Tents + Rocks = Pain

The first camping trip of the season was a grand success. Well, except for that whole "sleeping on the hardest ground imaginable" thing. I am embarassed to admit that I am finally going to have to purchase some sort of camping mattress on wish to collapse upon, because I woke up in a good amount of pain. See, the ground didn't look that rocky - and that's because it wasn't. It was just one giant murderous mother rock hiding under a mere inch of dirt and grass.

And yet I still love Shenandoah.

We left early Saturday morning with Gerald in the driver's seat. Merrick was a good navigator for her boyfriend:

We camped at Mathews Arm Campground, about twenty miles into the park. About 75% of the sites were available, so we were able to drive around and pick the site we wanted. After we drove around at least five times, we got the site and started unpacking. That's when we discovered that the fire "pit" was a pit of cement due to the leftover ashes mixed with the morning's rain. It was pretty gross, but Gerald got rid of most of it. He wasn't all that happy about it, though:

After pitching the tents and relaxing for about three seconds, we headed another twenty miles into the park to hike a trail to the Whiteoak Canyon Falls, the second highest waterfall in the park.


And here are the obligatory nature shots (I think that the hike to the falls took twice as long as the hike back as I stopped to take pictures of every single ridiculous stream. I realize my insanity now, but at the time, they were so "pretty!")

I think that this is St. John's Wort, but I'm not sure. It could also be a flower called "Sneezeweed," which would be awesome because that's the best name ever.

Good enough for a high school senior picture?

Okay, seriously - this one could be a backdrop in the crazy photographer's studio where everyone in your high school senior class had pretty much the same pictures.

Stepping stones

There were many, many dead hemlocks in the park. In my "Hikes to Waterfalls" book, I learned that these beautiful trees - some more than four hundred years old - were killed by an insect called the Hemlock Wooly Adelgid. Jerks.

Pretty stream, dead hemlock. A common sight on the trail, unfortunately.

And finally, the Whiteoak Canyon Falls. We were all surprised at how high up we were - the entire trail had been slowly sloping downward, and the streams we hiked along were only inches deep.

Beneath my feet? A sheer drop. There were no ledges, no outcrops -- nothing. Totally worth the climb there, though.

Merrick and I, deep in thought.

We didn't notice this until after we were preparing for the hike back. The fact that the park service had to point out the massive waterfall is beyond me, but it provided us with some laughs:

Gerald likes what he sees.

On the drive back to the campground, some deer got a little cheeky.

The fire was super hot. This is before it turned blue.

It was a gorgeous night and a great weekend. I just have to figure out when I can get back.