Icebound Cascades at Whitoak Canyon

New Year's Day was another day with the temperatures well below freezing. I wanted to see frozen waterfalls on a hike but decided to leave the house a little later than last Saturday, hoping a couple of hours later would mean a few degrees warmer. I left about 10:30, wrapped in layers, but still feeling the biting cold trying to inch its way in between the folds of fabric.
With the car heater on fall blast and my hand warmers activated in my gloves I drove out towards White Oak Canyon. It was a beautiful day, the sun was making a valiant effort to warm things up but the winds ensured that the low temperatures remained victorious. As I drove I was buffeted from side to side by the gales as they swept across Rte 211 and was glad to finally turn off on to the more sheltered country roads. For a few miles I crossed creeks and twisted around corners, spotting a house called 'Chateau Debris' that lived up to its name and therefore wasn't photoworthy. I was amazed to arrive at the parking lot and find it almost full. So there were plenty of other foolhardy folks like me, determined to climb some altitude to check out some ice. Wrapping my scarf over my nose and mouth, pulling my hat down over my ears and tugging on my gloves I started off on my hike.

 Soon I was walking alongside the Robinson River which weaved among the trees silently under its mantle of white ice. I passed 6 solitary men hikers who all stopped to talk about the trail and were all equally enthusiastic about its beauty. I then came to a fork and stood, unsure which way to go. After a few moments a couple came down the slope, grinning ruefully and exclaiming that they'd gone the wrong way. We took the right path and chatted but soon they lamented that I was hiking too fast for them, so we wished each other Happy New Year and I continued on ahead, wanting to fist bump the air as I was the only solitary girlie hiker and I was too fast! I actually felt hardcore, despite puffing like a locomotive! I kept listening for the sound of the waterfalls and it took a while for the penny to drop as I finally realized that there would be no gushing water sounds since the falls were frozen! And then as I was berating myself, I turned a bend and there they were.

 Rivulets and waves of water were frozen solid, stilled as they tumbled down to the pool below, and reminding me of Gandalf's long white hair. Pure white and pristine, they shone in the sunlight, twinkling and glittering, and completely silent. A couple of climbers stood on the crest, throwing down ropes, abseiling to the bottom, then climbing back up to the top again using hammers and picks.
 I decided to see how the falls looked from the top before I took more photos.

 The trail started an immediate steep ascent, switching back and forth and becoming rockier. The wind picked up as I ascended but I was really enjoying the climb. It was becoming more of a rock scramble than just a hike, this was much more fun. But then I slipped. There were many pockets between the rocks that were filled with leaves, making it difficult or impossible to judge where your foot would land. I made a wrong decision and my foot went down in a pile of leaves, past my ankle, and I skidded on the hidden rock underneath. I was OK but changed my mind about hiking to the very top on my own in this weather. I'll be back when it's warmer and if I break a leg then, at least it will be warm, and I won't freeze while waiting for help to arrive. I reluctantly turned around and started back down. I was well above the falls and took each step carefully as I climbed back down the rocky path.
At the bottom I met a group of 3 guys who wanted to chat. The usual tiring questions of 'What part of the UK are you from?' started, and I answered mechanically. But then one of the guys actually knew a road in my home town, and from that moment I responded eagerly and it was non stop nattering. I learned from him of how this forest looked 20 years ago, when there were hemlocks and blackberry bushes, and we discussed my beloved monarch and hometown in depth. I was almost sad to leave the group, but we were all frozen after standing still for our chat, so we wanted to get moving again. "Happy New Year!" was bellowed out and punches on arms were given and we went our separate ways.

I learned from the guys that they'd also been standing on the ice. One of them said that 2" thick would support a man and 4" would support a horse. I decided to research this and found mathematical equations could be used to determine the ice safety. This is like speaking a foreign language to me so I also found this, which made a lot more sense.
The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers breaks it down this way:

·        Less than 1.75 inches: Keep off

·        1.75 inches: One person on skis

·        2 inches: One person on foot or skates

·        3 inches: One snowmobile or a group of people walking single file

·        7 inches: Automobile

·        8 inches: 2.5-ton truck

·        9 inches: 3.5-ton truck

·        10 inches: 7- to 8-ton truck.

So I did venture out on to the ice, quite tentatively at first, and was pretty excited about the experience. I don't recall ever having walked on an iced pond or river before so really enjoyed skidding and slipping across the top of the water. I had spotted some large cracks on parts where others had walked and kept away from those areas. I stayed on the ice which was clear so I could see its thickness and had a lot of fun sliding back and forth. The different formations of ice were amazing and I scoured the creek's surface for new patterns.

 Many of the smaller pools looked like this, bringing to my mind an image of a bath filled with Milk of Magnesia, as though the river was soaking and healing itself from the winter's erosive abrasions.

I spotted these unusual ice formations as I neared the end of my hike. I clambered down the bank and immediately went down up to my knees into a hollow that had filled with leaves. I didn't step on to the ice but crouched down to get a better shot of these upside down ice toadstools. I'd never seen anything like them before and was climbing back up to the trail when a hiker I'd spoken to earlier stopped and smiled, saying, "You just can't keep off the ice, can you?" as I climbed up the last rocks to meet him. But when I pointed out what I'd been looking at, his curiosity was piqued, and with no more comments, he too clambered down to get a better look. Grinning hugely I took one last look back at him crouching down at the river's edge, and then continued following the icy milky way back to the car.

