The Highland Scenic Highway

The Highland Scenic Highway travels from U.S. Route 219 just north of Marlinton, West Virginia to Richwood, West Virginia in the southern part of the Monongahela National Forest. Along the 43-mile route are an array of scenic overlooks, trails, and natural wonders. The route represents one of the highest in West Virginia, ranging in altitude from 2,325 feet to over 4,500 feet. The altitude changes the entire climate and environment, yielding views and experiences unique from anything else in West Virginia and the entire region. In fact, if I did not know better, I would think I was back home in the Pacific Northwest.

It is widely believed that during the most recent ice age, while much of the continent was covered with ice, this part of the Appalachian Mountains was not. Consequently, it is also believed that the area the Highland Scenic Highway curves through reseeded North America as the ice receded. While I am not an expert in geology, it seems plausible given the diversity of flora in the area. Something simply feels special about being in this forest. Three of my favorite places along the Highland Scenic Highway are Honeycomb Rocks, Cranberry Glades Botanical Area, and Falls of Hills Creek.

Honeycomb Rocks

Honeycomb Rocks Trail is a short out-and-back trail that leads walkers past rocks with an incredible boxwork, or honeycomb, pattern caused by rock bending and folding. This folding and bending caused rocks to fracture, then water rich in iron made its way into the fractured rock, causing the rock along the fractures to harden into another type of stone, hematite.

Just one of many examples of the “honeycomb rocks”

Cranberry Glades Botanical Area

The Cranberry Glades Botanical Area protects the largest area of bogs in West Virginia. Bogs are more commonly found further north, not so much this far south. The spongy ground of a bog is largely made up of decaying plant matter and this foundation inspires a unique array of plants to grow, only starting with cranberries but also including carnivorous plants, like the pitcher plant. Navigation of this area is on a wooden boardwalk with interpretive signs to help guests identify the most unique parts of the bog. The wooden boardwalk can be uneven in areas and is quite slippery when wet, which was confirmed when a member of our group fell while taking in the sights.

The larger of the two primary bogs at the Cranberry Glades Botanical Area.

Falls of Hills Creek

The Falls of Hills Creek proves that the only thing better than one waterfall is, not one, but two more waterfalls! This trail requires hikers to navigate over 400 steps in about three-quarters of a mile. I was initially skeptical but by the time I made it to the lower falls, I was sold. The falls are progressively higher the further one hikes. The first falls is a modest 25 feet, the second is 45 feet, and the third is the second-highest in West Virginia at 63 feet high, with a stunning amphitheater behind it, covered in lichen in all shades from white to dark green. As Hills Creek continues down Droop Mountain it eventually travels underground into Sharps Cave where it has additional falls, one over 100 feet in height, making it higher than the official highest waterfall in West Virginia, which is Blackwater Falls, at 65 feet—only two feet higher than the Lower Falls at Falls of Hills Creek.

The Lower Falls of Hills Creek, West Virginia’s second highest waterfall at 63’.

I hope you have the opportunity to explore some of these amazing places in the Mountain State. The Highland Scenic Highway has plenty more to offer depending on your interests, but these three locations are fairly approachable for even fairly inexperienced Mountaineers. Plus, due to the higher elevations, it can be quite cold in the winter but the elevation makes these special places perfect to visit during the summer to escape the sweltering heat and humidity in the lower cities and towns in the region.

Walking Around Huntington

My husband and his family are from Huntington, West Virginia. The opioid crisis has marked the city, but it is truly the Jewel City on the Ohio. The city rests in the river valley along the Ohio, with nice long boulevards, perfect for cruising. The central downtown area features a reviving commercial district and the beautifully restored Keith-Albee Theater.

I took a walk along the Ritter Park Trail from Ritter Park to its terminus at Safety Town. While out walking I restocked the doggy bag holders and picked up three bags of trash—which I thought was pretty good given the recent wind storms.

Construction of the Memorial Arch occurred between 1924 and 1929 to honor the dead in WWI. For those familiar with history or France it might look somewhat familiar. The recent development of the Clio app (http://www.theclio.com) really brings it alive.

Huntington’s Parks and Recreation Department is excellent. As I walked along the 2-mile trail, most doggy bag stations had stock provided from the public and litter seemed scarce until I arrived at the end of the trail. As I said, a Jewel City.

At one point, a CSX train heading downtown passed alongside the trail. While it thrilled me, I figured it probably drove all of the kids walking the trail nuts. Any motivation necessary to take a walk, right?

At the very end of the trail is the joy of many elementary and middle school students in Huntington, Safety Town! Safety Town teaches fundamentals of civic administration, safe driving, and safe behavior around cars and trains. A sign inside the fence reads “The Safest Town in West Virginia.”

