West Virginia - Day 24

Creekside Camping

Wednesday, 24 April 2019

today's route

(Same apology as yesteday for the changing text size.)

The weather had been just beautiful yesterday afternoon, and I rolled out the awning and hooked the dogs up to long leashes for a while.  Then, shortly after dinner, the heavens opened up and it started pouring.  Good thing I had the awning out so I could put away the leashes without getting soaked, and I can roll up the awning from inside the cabin.  I’ll need to remember to roll it back out soon, though, to get it dried out.

After all that trouble I went to to get rid of that dirty water, I found there was still some in the system.  And it’s not just aesthetics – the water pump makes funny noises and runs a lot more often with that dirty water.  But after I ran the water a bit, the rest of the dirty stuff seemed to get clear of the system and the water pump started sounding and acting more like itself.  I wonder if the brown color wasn’t more than minerals – maybe some dirt in there too.

I remember once when I was a little girl and we were living in Waco, there was a time when the water came out of the faucet looking awful and my momma told us that the river had turned over.  The city’s water supply came from the Brazos River, and maybe they didn’t treat it as much as they do now, though I know they added fluoride because Momma always said that’s why our teeth were so strong.  Anyway, I guess when the river turned over, silt got into the water supply and turned the water dirty.  And maybe what I got in my water tank this time was muddy water.

Sometime after it got light, I heard Lily making some odd noises.  When I looked in the same direction she was, I saw a big black crow.  I don’t remember her showing any particular interest in birds before, so this was a surprise.  She made that odd little kek-ing noise cats make when they’re looking at a bird.

Speaking of odd noises, on our last walk before we left the campground I heard an odd noise, and at the same time the dogs both reacted exuberantly, so I looked around for the deer.  Three of them on the steep hill above us.  The odd noise had been one of the deer warning the others, I guess, and they took off, bounding up that steep hillside at great speed.  I don’t think I could have fallen down that hill as fast as they were running up it.  Their legs look so delicate, but they’ve got real muscles to be able to do that.

On the road

I followed the directions for the road to Harrisville the campground hosts gave me, and it wasn’t quite like they said, but I got to see some different countryside.  That nice newly-paved road was still going on and lasted another 2½ miles before showing me what I would have been driving on for miles if not for the new pavement.  Maybe another 2 or 3 miles of badly potholed road, but then it became just ordinary country roadway with just the ordinary surface.  That I don’t mind a bit.

Along the road I passed a gate to someone’s property with a sign on it:

NO HUNTING

NO TRESPASSING

DON’T ASK

They must have had a lot of annoying people along.

Also along the road, I was met with a parade of dump trucks.  Really.  Well, not a real parade but there must have been 9 or 10 of them, all going the same direction.  I was curious where they were headed and didn’t pass anything that looked like it might be the place.

downtown Harrisville

I’d written myself a note that Harrisville is the home of Berdine’s Five and Dime, est. 1908, the oldest such store still in operation.  I’d intended to look for it but forgot by the time I was there.  It’s a beautiful old town, though, and still has many lovely buildings.  I got this photo off the internet, but it gives you an idea.  Odd because the town is really small.  I tried to find some history of the place, but even Wikipedia failed me.

I knew I’d come into Harrisville on Route 5, and the map said that would T into Route 16, which I wanted to take northwest to the Ohio River.  In town I found a sign that said “To Route 16” but that was the last mention I saw of Route 16 for miles and miles.  I knew I was on it, but I’ve found West Virginia to be really good about labeling their roads so felt almost abandoned when I went such a distance without seeing any labels at all.  At least there was just the one road and I didn’t have to make any choices.

Route 16 meets Route 2 at St. Marys, about 14 miles away from Route 50, which functions like an interstate in that part of the state.  Not long after I passed Route 50, I saw a highway warning sign saying there was an 8% grade 12 miles ahead.  And later a sign that it was 10 miles ahead, then 7 miles ahead.  They really wanted us to know there was a steep hill coming up.  But as I've found so often in West Virginia, when I got to it, the road wasn't all that bad.  The hill was only a mile long and, honestly, there are roads like that in Texas's Hill Country.  

In comparison to the terror I felt on Pennsylvania's roads, I'm starting to feel some real affection for West Virginia's, where broken pavement and no shoulders are the worst things I'm finding.

I turned right at St. Marys and, from then on, I followed the Ohio River.  WV Route 2 winds along the river all the way to the PA border.  The online mapping programs kept trying to route me through Ohio where Ohio Route 7 also follows the Ohio River - it's just a fancier roadway, apparently.  But I'm really glad I stayed in West Virginia, because I got to see what WV life is like along the Ohio.

the mighty Ohio River

This is an obstructed view of the river but you can see the size and the surrounding hills, which continued all the way north.

One of the first things I found along the road was a WV correctional facility, with a big recycling facility right next to it.  And what I want to know is where they've been hiding their recycling capability for the last 3 weeks.  I still haven't seen any indication that anyone in this state knows what recycling even is.

I was still in the environs of St. Marys when I started to see signs of trouble.  First one ambulance came screaming by, lights flashing - and then a second one, ditto.  I could see a plume of smoke in the distance but had been thinking it was just from a smokestack or something.  But when the traffic came to a complete standstill, I rethought that.  We inched forward a short way, then some oncoming traffic came on.  And then a tow truck coming from behind me passed by with flashing lights.  Sure enough, I found - .8 mile and 26 minutes later - that there'd been a bad accident.  By then there was only one smushed burned out car left blocking half the road, but the 2 ambulances had already told me it must have been a really bad mess.  The accident must have happened not too long before I got there, and emergency personnel were doing a great job managing the traffic - the lines for both lanes were already much shorter than when I joined them.  You can't help but worry, though, what with 2 ambulances and at least one completely burned car.

