Old Rag Mountain: The Most Badass Hike in Virginia
Distance: 9.1 Miles
Elevation Gain: 2375 ft
Peak Elevation: 3305 ft
alltrails.com
Old Rag Mountain is not the tallest mountain in Virginia. It’s not even the tallest in Shenandoah National Park. But it is by far the most exciting to climb. This is not a walk-to-the-top type of hike. The way up is full of challenging scrambles across a craggy peak, cracks to crawl through, crevices to down-climb into, and side-steps across exposed cliffsides.
This is not an excursion for the faint of heart. The National Park Service has a whole website dedicated to warning people about the hike. In their own words:
“The number of search and rescue missions each year attests to its danger.”
This of course made me want to climb it even more.
If you are looking for an exciting challenge, then hell yes, take on this day adventure. However, if you are looking for peaceful solitude in nature, this is not the hike for you. Its popularity draws a large crowd, turning the peak into a tailgate party type of atmosphere. Not to mention there are sections of the climb with particularly tough maneuvers that slow the pace down into choke points, creating lines of hikers waiting to get through.
Because of this, it can also turn into a longer than expected excursion. It took me and my two buddies, Jon and Baker, almost seven hours, but Falcon Guides recommends you budget for 10.
The hike is very doable from a physical sense. But it does take some courage at certain points. If you have a fear of heights or have bad balance, you might want to skip this one. One group we encountered got very close to the summit but decided to turn back completely. However, if you want to confront those fears, this will be the most memorable hike you will take on in Shenandoah National Park.
Part I: The Approach (Mile 0.0)
Despite the fact that we could see the mountain from a nearby ridge, it would take us almost an hour to drive from our basecamp to the northeastern approach. The National Park Service maintains a parking lot at the base of the mountain, and by the time we got there, it was packed.
We had originally planned to attempt the climb on a weekday to avoid the crowds, but mother nature had other plans for us in the form of high winds and thunderstorms. And not wanting to be on exposed granite above the tree line during a lightning strike, we were not ones to argue with mother nature.
So there we were, pulling up to a packed parking lot on a Saturday morning, tailgating with other like-minded adventurers. Except instead of barbecuing and playing drinking games, we were all doing our gear checks and stretching out.
The approach trail was on a paved road, curving through a wooded residential area for about a mile. We passed a guy setting up a hotdog stand at the end of his driveway to lure in exhausted and weary hikers on their way back. I would be one of them later.
Once we got to the actual trailhead, we took a left uphill, following the blue blazed trail through a clearly defined path.
Part II: The Switchbacks (Mile 0.8)
The trail was heavily wooded with the occasional stream and boulders. The incline gradually became steeper as we hit a long series of switchbacks.
It was at this point that I realized my friend Jon and I had different philosophies when it came to hiking. For me, it was a chance to reconnect with nature. To enjoy taking my time and taking in the sights, sounds, and smells. To me, it is relaxation manifest. Jon, on the other hand, seemed happiest pushing himself. The last time we went hiking he brought a couple of bricks with him to add weight. At the time I found it odd, but it makes perfect sense. Hiking is an opportunity to challenge yourself physically. To push your limits and expand them, while getting in some amazing views.
For me, however, if I spent most of my climb sucking wind, I would find it hard to appreciate the peacefulness of nature. So I like to take my time. From my point of view, speed hiking as all the subtlety and class of speed eating. I prefer to start early, take my time and savor. Or maybe that's just what I tell myself to feel better about being out of shape.
Baker seemed to be somewhere in between.
After the switchbacks stopped we came upon our first vista. The beautiful rolling hills of the Shenandoah Valley. I took this opportunity to re-apply athletic tape to my knee and enjoy the view. From here the trail became noticeably more rocky as we made our way higher in elevation.
You can see the green of early Spring slowly moving it’s way way up the mountains.
Part III: Scramble to the Summit (Mile 3.0)
At about an elevation of 2,500 feet, we came out of the woods and onto the exposed rock.
Immediately the trail turned into a rock scramble, requiring all four limbs to climb through certain passages. We climbed over ledges, and crawled through overhangs until we made it to the first false summit. A perfect spot to stop and appreciate the the panoramic views of the other mountains and the valleys below. We stopped to re-hydrate not knowing the first choke point was just ahead.
