The Three Economic Lives of Hancock County

At the very tippy-top of West Virginia’s Northern Panhandle is Hancock County. While many think of West Virginia as the transition area between the cultural north and south in the United States, Hancock County reaches further north than Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and Columbus, Ohio. With that in mind, the history of the region has much less to do with coal and much more to do with industrial manufacturing, especially steel. Dedicated to preserving the history and culture of this part of West Virginia is the Weirton Area Museum and Cultural Center, which features an array of exhibits detailing the history of the region and ongoing events that bring visitors closer to the unique history and culture of this region. In support of the museum and cultural center’s mission, Dr. Lou Martin, Associate Professor of History at nearby Chatham University, presented Hancock County: From Pre-Industrial to Post Industrial on February 20, 2022 to an audience of folks invested in the history and future of the Northern Panhandle.

Lou Martin is a steady voice for West Virginia’s industrial and labor history. In addition to his role at Chatham University, he is also a founding board member of the West Virginia Mine Wars Museum in Matewan, which is about as far as you can get from Hancock County without entering Kentucky. Lou is also the author of Smokestacks in the Hills: Rural-Industrial Workers in West Virginia, which highlights the unique combination of industrialization and the preservation of rural habits and culture in areas like Hancock County.

His lecture on February 20 spanned the commercial and industrial history of the region from the late 1700s to the present, detailing the transition from an agriculturally driven economy to one firmly rooted in producing pottery and steel and finally on to the present, post-industrial era brought on by the proliferation of neoliberalism in state and federal government. As emphasized in the talk, neoliberalism has less to do with “liberals” and more to do with market-oriented reform policies like deregulation, incentivizing free trade, and privatization. Indeed, one of the strongest proponents of neoliberal trade policies is Ronald Reagan. That there should very clearly communicate the relationship between neoliberal trade policies to “the liberals.” Indeed, no one person or company is responsible for the shuttering of factories and mills, but rather it comes a consequence of a shift in global economic policy. Of course, it can be frustrating and confusing when major economic shifts occur and there is no one, clear individual or entity to blame.

Lou Martin, Ph.D. discussing the development of the potteries of the East Liverpool region, which includes Hancock County and Weirton.

Both Morgantown, West Virginia and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania are examples of thriving communities with knowledge-based economies emerging after the fall of heavy industry. The term “meds and eds” is commonly applied to Pittsburgh, which has doubled-down on world-class institutions of higher education and medical facilities over the past five decades to great success. Within West Virginia, Morgantown is home to the largest institution of higher education in the state, West Virginia University. Each year more and more people flock to Morgantown to start careers at West Virginia University, WVU Medicine, and an increasing number of professional services and tech companies founded or branching out into the state to take advantage of the growing brain trust in the area. I relate strongly to this because, well, I am part of that movement!

The talk revealed that opportunities can spring up anywhere and that there are individuals and organizations interested in helping preserve and develop communities like Weirton. However, it can be difficult to connect communities in need with the resources available. Groups and individuals often do not know what they do not know.

With so much food-for-thought, it seemed like it was time for actual food. On the recommendation of West Virginia food blogger (and Northern Panhandle native), Candace Nelson, I stopped at Drover’s Inn to try out their legendary wings. Not your typical wing joint, Drover’s dates back to 1848 as a tavern and inn on the Washington Pike a few miles east of central Wellsburg, West Virginia. Each dining room (and the tavern) maintains the character of a bygone era and features extensive collections of local artifacts with an emphasis on glass produced in the area. Indeed, staff even urge guests to walk around and take in the accumulated history of hospitality.

The Bituminous Coal Heritage Foundation Museum

Coal was first discovered in Appalachia in what is now Boone County, West Virginia in 1742. Since that time, men have gone deep into (or, in more recent years, blown the tops off) mountains in pursuit of this dark matter. To recognize the legacy of coal in Boone County and West Virginia, the Bituminous Coal Heritage Museum was established and opened to the public in the mid-1990s, chock full of memorabilia, historical information, and interactive exhibits.

The Museum is on Main Street in Madison, the seat of Boone County. The entrance to the museum is unassuming and, at first, especially as this once-bustling main drag through downtown is a bit sleepier than it probably was 50 years ago. However, once you enter, it is not unlike mining itself, as there are treasures that tell the stories of the thousands of men (and a few women) who went underground to power a nation. In some spots, the sheer amount of stuff can feel overwhelming, but to take a few minutes to take it in and the story unfolds before your eyes.

