This past Thursday saw what was possibly the last snowfall of my medical school years, and Saturday was forecast for overcast skies and warming weather. Jane and I awoke before 4 AM, got in the car with our hiking pack, camera gear, and two cheese-sun-dried-tomato-salami sandwiches, and drove out to the Catoctin Mountain Park in western Maryland. After hurtling along I-70W for an hour in pitch black, we arrived at the park headquarters parking lot at 5:30 AM, and set off up the forested mountain trail. Climbing along the uneven karst path, crisscrossed by fallen branches and streams of snowmelt, still surrounded by near-pitch black and relying only on my iPhone flashlight, the two of us solemnly swore to acquire LED headlamps before our Scotland trip in April.
Fortunately, we soon crested the mountain ridge with no issues, emerging into a landscape of glowing snow-covered pine forest, eerily still in the hush of the early morning. Shortly before sunrise, we arrived at the lookout of Chimney Rock, where I photographed the dramatic southeastern vista over the rolling Piedmont, while Jane toyed with the idea of Tomb Raidering her way to the edge of the Chimney (she decided against this, in light of one jump over a particularly deep crevice requiring a running start).
After sunrise, we continued north along the Catoctin Mountain Loop - climbing the quartzite ridge at Wolf Rock, taking in the views at the Thurmont Vista, and stopping for a self-portrait (with Jane's snowman) at the Blue Ridge Overlook. I've heard that Catoctin is a popular walking destination for the huddled masses of the Baltimore and DC beltways, but we scarcely came across other human beings. Our only company for the morning was a pair of tracks through the snow - one man hiking (probably the day before) with snowshoes and a clearly excited dog, who ran off every few dozen yards to mark a particularly attractive tree before dutifully returning to the trail. With them by our side, we had no difficulty following the path up and down the mountainsides and through the woods. Aside from our walks in Iceland, I have never quite hiked in snow. It was a surreal experience. I would often stop and let Jane press ahead until all was quiet around me - the white woodland holding its breath as well, our silence only broken by the occasional call of a pileated woodpecker, a flitting of wings through the trees.
Around 10 AM, we arrived at Hog Rock with its views to the southeast, where we considered eating a sandwich before Jane grew cold. Descending southward, we finally came across one hiking troupe climbing toward us, and an hour later, one group of families walking the woods near the visitor centre with young children ("Kids, what do we do when hikers are coming in the other direction?"). These were the only people we saw the entire morning.
Back at the highway, we made a brief detour to see Cunningham Falls before returning to our car via the visitor center, where we purchased a souvenir magnet and, in anticipation of next week, an Audubon field guide for birds in the Eastern U.S. After filling up the tank, we drove back toward Baltimore with a plan for lunch and groceries. After covering 9 miles in the snow, a hot lunch of Korean tofu stew and whole fish was all we could ask for.
