We were on the road heading west towards Ohio when the heavy rain started. The weather had held out just long enough to get in a few clear days that allowed for a sunny, fun, and joyous visit with my family in Maryland. It wasn't but a few moments after saying goodbye to them that the first loud thunderclap rang out ominously across the sky.
"Well, that's not foreboding or anything."
The drive through western Maryland was mostly uneventful, though. It was smooth sailing as the skies darkened and cast shadows upon the mountain tops, forests, farms, and old Appalachian towns. Just before we entered the mountains of West Virginia, it started to rain. The mountains and forests of West Virginia are a bit more dramatic than those in Maryland. Whereas Maryland mountains are generally smoothed and rounded, the mountains in northern West Virginia are steeper and more deeply cut by winding rivers and creeks, while the forests stretch on barely interrupted for as far as the eye can see. The little towns near the Maryland border feel old and that lends them a certain charm and uniqueness. Numerous buildings retain their old decorative stone carvings, unique signage, and ornate facades influenced by bygone architectural styles. General stores, mom and pop shops, and local businesses dotted the main streets, with only a spattering of big name chain stores; instead of the reverse, as is common in more "developed, modernized" areas. In so many small towns we have visited, there is a juxtaposition of "old town" areas that have character and neighboring "new town" areas where big chain stores and generic cookie-cutter economic development has taken hold. These new town areas pretty much look and feel the same no matter where we have gone. They're quite predictable, as even the insides of the chain stores are nearly identical no matter the location. It's the older towns, though, that capture my interest and really speak to the unique history, current story, and culture of each locale. Continuing westward and passing through more of these small towns, another pattern I've noticed in my travels became evident again. The bigger the nearby new towns are, the more likely it is to see shuttered small businesses, for sale signs, and abandoned buildings in the old towns. It appears that unless there is a strong arts and foodie scene, tourist attractions, or local effort to promote, preserve, and patronize small businesses, the international and national brands succeed in out-competing them and altering the face and conditions of the locality.
As we were passing through a "new town", nearing another "old town" in southwestern Pennsylvania, torrential rains started to fall upon us. Driving visibility became so poor that we pulled off the highway and sat for a little while in a parking lot. A flash flood warning interrupted our conversation and blared through the cell phone. We waited until the heaviest rains and thunder passed before heading back out on the road. Pressing forward, the warning held true and flash floods were raging through the old town streets. The intersection along the town's main street had rapids and streams of water rushing though. Cars and trucks both cautiously and recklessly drove and splashed through the rain water that had accumulated in the intersection. It is no wonder we didn't see anyone getting stuck or swept away! They say it only takes 2 inches of water for a car to really lose its grounding and 12 inches to float the car away. I wager there was at least 6 inches along most of the town's main street, rushing in rapids of about 2 feet deep and heading down to the nearby creek. We managed to get through that obstacle, but changed our route in order to stick to higher ground.
"This reminds me, we should really get a kayak soon and do some whitewater."
The skies cleared as we crossed into Ohio. I was stunned by the beauty of the Ohio River and surrounding green valley. The steep valley hillsides were dotted with dramatic rock wall cliffs and outcrops, presumably eroded by the river and rains over the eons. From the scene, I would wager that the river was once much wider and deeper, likely carved by ancient glacier runoff.
"This reminds me, we should really get a kayak soon and do some whitewater."
The skies cleared as we crossed into Ohio. I was stunned by the beauty of the Ohio River and surrounding green valley. The steep valley hillsides were dotted with dramatic rock wall cliffs and outcrops, presumably eroded by the river and rains over the eons. From the scene, I would wager that the river was once much wider and deeper, likely carved by ancient glacier runoff.
The picturesque Appalachian scene was soon interrupted and replaced with scenes of industry, drilling, mining, and pollution. Signs along the highway announced, "landowners, we buy mineral rights!", "Warning! Underground pipeline, do not dig." and, "Oil and pipeline traffic 25mph"." In the distance we saw smoke stacks spewing out a nearly incredible amount of smoke that billowed into a massive cloud which loomed large and stretched to the horizon.
Drawing closer to what I would come to learn was a coal power plant, a particular burning scent entered my awareness. Soon, we were driving through what at first appeared to be a mist or fog from the prior rains. It did not take long to realize that this fog was a haze of air pollution. The closer we got to the power plant, the more yellow the haze became, and the more my eyes began to burn. Jay mentioned that his eyes were burning just as mine were starting to really tear and itch from the gases. He pushed the pedal down and we flew away as quickly as we could from the noxious fumes that caused a creeping headache. I wondered how long it would take for the body to grow accustomed to the assault, and furthermore, I wondered about the long-term effects on the local’s health. Downstream from the plant, more dirty industry dotted the river banks. I saw some fishermen out in a boat along the river. We cringed to consider how high the mercury levels must be in the fish there. The yellow haze of smog persisted for a good hour or two past the plant, settling through the valleys and carried by the thick, billowing, streaming emission cloud above. Apparently, that plant is listed as the 28th most polluting in the country. And while that wasn't too surprising to learn, it gave me pause to think that there are 27 that are worse.
