Elliott’s health is constantly changing. A few days of relative comfort often come to
an end with a surprise flash of pain.
He had some of those “down” days recently. Last Saturday, the pain seemed to come out of nowhere. By Tuesday, he was on the upward
trajectory, following another injection, this time into his sacro-iliac
joint. This meant that I was able
to leave, as planned, on my trip up to Mountain Mama in West Virginia on
Wednesday morning.
I love the drive heading west from Fairfax County, despite
the heavy traffic on Route 66. Not
far from home, the Blue Ridge Mountains appear in the distance. The landscape of the Shenandoah Valley becomes
hillier and more rural. There is
no very direct route from Fairfax to Davis, WV, where Eleanor’s house is
located. Along both sides of the
road, we looked out at wide expanses of farms with grazing cows. The hillsides were studded with trees
in a dazzling array of fall colors.
Soon we were driving up winding switchbacks, and our ears were popping
from the altitude. For mile after
mile, no towns were in sight. This
is still coal country. Nowadays,
most of the coal companies are engaged in strip mining, which involves leveling
mountaintops and results in a scarred landscape. After about 2 ½ hours on the road, we stopped for lunch in
Davis, a little town with a strip of shops along its single main road.
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| Mountain Mama, Eleanor's house in WV |
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| Another view of Mountain Mama |
Our last stop before reaching the house was at the spring, where we filled up plastic jugs with fresh, clear mountain water. Clouds were starting roll in when we pulled up the steep
unpaved road to Mountain Mama, Eleanor’s chalet in the woods. Although it was officially a girls’
getaway, Eleanor had brought along a token male – General Eisenhower. Ike, a four-pound, 13-week old bundle
of fluff, is a sheltie puppy. I’m
not a dog person, but I found him extremely adorable despite the fact that he
isn’t housebroken yet. (Don’t
worry, Elliott, I’m not going to rush out and get a puppy.)
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| Fresh clear water from the mountain |
After several hours in the car, I thought of going for a
walk, but the chilly temperatures and the overcast skies kept me inside. From inside the house as well as from
the deck, we had superb views of the vista stretching out in front of us. And the eagle’s nest, a cozy room
perched at the very top of a narrow spiral staircase, offered views in all four
directions. It could easily become
my hideout.
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| The view on an overcast afternoon |
As the afternoon wore on, the clouds thickened and we found
ourselves looking into a wall of gray.
Sharon sat and knitted.
Eleanor and I, using our limited camping knowledge, tried to build a
fire in the fireplace. Obviously,
neither one of us would survive in the wilderness. However, this was not a problem since the house had a
heating system.
I woke up the next morning to a wonderful surprise – a
pristine blue sky. As I sipped my
green tea, the sun was rising over the mountaintop, setting the trees
ablaze. I stepped out onto the
deck to a dazzling sight of shimmering amber, copper, crimson, and gold. By the time I finished breakfast,
full-throated sun was pouring through the windows. The rolling landscape had emerged from the night’s blanket
of shadows. Proud evergreens
crowned each wave of hills.
Temperatures were still hovering around the freezing mark, but I was
prepared with sweater, sweatshirt, jacket and scarf. Today nothing was going to keep me inside.
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| The view on a clear morning |
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| Along the main road |
Shortly after nine a.m., I ventured outside to explore. The wind stung my face, a feeling I
hadn’t experienced in several months.
But the steady sunshine kept me comfortable. From Mountain Mama, I walked down the mountain to the
main road. There were few cars,
but the ones that passed me were going at least 60 mph, which was a little
unnerving. Mostly, however, it was
still and quiet. The ground was
covered with fallen leaves, some still rimmed with frost, other sporting big,
fat glistening dew drops. The trek
back up to the house took about twice as long as the downhill walk, and I had
to stop a couple of times to catch my breath. All together, I must have walked for about an hour.
The rest of the day, until mid-afternoon, was one of those
lazy, do-nothing stretches of time.
