“Stop looking at the GPS and just push through the brush!” Wesal (“WB”) exclaimed. We had been trying to follow an unblazed, wildly overgrown trail in the mountains of Cranberry Wilderness in West Virginia. Nature clearly had reclaimed this trail. Our shins were cut up from brambly, low growth and my thighs started developing red splotchy rashes from stinging nettles. We’d hike on a faint hint of a trail only for it to suddenly dead end into the wild, disappearing. I’d look at the GPS to see how far off course we drifted and then push through the thick vegetation until we found the trail again. Occasionally, our course correction turned out to be a game trail and, with the help of the GPS, a further course correction gained purchase, along with more scratches and cobwebs. Ultimately, we grew less fastidious about staying on trail. As long as we were heading in the right direction, we just pressed onward.
This was not one of the most welcoming backpacking trails, I thought to myself. I should have expected it. First, our “trail” was oddly named “the North-South Trail” even though it ran east to west. Clearly, the trail blazers thought that anyone hiking west on a trail named “North-South” would expect difficulty wayfinding. Even the name was confusing.
Second, we were not even supposed to be on that trail. I had signed up for Peter’s (“Corpse Foot’s”) lower milage trip to the Wilderness on more established trails, not this one. However, our backpacking club, DC UL Backpacking has a big problem—people will sign up for trips only to drop off the week of the trip. This creates long waitlists. I hadn’t noticed Corpse Foot’s trip posting the instant he posted it, so I found myself deep down the waitlist. There appeared to be little chance I’d snag a coveted spot. When Brett, who was higher on the waitlist than me asked about his odds of getting on the trip. Corpse Foot replied, “Hi Brett, to be honest, the odds of getting on the final roster while currently #12 are pretty low.” The ever-positive Aileen (“Come on Aileen”) chimed in “But stranger things have happened Brett :)” I looked at the roster: in addition to Corpse Foot and Come on Aileen, it featured Veteran Plus Members Will (“Savage”), Brian (“B~~~~”), and Andrew (“Camel”). I knew they wouldn’t drop out absent an apocalypse—and even then they’d probably still go. I started focusing on my status a little less deep in the waitlist of Austin’s nearby Otter Creek Wilderness trip. However, I was less enthusiastic about hiking there. The last time I did so I found the trail to be excessively overgrown and, at times, difficult to follow . . .
Corpse Foot, a particularly compassionate guy, noticed the strong interest in his trip. At one point there were 30 people on the waitlist! Not wanting to turn away eager backpackers, and obeying Wilderness regulations that limit groups to 10 backpackers, he gently suggested that I (“Spider-Man”) post a high milage trip to the same Wilderness on the same weekend. That way interested Veteran Members could join my trip, opening spaces on his trip to Members. (At DC UL, the club “ranks” participants and trips. Most trips featuring days exceeding 20 miles on challenging terrain are ranked “Veteran Member Only” “(VMO”) trips, open only to those backpackers ranked “Veteran Members” by the club. It reduces the chances of someone coming on a trip and not keeping up with the core group—or worse). However, he proposed this to me a little over a week prior to the trip. I’d have to choose a trekking route and didn’t have time to do so due to a busy spell at my job. I told Corpse Foot I’d think about it. Separately, WB had a similar conversation with him. That was enough for Corpse Foot to unceremoniously boot us both off the trip and take others off the waitlist!
As I wrote: we were not supposed to be on that trip.
WB snapped into action. She had previously hiked that part of Cranberry Wilderness and had an idea for a trek. She started blazing a CalTopo route and I promptly posted a “Cranberry Wilderness Mystery Tour” on Meetup. The “mystery” was the yet to be planned trek that WB was assembling. This imprecise plan was enough for Beth (“Girl with a Big Backpack” or “GBB”). She immediately signed on. Ultimately, only the three of us would do so.
We needn’t have bothered with posting this alternative trip. Meteorologists breathlessly reported weeklong rain—extending through our backpacking weekend in the West Virginia mountains. Meteorologists are “the ChatGPTs of the scientific community.” Just as artificial intelligence sites will incorrectly answer a question one poses to it with complete confidence, meteorologists will confidently (and incorrectly) declare the weather down to the hour, with the exact temperature degrees and the precise inches of rain. (One notable exception, of course, is DC UL’s-own Chet. Chet is a meteorologist who would never do this. Nor would he invent meteorological terms such as “self-destructing sunshine”)!
