Trails winding through breathtaking scenery. Wild ponies grazing in open meadows. It sounds like a backpacker's dream! After years of hearing about the beauty of Grayson Highlands, I finally got to experience it for myself... and it did NOT disappoint!
Check out the itinerary I put together from this trip! Route details, resources I used to plan the trip, campsite and water source descriptions, elevation profiles, and MORE all in one neatly organized PDF. (While it isn’t a substitute for doing your own research and preparation, hopefully it will take the guess work out of planning your own trip.)
Music featured in this video: “Outlander” by Tyler Edwards, “Please Listen Carefully” by Jahzzar, “Plain and the Valley” by Tyler Edwards, “After” by Struktura, “Wavy Daisy” by Mild Wild, “Angelic Silhouette” by Sky Toes, “Walk Home” by Color Parade, “Today’s Special Jam Tomorrow” by Doctor Turtle, “Morning Coffee” by Holizna, and “Slow Backwards” by Mild Wild
Music from Uppbeat (free for Creators!):
Grayson Highlands - 18 Mile Loop
Hike Overview
Type of hike: Loop
Trails hiked: Appalachian Trail, Lewis Fork trail, Mount Rogers trail
Time span: 3 days 2 nights
Total Est. Mileage: 18 miles (w/o spur trip to Mount Rogers summit)
Trail Journal
Day One
It was the night before the trip. All the arrangements were made: I scheduled a pet sitter, reserved my parking spot, and my husband was off on a business trip. If I was going to backpack Grayson Highlands, THIS was the time. There was still one major detail left to iron out though… Do I take the loop clockwise or counterclockwise? So, pick a direction... What's the big deal?
When I mapped out my route earlier in the week, the plan was to go clockwise. Looking at sudden changes in the weather report, I realized that might not be a good idea. While there wouldn’t be any rain my first night there, they were calling for 40mph winds on Mount Rogers with gusts of up to 50. The nearby ridge where I wanted to camp was expecting similar conditions. Using the handy weather feature on my GPS app, I compared that with the conditions expected (in a lower elevation area) on the opposite side of the loop. 30mph with gusts between 35 and 45. Still not ideal, but manageable! The area around Mount Rogers was looking a little more favorable the next night. So, with just a few hours before bed I rerouted my plan to go counterclockwise instead. In the end it was a much better decision, and not only because of the weather. I ended up saving the most scenic part of the trip for last!
I reached Grayson Highlands State Park late in the afternoon. I pulled up to the check-in gate and greeted the woman inside the booth. She was very helpful and explained all the rules and regulations: From registering in the overnight backpacker lot to keeping the pony gates closed on the trails. She also handed me a brochure and map.
“I guess this won’t be too much help to you.” She said. "Since you’ll mostly be hiking outside of the park."
“It can't hurt to have it I suppose!”
I had a printed out map of my route already in my pack, but I thought this little one would make a nice souvenir from the trip. So, I took it anyway.
Before pulling away, she offered a final piece of advice “It’s going to be really chilly and windy out there this week. It’s important to have warm clothes with you.” I think she was worried that I was planning to hit the trail wearing nothing but the shorts and t-shirt I drove up from South Carolina in. I promised her I was prepared. (In fact, I planned to change at the trailhead.) I had plenty of warm layers for camp, a wind breaker, and an extra pullover in my pack.
I found my overnight parking forms waiting at the kiosk. I filled them out and hung the tag on the rearview mirror. I also changed into long pants and a wool shirt. It was an instant improvement. Going back and forth from the car to the kiosk, I was really starting to feel that chill. Especially on my legs!
I started to warm up a little more as I made my way along the Appalachian Trail. Not far from the trailhead, I met Grandpa Mike: a SoBo hiker from Louisiana. He told me his whole backstory. Why he was hiking the trail and about the shakedown trip he took to prepare for this adventure. After the experience, he decided if he could walk all that way then he could hike the AT. As we parted ways, he called back to me “If I die out here, tell them I was happy!”
