Hiking on a four-mile long “knife’s edge” trail on the top of a long mountain, with leaf-free winter views on both sides, I composed an outline of this Trip Report in my mind. Frankly, it was writing itself. We had backpacked from Clifton Forge, Va., north through Douthat State Park, to Warm Springs, Va. I never hiked Douthat (pronounced “DOWthat” and not “Do That”) and, when planning this trip, could have cared less about the park. I loved the name! “Douthat.” The dad-joke and pun potential was endless! It would be even funnier than our “We Otter Go Backpacking” trip to Otter Creek Wilderness in West Virginia! I’d have everyone in stitches!
I rationalized that, even if the park was not as interesting as its name, we’d still have the Jefferson Baths to enjoy at the end of this freezing weather trip. Now called “Warm Springs Pools,” President Thomas Jefferson used to ride by horse out to these hot springs from Charlottesville to soak in the crystal-clear 99 degree natural hot tub. He believed, on recommendation of his Secretary of Health and Human Services, that “taking the waters” would treat his rheumatism. (Back in the 1800s US presidents appointed people to lead the HHS who lacked clinical disease treatment experience). Anyway, we did not need to ride horses to the springs; all we had to do was backpack 30 miles to them. Yes, I had this Trip Report outline all ready to go.
And, then, Holley (“Banshee”) tried to make this trip all about herself. This was surprising because Banshee almost canceled her participation on this trip at the last moment and planned to keep a low profile. A day before the trip she started reaching for the “edit RSVP” button to cancel. She noted the “Polar Vortex” forecasted to bring frigid air to Virginia from Canada. Temperatures would drop to 20 degrees with strong winds bringing the wind chill to the single digits. She reviewed the large elevation gains and losses. She worried she had not been backpacking with DC UL for a few months and was in an “I’d rather not suffer” phase of her life. She does not like dealing with the logistics of point-to-point shuttle hikes, like this one. Although she never said so, I’m sure the main cause of her equivocation was the likelihood I’d make never ending, tiresome “Douthat/Do That” puns. I’m sure some part of her now wishes she followed her instinct. However, she came and I’m sure she will never forget this trip.
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Friday night after work we left the Washington, DC area in four separate cars for the northern terminus of our trail near Warm Springs, Va. We needed all the cars to set up a 50 minute long shuttle to the southern terminus in Clifton Forge, Va. After setting up the shuttle in the south, we camped near our cars along a strong stream in a nice wooded clearing. The long drive and shuttle setup meant an immediate bedtime in our tents.
One did not even have to have been on this trip to know my 6:30 a.m. wake-up yell. Of course, I shouted “Good morning, DC UL! Let’s do that in Douthat!”
We quickly broke camp and, when each was fully packed, we stood in a circle making small-talk. At some point someone asked if there was a reason we had not started hiking since we were all wearing packs and ready to walk. I pulled out my iPhone and showed them the time. It was 7:28–two minutes before the 7:30 start time I called. We waited the two minutes for no good reason and then began hiking.
I had not known DC UL to have previously hiked this full route. Generally easy to follow in the winter with the leaves off the trees, it might be more challenging to navigate in summer. The trail started very gently on an obviously abandoned fire road. The woods were very pretty and felt remote. We talked easily as we walked.
David U (“Baseball”) was on his first DC UL trip since having moved to Texas. He told us all about his “girlfriend” that none of us met because “she lives in Canada,” and who we could not even talk to to confirm the relationship because “she speaks French.” I asked Baseball if he was still in middle school because every boy I ever knew in middle school had such a “girlfriend” one could never meet because she lives in “Canada.” He vouched for his veracity—just like every boy I ever knew in middle school did. Clearly, American boys are irresistible to Canadian girls.
Maddie talked about her upcoming wedding. She’s an avid backpacker; her fiance less so. She really asked him, and I’m not making this up, “can we do our honeymoon on DC UL’s Tour du Mont Blanc trip in Switzerland?” Later on the trail, on a mountain top break, she got a cell signal and planned her bachelorette party. Naturally, it was a backpacking trip and she needed to pull a permit in a lottery. As I observed her making the arrangements, I unsuccessfully hinted my availability to attend the party. I’ve never been to a bachelorette party and, frankly, never wanted to attend one. However, her backpacking trip/party plan sounded really fun. I had a great time on Jonathan’s (“Shenanigans’”) bachelor party/backpacking trip last year, so I have experience with this concept.
