The Elf-path winds its way amid the trunks of the trees from west to east. It is not an easy path to follow. At times, it is so narrow that only a single traveller can walk along it. It curves and twists and bucks like a wild horse. In places, the path climbs up steep hills, where the Elves cut steps into the earth. The tree branches overhead form a solid roof of wood and leaves, admitting no sunlight or fresh breeze; walking the Elf-path starts out like walking a tunnel, and soon comes to resemble being buried alive.

The magic of the Elvenking ensures that the path is never blocked. Spiders might weave their webs so thickly along the edges of the path that a single mis-step would send a traveller to a sticky end; trees might grumble and drop branches, wolves might run alongside the path for days, their hungry eyes gleaming in the darkness — but none dare block the path. If you don’t stray from the Elvenking’s Path, you will eventually find yourself at his door.

There are no inns or homely houses on the path, no shelter save the overhanging branches. The Elves hide supply caches along the path, but these are so cunningly concealed that an outsider will never find them. The Beornings warn those who travel through Mirkwood to take plenty of supplies with them, for there is no safe food or water within the forest.