Oventop Mountain

View of Hazel Mountain and Buck Hollow from Oventop

4 miles round trip, 1100 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Moderate; good navigation skills necessary for bushwhacking, some rock scrambling
Access: Paved road to trailhead; no pass necessary to park

Oventop Mountain is a secret hidden in plain sight. Most visitors to Shenandoah National Park have seen Oventop, even if they're unfamiliar with the name. Rising above Sperryville in the North District of the park, just northeast of Thornton Gap, the peak is a common sight from Piedmont-side overlooks on Skyline Drive near Panorama and is seen by nearly all visitors headed to the Central or North Districts on US 211. In the early days of the park, a trail led along the ridge of this minor peak, but the park ceased maintenance of the trail decades ago, allowing nature to gradually reclaim the mountain. Today, it makes an excellent off-trail, bushwhacking destination for hikers with appropriate skills and experience due to both the ease of accessing this mountain from US 211 and because of the good and unique views of Mary's Rock from outcrops near the summit. Navigational abilities and good map-reading skills are a must; although the hike is not physically very difficult, it's important to understand that there is no longer any trail to follow. While it's possible to hike further and visit all three summits of Oventop, the hike that I'll describe here visits only the main summit and viewpoints on nearby granite slabs.

Oventop is visible from Buck Hollow Overlook on Skyline Drive, just south of Thornton Gap; for me, this multi-peaked ridge has always been a park greeter, welcoming me back to the Blue Ridge. Although Oventop is a fairly rounded and muted ridge, I've long stood at Buck Hollow Overlook and eyed the large granite slabs near the mountain's main peak, which I've always expected would have good views of Mary's Rock and the Hazel Mountain area. Returning to Virginia for the holidays, I decided to tackle Oventop with a friend in the winter to take advantage of the sparse vegetation, which makes for easier bushwhacking. Oventop also seemed a logical choice for us on a day when Skyline Drive was closed due to recent ice and snow.

Oventop (center) viewed from Skyline Drive, with the target rock slab visible along the ridge

I hiked Oventop with a friend on a cold, cold New Year's Eve, during a rare winter when thermometers in Virginia were reading in negative Fahrenheit. Luckily for my friend and I, the temperatures on the day of our hike broke 10 degrees F, making for a relatively toasty day in an abysmally cold winter. We set out from Fredericksburg west on Route 3, stopping at a Sheetz along the way for lunch, a variety of unhealthy snacks, and barely edible hot chocolate. At Culpeper, we followed US 522 to the north and west, passing through Culpeper's revitalized downtown before the Piedmont hill drive that brought us to Sperryville. At Sperryville, we turned left onto US 211 west, following US 211 past the Shenandoah National Park boundary sign. Instead of driving up to Skyline Drive, we drove briefly uphill to a wide left bend in the road with a gravel parking area on the southern (eastbound) side of the road. We pulled into unmarked parking lot and then walked across US 211 to the concrete post marking the lower trailhead for the Pass Mountain Trail. As this trailhead is not on Skyline Drive, it's typically possible to access this hike even if Skyline Drive is closed due to snow.

We started up the Pass Mountain Trail, following the slightly-packed snow of the path through the snow-coated hardwood forest. Near the trailhead, we immediately spotted signs of the park's past, noticing a stone fence built by the mountain settlers who lived in the Blue Ridge until the park's establishment during the Great Depression.

Stone fence built by the former residents of the mountains

The wide trail climbed steadily through the snowy forest, making two switchbacks as it approached a saddle between Oventop and Pass Mountain. The trail had at some point almost certainly been a road, likely built by the mountain settlers to access their homes in the hollows; at one point, up to 10,000 settlers of European descent had lived in the Blue Ridge in what is now the park, building farms, homes, schoolhouses, living off mining, logging, and farming.

Pass Mountain Trail in the snow

At 0.6 miles from the trailhead and after about 400 feet of elevation gain, the trail came to the saddle. Old maps mark a four way intersection here, where no true intersection exists any more: now, the saddle simply marks a turn in the Pass Mountain Trail, which heads west and continues towards the AT and Skyline Drive. The footprints of hikers who had arrived before us all veered off to the left, heading up the Pass Mountain Drive. However, it wasn't hard for us to spot the other two trails that once led out from the saddle. One former trail led downhill, a continuation of the old road we had hiked in on that descended to the north into Thornton Hollow. The other trail, which was faint and unbroken in the snow, led directly uphill to the east along the ridge of Oventop.

The unbroken trail up Oventop

From here on, the hike was a bushwhack to the summit of Oventop. Following the trail trace, we began to work our way up the ridge of Oventop. While the trail may be difficult to find for those lacking extensive off-trail travel, habitual bushwhack enthusiasts will find this to be a relatively easy route. Undergrowth on Oventop was not excessively dense, which allowed us to make fast progress along the ridge.