Aneesh, who seems to be going to every DC UL backpacking trip this year, was showing off his incredible fitness. He and Baseball alternately took the lead on our pack line setting a consistently ambitious pace. Baseball matched Aneesh stride by stride, with Baseball regularly taking leads, but he would concede at the end of the hike that maybe he ought to have eased up on the throttle a bit. Back at the cars, Aneesh looked like was ready to climb Mt. Everest; Baseball admitted his fatigue, but it was nothing a long soak in some natural hot springs couldn’t cure!
Beth (“Girl with the Big Backpack” or “GBB”) introduced us to her partner James. The two of them have been extensively backpacking in Montana, where James is based. GBB is now a DC UL stalwart; this was only James’ second trip with us. The only thing keeping them from being another of the great DC UL couples—like Karan & Kylie and Michael & Jen—was the fact that GBB is a high ranking “”Veteran Plus Member” of DC UL while James was still ranked as an “Applicant.”
The trail changed from abandoned fire road to a nice single-track trail through leafy rhododendrons. I was looking for the Blue Suck Falls, which appeared on the map to be a highlight of this trail. When we got to a falls off the trail I did not have to guess at why someone named the falls “sucks.” It was no more than a 2 foot drop! I could not figure out what was “blue” about it.
Eventually, we entered Douthat State Park. The sun was out bright and the temperature rose to a delightful hiking level. The park trails were very well marked and maintained. Nicely graded, they made the climbs and descents more gentle then the elevation charts suggested. We took long breaks at a hiker cabin at Tuscarora Overlook near the top of Middle Mountain and, later, at what I then realized to be the real Blue Suck Falls.
The overlook featured very nice views of the east. We ate lunch and snacks on the porch of the cabin and had a thermodynamics experiment. The radiating sunlight on the cabin made one very hot when sitting against it on the porch. I got so hot I had to strip to my base layer. However, when I moved two feet to the edge of the porch I needed to put on my fleece and puffer to be comfortable.
Some of us had a cell signal by this cabin. As Maddie was making her bachelorette plans previously described, GBB checked her email. The world’s richest man had a question for her! Really. Elon Musk wanted to know five things she accomplished last week at work. On our hike we had each pushed aside fallen branches on the trail as we passed so, she wondered aloud, could she write “helped maintain national forest trails not yet cleared due to recent cuts to the Forest Service staff?” Saying she’d deal with this later, we all hefted our packs and continued onward toward the falls.
The real Blue Suck Falls ran strong and high. Relaxing at the falls, and looking at the fast hiking pace Aneesh and Baseball set for us, I pointed out that we were on track to be at camp very, very early—by 2:00 p.m. Since the Polar Vortex was predicted to hit us around 5:00 p.m., it would have been uncomfortable to spend so much time shivering at camp. Due to the expected high winds, having a fire would be too risky. I suggested hiking back up the mountain we just descended to do a triangle loop in Douthat that I plotted on my map. I originally advertised a 15 mile day. My new plan would increase this to 20 miles, and it would throw in a couple of big bonus climbs. However, we’d be warmer hiking than sitting for hours at camp.
Not everyone was initially enthusiastic about this proposal. I saw heads buried in gps maps and people in side conversations. Economists refer to this sensation as “being on the margin”—when one analyzes the effect of the next unit of effort. An economics professor of mine once memorably illustrated this concept: imagine being at a store repeatedly picking up and putting back an item on the shelf as one considers the price versus the utility of the item. That moment of indecision is when one is “on the margin.” (Yes! I successfully embedded a second economic principle into a backpacking Trip Report! I’m sure GBB, who is an economist by trade, is impressed). Maddie, impatient with this economics lesson, took a nap on a rock in the middle of a soothingly bubbling stream.
Half of us seemed interested in the extra miles that we called the “triangle” because the loop roughly looked like that shape. The other half seemed inclined to stick to the regularly scheduled program of 15 miles.
“I don’t think we’re going to do the triangle,” GBB said with James nodding in agreement. “It’s fine to get to camp early and we don’t even know if there is anything to see on the triangle.” At least one other hiker agreed. I could not fault them. My plan was, literally, to waste time. However, I decided to change tack from economics to marketing. I ventured, “its not technically a ‘triangle,’ because we have to hike to and from the loop. It’s really a ‘lollipop.” That made the plan much more exciting. What is more fun than a lollipop! GBB was clearly reconsidering. James then put the matter to rest. “If we did the lollipop and hiked 20 miles today would I earn Veteran Member status in DC UL?” (See, he was clearly needing this credential to solidify his relationship with GBB). “Yes!” I replied. Most of us committed to the lollipop.