I went through several gates on my way into camp. The woman at the booth said these were supposed to keep the ponies contained to certain areas. Leaving them open or unlocked was a big no-no! I was fascinated throughout the trip by how different some of them were from each other. Most were a standard metal gate with a latch while others were wooden constructions with either a pin or rope to hold them shut.
Nearly 4 miles in and I hadn’t seen a single pony. There were piles of fresh manure all over the trail, but no sign of the animals that made it. I knew seeing ponies was NOT a guarantee, but all the pictures and videos from other hikers make it seem like there will be ponies all over the place!
The scenery approaching The Scales was absolutely beautiful! I followed the well-worn path through one grassy meadow after another. All the while searching for signs of a decent campsite. I eventually came to a spot with a picturesque view. As I debated whether to stop here or keep going, a huge gust of wind tore across the field. That was all the convincing I needed. This spot was pretty, but way too exposed for my liking!
The rest of the way, I encountered several “mirage campsites” Dark lumpy shapes in clearings that appeared to be fire rings, but upon closer inspection proved to be nothing more than piles of pony poop. You would think after the first two or three times I would be able to make the distinction. Nope. I kept falling for it over and over again.
The trail went up a small hill under tree cover before passing through more meadows. Going up the incline, I figured I should stop looking for smaller sites and just go all the way to Scales. Just then a loud rustling caught my attention. As I rounded the corner, I froze. Standing right in front of me was a little tan pony munching on the grass. “Hey pony.” I said awkwardly.
You always hear “If you encounter a wild animal, talk in a loud calm voice to let them know you’re there.” I wasn’t entirely sure if the same rule applied here, but I figured it couldn't hurt. He looked up at me indifferently, then went back to grazing. I starting walking around the side of the path and he took a few steps into the brush revealing a second pony.
I started talking again, hoping it would encourage them to move on.
“Oh, you have a friend. Well, y’all are just beautiful.”
It worked! The tan pony huffed and clomped off out of site. The other pony followed after him.
Directly beside their grazing spot was a wide open campsite. It had a barrier of brush along the outskirts and large tree beside the fire ring. Do you ever just look at a site and get that feeling in your gut? “This is the one.” Well, this was the one. Although there was a lot of manure around, I managed to find a clear place for my tent. I tried to find the best position for it to compensate for the wind. The problem was, I read so much conflicting advice before the trip on the “correct direction” to face in high wind that I wasn’t really sure what approach to take. So, I did my best and utilized every stake and guy line I had.
After setting up, I took a solid 30 minutes to gather as much firewood as I could for the night. There were a lot of pony paths across the trail from my site. Which if you don’t already know, are exactly what they sound like. Paths cut off the main trail through brush and wooded areas by the ponies. Which were great for gathering firewood and finding a limb to hang a bear bag on! A setback with following the pony paths is if you aren’t paying very close attention, it’s easy to get confused. The paths are faint and several of them weave between each other. On my second trip for firewood, I briefly got turned around. Thankfully, I remembered that the sun was shining directly behind me when I was walking away from the site. So I stopped, turned myself toward it, and pushed back through the bushes until I found myself on the main trail. There was my site a hundred or so feet away.
After that, I devised a strategy to help me keep track of my whereabouts. I kept a picture in my mind of a compass arrow. Each time I ventured off the trail (for whatever reason), the arrow would remain pointed in the direction I came from. If I veered left or right, the arrow would turn as well reorienting itself to face my entry/exit point. Maybe that sounds silly, but it was immensely helpful the rest of the trip (and on future trips.)