A dicier stretch of trail

In sections, the trail had become overgrown or obscured, either covered in vegetation or lost completely in groves of mountain laurel. Deadfall was common and footing was uneven since we weren't hiking on a trail. In spots where we lost the trail, we generally stuck to following the ridge, though at one point the trail itself circled to the south side of the ridge before climbing towards the summit. The climb was steady and the summit of Oventop was over 600 feet above the saddle.

We saw many wildlife tracks in the fresh snow, including sets of paw prints that paced both directions on many fallen logs. We weren't able to identify the species identification of the previous hiker on Oventop, though our guess was that it had been a bobcat or a fox.

Animal prints- a bobcat or a fox?

At the true summit of Oventop, we passed a jumble of large boulders, exposing the granite bones of the mountain. Although this was the high point of the ridge, there were only partial views through the trees of the surroundings, so we continued onwards along the ridge towards the south-facing rock slabs, which were on the east end of the main summit.

Rock outcrops at the summit of Oventop

The ridge became substantially rockier as we approached the slabs, forcing us to stick to the south side of the ridge and work through thickets of mountain laurel. Soon, we caught sight of the granite slabs just downhill of where we stood on the ridge and we made our way down a small gully to the rocks themselves, doing a bit of scrambling along the way. Once out on the slabs, we had a wide and rarely-enjoyed view of Mary's Rock, the Pinnacle, and Hazel Mountain. Snow on the ground accentuated the layered ridges of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Marys Rock, the Pinnacle, and Buck Hollow from Oventop

The slabs also offered a sweeping view of the Piedmont. We could see portions of Sperryville at the foot of Oventop, US 211 running below us towards Thornton Gap, and the rolling hills of the Piedmont. Notable features included the Southwest Mountains on the horizon, which run just northeast of Charlottesville, and Thoroughfare Mountain in Madison County. We enjoyed the views for a while until the cold forced us to start moving again.

View into the Piedmont from Oventop

Before heading back, we explored a bit more of the ridgeline area near the granite slabs. We found one decent north-facing viewpoint outcrop from which we could see down in Thornton Hollow and across to Pignut, Hogsback, the Marshalls, and the Peak. Looking out into the Piedmont in this direction, we spotted the Bull Run Mountains out by Haymarket in the distance.

Hogback, Mount Marshall, and the Peak

There were a number of other outcrops near the summit that would probably have been accessible by scrambling in less slippery conditions, but we chose to play it safe considering that we were off trail with snow on the ground. If you hike here in dry conditions, it may be possible to find a few more nice viewpoints. Additionally, the route continues along Oventop's ridge to its lower two summits; the last summit has a sharp rock outcrop that is visible from Skyline Drive that is also likely to have decent views. On a sub-freezing day, we chose not to continue to the end of the ridge, but there's plenty of exploring that one can do on Oventop and plenty of forgotten but beautiful views that few Shenandoah visitors see today.

Robertson Mountain from Skyline Drive

Berry Hollow view from Robertson Mountain summit

6.2 miles round trip, 1250 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Easy-moderate
Access: Trailhead access off Skyline Drive, Shenandoah National Park entrance fee required

Although the eastern approach to Robertson Mountain from Weakley Hollow is known for being one of the steepest segments of trail in Shenandoah National Park, this western approach to the summit via the Old Rag Fire Road from Skyline Drive is not too difficult. This rarely-visited summit is undeservedly overlooked, providing sweeping views of the Central District of the park and plenty of mountain laurels blooming in the spring with just a fraction of the crowds that pack nearby Old Rag, Hawksbill, and Stony Man.

I made my third trip to the summit of Robertson- but the first on the route described here- with my family on a trip home to Virginia over Memorial Day. We set out on a comfortable, partly cloudy day from Fredericksburg, taking Route 3 to Culpeper, US 522 north to Sperryville, and then US 211 west to the Thornton Gap Entrance of the park. Once in the park, we followed Skyline Drive down to milepost 43 and parked at the small parking area for the Limberlost Trail, accessible via a short spur on the east side of the Drive. There are many trails emanating from the Limberlost Trailhead: we followed the Old Rag Fire Road, which from the parking lot initially looks as if it is a continuation of the road.

After we passed the gate on the road, the Old Rag Fire Road turned to gravel. In the first third of a mile of the hike, the fire road closely paralleled one of the legs of the Limberlost Loop Trail; the scenery was similar, with young hemlocks and almost-blooming mountain laurel lining the road. We spotted deer along the trail not far from the trailhead.

