The hike to Stevens Lakes itsn’t particularly hard, but it’s no walk in the park either. It’s about 2.5 miles and 1700 feet of vertical gain to the upper lake on a well-used and well-mantained trail. It starts off relatively steep and continues to climb steadily for the next mile before levelling out briefly as the trail emerges from a beautiful forest into an open basin surrounded by walls several hundred feet high. Just atop the headwall, 350 feet up, is the first lake, and Willow Creek drains from Lower Stevens Lake to drop over this ledge with a series of amazing waterfalls. It is at the bottom of this drop that the trail crosses the creek to start the mighty ascent and final approach to the lake. The old trail used to route you straight up the incline, but a new trail routes you along a series of switchbacks across a talus field, but on this July day, we were crossing a fairly significant snow field. As the trail came back with the old route, the final switchbacks were also snow covered, but the snow was soft and kicking steps was quite easy. We passed a view of the upper waterfall, a beautiful 30-40 ft. drop, before levelling out atop the wall. It was not long before the lake came into view along with a seriese of campsites along the northern shore.

I was surprised to see so much snow at sub-6000 foot elevations this late into July, but the upper lake, only a few hundred feet higher, was still mostly frozen over. There was a warm sun, cool breeze, and not a sound from the developed world despite the close proximity to a major interstate. We had only hiked in a little over 2 miles at this point, but it felt like the middle of the wilderness. I was also surprised at how pristine the forest was on this hike. The land closer to the interstate had been logged, and is still being used for timber harvesting, yet the Stevens Lake trail saw none of it. Along with the snow, it was still early spring up there. The Glacier Lillies, Trillium, and Forget-me-nots were in bloom all over the place, and on the lower sections of the trail, I finally saw some Beargrass in full bloom.

Stevens Lakes are a popular camping spot, and it’s not hard to see why. It’s so relaxing with beautiful scenery but not a huge effort to get there. On this day, there were at least 3 groups camping for the night. There are also a handful of sites by the upper lake, but they were stilI  burried under a couple feet of snow. In a few weeks, I may have to return and continue my hike up to Stevens Peak, an easy bushwhack to the ridge and a jaunt to the summit. I braved the snow and made it up to the upper lake for a few shots before turning back and descending to the car.

We finished the day with a dinner in Wallace.

There are many of these alpine lakes all over the mountains of the west. Many of them require long and strenuous hikes, but the reward is often worth it. But for families and non-hikers, the trip can be intimidating. Some of these lakes are accessible by car, but when you drive into one of these basins, you lose some of the magic and serenity. Some of the hikes are easy and require a difficult drive over primitive roads to start your hike in the high country. What makes Stevens Lakes so appealing is that it is easy to get to, right off of I-90, and the hike can be made for all levels. If you’re in shape, you can easily make it to the lakes in an hour and then continue up the ridges. If you’re slower, you can take all the time you want because it’s only 2 miles in. It’s a great way to spend a summer day and get to some great scenery.

View the Photo Album from this hike.

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The celebration of our nation’s independence is a custom dating back all the way to the day the Continental Congress approved and signed the Declaration of Independence. The use of fireworks to celebrate the momentous and historic occasion also dates back to that time. As John Adams wrote to his wife:

“The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.”

Adams’ reference to the second of July marks the day that the Continental Congress approved a measure to declare independence. The official document, was signed two days later. Regardless, the founding fathers had visions that for years to come, that day would be memorialized with great celebration including the beloved fireworks display we have come to enjoy.

But while most people were celebrating America by blowing a part of it up, I chose a much more solemn way to pay tribute to this great country. We often remember our historical heritage during these days, but we sometimes forget about our natural heritage. On this day, I visited a grove of trees so old, they were standing tall long before the European settlers ever set foot upon the continent. These trees are a testament to the persistence of nature to thrive against the rugged challenges thrown at it. These trees have survived centuries of fire, drought, snow, and winds. And after all of the beatings, the trees still stand only to be taken down in mere hours by the hand of man.

There are few old-growth virgin timber stands left in the United States. When the settlers arrived, they quickly chopped down the forests for farm land, wood, and security. After all, much of Europe’s forests had already been decimated before the Americas were colonized, and the wilderness was a scary and dangerous place. But it also provided raw materials and natural resources with which to create new products and amass wealth. When the West was finally settled, the forests, with their big trees, were quickly taken advantage of. Fortunately, a few of the industrialists and businessmen who were responsible for the massive destruction of the landscape also recognized the importance of preserving some of it for generations to come. And for whatever reason, whether it be inaccessibility or the sheer awe struck by the people who saw them, some of these stands of forest were spared the wrath of the timber and mining industries and preserved for us to see today.

