Garden Club of America Grove

Redwoods near Canoe Creek in Garden Club of America Grove

3 miles round trip, 400 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Moderate, some route-finding and bushwhacking necessary
Access: Paved road to trailhead, no fee required

The Garden Club of America Grove is a sprawling section of skyscraping coast redwoods on the west bank of the Eel River in California's Humboldt Redwoods State Park. The grove is infrequently visited in this otherwise fairly popular park, partially due to its location across the Eel River from the Avenue of the Giants and partially due to the fact that much of the grove is fairly lackluster compared to the more impressive alluvial flat forests along Bull Creek and the east shore of the Eel River. While much of the trail-accessible portions of Garden Club of America Grove are less spectacular than surrounding areas in the Humboldt Redwoods, there is one noteworthy grove of soaring redwoods on the alluvial flat where Canoe Creek flows into the Eel River that is today only reachable via some bushwhacking along a decomissioned trail. Most visitors will find other groves to be easier to access with few of the challenges of visiting the Garden Club of America Grove, but hikers who have spent time in the park already and want to see a secluded and seldom-visited old growth grove may want to consider this hike. 

The Garden Club of America Grove is only accessible during summer months, when a footbridge is erected over the Eel River. In winter, there is no bridge crossing of the river and the water level and current of the river are typically too strong to allow for safe fording. Check before going to make sure that the bridge across the Eel River is up.

To get to the trailhead from Highway 101, take Exit 656 for Myers Flat and then follow the Avenue of the Giants north for just over two miles to the turnoff on the left (west side of the road) for the Garden Club of America Grove parking area. The signage is clear when turning onto the spur road but the signs don't clearly face the Avenue of the Giants, so it is necessary to pay attention on the approach. The turnoff led to a cul-de-sac with ill-defined parking and some picnic tables; I parked here.

The hike to the Garden Club of America Grove started on the west side of the parking area, at the edge of the forest close to the river; a sign at the trailhead points towards the "GCA Grove." The trail started by dropping slightly downhill from the alluvial flat of the forest down to a gravel bar alongside the South Fork Eel River. Following cairns, I headed left (south) upon reaching the gravel bar and reached a seasonal footbridge over the Eel River about a hundred meters from the trailhead. Water levels in the Eel River become much higher in the rainy winter and spring seasons; at those times, the footbridge is removed and the river is impassable, making this hike inaccessible.

Footbridge over the Eel River

I crossed over the bridge, admiring the 300-foot tall towering trees rising above each bank of the Eel River. Once across the bridge, a clear trail led uphill from the gravel bar on the west bank of the river, gaining about a hundred feet of elevation in a brief but steep uphill climb that ended in a junction with the River Trail, which is the main trail running along the South Fork Eel River's west bank.

No signage for the Garden Club of America Grove adorned the signage at the junction with the River Trail, which indicated that Canoe Creek was to the north and the Childrens Forest lay to the south. That's because this entire side of the river is the Garden Club of America Grove: covering such a large area, the disparate parts of the grove thus have uneven scenery quality. While the hike's main destination was the grove at Canoe Creek to the north, I started out the hike by dipping south (heading left at the junction) to visit a pretty grove of medium-sized redwoods just beyond the junction.

Fire-scarred redwoods along the River Trail

The redwoods in this part of the GCA Grove made up the second nicest cluster of redwoods on this hike after the Canoe Creek Grove. Groundcover was sparser than the more famous alluvial flat groves, making this grove a bit browner and barer. Fire scars from the 2003 Canoe Fire on the trunks of the redwoods also contributed to this grove feeling somewhat less lush than the typical Humboldt Redwoods forest. I followed the River Trail for about 200 meters south from the access trail junction, crossing two small wooden bridges as I hiked through the nicest stretch of redwoods here; I turned back when the forest thinned and returned to the junction. 

Redwoods in the first grove near the Eel River crossing

Returning to the junction with the access trail, I then began following the River Trail north towards the redwoods of Canoe Creek Flat. The trail ascended gently through a fairly open forest in this stretch until it rounded a corner into the Canoe Creek watershed and began heading west; the trail contoured on hilly slopes, staying above the forest that filled the alluvial flat below.

