Last gasp of Autumn

Early November.

The last gasp of Autumn in the Shenandoah, and I'm wringing out every last bit of it. This weekend Will and I have planned a late fall backpacking trip through the Three Ridges Wilderness. Looking at the map of George Washington National Forest there are few place names, no roads, only crowded contour lines crumbled around the geography of rock, water, and gravity.

For the East, this kind of wilderness can be hard to find. Unlike the deserts and high mountains in the west, these lands are more ancient and subtle. You just have to try a little harder to find wilderness beyond the pall, unlike towering western mountains the appalachians are ancient mountains whittled to rolling foothills in most places now, wrapped in dark green forests along the ridge tops and filled up with farms in the valleys.

When we began the journey it was cold, colder than I expected. Along the trail, curly cues of ice have burst from the soil and my breath comes out as steam. The trails are covered in crispy crackling leaves. Rust reds, browns, and deep yellow leaves make the forests a rich sensory experience in color, texture, and sounds. Many of the trees have long since shed their leaves in preparation for the winter. Only the oaks, beeches, and hickories stubbornly hold onto their summer clothing now.

Through yellow beech groves and along a deep mountain gorge we traveled. Mid-afternoon we stopped to picnic in the sun with the falling leaves drifting lazily down and the tinkering of the stream below. We snacked on nuts, dried fruits, and chocolate on a rock overlooking a hollow below and enjoying the scenery. It was a truly gorgeous spot. Crossing streams and then hiking up and up and up we climbed, zig zagging over switchbacks to the ridgetops.

Come sunset we made the summit and boy was it cold and windy! Stopping briefly to watch the western mountains swallow up the sun in a red-orange halo we continued on to a windy peak. In hindsight it was surely the worst place to overnight, but we didn?t want to go back or forward any further to find a flat spot in the darkness. Self assured stereotypical men, of course we underestimated the elements. So, exposed, the wind screamed and howled like a banshee the whole night. With all my clothes on and the sleeping bag zipped tight I still shivered through a long and dark night. Come morning the tent was coated in ice. Brrrr, we almost froze up there!

But eventually the sun came back and we got the blood pumping on the trail again. Warming up the natural way, hiking!