by Jeff Alt
Grandma, Mom, and Dad decided to stay at the lodge and watch for Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly to leave. The rest of us decided to go with Papa Lewis. Papa Lewis gave Mom and Dad a second satellite phone to contact us if anything happened. We packed some sandwiches, snacks, and extra batteries for our headlamps— it could be a long night. Papa Lewis planned to lead us down to Dark Hollow Falls, then pick up the Rose River Trail and hike to Fishers Gap. We dropped Uncle Boone’s and Aunt Walks-a-Lot’s vehicle at Fishers Gap, then we all crammed into Wild Bill’s old Ford and drove back to the Dark Hollow Falls trailhead. From there, we were off to see the waterfall.
The trail was very steep. It twisted back and forth over switchbacks, dramatically descending the mountain for about an eighth of a mile before dropping us at Dark Hollow Falls. It was amazing! We stood by the edge of a pool of water at the bottom of a seventy-foot waterfall cascading over a rocky cliff. We took in the sight for a few minutes, and then Papa Lewis led us further down the trail. We continued on a steep descent, following a surging stream all the way down to a trail junction. An old metal bridge, wide enough to support a vehicle, crossed over the stream. We followed Papa Lewis over the bridge and onto the Rose River Trail for a short distance until he stopped and pointed out a cement column with steel rods protruding from it.
“Back in 1845, this was a copper mine. It was mined on and off up until the early 1900s. The shafts are all filled in now. There used to be several mines in the park.”
“Any gold mines out here?” Hug-a-Bug asked.
“No gold mines, Hug-a-Bug,” Papa Lewis answered.
We retraced our footsteps back over the old bridge and took up the Rose River Fire Road. The trail was wide enough for a vehicle and not as steep as the trail we had followed down the mountain. Papa Lewis stopped near where a trail met the road.
“Follow me,” Papa Lewis said as he led us onto the side trail.
In a few yards, we came onto a sign announcing “Cave Cemetery.”
“Shenandoah National Park has over one hundred cemeteries left from when this land was privately owned. This is one of them, and it’s still in use. Most of the cemeteries are inaccessible by car. But the fire road allows access for families to continue to bury their loved ones here,” Papa Lewis explained.
We walked among the gravestones. Some of them dated back to the civil war. Others were more recent and had flower arrangements propped against the stones.
It’s a very peaceful place to be laid to rest, I thought.
When we exited the cemetery, Papa Lewis checked his satellite phone for word from Dad. Seeing that he had a message, he walked out into a clearing and dialed up his voicemail. A minute later, he folded the satellite antenna and walked back over to us.
“They’re following Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly out onto Skyline Drive going north. They are going to leave another message when they reach the destination. We better hike back to Fishers Gap and get ready to join them,” Papa Lewis said.
We all had more pep in our step as we hiked the Rose River Fire Road up to Fishers Gap, completing the hike while it was still daylight.
“This fire road used to be a turnpike that crossed over the mountain at Fishers Gap. Stonewall Jackson used this road to cross his army over the mountain in November of 1862 to support troops at Richmond,” Papa Lewis explained.
We reached Fishers Gap and Papa Lewis had another message from Dad, saying they had followed Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly to the Upper Hawksbill parking area just a few miles north of us. Papa Lewis let Dad know we were on our way. We all piled into the vehicle, and Uncle Boone drove us to Upper Hawksbill. We saw the Jeep and pulled in next to it. Dad hopped out of the Jeep and explained that Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly had no idea that Mom and Dad had followed them. Washington and his parents had gotten out of their car, grabbed a bunch of gear from the trunk, and headed up the Upper Hawksbill Trail just minutes ago.
“Everyone, pack along your wind parka and fleece. At 4,050 feet above sea level, Hawksbill is the highest mountain in Shenandoah. When the sun goes down, it might get cold up there, even in the summer. It’s just a little over a mile to the top, and it’s rated easy to moderate. There is a great spot to eat dinner and watch the sunset at Byrds Nest Shelter Two.” Papa Lewis told us.
