Early Morning on the Mountain

On Sunday I woke up determined to get out and hike. After over 2 months of pain from a trapped sciatic nerve, my chiropractor visits had worked wonders and I could now hopefully pound the trail without even a twinge.  It was incredible to leave the house and within 10 minutes be hiking on a trail in the Shenandoah Park. I started walking before 7:30 and well before the suburbites and city dwellers would enter the park. My hands were thrust deep into my pockets as it was still cold, the early sun trying to punch its way through the fog. I trudged through brown pine needles and soggy leaves, slipping occasionally on the mud that the previous day's rain had left. But it felt great.

I came across what looked like a small camp site on the side of the path, but the fire ring had been set up but hadn't been used. Fires aren't allowed in the park anyway, leaving me to wonder if someone had staged this little scene for a photo. I didn't stand for too long pondering on this, the cold was biting my nose and occasionally gusts of wind rattled bare branches above me. Water bubbled and bounced along a creek alongside the trail, tendrils of fog lifting like steam from a bath.

The trail was sodden, the mud and leaves reminding me of soggy cornflakes. Rivulets streamed down alongside and across the path, my footsteps making muddy splashes up my legs. Flooded culverts gushes occasionally under the path, yesterday's rain was making its way down the mountain and there was a lot of it.

The rain had accentuated the colors in the forest, the green mosses and clumps of grass looking vibrant and saturated with color against the grey and browns of the forest floor. I saw a couple of trees with damaged trunks, caused by deer or bears, but the only wildlife I saw were grey squirrels, who constantly ran across in front of me or up trees, looking chubby and healthy with their winter fat.

There were still patches of snow in ditches and under ledges of stone walls, or tucked between the roots of trees but as I climbed higher these disappeared. The sun peeked over the mountain tops as I climbed to the ridge, then suddenly I was cast in the golden morning light and immediately felt the warmth of its rays. I was amazed at how quickly I had reached the Skyline Drive road and stood for a couple of minutes, amazed that there were no other humans about. No sound of traffic at all, making me wonder if the park was closed, and then thinking how lucky I was to live here and be able to access the park on foot. I crossed over the road to resume climbing up the mountain, the silence broken only by a few birds and more chunky squirrels that dashed for cover as I approached them.

Now most of the leaves had fallen I could see through the bare branches to my new home below. Front Royal seemed quiet, nestled among the foothills, while thick white fog draped across the higher mountain slopes. The trail was even more sodden up here and I smiled as I spotted a fresh bear track that had slipped in the mud and then just a few feet further I saw a deer track that had suffered the same fate. and then it was my turn, one foot skidded from under me but I managed to prevent myself from tumbling down. After climbing for a few more minutes I decided to turn around. The trail was so precarious that I was more worried about coming back down and loosing my footing than trying to continue on up the hill. I gingerly made my way back down to the road and again stood there, listening to the silence and relishing the moment.

As I walked back down the mountain, the trail streaked ahead of me like a silver ribbon, the wet carpet of leaves illuminated and shining so brightly that sometimes I had to squint. Blue sky had now appeared with a few fluffs of wispy clouds floating above, and the sun felt warm. I even considered taking off my jacket but as I made my way down to the creek the temperature dropped dramatically.

As I neared the bottom I heard voices and looking up I saw a huge group of hikers thundering towards me, chattering incessantly and marching as though on patrol. Bright colored jackets and trekking poles flashed past, a few Good mornings' were hailed, and then they had past. But almost immediately, another smaller group approached, followed by yet another large group. A good 40 or so people had passed me in a matter of 5 minutes. Once again I was so thankful that I'd been fortunate enough to start my hike early, those groups had likely been driving at least for 90 minutes to get here. They could only be here for the exercise routine as their racket would most definitely scare any wildlife away.
The fog had almost completely evaporated as I walked alone again once more back to the car. The sun was now high enough to reach the valley floor, the grasses and lichens bright emerald in the morning rays. I was surprised to discover that I'd hiked 5.5 miles without any discomfort. 5 minutes later I was in my kitchen cooking breakfast and planning my next mountain walk.