The Bear Loop Trail

Rhododendrons on the road to Ingalls Airport.

Judy had recommended hiking on the Bear Loop Trail at the top of the Warm Springs Mountain Preserve. This is located beside Ingalls Airport, a small airport which bills itself as the highest airport east of the Mississippi. I set out hoping that I might get to see some native rhododendrons and azaleas in bloom. The native flame azalea in my garden had bloomed just two weeks earlier, but with this mountainous area being higher in elevation and cooler, the chances of these plants blooming a few weeks later was a good possibility.

I was not disappointed--driving along the road to the airport I could see rhododendrons in bloom dotting the rocky outcrops. I parked at the designated area by the trailhead and set out around 11 or so in the morning, with sketching gear in my backpack. I noted other plants along the way as I entered the Bear Loop: highbush blueberries, wood vetch, a lone Pinxster azalea (Rhododendron periclymenoides), which usually blooms earlier, was still displaying blossoms, and it had these strange galls that looked like small apples. I later found out that these galls, called Pinxster apples, are caused by a fungus, Exobasidium vaccinii, that Pinxster azaleas are particularly susceptible to.

 

Pinxster azalea (Rhododendron periclymenoides) with galls.

HIghbush Blueberry blossoms (Vaccinium corymbosum)

I was looking for  a nice specimen of the native Rhododendron, R. catawbiense, which blooms at this time of the year, and found an amazing array of them here! These display quite a variety of flower shades from deep purple-rose to light pink. The buds are usually darker, almost magenta, before the flowers open to a lighter color.

 

 

I found one waist-high bush where the flowers would be at eye level while I sat on my small camping stool, and parked myself in the shade off the trail to sketch. After hurriedly blocking in the flowers and a few leaves, I was ready to start with watercolor, but my small Sennelier set didn't seem to have the right hues to reproduce the exact color of the flowers--the best I could do was to approximate it with a Rose Madder Lake that made them look too rosy.

 

Field sketch of Rhododendron catawbiense, bug stains included.

 

Still, it was challenging and fun to try to capture the flowers as faithfully as possible, their shapes and the lighting; it took me about an hour or so to get this far. By that time I was famished and went to look for the sandwich I'd brought only to realize that I'd left it in my car! Oh well, I wasn't too far into the trail, I could walk back and get it. It was now around 1:30 and the car was very hot--I decided to walk up to the airport to use the toilet and eat lunch in air-conditioned comfort on one of their easy chairs. While there I chatted with the lone airport manager--he told me he was usually the only one there, but today his wife was helping, mowing the area around the runway. The day's air traffic consisted of three or four small planes landing, and a couple of SUV's who picked up the passengers.

 

Canada Mayflower (Maianthemum canadense)

Here's a photo of some lovely Canada Mayflower (Maianthemum canadense) that was growing right by the base of the rhododendron I painted. Another related plant,  false Solomon's seal (Maianthemum racemosum), was growing lushly by the side of the trail. Bowman's root was also in flower.

False Solomon's seal (Maianthemum racemosum)

Bowman's root (Gillenia trifoliata) in flower.

By the time I resumed my hike on the trail it was after two. Once I passed the spot where I'd done my sketch, more and more rhododendrons in all shades began to appear, some tree-sized! But where were the flame azaleas? There should be some around here too.

Rhododendron catawbiense

Flame azalea (Rhododendron calendulaceae)

Toward the northern end of the loop, I finally found some thickets with flame azaleas. Odd, how these plants seemed to grow isolated from the other Rhododendrons, in shadier places. Many were tree-size--nothing like my poor garden's lovingly cultivated yet still puny specimen. The alkaline soils of the northern Shenandoah valley don't provide the type of acidic, moist and humusy environment these plants favor. Here they were in their native element! They exhibited many variations in color too, from pale yellow to deep orange.

 

Flame azalea

There were areas where the Rhododendrons covered the shady sides of the trail, making it look like God's own botanical garden, untouched by human hands, despite the signs of prescribed burns. No wonder Scottish plantsman George Fraser, who first collected these plants on Roan Mountain in North Carolina in 1809, was so taken with them! One of these days, I too, hope to visit the Roan Highland balds to see that amazing sight, maybe next year? This is more than enough beauty for me for now...

The northern portion of the loop

Rhododendrons under red oaks

Tall flame azaleas.

There were lots of mountain laurels here too, still in bud. Personally, I think the pink buds with their star-like shapes are probably more attractive than even the open flowers themselves.

Mountain laurel (Kalmia latifolia)

At the extreme point on the northern end of the loop, there were some steep drop-offs offering spectacular views of the Allegheny mountains and valleys.

The view from the Bear Loop Trail framed with mountain laurel.

I could have stayed here all day, but my feet were giving out. The trail is measured as roughly three miles long, but with my backtracking, I'd probably done closer to four miles by now. I'd almost taken a wrong turn down the mountain on another trail, but turned around once I found a sign with the right blaze.

