A Biggest Loser Winner

I don’t watch TV very much. I only pay for the cheapest cable package, so I don’t get many channels. My television is used primarily for the news, some PBS documentary stuff, and Jeopardy. Even with these favorite shows, it is often just playing in the background while I’m multi-tasking on something else.

Thus, I know very little about most of the TV shows that are deemed popular. This is especially true for most of the new wave of “reality shows.” However, because of my constant struggle with dieting and exercise, one type of entertainment programming I have watched periodically is weight loss shows—particularly “The Biggest Loser” on NBC. I remember the very first season, and have watched the show change over the years. While I sometimes get frustrated at the convoluted plot twists and efforts to induce drama in the house, I still tend to have it on—even if only as background noise for my other activities.

Given my history with this show, my interest was piqued when I discovered that there was going to be a travelling Biggest Loser Half-Marathon event in Charleston, WV. Two former contestants whom I remembered—mom Jackie Evans and her son Dan Evans—are the stars of this traveling roadshow, with other former contestants joining in as the race caravan rolls from city to city during the year. The timing for the Charleston event turned out right because we were thinking about going that weekend for some other reasons. Plus, I am currently competing in a six-month weight loss contest that started in January and ends soon. I could choose to get up early on Saturday morning and go for a 13.1 mile stroll.

All of this decision-making for our plans that weekend was happening at the last minute. When it appeared that we would indeed go to Charleston, I decided to wait until I had completed at least nine miles of racewalking before signing up (figuring that 9 was close enough to 13.1). I’ve done a couple of half-marathons in the past (one running and one walking) but it had been six years since I had last gone that far. However, I’ve always been one who is more interested in the thrill of the race itself than in the tedious training most people do prior to the race.

Just five days before the race, I registered for it (after checking the long range weather forecasts). By waiting until the last minute, I had to pay full price—there are discounts if you commit to the race early, but I had missed the last chance on those reduced rates. It was the most expensive price I have ever paid for the mere opportunity to punish my body. I guess you are paying a premium price for the connection with the Biggest Loser TV show, and the cachet that goes along with that. I’m normally rather frugal, but I decided that this might be worth splurging on. After all, you never know how many more opportunities I might have to do a special event like this.

In fairness, you do get a bit more for your money than I expected. The day before the race, they have a nice registration process with informational sessions on a variety of topics, including inspirational speeches from former contestants (I even got my picture taken with Chelsea Arthurs from this past season). The event shirt was blaze orange (good for hunting, too!) and very nicely designed. Participants also received a matching drawstring bag with the Biggest Loser logo. Everyone who finishes gets a snazzy looking medal, age groups are set up in five year (not ten year) increments with the top three in each get medals as well, and professional photographers roam the racecourse taking your pictures, which can be sorted by your bib number and downloaded for free after the race.

On raceday, I made my way over from the hotel to the starting line area at Haddad Riverfront Park. I wanted to represent both of my alma maters, so I wore my University of Charleston Golden Eagle socks and my former WVU soccer jersey, which has the flying WV logo offset on the chest, so that my bib member would not block it.

The half marathon was set to start at 8:00, but it would have three waves from the starting corral, each separated by a few minutes. The first was to be strictly runners, the second would be runners and walkers, and the third was to be strictly walkers. I had registered as a walker, but since I would be using a racewalker technique, I decided to position myself in the second group (but perhaps I should have started with the final wave?). Plus, I was antsy and wanted to get going so I could get this over and done.

Soon the horn sounded and the second crowd started emptying the corral. Even though I was at the back and just racewalking up Kanawha Boulevard, it wasn’t long before I started passing slow runners or runners who had already decided to take a break and walk, even though we were only a short distance into a half marathon. Further up Kanawha Boulevard, someone had posted an inspirational sign near the Capitol which read “You run better than the government runs!”

Upriver from the Capitol, we turned off of Kanawha Boulevard and headed back towards the Capitol via Washington Street. Then we veered behind the Capitol Complex and over behind UC Stadium. Near the WCHS television studios, we took the bridge across the Interstate and started up the hill. By then, it was really getting hot and humid.