Very unexpected from a small museum like this was all of the interactive exhibits. One interactive exhibit takes guests into the darkness of a mine and guests can actually handle the same type of equipment that used to mine coal before the era of the continuous miner (though they have one of those, too!). Another interactive exhibit allows guests to step into the locker rooms where miners would put their clothes in a basket and raise it up to the ceiling to keep their street clothes relatively clean as they donned their overalls.

Also somewhat unexpected is that, despite how quiet Madison feels today, in the United States, West Virginia is only second to Wyoming in terms of production of coal. Side note, I think that is interesting (or coincidental?) because there is a Wyoming County, West Virginia, also in the Southern Coalfields region. Automation in the coalmines means that production is up but employment in the mines is down. Therefore, while these areas are still quite productive in terms of coal output, they do not require the manpower of mines 100 or even only 50 years ago. Mountaintop removal mining requires even fewer men (at the expense of West Virginia’s stunning mountains).

What I think I liked most is that the Bituminous Coal Heritage Foundation Museum tells the human story of mining. The exhibits do not exalt Frances Peabody, Don Blankenship, or Robert E. Murray. Comparatively, it is easy to run the company, but underground danger and even death are omnipresent. It takes a special kind of person (or, some would argue, desperation) to spend your days in a mountain. Now, excuse me, I think I need to watch Harlan County, U.S.A. again.

The Museum is located at 347 Main Street in Madison, WV. The Museum is open from 12:00pm to 5:00pm on Monday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. And, while you’re there, stroll around Main Street a bit and check out some of the small businesses.

 

Best of 2014: A house on a hilltop

GC1H9T3 – A house on a hilltop
Hidden by GR8Caches
198 Favorite Points
Found on November 8, 2014

Harper’s Ferry is unique among places in West Virginia. Like nearby Shepherdstown, it feels very much like it does not belong in West Virginia. Culturally it is very distinct from the rest of the state. I am not sure that was always the case, given the sentiments that led to the creation of West Virginia during the Civil War, but I think geography has had a cumulative effect. What may have been less significant differences in the past are magnified now due to the varying effects time has had on the different geographies. Jefferson County, and even Berkeley and Morgan counties are geographically remote from the rest of the state. The years have been kinder to the Eastern Panhandle than the Southern Coalfields, though sometimes the strangest things can link different places together in our memories. 

The geocache itself is simple, it is an ammocan chained to a base (so it will not grow legs and wander off!) tucked between a bench and a tree. It is easy to be so explicit when the cache description is equally explicit. The point of this cache isn’t the container. The point of this cache is… well, I guess it is supposed to be the view but I was at least equally intrigued by the hulking dilapidated structure next to it.

The cache overlooks the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers. It is a far less strenuous approach to a similar view that can be achieved after a difficult hike that is not always open and accessible on the Maryland side of the Potomac (when we visited, some locals said that the area had been closed off to let nature have some time to recover from a heavy trampling from a heavy tourism season). The view is stunning. The hydrology is impressive. The generations of bridges and their remnants over each river enough to make the hearts of any engineer pound with passionate delight. It is no wonder these rivers have inspired songs for hundreds of years, including West Virginia fan favorite, Take Me Home, Country Roads.

The Potomac and Shenandoah rivers at Harpers Ferry

But once you catch your breath from the view in front of you, there is the mysterious case of the dilapidated building behind you. We were lucky enough on the day we visited to have some locals show up at about the same time, and they were able to at least give some basic information. This enormous building is the Hilltop House (a better and more eloquent history is here) and it was occupied until about 2008. It has deteriorated substantially since then, with clear and substantial damage to the roof and internal and external vandalism (including arson). Locals desire to return the building to its former use, but I fear it is too far gone.

The dilapidated Hilltop House

The Hilltop House was established in 1888 by an African American entrepreneur, Thomas Lovett. The current structure is the third Hilltop House, built after the second one burned down in 1919. Though the structure is one of the remnants of a significant history in Harpers Ferry for the empowerment of African Americans, it was home to Storer College, a historically black college dedicated to educating African American teachers and leaders—of which it graduated many.

