On the Lookout

With the leaves down we are out, about, and on the lookout. Lately we've been looking for fresh ice and boulders to climb but mostly we are looking for crazy trees. Recently there's been a few neat new spots, far off the trail we found another old overgrown cemetery on Old Rag, and a CCC (Civilian Conservation Corp) camp near Hawksbill gap. Can't seem to get lucky and find any crazy trees though. Oh well, maybe next time.

Toppin the T-bird

SMG guide Jeremy looks on, as his wife Christina takes to the challenge of the last vertical step of the Thunderbird smear.

Wonderland

When the weather is this nasty in the south, the schools all close. When school is closed after-school programing is closed. When after school "work" is closed, cars that get driven too much can be worked on. When I'm at the parents' place and I can't drive my car, it seems two options are presented to me: I can enjoy a quiet day with the fam, or I can jump on Dad's bike and head to the park. I chose the latter, pumped the tires, greased the chain, threw some hot tea in the pack and hit the field.

The family home looks out on a long corn field flowing into the landscape-dominating facade of Old Rag Mtn. a few miles distant. The field is a shortcut I deemed the best way as the bike crunched through last night's ice and into yesterday's snow. Making my way across, the tires spun but with some effort the ripped foam handle-grips obeyed and in no time I was passing the lake where Mom and I went ice skating last week. Rt. 231 was impressively clear, but Revercombs Corner and Nethers Mill were still solid ice as I peddle-slip, peddle-slipped my way to Old Rag's upper parking lot.

I parked the trusty Mtn. Track bike in the closest spot as I was the first one on the Mtn. today... well, actually second, the one car in the lot sat running and I judged that the driver might have spent a cold night out by the sounds of the heater running on full blast and the snores emanating from the open window.

Donning Yaktrax, I sipped a cup of hot tea and cracked the first few steps in the unbroken trail. Upward into the thickening mist I went until I passed my second, then third pileated woodpecker of the day. Each large red-headed bird letting me come a little closer than the last. Maybe it's the Tao of the single mountaineer without much of a job, and even less for possessions, who doesn't know what he's missing, but it's these types of experiences which leave me feeling so blessed. With every step a little more mist could be seen clinging to the surrounding needles, leaves, trees, and rocks till nearly the the whole world was frosted white. It was as if I had stepped with my cartoonish bright clothes into a black and white photo of a winter wonderland. Even the spider webs glistened with the fine frozen mist clinging heavily.

Nearing the top I noticed the cold wind losing its nip. It seemed a warm breeze was coming from the south and the higher I climbed the more snow was blowing off the trees. I stood atop the Mtn. in a thick fog with a cup of tea and watched as a bright white spot on a tree became clear and dripped. Snow and ice underfoot was becoming slush and soaking my feet. I headed down, retracing my steps on the ridge trail. The trees were now for the most part wet and the delicate crystalline structures gone with the wind. I must have woken from the surreal dream of hibernation where frozen formations would flourish only to find that it was now spring.

Just before a constricting pile of boulders the trail squeezes down I may have spotted a white rabbit descending. I followed it into the steep hole and when I came out below I was again in wonderland. The Mtn. had put back on its winter finest and I turned to my vast (minuscule) meteorologic knowledge to contemplate. Since normally as you travel up in elevation the temperature drops three to five degrees for every 1000 ft. of gain and today's weather seemed to be doing exactly the opposite, I decided it must be a temperature inversion. Satisfied, I poured myself a hot tea and proceeded down. Making it back to my noble red steed for the day I found that the only other car in the lot still housed the now warm fellow. His windows were up, the car off and he appeared alive, so I didn't bother his slumber. Placing my climbing helmet on my head I prepared to mount this fine piece of mountain bike machinery.

Stepping the right pedal down the left came up and correctly bumped the pretty sweet kick-stand and it popped up into the riding position. Now I don't if you've ever had the opportunity to ride such a high quality piece of two wheeled zero emissions vehicle delight down the steep road below the upper lot when it's coated in solid ice, but I don't mind telling you something about the experience. It's great! I had now embarked on by far the most adventurous part of my day and the ice coated brakes assured it would not stop before the hill had ended. The wheels slid, ice cracked out resistance, snow crushed and slush soared sideways. Parts of that old gem of a bicycle may have rattled off, the ripped foam grips ripped some more and if there's a record for the ice speed bike descend of that road I'm sure I bettered it. Even with all the speed my down hill trajectory was anything but straight. The few thoughts in my head not related to holding on for dear life consisted of wondering if the guy sleeping was really waiting on a snowplow, hoping that a snowplow did not come right now, a few quick prayers and a possible curse. Way to many years of doing way to many dumb things at way to young an age had quite possibly culminated in this moment and managed to keep me afloat till the road leveled. A quick thank you Lord went up and the rest of the ride was a cool breeze back home.

