It couldn’t have been worse. A co-worker invited me to her in-office baby shower held during lunch break. I arrived 15 minutes late and immediately regretted accepting the invitation. The woman-only crowd was deep into corny “baby shower games.” I gamely tried to fit in during the “baby trivia” game. However, when someone passed around streamers with a challenge to select the size that would correctly surround my co-worker’s pregnancy-swollen belly, I figured I ought to be somewhere else. I ghosted.
Thankfully, I thought, I’d have a backpacking weekend with the guys starting that afternoon! A weekend in the mountains, with a good group of dudes, and a challenging circuit hike in deep winter was just what I needed to clear my head. The temperatures would be well below freezing, but we had a primitive cabin with a wood burning stove reserved to keep us warm. There would be no running water or electricity, but a strong-running spring was nearby as well as an outhouse. This would be far from “glamping,” but it would be considerably more comfortable (and warmer) than pitching tents.
I had been observing “Dry January,” but the thought of drinking smooth Scotch next to a wood burning stove after a 20-mile day hike made re-think this ill-advised New Year’s Day resolution. My backpack was waiting for me in my car and all I needed was the Fred Flintstone-style work whistle to blow and I could “yabba dabba doo!” my way to the mountains.
When I arrived at the Metro to form our carpools, I couldn’t help but notice that most of the guys had long hair and feminine names. Men mostly comprise DC UL trips, along with one or two women—or none. On this trip there were seven women and three men. I had never been on a DC UL trip with this ratio. I had no apprehension, though. I knew all but one from prior trips—they’re very nice and are strong hikers. Immediately, they treated Ben, Vinay, and me as “just one of the guys.”
There was only one new-to-me backpacker, Mary. When we exchanged the obligatory “where are you from” introductory questions, I was not expecting her response: “Mars.” My face lit up. Wow! I never met a Martian! Before I could ask a billion questions, she followed up with “Pennsylvania. Mars, Pennsylvania. Near Pittsburgh.” “Oh,” I thought, “that’s not as cool.” Seeing my disappointment, she volunteered that she used to commute to work through the nearby town of Moon, meaning she actually traveled Mars-Moon-work and back every day. This amused me more than it should. Clearly, it amused her, too. She hiked the Appalachian Trail (“AT”) a couple years ago and has the trail name “Martian McFly.” The “Martian” is because she really is a Martian. She got the “McFly” tag for wearing a red puffer vest just like the one Michael J. Fox wore in the movie Back to the Future. (I later looked up “Mars, PA” on the internet and was happy to learn that Mars, PA has a space saucer on display)!
We arrived near the Browns Gap trailhead—on Earth—at the base of the mountains well after dark. However, the road leading to it had unwelcoming “No Trespassing” signs in the trees. With no way to confirm the lawfulness of driving past them, we chose to drive up to Skyline Drive and park there unaware of the future impact of that fateful decision.
After parking, we geared up and took the very short hike downhill to the cabin. Doyles River Cabin is a very small one-room cabin. It had a small picnic table on the front porch and another one inside, with bunk beds lining the back walls. Remarkably, it did not feel too restrictive.
Maddie, who posted this trip, proposed the hiking plan for the next day. She mapped a challenging 22-mile loop to Rocky Top Mountain with an optional excursion up Lewis Peak. The cold temperatures would be the “x-factor.” We expected below freezing weather most of the day and the short daylight hours of winter. We all got into our bunks and most slept very well. Even with the un-fed stove burning out, the inside temperature stayed in the 40s.
Maddie gave a very unusual DC UL wakeup call in the morning. She yelled nothing. She later said she was too intimidated to shout out in the silence; her wakeup call was stuck in her throat due to stage fright. This caused a dilemma. No one knew when it was socially acceptable to start moving around the cabin. Any motion in such a small space, such as by gently unzipping a sleeping quilt zipper, sounds like an airline taking off. A headlamp turned on to even the lowest red light setting looks like an interrogation spotlight. So, those of us who had awakened sat quietly in the darkness unaware if others were awake or not. Eventually, the need to use the outhouse, to boil some coffee, and to make breakfast overcame the desire to be overly courteous. When one person rustled around, another put on a headlamp. This was the signal for others to get moving. Maybe we don’t even need wakeup calls in DC UL. Nonetheless, I challenged Maddie to come up with a witty, yet wise wakeup call for her to try Sunday morning. She offered no promises.
Maddie’s plan was for us to hike northbound on the AT to Brown Mountain Trail to Rockytop Trail. We’d ascend Rocky Mountain, Brown Mountain, Rockytop Mountain, and Lewis Peak. We’d loop back to the cabin on the AT. Considering the freezing weather and short daylight hours, many decided to bring survival gear, such as sleeping quilts. Unfortunately, Vinay did not bring his.