A Wintery Walk along Richmond's Watercourse

On New Years Day I awoke and made my best attempt at leaping out of bed with some enthusiasm. I was hiking along the James River in Richmond today and it was very cold outside. I gave the thought of bailing some serious thought, looking at my warm covers wistfully but got ready regardless. I wasn't going to start the New Year with a failure. I layered up my shirts, pulled on lined hiking pants and grabbed gloves and a scarf on the way out of the door.

 I saw this huge claw mark by the car and added my footprint to give an indication of size. This was a big print. I initially thought it belonged to a bear or a skunk but then thought it possibly looked like one print on top of another and wondered if it was a vulture, or other large bird, landing and immediately taking off again. I didn't ponder for too long. My cheeks were aching from the bitter breezes and as I drove down the hill, the temperature gauge read 10°F. The countryside was beautiful, the morning sun caused the frosty and still slightly snow sprinkled fields to glitter and sparkle. It was almost a fairy tale land, easy to believe from my now warm car interior.
I met some of the group at Fredericksburg and we then convoyed down to Richmond. I was very glad I hadn't been tempted to go drinking last night. I would never have survived in these temperatures with a hangover and also the police were out today in large numbers, pulling people over, for speeding, and likely for alcohol still in their systems.
We met others from the group in a parking lot, and without standing around for too long, set off. It wasn't going to be a long hike, about 6.5 miles and following trails along the river banks which meant there wouldn't be any long uphill climbs.

 We marched at a brisk pace, the speed and cold waking me up fully. My scarf was wrapped around my ears and over my nose. I was as warm as toast, as long as we kept moving. Which we did. I barely had time for photos as we quickly made our way along the trail and before long were looking down at an icy James River.

 This was the coldest part of the hike, we were exposed as we crossed the bridge, the winds biting into our faces, and nobody stopped to admire the views. I took one quick look down at the boulders in the water, each one rimmed with a crust of ice. On the other side we clambered down a bank and were back on the sheltered trail again. We came across the old pumping station at Byrd Park, walked around the outside and admired the architecture.

A beautiful building, but I was mostly impressed with a sign on the door, prohibiting trespassing at night, but seemingly allowing it during the day. I may be back!

And then things went a bit pear shaped. We found ourselves trudging along a track which didn't really feel like a trail. We kept going until we finally clambered up a bank...on to a rail road track!

Not wanting to retrace our steps we headed back along the tracks, walking quickly just in case we heard a shrill whistle behind us. I couldn't help myself and after a few minutes yelled out, "Train!!" and was rewarded with 4 startled faces looking back at me.
We were soon back on safe soil, on the proper trail, and continued our march. Which for most of the time was what it felt like. We barely stopped at all, and whenever I stopped to take a photo I had to then trot to catch up with the group again. I took all these photos with my iPhone, pleased that at the last moment I'd left the Sony in the car. It would have been a frustrating hike trying to take all my photos on my usual manual exposure setting, racing to set up the shots and then running to rejoin the quickly disappearing marchers further up the trail.

It was beautiful scenery, definitely enhanced with the ice on the water. The trail was hard and dry, although slippery in some places due to so many dead leaves underfoot. Occasionally we had to clamber over rocks while crossing streams, some of the boulders icy underfoot. I was amazed when up ahead I spotted a guy in swimming trunks emerging from the frigid water and reaching for his towel. He didn't even seem in a hurry to be covered, his movements were almost casual. I couldn't observe any further as we turned a bend and he was hidden from view but I marveled at his resolution.I'm not sure that even a date with Daniel Craig could have enticed me into those arctic waters.
We came across a stone ruin on the river bank. This was the short lived Foushee's Mill. Built in 1819 and destroyed by floods in 1832, it was used by farmers to grind their grain. We stopped here for about 2 minutes, just enough time to look up and downstream, read the sign, and then start marching again.

Above is Charlie's Crossing, dedicated to a dog who was tragically killed here last year.
The ugly stairwell we climbed later led to a bridge crossing the railway line. We climbed a few sets of stairs, to get us across the railway line or the James River. I had to run up these as it felt like the cold was locking up my knees.

We also passed a couple of grave markers. I wasn't sure if these were where someone's ashes had been laid or just simply memory markers. Kim finally tumbled down after tripping over yet another tree root, having had 2 previous trips where she had manged to stay upright. She leaped up announcing loudly, "I didn't have any drinks last night!". to which, Scott, quick as a whip, retorted, "But what about this morning?" We all laughed and she was fine apart from a muddy knee.

Richmond came into site, tall buildings loomed on the horizon as we walked along with the cemetery up on our left, and we all started looking forward to a warm restaurant with warm food. One more crossing back over the river, walking on a suspended foot bridge where we passed a guy rolling rather expertly towards us on a unicycle, and then a hike back down the riverside to the cars. We ended up having walked about 8 miles and had covered the ground quickly. We headed towards Legend Brewery which was closed as we pulled up. I was secretly pleased as beers did not feature on my new diet, but laughed when Tim pleaded with the group, "Anyone know how to pick a lock?" Instead we went to a local burger bar which served only burgers or salads. Salads? Who'd want those in these frozen tundra temperatures. Warm food was an absolute must and I amazed myself by leaving half of my fries, most of my burger bun and swapping out my usual couple of beers for 3 coffees. I was starting this New Year right. There was little heating where we sat, so cold air wafted over to us every time the door was opened, so we all sat huddled with our coats on.

We left after our meal, and I was looking forward to getting into a warm car, but smiled at the wedding proposal on the cinema board across the road, wondering if she accepted. I got home after dark, climbing the hill with a huge and very bright wolf super moon lighting the way, and my Christmas lights twinkling a welcome from the patio doors.