Weekend Road Trip: Part 1

Second post today! 

We took a road trip Saturday, which ended up being a big circle. 

Our goal was Hawk's Nest State Park, where the New River Gorge Historical Society was sponsoring a ramp dinner. Ramps, for those who aren't familiar with them, are an Appalachian plant (they may grow elsewhere but I am not sure about that), that is a cross between leeks and garlic, as best I can describe them.  They grow only in certain locations, and have been sought by mountaineer as a spring tonic, and an early fresh green, for generations. 

Ramps are famous for making a dreadful stink. If you eat them raw, you will literally ooze that pungent smell from your pores for days. Boys used to wat them to get kicked out of school. But prepared properly, they are delicious (although they will still make your breath pretty strong!).  In Soring, mountaineer communities across West Virginia put on ramp "feeds" as a fundraiser and they are always well attended. 

As you can see on the above map, the first leg of the trip was easy, down I-77 to Charleston. Then we took US Route 60, the Midland Trail, which follows the Great Kanawha River to its beginning at the junction of the wild Gauley and New Rivers, we'll known for their whitewater and class 4 rapids. This route was the path for early settlers here, and is also the home of the Dickinson Salt Works. Back in the day, it was a very active coal mining area, but today many of the mines are closed. The tipple below is still operating, so there must ve a working mine or mines somewhere in the area still.

This is a beautiful drive in Spring, before the trees leaf out, because you can see the river almost the whole way, winding along on the other side of tge railroad tracks.

Another feature of this drive is waterfalls. This little falls doesn't seem to have a name I can find.

No one was there when we stopped, but there were so many butterflies! We saw this one, a red spotted admiral, I believe,

Here he is with wings folded.

And this one, o e of the comma butterflies,  but I couldn't get a good enough picture to be sure which kind.

Isn't this a great rock cliff?

If you embiggen this photo you can see some of the butterflies. It was honestly like being in a butterfly house. We saw tiger swallowtail, zebra swallowtail and a spicebush swallowtail in addition to the admirals. There must have been 50 flitting around, often flying right by our noses.

Tracks and road intertwine in several places on this road.

We passed by Kanawha Falls, where we stopped last year for lunch one day, but couldn't resist Cathedral Falls. There were quite a few people there, but only one butterfly.

First wild geraniums I have seen in bloom this spring. 

And finally, Hawk's Nest. Such a view! 

More tomorrow!

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

On the Way to Clifftop

The journey is often as interesting as the destination. On the way to Clifftop for the Appalachian String Band Festival, we saw:

This mother nursing her babies beside the bank drive-through. Maybe she needed milk money?

Boomer Bottom Road in Boomer, WV--and the next road to it is Lenten Lane. Repent, ye sinners! (Now you do know, don't you, that a "bottom" in West Virginia means a small flat field beside a creek or river? Clean up your minds out there!)

Much mining of coal and coal equipment, like the Mammoth mines coal tipple.

Beautiful water, since we were following, for most of our journey, along the banks of the Great Kanawha River (pronounced kun naw', in case you wondered).

Four lovely waterfalls, like this one known as Cathedral Falls along Route 60 near Gauley Bridge.

And one old storyteller trying to keep her balance on the rocks beside said waterfall.

There is a lot of history along Route 60, also known as the Midland Trail because it was the main route for early frontiersmen and settlers, and legend has it that the route was originally traced by buffalo and native Americans. I've touched only a small portion of it. Traveling the old roads so often brings rewards, and it's why we left early enough to accommodate our ingrained rubbernecking tendencies.

I learned this evening that what we are actually has a name: shunpikers. Who knew? I thought I just preferred backroads, but evidently there are a lot of people just like me who travel the old roads in search of the real life of our country.