Emily was the first to start the trek, followed by Ben, Beth (“Girl with the Big Backpack”), Vinay, Maddie, and Martian McFly. I wasn’t far behind the parade but was the last in that group because, after initially deciding to forgo breakfast, I decided to make oatmeal. Sophie (“Scrapple”), Albina, and Julie decided to do an up and back hike up the AT instead.
The hike started with magic. Overnight, a light dusting of snow covered the ground like powdered sugar. It was not much deeper than the tread of my trail runners, so it was easy to hike through. It was just pretty. I hiked alone for a time enjoying the absolute silence of a winter mountain morning after a snow. I took the long way around the empty Loft Mountain Campground.
After a time, I reached Martian McFly who was gazing at an overlook. I joined her to see the whitened mountains in the distance with a smooth white ribbon of Skyline Drive slicing through them. We chatted as we hiked through a scenic stream gorge, after which we caught up to Vinay. With a short climb ahead, those two changed clothing layers and I pressed onward alone.
There is no good way to connect the AT to the Brown Mountain Trail without hiking on Skyline Drive. Normally, I’d dislike a half mile road walk. However, the snow lay on the road surface like icing, flawed only by the footprints of my friends hiking ahead. There were no tire treads and not a single car passed me. Had I internalized the meaning of my ability to walk down the center of the untracked road without concern for traffic, and its impact on my near future, I would have had some anxiety. However, blessed is the innocent.
I caught up with Maddie as she caught up with Girl with the Big Backpack at Big Run. The stream was running gently. Crusts of ice had formed in and around the water. Girl with the Big Backpack had her pack on, telling us she had already stopped there for lunch. She told us she saw Ben and Emily there before she hiked onward. Maddie and I took off our packs to also have lunch there and asked each other whether Girl with a Big Backpack’s actions qualified as a DC UL “FU.” (This is where a hiker at rest sees approaching hikers and uses that as a cue to get going again without socializing). We decided her swift departure did not count because she already had her pack on and was just about to hike on when we arrived. It was a close call, though. Had her pack been on the ground when we arrived it would have counted as a FU.
Martian McFly arrived soon after we started lunch. After we finished, Vinay emerged through the trees from the trail. He dropped his pack for lunch and we four chatted until Maddie decided to start the big climb up to Rockytop. As she closed her backpack, I pointed out a shortcut on the map to Vinay, considering how far behind he was hiking. He thanked me and said he’d consider it. Sadly, that would be the last I heard from him as I hefted my pack for the big climb, leaving him and Martian McFly behind.
I’ve hiked these trails thrice before, but always in summer. This winter experience was completely different. With no leaves on the trees, one could almost constantly see the valley and the definitions of the other mountains. In the summer, the trails are mostly a green tunnel. It was in many ways like hiking a completely new trail. The weather turned pleasant. I was hiking in only my fleece without mittens.
I reached the junction with the Lewis Trail to the eponymous mountain. I considered the excursion to it. It would be an up-and-back trek for 2 miles roundtrip with a 200-foot descent and climb each way. Since I’d like to hike all the trails in the SNP, and because I’ve never hiked this one, I thought I ought to give it a try. I paused at one point to adjust my clothing and was startled by a bear, causing me to jump back with a start! Actually, it was not a bear, it was only Girl with a Big Backpack returning from Lewis Mountain who said pleasantly, “funny seeing you here!” In the woods, sounds seem amplified.
I was glad I took this side trail. The top of Lewis Peak was a slickrock outcropping with a 300-degree panorama of the valley and the neighboring Massanutten Mountains. I took a photo, which does not adequately depict the majesty of the view.
I returned to the Rockytop Trail and then to the AT. Along the way I found on the ground a pair of headphones and, later, a koozie. I picked them up assuming one of my friends dropped them.
I returned to the cabin shortly before sunset, one of the last to return. (Not everyone took the optional Lewis Peak excursion). I gave Maddie her dropped koozie and Martian McFly her headphones to their delight. I learned that Martian McFly, in turn, found Ben’s dropped mitten on the trail. So, for the record, Martian McFly is “even,” Ben is behind one lost and found rescue, and I win with a two-item credit. (This was the only official competition for the weekend—and I won)!
Vinay was still on the mountain. Still warm from our hikes, many of us congregated outside the cabin on the covered front porch to wait for him. Scrapple and I laughed over prior DC UL trip misadventures. Julie remarked at how the sunset seemed to be without end. Since we were facing east, the setting sun in the west was reflecting on the clouds in front of us. This kept them glowing red for a long time until blackness.
The nighttime was not the only darkness dropping on us. “Has anyone seen Vinay?” I asked. Martian McFly reported that he did not take the shortcut I had proposed. Maddie confidently asserted that Vinay was solid, and she did not seem concerned. I looked in the cabin at his bunk to see that he left his sleeping bag behind. I didn’t know if he thought to bring his headlamp or not. It was getting colder. Maddie tried calling him; Albina texted him. We did not get an answer.