I read one weather report calling for two inches of rain on Saturday with daily thunderstorms. Come on Aileen wrote, “Cranberry’s looking pretty stormy. I’m bowing out. Stay safe out there!” As if giving others permission to reconsider, the attendance roll instantly collapsed as backpackers considered the benefits of a weekend long rain and mud fest. Twenty-eight people who had signed up for Cranberry Wilderness ultimately dropped; Thirty-two people who had signed up for Otter Creek Wilderness followed suit. In the end only six backpackers attended Corpse Foot’s trip and another six attended Austin’s.
WB crafted a trek where we’d hike a serpentine route through the Wilderness, camping alone Friday night but with Corpse Foot’s group Saturday. The plan: 3.5 miles Friday, 24.5 Saturday, and 9 miles Sunday. We’d hike into the Wilderness on the North Fork trail Friday, take the North-South Trail Saturday to the Middle Fork Trail, and return on the Beechy Trail Sunday. The plan was a good one. We’d effectively hike all parts of that section of the Wilderness.
Thus, after a long drive from Washington, WB, GBB, and I found ourselves backpacking alone into the Cranberry Wilderness. While we drove through a torrential rainstorm on the way to the trailhead, we started hiking in nice dry weather. Despite the temperature in DC in the 90s with oppressive humidity, the West Virginia temperatures were pleasantly cool. GBB was mildly disappointed. She likes hiking in the rain. Based on the wet forecast I confidently gave her my “Spider-Man Guarantee” that we’d hike in the rain. She smiled.
We descended the three miles through a picturesque forest of spruce trees carpeted with thick moss as the sun set. We made camp in a clearing of evergreens next to a gently flowing brook. GBB hung her hammock as WB and I pitched our tents on the soft pine needle covered ground. I mostly slept solidly through the night. I noticed a slight drizzle, but in the morning there was no water on my tent or condensation inside. Nice!
Having called this trip the “Cranberry Wilderness Mystery Tour,” my initial theme for it was, naturally, the Beetles. (One of their hit albums is “The Magical Mystery Tour”). So, for the wakeup call, I shouted, “Good morning! As the Beetles sing: ‘Cranberry Fields Forever!’” (One of the Beetles’ songs on that album is “Strawberry Fields Forever”). I smiled at my wit.
The trail started off as typical wilderness—a bit overgrown, but not off the charts. We then took a gravel road for a couple miles to our next trail before choosing whether to hike our intended 24.5-mile plan or cut off 3 miles using a side trail. However, GBB’s unofficial trail name is “As Advertised” because she does not like deviations from an original plan. So, the shortcut was not super-appealing to her. I looked at the overgrown opening to the detour and thought the other trail might be better. It couldn’t be worse. WB was up for anything. So, we eschewed the shortcut.
This is how we found ourselves on the barely existing “North-South Trail” heading east. Despite the challenges with wayfinding and the frustration of bushwacking, the woods in this wilderness was shockingly pretty. Also, the terrain was well-graded. The descents and climbs were significant but felt gentle. (It is possible the bushwacking just distracted us from the exertion). They look much different than most forests in the east due to the extensive trails through either spruce or rhododendrons. The rocks were few. The mushrooms were not.
The mushrooms were everywhere! I never saw so many varieties. WB and GBB collected some Chicken of the Woods mushrooms to supplement their dinners. These bread-like mushrooms grew on trees. WB collected some black mushrooms whose name I forgot. She offered to let me sample them all that evening. I politely declined. I don’t do wild mushrooms—even those selected by someone who studies them like WB. In my mind too many safe mushrooms resemble poisonous ones (as B~~~~~ would later learn that evening) and eating any seems like an unnecessary risk considering I had carried all the food I’d need on this trip on my back.
