Dolly Sods West Virginia - Wild and Wonderful - Part 1

It was finally time for a local hike.  Local being without the presence of dispiriting airports and TSA agents giving some of us older fellas the bewildered look when they find the unexplained low hanging fruit in our trousers - the final drop of the bags as it were.  So with the agreement from the potential "plum smugglers" we decided on a place we had heard of that was quite usual for our latitude.  A high plateau of sylvan glory, windswept meadows and mucky bogs that is more likely to be found much farther north in say Canada, eh.  We chose the Dolly Sods, West Virginia.

To add to the fun of this trip, and challenge our already suspect footing as wobbly old men, the area, affectionately call the Sods, is also an abandoned WWII artillery range (complete with un-exploded ordinance).  Perhaps the Wild in Wild and Wonderful West Virginia lends itself to this motif.  So in keeping with our mootable standard of hiking only in wilderness areas, the Dolly Sods Wilderness area fit the bill.  17,000 acres of wilderness, crumbly sandstone formations, sphagnum bogs, and the very remote possibility of loosing a leg to something other than a bear.

The Sods is only about 3 hours from the DC area, compliments of the great Appalachian Corridor H project.  A project designed to bring more people into harms way by quicker access to the leg-breaking ski resorts of Canaan Valley and the sphagnum that may hide the waiting antique ordinance.  I found myself lost in net neutrality one evening in my study of the words sphagnum and ordinance.  But in the end, sphagnum won the short lexical battle in my bean sized brain - what was sphagnum anyway?  Apparently it can be bisexual.  I googled it so it must be true.  To that extent - it is just peat moss.

Flavor Flav and Uncle Milty

For this trip, Flyrod and I gathered some new characters, not from central casting, but from the land of misfit adventurists.   The first new member – and newly named for this trip – is our dual citizenship (Irish and American) anglophile who shall now be called - Flavor Flav - Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!   Back in the mid 80s when the group Public Enemy formed -one notable rapper front man named William Drayton (Flavor Flav) surfaced with a large clock on a chain around his neck - it was his trademark look; that and his lavish gold teeth grill-work.  Our "William" Lawrence, who had recently completed a prestigious outdoor survival course at Georgetown University, arrived fully prepared to help us all find our way by sporting a large compass around his neck.  Enough said.

Flavor Flav  🕓

The next new member was Uncle Milty.  For you younger readers, Uncle Milty historically refers to Milton Berle – a cross dressing womanizing actor-comedian with a devilish smile from TV’s golden era.  I don’t know if there is more to add. Our Milt already came with his nickname, his own devilish smile, and similar rapacious behavior.  Plus, he did mention that he had on silk socks - so it is a befitting name.  He is a great one to have on the trip - always full of cheer and great stories.

Uncle Milty - Fuzzy in the head as always

So there we were, a band of misfits ready to dance with the devil and bisexual sphagnum with ordinance at our feet.  Our plan was not too difficult.  Similar to our other hikes, we would park a car at one end, the Blackbird Knob (TR511) trail head, and end the trip the next day with another car parked at the southern end of Red Creek (TR514) trail head.  All the trails in the Sods come with both a name and a number.  Since there are a manifold of 19 trails to chose from, all crisscrossing the Sods in every direction and variation of interests, it is a great place for every type of hiker.

The Hearts of the Old and Young

I think the frisson of excitement for the trip was probably the thought of pre-hike festivities in the small town of Davis, WV.  It is filled with inescapable places for food and drink.  There are also four or maybe now five microbreweries in Davis and Thomas combined.  Thomas being just a couple miles farther west of Davis.  I will give a shout out to Hellbenders and Sirianni's Cafe for food.   Two of the notable micro-brewers are Stumptown Ales and Mountain State Brewing - both have good beers and great vibes.  Lucky for us, our base camp staging area would be a night's stay at a wonderful townhome in Deerfield Village owned by Bloodworm - of C&O towpath fame.

Having this base camp would give us the opportunity to get an early start the next day provided we kept our imbibing to a reasonable limit and, as we did, run from the local elderly woman who stared at us "young" bucks with malevolent mountain lust.  In one establishment, a coven of them expressed their desire to make us their young swains.  This stood the hair up on my neck.  I found myself somewhere betwixt panic and fear and I am not embarrassed to say I ran like a beaten dog.  I think it was their loose fitting upper dentures, the wispy scent of menthol deep-heating rub, and the cigarette smell emanating from their teddy bear embroidered sweaters.  The poverty level of their desirability was well below what was allowed by state law, even in WV.   Flyrod and Uncle Milty had a good laugh at my expense and were shocked I wanted to leave.  In the meantime, Flavor Flav had his own autumn- spring relationship budding with the octogenarian running the Tucker County information desk - he beamed all weekend regaling us with the knowledge she held - he was anxious to see her again after the hike.  😲

Plan of Attack

The group decided at the onset that we would split when Red Creek (TR514) – northern terminus – intersected with the east to west Blackbird Knob (TR511).  Flyrod and Flavor Flav would head south and find a nice spot at the Red Creek camping area a mile or so away – I think they had a rap song they were working on.   Red Creek camping area is very popular and the best sites are for those who arrive early.   Uncle Milty and I would continue west toward Timberline Ski resort that borders the western side of the Sods then pick up Breathed Mountain (TR553) and circle back up (TR514) to find them.  We wanted some more miles and to enjoy the open meadows of the upper Sods. 

