Pushing Limits (and Finding Beauty): White Oak Canyon & Cedar Run Loop

Monday, May 4th, 2026

Today was a day I must capture.

It started on very little sleep, thanks to noisy neighbors down the way partying until 1:00 AM. Not exactly ideal for tackling a strenuous hike. When morning came, Echo had zero interest in getting up. I mean zero. There’s actual video below of me dragging him out of bed to start the day.

Our destination today: the White Oak Canyon and Cedar Run Trail loop—8.6 miles with about 2,254 feet of elevation gain. A serious day by any standard.

What I didn’t fully appreciate at the start was just how brutal the descent would be. Over less than three miles, we dropped around 2,700 feet on a relentless stretch of loose shale, boulders, rock steps, and uneven footing. It’s the kind of trail where every step demands attention. But wow, what a place!

Towering canyon walls rise up in sections, broken up by dense forest, moss-covered rocks, and trees that feel like they’ve been there forever. A creek runs alongside the trail, and the sound of rushing water is a constant companion. It’s rugged, humbling, and absolutely beautiful.

We stayed alert, as this is prime copperhead habitat, but Echo was a total trooper. His paw pads held up incredibly well (thank you, New Hampshire granite training hikes!).

The trail is dotted with cascades and waterfalls, each one more inviting than the last. Near the final stretch of the descent, we came upon a particularly stunning cascade where a pair of backpackers had set up camp. Honestly, it looked like the perfect spot to spend a night in the woods.

We exchanged a few friendly words and continued on, soon meeting an older couple hiking a shorter section. We talked about slow hiking….turtle pace hiking….and actually taking the time to appreciate everything around you. I liked them immediately. That mindset stayed with me.

Eventually, the trail leveled out and transitioned into softer footing. Dirt, pine needles, and less ankle-twisting chaos, which was a welcome break. Soon, we reached a junction and headed toward White Oak Canyon for the climb back up.

Then reality set in. About 2,300 feet of ascent ahead… and my legs were already feeling the effects of the descent. Not ideal. Still, the trail made it worth it. The climb follows the river more closely, with constant views of cascading waterfalls and inviting pools. Echo took full advantage, splashing, drinking, and enjoying himself along the way.

One of my favorite parts of the day was the people we met. A hiker named Ron struck up a conversation and asked if I was a “survivor.” It took me a second to realize he meant my breast cancer tattoo. I explained that it wasn’t for me, but for my best friend and several family members who are survivors. A meaningful moment on the trail.

Later, I met an older gentleman who had decided he’d had enough for the day. While his friends had continued on, he’d taken a nap on a rock by the river and was heading back to wait for them. Honestly? Respect.

And then there were his friends, who later asked if I’d seen “Santa Claus” on the trail. I couldn’t stop laughing.

At one point, I knew I had to stop. We found a perfect spot by a cascade, kicked off the boots, and had lunch. Echo even napped, which he never does on trail. That alone told me how demanding the day had been.

Further up, we reached a stunning waterfall, one of the many highlights of the climb. I soaked my feet, stretched, and let myself just be for a while. It was a busy section of trail, with hikers stopping for photos, but somehow it still felt peaceful.

The couple from earlier caught up to us, and we chatted again. The woman was amazed that Echo and I had come all the way from New Hampshire to hike and camp solo for the week. Her energy was contagious and uplifting at just the right moment.

As the climb continued, it started to shift from physical to mental. The trail was relentless…. boulders, steep grades, canyon walls…. and I found myself wondering: Can I actually finish this?

But really, what choice did I have? The only way out was through. So onward we went.

We reached the final waterfall and collapsed in the shade for yet another break. By this point, the day had warmed up into the high 70s, a big adjustment after a long New Hampshire winter. We weren’t used to it yet.

Soon after, we hit a junction and began the return toward Hawksbill parking. A river crossing gave me my first slip of the day, but no fall, thankfully. However, I did tweak my left knee. Hiking poles for the win.

Also, for the first time ever… I ran out of water. I refilled from the river (without my filter… yes, I know). The water tasted incredible…and side note, I did not get sick.

From there, the trail turned into an old carriage road, still climbing, but far kinder on the body. About two miles and 700 feet later, we reentered a narrower forest trail that reminded me of the Australian High Country.

And then… finally… The parking area.

Echo and I collapsed in the grass beside the car and just lay there for a solid 15 minutes.

We did it! 8.5 hours total (half an hour faster than I’d estimated, and far better than I had dared hope)

Back at camp, we ate dinner and crawled into bed early. I read for a bit before falling into a deep, much-needed sleep.

Until a crashing sound jolted me awake.

A windstorm had rolled in and knocked down a tree behind our tent. I didn’t sleep much after that. Eventually, around 2:00 AM, I drifted off again. We woke around 7:00am, had breakfast, and decided that the only plan for the day… was absolutely nothing.

And after a day like that?

Perfect.