Devilish
Disclaimer: This entry is not part of the 100 x 60 quest; however, it is similar in purpose: to bring awareness. Being a state-certified Master Naturalist comes with a commitment is to bring awareness to Virginia’s wonderful natural resources. Whereas 100 x 60 brings awareness to The Nature Conservancy, this entry fulfils my commitment by bringing awareness to one of Virginia’s many amazing places.
It is a trip I have been on a hundred times - ever narrowing roads leading to my destination. At the end, it’s just a twisty, graveled lane with Private Drive warning nailed to a tree putting me on high alert for a shotgun-toting redneck waiting in the middle of the next bend.
But what is around the next bend is what I’m hoping for – a state-sanctioned parking lot. Despite the privacy warning, this tiny lot affirms it’s safe to be here; safe to visit the elusive Devils Backbone State Forest located in the middle of nowhere. Virginia’s state forests are off-the-grid. Though owned by the state, they are neither funded by taxes nor promoted by the department of tourism, which makes visiting one even more challenging.
While parking, I spot a solitary turkey unnecessarily afraid scampering up and out of sight. Shuffling awkwardly thru crunching leave, these animals neither fly nor walk gracefully. But they are quick; too quick to fire a shot from my camera. Little does it know it’s safe; I’m no hunter. I shoot digitally with no lead involved.
One of the best things about Devils Backbone is what it is not. There are no clear trails. No kiosks or rangers or maps; just a simple parking lot with a tiny Department of Forestry sign affixed to the swinging gate. Once parked, it’s up to your creativity as to where to go next.
My choice is to follow nature’s trail – a small, nearly dry mountain stream. It’s good that I’m wearing ankle-supportive boots with tightened laces. The leaf covered ravine hides mud and rocks at unknown depths waiting to twist ankles at any step along the way. It’s a roll of the dice with each foot placement.
I follow the stream as far back as practical, then up a ravine to a glorious ridge spine ablaze in morning’s first light. This high point is not yet choked by the thick leaf-out or understory sure to explode over the next month. The bright openness is welcomed after traversing the darker, walled in ravine.
Without the crutch of a blazed trail, I’m notching mental breadcrumbs along the way. Only my wits will retrace the route back to my car. Without crutch, I feel a more powerful directional awareness of where I’ve come from.
When I stop walking, the crunching and intrusion ripples settle down, and I notice the intense quiet. Super intense. If forest bathing is a thing, this is the place. Being spring, I was expecting the woods to be aflutter with chirpy birds and scampering squirrels. Other than a second turkey and a few whitetails, it’s been surprisingly still here this morning.
As I get older, I’ve
grown less tolerant of loud noises. This
quiet spot in the middle of nowhere is an unexpected delight. I bask for quite some time unable to recall a
quieter forest experience. Makes me want
to buy a decibel meter to test it.
On the other hand, I have read books and heard podcasts lately regarding how trees communicate through intertwined root systems, sound frequencies, and even odors [Google: Peter Wohlleben]. Maybe this forest is not as quiet as it seems. Is there a cacophony among these towering beauties all warning each other of my intrusion? Are they savvy enough to know I’m a friend? A respecter of their complexities and value? I wish I could join their conversation. Then again, the quiet introspection found here is not something I want to disrupt right now with chatter.
Before returning to the parking lot, I veer 90 degrees up a new ravine, deeper and deeper into the narrowing gully which has a completely different vibe than the first ravine… and includes some devils. Nearly stepping on them, I spot a cluster of Devil’s Urn mushrooms – cool looking cup-shaped brown fungi parasitic to oak, of which there are plenty in this forest. I fire one last digital, lead-free shot. Seems an appropriate trophy and nice way to wrap up a quiet, though devilish visit.
What the state says about this place…
This 749-acre forest, located in Shenandoah County, was a gift to the commonwealth and is used for education and demonstration, research, timber production, watershed protection and a wildlife sanctuary. The main research focus has been for the restoration of the American Chestnut.
The Virginia Department of Forestry (VDOF) manages 22 State Forests totaling 67,920 acres. All State Forests showcase sound forest practices, demonstrating that forestland can be managed profitably without sacrificing its value to the environment. The State Forests of Virginia are self-supporting and receive no taxpayer funds for operation. Operating funds are generated from the sale of forest products and use permits.
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