Dolly Sods Wilderness, West Virginia has more backpacking route options than packrafting options. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t good routes to be done if you’ve got a little inflatable boat, some running shoes, and some ingenuity.
Logan brought the ingenuity in the form of our very well planned and mapped route. He and I met at the Northeast Packrafting roundup in 2023, and this was our first multi-day trip together. Alex had also planned a previous trip with me, but I had to cancel on him then. Thankfully he was able to make it out to join us without a lot of notice for this one.
Day 1
April 13-14, 2024
We left vehicles at the Dollar Store in Davis, then shuttled down to the Red Creek trailhead on the other side of Dolly Sods.
There had been a very heavy downpour overnight, and Red Creek was absolutely pumping. Red Creek, the culmination of the minor creeks in the Sods, with its continuous Class V gradient and long rocky slides, wasn’t on our paddling docket for this trip. It’s currently the domain of hard shelled boats and much better paddlers than our group. I imagine the mile-long hike in, combined with the requirement for lots of rain, keeps many paddlers out of this stream. I recommend checking out The Red Creek Sessions documentary on YouTube, even if only for the photography. Red Creek is only boatable at high flows, which coincide strongly (I suspect) with the USGS Blackwater gauge at Davis.
As it flows south, we would hike northward along the creek for much of our first day, and eventually have to cross it. We passed several groups attempting backpacking trips in the area, but all had turned back as the trail forded the rain-swollen Red Creek. We tentatively waded in to try our hand at several different places, but we couldn’t find a safe enough place to fight our way across.
We inflated our boats and paddled across one at a time beneath a small rapid. We packed up and continued hiking upstream. Past this point, the high water made sure we saw no one for the rest of the trip. Packrafts for the win. The south of Dolly Sods is dominated by several large mountains that overlook the Red Creek Valley. As the trail heads north and climbs out of the valley, the scenery becomes a bit more varied and interesting. Upstream of the confluence of Left Fork, all the waterways are small enough to wade, even at the almost-flood stage we experienced.
Alex wasn’t feeling well as the day went on, so we pulled up short and made a nice camp in a stand of trees near Blackbird Knob. We shared stories, talked about our plans, and got some good sleep.
Day 2
The next morning wasn’t any better for him, and he decided that he would hike east to the Wilderness boundary on his own and catch a ride back to town, rather than risking the group not being able to make it back to town by evening. We said our temporary goodbyes, and Logan and I set off northward along the Raven Ridge Trail.
The views in this part of the Wilderness are almost akin to something you’d see out west. I’m looking forward to coming back to experience this part of the Sods again.
Near the northwest side of Dolly Sods, the trail flirts with private property, so any hikers hoping to connect the Sods to the Canaan Valley National Wildlife Refuge, as we did, may want to head off trail for a short span before picking up the trail again inside the refuge.
We were fortunate enough to have the water levels to put in at the first tributary the trail crossed, so after a quick lunch break, we started our paddle at noon. Sand Run flowed quickly into the Blackwater. The river was swift and the sweeper branches plentiful and low enough to steal my GoPro off my head as we fought our way through them. After 10 minutes of combing through the foot-deep water, I was able to recover it because of a bright blue case I’d thankfully added. Whew!
Soon though, the beaver dams showed up to slow our progress. We split our time between paddling easy 2mph water, scraping over the bottom, and scrambling over dams. Somewhere after the North Branch entered, the river transitioned to a much more relaxed experience. The flow was 2-3 mph, and we hardly needed to paddle. There were no rapids, only pretty banks and trees and water birds and lots of hints of swampland surrounding us. This particular stretch was an ideal length of river, and is the highlight of the paddling portion of the trip for me.
There was one unusual (to me) thing of note though: There was one (or was it two?) pipelines that were placed at a dangerous level just above the water surface, and required portages at our water level. They were marked by a cable above, making them foot bridges, as well. 4:00 in the video. Stay heads up as always.
A vehicle bridge marks the transition out of the Wildlife Refuge and into a slight gorge, with an associated increase in speed, gradient, and difficulty. The riverside scenery was gorgeous as the flatwater river changed and showed us a few Class II rapids, then a few Class III-. I emptied my open Scout of water several times, and was thankful for having added thigh straps. As we approached a horizon line we pulled over river left to shore scout. It was a Class IV-, eight foot high waterfall with a big roiling hole at the bottom, followed by half a mile of continuous Class III-. Due to the high water level, this was considerably more dangerous than the couple Class III rapids that American Whitewater had prepared me for.
I was without a helmet or dry suit, and wearing an inflatable pfd in an open boat. Perfect for the upper Blackwater, but a knife in a gunfight down here. Logan had brought a kit I thought might be overkill, but his Wolverine, drysuit, pfd, and helmet were looking mighty good right about then.
We considered portaging the waterfall and paddling the Class III below it, but I wasn’t confident in ferrying across the whole width of the river without broaching on one of the hundred rocks hiding just below the surface, nor about swimming the continuous rocky water in an inflatable pfd. Logan, not wanting to paddle the next section alone and without a safety, generously decided to stay with me and we would find a way to portage the next half mile or so.
Bushwhacking to the (very) nearby trail was a 30 minute sweaty ordeal, but then we were able to walk a bit and put back onto the river just below the dam. The rest of the paddle was as uneventful as it was beautiful and perfectly lit by the setting sun. We made our way into Davis at about 6pm. We were met by Alex, who had bought us fruit and regaled us of tales of his hitchhike with a Boy Scout troop. We finished our shuttle and said our goodbyes.
Thanks Logan and Alex for a memorable trip.
Risk Management
I think this is a good place to point out that being undergeared or underskilled for a surprise difficulty jump on a trip is, despite our best efforts, something that happens in packrafting. Remote water levels fluctuate, beta for tiny streams can be scarce or wrong, trips lengths can outlast a weather forecast, and every ounce carried for safety on the water can make a trip less safe on land.
It’s OK to carry too little, like I accidentally did, as long as good decisions are made and portages or bailouts are possible. It’s OK to underestimate the difficulty of a section during planning, as long as you are observant in the field, have the option to get off the river or trail before it becomes an issue, and the courage to say “I shouldn’t do this” in the moment. Overconfidence and groupthink can be as big a danger as the river. I’m proud of Alex’s decision to modify his route, and then Logan and I’s decision to hike around the most dangerous water.
Remember too that canyons, ice, and brush can make a retreat from the river impossible, so be very careful around them.
CFS was 1500 at Davis when we crossed Red Creek on Day 1, and 1000 dropping to 800 as we paddled the Blackwater on Day 2.