Deer on the Old Rag Fire Road

Barely over two hundred meters into the hike, the fire road passed an intersection with the Whiteoak Canyon Trail. We stayed on the fire road and continued onward, passing a second intersection with the Limberlost Trail one-third of a mile into the hike.

About two-thirds of a mile from the trailhead, the fire road crossed over the Robinson River. The river splits into two separate channels here, each with small, pleasant cascades; further downstream, the Robinson River plunges down the six wateralls of Whiteoak Canyon, one of the most popular and scenic spots in the park.

Robinson River

Past the river, the trail embarked on a brief uphill climb before flattening out and passing two marked trail junctions with the Skyland-Big Meadows Horse Trail; soon after, the trail passed by what appeared to be a Park Service cabin on the right (south) side of the fire road. From this point on until the junction with the Robertson Mountain Trail, the fire road followed a gradual downhill.

Spring is one of the best times to hike in Shenandoah: the return of flora to the Blue Ridge is eye-catching in its patterns, verdancy, and showy colors. Fields of ferns blanketed many parts of the forest floor; wildflowers of various colors lined the fire road. In winter, young evergreen hemlocks that have sprouted since the plague of the hemlock wooly adelgid provide some of the only color in the Blue Ridge forests here; in spring, their deeper green needles contrast nicely with the more vibrant green of new vegetation. Most of the hemlocks along the trail seemed free of adelgids- perhaps the trees that survive have developed resistance. I'm hopeful that two or three centuries from now, massive, towering hemlocks like the ones that once ruled Limberlost and Ramseys Draft will reclaim the upland forests.

Ferns on the forest floor

Trailside wildflowers

Hemlocks line the Old Rag Fire Road

At about one and two-thirds mile from the trailhead, we passed a junction with the Corbin Mountain Trail on the north (left) side of the trail. This trail led towards the Indian Run Trail, which in turn connects down to Corbin Cabin. We were struck by the fact that we had so far had the trail to ourselves despite being in the heart of one of the most popular parts of the park on Memorial Day weekend: Robertson Mountain is surrounded by spots such as Corbin Cabin, Old Rag, Skyland, and Whiteoak Canyon.

At 2.2 miles, we passed a junction to the left (north) of the fire road for the Corbin Hollow Trail, a rarely-visited trail down one of Shenandoah's most historically significant hollows that I had explored a few years earlier. Just a hundred yards further downhill, we came to the junction with the Robertson Mountain Trail, also on the left (this time, east) of the Old Rag Fire Road.

We took the left fork here to start up the narrow trail to Robertson Mountain. This trail, which immediately began burrowing through a thicket of mountain laurel, was much different in character than the wide fire road and was honestly much more enjoyable to hike- the flowers seemed closer to the trail and the landscape a little less manicured.

Whereas the mountain laurel at Limberlost, higher up the mountain close to the Blue Ridge crest, was just budding and still a week or so from blooming, many of the mountain laurel that lined the trail at Robertson Mountain had just began to bloom. It was my first time seeing laurel in bloom since I had moved from Virginia four years earlier. Many of the buds that were yet to bloom were beautifully pink.

Mountain laurel in various stages of bloom

Blooming Mountain Laurel

We continued up the Robertson Mountain Trail, which after an initial gentle climb started a more steady ascent with occasional switchbacks up the mountain. The trail finally leveled out upon reaching the ridge and followed the ridge towards Robertson's summit. Mountain laurel was plentiful here; we also spotted some pink azaleas blooming along the trail.

Wild azaleas on Robertson Mountain

The spur for the summit viewpoint at Robertson Mountain was unmarked but noticeable: a social path led off to the south (right) of the trail about 3 miles from the trailhead, winding up a last short uphill to an area of open rocks on the south side of the summit. Robertson Mountain has one of the better views in Shenandoah National Park, but there aren't many visitors that come up here: we saw three other hikers at the summit on a busy holiday weekend who were actually the only other hikers that I've seen at this summit in three visits.

View of Old Rag from Robertson Mountain

The southern view encompassed a 180-degree slice of the Blue Ridge and Piedmont from Old Rag to Stony Man. The rocky summit of Old Rag was visible to the eastsoutheast at roughly horizon-level: Old Rag and Robertson are the same height. The Southwest Mountains and Carters Mountain were visible directly to the south; Charlottesville lies at the foot of Carters Mountain. The most eye-catching part of the view was the jumble of granite and granodiorite peaks to our south across Berry Hollow: the steep, accented ridges of Doubletop, Jones, and Fork Mountains rose out of the Piedmont. Fork Mountain is the third tallest mountain in the park section of the Blue Ridge but lies outside the park proper; instead, the third tallest peak in Shenandoah is Hazeltop, which lay just to the right (west) of the tower-topped Fork Mountain. Closer in, we could see the more gradual forms of Hawksbill and Stony Man, two Catoctin formation peaks that together are the tallest two peaks in the park.

