On the Road Again

Driving, not riding, but I'll write here anyway. The other night I walked up to a van I hadn't seen in a year and called inside "Scott.. Scott?"
"Huh?"
"Josiah here."
"Josiah?"
"Yeah"
"Hey! Where have you been, traveling the wasteland?"
Pretty much. So I laughed deep from my belly, and then we caught up. I've been driving much of September, working in places, visiting family and friends in others.

Here's a rough map. It ended up being 5555 miles from Sept 4 to Oct 2.

I guess I'm a travel writer. It's only on the road that I journal, and that's pretty much the extent of my writing. I've been a bit written-out over the last year, and my travels have mostly been for work. September could have been more of the same, with a tradeshow in Atlanta and training up in NJ. But with Elise and family on Long Island, and the folks near Chattanooga, I figured I should at least visit a little while nearby. I decided to drive, give myself some flexibility, and not abandon Muki for my travels. Boston - so near NY - has my favorite uncle as well as close friends from school, so I planned to spend time there as well. I got to see all my close family, spend some time, several times catching up and playing cribbage. My nephew and niece grow up fast, both sweet and bright and differently mischievious. It was also good too to see fellow Obies, all of us growing still.

I'm planning on backpacking for a week out at the Grand Canyon, two weeks from now. I decided to take my backpack and camping gear on my road trip. I walked around with water and gear in my pack on a number of occasions, getting my legs and brain ready for the canyon. This afforded me the ability to camp easily on my trip, which I only ended up doing on the drive back. I gave a shout out to some river guide friends who I suspected would be running the Gauley River about now.

Last weekend, I drove all day Saturday from Long Island to the (self-proclaimed) coolest small town in the USA: Fayetteville, WV. I landed at the back parking lot of one rafting company, where at least a hundred people were camped out on maybe three acres. I found Scott, and we went out to hear some bluegrass. The highlight of the Wild Rumpus show was their cover of the theme song from The Jefferson's, bluegrass style. Movin on up...

I spent Sunday hiking around with Muki. We did an easy 5 miles along the rim of the gorge, past Diamond Point two ways on the Endless Wall trail. I checked out climbing routes and river rapids. Rhodie's in the hollows and near the creeks. Pine, fir on the hillsides. Oak and maple beneath the rim, headed down to the river a multitude of species. Diamond Point is a good spot for thinking, overlooking one of the oldest rivers on Earth.

Later, I drove around the area, making a circuit around the Gauley. I stopped at Carnifax Ferry Battlefield to check out Pillow Rock rapids on the Gauley. I see the sign for the overlook, .2 miles left, and decide to just grab binocs and dog. At .2 miles there's a sign in the woods that says something like "This is not a trail. We recommend you do not go this way. Etc." It looked like a trail down to the rapids, matching something of Scott's description. I hiked down, often 50% grade on slick mud and roots, about 5-600' down. Treacherous, in a word.

Muki and I spent an hour watching jumpers, kayakers, and rafters at Pillow Rock. Rafts that went too much left flipped, high side up the rock and then over into the channel. After a while, we were approached by two kayakers carrying their boats, looking for the trail out. Two ladies, one late 20s, the other a teenager. I told them the way, and watched them head out. The teenager was having trouble with her boat on the flats. So I left and carried her boat out. They were a teacher/student pair, and had broken too many paddles to continue down the river.

As we started up the hill, we heard whistles downstream from the rapid. Soon EMT and park workers started coming down the trail, the first with an AED. We paused for each group of rescuers, as we hauled 50 pound boats up 50 stories of muddy stairs. It won't be as hard as hiking out of the Grand.

I had dinner that night with twins I worked with on the Rio Grande, now running treetop zipline tours - part of the monies go to preserving hemlock in the area. Erica had to work the next day, but Erin and her boy Justin offered to take me down lower Gauley the next day. After taking Muki on a hike, after breakfast, we met up where Justin works and waited. Rain drove us into the boathouse. We waited for the trip leader to gather all the customers for the trip. Quiet, introspective, chain-smoking water people. A long bus ride on mountain backroads. Then as we put in, the sun came out.

The lower Gauley is more class IV-V rapids, whereas the upper is V-VI. Most of the danger is from undercut rocks. If you go swimming, in many places you'll be tumbled along the underside of a roughly worn limestone boulder - sized car to house. If you take a good line, you can hit some 6' waves and raft surfing holes. Justin put the boat where he wanted, and Erin and I powered it along. Koontz's Flume, upper and lower Staircase and the Mash rapids were my favorites, as they were each pretty long series of drops. It was also a beautiful sunny day, sometimes a hard breeze, but never cold. The lower section of the river passes several campsites, but it is undeveloped and winds through a lovely gorge. Eye candy between the brain/body candy of the rapids. Yeah, I've got a sweet tooth.

And in the last week, I've been motoring back. I saw my folks again, and my bro Jeremy and his family. I made it back in time for karate yesterday morning, and sensei rewarded me (not that I'm special, he distributes the love evenly) with many pushups, squats, situps in between kata. It's good to be back. I may feel like I work and live in Babylon, but it's not a necessary condition. I have freedom to get away and balance things out in my life, and I love it.