If that wasn’t enough of a concern, Maddie mentioned that she got a report that Skyline Drive was closed due to the snow. How would we drive off the mountain the next day on a closed road? She called and left a message with the Ranger Station early in the day but got no reply. She called again unsuccessfully. None of us knew what happens if you park off Skyline Drive and they subsequently close the road due to snow. Would we be stranded? I jokingly told Maddie that “maybe the gate will just, like, fix itself!” This was a riff off an exchange we had on a different trip where my car battery died on the way to the trailhead and her “solution” was that “maybe the car will, like, fix itself!” I laughed at her naivete of thinking it was possible for a car battery to recharge by sitting still for a weekend in subfreezing weather. I teased that the famous “Shenandoah elves” haunt the valleys looking for stranded backpacker’s cars to fix. However, the joke was on me; her prediction turned into a miracle—my car started instantly at the end of the trip, and I could drive home! The car fixed itself!
Girl with a Big Backpack confidently asserted that she had zero concern about the road. We’d drive our three cars to the closed gate, call the Rangers, and they’d open it. She said she worries about things all the time, but not this. She declared “the worst that will happen is we spend another night in a warm cabin with friends.”
That is when Ben interjected to ask, “is that really the worst that can happen?” He imagined that the worst thing that could happen would be an apocalyptical event, leaving us the world’s sole temporary survivors, stranded in the mountains with limited supplies. Girl with a Big Backpack just rolled her eyes. I asked her what she worries about if she is such a worrier. She said, “climate change, tyranny, and financial collapse. I have zero worries about getting off this mountain.”
Vinay solved one of our problems by just showing up, which he did to our applause. He said he enjoyed hiking slowly and stopped to take a lot of artistic photos. He ultimately posted almost 50 of them.
With Vinay there, and the final strands of light from the day gone, so were we. We all retreated to the warmth of the cabin. We’d have to worry about the closed Skyline Drive problem in the morning.
That is when the dance party started.
(Just kidding). Girl with a Big Backpack taught us her card game, “DC UL the Game,” proud of some new rules she created. However, amid the dinner-making and socializing, folks were too tired to play. While chatting with Albina, who mentioned Albania a couple times, I asked what I thought was an obvious question: “Are you from Albania?” She looked at me curiously and said, “no, I’m from Croatia, why?” I asked why she wasn’t named “Croatia?” She patiently explained that her name was Albina, not Albania, and that her name means “bright light.”
Folks passed flasks of whisky around and Maddie made hot toddies. I learned, to my surprise, that I was not the only one taking the “Dry January” challenge. There was a sizable group of us temporary teetotalers. This positive peer pressure kept me on the wagon. Our intoxicating personalities were all we needed, anyway.
I happened to be outside the cabin at one point and, looking back at the cabin, I could see the lights from the windows glowing brightly against the blackness of the night. I couldn’t tell what “bright light” was Albina. The chattering voices and constant laughter from inside the cabin echoed in the dark, quiet woods. I smiled.
Julie announced a plan to stay up until 9:00 p.m., hoping she’d then sleep through the night. I rolled my eyes thinking, “that’s not happening.” It was dark and silent in the cabin well before 8:00 p.m. Not even Albina’s “bright light” pierced the blackness. Maybe she needs a different name.
We woke on Sunday despite no wake-up call from Maddie. It snowed again overnight, which was pretty, but it dashed our hopes that the park would re-open Skyline Drive.
The cabin rules mandated that we collect firewood for the next occupants. So, we had a lot of work to collect and cut the wood. In the cold weather it was nice to keep warm by sawing and chopping wood. Vinay, who clearly was a former lumberjack, showed us the best techniques. We rapidly cleaned and closed the cabin, re-filled the firewood supply, and started hiking back to our cars.
With a strong cell signal on Skyline Drive, I searched the SNP website to see what to do if stranded by a road closing. There were no obvious instructions. So, it being 2026, I asked AI. The robot instructed us to drive to the nearest exit and wait for someone to open the gate. We drove slowly on Skyline Drive to avoid slipping on the untreated, unplowed road. There were no tracks but ours.
It turned out that Girl with a Big Backpack and I were right! She was right to have no worries; I was right about the Shenandoah elves. An elf disguised as a bearded man was sitting in a pickup truck. He quickly opened the gate for us and waived us through without any delay. I later mentioned to Girl with a Big Backpack that since she had no worries about getting off the mountain—and considering how we got off the mountain so easily—that maybe she ought not worry about other things, such as climate change. Maybe the environment would just fix itself! I recommended that she suggest this to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. What’s the worst that could happen?
— David O (“Spider-Man”)
Featured image photo credit: Maddie
DC UL Backpacking 
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