My 4th of July trip took me to the Hobo Cedar Grove and Botanical Area near the town of Clarkia, Idaho. The trees here aren’t the largest, but the forest is impressive. The one-mile walk through this patch of old-growth forest is enough to make you forget that you drove through a clear-cut to get there. At 4500 feet, it’s a great place to beat the heat. Temperatures on the Palouse were over 80 at mid-day, yet when I pulled into the parking area, the air was a pleasant 72. There is a picnic area and restroom at the trailhead, and a one-mile loop through some of the most beautiful forest I have ever seen. There is a shorter interpretive nature trail as well. The trail is well-maintained, though there were several downed trees across the path at this time. I suspect the maintenance occurs later in the summer. The drive to the grove is very scenic as well. From Clarkia, you drive along Merry Creek and then ascend into the mountains. While you do drive through a section of clear-cut forest, the clear-cut does open up views of the mountains to the west.

There are lots of other things to do in the area as well. You can continue driving to the St. Joe River, or take another turn back in Clarkia and head up to Freezeout Saddle. As of a few weeks ago, the road was drivable almost to the Grandfather Mountain trailhead. I imagine that if the road isn’t clear now, it will be in a week or two. Back down in Clarkia, you can search for fossils at the Fossil Bowl or head to the Emerald Creek Garnet Area, one of only two places in the world where you can find star garnets.

I am thankful that somebody had the foresight to preserve and protect the awesome beauty and splendor of our natural heritage, leaving us with great places for recreation and study. Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, I did partake in the explosive celebrations later in the evening.

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The Upper Basin Trail is a 5 mile loop in the upper basin of Elk Creek just north of Elk River The trail is near the giant western red cedar, thought to be the largest tree in the U.S. east of the Sierra-Cascade crest. The loop is also near the Morris Cedar Grove, another grove of large old-growth red cedar. unfortunately, the road to the Morris Grove was closed and blocked off on Saturday.

If you’re looking for a difficult challenge, the Upper Basin loop is not for you. The trail was built as an interpretative trail with markers along the way. The markers are just numbers and likely correspond to a brochure to carry with you, but there were no brochures to be found at the parking area. The trail itself is quite easy. The total elevation gain is about 400 feet and much of the trail runs along an old railroad grade which is flat and soft.

The trail is scenic, but don’t come looking for grand vistas or picturesque stream scenes. Instead, it winds through some of the typical ecosystems in the area: logged forest (regrowth), marshes, meadows, and some more mature forest. I suspect that hiking this trail early in the morning would provide plenty of wildlife sightings. I passed numerous evidence of moose and elk and a few scat piles that may belong to wolf. This is definitely a trail that the whole family could enjoy and it seems to receive little use compared to the Elk River Falls and the Giant Tree, so it’s also a good way to escape the crowds. To get to the trailhead, travel to the town of Elk River, Idaho (Rt. 8 East from Moscow), turn left onto N. Front Street and stay straight on this road. It will eventually turn into a gravel road. At the fork, take the right Fork onto Forest Service Road 382 toward Upper Basin. In about 8 miles, turn Left onto a short spur that leads to the trailhead and parking area.
GPS coordinates: N46 53.075, W116 09.674
Clearwater National Forest trail #747

About 2 miles beyond is the giant Western Red Cedar. This tree is thought to be the largest tree east of the Cascades and Sierras. It measures 18 feet in diameter at breast height and measures 177 feet tall. It is estimated to be about 3000 years old. This short walk through an old-growth cedar grove is short and mostly handicap accessible, though not 100%. There is also a bathroom at the parking area. If you’re in the area, a trip to the tree is worth the visit.

This story begins with Luke and I itching to get out into the backcountry. Although it’s the middle of June, the combination of an unusually cold and wet Spring with the very productive winter has left many of the high country destinations (above 5000 ft.) still buried under 100+ inches of snow in places. And even some of the lower areas are still blocked with impassible snow drifts on the road. This makes our options quite limited.