Hawksbill Mountain from Robertson Mountain

We lunched at the summit and explored around the nearby boulders. I scrambled up the boulders at the true summit of Robertson for a slightly obscured view to the north of Mount Marshall and the Peak. I was glad to be back in Shenandoah.

Big Devils Stairs

Big Devils Stairs

7 miles loop, 1600 feet elevation gain

Difficulty: Moderate-strenuous, requires some off-trail navigation, bushwhacking, and rock scrambling
Access: Trailhead off Skyline Drive (paved road), Shenandoah National Park entrance fee required

In the north district of Shenandoah National Park, on the south slopes of Mount Marshall, a stream has cut a deep, rugged canyon into the Catoctin metabasalts of the Blue Ridge crest. The Big Devils Stairs- also rendered as Big Devil Stairs in earlier park literature- is one of the most impressive canyons in the park and was once of the most visited spots in the park. Today, a fairly easy hike leads to an overlook of this deep gorge. In the early days of the park, however, visitors followed a trail up through the high-cliffed canyon. The rock scramble through the canyon and past its tumbling waterfalls and great hemlocks was an experience some considered on par with scrambling up Old Rag. Now, the hemlocks are gone, victim of the wooly adelgid. The trail, now unmaintained for many decades, has disappeared into the brush. Intrepid hikers willing to bushwhack through some thick brush and find a route through a rough, rocky, and wild canyon can still catch a taste of what those early visitors must have experienced.

In The Undying Past of Shenandoah National Park, Darwin Lambert writes:

"One day in 1935 I asked Winfield Sisk, age 13, to guide me to the Devil Stairs- the bigger of the two. He told me the gorges of Little Devil Stairs and Big Devil Stairs "ain't different in size. It's the devil that's different!" ... I laughed with Winfield and imagined a giant moonshiner with a long rifle running his still in one gorge and a dwarfed but oh-so-crafty moonshiner in the other. Winfield said he didn't know if the devils had been stillers long ago, but he reckoned they'd been some kind of humans."

Big Devils Stairs is one of those special places in Shenandoah where treading off the beaten path into a routeless canyon gives a feeling of rediscovery rather than of finding something new. Although the gorge is rugged and wild, the landscape whispers reminders of its past and the cliffs seem almost to hold ha'nts from a lifestyle and a time that has disappeared. It's not difficult to stare down into the canyon from its high walls and understand why some of the former residents of these mountains might have thought these stairs housed a large devil. Or perhaps Big Devil Stairs is nothing more than another beautiful Shenandoah canyon; maybe my long absence from the mountains of my childhood has led me to over-romanticize the few spots I get to explore on my brief returns.

I hiked this trail with a good friend from high school around the new year. We set out from Fredericksburg fairly early in the morning and followed Route 3 west to Culpeper; in downtown Culpeper, we followed the signs to take US 522 north and west to Sperryville, where we again followed signs to take US 211 west to the Thornton Gap Entrance of Shenandoah. From the entrance, we followed Skyline Drive north up to Gravel Springs Gap near mile 18 and parked there.

There are many trails that head out from the trailhead Gravel Springs Gap. It is important to start off on the right one; fortunately, the widest trail leaving from the lot is the correct trail for going to Big Devils Stairs. We followed the fire road leaving from the end of the parking lot in the direction of the Gravel Springs Hut. This trail was once a mountain road that connected Harris Hollow with Browntown in Shenandoah Valley. The road headed downhill and came to an intersection with a connector trail that led to the Bluff Trail just a few hundred yards out of the parking lot. We took the left turn onto this small connector trail, which very quickly brought us down to the Bluff Trail. At the junction with the Bluff Trail, we took a left again to head northeast. We stayed left on the Bluff Trail a little further on at a junction with the Harris Hollow Trail.

The Bluff Trail derives its name from an old nickname for Mount Marshall. The Marshalls mark a significant point in the Blue Ridge: they are the northernmost 3000-foot peaks in the range. Their current name comes from the area's association with the family of none other than that champion of federalism in the budding American judicial system, the fourth Supreme Court Chief Justice John Marshall. Although John grew up closer to Warrenton, he owned the Leeds Manor within eyesight of what is today his namesake peak.

The yellow-blazed Bluff Trail was surprisingly rock. The trail ascended and descended at times as it roughly followed the contours of Mount Marshall towards the stream that fed Big Devil Stairs. Along the way, my friend and I spotted some reasonably well-preserved columnar basalts that had seen minimal metamorphism. We also had spotty views of the Peak through the leafless winter forest.

