Mouth a-runnin' as I tell some kind of tale high up on the mountain.
The heat was intense and unusual for this area of West Virginia where many people have no air conditioning because typically it doesn't get much over 80 degrees. Yesterday was 92, but the heat left with the sun and a bright, almost-full moon lit the evening wild meat cookout. Bear, elk stroganoff, deep-fried turkey, clams and clam chowder, venison chili and probably other meats were cooked by the men who supplied it. The bear was particularly interesting--it was slow-roasted in a pit in the earth, covered in red-hot coals. The final result was tender and as tasty as roast beef. We provided new potatoes and green beans from our garden, and Kirk Judd did the honors and cooked those up.
The evening's music was all flavors and levels of expertise. Master musicians such as Jimmy Costa, Tim Bing, Robin Kessinger, Jake Krack, Mike Bing, members of the Black Mountain Bluegrass Band, and many others were outside playing in jams on porches and the parking lot of the Marlinton Motor Inn, where Echoes is held each year. Beginners and intermediate players found others to play with them, or watched intently on the edges of jams, occasionally playing along when they could keep up. No one is left out who wants to play. The old-time music echoed from the hills until well after midnight. We reluctantly headed to bed at 1:30 am, knowing we had to be up early for the drive to Charleston to take me to an appointment and then to work.
Before the evening festivities, I conducted my workshop at a camp on the Greenbrier River. The views from this camp are breathtaking:
Shade gives way to field:
A bear scratched the trunk of this apple tree last winter. Look closely to see the scratch marks on the trunk in the middle of the photo.
The lovely Greenbrier River, where our sons competed in the Great Greenbrier River Race in April:
The one-lane bridge crossing the river looks right at home in its setting.
A barn with three lightning rods on Droop Mountain, between the camp and the motel:
And early this morning, The View from Little Laurel overlook on the Scenic highway (Route 150) :
A wildflower I am not familiar with. Can anyone identify this for me?
Mist was rising and flowing around us when I took this photo:
More wildflowers. I am not sure what the yellow ones are, but the red bergamot was lovely with the yellow flowerheads, white elderberry blossoms, and purple-pink crown vetch.
Then we had to quit fooling around and make some time getting back to our home territory. It is always difficult to leave Pocahontas county, and even more difficult to leave when so many good friends and great music are still there. Next year, I hope I can once again attend the whole week of workshops. There is nothing quite like a week in the mountains with musicians and artists, natural scenery all around, and long summer nights of music and laughter.If you ever wanted to learn to play or write or sing, check into Allegheny Echoes. I can guarantee you will go home with the knowledge and creative energy you need to be successful. Not to mention a lot of new friends and memories that will bring you back like a homecoming to the Pocahontas county mountains.
