Gassaway

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Winding through the rolling farm land of Pennsylvania had me wondering why my mother, a Pennsylvania native, would choose to leave this state to settle and raise her family in Vermont. The grass smelled fresh and the soft green of new leaves hung from the trees. It was a welcomed sight after the late snow of our Vermont winter. We hadn't intended to end up in Maryland, but found ourselves traveling along her northern border west to West Virginia. It was an unexpected pleasure with "red buds" jumping from the green hillsides in a burst of purple. We first saw this wild tree traveling in Virginia. I was overwhelmed with its beauty and called my nephew, a University of Virginia grad, to learn its name. He responded without hesitation,"we just call it red bud". So red bud it is. 
Maryland tried to out due Pennsylvania with her immaculately maintained farms. Many of which had farmhouses layered with first, second and third story porches, standing as they had for a century or more. My immediate thought when seeing this was the amount of upkeep required on the ornate railings and porch posts.

Not all were well cared for.

I've never been in West Virginia. My husband, Bucky, hunted deer on a ranch in Albright, WV many years ago. I remember him hunting there and me at home with four lively children. There were a lot of hunting trips back then, now, looking out my window at the hills and "hollers" I understand a little better. What a wonderful world in which to escape.

Describing West Virginia as having steep hills and deep valleys, is an understatement. Combine these with the curves needed to negotiate the ups and downs and it makes for a thrilling ride. Near lunch time we randomly picked an exit off the highway to see what a town in the "holler" would be like. The exit we chose took us along the Elk River and into the town of Gassaway.  Its strange name was derived from a man named Henry Gassaway Davis. You tell me why they didn't name their town Davis?? Gassaway was once a lively railroad town, but now seems quiet, but far from dead. We spent time parked outside of town eating lunch while watching a Killdeer lure us away from her nest, first issuing loud chirps then alternately fanning her tail and dragging her wings in desperation. Our dog watched with delight, wishing her leash were longer. 

In Gassaway's downtown, we watched as a man drove a forklift moving merchandise around what seemed to be a building supply store. Oddly, one whole section of the building appeared to have been destroyed. I wanted to run over and ask the machine operator what had happened. 

Looking back at Gassaway from the ballfield outside of town.

We followed the Elk River until we reached Charleston, W Virginia's capital. Here the Elk joins the Kanawha River and later the Ohio. We learned that Elk River water is so clean it provides the drinking water for not only Charleston, but most of the towns in the Elk River Basin. 

Presently, we're camped in Louisa, Kentucky and plan to visit Beattyville, KY said to be the poorest town in America.....I guess we'll find out.