Starting a fire was a much tougher task than I anticipated. At first I gave the upside-down fire a try. I quickly learned that technique is destined to fail in windy conditions. The flame couldn’t catch any of the twigs or leaves fast enough. I tried to bury the kindling a little deeper in the wood pile. But the wind continued to extinguish one attempt after another. It was disheartening to say the least. I had just a couple storm proof matches and half a fire starter left. I knew it wouldn't be enough by itself to get a decent flame going. So, in a last ditch effort I tore the corners off the map I printed out. Which I do NOT recommend. It was a choice between not having the parts of a map I wouldn't be venturing into or being miserably cold all night. I went with not having a corner or two… or four.
With chattering teeth and shaky hands, I tore down the whole stack of firewood and started over. This time I built it up like a log cabin, hoping to use the larger pieces of wood as a shield. Next, I set a bed of thin dry twigs and grass in the center. Last, I added the remaining fire starter wrapped in pieces of map. I lit it and carefully added twigs to the tiny flame. I also prayed a lot! Asking God for relief from the wind. Just long enough for it to really catch! Miraculously, I did get a short break in the wind and the flames caught.
The warm fire was such a relief and brought feeling back to my fingers and toes. I sat beside it until my supply of wood was depleted. Then, I poured a water bottle over the coals and curled up in the tent.
Day Two
The wind raged all night and into the next morning. When I got out of the tent to go to the bathroom and grab the bear bag, I decided I was NOT doing that again. Not until absolutely necessary! I packed everything up and ate breakfast inside the tent. Each gust rocked and jostled the tent back and forth. It felt a lot like being in a boat. I tried not to spill coffee all over myself as the tent walls bowed in and out. My eyes stung and I had a splitting headache from lack of sleep. To add to the discomfort, I was seriously struggling to stay warm. This was not how I expected my day to start.
I debated going back to the trailhead and blaming my lack of perseverance on the weather. When my husband asked “Why did you cut your trip short?” I would say something like “Well, the conditions weren’t great. Bailing out was probably the best call.” In reality, the situation was more inconvenient than dangerous. It was so much easier though to blame throwing in the towel on some outside force rather than my unwillingness to power through being uncomfortable.
Once I got some food and caffeine in me, I was able to think about things a little clearer. The previous night was predicted to be the worse of the two. In theory, it could only get better from here. Add to that the thought of missing out on such a fun, long-awaited adventure and my mind was made up. I was going to suck it up, break down the tent, and continue on with the trip as planned.
When you’re sitting stagnant in a tent, it’s easy to forget how quickly carrying a pack will warm you up. My windbreaker also did a lot to help me retain heat. I followed the trail through even more beautiful landscapes, confident I made the right decision.
I reached The Scales to find the fenced in area FULL of longhorns and ponies. I even saw a little calf hanging around the outside of the fence. I could see a fire ring and info board in the middle of the pen. But rather than risk spooking the animals while passing through, I decided to go around the perimeter of the fence to where the trail picked up on the other side. The scenery changed several time throughout the morning. It cycled through walking in the woods, followed by a gate, followed by a meadow, followed by another gate, and back into the woods again.
I stopped at Old Orchard Shelter to refill my water. I didn't know it at the time, but I was about to make a new friend. While at the shelter, a guy and girl also stopped there for a break. We started talking and it turns out, the girl lives in the same area as me. Small world right! We exchanged numbers and have gone on a handful of adventures together since. But those are all stories for another time…
After stopping at Old Orchard, I left behind the easy to navigate AT for ankle deep mud on Lewis Fork trail. I carefully made my way uphill through the wet mucky pits and fallen tree debris. To my relief, I did eventually reach drier flatter ground. I also found a lovely creekside campsite to enjoy my lunch at.
I faced a new challenge on the connector to Mount Rogers trail. The trail suddenly became faint. There were no blazes and the thick leaf litter made it hard to discern the twists and turns in the path. I moved slowly, straining my eyes to make out any traces of foot traffic. It eventually brought me to a wide junction with a sign for Mount Rogers trail. I was on the right track! The rest of the way was much easier to follow. The terrain got really interesting after reuniting with the AT. The steep inclines, boulder fields, and switchbacks multiplied. This was probably the most challenging part of the day. I didn’t mind though. It was a nice change of pace from the rest of the hike.
