Mill Mt., Halfmoon Mt., Long Mt. Linkup - 27 Miles
June 29th, 2011
One weekend hardly seems long enough for a meaningful outdoor experience, but this weekend my friend Joe and I found real solitude on a 27 mile hike through some of the richest wilderness I’ve yet seen in the state of Virginia. Our lengthy route circumnavigated the valley you see above, which is known as Trout Run Valley.
Our hike started at the Wolf Gap campsite near the little farm town of Woodstock, VA. After a relatively short drive from the capital area, just shy of two hours, we parked near the latrines and quickly walked past bleary-eyed campers to find the trail head.
Right off the bat, we walked straight up the side of Big Schloss Mountain on not-yet-warm legs, and emerged panting on the narrow ridge of this perfect Appalachian mountaintop. Both slopes fell away to either side of the narrow footpath, revealing stunning views of the surrounding countryside. The sky was gray and patchy, which seemed especially ominous considering we had both left our rain gear in the car to stay light and fast on the trail. We shrugged it off, reasoning that being wet on a quick overnight hike was better than spending another day at home on the couch reading a book.
As we made our way north along the blueberry-spotted ridge the ecosystem gradually transitioned from classic Virginia hardwood to a dense Rhododendron riot near the intersection of the Tuscarora Trail. We passed several trickling springs and a few other hikers, and found ourselves on the blue blazed mega-trail with memories of the morning still lingering. It was just past noon when we made the march to Halfmoon mountain.
The Tuscarora Trail is a 250-mile saunter that deviates from the national Appalachian Trail in Shenandoah Park to run raggedly through some of the most remote terrain in the Mid-Atlantic. It has only recently been completed but perhaps will never gain the level of prim perfection that makes the AT shine for so many hikers. Snaking its way around private property, highways, and other such nuisances, the Tuscarora Trail is a hidden gem, and a good alternative for ambitious hikers looking for a challenge apart from the AT.
Our time on the Tuscarora Trail was all too brief, and after a short rest near the summit of Halfmoon we descended into the Trout Run Valley.
We joined the excellent Bucktail Trail blazed in easy to spot pink as it climbed and fell through grassy meadows and wooded thickets to emerge near the road at Trout Run. I made a mental note to check out the fishing potential of this perfect little stream while I filled up my two-liter water container and scrutinized the map and stretched my sore legs.
“Hmm. Looks like a hellacious climb!”
Straight up a merciless ridge hike, we climbed the side of Long Mountain, dreaming of a quiet camp site and an end to the miles. No end in sight, though, we trudged on along the Long Mountain Trail.
It was quiet here, and perfectly green. We walked past several wide grassy clearings bursting with weeds and wildflowers. ‘Such lovely quiet,’ I thought to myself, moments before a shrill whistle was heard down the trail. It was a solo hiker, with a look of great shock and concern on his face. I assumed he was looking for his lost dog, but instead he gave us a warning as he blew past.
“I’ve seen five black bears on this trail! Make as much noise as you can to scare them off, try to talk loudly!’ he uttered hurriedly in passing.
Joe and I looked at each other and pressed ahead, clapping our hands and whistling away the unseen bears. There must have been at least a hundred dark shapes in the trees just beyond the trail edge that looked like bears but were harmless tree-stumps and rocks. We never did see a real one, but the evidence of their existence was everywhere in the form of footprints in the mud along the path.
Night was just on the tips of the trees when we arrived exhausted at a perfect camping place in the woods not too much farther along. We set camp and stretched out as the long shadows of night grew into perfect darkness and summer quiet. All through the night, deer and other critters snuck past my hammock where it hung lazily between two trees on the clearing’s edge.
In the morning Joe retrieved the food bag hanging just out of reach on the other side of the field while I snoozed. We were on the trail before too long, sore as hell but happy to be moving again.
A painful afternoon of climbing found us picking our way up a narrow footpath on the side of Long mountain, and strolling down a beautiful deserted Forest Road. It was nearly noon when we put our boots to the final long climb of Tibbet Knob: a perfect rocky outcrop that afforded a fine view of the entire valley we had circled. It seemed an unreal accomplishment; Halfmoon Mountain was hazy and distant, like the wispy peaks of a Michelangelo painting receding gracefully into the horizon. It was hard to believe that we had travelled so far, but our legs and feet made it clear that we were nearly finished.
After a stumbling, cursing descent down to Wolf Gap we slumped into the car and made our way to the nearest bar (not far as it turns out: Christina’s Cafe in Strasburg!) Over beers and big plates we recounted the adventure and remembered wistfully only the best parts of our trip. One thing was certain: going back to the city would require at least one more round.