Topo and Trail Map - We were on 511 - Right to Left

Flyrod reviewing the maps.

The trails of the Sods are very well marked – and well worn.  It is a popular area.  There is a lot of water here so expect some mud on the trails.   It is after you encounter some mud that you will experience the clever destructiveness of hikers who don’t want to get their feet wet or muddy.  There usually are two trails in low areas – they are either both dry or one, the lowest one, will be filled with muddy water and a variety of detritus the hiker has found to throw into the mud; used as an archipelago to step across to the other side. 

Campsites are also very abundant.  There are really nice ones, with great tent sites, tucked into the shade with oversized Flintstone style furniture assembled from immense chucks of rock.  And of course the requisite fire pit as the center of the universe.    Flyrod and Flavor Flav would find us such a site.

The start of the hike was great – flat, easy hiking with some nice clear crisp streams to cross and cool primordial woods.  We made good time –arrived a bit after noon at the Red Creek trail.  We dropped packs and enjoyed the cool of the shade by lounging about on the large rocks.  We were enjoying some snacks when out of the woods came a very sturdy looking Nordic alpine princess, sans dirndl, with a troop of young hikers in tow.  They moved quickly away from us and down the trail upon seeing such a despicable sight – think basking elephant seals.  One of the kids said something to the princess like, “Heidi, ya, what’s wrong with those girlie men?”

Nice Campsite under the trees near a stream (Alder Run)

Flyrod with his new hiking mascot along for the ride - Baby Squatch

Right Fork Red Creek

Flavor Flav navigating across Right Fork Red Creek

Right Fork Red Creek

Continued...Part 2

Dolly Sods West Virginia - Wild and Wonderful - Part 2

Continued from Part 1

Jagman and Uncle Milty Journey

An enjoyable part of this trip was that it was only going to be a one-nighter.  So we could carry heavy luxury items with abandon.  In this case - beer.  Flyrod had a six pack of cans and I was carrying a six pack of cans (chilled in cold freezer packs).  The palpable anticipation of a cold beer at a campsite adds so much to the journey to get there.  No powdery Gatorades or, yuck, more water, was going to be as enjoyable as the beer.  Plus we had one of my famous trail dinners to consume - Chicken, Summer Sausage and Orzo pasta - no freeze dried junk is my motto.  And some dinner rolls.  Even Flavor Flav had a flask of Irish Whiskey and four of the coolest glow in the dark shot glasses.  It was going to be a great night.

So as Flyrod and Flavor Flav setoff in search of campsites, Uncle Milty and I took off across the alpine tundra to check out the high meadows of the Sods.  We were not disappointed.  The terminus for Red Creek trail (TR514) was at a high point (Blackbird Knob) so Uncle Milty and I would head down toward the Left Fork of Red Creek then back up to the far side of the Sods.  It was beautiful.

From the above photos, the topography of the terrain was evident.  The elevation changes were slight but still made you remember that you had excessive weight in the backpack for necessities.  The gentle downward slope was heading toward the Left Fork of Red Creek.  Then we would head back up to the ridge at the top of the photo.  This ridge happened to be the upper limit of Timberline Ski Resort.  On the other side of that ridge was a steep drop to Canaan valley below.  In a few months we would be back for some good skiing.

Uncle Milty surveying the crossing

Left Fork Red Creek - aptly named - the tannin in the water makes it look red like tea

I deliberately went ahead in selfish hopes of capturing a splashdown - denied 😞

Left Fork Red Creek - heading South

Up from the creek

Alpine at its best.

Heading to the ridge

When Uncle Milty and I arrived near the Breathed Mountain trail head, we started encountering more people.  I think they came over the ridge from Timberline resort.  The hikers that stood out the most, we these two young women we caught up to who were walking their dog.  Uncle Milty and I started what we thought was harmless conversation.  "Oh how far you hiking?  What is your dog's name?  Where are you from?"  For whatever reason they did not like us.  Maybe this is taught to women in the West Virginia school system, if you ever encounter men in the mountains, do your best to distance yourself from them.  Lie to them.  Tell them you are waiting for your pro-wrestler husband, or maybe your boyfriend visiting from Louisiana who wrestles alligators for a living.  Just do something.  Don't provide their libertine brains with any tidbits they can latch onto for courtly love.  So Uncle Milty and I were abruptly told that they decided to hike in the opposite direction - away from us.  Hey, no problem, have a nice day.   Ten minutes later, when Uncle Milty and I were taking a break before heading down Breathed Mountain, these two caught up to us again.  We felt so dirty and creepy.  😏

Adjoining trail

Cinnamon Ferns

Mountain Laurel (Kalmia Latifolia)

A Bog!!!  Sphagnum!! Uncle Milty gets first dance.