With how rocky some of these sections were, I frequently found myself thinking. “I’m glad I didn’t bring a dog with me.” My initial reason for leaving my hiking buddies home was to avoid them getting loud and foolish with a herd of ponies. I now realized my biggest worry probably would have been them getting injured trying to navigate across so many boulders. That’s not to say I think dogs are incapable of hiking this route. In fact, I met one along the way who seemed to be doing just fine. For me personally, the risks of taking my own dog far outweighed the rewards.
I reached the ridge where I originally planned to camp the first night. The site was small but it offered decent coverage and a rock outcrop with a nice view. It pained me to leave such a lovely site behind, but I couldn’t stay here. On the last throw of my bear bag line the night before, the rock sack got destroyed. The rock I used must have been too jagged for the material because it tore the bag straight down the middle. While I probably could have rigged something up without the rock sack, I felt better about storing my food in a bear box instead. Supposedly, there was one not too far from the next shelter.
On my way there, I met a section hiker. He began with the NoBo bubble back in April intent on thru-hiking. However, he injured his knee just 400 miles in and had to get off trail. Months later, he had finally recovered and was getting back out there to knock out the sections in VA he couldn't finish.
I reached the spur trail for the Mount Rogers summit. I read several places there was just a survey marker waiting at the top. As I stood there debating whether or not to make the side trip, a guy came down the path. He could read my mind.
“You thinking about going up there?”
“Is it worth it?” I asked
“Depends.”
“Is there a view I mean?”
“No. It’s just a marker under tree cover. In fact, you’re getting a better view right here.” He gestured to a lovely vista through the trees directly behind me. I thanked him for saving me the time and energy. Perhaps if I find myself in that neck of the woods again, THEN I’ll venture to the top of Mount Rogers.
I set my pack down on the picnic table at Thomas Knob Shelter to have a look around. I was told by most of the folks I talked to that day how nice it was. They were right. Compared to the two-story shelter at Roan Mountain, this one was in pristine condition. The no fire signs on the front of the shelter made it a deal breaker though. The wind was going to be much milder tonight, but they were still calling for chilly temperatures and I wanted to stay warm. Plus, I still needed to find the bear box.
Not far, was a flat grassy area with a single tree in the middle of it. Under the tree was a large metal container. That would be it! A fire ring with steep walls sat nearby. I got that gut feeling again “This is the one.” After unpacking everything, I backtracked to the shelter for water. I followed the most scenic water spur trail ever to a pipe at the bottom. I enjoyed the view as I waited on my water bladders to fill.
After I finished collecting firewood, I got an unexpected visitor. A pony with a long blonde mane and little white spot on its forehead came trotting down the trail and through my camp. It passed mere inches in front of me and down a narrow path on the other side of the clearing. I can truthfully say I did not pet him. While I was VERY tempted to, I resisted and kept my hands to myself. They look friendly enough, but I’ve seen videos of people being bit and kicked by these guys. It is not pretty.
I ran into a woman coming from the shelter while doing one last patrol for sticks. She was looking for the bear box. I pointed her in the direction of my site. Soon after, a man with a black lab puppy came down the trail. He asked if I had seen the woman. I sent him in the direction of the bear box as well. After they got set up in the shelter, I told the couple they were more than welcome to come sit by the fire at my site if they got cold. They took me up on it and said they would come over after eating dinner!
At one point during the evening, I opened the bear box to find a nasty surprise waiting inside. A gallon Ziploc bag filled with moldy packaging and rotting food scraps. “Seriously!?” I thought out loud. There was at least three days worth of trash in the bag. It was also clear this thing had been here a WHILE. The couple I was sharing the box with had just started their trip, so I volunteered to pack it out the next morning.