The sun was getting lower on the horizon when I spotted a small black bear crossing the path some twenty yards ahead of me. Was there a momma bear with junior, or was he an abandoned juvenile? Not taking any chances, I yelled out, "Yo, bear!" as loud as I could, and the startled youngster turned around to look at me, then ran off into the forest. Whew! I continued to berate the bear loudly long after he was gone, just in case.

 

Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)

 

The rest of my hike was uneventful, spotting only one lone native Columbine flower on the way out.

Ice Mountain

Twin flower (Linnaea borealis) and partridgeberry (Mitchella repens).

A few Sundays ago I visited a most unusual site with the Piedmont Chapter of the Virginia Native Plant Society (VNPS). Ice Mountain Preserve in West Virginia, now owned by the Nature Conservancy, is one of the weirdest places around--a naturally-occurring refrigerator! At the bottom of an algific (cold-producing) talus slope, air is drawn in thru vents, and insulated by a layer of very thick sandstone blocks underneath, the air is cooled, causing ice to form inside small cavities on the side of the hill. The cold air flowing from these vents creates a micro-climate on one side of the trail, where plants normally found in sub-artic regions such as northern Canada can flourish. This site has been designated as a natural heritage site; access is restricted and arrangements must be made to visit with a guide.

Our group met at the Old Inn in North River Mills, a small town that used to number a few hundred back in the 19th Century and gradually depopulated until only one inhabitant remains at present. Our guide and docent, Kristin, told us that back in the 19th Century the local inhabitants used to gather the blocks of ice during summer to cool drinks and make ice cream. Unfortunately this practice depleted much of the ice in the crevices, but some ice can still be found.

Ice inside a cavity at Ice Mountain

Storm clouds had been gathering as I drove to the site. As we were starting out on the trail, a peal of thunder warned of the storm's approach, and our group decided to return to the inn and wait until it had passed. A wise decision, as we would have been completely soaked had we continued. Kristin entertained us with stories of the inn, and we explored the interior while waiting for the skies to clear.

Eventually, the rain stopped and we started out again. The path led up a hill, and through woods carpeted with understory plants such as bedstraw, black cohosh, southern beech fern and maidenhair fern, some of which I recognized from previous encounters, but many plants here were new to me, such as this Appalachian wood fern.

Appalachian wood fern (Gymnocarpium appalachianum)

The Cacapon River

As we descended the other side of the hill and rounded a bend, the path began to parallel the Cacapon River. We were asked to walk single file on the trail, in order to protect the fragile vegetation. Wending our way through a forest of huge Rosebay rhododendrum (Rhododendrum maximum) which would probably not bloom until July, the temperature became perceptibly cooler as we reached the talus slope.

Hiking through a forest of rhododendron.

Ice Mountain mist

Mist wafted from the cavities along the base of the talus slope. One of the group had brought a thermometer which we placed inside one of the small cavities. It was about 80 degrees ambient that day, but inside the cavity the thermometer read 38 degrees. Ice could be seen inside one of the larger cavities.

Ice Mountain crevices

The rare plants began to appear on the side of the trail with the crevices: Bunchberry (Cornus canadensis), Canada Mayflower (Maianthemum canadense), Minnie-bush (Menziesia pilosa), Nannyberry (Viburnum lentago), Late low blueberry (Vaccinium pallidum), and many more that I missed, being too far behind our docent. The range of botanical oddities was impressive.
 

Bunchberry (Cornus canadensis)

Canada mayflower (Maianthemum canadense)

Late low blueberry (Vaccinium pallidum).

We came across the lovely twin flower (Linnaea borealis) growing in amazing profusion over just one section of the trail. This low creeper grew intertwined with Partridgeberry, Canada Mayflower, Bunchberry and mosses along the ground. A lone specimen of the Prickly rose (Rosa acicularis) was so precarious it had been protected from browsing animals behind a small fenced enclosure.

Twinflower grows profusely over the rocks.

Prickly rose (Rosa acicularis) behind fence.

Our docent Kristin told us that genetic studies of the boreal plants at this site revealed that this group of plants were likely the remnants of vegetation left from the last Ice Age that retreated about 10,000 years ago. Unlike we humans, who can only inherit one set of chromosomes from each parent (haploid), plants, particularly ferns and other flowering plants are capable of inheriting more than one set of chromosomes from each parent to become polyploid. This process happens as plants reproduce over a number of generations, whereas early generations tend to have only two sets of chromosomes, which the plants here were found to have.

Beyond the patch of Twinflower we came across a flowering clump of Northern bedstraw (Gallium boreale), Skunk currant (Ribes glandulosum) and Horsetail clubmosses (Equisetum arvense). The afternoon was waning, so reluctantly, our group started the trek back to the inn. I would have liked to climb up to the top of the hill to observe the ravens nesting there (I had seen them while driving in) but by then my feet had given out. It was time to head home.

Northern bedstraw (Gallium boreale)

Horsetail clubmoss (Equisetum arvense) and witch hazel seedlings.

Skunk currant (Ribes Glandulosum)

I hope to eventually find time to paint the tiny and exquisite Twinflower, so unique and beautiful!