The one place we’re sure to have access is Hells Canyon. With the river averaging 1200 ft. in between slopes that exceed 7000 feet, Hells Canyon is the deepest canyon in the United States. The Snake River cut a 200-mile ravine through a basalt plateau forming the western border of Idaho with Oregon. At under 1500 feet in elevation, the Snake River itself rarely sees snow and is warm enough for backpacking as early as March and as late as November. However, to get into the canyon, one must either float in from the town of Oxbow, OR or drive along windy roads over the 4500 ft. Pittsburg Saddle and down to Pittsburg Landing. While the road is plowed in the winter, the journey may still be treacherous to the casual traveler.

It is from Pittsburg Landing that we begin our hike. Our original plan had us hiking 31 miles in 3 days, ascending over 4000 feet out of the canyon from Kirkwood Ranch to Sawpit Saddle, and then returning to the Snake River via Sheep Creek on a trail that hasn’t been maintained in decades. It would have been an ambitious start to the hiking season. But we were unable to take 3 days for this, so we decided to tone it down and just stick to the Idaho Snake River Trail for about 10 miles or so, and hike back out the next day.

We began our hike huffing and puffing in the heat of mid-day. For a river trail, the Snake River Trail sure covers a lot of elevation gain. At our highest, I think we were 300 feet above the river.

Kirkwood Ranch is 5.5 miles south from the trail head. It was a working sheep farm back in the day, though as isolated as it is, it must have been tough living. Today, the ranch is a museum and ranger station. There’s also a backcountry campground on the old hayfield, though it offers such cushy amenities as flush toilets. We had planned to stop at Kirkwood for a late lunch break and then keep going, but we found out that the trail had been washed out less than a mile beyond and was rendered impassible. In fact, the “crowd” set up at the campground was mostly a trial crew in for a few weeks to repair the trail.

We had two options: We could take a detour, which entailed bushwhacking up and over a 2000-foot ridge to get back to the trail and keep going, or camp at Kirkwood and explore the area without packs. As we were already exhausted, the thought of climbing a steep incline with no trail and heavy packs only to be repeated the next day was not appealing. We found a spot, made camp, and went exploring.

Our destination Saturday evening was up the Kirkwood Trail, an ATV road that eventually led out of the canyon. We weren’t going that far, we headed up about a mile to Carter Mansion, and then up the hill looking for a vantage point. We were told that the views at the top of the ridge were first-rate, but the ascent would take about 3 hours. Tired and exhausted, we opted for a lower goal, a tree atop one of the landings on the way up. We made it within 200 vertical feet of the tree when Matt and I gave up and rested on a rock while Luke made way for the summit. When he returned, Matt decided to make a go for it. And when he returned, I felt as though I had to make my push for the top. So we all individually made it to our goal and then made our way back to camp for dinner.

I slept better than I had in a long while. I think we all did. We awoke refreshed and energetic with our eyes set on another high point just across the field from camp. It was a longer, and steeper climb, but we were rested and ready to go. We made it to the top, what was our top. The ridge kept going up. But from our “summit,” 1300 feet above camp, we had a glorious view over the Snake River. When we woke up and started, the skies were grey and overcast. It had actually rained during the night. But as we climbed that last push for the summit, the clouds broke and the sun came out.

Bushwhacking up a steep slope is actually the easy part. Coming back down is when there are more chances for injury. We took it slow and careful and eventually made it down to camp in one piece, though we were hurting. We rested, made lunch, refilled water, soaked our feet in the cold stream and packed up camp. Because we had made that climb, we set ourselves up to hike out in the heat of the afternoon, and there was no shortage of heat. The car read 83 degrees when we finally arrived back at the trailhead. The hike back wasn’t nearly as bad as the hike in, but we were still tired from the morning’s climb and it felt good to be back at the car.

The events that cut our trip short ended up making this a great first trip for the season. The summer temperatures in the canyon will make hiking along the river unbearable for the rest of the season, but we’ll have some chances to explore the high country as the snow melts and roads become accessible. Hells Canyon is a marvel of nature and worth a visit. The scenery is big and awe inspiring, and certainly humbling.

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I made my very first appearance in the state of Oregon over the weekend. I’m impressed and hooked.

Oregon is a very pretty state, and I didn’t even get to see very much of it. My Oregon experience took me to a little known section in the northeastern corner, the Eagle Cap Wilderness Area in the Wallowa Mountains.

I went with two other grad students in the department for an overnight trip to Mirror Lake in the heart of the wilderness area. We left Friday night just as the sun was setting and drove pretty much all of the drive in the dark. Thus we had no idea what we were driving through when the road became extremely twisty dropping in elevation and then rising back up. I knew there was a canyon to cross, but it wasn’t until we returned on Sunday that we could see just what it was. We stopped for a late dinner at Subway in Enterprise and car camped at a site off of Lostine River Road.

