New River Gorge National Park

The hills and hollers of West Virginia delighted us when we first visited in 2017. That trip was motivated by the closure of coal mines in WV and Kentucky and fueled by a CNN documentary about Beattyville, KY, as the poorest town in America. I was determined to see Beattyville and to follow the Appalachian Mountains south from Vermont. It wasn't until we entered the hills of West Virginia that the trip became interesting. It was here that our navigational devices became useless and each hairpin turn in the ever climbing and descending landscape magically deposited us in a place of beauty. One lane dirt roads, barely navigable in our RV, would land us in mountain top towns. The lawns of the homes here were often too steep for mowers and instead were manicured with a weed whacker. Each town had a church with white steeple and hillside cemetery. Add to this bucolic scene, flowering Dogwood and a babbling brook and you have, "almost heaven", West Virginia.

This trip can be found in the blog archive under 2017 April.

Dogwood 

During this trip to West Virginia, we weren't looking for poverty but instead, visiting our nation's newest National Park, New River Gorge, having just received this designation in 2021. The New River, however, was named a National River in 1978 and is well known among rafters and kayakers for its  top rated rapids.We were told by rangers that this river is one of the oldest in the world and rocks along the gorge walls can be as old as 330 million years.

The New River Gorge bridge has an equivalent height of two Statues of Liberty placed on top of the Empire State Building, 800 plus feet above ground and 3000 feet long.

Unlike many other National Parks we have visited, New River Gorge has no entrance fee and all campgrounds are primitive, geared toward tents and not RVs of our size. Fortunately, there are many wonderful State Parks within easy driving distance. We found getting around New Gorge to be somewhat confusing. It’s quite spread out with some towns embedded. The gorge dictates that many roads are narrow and dead ends. Despite going to the visitors center and receiving copious information and maps from a well informed ranger, we found ourselves still confused. But, not to be deterred, we ventured out. Our destination was the old railroad town of Thurmond. The railroad was instrumental in opening this rugged terrain to exploration. The ranger, knowing our vehicle was 30 feet long, had given us information on where to go safely, saying "do go here" and "definitely don't try this". We were not quite sure while driving to Thurmond if this was a do or a don't. 

Bucky preformed heroically navigating the 20 miles of single lane curved road leading into Thurmond. There wasn't much traffic and when we met another vehicle, he found just enough shoulder to pull over onto. We followed the railroad tracks and lovely streams through the woods, seeing nothing for miles and miles when suddenly a brown and yellow park sign appeared with picnic area and an arrow pointing down a terrifically steep hill. We pulled over against another park sign saying Stone Cliff. From here, we watched several small vehicles hesitate at the top of the hill then plummet into picnic hell! A white jeep approached with a front mounted winch. My take was that the winch was not applied purely for show. 

Stone Cliff

Our trip to Thurmond ended abruptly as we crested a steep hill with a narrow bridge beyond. I assumed we would proceed, but Bucky stopped abruptly uttering, "We can't go through !"

He remembered the ranger saying, "don't take the one lane bridge near Thurmond. You're too long to make the turn when you reach the end and you'll have to back the entire way out."

It was here that Bucky showed true expertise as an RV driver. Between the railroad tracks and the river's edge he jockeyed the Greyhawk back and forth 180 degrees. I unabashedly stood at the top of the steep hill to flag any approaching vehicles to a stop. Normally, I don't like to display publicly, but this was an exception. Fortunately, no cars approached and we were soon crawling the 20 miles of one lane road out of Thurmond. Fortunately, the ride out of the unknown always feels shorter than the ride into the unknown.

We enjoyed our time in New River Gorge, but it's definitely a park that appeals more to paddlers and hikers and less to RVers. This may change as it is brand new to the park system, but there's a definite charm to its simplicity.

Our drive north on US RT 219 was spectacular. The farms and fields resembled VT but most were above 3,000 feet. We passed Pearl Buck's birthplace in the town of Hillsboro and Snowshoe Mountain Ski Resort with its 1500 vertical feet and 60 trails. For me, this part of West Virginia had everything I love about Vermont with many more flowering trees. 

Pearl Buck's birthplace

                                                 This gnome house came as a surprise!

Barn quilts have begun to appear.

The Walmart of Elkins, WV is providing us lodging tonight. Tomorrow we'll head to Pennsylvania and Amish country.