Of all of the geocaches found in 2014, this may win for most interesting and unique structure. It was also somewhat unexpected. It took me back to an experience I had four years earlier when I visited Logan in the Southern Coalfields to see the ruins of the historic Aracoma Hotel after much of that structure had entirely collapsed as a result of an extensive fire.

King Coal’s Deception

After exploring Matewan in depth, it was time to start the trip home. One great effort to improve connectivity of the southern coalfields to the rest of the state is the King Coal Highway, which is even eventually supposed to be part of I-73/74. Long story short: it appears to be little more than an ill-conceived fantasy.

We climbed out of Matewan on a ramp with a 10-percent grade that, due to the profile of the rock, was shaded at the time and would be shaded most of the time. Imagining school buses and trucks attempting to navigate this access road during the winter months was chilling. As we turned onto the main road we were greeted with a road only about five years old suffering some severe problems.

Concrete roads, when constructed correctly, should have no challenge lasting 20 years in drivable condition. Here, we could already see and feel signs of the failure of the concrete base, likely due to improper preparation of the land below the road. The odds of this being the case are compounded when it is revealed that the Mingo Central High School, the brand new consolidated high school, is having serious problems with land slipping problems. I wish I could act surprised by these circumstances, but this is largely business as usual in West Virginia. But it is disappointing that the citizens of this disadvantaged area were made some grand promises and less than five years out these promises are already clearly being broken.

Likewise, the road was never even built to interstate standards. For the most part, it is a two-lane undivided highway or a four-lane road with a grassy median. There are numerous at-grade intersections and driveways turning out onto the roadway. If this road were to be designated as an Interstate Highway, it would have to be upgraded substantially.

The singular circumstance where the new road truly is a godsend and an improvement over the prior route is over Horsepen Mountain. I once had the experience of navigating over Horsepen Mountain on U.S. Route 52 at night. It ranks highly on my list of terrifying driving experiences. I will take poor physical road condition over those geometrics any day of the week.

We traveled WV Route 44 into Logan and then WV Route 17 toward Charleston, going over Blair Mountain. The Battle of Blair Mountain was one of the largest civil uprisings in American history and it was spurred by the desire to end the exploitation of coal miners and unionize. In recent years, the state has tried valiantly to erase this historical site by turning it over for mountain top removal, yet even on a drive through you can feel that there was something very important that occurred here. Coal is finite, history is not. There are many other mountains in West Virginia, there is only on Blair Mountain.

The other notable aspect about this route is that its curves and dips were the main route between Charleston and Williamson until the mid-to-late 1970s. While Williamson may not seem like a major center to connect to today, it was much larger 40 years ago and had a much larger role in the economy of West Virginia. This illustrates how in some ways, Appalachia has only very recently connected to be able to come of age.

In Danville we picked up the thoroughly modern Corridor G, which took us all of the way to Quaker Steak. Hooray! After a hot day of caching and, in my case, getting eaten up by mosquitoes, I needed some calories. We got our fill and hit the road, well, after making one more stop. Kroger recently did a major renovation to the Ashton Place Kroger and made it even fancier. It was indeed true. There is no competition, this is the fanciest grocery store in all of West Virginia.

Matewan: Replica vs. Authenticity

Williamson is the center of commerce and medicine in the area, but Matewan is probably the center of culture, at least as of late due to the efforts of locals and historians. Matewan is perhaps best known for the massacre bearing its name, which occurred over the right to unionize the mines. Reenactments of the massacre are now actually relatively common occurrences because it is an important chapter in local as well as labor history. Furthermore, efforts have also been focused on developing the rail history in the town into something tangible as well as the development of the town as a service hub as a trailhead for the Hatfield-McCoy Trails.

Our first stop was the old Magnolia High School on the edge of town. It, like Williamson High School, was consolidated into Mingo Central, which is up isolated atop a ridge along a relatively new highway. Though Magnolia seemed much newer than Williamson High School, it seemed sort of ridiculous to close such a seemingly new school. Part of me wondered why the other schools could not be consolidated into this facility. Though, to be fair, the concrete floodwall built around the structure was a little weird—though it had some interesting friezes on it.

