ROCKY GAP STATE PARK

The plan for our fifth and final day in Western Maryland was to hike the 6-mile Lakeside Loop Trail at Rocky Gap State Park that runs around the entire shoreline of Lake Habeeb. As we walked around the lake, Jimmy and I speculated about how a vast body of water in Western Maryland could be named after someone from the Middle East. We wouldn’t unravel that mystery until we stumbled upon an interpretive sign many hours later near the dam, explaining the Habeeb connection.

Lake Habeeb encompasses 243 acres and is typical of all Maryland lakes, meaning it’s man made. There are no natural lakes in Maryland. They all sit behind a dam. The lake averages about 30-feet in depth, and is over 90 feet in some places, making it deeper than most of the Chesapeake Bay.

Edward Habeeb, a local businessman, and president of the Route 40 Association, was the guy who first envisioned a large state park at Rocky Gap and he donated a bunch of his own land for this noble cause.

The park opened in the summer of 1974, and when the dam was dedicated on the nation’s Bicentennial in 1976, the state named it after the park’s biggest booster, Lake Habeeb.

The dam was built atop Evitt’s Creek and the deep wooded canyon below the dam, comprising almost a third of Rocky Gap State Park, is officially designated as “Wildlands” in order to protect the sensitive habitat for numerous rare and endangered animals and plants like the tiger beetle and the wild bleeding heart. I bet you didn’t know there was actually a plant with that name. I thought it referred to a crybaby of the liberal political persuasion.

I always forget that 78 degrees with a strong sun in the mountains at 3,000 feet feels like about 88 at sea level and the sun is more intense because there’s little humidity. We were going to learn that lesson with a vengeance on our long hike.

Gambling money from the Rocky Gap Casino has definitely been dumped into the adjacent state park in large quantities. There’s a new grassy amphitheater for outdoor concerts, boat launches for the many boats that cruise the lake, and three big white sandy beaches on the lake for some fine swimming.

At the second beach we came to, we spent an hour just sitting in the cool, crystal clear water like lazy hippos and it felt heavenly after baking in the hot sun. And as usual, even though this was peak summer on a hot sunny day, there really weren’t that many people at the beach. I’m sure Ocean City was packed to the gills. In fact, I’ll betcha there were more people at the Thrashers Fries on the Boardwalk than at all the beaches at Deep Creek on that Tuesday morning in August 2019.

We left the beach around one and as we were passing the nearly empty campground we saw a milepost sign informing us that we were only about halfway through our hike and still had over three miles to go. And shortly thereafter, we started hearing some serious thunder and lightning to the north. We couldn’t see the sky in that direction because of the forest trees but it was obvious we were in for some severe weather. The thunder soon started booming to the west and we realized the on-coming storm was closing in around us like a knot.

We picked up our pace and as we neared the dam, just across the lake from the sprawling brown Casino Lodge, we could see the rain drifting ominously toward us from the south in dark, swirling sheets that resembled a sky curtain. It was only a few minutes away and thunder was already crackling menacingly overhead like cloud artillery.

Even though the casino complex was right across the lake from our position, it might as well have been miles away. There was no time left before the storm came crashing down on us.

On the far side of the emergency spillway we stumbled upon a little open-air gazebo. We were saved!

The storm hit like a rain bomb as we sat safe and dry in our cozy shelter at the edge of the white-capped lake. And for the next thirty minutes nature cut loose with a stupendous aerial drum solo as the temperature dropped about twenty degrees.

We were lucky to have found shelter in the gazebo because we had no rain gear, figuring that if it did rain, it would be exhilarating and fun. But we had forgotten that we were in the mountains where hypothermia can quickly turn a hot summer hike into a chilling life & death proposition. So, the gazebo might very well have saved our lives.

By the time the storm blew past, we had totally cooled off and were even feeling a bit chilly; the air smelled fresh and intoxicating; and everything was shiny, like it had been power washed by god. Steam clouds rose off the lake and trees like smoky mist. It was hard to believe it was even the same day.

Feeling energized, we took the short, but steep, Rock Shelter Trail, to see several weird natural rock outcrops and overhangs that had been used by local Indians for shelter, starting way back in the Archaic Period six thousand years ago.

You would think that after all this hiking, two old coots like Jimmy and me would have had enough. But we still had one more hike left in us.

The Canyon Overlook Trail led us to a spectacular rock ledge overlooking the deep, majestic wildlands canyons of Rocky Gap where we stood with our mouths agape and got a magical glimpse at what Maryland must have looked like a thousand years ago. That view alone made the six hours of hiking well worth the effort.

We still had about a half-mile to go back to the car and the trail took us right by the front door of the Rocky Gap Casino. After all the natural treasures we had seen on the trails, not to mention the bang-boom storm, we were feeling lucky and just had to check that crazy place out. Man, you talk about surreal. I’m not really a gambling person, so the whole blinking lights and ding-a-ling music show, be it Vegas or Western Maryland, always seems a bit over the top to me.

But we did have something amusing happen. We walked through the casino, checking out the blue-haired slot machine scene, and I took a couple of pictures with my phone. It turns out that photographing the inside of the casino is strictly verboten, and we were quickly surrounded by several highly agitated guards who demanded that I immediately delete the photos I had taken. I happily complied. Everyone relaxed. And we escaped unscathed back to the safety of the great outdoors.

Rocky Gap State Park is a wild ride. It’s got it all: golfing, boating, swimming, hiking & biking. And when you finish, you can walk right next door and gamble to your heart’s content while eating a gourmet meal in the lap of luxury.

I’ve covered a lot of ground over the years, but I can’t think of any place where there is so much to do in in one place. And there are a dozen other stoner state lands, forests, wildlands, wildlife management areas, natural resource areas, and historic sites within a radius of about fifty miles of the park.

I would not be exaggerating if I said you could easily spend a week exploring Western Maryland and when you finished, I guarantee you will say to yourself, “Wow! That was big fun. Why didn’t I do that before?”

Oh, and here’s a handy travel tip when you are passing through Western Maryland. On the east end of the little town of Hancock is the Blue Goose Market. I have been stopping there for years because they offer, in addition to a huge variety of local jellies, jams, and arts & crafts, the best homemade pies on earth. When you walk in the place, the smell of freshly-baked pies is overpowering. And the incredible selection of fruit pies will cause your head to spin around in circles.

The owner, Penny Pittman, was the key mover & shaker behind the construction of the Western Maryland Rail Trail. She is a force of nature. And her pies will keep you coming back year in and year out for more.