Prior to the 2003 Canoe Fire, the River Trail traveled through an impressive old growth alluvial flat grove at the mouth of Canoe Creek, which formed the primary attraction of the Garden Club of America Grove. In the aftermath of the fire, the trail was rerouted to cross Canoe Creek further upstream, detouring around the best stretch of forest. Today, the trail trace down to the Canoe Creek grove has become completely swallowed by vegetation when approached from the south, but the northern approach, while overgrown, can still be followed by hikers with good trail-finding and navigation skills and descends into the heart of the grove.

At a half mile north from the River Trail/GCA Grove access trail junction, the trail dropped steeply into the Canoe Creek alluvial flat, where there was a pretty old-growth stretch of forest; while nice, this was not quite as impressive as the off-trail portion I would visit later.

Redwoods in the alluvial flat near the crossing over Canoe Creek

After crossing the alluvial flat, the River Trail descended to a bridge-assisted crossing over Canoe Creek. The bridge looked similar in construction to the seasonal bridges over the Eel River, so it's likely that this bridge is removed in winter as well.

Seasonal footbridge over Canoe Creek

After crossing Canoe Creek, I followed the River Trail back uphill through about 120 feet of elevation gain as the trail skirted the slopes above Canoe Creek Flat. A mile after leaving the River Trail/GCA Grove access trail junction, I came to another junction: the Grasshopper Trail headed uphill to the left while the River Trail continued straight. Here, an unmarked path to the right led downhill towards Canoe Creek: this was the abandoned trail through Canoe Creek Flat's grove.

I followed the abandoned trail downhill. Despite little use for nearly two decades, the path is still faintly visible and while it is a bit brushy and overgrown with quite a bit of deadfall to climb over, experienced hikers will be able to follow it. The old path led all the way down to the alluvial flat below, where it faded out at the foot of a great old-growth grove.

Canoe Creek redwoods

The redwoods in this alluvial flat were the most spectacular to be found in the Garden Club of America Grove. Here, thick-girthed redwood trunks soared skyward. Redwood sorrel and ferns covered the ground. The understory of the grove was actually not particularly open- many young trees and bushes, including a few redwoods that had only sprouted after the fire, crowded the forest floor. Nonetheless, this small and contained grove was still impressive and beautiful.

Fire scars from the Canoe Fire

The Garden Club of America, a national organization comprised of member garden clubs from around the country, played an integral role in the preservation of the Humboldt Redwoods region. During the Great Depression, the organization raised about a hundred thousand dollars from its members to help the Save the Redwoods League purchase old growth forests in the Eel River watershed to contribute to Humboldt Redwoods State Park. As an expression of gratitude, Save the Redwoods League named a 5000-acre section of old growth forest on the west bank of the Eel River after the club. Grove dedications continue to be a primary strategy through which the Save the Redwoods League is today able to garner large individual contributions.

Soaring redwoods above Canoe Creek alluvial flat

In September 2003, a lightning strike on the west bank of the South Fork Eel River in the Garden of America Grove set off the Canoe Fire, which consumed 10,000 acres of forest in Humboldt Redwoods State Park from the riverbank up to the summit of Grasshopper Peak, the highest point in the park. The fire scorched areas of old growth redwood forest but was particularly brutal on upland forests that were more heavily dotted with Douglas firs. The alluvial flat and riverside redwood forests survived with largely superficial damage, although some trees in the Canoe Creek flat had freshly blackened goosepens reaching fifty feet up that resulted from their heartwood being consumed by fire. 

Canoe Creek redwoods

As redwood forests typically occur in areas too moist to support intense fires, the Canoe Fire was the most major fire to affect an old growth redwood forest in modern California history until the far more intensely destructive CZU Lightning Complex conflagration that torched the redwoods of Big Basin State Park in the Santa Cruz Mountains during the summer of 2020. While redwoods do not face the same degree of risk from fire that threatens their giant sequoia cousins in the Sierra Nevada, the Canoe Fire and the CZU Lightning Complex Fire have opened a window into the destruction that fire can have on old growth redwood forests when a century of fire suppression policies are coupled with a warmer and drier climate.

Massive goosepen left by the Canoe Fire

After enjoying the silence of this grove- I did not see any other hikers on this September weekend afternoon after crossing the Eel River- I retraced my steps along the abandoned path uphill to return to the River Trail, which I followed back to the bridge over the Eel. This was a lovely and quiet grove; however, it's not my top recommendation for visitors with limited time in the park. Although more crowded, the Founders Grove and Rockefeller Forest area, as well as the Grieg-French-Bell and Drury-Chaney Groves, are still the top spots to go for an old-growth experience in the Humboldt Redwoods; save the Garden Club of America Grove and its quiet beauty for a second visit.

