I Just Completed My First Full Moon Hike
I’ve had “WNC full moon hike” on my bucket list since I moved here six years ago, and have been obsessed with the concept of full moon hikes for far longer than that, ever since I attended a full moon cross-country ski party at the Cascade XC Ski Center in Lake Placid, NY (Cascade has since been sold to the Adirondack Mountain Club who operates it now under their name, and last year brought back the parties)
Despite the wealth of bald peaks in the area I knew would look amazing under a full moon, life, of course, kept interfering. Full moons would often fall during the work week, when I couldn’t exactly justify staying out super late (especially because the god damn sun stays up till close to 9:00 most of the summer down here), and it seemed like every time it fell on weekends, I’d already have plans that prevented me from going up into the mountains.
How the Full Moon Hike Came About
However, due to circumstances beyond my control (aka the whims of corporate America), I’ve found myself currently jobless—though I’ve been using “untethered;” I like the “unbothered” connotation it gives (even if that connotation doesn’t always accurately describe my mindset)—and thus, when I woke up around 3:00 a.m. last weekend, and saw the light from the moon spilling through the blinds and practically illuminating my bedroom, I said to myself, now’s the time, and started Googling.
The Google gods told me it was just three nights before the official Beaver Moon, the largest super moon of the year.
Because I had plans on the actual full moon night, I went the day before, on a Tuesday, where else, but my trusty Black Balsam (I figured going somewhere I was pretty familiar with would be smart in the dark). Arriving near sunset (which, now that it’s post-fall-back time, was a responsible 5:30), I took the Investor Gap Trail while there was still light. I began ascending the Art Loeb Trail toward Tennent Mountain as the sun disappeared and the moon slowly climbed above the horizon.
Nice But…Underwhelming
By the time I summited Tennent Mountain, the moon was out, the sky was bright, and I found it all…perfectly nice? Medium levels of cool? A pleasant experience, but nothing near the thrill and rush I felt skiing through the Adirondack forest as the full moon bounced off the snow. Maybe that was it, I thought, the snow was really what made it something I couldn’t wait to do again, versus a perfectly cool experience.
What I’ll Try Next Time
I didn’t have a bad time, and I’ll definitely attempt another full-moon hike, but after a week or so of reflection—and more Googling, natch—I think I’ve figured out a few tweaks I could make to recapture the Adirondack full-moon magic.
- Pick a forested trail: I picked Black Balsam because of the expansive views you get from its bald peaks. I thought that would really allow me to see the full breadth of how much and how far you could see in the full moonlight. However, on a very clear, very bright night at Black Balsam, you could very easily—one might say too easily—see the lights from Asheville and its sprawl, which takes you out of the nature of it all. And as I climbed down off the bald peaks and onto the part of the Art Loeb trail that winds through Balsam firs on the way to the parking lot, the night really came alive in the ways I wanted it to. Moonbeams coming through pine boughs, and the moon itself peeking out from Balsam groves, are much more impressive than just a moon in the sky.
- Clouds also add drama: I always say that a cloudy sunrise or sunset is often better than a clear night. I chose a very clear night (and actually picked Tuesday over Monday because the forecast was fully clear). A partly cloudy night adds depth, atmosphere, and suspense—similar to the moon in the forest vs. over the bald peaks.
- Timing matters: Full moons are brightest near their peak, usually around midnight or early morning. I went too early. Next time, I’ll take a nap or something, skip the sunset, and start my hike much later. For example, the Beaver Moon 2025 peaked at 8:19 a.m. ET, meaning it was at its best and brightest in the night sky just before daybreak, around 4:00 a.m.
A Silver Lining, and Plea for Full Moon Hike Recommendations
I’ll say, there was something more than just kind of cool—and borderline eerie—about being the only one up at Black Balsam, something I wondered about as I hiked, but confirmed when I returned to the parking lot to find only my car.
Even though my first full moon hike didn’t prompt me to add the next one to my Google calendar, I think I’ll consider those tweaks and give it another go. Next time, I’ll pick a more forested trail and leave later. If anyone has completed any particular WNC hikes on a full moon, they suggest, I’d love to know.









