Swimming through History

To celebrate the birth of the United States, Chris and I naturally took a little drive. We kicked things off after sleeping in at a hotel just outside of Pittsburgh. The night before we stayed at Kennywood until they insisted it was closing time and moved on to Ritter’s, one of my absolute favorite greasy spoon diners, in the Bloomfield neighborhood of Pittsburgh. At this point we knew there was no driving back to Morgantown. I pulled up Hotwire on my iPhone and with 45 minutes before midnight, scored a ridiculously cheap 4-star hotel south of town.

When south of Pittsburgh, it is vital to stop at Two Brothers BBQ. It is a fact that the best BBQ comes from a trailer across from the volunteer fire department in Presto, PA. There is no meat they are not the masters of. I’m in love with their pulled pork nachos and their ribs. It was still early, so rather than hit the interstate back to Morgantown we decided to swing through Wheeling and take U.S. Route 250 and West Virginia Route 7 back. There are a few worthy attractions on this route. We decided to make a concerted effort to visit the Cameron City Pool.

The Cameron pool opened in 1939, the project being one of the make-work projects to put Americans to work during the Great Depression. The goals for the pool were two-fold: 1) recreation and 2) an emergency fire protection reservoir. The pool is unique in design being a walk-in pool with a semi-circular shape. It is one of the first pools of its type and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Searching the internet finds photos of the pool in use as recently as 2001 so we thought our odds were good. When we rolled into town we found a few streets closed for a carnival and firefighters using hoses and hydrants as a water feature to cool off the kids in the town. This seemed adorable and it was wonderful to see folks out and about. We made our way around the closures to the Cameron City Park, where the pool is. Unfortunately, we’re a few years too late.

The entrance to the pool was gated shut. We’re not entirely sure what happened to it. We walked up to the edge of the chain-link gate and could see the pool. It sat empty beyond the vacant pool house and concession stand. It was disappointing. Having this unique pool makes Cameron a special place not only for residents, but attracts outsiders. It made me revisit a recurring thought.

What if a group of people got together, pooled some money, and even just used the interest to make microgrants and/or microloans to help civic projects? Microfinance has been wildly successful in developing countries especially for increasing independence and entrepreneurship among women. If it works in that context I can’t help but wonderful what kind of effect it would have on civic pride, especially considering many of these projects currently receive funding through Transportation Enhancement Funds, a component of transportation funding that is increasingly controversial.

I think this is one of my new life goals. I want places like Cameron to not only be special to those from the town, but special to folks like me, with no specific connection to the place.

Take a Back Road: Morgantown – Washington – Wheeling

Part 4

Cameron takes the traveler by surprise. It is a much larger community than one may expect. It has the footprint and sprawl of a city three or four times its present size. This is due in part from the terrain, the city is tightly hemmed into several hollers of Appalachian hills and also as a relic to a time when Cameron was a greater city than it is now. Its well-preserved downtown, while largely vacant, is like traveling through time. Other civic efforts, like fixing up the old rail depot (despite the fact there are no longer any tracks) are promises that this is one town that will not lose its connection to history. It is also worth noting their public pool was a make-work project from the Great Depression, but it still welcomes the public each summer. It has a unique, beach-style design that is not particularly common.

From Cameron the trip through the hills continues. Approaching the town of Hundred, remnants of a railroad come closer and closer to the road. An old tunnel, with a portal reading “Soles,” peers over to U.S. Route 250. While sealed, the portal has survived the elements well. Things like this left behind make me crave to know more of the area history.

Hundred itself is a sleepy town that epitomizes Americana. A welcoming main street with rows of picture perfect white homes spurring off, coupled with poor cell phone service at best, and the chimes of the church bell carried on the cool air was an almost surreal experience. In Hundred we picked up the Hundred Cache on the East Wetzel Rail Trail, a trail whose length is only about 1.5 miles. It roughly travels from one end of town to the other. But it is a valiant effort based on the success of other rail trails in the state. Pleasantly, the trail follows the creek through town as it gurgles a pleasant song. It was only a short walk, but helped recharge our batteries as the pizza from Wheeling was wearing us out.

Just beyond Hundred we picked up WV Route 7, the final leg before returning home. Slaloming through natural gas pad sites we sought one final cache. Much of the day’s drive showcased the past, but the Bob Beach Bridge, while situated at the entrance to the Mason-Dixon Historical Park, is a view to the future. On a prior visit to this bridge I encountered a park volunteer who said that they had wanted an old-fashioned covered bridge. When the Department of Transportation refused, they countered with the offer for the bridge we see today. The Bob Beach Bridge is a fiber-reinforced, glue-laminated timber arch bridge with a fiber-reinforced polymer deck. Intending to showcase this unique structure our friend and frequent road trip partner, Brian, placed this geocache. With the hillside sparsely populated by briars this time of year we made the find quickly.

Despite an amazing day of adventure, we breathed a sigh of relief and finished the drive into Morgantown. Visions of future trips danced through our minds. I always think it is ideal when you’re eager to return somewhere.