The hike back up the mountain was surprisingly challenging. We took a different trail up and it was not nearly as gently graded as the other trails of the day. Worse, it featured numerous tree blow downs that challenged passage. It is strenuous to climb over, around, and through fallen trees across a trail. We reached the triangle (which I no longer called a “lollipop” now that everyone was committed) and we were pleased with the addition. We enjoyed a very nice long ridge hike, and the descent down and back up the triangle was pretty. The balance of the day featured a long, descending ridge walk to camp.
Arriving at a trail junction, a half mile from camp, I realized that we would only hike 19 miles that day, not the 20 miles James needed for him to earn Veteran Member status at DC UL. I mentioned this to him. He gave me the look saying, “it is close enough, right?” He pointed out that iPhone gps reports are really estimates and that we may have hiked more than 20 miles already. His position was completely logical. What is the point of hiking a half mile up a trail and a half mile back just to hike an extra mile for an arbitrary DC UL classification? Of course, he was talking to me—the guy who would not start our hike at 7:28 a.m. that very morning because the hike was scheduled to start at 7:30 a.m., and the guy who proposed an extra 5 mile hike just to kill time. Also, there is precedent for strict application of DC UL rules. Look at our “Hall of Fame.” On the Four State Challenge in 2021 there is one hiker who hiked 44 miles within 24 hours, across the borders of Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, and, almost, Pennsylvania, but who has an asterisk next to his accomplishment. He did not do the relatively pointless half mile walk from Penn Mar Park near the Maryland border to the Pennsylvania line and back to “officially” tag Pennsylvania.
James did not seem to me to be an asterisk kind of guy. He steeled himself for another pointless stroll. I volunteered to hike with him and think we had a pleasant time together. We talked about AI and engineering. (He’s an engineer). He mentioned that, even with computers that can calculate exact engineering specifications, engineers still add an extra margin to the calculation just in case it is needed. This is called a “safety factor.” I asked, if a ‘safety factor’ is similar to hiking an extra mile to make sure someone actually hikes 20 miles instead of 19? He just glared at me.
By the time we all set up camp Saturday night and sat around in a circle for dinner the sun was beginning to set. The Polar Vortex was, as predicted, causing the temperature to drop and we ate in puffers, hats, and mittens. Baseball held firm to his practice of not cooking. I brought a handy meal I bought from an Indian grocery. It is marketed as an “add hot water” meal in a cup, but if one throws away the cup it is a very compactly packaged backpacker meal. I reconstituted it in a mylar bag. It was delicious! I find the Backpacker’s Pantry-style Indian meals one can buy at REI dreadful. So, it was nice to stumble on this.
As we ate and enjoyed each others company, I proposed we do a “10 before 10” the next day—10 miles before 10:00 a.m. This is both a cool thing to do and would give us plenty of time to finish the trail and make it to the hot springs by our noon reservation. The idea seemed to have traction until everyone internalized this would mean waking at 5:30 a.m. Baseball gamely volunteered to join me if I really wanted to go for it. Aneesh was also willing. However, Aneesh pointed out—incorrectly as it turned out—that we only had 9 miles left to hike on Sunday. Because a “9 before 10” just sounds stupid, we abandoned the concept.
With the wind chill causing the cold to get more intense, we retreated to our tents before needing headlamps. It would be a long night.
I woke, wide awake, and checked the time. Midnight. I looked outside. Baseball’s tent was lit up, as was another’s. I listened to a podcast and tried to sleep. It was very cold. I put on my puffer under my quilt to stay warm. The wind was noisy and, alarmingly, I could hear the concerning squeak of a tree that could fall. I tried to spot the source with my headlamp, but it was not possible. I had to trust that my site selection was good—I did look before I pitched my tent for overhead branches or unhealthy-looking trees. The squeaking tree did not sound like it was close and I tried to set aside my anxiety. I later learned that Maddie, who pitched her tent away from the rest of the group, was extra concerned by the squeaking tree that she also heard. In her mind, she was more vulnerable than we because she was tenting away from the group. I’m not sure trees seek out solo campers, but happily we never found out.
With the wind and cold Sunday morning, I did not shout a wake-up call at 6:00 a.m. Our tents were dispersed enough and the wind loud enough that no one would have heard me anyway. Breaking camp in subfreezing temperatures is always challenging. It is hard to manipulate gear with heavy mittens. But, most of us got ready on schedule. Banshee, Baseball, and I started doing jumping jacks to get warm as we waited for everyone to pack so we could start hiking.
However, Maddie’s tent was still closed and she did not appear to be moving. James investigated and found that she was still sleeping. Remarkably, she woke and broke camp within 15 minutes. We were back on the trail at 7:00 a.m.