While making dinner and prepping for the fire, I was scared half to death by a loud rumbling sound. Like thunder, only it was coming from the ground. Hooves! I looked up as a five brown and white spotted ponies came charging down the trail. They stopped in front of my camp snorting and huffing. After a moment, the leader of the herd took off again and they all followed out of sight. Talk about a magnificent moment! To think, I almost gave up this morning over a little cold and wind.
To avoid making the same mistakes as the night before, I started out with a tall cabin around a deep nest of dry material. The matches caught the kindling instantly. No fire starter or map corners needed. I had a strong blaze going by the time my new friends came over. The puppy, Toby, licked my hands and wiggled all over the place as he greeted me. It made me miss my own dogs a lot. At first we shared the basics “Where are you from?” “What do you do for a living?” Then we got into some trail stories.
The wife shared about a major blunder on one of her earliest backpacking trips. It wasn’t something she did, but rather something the folks leading the trip did. They insisted the members of the group needed to pack all their food and toiletries in glass jars! Not only did this add tons of weight to everyone’s packs, it also introduced an unnecessary safety hazard. She knew it was a ridiculous request, but as a Freshmen she didn’t want to challenge the authority of the Seniors leading. So, she went along with it.
I shared about the time the infamous “Boy Scouts” mutinied our campsite on the Foothills Trail. I also told them stories other hikers shared with me about encountering that same group. They couldn’t believe it! We had a great time chatting around the fire.
It didn’t take long for Toby to fall asleep. He curled up in his owner's lap like a bagel. Every so often, his snoring would overpower the conversation. When it was time for the couple to go back to the shelter, it wasn’t easy getting Toby up and moving again.
Day Three
I woke up to drops of condensation hitting my forehead. I unzipped the tent to find the beautiful scenery around the campsite completely cloaked in fog. The great thing about hiking further than expecting yesterday was having a much shorter route today. It also meant I could take my sweet time fixing breakfast and packing up.
The wind wasn’t as bad this morning, but again I decided to do most of my packing inside the tent. As I finished rolling up my sleeping pad, the couple staying in the shelter came to get their food from the bear box. Toby ran right up to the tent and licked my cheek through the mesh door. The husband apologized, but I thought it was great. There’s nothing like being greeted by a happy dog first thing in the morning. Soon after, the last patch of clouds rolled out. It was time I do the same. So, I finished my coffee, grabbed the abandoned trash, and broke down my tent.
The last 4 mile stretch was the highlight of the entire trip. The scenery was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Hiking over jagged rock features and through the open meadows, I felt like I was walking through the set of an epic adventure movie. Every step of the way I thought “I’m so glad I saved this part of the trail for last.” In my trail journal for Big Bald, I mention how the view from that summit is the kind that inspires you to explore further. It makes you wonder what’s beyond that point in the distance, and the next one, and the next. The views between Wilburn Ridge and Massie Gap had the same appeal.
After spending most of the second day walking through dense woods, these wide open spaces were a welcome change. The most memorable part was this massive rock feature. As I rounded the corner, the trail seemingly stopped at the base of it. I spotted a white blaze on the side of the rocks. It seemed to say “You have to go over it!” From my perspective, it looked like a fall into a gorge was waiting on the other side. But there was nowhere else to go. With careful footing, I made my way up it. On the other side wasn’t a treacherous drop off, but a boulder covered clearing with a footpath through the middle of it. I hopped down to where the trail continued. The feature was deceptive from the other side, but very cool!
While taking a few pictures of the feature, an elderly couple came from the opposite direction. They were both huffing and puffing heavily.
“Is this Mount Rogers!” The woman asked abruptly
“No ma’am. That's pretty far from here.” I tried to give her an approximate distance. “You have to pass the shelter. Then there’s a sign for the-” She cut me off.
“Well, I have this AllTrails thing that’s supposed to take us to Mount Rogers!”
Now she was irritated. “We keep getting to mountains like THIS and I think we’re there. But you’re saying we’re NOT!?”
