Just a week following our big Montana trip, we repacked gear and set out for an overnight backpack of Spruce Knob and Seneca Creek. After an amazing and long summer of adventuring, our packing process was a well-oiled machine. Most exciting of all, we were taking A's sister on her first backpacking trip!
West Virginia's Seneca Creek Backcountry is located in the Monongahela National Forest, which by now is our go-to adventure spot. While not far from Dolly Sods, Seneca is a completely different ecosystem. Rather than an alpine bog, Seneca features nearly 60 miles of trails winding through red spruce, hardwoods, open meadows, and fast-moving brook trout streams.
Our adventure began at the parking lot atop Spruce Knob, the highest point in West Virginia (4,863 ft.). Our plan was to descend Spruce Knob to Seneca Creek, some 6.5 miles below, camp for the night, and then hike out the next morning.
Our newest backpacker was a natural!
Wildflowers atop Spruce Knob
Under overcast skies, we set out through shady groves of red spruce and dense moss gardens. The trail descended gradually at first, then steeply as the spruce gave way to hardwoods. The coolest part of this hike was the changing flora. With such significant altitude change, we passed from wind-stunted conifers, into the quiet hardwoods, down through wildflower meadows, and finally into a river valley. Along the way, we uncovered fields of wild blackberries, deliciously tart.
Hardwood forest as we descended into the valley
After several hours of hiking nearly straight down, we began to hear the creek churning gently in the distance. The trail suddenly spilled into a stunning meadow, with sweeping views of the valley. We were getting close.
After another mile, we hit the creek. It being late afternoon, we wasted no time in claiming the first campsite we saw. Seneca Creek is famous for beautiful campsites, and for good reason. Most sites are right along the water...close enough that you could cast to trout from your sleeping bag. The only challenge is finding dry firewood. We didn't, and the result was a long and arduous process keeping our campfire burning.
Time for a well-earned rest
View from my tent
While setting up my tent, I noticed trout rising under a log across from our site. I rigged up my St. Croix 2wt rod (perfect for small stream fishing) and tied on a small Adams. Within three casts, I landed the first of many native brookies. Rumor has it rainbows swim in Seneca, but I only encountered brookies. They were beautiful with their dark features and pink spots.
Fish #1 of infinity
Next it was A's turn. Despite not having cast in years, A was soon making productive casts...and trout began rising to her fly. Unfortunately, by the time A remembered how to set the hook, the trout in that particular spot figured out feathers didn't taste great. Determined, A moved to a hole downstream, which required a technical cast under a low-lying tree. She cast. BAM! Fish on. Just like that, she landed her first brookie of the year! Had you any doubt?
The Determined Angler
I stole the rod back and spent an hour fishing downstream. Quite simply, it was the best hour of brook trout fishing in my life. Without exaggeration, every cast yielded a rise. I landed two, three, four fish out of the same run...then would cast once more out of sheer curiosity, and to my astonishment, land another fish. I quickly lost count. The fishing was so good, I barely made it two turns away from my campsite. It was paradise.
Eventually (this has never happened to me before), I began to feel as though I'd taken enough trout from the creek. It didn't feel fair. I wandered back to our campsite, where A and her sister were working on dinner. As the sky grew darker, we snacked, drank and chatted beside the fire. I fell asleep, exhausted, listening to the stream outside...and dreamt of brook trout.
Sunday morning was considerably less relaxing. We awoke and set out early, in order to get Liv to the airport that afternoon. After a Clifbar breakfast, we began the long, steep climb out of the valley, up to Spruce Knob. Before the pain really set in, we stopped at our favorite meadow for one last look.
And then we were off. We climbed all morning. Apparently, there is a way to access Seneca Creek without hiking off Spruce Knob. Next time. Although our hike out was beautiful, we were totally gased at the top. Driving home, we grabbed meatball subs under the shadow of Seneca Rocks. Overall, I think we showed Liv a pretty sweet (if somewhat intense) first backpacking adventure.
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