Memorial Day weekend in 1981 I proposed to Donna, in Virginia’s beautiful Shenandoah National Park (she said yes). We stayed at the rustic Skyland Lodge, between mile markers 41 and 42 on the scenic 105-mile-long Skyline Drive that runs along the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains through the park.
Recently we decided to return to that romantic spot and a momentous
time in our lives. Donna booked a room at the still-standing Skyland Lodge and
we began our online search for the place where we started our together lives.
The spot where I knelt those 45 years ago was by the base of a tall waterfall. We couldn’t recall its location or name but thought that with a little digging we could find it.
There are dozens of trails in the park with varying lengths
and levels of difficulty, and more than a dozen named waterfalls, and many more
smaller, unnamed falls.
Back then we were not hikers; we didn’t own hiking shoes or
backpacks, so it couldn’t have been too far off a parking lot or pull-off
(although we were 45 years younger and maybe what seems strenuous today was an
easy stroll back then). We both have memories of being behind the falls.
We delved into online resources about waterfalls in the park, first
of those near Skyland, then, failing to identify plausible sites, we widened
our search to any falls in the park not requiring more than a mile of strenuous
hiking. We came up empty handed – of the
larger waterfalls in the park, few are easily accessible. No matter, we
thought; when we get to the lodge, we’ll ask for help. Surely they will know of
a close-by falls.
The drive to the park is gorgeous, dotted with quaint towns
and beautiful scenery. Once on Skyland Drive, however, the views of the Blue
Ridge Mountains, and behind them, the Appalachian Mountains, are breathtaking.
There are many scenic overlooks that provide vistas that are hard to describe:
millions of trees covering seemingly endless hills and valleys, and beyond that
the majestic blue ridgelines of ageless mountains. The vastness of it is
similar to seeing the Grand Canyon from its rim: There is an odd beauty in
feeling so insignificant among such bigness.
We arrived at the lodge around 1 pm already dressed for
hiking. Our room wasn’t ready but the woman at the front desk suggested a
couple trails for an afternoon hike: one whose trailhead was very close to the
lodge was a 3-mile, moderately strenuous loop along the Little Stony Man Cliffs
to the 4,000-foot summit with a wonderful vista; the other trail, a nine-mile
drive away, was just 1.4-miles long and terminates at a 70-foot waterfall
called Dark Hollow Falls. Perhaps that was our proposal falls?
We opted for the close vista hike and to save the Dark
Hollow Falls hike, which we imagined could be our proposal falls, for the next
day. We grabbed a quick bite to eat and started off.
The trail was through thick forest, with lots of switchbacks.
The summit is a popular destination and when we arrived there were a handful of
other hikers admiring the spectacular view from atop boulders. We joined them
for about 10 minutes before returning to the lodge. We checked in, got cleaned
up, had a good, hearty meal at the lodge’s dining room, then returned to the
deck off our room for a magnificent sunset and later, an equally magnificent
night sky filled with stars.
The next morning we drove to another lodge, at Big Meadows,
to check out the 2.7-mile Lewis Falls Trail. It was a more arduous trek, and like
the Stony Man Trail we had hiked the day before, had an elevation gain of close
to 1,000 feet. There was not a soul on the trail except for one lone hiker we
met at Blackrock Vista.
The trail, more than a mile of which is part of the great
Appalachian Trail, takes you deep into the ancient forest where sunlight
struggles to penetrate, and the massive rocks and cliffs, fields of ferns, and extreme
quiet give you a sense of being in a prehistoric land. We expected to see grazing
dinosaurs.
The waterfall, about halfway around the loop, was disappointing.
Yes, you could see it and hear it as it cascaded down the mountain, but it didn’t
strike you with any sense of awe. For the energy we had exerted in getting to
it, including some challenging rock scrabbling – and had to exert to get back
to the trailhead – the juice wasn’t worth the squeeze. And it was decidedly not
our falls. Still, we enjoyed the beauty and solitude the trail provided,
and appreciate that there are such places untouched, as they were millennia ago,
available to explore, and experience, and imagine who else or what else may
have trod these forests in ages past.
We caught our breath at Big Meadows Lodge, then drove a
short distance to the trailhead for Dark Hollow Falls. This, our final hike in
Shenandoah, must be it, we reasoned – or more accurately, hoped.
It’s an easy, pleasant hike with a wide trail that follows a
stream. One of the most popular trails in Shenandoah, it was bustling with casual
hikers. The trail drops hundreds of feet and delivers you to the base of majestic
Dark Hollow Falls. The rushing water crashes against the rocks before winding onward
as the Hogcamp Branch of the Rose River. It was beautiful, and stirred within us
memories from 45 years ago.
It’s not quite as we remember it, but I think we found our
elusive waterfall.
At least, that’s our story, and we’re sticking to it.
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