Shenandoah: Revisiting Changing Landscape

A second-time trip to Virginia’s Shenandoah National Park with the Mountaineering Club, navigating leading a group, a new season, and changing environment. Along the way, the trip becomes a journey of nostalgia, reflection, and growth.

Eight months after my first backpacking trip, I was back at Shenandoah National Park. Shenandoah was no longer just the introduction of my first adventure. It had become a memory of how I fell in love with backpacking. Where February had been a test of endurance against winter’s chill, October painted the park in hues of amber and yellow, transforming familiar trails into something almost unrecognizable. 

Thomas, Emily, and I, co-leaders of the trip, grew excited as we had the opportunity to introduce the place where our backpacking journeys began. We called the trip ShenanDONATELLA VERSACE because, like the iconic designer, this adventure was going to be beautiful. As a group of seven, we retraced old steps while forging new memories alongside Thomas and I’s old ones.  

This time, we started at the north entrance and stopped at the Harry F. Byrd Sr. Visitor Center before heading to the trailhead. Driving 75 minutes through part of Skyline Drive gave us a preview of the park’s transformation. The bare trees of winter were now cast with oranges and reds. The air, though crisp, lacked the ice-cold sting in February.  

On the trail, the differences brought nostalgic smiles to our faces. The once muted winter woods came to life with the falling rust-colored leaves and rustling of a wildlife darting through. The fall season had a relaxing view for hikers and their pets to take short trails and enjoy the changing leaves. Through-hikers completing sections of the Appalachian Trail joined us at camp for the night. The first campsite had twice as many people as in winter. I was in awe at every minor change. The trees whistled differently, other people were on the trail, and the once-quiet woods buzzed the sound of wild animals. It could have been my gained experience, but the hike was significantly easier the second time around. 

Setting up camp on the first evening felt like a final exam of camping practices. I implemented the skills gained from my first trip: how to pitch a tent, set up a bear bag, and cook dinner under the stars. Eager to help with the tent and the bear hang, Jesse, a first-year student, quickly picked them up. 

 At dinner, Thomas became the teacher and introduced Jesse to the ram-bomb, a mix of instant mashed potatoes and ramen that was a Mountaineering Club classic. The fall offered a sense of ease. Dinner was not about fueling up for the wintry night ahead; it was a chance to linger, sharing stories and laughter as the sunset faded to black. 

The following day took us 13 miles deeper into the park, past cascading waterfalls and across rivers that felt less daunting in fall’s gentler embrace. Moorman’s River, which had been an icy challenge in February, was now a refreshing crossing. My Crocs made their usual appearance, but this time, no one fell in the river with their hiking boots. Right before reaching our second campsite, we detoured up a spur trail that broke off from the main trail to a waterfall. The waterfall was tame in winter, but it now roared, throwing itself viciously into a pool below. 

The hike out, once wrapped in winter fog, was now bathed in autumn’s golden glow. As we climbed back to Skyline Drive, we paused at an overlook to take in the valley’s sweeping views. The juxtaposition of the view left me with a feeling of familiarity and something entirely new. The final four miles climbing 2000 feet (about twice the height of the Empire State Building) of elevation out of the valley reminded us how the same place could transform with the seasons, offering a unique experience every visit. 

Back at the van, we encountered a photographer on a cross-country trip who offered us slices of Trader Joe’s pumpkin bread. We had just run out of food and were planning to devour anything from the nearest restaurant. The unexpected gift felt like trail magic, exactly what we needed, just when we needed it most. 

Being both a leader and participant on this trip taught me new things. Previously, I was trialed by basic backpacking challenges and now I was tasked with leading a group through the same adverse trials. Witnessing the park’s transformation mirrored my own, a testament to how time and effort can bring about incredible change.  how time and effort can bring about incredible change.