Stand of trees on Breathed Mountain trail

Uncle Milty and I made it back down the trail to Red Creek Trail and were anxious to get to camp and unwind.  We were getting a bit tired and wanted some down time with some beer before dinner.  On the surface it would be a simple ten minute hike back up the trail to find the camp, but therein lies the problem.

The trouble with men, when they get away from the women that raised them from a child (their wives), is that they revert back to being a child at the first opportunity.  Not a child in the sense of a sudden collapse of self-sufficiency, maybe for some, but more in the sense of being like a rather sophisticated child, perhaps an elite private school kid who has also spent time in Montessori - so he can think freely sometimes and get in trouble.  He now knows some big words, can legally buy bounteous amounts of alcohol, and has some boastful, albeit suspect, stories to tell about the women in his past life (Not the two-minute grocery store rodeo arcade with the wife).  Additionally, things like spitting, farting, bathroom humor and cussing, like, well like a ten year old, is obligingly celebrated by the others.  Think William Golding’s - Lords of the Flies – only now book-ended by the weekend.  With this in mind, the approach to marking the trail indicating the direction Uncle Milty and I should turn for camp, was a sophisticated one, to wit, a magnum sized condom filled with water (I hope) and hung from a tree.  Perhaps erected, if you excuse the pun, to point in the direction we should travel.  I can only think that the purchase of the “magnum” was either an optimistic inspiration of genetic grandeur, or the large box purchased at Costco was a huge fail akin to buying a large cowboy hat that falls down to your shoulders; there were many leftovers in the box that now needed to be re-purposed.

Continued...Part 3

Dolly Sods West Virginia - Wild and Wonderful - Part 3

Continued from part 2

Upon reaching Red Creek trail - we decided to turn North - although it was not apparent that that was the correct direction; just an assumption.  I did not see any prophylactics in the trees pointing - thankfully.  The area was however awash with campers.  It was nuts.  Every possible location that could hold a tent was occupied.  There were smoky campfires, kids running around, loud music, and an endless numbers of campers.  Anguished fathers were asleep in their hammocks as their children pulled branches down from the very tree they were in and tried to add it to the oversized fire nearly below them.  The comatose father, perhaps unconscious from smoke inhalation, looked like a big dead animal on a spit over the fire.  With that, Uncle Milty and I hiked up the half-mile to where the Left Fork of Red Creek merged with the Right Fork.  After the crossing, we decided we would drop the packs at the last remaining camp site just in case, and I would try to locate our rapper friends.  Uncle Milty would stand guard - silk socks notwithstanding.

I ran farther north on Red Creek and all along the edge of the creek looking for them  After no glory was called going north, I ran back by Uncle Milty and told him I was heading south to look.  I ran down to where Breathed Mountain entered Red Creek Trail and went south for about a quarter mile from there.  I skirted down toward the water's edge looking for them, again no luck.  So I ran back up to Uncle Milty.  It was by chance I ran into Flyrod who was taking a stroll down the trail.  He could not believe I missed both his faintly drafted arrows, scratched into the dirt, and the large rubbery "boudin blanc" hanging near the trail pointing toward the camp.  Like she said, I guess I thought it would be bigger.

Camp on Red Creek

Party Central

Red Creek

Flyrod - cigar and beer.

Dinner was awesome as was the evening.  We had a great time.  A bright moon came out and we all enjoyed the comfortable fire and the quiet that finally settled over the camping zone.  Oddly - and considering there is so much standing water and moisture - there were no bugs whatsoever.  I figured we would be bitten to pieces but the mosquitoes never showed.  A little trail magic.

The next day dawned overcast with heavy clouds.  It was going to rain.  Immediately after breakfast we packed our tents just as the drops began to fall.  As a result I do not have any pics from our journey down - I packed my camera away for safe keeping.  It was not a heavy rain but it made it slippery on the downhills. 

We followed the Red Creek Trail (TR514) down the mountain - oddly got lost, way off trail, at one section near trail (TR510).  Flavor Flav's compass must have been packed away.  We also had a difficult pass over Red Creek near here too.  The creek was twice as big with the two forks combined so it was a challenge.  Flavor Flav dropped a foot into the water - karma for getting us lost?  No - we were following Flyrod and not paying attention when we got lost.  Good thing we did not encounter any ordinance!!

Red Creek Trail (TR514)

And so it ends.  The weather cleared near the end and it got really humid for the final part of the trip down.  We picked up the cars (Thankfully still there) - had some more food in Davis, Flavor Flav chatted with his senior girlfriend at the Tucker County office (They agreed to meet again someday), and we all left intact.  All legs accounted for.