“What do we say when we run into them?” I asked “Whatever comes to mind, Bubba Jones,” Papa Lewis answered.
Our team of ten followed the trail up towards Hawksbill. The trees changed the higher we climbed. Balsam fir and red spruce, trees usually found further north, up in Maine and Canada, marked the landscape as we neared the summit. The Byrds Nest Shelter Two came into view and there were people milling about everywhere. We stopped at the shelter to rest, and that’s when we realized all the people up here weren’t just here for the gorgeous sunset we were now admiring from the highest mountain in the park - they were hard at work. We all scrambled towards the talus slopes to get a closer look, and that’s when we discovered Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly working with a whole team of people.
“Washington, what’s going on?” I asked.
“Hey, Bubba Jones, I didn’t expect to run into you guys up here. I was going to bring everyone up here tomorrow and show you what we’re working on,” Washington replied.
“Why has this been such a secret?” I asked.
“Bubba Jones, I honestly don’t know why I have to keep everything so secret. That’s the orders from the agency I work for. Trust me though, the agency shares the same vision and mission as our family: to preserve our parks and wildlands for future generations. I want to show you some exciting things going on right here, and it’s no secret—at least not anymore. This is what I was going to show you tomorrow. Shenandoah National Park is home to fourteen species of salamanders. One of them, the Shenandoah salamander, is in danger of becoming extinct, so it’s protected as a federal endangered species,” Washington Explained.
While Washington was talking, Crockett took off his pack and pulled some information he had printed from the park website, along with a few other articles.
“We’ve learned a lot about the Shenandoah salamander,” Crockett said, handing Washington the articles. “The park website says that salamanders are amphibians, and they breathe through their skin. They’re nocturnal, so you won’t see them during the day. They live in just three small mountaintop areas in the park where it’s cooler than other areas. They eat bugs, and they live in moist, shaded soil beneath the rocks up on these talus slopes.”
“Wow, Crockett, you really did your homework!” Washington said.
“That’s how we found you. You were spotted in the Big Meadows Lodge parking lot returning from a night in the woods, so we guessed that you were researching something nocturnal. Since the Shenandoah salamander is nocturnal and endangered, we figured that might be what you were studying. I also found these articles about how climate change could impact the Shenandoah salamander, and some of the articles linked climate change to national security. At that point, I figured that was why your secret agency activated you—since climate change has become a matter of national security, your mission was to study the salamander to see if it was being impacted by climate change. Because if it was, then our national security might be in jeopardy,” Crockett explained.
“Looks like you figured it out! Some of the most fragile species can help scientists learn what to expect from a changing climate. With their numbers already so low that they are an endangered species, the Shenandoah salamander could be completely wiped out. Scientists believe it was pushed out of other areas in the park to just these three mountains by the red-backed salamander. They are also looking into the human impact on the Shenandoah salamander. Just about everyone up here is either a scientist or a zoologist. They are here to help the park try to save the Shenandoah salamander,” Washington explained.
“What is a zoologist?” Hub-a-Bug asked.
“A zoologist is a scientist that studies animals and th
eir behavior,” Washington answered.
We watched the team of experts at work as they measured spaces between rocks, took pictures, and recorded information. They looked serious, and they looked like they knew what they were doing.
“So, does this mean that you can join us for the rest of our adventure?” Hug-a-Bug asked.
“Yes! I’ve wanted to do that all along—this mission was unexpected. We received word today that it’s no longer classified,” Washington explained.
“What’s classified mean?” Hug-a-Bug asked.
“If information is classified, I can’t share the information with anyone unless I have permission from my agency,” Washington answered.
Washington continued, “When we informed the agency that a team of scientists and national park staff were already hard at work trying to save the Shenandoah Salamander, they declassified our Shenandoah Salamander mission so we could partner with the scientists and the park to help out. The agency made an exception to its rules and determined that it would be in the best interest of our national security if we all work together and inform everyone about the endangered Shenandoah Salamander. And by the looks of it, this team up here has things under control.”
