Shenandoah National Park is one of the great treasures of the east coast. With its impressive peaks and idyllic valleys, this park is worth the 4 hour drive from southern New Jersey. The mountains range anywhere between 2,300 and 3,700 feet in elevation; tiny, yes, compared to the west coast, but not bad for being accessible by car (hey, we all gots bills to pay). And let’s be honest—climbing anything more than a few thousand feet in a day borders on an expedition that I just don’t have the heart, lungs, or legs for. So while some may scoff at the so-called ‘mountains’ of Shenandoah, most would change their minds quickly should they attempt to summit any one of these peaks in half a day with 45-50 lbs on their back. For the average backpacker like myself, 3,500 feet is quite high enough, rendering any hike in Shenandoah a thoroughly satisfying—and wearying—experience.
My significant other (Brian) and I decided to tour the park over the Labor Day
holiday by partaking in quick 3-day, 2-night backpacking excursion into the less-explored southern half of the Shenandoah. The goal was to summit 3 peaks in 3 days: Furnace Mountain, Trayfoot Mountain, and Blackfoot Mountain. All in all, a total elevation gain and loss of almost 10,000 feet. The plan was to bring my trusty canine sidekick, Jericho, along for the ride, but a mysterious injury occurring the night before we left caused us to leave him in the capable (?) hands of Brian’s brother, Scott. To be honest, I suspected Jericho would fare better battling bears and mountains with a gimpy leg than being left alone for 3 days under Scott’s supervision, but to his credit, I came home to happy and healthy critter (thanks, Scott, for not killing my dog).
The Jones Run trailhead is 80-something miles down on Skyline Drive. For those of you who are not familiar with Shenandoah Nat’l Park, it consists of a strip of mountain lying primarily North-South, with the Skyline Drive Highway running along its center. Skyline drive is an excellent way to view the numerous peaks of Shenandoah, and also allows for a certain amount of Douchebag spotting. Douchebags are native to Virginia, it turns out. I know – I was surprised too. I thought New Jersey was the native home of the Douchebag, but it turns out that a certain subspecies of Douchebag is known to range as far south as North Carolina. You can spot this subspecies by their horrendous hair. The majority of them drive along in their cars at a whopping 25 mph and are known for nonsensical breaking and unannounced turns. There are signs all over the park stating that it’s unlawful to feed the wildlife, so we were careful not to feed any of the Douchebags. We did, however, almost hit a few with the car, but that was mostly on purpose.
We hit the trailhead by 12:30 pm and were quickly on our way. The hike of the first day was an easy 6 miles downhill, so we anticipated an early night at camp. The rangers had warned of the exploding black bear population, so we were half-expecting to encounter a bear at so
me point during the hike. We kind of weren’t expecting to encounter a bear within the first half-mile of our hike, but eeh, it happens. Luckily, Brian had his Bear Mace on the ready. Oh yeah, I smirked when he packed it too, but we must have pulled it out and had it ready to use no less than 20 times during our hike. Brian has this unfortunate track record with wild animals—they kind of like to attack him. That’s why he brought the Mace. And because Brian can run faster than me, I was quickly onboard the Bear Mace Bandwagon. As he pointed out, the best way to avoid getting attacked by a bear is to be the 2nd slowest person in your hiking party. Yeah, he’s sweet like that.
We only actually saw one bear (by we, I mean Brian, because I’m about as observant as a doorknob). We mostly just heard them crashing through the underbrush, mere yards from the trail. Luckily, black bears are kind of like large raccoons. They are mostly a nuisance and while they could attack you, it’s more likely that they just want to nose around in your pack for some
dinner. Still, that one bear who heard us and, instead of retreating, just kind of stood there had me very aware of my limited running capability and my backpack full of tasty cliff bars and beef jerky. At any rate, we made it to camp that night after a fairly uneventful hike. It was a lovely campsite set up next to a babbling brook, nestled in a grove of trees, right next to…a frequently used fire-road. Privacy, not so much, but we were hungry and tired and it worked just fine. Still, the looks we got from the several people who passed us while out for their evening stroll were amusing.
