Virginia’s Hazel Mountain Hike

It was a cold February day when Andy, Nikki, and I drove to Shenandoah National Park to hike Hazel Mountain.

The start of the new year brought fresh hope that I would—at a minimum—would hike one mountain trail once a month. This seemed more than achievable, given that Andy and I hiked at least every other weekend the first few years together. Our friend Nikki mentioned wanting to hike more, too, so I made a mental note of getting her to come with us each time we went—and, by the way, you met Nikki before in my past writings on West Virginia’s Raven Rocks Hike, Virginia Humpback Rocks Hike, and Virginia Overall Run/Beecher Ridge Hike. Our friendship goes back over twenty years, which is the longest I have known, and she is rare in that I could honestly meet thousands of people, and no one would be as inspiring, fierce, intelligent, and genuine as her. I adore Nikki, so when she said she would hike with us, I knew before setting off that it wasn’t about the mountain, the trail, the waterfall, or the view. It was about simply being able to spend time with her with Andy.

Snow was still on the ground as as we set off on this less-walked circuit hike, which seemed to be a pleasant step back into hiking …

• Eight-point-seven miles
• 2,282-foot elevation gain
• Rated Hard (with levels of Easy, Moderate, Hard, and Strenuous) (Side note: The website Hiking Upward no longer exists! It is now My Hikes, so there are small changes I am seeing, such as removing the five level ratings and wording them in the above way instead.)

We began on the yellow blazed Hazel Mountain Trail …

which, in a little under half a mile, took us downhill …

Soon, Hazel River appeared before us …

and about a mile and a half later, large boulders stood beside the trail as we walked into Runyon Run …

A river crossing, multiple switchbacks, and another river crossing later, we made it to our destination: a waterfall with a swimming hole and cave.

After we soaked up as much waterfall as we could, we made our way back to the car. Remaining on the yellow blazed trail, we passed trees that seemed to defy logic as they grew tall on top of boulders …

When Andy, Nikki, and I reached the car and pulled onto Skyline Drive, the Blue Ridge Mountains caused us to pause …

These pictures do not do the mountains justice. The fabled blue was vibrant and stood out among winter’s dull brown …

Yet, we had one last destination: nearby Cave Hill Farms Brewery.

Cave Hill Farms Brewery is family-owned since 1759 when England’s King George II granted the farm to the family. According to the brewery’s website, this deed was written on sheepskin, and it gave the family the rights to farm the over 1,000 acre plot of land. Through the years, the family touts that “[i]t has grown just about every crop variety that is known in our growing region and produced all livestock varieties.”

Fast forward through time, Cave Hill Farms Brewery stretches over only 359 acres. Moving with modern trends, the family began growing hops in 2015. Then, Cave Hill Farm become Cave Hill Farms Brewery in 2018. Their beers stand out as much as their history, too, because the family grows their own barley (sixty acres each year) and hops and uses their well water to create over twenty beers, all with unique and flavorful tastes.

What Andy, Nikki, and I also found interesting about this brewery is that they have a museum inside …

Agriculture equipment stretches through the brewery with plaques containing pictures and a wealth of information on its evolution.

There was more too—information on the evolution of medicine, lights, and country stores …

All in all, the Blue Ridge Mountains boast of many breweries, but Andy, Nikki, and I left excited that we stopped here. It was one of the most unexpectedly unique breweries not only in this area but that I have yet to visit. Plus, the beer was great, the food delicious, and staff friendly and welcoming. I’ll end here saying we absolutely suggest stopping by to support this family-owned business.

So with a final gulp, bite, and walk around the museum, we headed home …

I wrote at the start of this post about how I aimed to hike once a month that year, but the sad reality is there were only two more hikes this entire year—with the next one five months later. Life has a way of seeping into all unfilled or unplanned time and marking off those days in selfish ways. As the months and years passed (and still today), Andy and I pour our efforts into our 1965 Clark Cortez motorhome restoration with the hope that this antique RV to open more avenues in our lives—more travel, more mountains, more trails.

But I also obsess over wondering at what cost? Looking back, this is the year when our hikes were decreased at such a significant rate that I cannot recall the last time Andy and I walked a mountain trail. I also cannot recall the last time I saw my most dear friend.

People talk about working hard—pushing and pushing on—to achieve dreams, but what they do not talk about more is the present sacrifice to get to the future dreams. Is it worth it? The answer is maybe no … and maybe yes. No, for the present—which is how we are supposed to live; yet, yes, for that future point when our plans have shaped our new life.

Still, I desperately want the best of both worlds right now, but I suppose what I want more are simple days like this where I can be with my friend and my husband and the three of us can go on a hike through the woods together.