Then, into town we visited the Matewan depot replica. They did a masterful job with the replica, unless you knew for a fact it was a replica, you’d never guess. The materials all look to be the right age and the details are all there. Inside the depot is a small gift shop and great railroad-related exhibits. I most enjoyed the artifacts from the Norfolk and Western, but there were some impressive old prints and dioramas as well. I frequently imagine that if I were alive 100 years ago in a coal town like Matewan, because I’m a woman, perhaps working in the station is one of the few jobs (besides nurse or teacher) they might’ve let me have.

Outside the replica depot is an old caboose. Cabooses tend to attract geocaches and this one was no different, but the gentleman working inside the replica depot saw us poking around the caboose and offered to show us the inside of it. We figured it had to have been one of the last cabooses in use because it seemed to have some more modern touches, though we were surprised by the lack of privacy offered by the toilet.

As we concluded the tour of the caboose, we could hear the whistle of a train. The three of us started across the parking lot to get a good view and to see if we could get just the slightest feeling of how it must’ve felt, again, a century or so ago.

Chris waving at the freight train rolling through Matewan

Mysteries of Williamson

Deep into the coalfields, we first head for South Williamson, where a strip of run-down retail and fast-food joints on par with any aging suburb await. The Wendy’s is usually a solid choice and, given how busy it was, we clearly weren’t the only ones who felt that way.

The Coalfields have been a source of regional turmoil forever. Recently, it has been this resurgence in nostalgia over coal mining jobs versus the fact the land just doesn’t have much more to give and increasingly tough environmental regulations and, yes, competition. But this is land that has seen bloodshed over all sorts of things, most notably the right to organize labor at the Hatfield and McCoy Feud (which is now a tourism thing).

At any rate, it is an interesting place culturally because it has always been a region of misfits, and there is a lot of literature about that and there is a lot of music about the more fit members of this society leaving for more industrial jobs in the big, urban centers of the north from the 1930s through the 1970s (Dwight Yoakam’s Readin’, Rightin’, Route 23 comes to my mind first). I like reading about it, I recently finished reading Kathleen Stewart’s A Space on the Side of the Road, which covers her experience with the dialects a few counties over in area like Odd, Rhodell, and Winding Gulf (it’s jargon-heavy, but gives a very good sense of how it is truly an “other” America).

After lunch, we turned back around and found ourselves in the middle of a street festival closing off all the streets in downtown Williamson. Everyone was out, and we skirted around the periphery toward the old high school because wanted to check the Hatfield-McCoy House, a bed and breakfast run by a fellow geocacher to serve the newly developing tourism trade in Mingo County. But once we stopped, there were so many things to stop and look at.

The first thing that caught our eye was the old high school. With a dwindling population, many of the county school districts in West Virginia have taken to consolidating their schools, Mingo is no exception. So while the old Williamson High School, which closed in June 2011, was surrounded by a high density of homes (something we would call excellent planning and walkability), the new consolidated high school is the only thing out on a deserted ridge on a brand new highway that’s already beginning to fail… but I’ll get to that later. In the place of the old high school is a Christian academy. Though despite being closed for three years, we found artifacts from and evidence of the building’s prior life visible from the perimeter of the school yard.

The front entrance of Williamson High School, closed June 2011

From here, we also spotted a pair of grand, but abandoned, old buildings overlooking the town from atop a hill. We took some guesses as to what they were. Hotel? Boarding house? School (because the high school in front of us probably wasn’t the original Williamson High School!)? Hospital? After driving around and noticing the hospital nearby, we kind of figured hospital and nursing school, and were able to confirm this suspicion after locating the application for admitting the Williamson Historical District to the National Register of Historic Places and finding older photographs of these buildings in a slightly better condition. The disappointing news is that at the time of application, numerous dwellings were already abandoned and it is clear that the down is emptying out.

The yellowish building on the left is the former nursing school/nurse's home the the building on the right is the former hospital and, until very recently, was a professional building with physician's offices in it

It is clear that Williamson and South Williamson are the major service hubs for the region, given the presence of major chain retail and restaurants, in addition to a community hospital (with a helipad area in the parking lot!), but the empire is crumbling. Buildings large and small, historic and recent are being left fallow for nature to reclaim and there is nothing to intervene. Williamson may never complete evaporate like some of the smaller communities in regions like the New River Gorge, but may find that it is shrinking.

We carried on toward Matewan, seeking geocaching in the mosquito-heavy, seemingly tropical hot weather. En route we discovered remnants of old curves that the DOT straightened out, cemeteries so old they lacked real roads to get up to the burial plots (even though they had some recent burials!), and even a pair of railroad tunnels.