Catoctin Formation columnar basalts along the Bluff Trail

We followed the Bluff Trail for an up-and-down but fairly gentle mile and a half to a stream crossing. We rock-hopped across the stream that flowed through Big Devil Stairs and immediately afterward came to the junction with the Big Devil Stairs Trail. We took the right fork here and began to head downhill through the mountain laurel towards the canyon. The trail generally followed the ridge just to the east of the canyon. We passed by a nicely cleared campsite on the right of the trail and could tell that the canyon was starting at our right; however, at this point there were not yet any true views.

The trail continued descending for a while. Finally, with the canyon in view through the trees, we reached a sharp right turn in the trail that brought us off the ridge and down to a large outcrop on the rim of the canyon. From the top of the eastern wall, we stared down into the Big Devils Stairs, a narrow and dramatic cut into the Catoctin metabasalts of Mount Marshall. Three levels of sheer cliffs defined the western wall of the canyon; the Stairs themselves were filled with small cliffs, huge boulders, dense brush, and a number of tumbling waterfalls visible from above. The terrain was so extremely rugged that it seemed reasonable that it would've been the perfect hideout for a moonshiner or even an atypically large devil.

View of the falls at the head of the canyon from the overlook

The view beyond the canyon was equally impressive: in the distance, we could see the tall peaks of the park's Central District, including Mary's Rock, Stony Man, and Old Rag. Closer in, we noticed a green, grassy clearing just outside the park boundary that seemed oddly out of place amidst the grey winter ridges.

How did the Big Devils Stairs form? How did this stream manage to cut a canyon that is more topographically astonishing than just about any other canyon in the park? My friend and I wondered these things as we gazed at the canyon. As my friend was an aspiring geologist, we began tossing around ideas: could this canyon have occurred due to faulting? Or perhaps due to some intrusion- an igneous dike- into the surrounding Catoctin formation? My friend looked briefly for evidence of either hypothesis; he noticed more heavily metamorphosed Catoctin basalts that would have been consistent with the idea of faulting but was ultimately unable to conclude much from looking at exposed outcrops. A cursory search after our hike yielded few answers; if you happen to know more about the canyon's geology I'd love to hear from you!

The next two to three hundred yards of trail were thrilling. The path hugged the canyon rim, allowing for many views of the commanding cliffs of the western canyon and of the stream below. After reaching a final viewpoint at the top of an outcrop with a sheer drop down to the stream below, the trail turned slightly left back into the forest. I would advise hikers without routefinding and scrambling experience to turn back here; this turn in the trail marked the end of the hike to the Big Devil Stairs overlook.

Big Devil Stairs, Central District peaks in the distance

After leaving the canyon rim, the trail became much more difficult to follow: the lack of hikers visiting the lower reaches of this trail left the path poorly tread through the layer of dessicated autumn foliage. The blue blazes that had earlier been visible at regular intervals were now sparse, but we still managed to find our way down. We did find the trail to be a tad too gentle at time, taking its time to switchback down slopes that it could very reasonably have descended directly. After a good period of switchbacking downhill, the trail cut to the right and brought us to the stream at the mouth of the canyon, which was just inside the park boundary.

In the past, visitors used to access this canyon from outside the park; however, the current owners of the adjacent property aren't as friendly to hikers, so be sure to stay within the park boundary. Yellow no trespassing signs marked the edge of federal land; if you stay on the trail you'll stay in the park. The trail reached the side of the stream before disappearing. If you don't know what you're doing, this is the point to turn around: you can still follow the trail 3.5 miles back up to the trailhead.

My friend and I followed the stream upriver into the canyon. There was no discernable path through the canyon, even though an established path had existed there four or five decades ago. It's useless to describe the canyon scramble in detail: anyone who can't navigate their way through the canyon doesn't belong there in the first place.  We had to cross the stream at least a half-dozen times, climbed over or ducked under dozens of fallen trees, whacked our way through thick brush while avoiding getting poked by thistles and thorns, and scrambled up many steep talus slopes and through some rocky chutes. Along the way, we passed towering cliffs, found a small cave, and saw dozens of small cascades on the bubbling stream. An hour and a half of pulling ourselves up rocks and rockhopping on precarious footholds across the stream brought us to the base of the tallest waterfall in the canyon, a pretty single-stream drop. We lunched here before scrambling over the last set of rocks to exit the most spectacular part of the canyon.

Small cave on the east side of the canyon

Waterfall in canyon

Big Devils Stairs

Waterfalls in the canyon

Waterfalls in the upper portion of the canyon

Waterfall at the head of Big Devils Stairs

Past the waterfall, the brush grew ever-denser. After following the stream for a little while longer, we realized that the walls of the canyon had more or less ended: we were now in more of a stream gully and were no longer hemmed in by cliffs into a narrow canyon. Reasoning that the brush ahead of us along the stream would remain bad, we chose to leave the stream and bushwhack uphill and a point at which we could tell that there were no true obstacle cliffs between our location and ridgeline to the east, which we had followed on the Big Devils Stairs trail. We cut through mountain laurel and other underbrush up to the ridge and met back up with the trail, which we followed back uphill to the junction with the Bluff Trail.

