Backpacking the Trout Run Valley Loop, also referred to as the Perry Valley Loop, presents a rewarding escape for backpackers searching for solitude and pure magnificence. Straddling the border between West Virginia and Virginia, the roughly 30-mile circuit traverses the George Washington Nationwide Forest and the Wardensville Wildlife Administration Space, revealing a various mixture of landscapes—from dense forests to rugged ridgelines. Alongside the way in which, hikers are handled to sweeping views and prime backcountry campsites. Highlights embody the panoramic vistas from Huge Schloss, Tibbet Knob, and Halfmoon Mountain. Excellent for both a difficult in a single day or a relaxed two-night, three-day trek, the path is greatest tackled in spring or early summer time, when water sources are most dependable.
Trailhead elevation 1,533′
Water sources plentiful in springtime and early summer time
Do not miss sundown and tenting at Halfmoon Lookout
Backpacking Trout Run Valley
After hours on winding roads, we lastly pull into the Wolf Hole parking space. Above us, a brooding late-Could sky churns with clouds, pale and stressed. The air is crisp, laced with the electrical energy of anticipation. It is my who is aware of what quantity backpacking journey, however it’s Heather’s first. Her legs, solid by ultramarathons, are greater than ready—however the wilderness doesn’t simply take a look at muscular tissues. It checks your spirit. I’m wondering what it can ask of her.
We go away the consolation of our car behind, shoulder our packs, and stroll to the trailhead. Our three-day, two-night trek begins on the orange-blazed Mill Mountain Path, the place the earth itself appears to rise towards us. The path surges upward instantly, swallowing our footsteps in shadow beneath towering hardwoods. Within the first 0.75 miles, we climb 600 toes—every step a heartbeat louder. Lastly, the ridge grants us a pause, the place two home windows to the world open beside us. The views supply a cascade of ridges unfurling like waves in a inexperienced sea. Little Schloss juts to the east, whereas the shoulders of Little Sluice Mountain loom to the northeast.
We linger solely moments—extra grand vistas await. At 1.75 miles, we meet the white-blazed Huge Schloss Spur Path and take it. The rock strewn path is transient however steep. Close to the highest of the spur, we cross a gaggle of backpackers tenting in a grouping of pines. I can’t assist however assume to myself, what an unbelievable campsite! Simply past, we cross a wood footbridge and step out onto the crown of Huge Schloss.
And there it’s: the huge, wild coronary heart of the Appalachians, laid naked in each course. The sandstone beneath our toes glows pale and everlasting. Mountains tumble away into the gap, each layered in deep inexperienced and veiled blue. To the north, Halfmoon Mountain pierces the sky, half-shrouded in haze.. That distant summit might be our dwelling tonight. To the south, Tibbet Knob stands out prominently subsequent to Satan’s Gap Mountain, whereas to the west, the ridge of the seven-mile-long Lengthy Mountain spans the size of the valley.
After consuming from the effectively of grandeur, we descend reluctantly and rejoin the Mill Mountain Path. The trail ahead rises gently alongside the mountain’s backbone, winding by means of a dense forest of mountain laurel, rhododendron, pines, and hardwoods. The path shifts between grassy stretches and rocky sections, however presents no spectacular mountain views.
At round mile 5.4, Sandstone Spring flows throughout the path, its chilly, clear waters pouring from the mountainside like a present. I kneel to fill our water bladder, high off our bottles, and we proceed on. Although we’re headed for Halfmoon Mountain tonight, two campsites inside 100 toes of the spring catch my eye—each would make wonderful spots to return to on a future journey.
The rocky path leads us greater. We attain the summit of Mill Mountain—its highest level—a couple of mile past the spring. No views, only a whispering forest and the quiet pleasure of elevation earned. One mile later, we attain a marked junction: the Tuscarora Path straight forward, and the yellow-blazed Overmill Path to the left. Nightfall presses in. We take the shorter route. The Overmill Path descends gently, winding by means of a sea of mountain laurel and huckleberry. Patches of mud, swimming pools of standing water, and stretches of rocky, uneven terrain gradual our progress. Additional alongside, a collection of wood footbridges present our toes with a dry, flat path.
Finally, we attain the Halfmoon Lookout Path and start our ultimate climb of the day. We attain the highest simply because the final ember of solar slips under the horizon. The world unfolds earlier than us—countless, serene, immense. Lengthy Mountain stretches out like a sleeping large, and much under, the village of Perry lies nonetheless and silent. Heather steps out to the sting, the final mild of the solar refusing to give up. It is a ravishing scene, the type that photographs may by no means really seize.
We linger for a number of quiet moments, letting the vastness of the view imprint itself on reminiscence. Then, with twilight settling round us, we slip slightly below the rocky outcrop and make camp. We cook dinner beneath a sky deepening to indigo, grasp our bear bag within the timber, and sink into the sort of silence that exists solely within the backcountry.
