West Virginia: North Fork Mountain Trail

Last week I embarked on a backpacking trek through the Monongahela National Forest with my brother, Shane. We had been planning this journey to West Virginia for over a month and anxiously awaited the day we'd travel from our respective states to meet up. Me from Maryland and Shane from Kentucky. The hard part had been trying to determine a half-way point that wouldn't require one of us to drive 2/3 the total distance. That said, Shane drew the short straw since most of the state and national forests in WV are located closer to the east! This trip had given my brother and me a topic to discuss during our many phone calls. In all honesty, the trip was very easily planned and logistics absurdly simple, but that didn't hold us back from talking about details of the trip ad nauseam. Despite being raised in the same household and growing up doing basically the same things outdoors, Shane and I have developed a separate set of idiosyncrasies when it comes to backpacking. For one, Shane's a hammock guy! While I have definitely seen my fair share of hammocks in the outdoors and gazed upon the countless, tightly rolled ENO bundles at my local REI, I have never taken the plunge. I might be a little old school, but I can't quite get away from my tent. Once set up, my tent is like a home in the woods to shelter my stuff from inclement weather. Perhaps I'm just too attached to it, I guess. That said, I do own a hammock (Merry Christmas from Shane!) and can attest to it's unparalleled sleeping comfort compared to anything that lies on the ground. Still yet, I rib my brother about the tasty morsel he becomes when delightfully wrapped in his "bear burrito"! Apart from our separate sleeping systems, we diverge further on our choice in food stuffs. I bring dehydrated, prepackaged meals (i.e. just add water), whereas Shane plans and packs a culinary assortment to be braised over a fire or camp stove. While waiting on my pot to boil, Shane is merrily composing his cavalcade of fireside delicacies - usually including dessert! I guess you could say I'm more of a minimalist in this regard but I have to hand it to Shane; his meals usually smell more appealing during the cooking process! All in all, our methods might be different but each has it's merits. I believe choosing one method over the other is simply a matter of personal preference and can be changed a multitude of ways to match the personality of the camper. It's funny, really. Getting to know what's inside someone's backpack is like getting to know the person. It's contents reflect the creature comforts and priorities valued by it's owner. Hmmm, wonder what my rucksack says about me?

The Plan:

The plan had been to park a vehicle on either end of the North Fork Mountain Trail and hike south to north along the 24 mile ridge-line. While hiking, we expected to see some of the most beautiful vistas offered by the region that we had long read about - and the reason we chose this destination. If you have any ambition of hiking this trail yourself, beware: there is only one water-source along the entire trail! The water-source is a spring located 12 miles from either end of the trail. So bring plenty of water. Knowing this we each packed extra water and attempted to ration accordingly. Carrying extra water really adds weight to the pack so we tried to find a balance. In other words, if the spring had been dry, we probably would have been in trouble! Luckily there was rain in the forecast so we were not that worried.

Day 1:

The first day promised great weather and a chance to get familiar with the lay of the land. We parked the first vehicle at the north trail head and proceeded south to stop by Seneca Rocks. Along the way there were numerous spines of rock protruding from the hill-sides along the hollows and tight-valley farms. A generous river supplied water to these farms and local shop-keepers offered canoe rentals as well as guided tours of nearby caverns. All in all, there was no shortage of geographical wonders to behold! But we were there with a somewhat singular purpose: North Fork Mountain Trail.

After parking at the foot of Seneca Rocks and looking up, Shane and I were amazed at the size and scale of the monolith. At just over 900 ft from stream to peak, this hunk of tuscarora quartzite boasts over a dozen climbing routes rated up to a 5.13a! While hiking around the east face trail, we noticed several rock climbers ascending and descending the southern face. At that moment, I really wished I had my gear (as well as experience trad-climbing since there are no fixed anchors!). Unfortunately, it was a pipe-dream then and now but it certainly served as an encouragement to take a lead-climbing class.

Making our way up the east face trail, Shane and I stopped to snap a few photos. The day was gorgeous and everything about the mountain was perfect. Once arriving at the top, we disregarded the cautionary signage telling of the 16 climbers that have died since 1971, and made our way to the summit. There is plenty of width to the relatively narrow spine of the summit. However, it probably isn't a great destination for those who experience vertigo. Seneca Rocks has claimed many lives in the past quarter-century, most recently a 49 year old rock climber named Ruth Stine who tragically fell to her death in 2008. It's safe to say that Seneca Rocks has seen it's fair share of tragedy and anyone willing to climb her many pitches need be prepared and ready for the risks.

From the summit, the valley was amazing. It felt sacred or like hallowed ground. Three mountain hollows converged to form an intersection at the base of the cliffs. Pictures really do it no justice and to experience the full effect you must see it for yourself. After looking east to the valleys we turned our attention west to the ridge-line overlooking our perch. There stood North Fork Mountain and the trail we'd soon be hiking, nearly 3,700 ft above us...

