A family adventure in Shenandoah

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By Jeff Bucki

“I’m so glad we came here.”

That’s what my teenage daughter, Izzy, told me as we were miles onto Doyles River Falls Trail in Shenandoah National Park.

Now, Izzy had been set on vacationing at the beach in Delaware again. But she was intrigued by the Virginia park. She mapped out all the hiking trails, trying to pack in as much adventure as possible. She dove headlong into her role, complete with cowboy hat.

We aced our first four trails and were having a blast on our fifth.

“Blue salamander,” exclaimed my 11-year-old daughter, Bridget. We rushed over to a rocky ledge for a glimpse at what turned out to be a five-lined skink.

We got lost soon after the lizard was found—but let me back up.

Shenandoah is the second-closest national park to Buffalo (the closest is Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Ohio). It clearly has global appeal, as we heard different accents and languages on our trip.

We experienced two days of sunshine. The damage from Hurricane Helene prevented us from riding horses, but that meant we had more time to explore Shenandoah’s picturesque hikes.

Each trail brought its own tale. We hiked Stony Man and Hawksbill Summit, which begin in the forest and finish with peak overlooks. Next was Dark Hollow Falls, which features a creek and several waterfalls. It looks like something out of “The Hobbit.”

I see my kids’ best selves emerge in the woods. When we get them outside, they’re excited to explore freely. Heck, it’s also the best version of my wife, Jenn, and me. Bridget’s triplet brothers, Nolan and Elliott, searched under rocks for rattlesnakes—I don’t think that’s in the guidebook.

By the time we got to Millers Head, the triplets were running on fumes. “This is child labor,” protested Bridget. But they ended up having fun. It was a little spooky as we heard noises we couldn’t place. I kept thinking we were going to run into a black bear. The trail takes many meandering turns before ending climactically at an old fire tower.

Spirits were high the next day as we explored Doyles River Falls, which we mostly had to ourselves. The triplets sang “The Ants Go Marching” as we descended the trail, which takes you deep into the wilderness. There’s a rushing creek and a series of extraordinary cataracts. We took waterfall photos, made wishes and then—found ourselves separated.

While we were looking for the skink, my wife forged ahead, assuming we followed. Making matters worse, Izzy went looking for Jenn.

We had broken the cardinal rule of horror films. We didn’t stay together.

Now it was just the triplets and me, wondering if we should continue forward. I didn’t want to press our luck so we turned around, confident they would eventually make their way back. Bridget was upset but I tried to calm her. The sun was shining. We just needed to reconnect.

Finally, we got out of the woods and back to our vehicle. But I didn’t have the keys! So, we headed to the waystation that was “just down the road.” That winding road was far longer than I anticipated. We observed many butterflies. It was a lovely day to be lost.

After walking a few miles, a familiar vehicle drove up. Jenn and Izzy had met a nice couple from Iowa who gave them a ride back from the trail that they had inadvertently taken.

Shenandoah is so pretty. Maybe Doyles’ beauty disarmed us. Even though it got stressful for a minute, it just made our trip more memorable.

As we were leaving for Washington, D.C., we encountered a bear at the side of the road. Seeing us off. Capping the journey.=