A Long Way to the Secret Sandwich Society

A few weeks back Chris and I heard that a new 101 Unique Places to Dine in West Virginia list had been created. Inspired to try every restaurant on the list (or at least the ones we don’t already frequent) we decided we would go to Fayetteville on the first tolerable Saturday. Winter this year has been most merciful so we did not have to wait long until we packed ourselves into Chris’s Miata and headed south!

Before going to one of the state’s most unique eateries, we decided we should first work up an appetite. I proposed making the hike out to Long Point. The hike is 1.6 miles of everything that is right and splendid about the Mountain State. The hike is fairly gentle, with only the final hundred yards or so providing much of a challenge (in the summer one could probably floss pretty well on the tunnels of rhododendron).

The view of the New River Gorge Bridge from Long Point, and two nerds

The view is spectacular. It is the absolute best view of the New River Gorge Bridge as the point is about even with the center of the bridge. You also have the benefit of being closer to the altitude of the bridge deck than you do if you brave Fayette Station Road to admire the bridge from the bottom of the gorge. Chris and I were not the only ones who found the view spectacular. As we carefully stepped out onto the rocky ledge we found two people preparing part of the area for a marriage proposal. Two people may have been thinking about the next phase of their life, but Chris and I were now firmly fixed on the food.

Secret Sandwich Society is only a few years old but has already taken a legendary place on the West Virginia dining scene. Located on the edge of Fayetteville’s funky downtown district (voted one of the Coolest Small Towns in America by readers of Budget Travel Magazine in 2006), Secret Sandwich Society is located in a deceptively large building. When you realize you have to descend a flight of stairs to get to the dining area you realize it isn’t very large, especially compared to the demand! Trust me, when you’re waiting an hour for a table at 2:30pm on a Saturday, you want any excuse to feel like you’re making a good decision.

The restaurant did not disappoint! Their selection of Hansen’s sodas was a fun departure from the usual fountain offerings. We kicked off our meal with the Society Fries. I couldn’t tell you how they season them, but I know I want to eat more of them. Their burgers sounded delicious, but when a food item is in the name of a restaurant it seems wise to try that item. I ordered a Washington (ham, white cheddar, green apple, rosemary majo, and greens on a toasted baguette), while Chris tried the McKinley (spiced homemade meatloaf, chipotle-bacon jam, 1000 island dressing, and crispy onions on toasted sourdough). Both sandwiches were unique flavor combinations. The McKinley left a zesty after taste, while the green apple on the Washington seemed to amplify the flavors of the ham and cheese with a kiss of bittersweet in the finish.

If I had the day to do over again, I would’ve ordered lunch to go and either driven to the Canyon Rim Visitor’s Center (just across the bridge), down to the bottom of the Gorge via Fayette Station Road (15-20 mins), or to the ghost town of Thurmond (30 mins) and enjoyed my meal as a picnic. There is a wonderful view of the New River Gorge Bridge from the Visitor’s Center. At the bottom of the gorge there are enormous boulders along the shore that make for great picnicking (and you can watch the rafters!). Thurmond is a fantastic spot to watch trains on the CSX mainline from the safety of the platform of the train station and, after eating, you could explore the well-preserved ghost town!

After filling up, we made the short drive to Ansted, WV on the Midland Trail. The Hawks Nest Rail Trail is a 1.8 mile rail trail linking Ansted with Hawks Nest State Park. Descending down to the trailhead in Ansted seems a little unusual, but once you see two small, old, railroad-looking buildings you’re pretty sure you’re in the right place. Things seem more and more right as you head away from town on a grassy right-of-way, but when you see a sweeping, curved trestle you know you’ve arrived. Abandoned by Sherman Cahal has a really nice write-up and photo-essay of this rail trail. We walked about half of this trail to find one of the Coal Heritage geocaches. The Coal Heritage Trail is another way to interact with West Virginia’s best known history.

Over 12,000 steps later, it was time to go home. I even managed to nap in the passenger seat of the Miata. Yet to be determined, which restaurant is next?

Top 10 of 2013: One Thousand Steps

Number 5: Thousand Steps Cache
Brady Township (Huntingdon County), PA
233 Favorite Points 

For those willing to pay $30/year for a premium membership on the Geocaching.com website, it’s possible to run queries on geocaches. This is a really popular way for geocachers to maintain lists of nearby geocaches that fit the characteristics of those they like to find. This geocache (along with a few others it had inspired nearby) had been sitting on the very edge of my State College query the entire time I had lived in State College. On a cold March day, we decided to take it on.

Truthfully, we had a million reasons to back out—mostly weather related. But we stuck to our guns. Now, 1000 steps may not sound that bad to anyone in at least average fitness. But I must point out, these are not perfectly measured and formed stairs like you’d find in an office or apartment building. The steps are made out of rock found nearby and can be anywhere from 3-4” in height to about 18” high. You can’t get into a good rhythm going up or down them because each is a little different. What is a godsend is that about every 75-100 steps, there are level areas where you have to walk a hundred or so feet over to get to where the steps continue.