From the trailhead at the end of Lostine River Road, the hike was 7.5 miles gaining 2000 feet to the lake at 7600 feet above sea level. We gained 3/4 of the elevation in the first three miles. The next three miles were bliss, a flat trail through an open meadow wandering down a glacial U-shaped valley. It was here that we caught our first glimpse of our destination. Eagle Cap, the 9575 ft. summit, looms in the distance, but our lake lies right at its base. It is a magnificent sight.

The hike to Mirror Lake is one of the most popular in the Wallowas. The trail is well defined from heavy use and campsites were quickly taken, but there are tons of camping options so finding a place to sleep wasn’t too difficult.

We relaxed, explored the lake, and watched the sunset before making dinner and retiring to our tents for the night. Because the area is so far removed from any major cities and towns, the sky was dark and full of stars. I attempted to capture the sky before heading off to bed.

I woke up the next morning just as the light was gathering, bundled up and headed to the lakeside with my camera. I set up to catch the morning alpenglow as the pink light illuminated the summit of Eagle Cap. It was glorious.

We returned the way we came, nixing the loop over the ridge to the next lake and down the neighboring valley back to the car. I hope to return to make it to the summit of Ealge Cap and explore more of this heaven on earth.

This weekend, Erin and I set out for our first hike together in Idaho and we made our first summit together on Grandmother Mountain. The hike to Grandmother Mountain begins high up in the St. Joe National Forest 12 miles out of Clarkia. The entire hike is above 5500 feet, which was a neat considering all of our hiking in the East (so far) was under 5500 feet.*

Grandmother Mountain is an easy two-mile one-way along a high sub-alpine ridge with forest mixed with meadow. The summit stands at 6369 feet above sea level and offers a spectacular view over the St. Joe river valley, though the approach to the summit offers spectacular views in all other directions. Add another two miles to get to Grandfather Mountain at 6306 feet. We intended to get to Grandfather Mountain, but got a late start and were slowed down by a sweet surprise along the way. Nevertheless, whether you do the 8-mile or the 4-mile hike, this is a really awesome place to spend a day.

Fall comes early in the high elevations of the northwest. The huckleberry and many other bushes are already displaying their bright colors. But, to our great surprise, the huckleberry bushes still had a plethora of ripe berries to forage upon. The berries up there are small, but pack a punch. Erin likes them better than our blueberries on the Appalachian ridges. On the way back, we stopped in the saddle to enjoy the sunshine and collect about a cup of berries to take home and bake with.

* I’ve hiked above 6000 in New Hampshire and Tennessee/North Carolina, but not with Erin. While Mount Rogers tops out around 5700 ft, we’ve never actually gone to the summit. White Top summit and Thomas Knob/Wilburn Ridge are around 5500ft.

I’ve now been in Idaho for almost three weeks and I’m starting to get settled into my new home. Later I will post about the property and the abundant wildlife that make our place so special.

But today, I write about a local hiking opportunity just over a mile down the road in the town of Deary. I have a theory that all cities and towns have an overlook, a spot from which you can stand and look down upon the population center. Sometimes these overlooks are only a few feet above the town itself. Sometimes they are man-made structures. But in mountainous and hilly regions, the overlook is most certainly a natural feature seen from the town itself. Of course there are many exceptions to this rule, but I find in most of the places I’ve been that the rule stands strong. In some cases, you can simply drive up to the overlook. In others, you can hike. And in rare circumstances, you have to bushwhack or even tresspass on private property to get there.

Deary is no exception to the rule. Just behind the town to the north stands a hill a thousand feet above with a break in the trees and some cliffs on the summit. When I first drove through Deary in February, I wondered if the land was public property and if there was a way to the top. I now revel in the fact that the answer to both questions is “yes.”

The trail up Potato Hill is designated a restricted use road available for all modes of transportation except automobile. So I was expecting to pass a few people on ATV’s or even horseback, but during my hike today, I passed only one person, and he was hiking with his dog just like I was.