NoVA’s Most Wanted Geocaches

After our trip to the DC area got off to a rough start due to problems on the Red Line (and everyone who has ever lived in DC has just shook their heads in agreement), we returned to Reston and gathered our bearings. Instead of the virtual geocache crawl we had planned for the District of Columbia, over a comforting bowl of pho, we crafted a new plan: to “free cache” the best caches in Northern Virginia, in the area we were in. Spoiler: I think it turned out better this way, anyway.

To alleviate the frustrations our first stop was to chow down. We found a non-described pho place near the Metro station. Chris had never tried pho and I had never met a bowl of pho that I didn’t like so we took this perfect opportunity to try it out. Besides, you can’t get pho in Morgantown. Things like this are exactly why we love to visit “the big city.” The restaurant was quiet and the staff was attentive, it was the respite needed after the frazzling experience of Metro. After our bellies were full we started hopping between the nearest highly rated caches.

Despite our new outlook on the day, we didn’t get off to a great start. Mart of Many Nations managed to stump us. We’re normally old pros at parking lot geocaches but from the previous logs we thought we might be in for a little more of a challenge. So if you’ve found this one before, hints are appreciated. Normally failing to find the first cache of the day is a bad omen, but we decided to try a second.

There seem to be some standard “unique” caches, these are caches that you’ll maybe find one of in a region, but if you’ve cached in multiple regions you’ll see them again. This was the case 2 foot cache, we had seen one just like it in Airway Heights, Washington. But given that I was going to very crankily give up caching for the day otherwise, it was a happy and comforting find in front of the Home Depot. I love it when cache owners go to such great lengths to repurpose basic items as geocaches.

Next, we headed out the Manassas National Battlefield to “Rally behind the Virginians.” Firstly, we’re used to the Civil War sites in West Virginia, which are very often very close to as they were during the conflict. In fact, one site, Camp Allegheny is truly so close to how it was that it is difficult to reach by passenger car (you need the ground clearance!) and there was staunch opposition when a wind power generation facility was to be put up within the view-shed. Other sites, like Laurel Mountain (site of the Battle of Laurel Hill) and Cheat Summit Fort retain most of their Civil War-era characteristics with only a few suggestions of modern times here and there. But in Manassas, there are piles of non-descript homes and businesses that really encroach into the area of the battlefield. It’s a very different feeling than you get when you visit the sites in West Virginia. Though there is no question, if you visit Manassas, that Stonewall Jackson was ripped. That is not something you get a sense of when you visit his boyhood home, in what is new Lewis County, West Virginia.

Stonewall Jackson riding on at the Manassas National Battlefield Park

Very close to Manassas we also found The Iron Goose. Compared to the rippling muscles of Stonewall Jackson and the fact we had found a very similar, though now archived, cache in Huntington, West Virginia this sneaky find didn’t really seem terribly remarkable. But when you’re seeking out the very best, it’s all shades of awesome.

We went driving around to seek out the next cache, a virtual cache at a modest memorial to those who lost their lives in 911, 911 Memorial. It’d been threatening to rain most of the day. We thought we would be able to avoid it, but as we pulled up the memorial to log the cache and pay our respect the rain came pouring down. It added some interesting perspective to the location and, once dried off, was almost appreciated. This cache truly provided us with a five-sense experience.

A five-sense experience at this somber 911 Memorial

The final find of the day, also in the rain, was one of the cornerstones of the District of Columbia. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting to find the DC Cornerstone this in a sleepy neighborhood a few blocks away from the old downtown of Falls Church, Virginia. Originally, the District of Columbia was a ten-mile by ten-mile allocation that looks like a cube tipped on one point, incorporating lands belonging both to Maryland and Virginia. However, during the Civil War, Virginia took its part of the DC allocation back and it is now Arlington.

We logged five finds, which is pretty good given the quality of the geocaches and the delay in getting to the geocaching part of the day. Northern Virginia is a wonderful place that has a unique combination of fascinating history, delicious restaurants, and just enough southern hospitality that you know you’re not in Maryland anymore. We look forward, as always, to our next trip!