Finally, around 3 p.m., the temperature had risen to about 50 degrees,
and Eleanor herded us into the car for a tour of the area. Canaan Valley, at an elevation of 3200
feet, is the highest valley east of the Mississippi River (thanks, Eleanor, for
that bit of information). We drove through the “town” of Canaan Valley in about
3 seconds. It’s even smaller than
Davis. Out in the middle of the
farmland, we stopped at Ben’s Barn, a sprawling weaving studio and shop. Mostly, we just enjoyed being outside
on this glorious fall day. The sky
remained a flawless blue, the air stayed crystal clear, and the hillsides
looked like they’d been liberally sprinkled with spices – chili powder, paprika,
and turmeric.
As gorgeous as the scenery was during the daytime, the most
spectacular sight was the sky at night.
I’ve lived most of my life in cities and suburbs, and I pride myself on
being able to pick out one or two of the better known constellations, such as
Orion. From the deck of Eleanor’s
house on top of the mountain, I was awestruck when I looked up into the densely
star-studded night sky. I could
easily understand how prehistoric people spun fantasies, stories and legends
when they gazed towards the heavens at night.
After we returned from dinner out that second night, we
tried again to build a fire in the fireplace. Failure again.
Note to self: must practice
this at home. I fell into bed
feeling tired but healthy. When
light came through the window, I awoke to find gentle ribbons of dawn stretched
over the mountaintops to the east.
After a quick breakfast, we bid farewell to Mountain Mama. Eleanor won’t return again until
springtime, when there’s no chance of encountering snow-covered roads.
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| Blackwater Falls |
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| Eleanor (with Ike) and Sharon |
All of us were ready for adventures on our way back
home. Our first stop on the
homebound journey was just a few minutes away at Blackwater Falls State Park, for a
view of the twin waterfalls. Next,
we stopped in Thomas, WV, an old lumber town on the banks of the Blackwater
River. We parked the car and
walked along the somewhat faded main street to browse in an antique store and a
shop featuring crafts by contemporary West Virginia artists. Back on the highway, we were once again
out in the wide open spaces. The
landscape had a barren feeling, and then the enormous equipment of a
coal-loading facility appeared, looking like a crazy Rube Goldberg contraption
on steroids. Then, once again,
there was emptiness until the steam from the Mt. Storm Power Station came into
view. Big thick puffs of white
chugged into the blue sky, then were carried sideways by the stiff winds. We drove up to the facility’s security
gate, hoping to get a tour of the power plant. Not available, we were told by the security guard, who
wouldn’t even allow us to take photos while we were on the property. However, we drove the other side of the
cooling lake and managed to get a few shots of the facility that supplies power
to much of northern Virginia. It
was also a good vantage point for viewing the three-armed windmills lined up on
the rise of the adjacent hills. Up
close, they’re much bigger than I ever imagined. Their towering size belies their grace when spinning.
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| Downtown Thomas, WV |
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| Mt. Storm Power Station |
As we made our slow descent down through the mountains,
there were fewer bare trees and more fall color in the foliage. The sloping hillsides were patchworks
of brilliant hues and richly textured greens. We stopped for a lunch break in Wardensville, WV, and found
that the temperature was noticeably warmer than at the higher elevations. By the way, I would not recommend West
Virginia as a destination for a food tour. Basic, solid country food is how I would describe what we
found (and we avoided chain restaurants).
One standout, however, was the pie at the restaurant in Wardensville –
homemade, apple and berry filling, not overly sweet, and with an oatmeal
crumble topping. I brought a piece
home for Elliott.
Elliott was excited to see me. In fact, just as I turned onto my street around 4 p.m., my
cell phone was ringing. It was
Elliott calling to ask when I’d be back.
He managed quite well in my absence and I want to thank my wonderful
neighbors for putting my mind at ease.
I know they are always willing to help, if necessary. This short trip away from home was very
restorative for me. It was just
long enough to push the daily concerns out of my mind. Equally important, it gave me the
opportunity to have meaningful conversations with women friends. And it’s a reminder that the whole
country doesn’t look like the suburbs of Washington, DC. I wouldn’t be tempted to have a second
home up in the mountains of West Virginia, but a simple little cabin about an
hour away, where there are hills and barns and bales of hay, wouldn’t be
bad.
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