Cate's cousin, Everette told her that he felt that he could find the Gouge Cemetery where Nat Gouge was buried. Nat Gouge was killed in 1916 while crossing the Nolichucky River. There are several different stories floating around, so the real account of what happened is vague.

A picnic and hike to locate the Gouge Family Cemetery was planned for the Saturday after Easter 2012.

Many thanks to Mr. Everette for organizing and planning this wonderful day exploring the Gouge property, homeplace and cemetery in Mitchell County, N.C. Wonderful memories

were made because the property owners willing gave permission for us to park and cross their property.

The day started with a drive to the Brethern Church for a picnic before the hike.We fought off the swarms of gnats for homemade cream corn, green beans, KFC chicken and cookies filled our tummies for the hike.

We drove to a quaint, small white house along the side of Pigeon Roost

road. The house was built up against a bank. We crossed a bridge that spanned a bubbling branch to park our vehicles and to begin our adventure.

Those on the picnic and hike were: Dean Gouge, Mary Cate, Scott _____, Everett _______, Gail, Everett’s wife, Darin Gouge, Kelly Benson, Kelley Gouge, Kathy Gouge Benedict, Doug Gouge, Jane Gouge.

Some started walking up the road, others piled into the back of two four-wheel drive trucks. Part way up the road, the walkers hopped onto the back of the trucks. The jolting of the rock filled road, bounced us on top of each other, at time we were sliding toward the edge of the tailgate as the truck made its way up the rarely used, steep road. Around curves, dodging tree limbs, we continued to climb the mountain road in Mitchell County, NC.

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Gouge Cemetery Hike

Shortly we arrived at a mountain-side home place. Remanents of rock walls were seen that once held the bank of the yard, where the house once stood. Decaying, moss-covered logs lay across the banks of an almost hidden mountain stream.

The remains of the homeplace can be seen behind the roofing tin and bench. Our group spent a few minutes exploring the remains of the foundation where the house once stood against the spruce covered mountain. The outline was easily recognizable. Forsythia had been planted with care to once brighten the homeplace. A small plot just outside the yard, must have been where they grew a vegetables to feed the family.

In this mountain holler, there was little room for anything else. The vehicle road ended here. Two overgrown logging trails branched out from the homeplace, both verticle from where we stood. The home place was nestled in a holler, surrounded by three ridges with the stream to furnish fresh water.

View from the south road of the home place

Doug & I started up the south trail with Everett & Gail, while waiting on the others to finish exploring the home place. I didn’t get very far, before I realized that I would not be hiking to find the cemetery. Less than 6 days before on a family hiking trip, I fell and broke my right ankle.

All week I kept telling myself that with a cane for balance and support, I could hike to the cemetery sporting my new walking boot.

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Gouge Cemetery Hike

Guess what? Just the short distance up the south trail sent me back down to the trucks. I got settled on the back of the truck to wait while everyone else took off on the adventure…..it was killing me! Dean and I had talked about this adventure for several years. Here it was happening while I am sitting on the back of a truck fighting gnats!

I laid down in the back of the truck bed, propped my cane against the tool box, then hung a jacket over the cane to keep out the gnats --- it worked!

The sounds of the woods were remiencence of my growing up years out in the country. At time the quietness was deafeningly erie. I could imagine, maybe even feel their presence as the Gouge family walked in the clearing to build the rock pillars to support the foundation of the small one or two room house.

The clop, clop could be heard of horses feet coming down the trail dragging the logs to form the sides of the house. At times I would catch my breath as different, yet familiar sounds would reach my ears. A screen door shutting, feet on steps, a dog bark, an axe chopping wood or children’s laughter. Were these memories of my childhood or echos from long ago held in the holler, waiting to be heard, if only someone would listen?

What stories did this family have to tell? What secrets has this holler been holding among the rock crevices, bubbling branch and decaying logs for decades? Would they find the cemetery? Would it be overgrown and remain hidden, reclaimed by the earth? How many people were buried there?

I had to push back the loud eire sounds, so I got up and walked a bit down the road toward the way we came. The boot heavy on my foot walked steps of others before me. Inspecting the rock wall, there were steps built into it leading from the road up to the front of the house. To my back was a small branch, across which I noticed another rock wall and wondered if that was the smoke house or barn area. Maybe it was another small house.

The second rock foundation

Glancing around at the surrounding ridges, I wondered how they traveled through these hills. Turning in a circle, I realized that I was in a bowl, a holler surrounded by vertical ridges of forest. The roads were camouflaged, hidden by the curve of the hills and forest growing.

Leading out of the holler, rocks and ruts created by rain washes marked the road down the ridge alongside the creek. Many trails followed the path of a creek, making it easier to locate and finding their way.

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Gouge Cemetery Hike

A second road, barely noticeable ran up the opposite ridge. Really these roads were not roads at all, but “goat trails”, small narrow trails, barely wide enough for a horse and wagon to navigate.

The trails were so steep, how did they take caskets to the cemetery? Wagons pulled by horse? My Grandfather, Johnson Davis built a “sled”, a wagon on runners instead of wheels pulled by his horse or mule. Maybe they used a sled to carry caskets to the cemetery, family to the church picnics, wood for the fireplace and moonshine from the creek.

The gnats were so bad, breathing was difficult without catching them in my mouth and nose. I headed back to my haven under the coat. It felt good to rest my foot.

A yell sounded on the distant hill, a voice answered across the ridge. What did this mean? Soon another yell sounded on the ridge. I could only imagine….maybe they found the cemetery! A tombstone? A clearing? Had someone fell? What would the camera hold when they returned?

I soon heard voices, this time it was real voices of Dean and Gail returning. The trail had turned too steep for them to navigate, so they joined me at the truck to wait on the others. They described the trail as steep, side-stepping up hill just to move forward. It was then they had turned back.

We spent the waiting time on the others, talking about the Gouge family, the homeplace and the hard life of those that lived in this remote mountain home.

Soon we heard the others returning. Tromping of boots cracking twigs and leaves could be heard all down the side of the ridge as the voices grew closer to our waiting spot. Chatter grew as the crew gathered in the clearing next to the homeplace. So many talking at once, snippets of information flying through my head…..steep hill, going the wrong way, rough walking, on a ridge over from where we were, pulling Mary to the top, looking everywhere, overgrown, counted 16 graves, if it hadn’t be for our young man we would not have found it, Darin found it first, come back again, got pictures of all the tombstones, great view….. The discussion went on, everyone excited about the adventure they had and the things they had seen.

Oh my…what an adventure I missed! Memories, upon memories were created that day, meshing lives from yesteryear with lives of today.