Free Caching WV's Northern Panhandle

We had celebrated the birth of a nation by visiting three of the finest caches in the southwestern part of state that was the site of America’s formation (Pennsylvania!) and then dining with one of our many families. After a pleasant night at the DoubleTree near the Pittsburgh Airport (though surprisingly dirty: lots of other people’s hair all over the pool area and unknown substance on the toilet seat in the room), we regrouped and decided to change our caching strategy.

We had been seeking caches in the top 100 by favorite points within 200 miles of Morgantown, WV (caveat, our laziness put a hard, and very low limit, on the terrain we were willing to tolerate). We decided on the next day, July 5, to start with one of these caches but then “free cache” on the Northern Panhandle until, basically, we got hungry enough to head down to our favorite DiCarlo’s Pizza location (downtown Wheeling! …though I’ve been told it’s worth defecting to the Glen Dale location).

Our first stop of the day, a cache at the World's Largest Teapot

To us, free caching is when you don’t have a specific aim or theme in mind. For us, we merely applied our maximum desired terrain rating and bounced from cache to cache all over Brooke, Hancock, and Ohio counties. Because we don’t routinely cache there, there were many to choose from and selecting a specific terrain rating was helpful as to not completely overwhelm us. Plus, even when free caching, it can just get obnoxious to drive in half-mile increments.

For our efforts, we found 13 geocaches and discovered two things we found to be particularly interesting.

The Margaret Manson Weir Memorial Pool in Marland Heights Park was a pleasant surprise after picking up a seemingly average guardrail cache in a seemingly average neighborhood. It was recently listed on Preserve WV’s most endangered list for this year, which is how I knew about it. But the pool, opened in 1934, has a unique architectural charm lacking in so many structures today that are focused on function before form (which is a noble goal, but I can’t imagine my local pool in Morgantown being something I or anyone else will care about in 80 years). And, truthfully, West Virginia just doesn’t have a lot of art deco structures. This isn’t Miami Beach, where even the Burger King is authentically art deco.

The other interesting then we discovered are the old bridges over Buffalo Creek on the road to Bethany College (another gorgeous side trip!) from Wellsburg. While after finding only one of these caches we were frustrated over the placement of another (if I have to drive 6 feet into overgrowth on a day that feels very snaky, it’s not a terrain level 1!). We love looking at old infrastructure, even if it is of the old, worn out, and purely utilitarian sort (maybe I will still be interested in the Marilla Park pool in 80 years…).While heading back towards West Virginia State Route 2 we also discovered that when the road along Buffalo Creek, the Bethany Turnpike, was first cut through it actually had two tunnels, the first highway tunnels west of the Alleghenies, to get through the rough terrain, though my husband was crestfallen to discover that the tunnels are long gone (but their locations are identified on this old map).

So even seeking out the less exciting or highly rated caches in an area has rewards. Or maybe it is just our undying love of infrastructure.

Fourth of July, Family, and Friends

The beginning of July marks a lot of important things in my life. July 1 and July 4 each memorialize the founding of the two countries I proudly call my home (Canada and the United States, respectively). July 3 is my wedding anniversary. July 6 is my mother’s birthday. The latter is difficult to celebrate due to 2700 intervening miles, but it is still worth noting. Because of the first two items mentioned, it also guarantees at least one long weekend. So on July 4^th, we hit the road. We decided to be spontaneous and follow our geocaching Most Wanted list. We identified the nearest cache to us and made that our starting point.

The first stop of the day would be Caterpillar Tracks near Stoystown, PA. This is a tank cache. Tank caches can be some of the trickiest to find because there are seemingly infinite places to hide a geocache. Furthermore, lots of people who place tank caches love placing nanos or micros. Unfortunately, there’s no sure-fire way to make finding a tank cache easy, but reading the description, hint, and past logs carefully can help. In the case of this specific tank cache, the key was to note the size of the container. Once I realized that it was a regular sized cache, I could rule out a lot of places (yay, wouldn’t have to stick my hand some place too gross!). But the lawn of an American Legion is a very appropriate place to be on July 4^th and we took in all of the military equipment they had outside for the public to look at. But, for what it’s worth, the most challenging tank cache I have ever encountered is on the grounds of the Pennsylvania Military Museum in Boalsburg, PA: Tanks Again.

Hey, look out behind you!

