New Year's retreat at Lost River State Park

January 02, 2026

New Year's retreat at Lost River State Park

In past years, I used to host parties on New Year's Eve. It was a fun tradition, while it lasted, but as youth progressed to middle age, I guess I grew weary of facing the new year with a raging hangover and a kitchen that looked like it had been hit with a cyclone full of champagne flutes, confetti, and remnants of baked brie.

A new tradition was born: a retreat to a cabin in the woods somewhere. I did this for a number of years with my long-term former partner, JD, and his dogs. In the evening, we'd stoke the fire in a stone fireplace, prepare a nice dinner (often crab legs), have a few drinks, and play cribbage. And on the first and second days of the year, after a hearty breakfast, we'd go hiking. After we broke up in 2024, I continued the tradition on my own and went to Cacapon Resort State Park in West Virginia for New Year's, although I was too late to secure a cabin there and had to settle for a room in the lodge.

This time around I thought I would stay home, but a few days before New Year's Eve, struggling with severe holiday depression (now past, thankfully), I once again found myself looking for a cabin online, and reserved the last one available at Lost River State Park. It seemed fated. I'd stayed at this West Virginia park before, in December of 2018, with JD and my father. By then, he had started to show subtle signs of the illness that took his life this fall, although he wasn't diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease until 2020.

Dad and I at Lost River State Park in late December of 2018 (photo by JD)

I took my Dad, in spirit, back to Lost River for this New Year's Eve retreat.

Shrine for Dad on the mantelpiece. Candle courtesy of my good neighbor.

Cozy fireplace with Dad's shrine on the mantel

I had a low-key meal of leftovers, sipped on hard cider that I had purchased at a place down the hill, and recorded multiple takes of "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve" before posting one to YouTube.

I received a call from a good friend who got DOGE'd from D.C. to California last summer, messaged with some other folks, and at midnight I connected with JFT for a video chat, since he had opted to stay home.

Before going to bed, a little before 2am, I checked the weather on my phone and saw that it was calling for "light snow showers". I peeked outside and saw nothing, but when I woke up in the morning I got my wish for snow!!

View from the back door of my cabin on New Year's Day

View of my cabin from the road

I was the first human to lay tracks in the snow on the cabin road that morning. I walked about a mile before breakfast, just back and forth on the road, not on any trail.

For my first breakfast of 2026, I made a hearty salami & cheese omelette, accompanied by sliced tomatoes and a side of fried sweet potatoes and onions. Yum!

I got out on the trail for my First Day hike around noon, and hiked a fairly easy-going loop of about 2.6 miles. The trailhead was just a short walk up the road from my cabin.

I was content to return to the cabin mid-afternoon, with plenty of time to reflect on the successes and failures, highs and lows of 2025, and formulate my plans for 2026. I had a long, relaxing yet productive evening in front of the fire.

I went back outside for a short walk a little before midnight. The moon was full and I had no need for a flashlight while walking along the cabin road. It was utterly still. Beautiful.

Checkout time was 10am on January 2, which got me out on a trail earlier than the day before. My Second Day hike was longer, too, about 4 miles. I took the White Oak Trail from the horse stables to Cranny Crow Overlook.

Yeah, that's a sock on my hand. I forgot my gloves at home!

Looping back down a different trail after the summit, I stopped at a horse backpacker's campground. There was a "glamping" tent erected on a wooden platform, but it had a hole in the door, so I was able to peek inside. The mattress was fairly horrifying.

I'd bring my own tent and sleeping pad, thanks! Or better yet, my hammock.

I was pleased to find outhouses near the tent, so I didn't have to bare-ass it in the cold. I'm not sure why they need to be gender-specific up there, but I'm not complaining. Anyway, I used the men's because the women's seat was wet!