Back in November, I finally had the opportunity to undertake a weekend trip into a place that has long been on my "to visit" list. The St. Mary's Wilderness is a 10,000 acre federally-designated Wilderness Area in Virginia's George Washington National Forest, just south of Waynesboro. The area has a reputation for scenic mountain streams, a gorgeous waterfall, and history in the form of remnants of iron and magnesium mining operations from the mid-20th century. I actually had plans to spend a weekend in the area with a friend back in Spring of 2017 that fell through at the last minute due to a personal emergency- so it was nice to finally have the time to make a visit happen 4.5 years later.
I decided to undertake a modified version of the
itinerary suggested on the MidAtlanticHikes.com page for the area. Rather than start and end my hike, I'd start at the downriver trailhead along the St. Mary's River. And I'd pick a basecamp somewhere near the junction that starts and ends the loop, allowing me to hike the loop itself with just a day pack. The result was a lollipop route of sorts, with an additional out-and-back side trek to visit the falls.
I wasn't able to arrive at the St. Mary's River trailhead until late on Friday evening, well after dark. To my surprise, there was a group camped right in the trailhead parking area, with a roaring fire going in the gravel lot. National Forest regulations tend to be fairly liberal, but the St. Mary's Wilderness is one portion of the George Washington National Forest that has been subjected to additional regulations due to overuse and abuse- and two of those added regulations are very explicit in that neither camping nor campfires are permitted anywhere near the St. Mary's River trailhead. This group was either unaware, or simply didn't care.
No matter, my destination lay several miles upriver on the St. Mary's River, deep into the Wilderness Area. I started out on the old road, which parallels the river. The moon was just about full, and at times I was provided with excellent moon-lit views over the river.
For the most part, even the dark, the route was fairly obvious and well maintained, and soon I was crossing the river at the first wet crossing. I made it across easily, although without waterproof boots my feet would've gotten wet.
Whereas the old road bed made only a single crossing of the river between the trailhead and the turn off at Sugartree Branch, the modern day trail makes three crossings. The second and third crossings are necessary to avoid a stretch of the old road bed that has washed out along a cliff face dropping into the river. I missed the turnoff to the second crossing... and instead found myself clinging to a narrow ledge above the river. It was still passable- barely- but also not for the faint of heart as a slip or a trip here would send one tumbling into the river about 8 or 10 feet below.
I soon made it to Sugar Tree Branch. Here, the St. Mary's Waterfall Trail continues up the river whereas the main St. Mary's Trail- which provides the main access deeper into the Wilderness- turns to ascend along Sugartree Branch. As my goal for the night was a tent site further into the backcountry, I took this route and climbed alongside the tributary- which I could hear splashing and crashing but not quite see in the darkness.
My intended destination for the night was one of a number of campsites that existed in the vicinity of Mine Bank Creek that I'd read about during research in preparation for the trip. In fact, about tenth of a mile before reaching Mine Bank Creek, I found a nice established site a short distance off trail above an unnamed tributary of the St. Mary's River. There was plenty of flat ground here so I decided to call dibs and move in for the weekend. Not much more than 2 hours after leaving the trailhead, I was all set to turn in for the night.
I spent a moderately frosty night that had me wishing I'd carried a slightly warmer sleeping bag. In any case, however, I was up and moving about early the next morning, as I had plans to try to traverse the roughly 10 mile loop consisting of the St. Mary's Trail, the Bald Mountain Jeep Trail, the Bald Mountain Overlook Trail, and the Mine Bank Trail- and I wanted time to poke around and explore along the way.
Before departing, I spent a few minutes poking around the vicinity of my campsite. It was soon obvious that I was camped atop mining remnants- I had a bit of a tailings pile beneath my feet to thank for the relatively level, flat ground. Indentations in the hillside nearby, densely covered in mountain laurel, were all that remained of the harvested bedrock and ores.
I also found a smaller but also nice campsite above mine, on a stretch of old road grade that disappeared uphill into the forest beyond.
Before long, I had my day pack packed and I was ready to set out for the day. A few minutes outside of camp I arrived at the junction with the Mine Bank Trail.
I'd decided to hike the loop clockwise, so I stayed straight on the St. Mary's Trail. Shortly beyond the junction, I arrived at Mine Bank Creek itself, which was easily rock hopped across.
I also took a short detour downstream on Mine Bank Creek to check out the confluence of that creek with the St. Mary's River.
About 10 minutes or so beyond the Mine Bank Creek, I noticed a fairly well established but unmarked side path that branched off of the St. Mary's Trail to the north. I followed this path a few hundred feet off trail to a couple of campsites located near a small tributary of the St. Mary's River- one of these sites was pretty "eh," but the other was moderately sized and fairly nice, with a couple of stone seats facing the firepit and room for maybe 2 or 3 tents.
Back on the main trail and not too far beyond, I arrived at a small stream that I easily rock hopped across. This stream is nameless on the USGS topo map, but some other maps refer to it as Bear Branch.
Just beyond the Bear Branch crossing was a large and level area that was clearly once another focal point of mining operations in the St. Mary's valley. Several old concrete foundations stood out alongside the trail. What their purpose served I was only able to wonder.
