Shenandoah: A Crash Course in Connecting with Nature 

A first-time trip to Virginia’s Shenandoah National Park with the Mountaineering Club, navigating challenging trails, cold river crossings, and crisp winter air. Along the way, the trip becomes a journey of discovery, friendship, and connection to nature’s quiet beauty.

I never thought I would spend a weekend trudging through the wilderness with a 65-liter backpack, crossing frigid rivers, and sleeping under the stars. Yet, in the spring of my second year, I found myself embarking on my first backpacking trip with the university’s Mountaineering Club. Destination: Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. 

Shenandoah National Park is famous for its scenic Skyline Drive: 105-mile road that rides along the crest of the blue ridge mountains. The park sprawls across the Blue Ridge Mountains, part of the Appalachian Trail, rocky ridges, and valleys painted in shades of green that were almost otherworldly. In February, we got to experience the small crowds were bare trees, roaming white tail deer, and great visibility. The park felt warmer than expected. Its rocky paths are more than just trails—they are tests of endurance, with steep inclines that force you to lean forward, gripping tree roots like climbing ropes, and descents that challenge your knees. 

Pulling into the lot we saw a herd of white tail deer running alongside the road. The seven of us piled out of the car and started the hike at the Turk Mountain trailhead where the unmistakable crunch of gravel under our boots became the background music to the 22-mile loop. The trail wove through dense woods whereas the sun slowly went down sunlight sliced through the bare trees. My fear of carrying my 65-liter pack on my back grew each step of the descent of our first 500 feet of elevation.

We hiked about 3 miles before sunset and set up camp. Noah, a co-trip leader, taught me the basics of setting up camp. Since Shenandoah is bear country, it is important to hang your food off trail and away from camp. I also learned how to set up a tent and how to use a camping stove. For dinner, I enjoyed a bowl of Shien ramen. Across from me, Thomas who was on his first backpacking trip, was eating a “ram-bomb.” The ram-bomb was a mix of instant mashed potatoes that could feed a family of four and ramen. This low-cost meal was an established staple in Mountaineering club and always induced a midnight bathroom break. 

The next day, we descended an additional 1500 feet to the first of three major river crossings. Some of us, more daring than others, decided to perform a balancing act using dry rocks peeking out of the river as steppingstones. Alex, a seasoned mountaineer, failed on his first attempt to cross the river. After seeing Alex fall, I decided to change into my crocs and walk through the shallow parts. Moorman’s river was iced cold and slapped at our shins as we stepped carefully across slippery rocks. 

The air in Shenandoah is unlike anything I have experienced. It is crisp and clean, almost medicinal. As we climbed deeper into the valley, the details began to blur into a rhythm. The crunch of boots on gravel, the murmur conversations over food, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot became a comforting soundtrack. 

 We set up camp right before the last major river crossing. I used the skills Noah taught me to speed up the setup of the tent and the bear bag. Alex was still walking in his soaking wet socks and shoes complaining about how gross his foot was. By the river there was a beautiful clearing on a rock that was perfect for stargazing.  

 In the final morning, we emerged from our tents into the sharp sting of frigid air, our breath visible as we sipped our water from Nalgene’s and packed up camp for the hike out. We were supposed to leave at seven but knowing that we would have to go up the elevation we came down we were slow to get going. 

The hike out was the highlight of this trip. As we climbed to one of the park’s many overlooks, the fog rolled in, softening the edges of the trees and hills below. It was as if the forest had exhaled, blanketing the valley in a layer of mystery. The view was not dramatic in the postcard-perfect sense; instead, it was subdued and eerie.  

My first time backpacking felt like a door opening to a new world. Shenandoah was the perfect guide: steady, grounding, and full of surprises if you paid attention.