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.

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.

Lands Run Falls

Lands Run Falls (Upper falls)

1.4 miles round trip, 400 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Moderate, due to short-segment of off-trail hiking
Access: Trailhead off Skyline Drive (paved road), Shenandoah National Park entrance fee required

Henry Heatwole's Guide to Shenandoah National Park gave this hike a mediocre review; however, I found this very short hike to be fairly rewarding. As there's a bit of bushwhacking at the end, what you see on this hike will depend partly on far you're willing to go off trail, and your prior hiking experience. I wouldn't do this as a first hike- the end of the hike goes off-trail- but if you've done some hiking in Shenandoah before, this could be a fun short hike to do and see a pretty waterfall that's hidden in plain sight. The waterfall isn't as towering as South River Falls or as graceful as Doyles River and Rose River Falls, but it is an enjoyable spot to visit. I would recommend doing in this hike in winter and spring; since the falls are halfway up Compton Peak, I expect that they would run dry in late summer and fall. Bushwhacking down to the falls would also become less pleasant between April and October, so I'd recommend a December to March time frame for this hike.

For DC area residents, Lands Run Falls is probably the easiest waterfall to get to in Shenandoah National Park. The trailhead is just over a 15 minute drive from the North Entrance to the park, not far from I-66. I did this hike on a sunny, fairly warm December day with my family, leaving Fredericksburg and taking US 522 to Front Royal. If you're coming from Northern Virginia, it's about an hour drive west on I-66 from Tysons Corner to the North Entrance on US 340. We entered the park and took Skyline Drive 9 miles south to the unmarked trailhead at Lands Run Gap. You'll have to look carefully for this trailhead, as it's unmarked: it's less than a mile before Compton Gap, so once you've gotten to the parking area for Fort Windham Rocks and Compton Peak, you've gone too far. You'll see the ridge coming down to meet the drive at the trailhead, with a small parking area to the right of the road. To check whether you're in the right place, make sure that the concrete post on the fire road next to the parking area says "Lands Run Fire Road."

From the parking area, we followed the wide Lands Run Fire Road gently downhill. The road passed through a winter forest that had a few fairly large and pretty trees. This fire road was just one of the many mountain roads that used to criscross the Blue Ridge before the advent of the park; this particular road once ran up from Browntown Valley and crossed Lands Run Gap before descending into Hickerson Hollow. When the park was established, only the Thornton Gap and Swift Run Gap crossings were made available to motor vehicle crossings.

Lands Run Fire Road

The fire road descent made just one switchback, a little over a half mile from Lands Run Gap, before coming to Lands Run, a small creek tumbling the side of Compton Peak. The road continued downhill from this point, but we stopped here to begin the bushwhack portion of the hike. Just before the point where the trail crossed the creek, we found a faint unmarked path leading to the right, downhill from the road. We followed this path, which quickly faded away into the forest. At this point, the falls were audible: they were just downhill of the point where the trail crossed the river. We swung a wide right arc to descend to the foot of the top falls. Some points here are steep and fallen leaves may make it slippery- so take care, and maybe bring hiking poles if you aren't used to steeper descents.

We scrambled all the way down to the very foot of the top drop, which cascades about 20 feet into a small pool. A bit of ice adorned the rocks in the cascade: the past few days had been very cold (with temperatures down to 10 degrees Fahrenheit), but that particular day temperatures had warmed up quite a bit and most of the ice around the falls had melted off. This set of falls was just the highest of a long string of cascades: the run continued to make more small drops as it continued down a narrow gorge. I would recommend most hikers to turn around after seeing the first falls, which are the most worthwhile to see, anyway.

Lands Run Falls

Near the first falls, there is a small rock outcrop, entirely surrounded by forest, that gives a tiny sliver of a view out into Browntown and Page Valleys. It's a pretty view, but you'll see much better when you're driving in along Skyline Drive.

View into Browntown Valley

If you're very familiar with the park and off-trail hiking, it's a fun excursion to continue downhill to see the other cascades in the gorge. The run drops about 100 feet total between the fire road and the point at which it flattens out at the canyon bottom. The terrain is fairly steep and uneven, but I found two more pretty drops when I made my way to the bottom.

Icy Lands Run Falls (lower portion)

Lands Run Falls (lowest portion)

After seeing the lower falls, I made my way back up; we retraced our steps uphill back to the fire road and 15 minutes later made our way back uphill to the trailhead.