Finding and making trail magic on an inn-to-inn hike through Shenandoah National Park

Lynn and Ames have been friends of mine since law school. Our last backpacking trip together was in 2015, when we hiked the Appalachian Trail (AT) through a beautiful stretch of the Great Smokies. It has been a wild 10 years since that hike, with extreme highs and lows for all of us. More recent worries include aging parents, busy jobs, persistent insomnia and a propensity for obsessive doom scrolling. It was clear we were three women in need of some laughs. Or at least some cold beer in the middle of the woods.

Our choice for escape? An inn-to-inn hike on the Appalachian Trail through the Central District of Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. The plan was to hike north from Swift Run Gap to Skyland Resort, spending the night at Lewis Mountain Cabins and Big Meadows Lodge along the way. It would be a three-day hike covering 25 miles along the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains. 

We kicked off our adventure on a sunny Thursday morning in early May. After a breakfast of cold croissants and hotel-room coffee, we drove to the Swift Run Gap entrance station off Hwy 33 and rolled into the national park. Just east of the entrance booth, we parked my car at the trailhead, unloaded our daypacks and stepped into the woods.

Day 1: Wildflower-palooza

Start: Swift Run Gap/Lewis Mountain Campground & Cabins
Miles: 8.3 miles
Trail time: 5.5 hrs

As we climbed the trail and plunged deeper into the woods, traffic noise dropped away and birdsong became our soundtrack. “This is really nice. Thought I’d get that out there before things start to fall apart,” Lynn joked as we passed beneath the hardwood trees that would frame our entire walk. In May, that walk is vibrantly green. Leaves unfurl, wildflowers bloom, ferns quiver and white-tailed deer bound through the woods.  

Our hike overlapped with the park’s annual Wildflower Weekend, and flowers along the trail had clearly gotten the memo. Pink trillium, purple geraniums and deep blue Virginia spiderwort were in joyous bloom. Clusters of small white flowers soon caught our attention – as did two rangers clearing underbrush up ahead on the trail. 

“Smells like garlic,” one of the rangers said, pausing to chat as we pulled up beside him. He plucked a leaf from one of the white flowers, crumpled it between his fingers and held it out in his palm. We each took a confirmatory sniff. Yep, garlic. Commonly known as garlic mustard, these trailside beauties are an invasive nuisance. They hog sunlight and soil, and they crowd out native plants. 

We continued north, and the conversation careened across our Gen X worries, from past work troubles to artificial intelligence and the coming robot rebellion. Retirement isn’t an immediate concern, but we did laugh about filling our time in the future – were new hobbies required? New friends? And just how much pickleball were we going to have to play? “We have a new pope,” Ames declared from the back of our line as we climbed, looking at her watch. “White smoke.”  

The last mile is a steady climb up Lewis Mountain, but the ascent pays off. With its protective trees and tucked-away, low-key vibe, Lewis Mountain is a special place. The recreational facilities here were originally built for Black travelers, who were not allowed to gather elsewhere in the national park. Though Shenandoah was federally managed and supposedly open to all, its segregation policies followed Virginia’s restrictive Jim Crow laws from 1939 until the park integrated in 1950. During segregation, the Lewis Mountain area, which included cottages and a restaurant, was an extremely popular gathering place.

Today, you won’t find a restaurant on Lewis Mountain. It’s just cabins, a campground and a park general store stocked with soup, tuna packets, Slim Jims, Doritos, ice cream and beer. The store doubles as a park crossroads of sorts. The clerk, on our visit, handled varied questions with aplomb and quickly made everyone feel at home – this friendliness was a vibe we noticed across the park, from rangers to maintenance workers, despite recent budget cuts. 

We hung out on the deck of Cabin 7 – across from the store and its cooler of cold beer – for hours. We talked and worried and commiserated, from friendship woes to the effectiveness of grief groups to a salacious range of gossip. Laughter was our through line and, perhaps, our lifeline.  

Day 2: Big Rocks & Park History

Start: Lewis Mountain Cabins/Big Meadows Lodge
Miles: 8.7 miles
Trail time: 5.5 hours

Rainstorms passed over the campground during the night, and we opened the door in the morning to dense fog and a persistent drizzle. The forest was so lush and freshly green that it felt like the landscape was actually changing around us as we walked. Our destination? Big Meadows, home to a lodge, a campground, several restaurants and a visitor center. Two good waterfall hikes – Dark Hollow Falls and Lewis Falls – are nearby, and the namesake meadow is a top spot for stargazing.

After a mile or so we skirted Bearfence Mountain, which hunkered above us like an ancient citadel. Rock scrambling here is fun for families, and rocky viewpoints share stellar views of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Shenandoah Valley to the west. We soon passed the Laurel Prong Trail, which drops to the historic Rapidan Camp, once known as the Summer White House. President Herbert Hoover escaped to this creekside retreat to fish and relax. He also built a community here, welcoming cabinet members and world leaders. Hikers today can tour several abandoned camp buildings, all built by the Marine Corps. 

A fast-moving thru-hiker soon overtook us from behind, telling us as he passed that he’d already had a 30-mile day! He was beelining to Big Meadows for one of the famed cheeseburgers at the Wayside restaurant. We continued north, crossing Skyline Drive at Milam Gap as a thick fog descended. As if on cue for a horror movie, a graveyard emerged from the mists ahead. The headstones were a stark reminder that these mountains once sheltered a thriving community. Nearly 1000 people were displaced, many of them unhappily, when the federal government acquired their land for the construction of the national park. 