I’ve written about my only other visit to the cemetery on the hill above Charleston. Now I was walking a half-marathon through a convoluted path that took us up, down, and around the narrow roads of the cemetery. Just when you would reach the crest of a hill, hoping that it was the last and that you would finally be walking downhill back to town, you would see it merely led to a short downhill followed by another uphill just beyond. Near the mausoleum there was a water sprayer that you could go through to cool off, which I gladly opted to do. A few of the other participants were noticing the majestic views of the Kanawha Valley, including the Capitol dome in the distance, but I had enjoyed them on my prior visit—at this point, I just wanted to get out of the cemetery before I died!

Finally, we reached another water station and then started the descent back to town. I like long downhills when I am running, but as a racewalker you must continue your walking stride rather than let your momentum force you into a run. It was a bit frustrating to see runners who I had passed on the cemetery hills (when they were tired and resorting to walking) suddenly catch up and pass me on the long downhill stretch.

Soon we were turning off Court Street and onto Virginia Street, working our way through downtown. I was surprised in the East End by a former high school classmate, who ran out in the street to give me hug—despite the fact that I was drenched in sweat. It was a very inspirational gesture from a beautiful girl whom I have rarely seen (not counting Facebook) since graduation. That is one good thing about getting old—hugs are granted far more readily now than when we were in high school. Thanks, Jane!

I'm flexing my bicep while pointing at the WV logo to indicate I was feeling "West Virginia Strong!" after Jane's hug.

As we entered the Capitol Complex from behind the Governor’s Mansion, I noticed a woman up ahead of me stop to take a picture of the Capitol dome from that western side, which allowed me to close the gap on her. Then, as we were going by the back center of the Capitol, with the fountain in the center, she stopped to take another photo of the northern side. Obviously this was her first visit to West Virginia’s capital city, so as a proud native of the Mountain State, I offered to stop and take a picture of her with the Capitol dome behind her as a memento of her visit. Between this photo shoot and the hug from my high school classmate, I probably lost a minute off my time, but both were worth it.

Eventually, we arrived back on Kanawha Boulevard, where we had veered off of it a few hours earlier. I was trying to stay in the shade of the trees to avoid the oppressive sunshine. After completing 11 miles, Kanawha Boulevard never seemed so long! I could see when I passed UC on the opposite river bank, but the boulevard kept going and going! Finally, the downtown appeared as I went under the Southside Bridge, and saw the Union Building (the only building on the river side of Kanawha Boulevard) where I had worked a part-time job my last senior semester. I was so glad to be near the end that I wanted to run, but had to maintain my racewalker stride. The crowd was cheering to encourage us to the finish.

I could see there was a clock on the right side of the finish line, but they had some colorful flags lined up in front of it which inhibited my ability to read my time until I was close to the finish line itself. I noted that it read 3:03 (and some odd seconds) as I neared my final steps of the race. I was so relieved to have finished 13.1 miles (especially since I had not practiced going further than 9 miles). The time didn’t really matter—it just felt great that I had done it! There aren’t too many folks who have even attempted a single half marathon, and now I’ve been able to complete three of them—in three of West Virginia’s biggest cities, each of which have been important in my life (Charleston, Parkersburg, and Morgantown).

I had not set a goal for myself prior to the race (in part because I had no recent data since I had not practiced a half marathon), other than the goal of simply finishing it. After all, it takes some gumption to merely attempt a half marathon. However, when I realized I almost beat the three hour mark, I started trying to think about how much time had been spent hugging and taking pictures. Then I remembered that the event clock would have started with the first wave to leave the starting corral, so if there was a two-minute gap before the second wave started, then I could subtract that amount off my time. That calculation in my head got me even closer to the three hour mark.

Finally crossing the finish line!

As I staggered from the finish line area, I grabbed a bottle of water, a banana, and a couple of plums (I skipped the bagels) that were among the free post-race food offerings, and headed for the levee to rest, stretch, and listen to the end of the concert by former Biggest Loser contestant Dan Evans. Then it was time for the awards ceremony. I knew I had not seen many other walkers, and that with five-year interval age categories, I thought there was a chance I might have won something. However, to my surprise, my age category was not even announced.

