36°f, about 3°C, overcast, a damp chill in the air.
Today we had a leisurely day planned. Online van-hunting in the morning, then lunch with a friend and the last, I hoped, of Christmas shopping. I
think I have remembered everyone. Usually we give quite a few homemade gifts--things from the cellar, dried herbs mixes, baked goods, etc. But this year I just wasn't feeling like it, so we made our small contribution to the economy instead.
We met our friend Suzy at our favorite place, the West Virginia Artisan Market. When Shari started the business in 2020, she had no plans to get into the food business, but she did want to serve beer and wine to customers strolling the aisles of arts and crafts. In order to get the proper State license, however, she had to serve food. Weird, she thought, but she devised a simple menu and figured she wouldn't sell many meals anyway. Wrong. Her prices are reasonable, the food is good, and now in her new location the place is usually packed.
As we dawdled over our coffee, my phone rang. The auction company, reminding me that the online auction pickup would be over in an hour and did I want my stuff. I had totally forgotten! So off we dashed, fortunately being only 35 minutes away from the auction site.
Google maps took us to the place expertly, but boy was it out there. I mean, I live on a gravel road, 4 miles from the 2 lane highway, 12 miles from town. This place was 9 miles back on a one-lane road--paved (called a hard road here) but narrow and twisting with many a blind hill and curve. Just the kind of road we like.
As we drove, I was struck by the number of barns and silos.
While there was some good bottomland here and there, this was hilly, steep country.
Where, I wondered, did they grow all the corn to fill those silos?
Obviously most of them were no longer in use, just silent reminders of the days before regulations shut down almost all the small dairies. But still, they had to have grown the corn somewhere. My mind is still ruminating on that.
There were so many things I wanted photos of, but I was only able to get a few as we drove along.
Our destination, Ghost Hollow Road. And my mind is also busy with that: where did the name come from? Was it based on the 200 year old story from that area of the bear hunters who camped under a shelving rock one night? It was winter, so the men built a fire right at the front of the shallow cave. The rock here is sandstone, which can have water trapped between layers of rock. The rock exploded from the buildup of steam, crushing the men. Sadly they did not die instantly but sent a young boy who was sleeping outside for help. The area was so remote that it took hours for help to arrive, by which time the men had died. Is it their ghosts this sign refers to?
Well, enough of that chilling train of thought! A few other sights along the way:
And finally, after picking up the few things I had won, we made our way down the steep driveway to the road...
and back to town to do that shopping.
Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