Before nightfall, we drove along RT 33 until we crested the hilltop marking the southern trail head. We looked for parking but there really wasn't any. No one else was around and the likely candidate for parking spots lay along the narrow roadside of a blind, hairpin turn. Shane, who drives a RAM 1500 was concerned to say the least, but had no trouble backing his full-size truck as tightly as possible into the apex of the switchback. We no more than stepped out from the vehicle when the forest ranger pulled up behind us! With a cordial introduction he inquired as to whether we were coming or going. Wanting to comply 100% we told him we had just arrived and intended to overnight on the trail. He was amazingly helpful and told us to park to the side of the road near the guard-rail on the east side of the mountain near a farm-gate. That way, we wouldn't get towed and no one would file any complaints. We were grateful! His advice helped us rest assured we'd come back in 3 days and Shane's truck would still be there (and it was!).

There are a couple signs posted on gates and trees warning that much of the trail on the southern end runs along privately owned land. I'm not sure why this is the case since the trail runs along protected  land in the Monongahela National Forest (Teddy Roosevelt would NOT be pleased!). Besides, the terrain is too rocky to be considered beneficial from an agricultural stand-point and the ridge too narrow for any practical use. Nevertheless, for the first 3 miles landowners have taken to painting trees with red paint and posting signs saying not to camp on private property. On the other hand, these landowners permit hiking but restrict hunting and bikes. I can't really complain since these private owners seem practical and have the interest of the ecosystem in mind (very honorable!).

Shane and I hiked through the private land, being mindful to respect the land and it's owners, and set up camp around mile 3. We were bushed but happy. It was time for vittles and sleep: me in my tent and Shane in his burrito!

Day 2:

We awoke to a deluge. The forecast promised rain and the usual climate of April in mid-Appalachia. We had 10 miles to cover and it was first-thing first: breakfast and camp breakdown. While I entertained oatmeal and raisins with peanuts, Shane was hard at work mastering his backwoods culinary skills. I didn't look very hard at his concoction (for fear my breakfast would seem too meager) and honestly do not remember what he ate. It was probably truffle poached eggs and smoked salmon on toast... probably.

After packing up camp, we embarked on our journey. It was wet. In fact, it rained all day. We wouldn't see any reprieve until tomorrow, so we adorned our rain-jackets and slogged, one foot in from of the other, to the spat-sounds of water drops on our jackets.

While the trail was descending on average, from time to time it climbed and this would require Shane and me to take a break. It was during our first break that I realized, while I was perfectly dry and comfortable in my hooded Mammut rain-jacket, Shane had left his detachable hood at home.... We both knew this would lead to lacking comfort (more-so Shane's realization and reality than mine) but that there was no real danger as temperatures were too warm to warrant hyperthermia. So Shane pushed on, without so much as a complaint (or jeer at my half-hearted mocking)!

After many miles we crossed an old gas-line and followed a fire road all the way to our campsite. We had not seen anyone the whole day and it was looking like we wouldn't cross paths with anyone throughout the whole trek. We made camp and found the fresh-water spring where we replenished our water supply. A fire seemed like a good idea so we built one. Despite the rain, we really didn't have much trouble. To ensure our success, Shane brought a flask of lamp oil that we'd use sparingly to get things started. Soon after, we were warming our hands and settling down for a hot meal and sleep. We developed a set routine and our bed-time came early: around 8:30 to 9pm. Just before bed it was apparent that Shane might be dealing with some chaffing (rough!). The remedy for his malady was with his rain-jacket hood... in Kentucky. Again, there were no verbal complaints and he somehow made do with supplies from his first-aid kit (ALWAYS BRING A FIRST AID KIT!).

Day 3:

We awoke on day 3 to dense, thick-as-pea-soup fog. Like the rain from the previous day, it was relentless throughout our entire hike that day. After breakfast and camp-breakdown (everything was wet...), Shane jousted some blisters (he is flat-footed and I can't imagine the adversity he undergoes during 10+ mile stints under the weight of a rucksack) and away we went. ...only we didn't travel too fast. The trail was very difficult to see because the fog made everything impossible to see outside a 20ft radius. Keeping an attentive eye, we maintained the trail under foot and set out for another 10 mile day.

Along the trail we encountered the local wildlife. On occasion we heard wild fluttering and caught a mere glimpse of a winged animal cutting through the brush at break-neck speed. Shane and I discussed the possibility that this was too large to be anything but an owl or red-tailed hawk. The color wasn't right for a hawk, so we were rather stumped. This happened time and time again, but we continued on...