Icy Paths

Last weeks ice storm crystalized the park, closed down sections and devastated many trees. Every year these storms wreak havoc on the roads and trails. They are as dangerous as they are destructive but with a watchful eye and a safety consciousness normally reserved for higher peaks I fully recommend going out to see the unparalleled beauty which awaits!
If your worried about it, I would also recommend a guide.

Expanding the Vision

My (SMG guide Chad) grandfather Allan Simpson is a lifelong conservationist, and at ninety years of age he has proven he is in it for the long run. In the 1960s he worked as an editor of the Canton Repository newspaper in Canton, Ohio, where he wrote a weekly column aimed at drumming up support for the preservation of the Ohio and Erie Canalway. Working with the help of Ohio congressman Ralph Regula a park was created and has since expanded to span 110 miles in northeastern Ohio. At SMG we our proud of our conservationist ideals and look with admiration to those who led the way for so many years.



This sign features my grandfather alongside Ralph Regula and can be seen at the Everett Bridge on the Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath. (Click on the picture to enlarge it and read what it says.)

Prescription

Take a double dose of a day hike, on ice, by way of a swift run, follow with a visual side of a mid-winter violet. Don't forget a good nights sleep, a merry Christmas, and a happy New Year!

High Mountain Coral

Between the Sunday morning early church service and the "special family lunch" at 1 p.m. little bro and I decided there was just enough time. My bet was that the freezing mist and frigid temps on Marys Rock might amount to something special. I was right, but by the time we had it together and made our way to the trailhead it was 11:15, so we would be pushing time. No matter, we like a good challenge, and we were off!
Every step crackled as we beat feet in our push for the summit two miles upward. We were aware that one slip on the ice- covered trail would at least spell a tardy lunch ticket. We moved quickly but cautiously. Crunching upward we were much more concerned about the heavy laden tree branch/land mines that hung snow-encrusted above our heads. In the late pre-park days, the untimely demise of the Old Rag community pastor was brought on by a falling branch and I have taken note. Not wanting to follow suit, Bret and I listened for the gunshot crack of an overhead branch with each cold breeze that cut through the dormant forest.
A foggy wind had battled its way through these same trees the night before, evidenced by every twig, tree, and blade of grass we passed along the trail. Nature's war had been waged in the black of night when the violent and oppressive wind attempted to massacre the seemingly defenseless snow by pushing it into the valley where it would surely be melted by daybreak. Millions of tiny wind beaten snow particles were pushed down the mountain, but they had a plan. Searching for solace the particles sped up to whip around the obstacles blocking their paths and in doing so created wind eddies on the calm lee sides of the obstructions. Some slight particles were swirled back around and caught spinning in the relative warmth. These desperate particles eventually found another weary chip of wood or stone or snow on which to cling in the shelter of the obstacles. The night wind whipped and the fog fought down the mountain as more particles clung on in the building shelters. The cold wind blew furiously in the early morning light but the harder it pushed the more the tiny draftees joined the ranks. Armies soon backed every brave wind warrior holding the front lines and the shelters grew longer.
By the time we arrived the fog and wind's front lines had retreated down the mountain and now lingered over Sperryville. Trillions of tiny snow soldiers still held their positions flagged out behind their forest protectors as they held the high ground. Save for a few cold slaps in the face from the bitter, defeated wind, Bret and I were permitted to take pictures of the pure white war zone.
By the time we reached Marys Rock we were on track to be late for lunch but well loaded with pictures of the high mountain which now looked to me more like an undersea coral cliff where instead of tiny life fighting the tides, snow had here defeated the wind.
Stomachs growling, and throwing most caution to the stiff mountain wind, we ran back down the trail. Caution now behind us we possibly even exceeded the thirty-five mph speed limit as we drove down the mountain. We were twenty-three minutes late, which meant we were right on time; the food was just coming out of the oven!

Misty Mountain Hikes

These days Shenandoah has been too wet to climb rock, too warm to climb ice and at times too foggy to see your hand in front of your face. Lucky for hikers it's very often the company, not the contrast that makes for a great hike. And when the fog rolls back and the mountains come out it can be even more memorable!

Thanksgiving Blessings

In our first fifteen years of business SMG/Teamlink have been blessed by many, many things. The opportunities and abilities to educate, conserve, and give back in and to the areas we love have been incredible. Spectacular trips have become the norm, and with the early onset of winter temperatures we were able to put the icing on the turkey!



Although we do not guide any ice climbing trips professionally I couldn't resist taking the family out for a little ice adventure in a cold corner of Shenandoah. The trip was blessed with no wind, many safe first time climbs, and family memories.



SNP has always been blessed with good gear climbing and the chance to climb a tower like this tucked into the woods of SNP is always a blessing.