Giving her more directions probably wouldn't accomplish anything, so I smiled and nodded instead. I started inching away as she continued complaining to no one in particular about not knowing where they were going.
“Y’all have a good rest of your day.” I called back.
Approaching Massie Gap, I ran into crowds of day hikers and a couple more SoBo thru-hikers. The funniest character I encountered was a woman wearing a full safari outfit and holding a camera. As I came down the trail she screamed at the top of her lungs” ARE THERE ANY PONIES! ARE THERE ANY UP THERE?!”
“No” I said “I haven’t seen any today.”
By now I was a few feet in front of her, but she continued to shout.
“THERE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PONIES HERE! BUT I DON’T SEE ANY!”
I’m no expert, but if there were any hanging around, all that yelling probably scared them off.
At Massie Gap, I propped my pack up on a rock and reclined in the grass. I had just 0.5 mile to go, but I wanted to take a minute to relax in this beautiful place before getting on the road. I leaned my head against my pack and closed my eyes. A minute or two later I heard a man say
“You aren’t lost are you?!”
I popped my head up and looked around. He was talking to me.
“No, I’m going that way.” I pointed to the sign for the parking area.
“Okay, just checking. The ranger at the trailhead told us someone called in saying they’re lost and need to be rescued.” He explained.
“Nope. I know exactly where I am.”
The man laughed and continued walking up the trail.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes again. This time I was roused by the sound of gravel crunching under tires. A ranger came up the trail in a 4x4 vehicle.
“You didn’t meet anyone out there who said they were lost, did you?”
“No, I haven’t.” I gave him the CliffsNotes version of where I’d been that day in the hopes it would narrow down his search. He said something about Cabin Ridge, but it didn’t ring a bell. I wished him luck with the search, and he drove off.
I made the last 0.5 mile trek back to the trailhead. Before heading home, I stopped at the Visitors Center. I bought a patch for my day pack with a little pony on it. I also walked around the museum area inside. Seeing the old photographs and farming equipment from the settlement the area was founded on was fascinating.
While Virginia is a long way from home, (more than I usually travel for backpacking trips) this destination was so worth it! I would love to visit Grayson Highlands again. Perhaps I’ll venture even further into Lewis Fork Wilderness and the Mount Rogers High Country.
Know Before You Go!
If you don't already know, "Grayson Highlands" is just the state park side of things. While I did begin and end my trip in the park, majority of the route I followed was through the backcountry areas outside of it. Camping within the park boundaries is restricted to just their designated campground and facilities. If you intend to take a backpacking / dispersed camping trip, plan on going into the National Forest land and Wilderness Areas outside of the park.
While Grayson Highlands is a state park, don't be deceived by that label. The terrain can be very challenging and the weather unpredictable. Having a plan and a back-up plan for your visit is crucial. This is especially applicable for those planning on backpacking the areas outside the park like Little Wilson Creek Wilderness, Lewis Fork Wilderness, and other parts of the Mount Rogers National Recreation Area. In my situation, making changes to the route the night before proved to be a very wise move. Having a good understanding of the trail system beforehand is also helpful. I highly recommend picking up the Trails Illustrated 318 map by Nat Geo! You can also find more a general map of MRNRA provided by the USFS online for free. I can't stress this enough, but being prepared is key; whether you're out on a weekend long trip or just for a day hike. All of that being said, if you do get the opportunity to visit Grayson Highlands enjoy every minute of it!
Last, but certainly not least: PLEASE follow all the rules regarding the ponies. Do not pet, feed, or harass them. I know, there are dozens of photos and videos out there of other hikers doing it anyway, but that doesn't mean you should too. If you get too close, the ponies might just let you know the hard way! (Like this guy who was kicked in the groin. Skip to 3:30) As tempting as it may be, and as friendly as they may seem: They are still wild animals. They will kick and/or bite you. The risk of having your visit ruined by a preventable injury like that isn't worth it.