It’s two miles and about 1200 vertical feet from the town center in Deary. About half way up, the road ends at a communication tower and the trail becomes, well, more trail-like. In fact, there was hardly any signs of recent ATV use, so I suppose most people hike to the summit if many people go up there at all. The trail winds through an mix of open forest and grassy meadow and has a great prospect for wildlife sightings. As you increase in elevation, the slope becomes steeper and the forest becomes denser, when suddenly the forest breaks altogether and a series of cliffs open up a view over the Palouse. The hike is pretty mellow until the last jaunt to the summit where the trail turns straight up and becomes populated with loose rock.

Nevertheless, the view from the summit is exquisite. The town of Deary, population 500-something, lies just below to the South. Beyond is the mix of forest and field of the eastern Palouse. To the West, you gaze upon Moscow Mountain and watch as the Palouse suddenly ends with a series of canyons off in the distance. Below, but out of sight, is the Clearwater River and the city of Lewiston. To the east, mountains rise and get bigger with each layer.

This is a short hike, easily achieved in less than half a day, but nice to have so close to home. And yes, there are bigger mountains with taller views, those will be explored in due time. But this looks to be my go-to hike when I’m too busy to go farther afield.

In the fall, I visited West Virginia’s Dolly Sods with my parents. The foliage on the blueberry bushes was amazing, but the trees had not yet turned. I was planning to return a week later to backpack through the wilderness area during its peak foliage, but my car broke down and I was unable to make the journey. So I decided I’d make a spring visit instead.

So, a week and a half ago, I did just that. I got together with Charlie (uvagolfer), another hiker and photographer I met on Flickr, and we did a one-night backpacking trip into the heart of the Dolly Sods Wilderness. We planned a route to cover all imaginable terrain, the northern high country along Blackbird Knob, the scenic views of Rocky Point, and the waterfalls and river terrain of the bottom of Red Creek.

Our initial plan was to hike in from Red Creek Campground along the Blackbird Knob trail, turn down the Red Creek Trail and camp behind the rocks at Rocky Point, then head up Big Stonecoal Creek and return the whole length of the Blackbird Knob Trail. But we had to change our plan when we found no suitable camping at Rocky Point. In fact, when we got to Rocky Point, we couldn’t find the cliffs initially. The trail comes out on a talus slope offering a small view over Stonecoal gorge, but nothing spectacular. On our way out, we found an unofficial side trail blazed with cairns and decided to follow it. Sure enough, it led to the top of an amazing rock outcropping showing off views up and down Red Creek Canyon. We had the evening light to shoot, but had to return to the trail before it got too dark.

When we reached the intersection of the Rocky Point and Big Stonecoal Run trails and had to make a decision: head upstream a little bit where the terrain flattens out and there might be a campsite at the stream crossing, or head down a steep 1.2 mile trail to Red Creek where we knew there was a campsite. We chose to go up, and it’s a good thing we did. Almost immediately after the intersection, we found the big waterfall on Big Stonecoal Run and had some time to shoot some long exposures in the dark light. We found an awesome campsite among the spruce forest next to the stream.

The next morning, we had to decide wither to continue on our planned route, or head down to Red Creek and circle back up the Red Creek Trail. It was a gray and cloudy day, and there were supposed to be more waterfalls below us. Had it been sunny, the scenic views and meadows would have been a better option, but we chose to go down and were not disappointed. We hit two more nice cascades on Big Stonecoal Run before hitting Red Creek. There were two gorgeous waterfalls on some side tributaries on the Red Creek Trail, and two more small, but wide drops on Red Creek itself. So, what should have taken us a few hours to hike ended up taking all day. We returned to the car just as the evening light was fading away.

There are some really awesome campsites in the Dolly Sods, some big enough to be called campgrounds. The first we came to was an island on Red Creek along the Blackbird Knob Trail. The island was mostly flat and grassy with a small patch of hemlock and spruce. Surrounded by water, it would have been a very serene place to stay. The second was at the confluence of Left Fork and Red Creek. Here, and area was cleared and grassy with room for lots of tents. In fact, a big group was using it that night. That site was probably once a homestead or a mining camp as there was once a railroad bed leading to it. The third big site was at the confluence of Big Stonecoal Run and Red Creek, another grassy area with 4 fire pits and lots of space to pitch tents. Of course there were some smaller, more private sites along the trails as well.

The Dolly Sods is possibly one of the most beautiful spot in the mid-atlantic, easily topping anything Virginia has, except maybe Mount Rogers. But the terrain and scenery at the Dolly Sods wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for its land use history. Regardless, the protection of this land as a wilderness area makes it a great reason to visit West Virginia. There are some other spots in the Monongahela that I hope to get to before I leave, but time is limited.