From Stoystown, I really was unsure if following from nearest cache to nearest cache on the list would shoot me toward Breezewood, PA or back west. To our surprise, it pointed us toward Ford City, north of Pittsburgh on the Allegheny River. This cache, generically titled Not another one-n-a-half, one-n-a-half, was not only a unique cache, but had a difficulty and terrain combination we had not yet found (difficulty of 4.5 out of 5 and terrain of 1 out of 5). A common challenge in the geocaching community is to find all 81 difficulty and terrain combinations. I’m not aggressively working on it, but I would eventually like to get there. Though the odds are pretty good it’ll take years to clear out all of the terrain level 5 difficulty combinations. That’s not how I like to play, though others love doing those ones almost exclusively.

Getting a better sense of the trajectory we would take, I called up my best friend from college, Jenn. To let her know we were on our way to Harmony and Zelienople, which wasn’t really all that far from her parent’s home in Beaver County, PA. She invited us to her parent’s house to celebrate the 4^th, just to let them know when we had a more solid idea of when we would arrive. 

From Ford City, we drove the scenic back roads to Harmony. Harmony is where the Harmony Society, a religious order that escaped persecution from the Lutherans in Germany first established themselves in the United States. One of the remaining historical sites related to their lives in Harmony, which is now little more than a quiet exit off of I-79, is the cemetery. Their cemetery is unique. There are no headstones. The cemetery is just a rectangle of land with a perimeter marked by a thick stone wall. Entry to the cemetery is through a heavy stone door beneath an arch. When we arrived we thought about entering, but standing at the entrance and peering through the entrance, we felt like we ought to let the spirits rest. Like the name of the geocache that brought us here, don’t wake the dead.

Gateway into the Harmony Society cemetery

We love the small towns in Pennsylvania. Even the hardworking, unremarkable places that have little more to say for them that they’re “a great place to grow up” seem well-maintained and pleasant to pass through. I often wonder why similar towns in West Virginia can’t seem so nice. Leaving Zelienople we had to wait for a train to cross the road. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine how the town must have been a century earlier. On the road out of town we slowly edged past the train that was taking a more direct route than the road that wound around and above the tracks. The drive to Beaver Falls and past to Jenn’s parent’s home was nothing short of relaxing, before we knew it we were pulling in the driveway.

Jenn is one of those friends who is amazing to see every day (we lived together in college), yet if we don’t see each other for months it is like no time has passed the next time we do see each other. Chris and I also love her parents and siblings. We couldn’t imagine a more pleasant end to our 4^th of July than with such a wonderful family.

The Dimming of the Day

Once we completed the Pocahontas County geochallenge for this year, we learned about another geochallenge happening in the area, the Route 39 Byway Challenge. Unfortunately, this series proved to be somewhat more disorganized than the Pocahontas County challenge. We had managed to find a few of the geocaches in this series (the first one, Jailhouse Blues, was entirely accidental), but one was entirely elusive and it turned us off of completing series. Several other experienced cachers had failed to ever log a find on the cache and the cache owner appeared to be oblivious on how to remedy the situation. 

What this drove home to us is the power of geocaching as a tourism tool. The promise of a cool, fun, well-curated geocaching tour lures cachers like us to an area. However, a poorly executed series rapidly leads to grumpiness. Other issues with this series included lacking a central place to get information on the trail, incomplete and inconsistent passport sheets to record the finds, multiple owners of the caches (which makes it difficult to find a list or contact owners online). Though probably the most egregious error was in creating a series commemorating Route 39 specifically, one of the caches required a 90 minute round trip deadhead south of the route to log one of the caches. But no one says you must complete all of the challenges, so we didn’t. We enjoyed the quick detour into Bath County, VA and once we became annoyed we changed strategies.

The original Jefferson Baths at Warm Springs, Virginia along Route 39

We headed north on U.S. Route 220. This is an utterly stunning drive in Virginia and West Virginia. It isn’t even too bad if you keep following it through Maryland and Pennsylvania. But we headed toward Seneca Rocks and right at dusk found ourselves at the New Germany Valley overlook. We got out of the car stretched our legs and took photographs (and logged an earthcache!).

Sitting on a guadrail with Germany Valley behind me, utterly breathtaking

Given the dimming of the day, we cruised down through Monkeytown and toward Elkins where we had dinner. The long days of late spring sometimes seem to have a disorienting effect on when it’s time to eat or even when it’s time to head toward home.