As we neared the halfway point of our prescribed distance that day, we set aside our packs and sat on the ground, leaning against a fallen, moss-covered tree. I rummaged through my pack until I found my gorp. I steadily shoveled peanuts and field corn in my gob before catching eyes with Shane... who had brought fruit-snacks and Oreos. I felt like a feral person two-handing twigs-and-berries down my gullet when I looked on Shane's civilized assortments of candy-crudités. - I seem to remember him nibbling his nosh with his pinky aloft. - After seeing my pitiful expression, he politely offered me a fruit snack which I eagerly snatched and consumed like a squirrel perched on a branch. It was only day 3 and the fabric of my civility was thread-bare.

Courtesy of "Giant Troll"

It must have been my lucky day, because a few miles later Shane and I ran across lute left behind by a trail-fairy. For those of you who aren't familiar with this term, trail fairies refer to fellow hikers who leave behind consumables on long trails where supplies are sparse. In this case, it was a JIF jar filled with Easter candy hanging from a tree. A label on the inside of the jar indicated it was left by "Huge Troll". This is a trail handle - or name - taken by avid hiker usually when thru-hiking a major trail system like the Appalachian Trail. I'm usually cautious and do not partake of gifts left behind by trail-fairies. However, I pilfered a chocolate egg and left the remaining bounty for other hikers.

That evening, the rain resumed. I had just pitched my tent in time to shelter myself from the impending thunderstorm. To his misfortune, Shane opted for a bathroom break and made it back just in time to hang his hammock in the rain. I offered to help but there was really not much I could do but get in the way. So I watched Shane from the shelter of my tent and decided I would keep warm by getting supper underway (the temperature was dropping). At this point I donned my down-jacket and began boiling water with my gas stove in the vestibule of my tent. I wouldn't normally do this, but the thunderstorm wasn't showing any signs of letting up. Shane was warmly tucked away in his hammock by the time my food was ready. I looked through the split of my vestibule to see the rain had stopped. The thunderstorm must have passed. There was still distant booms of thunder but there were also clear signs of sun rays bursting through the clouds.

I grabbed my bag of rehydrated chicken, dumplings, and gravy along with my water bottle and walked up to the crag of rocks no more than 50 ft away. Where before there was nothing visible but a vast void of fog, now there was an expansive view of the Germany Valley immersed in low-lying clouds. The fog along the ridge-line had disappeared and opened up one of the best scenic overlooks we'd seen thus far. I couldn't help myself, so I called down to Shane to come take a look. Of course, he was in the midst of preparing his supper but I assured him he would want to come see while the weather permitted. While I waited, I hung my feet over the tallest crag I could find and ate my meal. It was surreal. It was magical. It was the reason I take to the outdoors!

Later that night I was startled awake by a thunderstorm moving through. Needless to say I was concerned since we were atop the ridge and lightning was striking all around. As I lay, counting seconds between lightning and thunder I couldn't help but grin. I was equally exhilarated and soaked in the thrill. While there was a chance for real danger, I can't say I was truly aware of it. At one point the lightning and thunder cracked together; too fast to acknowledge until after the fact. It was too close for comfort but there was nothing else to do. Let come what may - in the mean time I was going to enjoy every minute of it!

Day 4:

The day had come that we would hike the remaining 2-3 miles then drive home. Dawn broke with a breathtaking sunrise. I soaked it in but it didn't last long before the fog returned. As we broke camp, Shane was eager to get back home to his family. I can't blame him, really. He has 3 beautiful kids and a 4th on the way. They are ridiculously cute and anyone who has met them will tell you the same. Besides, Shane had managed to add a few blisters each day which he jousted and medicated every morning and night and I believe his thoughts of sustaining this routine were unwelcome. I'm sure it was a combination of flat-feet, foot-ware, and the overly rocky trail, but Shane had to have been in sincere pain. But true to his nature, he never complained. Not once!

We hiked down toward the northern trail head when we came across an interesting sign. The cliffs along North Fork Mountain were protected and off-limits to hikers! Apparently, North Fork Mountain was a long-time nesting ground for the endangered Peregrin Falcon. Amazing! I honestly had no idea. I had never even seen a Peregrin Falcom before. Well, actually I think I have. Every time Shane and I heard the fluttering of giant wings cutting through the brush and caught a glimpse of the massive birds taking flight, it was undoubtedly the Peregrin Falcon. This wasn't confirmed until we arrived back to my vehicle and started on our way back to the southern trail head to pick up Shane's truck. Alight on a limb over RT33 stood the great Peregrin Falcon. I was in disbelief! It was a giant bird with very distinct coloring. As we approached I slowed my speed to take a longer look. As I did, he took to the air and craned his neck to take one last look before ascending vertical beyond my sight. It was a great send-off from a wonderful trip. I am very happy I got the chance to share it with my brother.

Lets do it again sometime!