Drawing closer to what I would come to learn was a coal power plant, a particular burning scent entered my awareness. Soon, we were driving through what at first appeared to be a mist or fog from the prior rains. It did not take long to realize that this fog was a haze of air pollution. The closer we got to the power plant, the more yellow the haze became, and the more my eyes began to burn. Jay mentioned that his eyes were burning just as mine were starting to really tear and itch from the gases. He pushed the pedal down and we flew away as quickly as we could from the noxious fumes that caused a creeping headache. I wondered how long it would take for the body to grow accustomed to the assault, and furthermore, I wondered about the long-term effects on the local’s health. Downstream from the plant, more dirty industry dotted the river banks. I saw some fishermen out in a boat along the river. We cringed to consider how high the mercury levels must be in the fish there. The yellow haze of smog persisted for a good hour or two past the plant, settling through the valleys and carried by the thick, billowing, streaming emission cloud above. Apparently, that plant is listed as the 28th most polluting in the country. And while that wasn't too surprising to learn, it gave me pause to think that there are 27 that are worse.
Pressing into Eastern Ohio, evidence of the embedded fossil fuel industry regularly appeared among the endless rolling hills and agrarian scenery in the shape of small wells, pipelines, signs, strip mine quarrying, storage tanks, and mining roads. A fog descended through the valleys, blanketing farm houses and pastures.
As twilight approached, we were miles from a paved road, bumping along on dirt and gravel roads and heading deep into Wayne National Forest. Due to the rain delays from earlier in the day, we arrived at camp well after dark. I much prefer to get into camp during the daylight so we can access the area and have an easier time setting up the tent, but unfortunately, it was too late for that. This is something we should have learned to always do after unknowingly staying in a dispersed camping site... in a bear sanctuary in The Smokies; but the following is another example of why arriving before dark is a good practice.
The secluded forest campground, Ring Mill Campground, was a small one with just 3 camping sites close together along the Little Muskingum River, with a small buffering of trees and brush between them. Historically, the site used to be a homestead, grist and saw mill. Built between 1840-1846 by the Ring family, the stone house, made of locally sourced and hand-hewn sandstone, still stands today by the entrance of the campground. The land was eventually bought by the forest service in the 1970s and descendants of the Ring family continue to volunteer to upkeep the structure. We pulled into a camp site to throw the head beams onto the grassy tent platform and check things out. Though it was dark, everything looked good; but looks can be deceiving. Inching forward, we could see that the tent site was a tad too close for comfort to the muddied and rain swollen river. As we went to back up and turn around, the car started sliding forward down the ever-so-slightly sloping land, towards the steep river embankment that had a drop-off of about 4 feet to the waters below. The heavy rains had turned the ground and grasses to terribly slick, thick mud, that was not perceptible when we rolled in. As the weight of the car pulled us forward, brakes were useless. Through quick reaction,just plain luck, or some combination of both, Jay managed to throw it into reverse and steer us in a way that brought us to a halt, a mere 3 feet from the edge of the flooded river. He backed us away and reversed a bit more from the edge, but that slight slope prevented all further movement up and out. The tires spun under the weight of the car and no amount of maneuvering could free us. We tried what we could, but eventually accepted the truth. We were stuck.
"Dammit!! I knew I should have held out and gotten a 4-wheel drive SUV!"
Stepping out of the car, we each kept slipping on the slick mud as we moved around to look at the situation and consider our options...which were few. We hadn't intended on "off-roading" so we didn't have any helpful equipment on hand like chains or pulleys. We were out of cell signal range, so AAA couldn't help. The closest paved road and houses we knew of were miles away. We tried to create some leverage and traction under the tires by laying down and wedging sticks and gravel under them. That helped a little, yet even with each of us taking turns giving the car gas and the other pushing the steel beast, it wasn't enough to get the job done. Just when hope seemed lost, 2 cars rolled into camp. 2 guys got out, strapped on headlamps and flashlights, and started unhooking canoes from their car roofs. We paused a brief moment in hesitation, considering all the "stranger dangers", lack of signal, and fairly remote location, but ultimately, I went over to wave them down. The fact that they had canoes aided the determination that they probably were not axe murderers. I told them we were stuck and could use come help. The hesitation in the one guy’s voice made me feel a bit relieved, as I'm sure they were doing the- middle of the night, middle of the woods, stranger calculations, too, on top of the common impulse people have to not get involved in things. After talking it over together, they came down to check out our predicament and one of them nearly wiped out hard on the slippery mud. “Yeah, this is pretty bad, isn’t it. Damn!” We gathered some more sticks and made a bridge of sorts to drive up onto and the 3 started to push with all their might. Rocking the car back and forth, with feet repeatedly slipping out from underneath them, eventually, and at last, the car was freed! With gratitude and deep appreciation, we thanked them for the help and offered all we really had on hand to give- some of jays handcrafted stone spear point arrowheads, which they accepted with enthusiasm and interest. They said they were happy to help and get some good karma. We learned they were going to hammock camp and set out on canoes to go down the river in the morning. They pointed out that just next to our campsite was a river access point. As they pulled their cars around to set up their camp, one guy just narrowly avoided sliding into a ditch and becoming stuck himself! The momentary look of panic on his face and spinning wheels made me smirk from irony as the rain started up again.