“So that means no more secret messages?” Crockett asked.
“No more secret messages,” Washington confirmed.
“Do you want to plan some more adventures in the park together, Washington?” I asked.
Washington looked over to Cousin Nick and Dolly. They both smiled and nodded.
“Yes, I would like that, and boy, do I have some places in the park you’ve got to explore!” Washington said with enthusiasm.
“I reminded the agency that Washington is just a kid. I also let them know that some relatives have joined us in the park and we would like to spend some time visiting,” Cousin Nick explained.
We sat up on the rocks along the edge of the mountain and enjoyed the sunset while we ate our dinner. Afterward, Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly packed up their equipment, and we all trekked back down the mountain.
We were all excited that Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly would be able to join us for the rest of our Shenandoah adventure.
CHAPTER 16
What an Amazing Adventure
We made plans to meet back at our campsite for s’mores. We were all exhausted, but we were excited to finally be able to spend some time with Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly without having to decode a message or travel back in time! As the fire died down, and the s’more supply dwindled, we decided to wait until morning to make adventure plans. We said goodnight and tucked in for a good night’s rest.
The next morning was the first morning since we arrived in the park that everyone slept in. Everyone except for Hug-a-Bug, that is. She was up and out at the picnic table at first light to update her timeline. Eventually, everyone was up and about. Wild Bill took his turn at meal preparation and fried up some bacon and scrambled eggs. We sat enjoying the stillness of the morning. Deer wandered through the campground, birds sang in the trees, and a lone hiker quietly passed by our little campsite nestled along the A.T.
Shortly after breakfast, Washington and his parents, and Mom and Dad came down from the lodge to join us. Within minutes, the picnic table was covered with maps as Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly shared some of their adventure ideas. We were, after all, right in their backyard. Plans were made to move our base camp north to Skyland for a few days and then some of us would cap off our Shenandoah adventure with an overnight hike on Old Rag Mountain.
We went about the business of breaking camp and packing up. In a short time, we were all loaded into our three-vehicle motorcade, driving north on Skyline Drive.
Skyland, a mountaintop resort lodge with a bird’s eye view of the valley below, was only about eight miles away; we arrived there in minutes. We pulled up in front of the guest check-in area, and Cousin Nick went in to arrange rooms for all of us. A dining room and gift shop were right next door, and people sat on a terrace between the two buildings, reading books, socializing, and enjoying the mountaintop view. Nick returned to his car, and we followed him down a quiet lane that opened up to a sprawling complex with several cabins, a conference hall, and two-story buildings. We located our adjoining rooms, keyed in and dropped our gear inside, then met back outside to go explore.
Washington, Cousin Nick, and Dolly led us up to an old rustic two-story building on a hillside, set apart from the rest of the complex. It looked nothing like the other buildings. It was made of stone and wood, and the walls were covered in tree bark instead of siding. Log railings enclosed the porch and a small upper deck.
“That’s a different-looking building,” Hug-a-Bug pointed out.
“That’s Massanutten Lodge. It was built in 1911, years before this was a park. A man by the name of George Pollock inherited the land from his father’s mining business and started a resort here in 1894. He called it Stony Man Camp. Mr. Pollock’s wife, Addie Nairn Hunter, had this cabin built by an architect who was well-known at the time. Pollock advertised his new resort to well-to-do city folks as a refreshing place to vacation. People came up here from Washington D.C., and other cities to escape the summer heat and enjoy the cool mountain air. The camp started out with just simple tent structures. The Massanutten Lodge looks like it’s open for visitors. Let’s go in,” Cousin Nick said.