Despite the awful pre-trip forecasts, it hadn’t rained all day. I think I heard the distant sound of thunder very far away at one point, but it was so feint I could have been wrong. While I enjoyed the dry, cool-for-August weather, I was growing concerned about the “Spider-Man Rain Guarantee” I gave GBB. I’d feel bad if I didn’t deliver; but I knew I’d quickly get over it. I kept hiking.
We arrived at the campsite selected by Corpse Foot well before sunset and set up camp. It was on a bluff overlooking an impressive waterfall. The other group had arrived much earlier and, after making camp, decided to go on a long day hike. They returned just after we set up.
Savage recognized me, came over with a smile and a handshake saying, “It’s been a minute.” I’ll say! The last time I hiked with him was when I had just joined DC UL. That was 9 years ago.
I met Jesse and Shane for the first time. Jesse told us stories from his thru hikes of the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and the Continental Divide Trail. In the east, the Cranberry Wilderness is his favorite hiking destination. With his backpacking resume, that is quite an endorsement!
Camel and I enjoyed catching up with each other. We had hiked twice together in trips to the canyons of the Southwest and, often, on the trails in the East. The last trip we had planned together was on the AT in the winter during a deep freeze. We each bailed, embarrassed to later learn that Haigang’s (“Two-Gang’s”) tiny Dachshund dog, Mocha (“Sam”), was man enough to handle the trip.
GBB arrived at camp and shot me a side-eye, clearly upset that I didn’t deliver on my promise of rain. However, she admitted that she experienced a half hour of drizzle. Oddly, I didn’t notice any. Maybe the bushwacking had distracted me. My shirt was slightly wet from the damp vegetation constantly brushing up against me. GBB had been so happy for the brief rain that she stopped, looked up, and luxuriated in it while enjoying the peacefulness of being alone in the woods. However, it was too little and too short. But, as I pointed out, it was technically “rain,” so I fulfilled my guarantee. GBB just shot me another side-eye.
We gathered around a great fire pit. Savage organized an impressive fire that Corpse Foot tended and maintained to its full glory. As we sat around eating dinner and joking, darkness descended in our gorge. B~~~~ mentioned that he had eaten a bunch of Chicken of the Woods mushrooms. However, as he described the fungus, WB frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Chicken of the Woods. That may be Hen of the Woods. Or . . .,” she trailed off. B~~~~~’s face turned green with concern. “You will probably be ok,” WB quickly concluded unconvincingly. (Spoiler alert: B~~~~ survived!)
We all went to our tents later than on many DC UL trips. The comfortable temperatures and big miles of the day made the night pass quickly.
Because the Cranberry Wilderness Mystery Tour group had 9 miles to hike versus the other group’s 7 miles, we departed earlier on Sunday. Having abandoned the “Beetles theme,” I belted out a wakeup call inspired by music legend, Prince. “Good morning, DC UL! As Prince sings: wear your ‘Cranberry Beret’—the kind you find in a second-hand store. But whatever hat you wear, we start hiking at 7:00!”
We started hiking steeply up the mountain—yes, all 9 miles would be “up”—on the Beechy Trail. Unlike our prior experience of well-graded trails in this Wilderness, Beechy was, well, a “Beech.” It had sections that were very steep—especially at the bottom. Adding to the challenge was more of the bushwacking-like experience from the prior day. Worse, there were frequent deadfalls blocking the trail, making the hike even more challenging. The heavy wet drape of humidity began feeling oppressive. There were sections where, like the North-South Trail, the trail kept disappearing in overgrown brush. It was hot and tiring, but we were up to it. By 10:30 a.m. we reached my car.
The two groups met up in nearby Marlinton, WV for lunch. We stumbled on “Mountain Tavern,” an Italian-Greek restaurant that easily seated all nine of us with room to spare. The owner was a young guy from Florida who recently opened the restaurant. A friendly guy, he dropped a case of cold IPAs on the center of the table—unordered—simply saying “you’ll know what to do with these.” After spending a weekend getting lost on overgrown trails and surviving poisonous mushrooms, we certainly did know what to do with them! We toasted another successful DC UL adventure.
- David O (“Spider-Man”)
- Cover photo credit: GBB
DC UL Backpacking 
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