Peaks of Otter / Blue Ridge Parkway
Peaks of Otter Recreation Area | Hiking Sharp Top and Flat Top Mountains | Falling Waters Waterfall | Bedford, VA | August 2023
We arrived at the Peaks of Otter campground near the Blue Ridge Parkway around four in the afternoon, and after setting up the van, Jessica allowed me to go climb up the closest ‘Peak of Otter’ – Sharp Top Mountain. Of the three peaks that make up the ‘Peaks of Otter,’ Sharp Top is easily the most popular. There’s even a bus that goes up to the top, but I had likely missed the last trip and the trail wasn’t long anyway.
I walked through the campground over to the trailhead parking lot where there were still several cars, as well as the bus station. The trail had a very steady incline all the way up over about 1.5 miles and I passed a couple groups going up and down the mountain. As I got close to the top, I passed a pair of women coming down who informed me (in typical hiker fashion) that I was getting close to the top. And of course, I still had the steepest part of the trail to go.
After a bunch of rocks, roots, and steps, I made it to the top of the boulder-strewn and rocky peak of Sharp Top. It was rather hazy, but this close to sunset cast a golden glow that lit up the surrounding mountains. I took my time to admire the view, look for a letterbox, and just enjoy the peak to myself. I also learned that, at least until the mid 19th century, this peak was (somehow) believed to be the ‘loftiest’ peak in all of Virginia, was lauded by Thomas Jefferson as one of the great wonders of the continent, and stone from the peak was shipped to D.C. as Virginia’s contribution for that most famous Virginian, George Washington, during the construction of the Washington Monument -because Sharp Top was the ‘loftiest’. Depending on what the term ‘loftiest’ means, this is particularly comical as:
1. Sharp Top is not the highest peak in the state (Mount Rogers far to the South takes that prize)
2. Sharp Top isn’t even the highest peak in the Peaks of Otter. Flat Top, directly across the valley, is almost 100 feet higher, and there are higher peaks further along the Blue Ridge well within view!
But, the peak is fairly prominent and this marked my 69th prominent peak in my personal peak-bagging challenge. Nice.
Satisfied with my time, I began the climb down, passing many of the same hikers I had on the way up. It was getting late, but still plenty of light. At about a half mile from the end of the trail, I ran into the women I had seen near the top of the mountain. “Thank Goodness you’re here,” one said in a loud whisper, “There’s something on the trail, and we’ve been waiting almost a half hour for you to help us get past it.”
My mind started processing what they had said and going through the possibilities. Something on the trail? A half hour? Why are we whispering?
“Is it a bear?” I asked.
“No it has wings!”
“Huh?”
“It’s an owl!”
“Huh?”
“It flew at us, don’t you see it?”
Then came a period while they pointed out a barn owl standing by the trail looking at us. Apparently, on the way down, said owl had flown low over their heads, repeatedly startling them. Then, rather than continuing down the trail, they retreated back up the trail, did a quick google search to confirm that the owl could theoretically attack them, then proceeded to wait for me, because, and I quote, ‘I looked like the type of person who would know what to do.’
Not one to disappoint, I concluded that the owl likely had a nest somewhere along this stretch of trail, so I suggested that we just bushwhack around the owl. They readily agreed and we set off noisily through the brush. About halfway through our bushwhack, the owl flew up and landed further down the trail. After some much panicked whispering, I informed them that we would just have to continue on the trail, stay together, stop whispering, and talk normally.
The owl, foiled by my brazen behavior, followed us for a distance and then gave up. I, however, was stuck with two hiking friends who had just been informed that the best ward for owl attacks was talking. And so for the last twenty minutes of my hike, we talked endlessly; mostly about hiking and wildlife, which invariably lead to talking about bears, bear safety, and my limited experiences with bears (Jess has more experience than I do).
At the trailhead, I said my farewell and then retraced my way through the campground, finally having a decent story to share with Jess. Hopefully they learned something, had a good adventure, and weren’t too scared off from future outdoor adventures.
The following day I had a meeting, so we decided to venture off the mountain to the ‘city’ of Bedford, VA. In Virginia, cities are separate jurisdictions from counties and therefore are counted separately, so going into Bedford was killing two birds with one stone. Or so we thought. We based this decision on our paper county map (which we carry with us of course), but apparently in 2013 Bedford was resorbed into the county, a fact we learned only after driving the half hour into town. What can you do?
We found a city park to have my meeting in while Jess and Charlotte wandered around, and once the meeting was over we drove back up to the parkway. We chose to do a short waterfall hike near our campground aptly named ‘Falling Waters’. Charlotte took her time going down the numerous stairs, roots, and rocks, but we made it to the bottom of the falls just fine. We took our pictures and enjoyed the cool of the shade. We could have made a loop hike out of the trip, but we decided for Charlotte’s sake to just return the way we came.
At this point, I was at one end of a longer hike that would take me over another prominent peak, and the highest Peak of Otter: Flat Top Mountain, and from the top, I could hike all the way back to camp. It was too much to pass up, so Jess drove back to the camp site with Charlotte leaving me to cover the 5 miles by foot. Whereas Sharp Top, of the night before, was popular (if not crowded) and had scenic views from the top, Flat Top was neither. It was a quiet and uneventful hike through the forest without any owl attacks or other hikers at all. Near the top, there were a couple of outcrops offering vantage points, but it was even hazier than the day before and they paled in comparison to the 360 degree views from Sharp Top. Take it from me, if you’re ever at the Peaks of Otter, Sharp Top is the peak to climb. But, if anything, I hike for the sake of hiking and this was my 70th prominent peak.
Once I arrived back at camp, we had our dinner and then decided to go for one more sunset walk around the nearby lake. Charlotte took her sweet time, but that was fine by us. The nearby resort provided some much needed WiFi for us, and innumerable pets and pampering for Charlotte. The haziness above provided a perfect golden hour below, and our long meandering walk provided an excellent ending to our time at the Peaks of Otter.