We were up early the next day and ready for our climb first to Furnace mountain (~2,900 ft) and then on to Trayfoot mountain (~3,500 ft). I’m not going to lie, the climb was a bitch, but we were enjoying the views from Furnace Mountain by 10:00am, munching on snacks and wishing we had brought the camera (the summit was reached by a .5 mile out-and-back trail, so we had dropped our packs – and the camera – to hike the last half mile. Doh!). We then continued up to Trayfoot mountain, which was even MORE of a bitch to climb, and had us (me) begging for mercy. I really liked it when we spotted the summit marker WAYYYY above on the trail, and when we finally reached it, it was actually a marker pointing to the summit, which was an additional 0.2 miles ahead. I would have kicked that marker if my legs weren’t about to fall off. And when we reached the summit…there was nothing. No rocky outcrop for us to dangle our legs over, viewing the terrain we had just crossed, no boulder to scramble upon for a glorious view….nothing. Just trees, and a whole lotta bear poop. Trayfoot mountain is apparently covered in thick underbrush and about 1 bear for every 100 yards squared. Fabulous. Luckily, there were a few good views on our descent, but if you’re not at the top, it kind of defeats the purpose. Aaah, well, we were quickly at camp for our second night (no fire roads this time), where Brian surprised me with booze he had packed in just for kicks. HOORAY BOOZE! We enjoyed our libations, toasting to the journey (except for the stupid Trayfoot Mountain summit), and hit the hay.
The final day of hiking was uneventful. Although 5 out of the 6 miles were uphill, a wide, moderately graded old roadbed eased our climb considerably. One mile from our car, we were pleasantly surprised by the best view of the trip from Blackfoot Mountain—360 degrees of peaks and valleys, with not a soul in sight! We lazed at the peak for a good hour, soaking in the view, and getting burned to a crisp by the deceptively strong sun. About a thousand pictures later, we hiked a final mile of downhill luxury and we were back at the car, headed for Skyland resort for a shower and a good night’s sleep in a bed. Our final day was spent meandering around Big Meadow 
(you can guess what was there), taking pictures and getting absolutely fried by the sun. If you can stand the gnats, Big Meadow is a great place to cap off your trip. Nowhere else in the park did I feel so far from New Jersey. We wandered about in the open field, spotting dear and enjoying to numerous species of butterflies that frequent the meadow. When the sun and the bugs got to be too much, we headed home, stopping on the way to pick up some hitch-hikers who were headed to mile marker 20-ish of skyline drive. They were AmeriCorps kids who had hitch-hiked into the park from Maryland for a week of backpacking. Brad and Taylor (?) were their names? Maybe not – I’m awful with names. But I’m sure the good karma will come in useful some day when I’ve done something despicable with the intent of getting away with it. Aaaaah, karma. To stall our arrival back in New Jersey, we stopped off in Baltimore for dinner. I highly recommend the scallops at Phillips in the harbor area. Mohjito butter reduction? Hell YES. And then it was back to New Jersey, where the view sucks, the people are rude, and the air is disgusting. Home at last.
So, in summary, I’d recommend this park to anyone who is in the mood for some good trails and a little bit of an ass whooping. Then again, if you’re REALLY in the mood for an ass whopping, you should go to New Hampshire, where their idea of a moderate trail includes climbing down the face of a cliff. But that’s another story for another day…
My significant other (Brian) and I decided to tour the park over the Labor Day
holiday by partaking in quick 3-day, 2-night backpacking excursion into the less-explored southern half of the Shenandoah. The goal was to summit 3 peaks in 3 days: Furnace Mountain, Trayfoot Mountain, and Blackfoot Mountain. All in all, a total elevation gain and loss of almost 10,000 feet. The plan was to bring my trusty canine sidekick, Jericho, along for the ride, but a mysterious injury occurring the night before we left caused us to leave him in the capable (?) hands of Brian’s brother, Scott. To be honest, I suspected Jericho would fare better battling bears and mountains with a gimpy leg than being left alone for 3 days under Scott’s supervision, but to his credit, I came home to happy and healthy critter (thanks, Scott, for not killing my dog).The Jones Run trailhead is 80-something miles down on Skyline Drive. For those of you who are not familiar with Shenandoah Nat’l Park, it consists of a strip of mountain lying primarily North-South, with the Skyline Drive Highway running along its center. Skyline drive is an excellent way to view the numerous peaks of Shenandoah, and also allows for a certain amount of Douchebag spotting. Douchebags are native to Virginia, it turns out. I know – I was surprised too. I thought New Jersey was the native home of the Douchebag, but it turns out that a certain subspecies of Douchebag is known to range as far south as North Carolina. You can spot this subspecies by their horrendous hair. The majority of them drive along in their cars at a whopping 25 mph and are known for nonsensical breaking and unannounced turns. There are signs all over the park stating that it’s unlawful to feed the wildlife, so we were careful not to feed any of the Douchebags. We did, however, almost hit a few with the car, but that was mostly on purpose.