This past weekend, my mom came to Luray to visit me. We spent Saturday in town at the annual Festival of Spring. Main Street is shut down to traffic and the stores and other vendors set up shop on the street. We spent a good deal of time at the wine tasting area, where there ten or so local wineries set up with their products to taste. I tried everything. There were your traditional wines, Chardonet, Merlot, Shiraz, etc. And there were some new ones, wines made from fruits other than grapes, one made with hot peppers, and even a wine made with chocolate.

The other highlight of the day was the dog frisbee competition. Sandy entered Bizzy, who just couldn’t compete with the seasoned veterans. They did win 2nd in the free-style event. I didn’t even bother to enter Shadow. She was uninterested in the discs, but she was happy to watch all the other dogs.

Sunday, we went for a hike in the national park. I chose a nice 7-mile loop over Hazeltop, then down to Rapidan Camp and back to Skyline Drive. It was a bit cold out, but the weather was perfect. Spring had just hit the upper elevations, and many trees still had yet to produce their leaves. There were lots of Large-flowered Trillium and Wood Anemone along the Appalachian Trail. On the Laurel Prong Trail, we ran into a patch of Pink Lady’s Slippers, and later we found the elusive Showy Orchid.

Rapidan Camp was Herbert Hoover’s version of Camp David, a Presidential retreat to get away from the hustle and bustle of Washington, D.C. The camp is located at the confluence of the Laurel Prong and Mill Prong where they form the Rapidan River. All that remains are the Brown House (president’s house), the Prime Minister’s Cabin for distinguished guests, and the Creel Cabin, currently used to occupy park service staff. There are exhibits set up in the other two buildings, but neither were open at the time. We did sit on the back porch of the Brown House to eat lunch and enjoy the relaxing atmosphere of the camp. We returned back to Skyline Drive by way of the Mill Prong Trail, stopping at Big Rock Falls for a photography break.

It’s great to have my camera back. Two weeks ago, I bent a pin in the card slot which rendered the camera useless. After speaking with Canon support, I packed up the body and shipped it off to the nearest repair facility. It left FedEx that Monday and arrived at Canon on Wednesday. I authorized the repair and it was fixed on Thursday and shipped back on Friday. I received my camera on Friday. While I’m not happy to shell out the expense of fixing my equipment, I am very pleased at the speed and helpfulness of Canon’s support and repair.

In the weekend I didn’t have my camera, I hiked up Old Rag in Shenandoah National Park, which has the best views around. I brought my old EOS 3 and a roll of Kodak E100GX with me. Two weeks later, I still haven’t gotten the roll developed. Of course, it doesn’t help that I forgot to bring it to Maryland with me this weekend.

Monday and Tuesday we were on an overnight canoe trip with the most gorgeous weather. I left my camera behind until I get a good dry box to port my gear in. But Tuesday evening, I headed into the park to find the big falls on Overall Run. The 93 foot waterfall is the highest in Shenandoah National Park, but it also tends to run nearly dry in the summer. A few weeks ago, the falls would have been raging, but the peak Spring greenery made this week the perfect time to look for the falls.

I found it easy enough. After 3 miles of down-hill, the trail opens up atop a cliff with a great view of the valley and a great view of the Big Falls. There are a few other notable cascades before the big plunge and I’m sure there are some more after. At the bottom of the mountain, Overall Run has a nice water slide and swimming hole, easily accessible by the Thompson Hollow Trail.

I’m glad I have my camera back and I’ll surely be careful not to damage it again. There are so many places left in the area that I wish to visit, and my time is dwindling before I leave Virginia for Idaho.

I got up early this morning to hike before the heat of the day. I would have liked to have gotten up earlier to be at the summit for that early light, but I enjoyed what I got.

I arrived at my trailhead by 8:00 and reached the summit of Duncan Knob a little after 10 and I had the trail and the rocks to myself. I basked in the sunshine and enjoyed the view for almost an hour before heading back. When I got back on the Gap Creek Trail, I heard voices. I had to do a double take, but sure enough, there were people heading up. I guess I got there and left at the right time. Two pair of people passed me, and my perception of solitude was shattered. Oh well, they were headed up and I was headed down, I could still have the rest of the hike to myself, right?

For the most part, that was true. But as I drew nearer to the parking area, I passed a lone backpacker and then a group of 3 women and another family of 3. But by that time, I was minutes from the car. I guess I wasn’t the only one who thought Easter was a good day to take a hike.