As twilight approached, we were miles from a paved road, bumping along on dirt and gravel roads and heading deep into Wayne National Forest. Due to the rain delays from earlier in the day, we arrived at camp well after dark. I much prefer to get into camp during the daylight so we can access the area and have an easier time setting up the tent, but unfortunately, it was too late for that. This is something we should have learned to always do after unknowingly staying in a dispersed camping site... in a bear sanctuary in The Smokies; but the following is another example of why arriving before dark is a good practice.
The secluded forest campground, Ring Mill Campground, was a small one with just 3 camping sites close together along the Little Muskingum River, with a small buffering of trees and brush between them. Historically, the site used to be a homestead, grist and saw mill. Built between 1840-1846 by the Ring family, the stone house, made of locally sourced and hand-hewn sandstone, still stands today by the entrance of the campground. The land was eventually bought by the forest service in the 1970s and descendants of the Ring family continue to volunteer to upkeep the structure. We pulled into a camp site to throw the head beams onto the grassy tent platform and check things out. Though it was dark, everything looked good; but looks can be deceiving. Inching forward, we could see that the tent site was a tad too close for comfort to the muddied and rain swollen river. As we went to back up and turn around, the car started sliding forward down the ever-so-slightly sloping land, towards the steep river embankment that had a drop-off of about 4 feet to the waters below. The heavy rains had turned the ground and grasses to terribly slick, thick mud, that was not perceptible when we rolled in. As the weight of the car pulled us forward, brakes were useless. Through quick reaction,just plain luck, or some combination of both, Jay managed to throw it into reverse and steer us in a way that brought us to a halt, a mere 3 feet from the edge of the flooded river. He backed us away and reversed a bit more from the edge, but that slight slope prevented all further movement up and out. The tires spun under the weight of the car and no amount of maneuvering could free us. We tried what we could, but eventually accepted the truth. We were stuck.
"Dammit!! I knew I should have held out and gotten a 4-wheel drive SUV!"
Stepping out of the car, we each kept slipping on the slick mud as we moved around to look at the situation and consider our options...which were few. We hadn't intended on "off-roading" so we didn't have any helpful equipment on hand like chains or pulleys. We were out of cell signal range, so AAA couldn't help. The closest paved road and houses we knew of were miles away. We tried to create some leverage and traction under the tires by laying down and wedging sticks and gravel under them. That helped a little, yet even with each of us taking turns giving the car gas and the other pushing the steel beast, it wasn't enough to get the job done. Just when hope seemed lost, 2 cars rolled into camp. 2 guys got out, strapped on headlamps and flashlights, and started unhooking canoes from their car roofs. We paused a brief moment in hesitation, considering all the "stranger dangers", lack of signal, and fairly remote location, but ultimately, I went over to wave them down. The fact that they had canoes aided the determination that they probably were not axe murderers. I told them we were stuck and could use come help. The hesitation in the one guy’s voice made me feel a bit relieved, as I'm sure they were doing the- middle of the night, middle of the woods, stranger calculations, too, on top of the common impulse people have to not get involved in things. After talking it over together, they came down to check out our predicament and one of them nearly wiped out hard on the slippery mud. “Yeah, this is pretty bad, isn’t it. Damn!” We gathered some more sticks and made a bridge of sorts to drive up onto and the 3 started to push with all their might. Rocking the car back and forth, with feet repeatedly slipping out from underneath them, eventually, and at last, the car was freed! With gratitude and deep appreciation, we thanked them for the help and offered all we really had on hand to give- some of jays handcrafted stone spear point arrowheads, which they accepted with enthusiasm and interest. They said they were happy to help and get some good karma. We learned they were going to hammock camp and set out on canoes to go down the river in the morning. They pointed out that just next to our campsite was a river access point. As they pulled their cars around to set up their camp, one guy just narrowly avoided sliding into a ditch and becoming stuck himself! The momentary look of panic on his face and spinning wheels made me smirk from irony as the rain started up again.
"So, I guess we have a new rule now. Always, always, always scout the site and wet dirt roads before pulling in, even if it looks okay at first glance."
"Maybe we could get a pulley rope too, something like that Newman guy had in Jurassic Park, haha."
"Yeah, and I wonder how useful CB radio would be out in these places that don't have signal?"
We pulled the car to a safe spot and settled in for a restful night, accompanied by the sounds of rain, distant thunder, rustling leaves, and the rushing river nearby, thankful for the kindness of strangers.
"So, I guess we have a new rule now. Always, always, always scout the site and wet dirt roads before pulling in, even if it looks okay at first glance."
"Maybe we could get a pulley rope too, something like that Newman guy had in Jurassic Park, haha."
"Yeah, and I wonder how useful CB radio would be out in these places that don't have signal?"
We pulled the car to a safe spot and settled in for a restful night, accompanied by the sounds of rain, distant thunder, rustling leaves, and the rushing river nearby, thankful for the kindness of strangers.