The cliffs and dense brush in the Big Devils Stairs

Back on the Bluff Trail, we turned left and followed the Bluff Trail for a mile and a half back to the junctions with the Harris Hollow Trail and the connector trail we had come from in the morning. Instead of returning the way we came, we followed the yellow-blazed Bluff Trail to its end at its junction with the Gravels Spring Hut access fire road. From this junction, we could spot the Gravel Springs Hut, so we walked the final few yards over to the overnight shelter for Appalachian Trail hikers. The hut is one of many along the AT in Shenandoah and offers shelters to AT thru-hikers and other backpackers in the area during the warmer months. On our visit, the hut was understandably empty. We flipped through the hut's visitor log, reading the ramblings of hikers nearly a thousand miles into a journey of over two thousand miles.

Gravel Springs Hut

From the hut, we followed the fire road back uphill to the trailhead. I stopped briefly at Hogback Overlook to see the late day sun paint the bends of the Shenandoah River and Massanutten Mountain before leaving my Blue Ridge for Fredericksburg and a return to the sunless days of Seattle.

Hazel Falls and White Rocks

Hazel Falls (Cave Falls)

9 miles loop, 2000 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Moderate, but bushwhacking and scrambling necessary to reach the views at White Rocks
Access: Trailhead off Skyline Drive (paved road), Shenandoah National Park entrance fee required

Here's a loop that offers a little bit of everything: a serving of history, a small waterfall, and for those who are up for it, a dab of bushwhacking enroute to a nice view. Hazel Country is a unique corner of Shenandoah: once of the more heavily settled areas of the park, it's now one of the more rarely visited areas, despite being just a stone's throw from US 211 and the Thornton Gap Entrance. Hazel Falls is the only location on this loop that gets a fair share of visitors: once you follow the trail out to the White Rocks and up along a stream in the shadow of Hazel Mountain, you enter some rarely visited terrain, shared only with the ha'nts of Hazel Country's past. The loop is moderate at its easiest but potentially more difficult during times of high water, as crossing the Hazel River is necessary.

I hiked this trail on a crisp, clear December day that marked my first return to the park in nearly two years, my longest absence from the park since age 12. I made my way out to the park from Fredericksburg on Route 3 west through Culpeper; turned right onto Main Street, drove through downtown Culpeper, then made a left onto US 522, which I followed to Sperryville. At Sperryville, I made a right turn immediately after entering the town to stay on 522 and then made a left at the junction with US 211 to head towards Thornton Gap. At the gap, I followed Skyline Drive south briefly to the parking area for Meadow Spring and Buck Hollow on the left (east) side of the drive near mile 34.

From the trailhead, I followed the yellow-blazed Hazel Mountain Trail downhill. The below-freezing temperatures of the night before had elevated the surface of the trail with needle ice, making the ground crunchy beneath my boots.

Needle ice

I passed by the trail down Buck Ridge about a half mile into the hike. At that junction, I stayed on the Hazel Mountain Trail. Soon enough, the rounded, forested top of Hazel Mountain itself was visible through the trees due to the lack of foliage. In another mile, I came to the junction with the White Rocks Trail. Here, I took the left fork and began to follow the White Rocks Trail, which wound through the forest for a bit before finding its way onto a forested ridge decked with mountain laurel.

After a mile of hiking on the White Rocks Trail, I came to the junction with the trail down to Hazel Falls and the cave. This spur trail, which headed south from the ridge down to the Hazel River, was the steepest part of the hike. Although only a fifth of a mile long, the spur trail quickly dropped almost 200 feet along a series of stone steps down to the side of the Hazel River, then followed the Hazel River briefly upstream past some small cascades to the falls and the cave.

Hazel Falls is also known as Cave Falls, due to its vicinity to a small cave near the Hazel River. The cave is interesting to briefly check out but is quite small. Anyone expecting Luray Caverns will be sorely disappointed: this cave is perhaps ten feet deep and can be explored thoroughly without a flashlight. Unlike Luray and Grand Caverns, the cave at Hazel Falls is not made of limestone, thus making it incapable of forming the great karst underground landscapes.

Inside the cave

Hazel Falls is just past the cave. This is a small waterfall, less than 20 feet tall, but the drop is pretty and fairly photogenic. A few icicles still hung off the sides of the rock walls near the waterfall: the sheltered position of the falls had prevented sunlight from reaching it for most of the day.