I went over to the wall where they were posting results pages from their electronic scoring, and discovered that I was not listed at all. I spoke with someone in charge, who explained that the chip embedded in my racing bib must have been faulty. They asked if I had noticed my time as I crossed the finish line, and I told them it was 3:03. They entered it in the computer (and may have otherwise checked to confirm a rough estimate of my time from a list of bib numbers as they crossed the finish line). Eventually, they informed me that I had indeed finished first in my age group, and gave me a certificate and blue ribbon. I even got to have my picture taken with a group of the former contestants. Although there was a snafu, it turned out to be okay.

When examining the post-race results on the webpage, there were only 31 registered walkers (plus 253 runners). It was surprising to me that more people in the Charleston area didn’t take advantage of the chance to participate in a Biggest Loser Half Marathon! I finished seventh overall, and there was only one other guy in my age group. It might sound good to say I finished seventh overall in a half marathon, but I compared my time to last year’s Parkersburg Half Marathon (which attracts about a hundred walkers), and discovered my time would have finished 52nd overall (plus not even make the top five in my age group). That helped to keep me from feeling too full of myself. I don’t claim to be a great athlete—I’m more of a “fathlete” who channels his inner stubbornness to make it to the finish line.

All in all, it ended up being a nice day for a stroll around Charleston and then to hang out with some reality TV stars! It sure is much more memorable than simply sitting on the couch and watching TV!

After the race, with four former Biggest Loser contestants--
Chelsea, Danny, Lauren, and Dan.

The Call of the Falls

I love waterfalls! West Virginia is blessed with many of them, in a variety of types. There is just something about the sound and scenery of falling water that can hypnotize the soul.

We recently revisited Valley Falls State Park, a hidden gem that is only seven miles from Interstate 79, between Fairmont and Grafton on State Route 310. This small state park is located where the Tygart Valley River goes over a couple of ten-foot drops. This park is categorized as a day-use park—it has no lodge or campground, and closes for the winter months. But it does have nearly 1200 forested acres, 18 miles of hiking/mountain biking trails, a playground and other facilities, as well as the natural beauty of the falls. Anglers are welcome to fish, too.

I think it is fun to scamper about the giant rocks, picking your way to different vantage points along the river. It is also interesting to see the remnants of the grist mill that once operated there. Indeed, in the late 1800s there was a bustling community at Valley Falls, but fire and floods through the narrow gorge have virtually erased its existence.

Although the falls and the rapids are beautiful and melodious, the river can also be dangerous. Swimming is not allowed here, because a number of drownings have occurred. Whitewater kayaking is permissible, but only by signing a waiver in advance. Also, be mindful of the trains that occasionally travel through the park, as their tracks follow that side of the river.

If you drive to Valley Falls from I-79, head south on 310 which takes you through the small community of Quiet Dell. Watch for the park signs telling you to turn right onto a small road that also happens to lead around Rock Lake (not to be confused with Rock Lake Park that thrived in South Charleston as a swimming pool and amusement park). Rock Lake is private lakeside community in Marion County, similar to Lake Floyd in Harrison County or Lake Washington in Wood County. All of these are examples of man-made lakes around which houses were built, forming private communities in the early 20th century that still thrive today. Beyond Rock Lake, the road climbs the ridge, enters the park at the peak, and then descends down the hill to the river. The falls are a short walk from the parking area—just listen for the sound of the rushing water of the Tygart Valley River.

The name of the river is another interesting point. It was named for an early settler in the Beverly area by the name of David Tygart. This river begins near the border between Randolph County and Pocahontas County, and then flows north to Fairmont, running through such towns as Huttonsville, Elkins, Belington, Philippi, and Grafton. Most folks simply refer to it as the Tygart River, however it is officially recognized by the United States Board on Geographic Names as the “Tygart Valley River.”

Regardless of what you call the river, it is worth venturing a few miles off the interstate to experience Valley Falls State Park.