These steps exist because this area was mined heavily in a not-too-distant past life and these steps were the mode of commuting for the miners (I bet they all had nice legs and firm bottoms!).

The first half of the steps weren’t so bad, we even encountered two other hikers who were already on their way down. But after we cracked 500, the fatigue really set in. To complicate matters, at about 750 it started to snow. But we persevered, pausing to take in the stunning beauty and views the hike provided us with when we believed we were out of breath or our legs would not carry us one more step.

Immensely enjoying step #500

We got to step 1000 (every 100 steps is marked with what hundred it is) to discover that “1000” is really just rounding, there are actually 1,043 steps on the main trail to get to the top. But then, to get to the vista where this geocache was placed, there’s another 50-75 steps further down the trail from the top. Mercifully, by the time we made it to the top of the 1,043 steps, our legs were numb to the pain and despite the snow we were anything but cold. Frankly, I’d suggest doing this hike in colder conditions. It’d be a lot more comfortable than doing it on a warmer day (such as was the very gross and sweaty hike up Mt. Nittany).

There are actually several geocaches at the top, and each has a very high terrain rating (it is something of a badge of honor in the geocaching community to rack up lots of very high terrain rated geocaches). We eagerly tackled many of them, though we left some to be found on a future visit. But we couldn’t leave without this one: this was the oldest one on the trail and the one that clearly captured everyone’s hearts.

The descent was more difficult, though faster, than the ascent. As our jellied legs threatened to betray us, Chris and I managed to get into my car and drive the five or so miles to the Sheetz in Huntingdon. In celebration, we treated ourselves to the best prime rib in central Pennsylvania, the Whistle Stop, that evening.

Heading down the steps

This is the third most favorited geocache in Pennsylvania.

An Eightwednesday Easter

I often write possible entries to this blog on paper when the mood strikes or I’m on the go. The majority of these entries are posted in a timely manner. But, while organizing my notes with the close of the Spring 2012 semester, I discovered one that slipped through the cracks. Despite its ties to a specific holiday, I still like the story. So let’s go back to the cool, early spring weather and celebrate an Eightwednesday Easter.

On Easter morning proclamations of “he is risen” were impossible to avoid on Facebook. It seems like not even at Christmas are posts praising Jesus so prevalent. But rather than take my own faith to Facebook, Chris and I elected to experience the holy day in nature’s church. We were going to hike up a mountain.

Shingletown is a short drive from my home in Pennsylvania. At best, it’s a speck or blink of the eye along Pennsylvania State Route 45 between the slightly larger communities of Boalsburg and Pine Grove Mills in Centre County. It rests at the foot of a broad ridge, Tussey Mountain, where the Happy Valley sweeps open. A turn onto the aptly titled Mountain Road travels past homes and farms before ending at the Shingletown Reservoir and Shingletown Gap. From here, it’s all uphill!

The reservoir in Shingletown is interesting, it still dutifully serves its purpose, but the stone-lined spillways give away its true age. People have been living here for a long time. Before even beginning the hike we had to investigate. Naturally, the creek feeding the reservoir also proved to be the first challenge. In order to cross the creek we carefully tiptoed over a jam of tree limbs into the arms of a rhododendron patch.

Brushing off the remnants of the rhododendron upward we went, chasing blue blazes along a water carved creek. The forest reminded us both of those at higher elevations in the southwest. At the first plateau we found firepits and evidence of how others elect to enjoy the land, not necessarily making stewardship a priority.

On the hike up, between fits of breathlessness (I’m not in as good a shape as I should be!), we recognized the value and significance of the day. We discussed religion in depth and from perspectives of individual experience, cultural expectations, and even scientifically. We asked questions and considered faith collaboratively. We contemplated those same things others were while they were simultaneously seated in pews.

We approached a fork in the trail. The only hint on the correct direction was the GPS, indicating the distance to and direction of our target, neither of which was helpful at this point. Decision points like this in the woods are what make me feel most human and free. Wayfinding, of course, is a fundamental component of transportation, both in terms of user behavior and facility design.

Our choice quickly took us up from the plateau to the top of the ridge. The last 40’ offered sweeping views of the Happy Valley. A short search yielded a geocache find while we felt both immeasurably large and miniscule. No one from below would notice us up there, but we could see everything for miles and miles. We breathed in the cool air of success.

Before we knew it, we were looking at the creek. Only a few hundred feet from the car! We elected to take off our shoes and go barefoot. Chris passed successfully and then I took my turn. Three quarters across the frigid water, I slipped. The dry shoes in my hand splashed into the creek. I suddenly realized exactly how cold my feet were. At this point, on my hands and knees in the creek, I look to my left and realized it was all unnecessary. A large tree had fallen across the creek and fashioned to act as a bridge.

Not sure I would’ve received such a cold lesson in humility if I’d just gone to church. Even so, best Easter ever.