We entered the building through a second level door and found a park ranger inside ready to answer our questions. The lodge had been restored and furnished to what it was like when Addie Nairn Hunter lived here. The inner walls of the two rooms were all wood and both the living room and bedroom had a rustic stone fireplace. The windows and doors were open allowing a gentle breeze to blow in through the screen. The living room had bookshelves throughout crammed with old hardbound books and an old upright piano filled one side of the room.
“Mrs. Pollock was a classical pianist. She came from a wealthy family and moved here from D.C. She was divorced when she met George Pollock. She had this lodge built before she remarried to Mr. Pollock. Let me know if you have any questions,” The Park Ranger said.
“Thank you,” Mom said as we continued to walk through the home.
The bedroom, adjacent to the living room, had a ’Women of Skyland’ exhibit which caught all of our attention with some very impressive ladies that spent time here during an era long gone.
For the next half an hour we discovered that George Pollock’s mom, Louise Plessner Pollock, who spent a lot of time at Skyland, played a big role in the creation of kindergarten. Another notable guest, Mary Johnston, was the bestselling author of a 1900 book, To Have and to Hold. We learned that Mrs. Pollock was very independent and loved nature. She even bought land near the present day Limber Lost Trail near Skyland in an effort to save some old growth trees from the logger’s ax. We exited the building with a new found flavor for the woman and culture of Skyland.
We regrouped outside and Washington suggested what we were all thinking. “What do you say we visit Stony Man Camp?”
“You read my mind,” I said.
We all gathered in a circle behind a stand of trees.
“Take us back to July 7, 1899,” Washington stated.
A gust of wind blew us backward and everything went dark. Seconds later, the wind died down, and we found ourselves standing between rows of large canvas house-like tents built on top of wooden platforms. Our clothing had transformed into formal wear. All of the males in our family wore suit jackets and ties, while Hug-a-Bug and the women all wore fancy dresses. Horses were tied to hitching posts outside of each tent. Other men and women, also well-dressed, sat under trees and on rocks, reading books and talking. A loud blast from a horn startled all of us.
“What was that?” Crockett asked in a whisper.
“Let’s go and see for ourselves,” Washington suggested.
We walked to the top of the hill, and there stood a man wearing a large Mexican sombrero and Spanish-style clothing. He held a bug
le to his lips, which explained the horn blast we had heard.
“Why is that man dressed in Mexican clothing blowing a horn?” Hug-a-Bug asked.
“That’s George Pollock. I’ve always wanted to meet this very eccentric man. From what I’ve read, he was very creative in entertaining his guests. He used his bugle to call his guests to lunch and to wake them in the morning. They didn’t have wake-up calls or alarm clocks back then. I would guess he’s dressed like that to entertain the guests,” Wild Bill said before walking over and introducing himself to George Pollock.
We followed the rest of the guests into the dining tent and sat down to a scrumptious meal of fresh garden vegetables and meat stew. After lunch, Mr. Pollock asked everyone to gather outside and he led us up to Stony Man, just a short walk from the camp. I was dripping in sweat wearing so much clothing, and I could see beads of sweat on the others’ faces, too, as we trekked up the mountain. It was worth it, though. When we reached the top, we were treated to an unbelievable view of the Shenandoah Valley below. Knowing this was one of the three remaining mountain peaks where the Shenandoah salamander could be found in modern times, I kept my eyes peeled for a possible sighting. While the group sat and enjoyed the view, Mr. Pollock broke out in song to entertain his guests. Afterward, we all hiked back down to the camp.
In our absence, a horse-drawn stagecoach had arrived with new guests. Mr. Pollock greeted them and reviewed the agenda for the evening and the next day.
“After you get settled in, we will have a nice meal with vegetables fresh from our mountain garden, and we’ll have some live entertainment to dance to by some local mountain men. Tomorrow morning, we are going to enjoy a dip in the waters of White Oak Canyon,” Mr. Pollock shared.
We slipped away between a row of tents, out of view, formed a circle, and Washington brought us back to the present. I felt much more comfortable without the tie and jacket. The tents were gone, and we were standing near the old Massanutten Lodge once again.