Adjacent to the foundations was another broad and flat spot in the forest, possibly also the spread tailings left over from mining operations. This patch of flat ground was also clearly a moderately popular spot for camping- I spotted one fairly well-established and well-used fire pit, as well as the remnants of 2 or 3 other old pits that appeared as though they hadn't been used in a few years. The amplitude of flat ground conducive to tenting here clearly gets occasional use by multiple groups sharing it concurrently, but I think the relative remoteness of this particular spot helps to keep this from being a common occurrence.
Just as I was getting ready to continue onwards, I did spy a moderately well-established path that branched off to the northwest. I followed this a few hundred feet to another large and nice campsite on a high bank overlooking the St. Mary's River. Clearly another choice spot to camp.
I'd also started to notice by this point that some of the campsites I'd visited had old metal tags with stamped letters and numbers nailed to nearby trees. At first I'd though that it was maybe an old system of marking campsites, but the letters/numbers made no sense. I eventually decided that they were likely the remnants of a long defunct research project involving the campsites- perhaps measuring resource impacts at each site over time. The tags were not new, and indeed some of them were quite close to falling off of the trees to which they are affixed.
From the campsites at Bear Branch I continued onwards to the east, slowly ascending further up the St. Mary's River drainage on the old road. Soon I was rock hopping across Chimney Branch, another tributary of the St. Mary's River...
... and not far beyond I was rock hopping across the St. Mary's River itself, much smaller here than it was even only a mile or two downstream.
Soon the climb became much steeper, as well as a bit more washed out and rugged, as I began to climb and out of the valley itself. It was far from a horrendous climb, but as I was stilly evidently following an old road, I found myself wondering just how well jeeps and trucks must've fared traversing this route in decades past, prior to the cessation of mining operations and the area's designation as a federal Wilderness Area. .
Eventually, the old road leveled off amidst rocky outcrops and a few views through the trees back out over the valley. Not long after it became fairly flat, I arrived at the far end of the Wilderness Area, as denoted by the classic wooden US Forest Service Wilderness Area sign.
Multiple maps had promised a pond in the vicinity of the Wilderness Area boundary. I found it, nestled in a stand of pines and mountain laurels, a short distance to the southeast. It was small, fairly marshy, and well on its way to filling in, but it was a pretty sight nonetheless. I'm sure that a relatively-high elevation ridge-top pond in an area that is otherwise largely devoid of ponds and lakes is probably host to a somewhat locally unique ecosystem.
The pond also bore evidence to how low the overnight temperatures had dropped up here, as evidenced by the thin veneer of ice on the surface of the water.
While poking around the vicinity, I also stumbled across a decently well established campsite hidden in the forest on the west side of the pond. It was a bit on the smaller side, but otherwise nice.
The vicinity of Green Pond is host to a number of old roads and trails and it took some trial and error to find the route eastward to the Bald Mountain Jeep Trail. It looks like hikers have largely forsaken the old road bed for a herd path that runs parallel through the woods to avoid a few wet spots. Soon, however, I was stepping out of the woods and onto the Jeep trail.
The Bald Mountain Jeep Trail is an OHV trail that traverses the ridgeline above the St. Mary's Wilderness, and for the next several miles it would be my route on foot, all the way to the east end of the Bald Mountain Overlook Trail. I had a bit of trepidation about walking what is essentially a trail primarily intended for use by off-road vehicles, but for the most part it made for a fine walking surface. It was rocky in spots, but no worse than anything else I'd traversed on the area's foot trails. There were a few puddles but for the most part these were very easy to walk around and my feet stayed perfectly dry.
Just about every pull off alongside the Jeep trail had a fire pit... some of these pull offs clearly began life as drainage ditches that had slowly filled in over time. I'm not sure that I'd be super keen on camping in a spot that all of the runoff from the road obviously drains to. (And as I would find, there were much nicer and better-drained campsites along the road further east, closer to the Blue Ridge Parkway.)
While making my way up Flint Mountain via a series of switchbacks in the Jeep trail, I came across a Toyota parked alongside the road. At first, I figured it was a hunter who was off in the woods somewhere nearby... but as I approached closer to the parked truck, I noticed that it had clearly been sitting there for some time. The windshield had accumulated a substantial number of fallen pine needles, and the smashed driver's side window was covered in a tattered plastic bag.
And the other side of the truck came with another surprise- the suspension for the passenger side front wheel was pretty much done for. It looked like a temporary repair had been attempted using ratcheting straps, without any success.
What calamity had befallen the truck exactly, I would only wonder. In my mind, I wanted to imagine that the driver had managed to roll it, although I suspect that the windows and frame would be in visibly worse shape if this had been the case. Regardless of the root cause, the truck was clearly going nowhere anytime soon. The Forest Service was clearly aware of the truck's predicament- a Forest Service law enforcement officer had placed a noticed on the dashboard advising the truck's owners that it needed to be removed from National Forest lands or else the truck would be seized. The deadline for the removal had come and gone without any hint of activity on the part of the truck's owners or the Forest Service. It would not all surprise me if the truck were still there now, several months later.
Not long after the summit of Flint Mountain, I passed a pull off on the east side of the road that drew my attention. A brushy herd path departed from the end of the pull off. As nothing was indicated on my map, my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to see where it went.
Continued in next post...
