There are strange things done ’neath Virginia sun
By hikers with frozen hands,
The Massanutten trails hold wind and gales
And more rocks than grains of sand.
The ridge winds bite with frosty spite
Though forecasts look sincere—
But the wildest tale I’ll ever tell
Is the hike we survived this year.
I said with cheer, “The fall’s prime here—
We’ll hike through autumn’s blaze!
Red-golden light will guide us right
Through crisp October days.”
But as we climbed, the trail inclined,
And Aileen said with a sigh,
“You promised trees with fiery leaves—
But everything here is… brown and dry.”
“Just wait,” I swore, “there’s much in store—
The colors hide up high!”
She shook her head, “We’ve been misled—
You’ve sold us all a lie!”
Yet mile by mile, the woods grew wild
With flashes bright and brave—
Till ridge by ridge, the forest switched
To autumn’s burning flame.
Then Duncan rose where the trailhead goes,
A summit made of stone,
A jumbled stack of quartzite crags
Where every rock’s a throne.
We scrambled high beneath the sky
With grit between our teeth,
And paused up top to catch our breath
With the Shenandoah beneath.
Around the ring where a fire once burned
We dropped our packs to rest,
With couscous mush and freeze-dried stuff—
Ultralight at its best.
No flames, no film, no spooky thrill—
Just headlamp light and autumn chill,
But the stars overhead said all that need be said
As the valley lay silent and still.
At dawn we rose with stiffened toes
And backs a little sore,
But hearts were strong—we moved along
With rocky miles in store.
For Strickler called beyond the fall
Where clouds drifted like foam—
A ridgeline steep and ledges deep
Of splintered mountain stone.
Then Aileen laughed as the trail turned daft,
“I thought uphill was done!”
But burrs had latched to her hiking pants,
Each sticky little one.
Marc charged ahead with mountain legs,
While Craig moved calm and steady,
And Leo swore this climb was war—
But kept his trekking poles ready.
Yet on we pressed and reached the crest
To claim our rocky prize—
With distant peaks and sweeping views
Beneath the autumn skies.
And though we sweated, slipped, and cursed,
We’d do it all again—
For trails are blessed with wilderness
And laughter among new friends.
So shoulder your pack and don’t look back
When adventure calls your name—
For the hills may taunt and weather haunt,
But you’ll go just the same.
And when fall hides behind the pines,
Trust patience, not demand—
For color waits beyond the ridge
To paint the mountain grand.
Congrats to Marc and Craig for promotion from Applicant to Member!
Event: https://www.meetup.com/dc-ul-backpacking/events/310882275
DC UL Backpacking 
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