Sunday involved hiking in the Forest north of Douthat. We started with some big, long climbs. In the freezing weather, though, it felt really good to have this level of exertion. For the most part the trails were easy to follow, just as they were in the Forest south of the Douthat. However, at one point, an actual sign pointed in the direction of the trail that was clearly abandoned. We bushwhacked up a mountain, relying on gps to make sure we were headed in the correct direction.
We generally hiked as a group on this trip, no one ever more than a few minutes away from each other. At a trail junction four miles from the end Aneesh and I stopped for everyone to catch up. Finishing a solid backpacking hike always feels great. The thought of going from the cold air and mountain climbs to floating in a natural hot spring was wonderful. The name of the trail at this point was called “Little Mare” but on the map, under the name of the trail, was the word “Nightmare” in parentheses. The nickname puzzled me. This trail was a very nice, scenic ridge walk. It was easy to follow with few obstacles. There was nothing nightmarish about it, I thought—until Banshee arrived.
Banshee approached Aneesh and me with her usual smile and good spirits, but with a red knee pad on her right knee. I haven’t before seen that fashion accessory. I know she likes 80s music; maybe she wears a single red knee pad like Michael Jackson wears a single sequined white glove, I thought.
She sat next to us and casually mentioned that she tripped and fell on a rock. She was not wearing a red knee pad, her knee was soaked with blood! She said it did not hurt and seemed unconcerned, but thought she ought to examine her cut. She hiked off the trail away from us so she could lower her pants to inspect the cut. She returned to state what Aneesh and I both knew—this was more than just a little cut.
Aneesh and I pulled out our first aid kits. Banshee exposed her knee and she clearly needed stitches. It was a straight gash completely across her knee with a steady flow of blood. I opened a couple of extra-large adhesive bandages thinking Banshee could put them side by side over her cut to cover it. Aneesh pulled out gauze and tape, suggesting the bandages would not hold. Maddie hiked up, assessed the situation, and produced some suture tape. This impressed me for two reasons. First, Maddie is fond of the “let it fix itself” approach to things. On a prior trip, when my car died near our trailhead, Maddie’s hopeful solution was that “maybe the car will just, like, fix itself” by the time we finished the trip. Second, I had not heard of suture tape. These thin adhesive strips peel off and one can use them perpendicular to a cut to hold it somewhat closed. Then, gauze and tape holds the whole thing together. She washed the cut, closed the wound with the suture tape, applied the gauze, and taped it up around the knee.
Banshee said she felt fine to hike down to the cars and maintained she was in no pain and was clear minded. She said—and I’m not making this up—“the worst that will happen is I’ll just bleed out.” Whoa! Well . . . sure . . . that is the “worst” that will “just” happen. But why bring that up? Was there something she knew she wasn’t saying? Evidentially seeing horror on my face, she clarified that she meant bleeding on her clothes, not death by “bleeding out.”
We hiked mostly in silence for the next hour. Once at the cars, Aneesh generously volunteered to take Banshee to an urgent care center in Staunton. This is the second time he helped rescue an injured hiker. On a trip to Hiner Springs, he helped a non-DC UL hiker injured by a falling branch hike off the mountain. He is such a nice guy! It took a lot of time, and 10 stitches, but a doctor took care of Banshee.
When I predicted I’d have my friends “in stitches” on this trip I meant with my Douthat puns, Banshee clearly took it as a literal challenge. Banshee reported she is recovering well.
The rest of us took the very short drive to the hot springs. As expected, they felt delightful after a long hike in cold weather. The spring is a rustic experience. It is covered with a clapboard hut, but is unheated by anything but the spring itself—and the heat seems to stay in the water. So, we shivered as we stripped down and rushed into the hot water. The water is crystal clear; one can see one’s feet and the stones at the bottom clearly when standing. The water is just a bit above body temperature so it is pleasant, especially at first, but would be nicer if it was a touch hotter. Nature can be unthoughtful at times. The water has a slight sulfur smell, but was much better than sweaty backpacker smell. One could see the small bubbles of sulfur rising from the bottom. (No, really! It is the spring’s bubbles and nothing from—ahem—bodies).
After soaking and dressing we reversed the shuttle, marveling at our spa-soft skin and cured rheumatism. We had lunch at Jack Mason’s Tavern & Brewery in Clifton Forge before driving back to D.C. James basked in his hard-won status as a DC UL Veteran Member.
Except for Banshee’s effort to make this trip all about her, it was a terrific adventure. The combination of interesting mountains, well-graded climbs, nice long ridge walks, a good waterfall, and the hot springs makes this a trip DC UL should repeat. Stated differently—and do you really need me to write it?—I think DC UL should Douthat again!
—- David O (“Spider-Man”)