As we made our way over this mini-summit, we were met with a line of hikers. No one seemed to know exactly what we were all waiting for. Just that there was a line and a slowdown up ahead and just out of sight. This is where we began to see some groups turn around instead of braving the obstacles that lie ahead.
The first major obstacle, and the reason for the choke point was a 12ft deep crack in the rock that we had to carefully down-climb into. At the bottom of the crevice, with our feet at odd angles along its V shape, we moved through the crack onto a small cliff. We then hugged the wall as we shimmied our way around a protruding boulder and slid on our butts down a steep slab, using our hands and feet to slow the descent.
From here, the trail turned back into a steep climb, up to a small cave. To get through we had to crouch down and crawl. A few hikers had to remove their day packs to fit through.
After a bit more climbing we came to one of Old Rag’s coolest features. A naturally occurring granite staircase with a boulder hanging overhead like a deadly chandelier.
That’s when we came to the second, and a bit more precarious choke point. This time the line of hikers formed on a decently steep slope, requiring us to hold onto small rock holds and roots as we slowly made our way up in line. The view to our left was spectacular, so the wait wasn’t so bad. The slowdown allowed me to take a breather and notice the subtleties around us. Like the random small bushes with their roots entangled around cracks in the rock. Or the curious falcon almost hovering in the wind, hanging out with us just over the cliff side.
As we made our way through the line we arrived at what probably could be considered crux of the hike physically. A steep chimney of a crack in the rock that required a series of mantel moves and even one quasi-dynamic jump to reach the next mini-cliff.
What separates these types of scrambles from actual rock climbing is that if you were to fall, you’d only fall a handful of feet to your last stepping-off point. No ropes required. Although a bit technical to maneuver at times, it was nothing insanely dangerous. That being said, one hiker in line ahead of us did fall, but she only took scraped knee and a cool story along with her.
At the top of the chimney, the path became less steep but still required a bit of crevice jumping and courage to get through. In the words of Baker’s self-pep talk:
“Alright. am I going to be Indiana Jones, or Marcus Brody?”
I will definitely be stealing this pep talk for future use.
We then finally made it to the summit. ...Or so we thought. And so did a lot of other hikers apparently. One even got down on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend. Congrats to them. I wonder if she made him do it over again once she realized they were actually only at the 2nd false summit.
Finally, not too far from there we made it to the actual summit and it was amazing. We had a 360 degree view of the whole national park that went on for miles on a beautifully clear day. The official geological survey of Old Rag says the elevation is at 3,284 ft. However after getting on top of the tallest boulder I could find at the summit, my GPS took a reading of 3,305 ft.
Photo Credit: Jon Inzero
After a well earned break, and some summit cigars, we tightened our laces and prepared for the descent.
Part IV: The Descent to The Saddle Trail (Mile 4.1)
Technically, the hike wasn’t even halfway done distance-wise, but the way down was going to be magnitudes easier and less technical than the way up. After a few more boulder jumps, we headed back under the canopy of tree cover.
Along the way we passed two shelters. I have seen these type of the structures on the Appalachian Trail for thru-hikers, but oddly, there were signs posted saying no camping. I later learned these shelters were built by the depression era Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) using rocks found on the mountain. They were/are meant to be used a place to take a break or as emergency shelter from the rapidly changing weather on the mountain, but for day use only.
Part V: Weakley Hollow Fire Road back to the Trailhead (Mile 5.9)
After a two mile descent, the trail leveled off onto Weakley Hollow Fire Road. It was a nice cool-down hike as we walked across and then along side Brokenback Run Stream which eventually fed into Hughes River.
At last, the hike took us over a couple of bridges, bringing us back to the Old Rag trailhead.
Part VI: Visit the Old Rag Hot Dog Guy (Mile 8.9)
From the trailhead, the only thing left to do was follow the road back to the parking lot and visit the Old Rag hot dog guy for some refueling.
We then hobbled back to the Jeep and began our journey back to basecamp where campfire-cooked steaks and beer awaited us later for dinner.
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