In the town of Friendly, we stopped at the Methodist Church because it had a large parking lot and the dogs were needing a break.  I'm glad we stopped because walking the dogs gave me time to notice this tiny town still has some beautiful old buildings, though most of them are in various stages of disrepair.  Behind the church I saw a staircase that went up to the next street, and then I noticed it kept going to the street above that, and then I saw it went on to the street above that one.  I haven't seen anything like it since I lived in Juneau, where hillside staircases are common.

Farther down the road I came to Sistersville, where there is a historical marker saying the town was named in 1815 for the sisters of Charles Wells, who settled the area in 1776.  Online, though, I found an odd website for this event called the Sisters Fest, and they include a different, and more amusing (including the misspellings), version of local history.   https://sistersfestwv.wordpress.com/history-of-sistersville-wv/

As noted in that history link, the town sits near the Mason-Dixon line, and not far down the road I found their survey marker.

You can see it's protected by a case, just as well because it's already worn almost past legibility.  It's 3-sided, with one side being rounded.  I tried to clean up the photos, but even when I was standing in front of it I had trouble reading it.

Farther down the road I passed a historical marker for Zachary Taylor.  I knew he wasn't from here, and can't find a copy online I can attach, so here's what it said:

General Zachary Taylor, on his way to Washington to be inaugurated as the 12th President of the U.S., found his steamer blocked by ice here.  He left his boat and completed his trip over the National Pike.

I passed many many industries along the Ohio River on both sides of it.  Most of them seemed to be chemical companies, making me wonder about the water quality in the river.  One that said only Natrium on it was seriously stinky.  Among others I passed the Westlake Chemical Co., CertainTeed Gypsum, Moundsville Calcining Plant, and a nuclear power plant.  Seems ignominious for the great Ohio River to have its banks lined with this sort of thing, but I understand these companies provide good jobs for the area.

Today's song of the day is "Boogie Woogie Choo Choo Train."  Quite a number.

Moundsville
My primary goal today was the burial mound here, and I found it quite easily from online directions.  I was really surprised when I got here, though, that it's immediately across the street from an old penitentiary.  I'd heard about this place but it seemed to be famous mainly for being haunted, and I wasn't interested in a tour for that.  The building turned out to be a lot more, though.

main penitentiary building

close-up of the center

there's another wing this same size on the other side

This prison was in use from 1876 until 1995.  When you imagine it being used so recently, you get an idea of the problems they had there.  There's some interesting history to the place on the first two pages at this link  www.legendsofamerica.com  and the stuff about being haunted is on the third page.

Across the street is what's called the Grave Creek Mound.  The Native Americans are estimated to have carried more than 60,000 tons of dirt, one basket at a time, to build this mound.

I waited for ages for the teenagers sitting on top of the mound to come down, or at least to move out of sight, but they seemed ready to homestead up there.  I finally gave up when still more folks started climbing up the path to the top.

Maybe I'm just being overly sensitive, but this is a burial site, there are people buried in this mound and it was sacred ground for a long time.  It feels disrespectful to me to be climbing on it and taking photos of the view, as I saw people doing.  One thing to be doing archaeological research, an ongoing activity, but another thing entirely to be hanging out and chatting with your buds in the place reserved long ago for the priests.

Back on the road

About two miles away from Moundsville is Glen Dale, which looks lie an even larger town to me;  it was the birthplace, and apparently is the current residence, for well-known country singer Brad Paisley.

Wheeling is only a few miles farther along the road.  Nearby I passed the Ohio County Mine and buildings for its owner Murray Energy Corp., which operates 13 coal mines in 5 states and employs 6,000 people.  So if anyone was wondering, coal mining is still a going concern in this part of the world.

I headed east on I-70 and saw a sign saying it had been designated the Doc and Chickie Williams Highway, the King and Queen of Country Music.  I actually knew about them because they have their own exhibit at the West Virginia Culture Center that I visited a few weeks ago.  I guess they were from this part of the state.

I was looking for a campground called Creekside Camping.  I'd chosen it mainly because it looked like it was right on a main road and I thought it'd be easy to get to.  It didn't quite work out like that, though.  When I called to make the reservation, the woman gave me all kinds of directions, saying she thought landmarks would be helpful, and I dutifully wrote them down because I, too, like landmarks.  But her directions didn't at all match the online information, so I took another look at her website and realized she never even put an address on her site.  I'd gotten the address from some generic computer something and it didn't have anything to do with reality.

Figuring she knew what she was talking about more than the internet did, I followed her directions (exit 11, go downhill a ways, at the T turn right on Timber Haven, pass the Girl Scout Camp, cross the concrete bridge).  And she was right.  There they were.  And the road in wasn't any worse than any other back road.

But this place was tiny and was nearly full of what appeared to be full-timers who left early for work every day (I learned) and who all had dogs (it seemed) and who wanted to relax after work.  There was very little space between campsites and I finally turned on the fan (for white noise) and went to bed at 6:30 to drown out my neighbors - very nice folks but too full of their own concerns to remember to keep their voices down.  Weird little place.