We hit the trailhead by 12:30 pm and were quickly on our way. The hike of the first day was an easy 6 miles downhill, so we anticipated an early night at camp. The rangers had warned of the exploding black bear population, so we were half-expecting to encounter a bear at so
me point during the hike. We kind of weren’t expecting to encounter a bear within the first half-mile of our hike, but eeh, it happens. Luckily, Brian had his Bear Mace on the ready. Oh yeah, I smirked when he packed it too, but we must have pulled it out and had it ready to use no less than 20 times during our hike. Brian has this unfortunate track record with wild animals—they kind of like to attack him. That’s why he brought the Mace. And because Brian can run faster than me, I was quickly onboard the Bear Mace Bandwagon. As he pointed out, the best way to avoid getting attacked by a bear is to be the 2nd slowest person in your hiking party. Yeah, he’s sweet like that.We only actually saw one bear (by we, I mean Brian, because I’m about as observant as a doorknob). We mostly just heard them crashing through the underbrush, mere yards from the trail. Luckily, black bears are kind of like large raccoons. They are mostly a nuisance and while they could attack you, it’s more likely that they just want to nose around in your pack for some
dinner. Still, that one bear who heard us and, instead of retreating, just kind of stood there had me very aware of my limited running capability and my backpack full of tasty cliff bars and beef jerky. At any rate, we made it to camp that night after a fairly uneventful hike. It was a lovely campsite set up next to a babbling brook, nestled in a grove of trees, right next to…a frequently used fire-road. Privacy, not so much, but we were hungry and tired and it worked just fine. Still, the looks we got from the several people who passed us while out for their evening stroll were amusing.
We were up early the next day and ready for our climb first to Furnace mountain (~2,900 ft) and then on to Trayfoot mountain (~3,500 ft). I’m not going to lie, the climb was a bitch, but we were enjoying the views from Furnace Mountain by 10:00am, munching on snacks and wishing we had brought the camera (the summit was reached by a .5 mile out-and-back trail, so we had dropped our packs – and the camera – to hike the last half mile. Doh!). We then continued up to Trayfoot mountain, which was even MORE of a bitch to climb, and had us (me) begging for mercy. I really liked it when we spotted the summit marker WAYYYY above on the trail, and when we finally reached it, it was actually a marker pointing to the summit, which was an additional 0.2 miles ahead. I would have kicked that marker if my legs weren’t about to fall off. And when we reached the summit…there was nothing. No rocky outcrop for us to dangle our legs over, viewing the terrain we had just crossed, no boulder to scramble upon for a glorious view….nothing. Just trees, and a whole lotta bear poop. Trayfoot mountain is apparently covered in thick underbrush and about 1 bear for every 100 yards squared. Fabulous. Luckily, there were a few good views on our descent, but if you’re not at the top, it kind of defeats the purpose. Aaah, well, we were quickly at camp for our second night (no fire roads this time), where Brian surprised me with booze he had packed in just for kicks. HOORAY BOOZE! We enjoyed our libations, toasting to the journey (except for the stupid Trayfoot Mountain summit), and hit the hay.
The final day of hiking was uneventful. Although 5 out of the 6 miles were uphill, a wide, moderately graded old roadbed eased our climb considerably. One mile from our car, we were pleasantly surprised by the best view of the trip from Blackfoot Mountain—360 degrees of peaks and valleys, with not a soul in sight! We lazed at the peak for a good hour, soaking in the view, and getting burned to a crisp by the deceptively strong sun. About a thousand pictures later, we hiked a final mile of downhill luxury and we were back at the car, headed for Skyland resort for a shower and a good night’s sleep in a bed. Our final day was spent meandering around Big Meadow 
(you can guess what was there), taking pictures and getting absolutely fried by the sun. If you can stand the gnats, Big Meadow is a great place to cap off your trip. Nowhere else in the park did I feel so far from New Jersey. We wandered about in the open field, spotting dear and enjoying to numerous species of butterflies that frequent the meadow. When the sun and the bugs got to be too much, we headed home, stopping on the way to pick up some hitch-hikers who were headed to mile marker 20-ish of skyline drive. They were AmeriCorps kids who had hitch-hiked into the park from Maryland for a week of backpacking. Brad and Taylor (?) were their names? Maybe not – I’m awful with names. But I’m sure the good karma will come in useful some day when I’ve done something despicable with the intent of getting away with it. Aaaaah, karma. To stall our arrival back in New Jersey, we stopped off in Baltimore for dinner. I highly recommend the scallops at Phillips in the harbor area. Mohjito butter reduction? Hell YES. And then it was back to New Jersey, where the view sucks, the people are rude, and the air is disgusting. Home at last.So, in summary, I’d recommend this park to anyone who is in the mood for some good trails and a little bit of an ass whooping. Then again, if you’re REALLY in the mood for an ass whopping, you should go to New Hampshire, where their idea of a moderate trail includes climbing down the face of a cliff. But that’s another story for another day…
1 comment:
Bears, hooray! Shenandoah, hooray! I am moving back east after all, so let's try to make some time to do cool stuff. Maybe we can be really dumb and build snow caves this winter. If it snows.
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