A Long Journey on the Trail

The W& OD Is Park, Path and Community, and Paul McCray Has Been in Charge

Paul McCray can recall the history of the Washington & Old Dominion Trail from memory. Deeply involved in shaping it for more than two decades, he has amassed a load of knowledge about the trail, the people who travel it and things that happen there.

McCray, 51, took his first job with the Northern Virginia Regional Park Authority when he was 16 and began working on the W&OD Trail 12 years later, in 1985.

"I was a little leery at first because it was so different than any of our other parks," he recalled in an interview at his Fairfax Station office. "I just started going out, stopping and saying hi to people. . . . Everybody I met, I gave a business card. People got to know me, and they knew they could call me if they saw something or just had an idea."

The W&OD Trail, which runs through the heart of Arlington, Fairfax and Loudoun counties, was established over several years in the mid-1970s and '80s after its namesake railroad was closed. Since the first test mile in Falls Church in 1974 generated enthusiastic public response, the trail has expanded in size and popularity and is widely used by joggers, bikers and those who just want to enjoy nature.

"There is not a single site along the W&OD Trail that Paul McCray doesn't have some idea as to its background," said Brian Bauer, marketing and communications manager for the park authority. "He's absolutely the foremost word on anything involving this trail."

McCray can tell you about the group of women who biked in from California and decided to do the last portion of their trip along the trail naked. (He didn't actually see this but heard about it from a tipster, who witnessed the stunt and followed the riders for a while before calling to report it.) Or he can tell you about a runner who happened to work in the airline industry and found a plane's cargo hatch in Ashburn, around mile marker 25, near Dulles International Airport. The Federal Aviation Administration came to claim it for investigation, but McCray said he was never told precisely from where -- or what -- it had come.

"We're hoping that's not repeated, that the airplanes that fly over the trail hang on to all their parts," he said.

Trail anecdotes encompass life milestones, too. From childbirth to death, McCray has heard it all.

Several years ago, a woman who lived right off the trail in Falls Church near mile marker 6 went for a walk to help her labor progress. It worked a little too well, and soon her baby was born on the side of the trail.

Years later, the woman contacted McCray with a request: She wanted to bury the placenta, which had been stored in her freezer, on the spot where her daughter had been born. McCray checked with the health department -- apparently, no rules on the books barred this -- and granted her permission.

"I didn't feel this was something that needed my supervision," he added.

The path is lined with benches and rest areas, many of which are memorials to patrons of the W&OD. Bobby Utterback, who suffered from heart disease and whose legs had been amputated, started riding his wheelchair on the trail after doctors warned him exercise was the only way to extend his life.