Hazel Falls

Many hikers visit Hazel Falls as a day hike and then return directly to the trailhead. A much better option for those with a bit more stamina and decent experience with river crossings and bushwhacking is to continue onwards along the White Rocks Trail and then to return via the Hazel River and Hazel Mountain Trails.

Just past the junction with the trail to Hazel Falls, the White Rocks Trail passes the first set of rock outcrops, which lie far right of the trail and offer no views. The trail then descends to a saddle before visiting a series of four small summits. The first summit has no real views to speak of: I could see through the trees to Mary's Rock and Oventop at points, but these views would be obscured by foliage in summer. While approaching the second summit, I could already tell there would be better views: to the left of the trail, there was a small clearing with lower vegetation. While the views from the trails were still poor, there was less dense foliage obscuring the peaks here than from the first summit.

The best views, however, weren't on the trail. To the right of the trail, just short of the second summit, I could make out a set of fairly prominent rocks separated from the trail itself by an abundance of underbrush. At no point did I see a noticeable path through the underbrush, so at the far end of the set of rocks (the eastern end), I bushwhacked through the thorns and laurel until I reached the rocks; circling around the rocks, I found one spot where an easy scramble brought me to the top of the White Rocks.

The views were fairly remarkable when I considered the fact that most other hike descriptions rate this hike as having little or no views. The summit of the rocks offered a clear view from Hazel Mountain to Oventop, encompassing the summits of the Pinnacle, Mary's Rock, and Pass Mountain in between.

Mary's Rock and the Pinnacle from White Rocks

From the top of the White Rocks, I noticed a few more granite outcrops facing south, projecting over the hollow of the Hazel River. I bushwhacked a few yards over to those rocks and found a nice view of Hazel Country and the Piedmont.

View of Hazel Country from White Rocks

The third bump along the White Rocks ridge provided the only decent view along the trail itself. From the top of this bump, a few rocks on the left side of the trail provided a peek of Oventop, Mt. Marshall, the Peak, and the Piedmont around Sperryville.

Piedmont and the Peak

I crossed a last hump along the White Rocks Ridge before descending to a deep saddle in the ridge and then beginning a steep descent down the west side of the ridge. This portion of the trail was often quite slippery due to the copious amount of fallen leaves that remained. The leaves across the trail remained uncompacted, suggesting that few hikers ventured to this point along the White Rocks Trail. When I reached the bottom of the descent, I met up again with the Hazel River, which at this point was a substantially stronger and wider stream.

Hazel River

Crossing this river was slightly difficult but would have been much more so if I had not brought poles: the flow was strong enough that rock-hopping was not an option and the day was cold enough that fording by crossing through the river would be unpleasant as well. A narrow and slightly rotten log had been positioned to allow hikers to cross; however, the log was a bit slippery, making crossing on the log nonideal. Luckily, I was able to cross without getting wet by supporting myself across the log with my poles. On the other side, I met pole-less hikers trying to cross the other direction, who were the first other people I had seen that day since leaving the trailhead.

After crossing the river, I continued following the White Rocks, which now paralleled the Hazel River. In a few hundred yards, the trail crossed over a small feeder stream and then came to a junction with the Hazel River Trail. I followed the Hazel River Trail to the right rather than the left, which took me away from rather than towards the river.

The Hazel River trail began a steady but never steep ascent through a small hollow under the shadow of Hazel Mountain. The trail was very clearly a road built and used by the mountain folk who lived in Hazel Country: it was quite wide and had extremely sturdy rock work in many spots. After a short period of ascent, I followed the trail across the stream in this hollow. A little ways past the the stream crossing, I noticed a chimney in a small flat spot below the trail to the left. I left the trail and bushwhacked my way about half a hundred meters or so over to the remnants of a former cabin in Hazel Country.

In his guide to the park, Henry Heatwole described Hazel Country as a somewhat lawless and rough area. It's certainly much more quiet now. Saplings have taken root in the foundations of this homesite, sprouting where perhaps there once lived a mountaineer family, raising hogs and farming the steep slopes of the hollow. This homesite- along with the other former homesites in the park- has been abandoned for at least 80 years, since the park was established following the condemnation of the inhabitants of these hollows.

Former cabin off the Hazel River Trail

The remainder of the hike was fairly uneventful. The Hazel River Trail climbed out of the stream valley onto the upper slopes of Hazel Mountain, crossing a small saddle and passing through dense thickets of mountain laurel before descending to join the Hazel Mountain Trail. Most of the climb along this hike occurred between the junction of the White Rocks and Hazel River trails and the saddle on Hazel Mountain on the Hazel River Trail. Along the way, I met PATC members clearing some recent deadfall on the trail. At the junction with the Hazel Mountain Trail, I headed right, returning towards the trailhead.