From here, trail markers played hide-and-seek in the fog. We nearly stumbled over one of them because it had been knocked to the ground, and its directional arrows were now unclear. Wet, tired, hungry and disoriented by the fog, we huddled to discuss what to do. Retracing our steps to the last marker, possibly a quarter mile behind us, seemed the best bet. But then we paused. What was that? A shadowy figure stood, unmoving, in the gray fog —

Not to get all mystical, but many Appalachian Trail thru-hikers believe that the trail will deliver what you need most when you’re not expecting it. This concept, known as trail magic, can range from seeing an inspiring view when you’re feeling low to stumbling across snacks discarded by a fellow hiker. The Appalachian Trail Conservancy further defines it as “encountering unexpected acts of generosity that restore one’s faith in humanity.” 

Our trail magic? That eerie figure in the fog wasn’t a ghost. It was a maintenance worker, and he kindly informed us that we were in the right place. In fact, we were standing almost directly beside the Big Meadows Lodge parking lot, which we couldn't see through the fog. We’d also stepped out of the woods just a few steps from our actual lodge room. Coincidence? Likely. But still, it’s nice to think trail magic played a role.

Day 3: Hawksbill, a Trail Shelter & Stables

Start/End Location: Big Meadows Lodge/Skyland Resort
Miles: 8.1 miles
Trail time: 6.75 hours

We’d just crossed Fishers Gap, about one mile north of Big Meadows Campground, when something rustled behind me. I was the last person in our hiking lineup that morning, so if it was a hungry bear, I was toast. Bears have been in the news a lot lately, and the three of us had joked about who’d be eaten first. Ames said she had a knife while I mentioned I’d brought mace. Lynn ended the discussion by noting that she could run faster than both of us. Indeed.

And the rustling? Another fast-moving hiker. He shared that he was in the park with Scrambled Legs & Kegs, an all-ages hiking group based in Washington, DC. The group plans hikes in Northern Virginia and beyond, and the trips are often followed by a beer. Organizing the group that morning had been like herding cats, he said, so he had taken off solo.

We paused for a picnic at the Rock Spring Hut, where backpackers converge at night for camaraderie and camping. Set in a low-lying grove, it was a pretty spot, but we didn't linger. The 4051-ft summit of Hawksbill, the highest point in the park, loomed just ahead. The Appalachian Trail doesn’t cross the summit, so we would not be making a strenuous climb. We did, however, anticipate crowds. 

Another obstacle? A series of vast rock slides that cover the AT. These boulder fields are hikeable, but the possibility of twisting an ankle makes them hazardous. On the last stretch of rocks, we paused to help a young mother who had an infant strapped tightly to her chest. A fall would have been disastrous. Her husband? He had darted ahead, leaving our all-girl trio to help his wife and newborn across the rocks.

From Hawksbill we started a slow ascent along a ridgeline that was dotted with viewpoints overlooking the Shenandoah Valley. Unfortunately, we were too tired to appreciate them fully. The last mile of every leg of our trip had been an uphill march, and we expected the final mile to Skyland to be an equally taxing climb. 

We glimpsed a building ahead: Skyland Stables. A few horses looked curiously at us from their stalls, so we veered off trail to say hello. And yes, saying hello to a horse is every bit as rejuvenating as you might think. A welcoming stable manager took a moment to share the personality traits of the horses and tell us a few of their backstories. 

And then I ruined the vibe. I’d walked ahead to check the next trail marker. “Uggghh, we still have .7 miles!” We’d assumed the stables were beside the lodge. They were not. And yes, I realize .7 miles does not sound far, but we were hot, tired and middle-aged. Lynn rage-walked ahead while Ames grabbed her hiking poles and started walking. I took up the rear, worrying that everyone was mad at me. Nobody has sympathy for the truthsayer.

A few hours later we dug into pasta and trout at Skyland’s Pollock Dining Room. An enormous window framed a spectacular purple-pink sunset. It was the just-right setting for a discussion about why we needed these multi-day adventures. 

“[They’re] so not me, it's not what I normally do,” Ames reflected. “It’s out of my comfort zone. I would never do it on my own.”

Lynn said she relished the opportunity to fully immerse in the outdoors. “I love being outside. All the time.” But with busy lives, she said, it’s hard to find time for extended outdoor trips. It’s also hard to organize new friends, who may not be as excited about a vacation in the woods. “But with you all, it’s easy to do it.”

And for me? Like Ames, I enjoy tackling new outdoor challenges and completing small adventures. It gives me a sense of accomplishment rarely found when navigating the endless obstacles of modern life. Like Lynn, I also am recharged by long days outdoors. 

But for me there is a third thing: the joy of community and friendship in a wild and beautiful place. It resets my soul. The crossroads energy of the Lewis Mountain store. The easy congeniality of the trail. People are here to embrace the wonders of nature while also connecting with like-minded travelers. Perhaps I am also influenced by the fantasy novels of my childhood – an adventure with a merry band of friends is the absolute best. What will happen? Something out of the ordinary, let’s hope.