The next morning breaks chilly and silver. We linger inside, wrapped in heat, protecting the surface world at bay. Solely at 9:30 do we start to maneuver. Eleven miles forward—however there isn’t any rush. After breakfast, we descend alongside the purple-blazed German Wilson Path, dropping right into a rocky ravine choked with sizable boulders and hardwoods. The orange-blazed Bucktail Path greets us on the backside, and we veer left, winding by means of deep woods. Halfmoon Run crisscrosses our path 5 instances, every time requiring solely minor rock-hopping to cross. On the ultimate crossing, we refill our bottles and bladder as soon as extra, have a number of snort-inducing laughs, and proceed on.
Past the final crossing, an extended, light climb begins. A forest street—grassy and viewless. Hours cross. Finally, we descend and arrive on the Bucktail Path parking space, the place we take a break to eat, share a number of extra jokes at one another’s expense, and briefly chat with a fellow backpacker who’s readying he and his canine for an overnighter to Halfmoon Mountain. Simply past, we cross a footbridge over Trout Run, pause to refill our water bladder once more, after which proceed alongside the yellow-blazed Lengthy Mountain Path.
After a quick flat stretch, the path bites again. Cherry Ridge rears up and we start to climb, surrounded once more by mountain laurel—smooth magnificence lining the trail of toil. We cross by means of small meadows, by means of woods carpeted in ferns, the sunshine dappled and shifting. The hills roll on. And on.
Close to the 20-mile mark, with the burden of the day sinking into our bones, we attain a slender stream threading down Lengthy Mountain. We filter water into our bottle and fill our bladder once more, figuring out that this can be the final probability to resupply for some time. Our deliberate campsite lies a mile forward on the foot of Ben’s Ridge—however fatigue has different plans. We give up to the primary flat patch we discover, roughly 1 / 4 mile after the stream. At 4:30, we drop our packs and arrange camp. A hearth crackles to life. Dinner is easy. As soon as once more, laughter fills the air. We grasp our bear bag, then watch the sunshine fade from the forest. No grand views in the present day—solely the solemn hush of timber and time. By 8:00, we’re zipped inside, cocooned in sleep. The world outdoors falls away.
The next morning, daybreak breaks not with birdsong, however with panic. At round 4:30 AM, the sound no backpacker ever needs to listen to turns into a actuality—voices at nighttime, pressing and trembling: “Get again! Get again! Get again!” A bear had slipped like a shadow into a close-by campsite, and the frantic shouts of its startled campers echoed by means of the forest. We held our breath within the stillness, listening for the one sound we feared most—shrieks. However none got here, fortunately. Gripping our bear spray and nerves nonetheless frayed, we pack up and break camp.
Simply three-quarters of a mile in, we attain the small meadow the place we had deliberate to camp the night time earlier than. 100 yards later, we rock-hop throughout a modest stream tumbling down Lengthy Mountain’s slope. I can’t assist however assume that, had we not been so worn out yesterday, the meadow would’ve made an ideal spot to finish the day. In any case, the path quickly begins a delicate incline, which slowly turns into a gentle, grinding ascent up Satan’s Gap Mountain—a tricky early problem for our legs.
After an extended ascent, we emerge onto Satan’s Gap Street, a lonely ribbon of gravel that descends in a delicate arc for two.5 miles. It’s presents the primary shred of a view we’ve had in practically 15 miles. It will not be spectacular, however after countless stretches of forest, we gladly take it.
After 2.5 miles of street strolling alongside the boundary of the Wardensville Wildlife Administration Space, we attain a gravel parking space under Tibbet Knob. We greet a gaggle of automotive campers as they put together a late-morning meal, then proceed on our approach. With just one final push standing between us and the overlook, Heather and I drain the ultimate drops from our water bladder, drink our water bottles dry, and press on. The trail ahead is steep and rocky, and checks our already drained legs.
After which—glory. From Tibbet Knob, the valley unfolds beneath us in a tapestry of ridges and shadow. Huge Schloss and Mill Mountain stand sentinel to the east, Halfmoon Mountain looms within the north, and the spines of Satan’s Gap and Lengthy Mountain stretch northward. It is the sort of view that silences the soul, then fills it to overflowing. We share many extra laughs, snap a number of extra photographs, and take a second to understand the sweetness Mom Nature has provided us.
Finally, reluctantly, we start our descent. The best way down is steep—sharp inclines, unfastened stones, roots coiled like ropes—however we transfer intentionally, gripping the earth as if to carry onto our ultimate moments on this wild cathedral.
After one other half mile, the path ranges out and meanders as soon as extra by means of quiet woods earlier than main us to the Wolf Hole parking space and the consolation of automotive seats. Three days of sweat, grime, and path funk cling to our our bodies. We toss our packs to the bottom and peel off our garments for the easy reduction of one thing clear. Forward of us lay an extended automotive journey, civilization, pizza, and showers. However behind us—we go away a chunk of ourselves within the wilderness of Trout Run Valley. Thirty miles of rugged, unforgiving terrain. And each step, each breath, each quiet second shared with Heather? Unforgettable.