History

Walking the Weakley Hollow fire road that divides Old Rag Mt from the bulk of the park lands we are surrounded by the history of the place. We gaze upon the old cemetery with the unmarked rocks set at the head and foot of the graves. The fallen foliage reveals more of the walls, stone piles, and old roads which remain from the hollow folk who lived here before the park was established. A closer look into the woods might reveal a burnt tree, or cabin charred by the historic fire of 2000. The rusted remains of a Model T lie in stark contrast to what geologist believe to be billion year old boulders.


A few miles up the mountain near Dark Hollow we ponder the history of Pvt John Weakley at his beautifully inscribed headstone. The leaves have fallen around the Cave Cemetery and we can look out in the valley and admire the yellow bands of Tulip Poplar still hanging in the sheltered elevations.
We too can be found hanging on outside during these fall days. The temperatures are great for a hike to a waterfall, or a climbing lesson in the lower and more sunny spots.


Dressed for the cold we enjoyed a sunset atop the mountain while practicing haul systems before the sun set on the years last Old Rag Mountain Steward weekend.
As always, we add to our personal history with every hike through the woods, scramble over Old Rag, or climb up a crack. We intertwine our own histories with those of this great park in this great place, and we soak up every minute of it.

Running Ragged

Another weekend running ourselves ragged with the Old Rag Mountain Steward program. It's great to feel like you are making a positive difference on a place you care about so much.

On Top of the World

Sub-freezing temps and wind didn't keep us from persevering to the mountain top with a DC gov group for this spectacular sunset. Good times.


Off the beaten trail there is much to see. Here's a section of the seldem seen Greasy Falls in the north district.

Frosty Mtn Air

These days the air seems as clear as the mornings are cool. With the leaves recently vacating the high peaks new views appear on the trail like frosty footprints. The Indian summer has ended and we at SMG are loving the crispness of the fall.


Passed this talus slope still covered in frost at around 10:30am on the 23rd.




Long evening shadows on Old Rag after a rainy Mt. Steward training day.

Fall Findings

There's a lot of falling water like this in SNP and these spots are only getting nicer as the leaves get brighter.



Watched this five foot black snake down climb the slippery river rock without the advantage of sticky rubber shoes, or feet, but he was really good at smearing (climbing technique)!



Had a great night out just off the AT in Md complete with late nite games around the table.

Famous Days

What a great long hike with some famous folks from the Netherlands (sorry I can't put their names online). We all very much enjoyed the motivated hike over Old Rag, up the fire road, and down Corbin run. Unfortunately all our searching for bear was to no avail, but the gaggle of turkey was very cool to see. The friendship and foliage weren't to shabby either.

Come get it

Fall fireworks are here, come check them out.



These Jenkins hollow ruins are worth checking out as well.

News from the Bear Loop

Noticed four separate bear on the Oct 2 bear loop hike! With so many bear in a small area it's no surprise to see this warning sign. But if you look close at the sign what may surprise you, are the two camo stick bugs.(click on the pic to blow it up)



Our fourth bear of the day, and unlike the first three this one (the biggest) was not afraid. We slowly walked the trail, snapping pictures and passing while the bear rooted around and wrestled a log for the grubs it hid underneath.



We must have mossied a little to slow because just after this picture the bear stomped his paw at us in agitation. Trying not to look directly into his eyes (a sign of aggression) we moved on down the trail. He stomped both front paws a second time and we were glad to be out of there and to notify others on the trail along the way.

Outdoor art

Here's some pieces I liked from the Hikers Art Show held in Shenandoah this week. Too cool to leave behind, I picked up my copies with a point and shoot. There's much more to see, if you can make it out to the show!

Six Bear, Day Two

Wow! Two days in a row we have tied my personal best. Six bear sightings in one day! We may have even seen the same mother with two cubs that was caught on film Monday. The family was again up a tree, and we again saw three others. We may have to rename the eight mile loop "the bear loop" (formerly known as "Jeremy's really cool loop, where you see lots of really cool stuff").
I was unable to get any good shots of the bear, so instead here's a picture of Dolly. Dolly is a Skyland local who I saw on the way in. Dolly is also a diva that loves to have her picture taken, but how could you not when you look that good?

Six Bear, One Day

Some guys have all the luck! Today three Danish fellows got the full value Shenandoah experience. The weather was perfect, the views were incredible and we enjoyed FOUR separate bear sightings. The most crazy was the one were we stopped mid-step due to the noise above our heads. Looking straight up, we were alarmed to see three faces peering straight back. Simultaneously we back stepped and grabbed at cameras. The bear family scampered down mom first, with heads peeking from the trunk sides all the while.

Walking back from the lake yesterday with my father and brother I found three four-leaf clovers in the field. I guess some guys have all the luck.

Reasonable

This evening (9- 14 -08) the sunset over Old Rag mountain gave me one more stunning reason to show the place I'm from, to the people I meet.

The hard way down