The Hazel Mountain Trail was once a road as well and passed through an area frequented by former hollow folk; today, there are few traces of that history along this segment of trail. The trail crossed the Hazel River again, this time a much easier crossing at an upstream point along the river. Around this time, I ran into the group of hikers I had earlier met crossing the Hazel River on the White Rocks Trail: they were hiking the loop the other direction and had started from a trailhead off of Route 600 at the base of the Blue Ridge.

Looking at a map of my hike afterward, it appears that around this point I also passed a junction with the Catlett Mountain Connector Trail. This trail junction must have been somewhat easy to overlook as I blew straight past it without realizing its existence; luckily, I stayed on the Hazel Mountain Trail. I passed through quite a bit of mountain laurel along this part of the hike.

Mountain laurel on Hazel Mountain

After a final stream crossing, the Hazel Mountain Trail rejoined with the White Rocks Trail. From here, I hiked back along the way that I came that morning and ascended the final mile and a half back to the trailhead.

This is an enjoyable hike, but recommended only to those who are already fairly familiar with the park and want to explore some of its smaller pleasures. There are better views, more photogenic waterfalls, and better preserved homesites in this park. However, if you'd like to see Mary's Rock from a unique angle and to check out a tiny cave and gaze at a small cascade, this hike provides a good opportunity to do so. Other online hike descriptions recommend tackling this hike counterclockwise, rather than the clockwise description I've offered you. I think clockwise makes a little more sense: clockwise allows you to visit the more scenic spots of the hike earlier in your hike, making it less likely that one would run out of time to visit certain spots after having allotted too much time to earlier parts of the hike. Winter is a good season to attempt this hike if you plan to do any of the described bushwhacking, as the lack of foliage makes going through underbrush much easier.

Lewis Falls

Lewis Falls- a photo from my first hike in Shenandoah

2 miles round trip, 790 feet elevation gain

Difficulty: Easy-Moderate

Access: Trailhead off Skyline Drive (paved road), Shenandoah National Park entrance fee required

On a very muggy August day in 2003, I hiked from the Big Meadows Campground down to Lewis Falls and back via the 3.3-mile loop: it was the first trail I ever hiked in Shenandoah National Park. It was almost 10 years until I came back, this time on a shorter out-and-back route.

Lewis Falls is one of the park's tallest waterfalls, but in my opinion is one of its least pretty. This is partly because there are few good viewpoints of the falls; more precisely, there's one viewpoint of the falls and it's getting a bit overgrown. This also partly because there's rarely a good flow here; the falls are a little too high up on the mountain and drainage basins tend to be smaller on the western side of the Blue Ridge, anyway. However, it's still worth the hike, especially if you've been to many of the park's other waterfalls. The trail is all downhill on the way in, so if you're not accustomed to hiking, you might want to make sure you can return before you go down. I remember finding the hike up quite tiring when I was in middle school.

Manjima and I did this hike together on our way to Charlottesville in May. We entered the park from US 211 at Thornton Gap and took Skyline Drive south to Big Meadows. We parked in a small parking lot with four spots to the right of Skyline Drive just pass the turnoff for the gas station at Big Meadows. We backtracked slightly by foot along Skyline Drive to the fire road and trailhead for our hike.

The beginning of the hike was a descent down the fire road for a quarter of a mile to a junction with the Appalachian Trail. We went straight at the junction. Soon, the wide fire road narrowed into a trail, which kept descending through the very pretty and bright green spring Shenandoah forest.

Spring on the trail

Along the way, we saw plenty of spring wildflowers, including clusters of moss phlox and a few beautiful pink trillium once we were closer to the falls.

Phlox

Trillium

There's not much to comment on about the trail itself, which makes a straightforward forested descent to just above the falls. The last section involved a few switchbacks, which might make coming back up a little more difficult. Just before reaching the falls, the trail came to a rock outcrop with a very pretty view into the rumpled collection of hills to the west, with Massanutten Mountain in the background. In a way, this view of Devil's Tanyard and Tanner's Ridge covers one of the most remote parts of the park. Although these mountains are right next to populated areas in Shenandoah Valley, the mountains themselves are rarely visited since they're far from Skyline Drive. I've had a difficult time even finding information on boundary access points in those mountains.

View towards Massanutten Mountain and Devil's Tanyard

From here, we connected onto a spur trail that led to the falls themselves. The trail made a small stream crossing before following fairly close to the side of the top of the rocky walls to the falls viewpoint. From here, we could see the top half of the waterfall, which plunges 80 feet. Henry Heatwole's earliest guide to the park mentioned a way of getting to the foot of the falls, but I found no viable routes near the viewpoint; if anyone is aware of a path that leads down, I'd be grateful if you pass it on.

Lewis Falls

We returned the way we came, uphill.