In this view, you can see both "steps" of these falls, with the first one (pictured above) further in the background. By the way, this story appeared in the July issue of "Two-Lane Livin'" magazine.

Fayette County Flying

I enjoy the incredibly unique sensation of flying through the air on a zipline. This past weekend I got the chance to try a new zipline adventure. I’ve zipped before at Hocking Hills, the Treetops Canopy Tour at the New River Gorge, the WVU zipline near Coopers Rocks, the Wild Safari zipline above The Wilds in eastern Ohio, and the long double zipline at Burning Rock. This past Saturday I tried out the Gravity zipline tour in Fayette County, West Virginia. It is truly a high flying adventure!

This is owned by the same company (Adventures on the Gorge) that runs the TreeTops Canopy Tour near the New River Gorge Bridge. I’ve done the TreeTops tour twice, which zig-zags through an old hemlock forest along Mill Creek. This canopy tour is very well designed, with an emphasis on the natural surroundings through which you are flying. It is also very educational and I highly recommend it.

The Gravity zipline tour (which requires a short bus trip from their headquarters near the gorge area to a reclaimed strip mine area on the north side of Route 60) puts a much greater emphasis on speed. Instead of shorter runs through the canopy, most of the Gravity lines are long and above the treetops (as much as 200 feet high), giving you a spectacular “big picture” view of the surroundings. Indeed, the guide pointed out that from the mountaintop where the course was built, you can even see Nicholas County to the north and Raleigh County towards the south.

Gravity starts with a couple of tame runs near the top to let you get acclimated. Then you start on three longer, higher, faster zips that criss-cross the bowl of this hillside. Unlike most other ziplines I have done, there is not much need for braking—they take care of that for you. In fact, the bigger problem for a few of the “lightweights” in our group was having enough speed and momentum to make it to the end of the line (with my weight, I had plenty of momentum).

[Notice the long-distance views and the beautiful scenery.]

After the first five zips, you board a bus again to take you back up to the top of the hill for the “grand finale.” The sixth and final zip is over 3000 feet long, and has its own nickname—the Adrena-Line. They claim that you reach speeds of 50-60 MPH! The single zipline at Burning Rock was a half-mile long and at one time was the longest in the state, but Adrena-Line beats it with hundreds of feet to spare. Like Burning Rock, Adrena-Line is actually two identical ziplines spaced about ten feet apart. This allows you to “drag race” a friend—an experience I had not done. I had zipped by myself at Burning Rock, but this time I had a friend along with me.

We knew that since I weighed more, I would beat her to the finish line (it seems the more weight, the more momentum on these zips, as long as you keep yourself as aerodynamic as possible). However, it wasn’t about who would win, it was more about the unusual experience of doing a zip with someone else at the same time. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was looking across the valley at where the two long cables converged in the distance, and realized this was going to be a long, fast, and memorable ride.

[The arrow in the middle is the landing zone, where the two parallel cables end. The arrows on the left and right side are showing the cables near their starting point. I took this picture standing at the start looking across to the end of the "Adrena-Line" before we flew across.]

I got beat off the start, and so she took the early lead. That actually worked out well, because I really enjoyed the amazing view of watching her fly through the sky—with the green forest below us as a background—from a vantage point only a bird could appreciate. Slowly, I gained ground on her, until about halfway down the course. I was able to yell “Bye Bye!” to her as I took the lead. This allowed her to also enjoy the unusual perspective of seeing someone else flying through the air during the second half of our flight.

I’ll never forget that amazing sight of flying through the air with her! But even though that was the last zipline, the enjoyment wasn’t over yet—we still had fun joking around with the tour guides and bus driver as we returned all our gear and hopped on the bus for the ride back to their headquarters. Just like most of the rafting guides I’ve had over the years, our two guides plus the bus driver were very personable and full of jokes and funny comments (in addition to their primary job of being concerned with our safety).

I’d like to add one final comment about this adventure. This was a spur of the moment decision—unlike my usual recreational activities, I had not made any reservations in advance. We realized we had the time, so we just “dropped by” Adventures on the Gorge headquarters to see what we might do with no advance warning. The good people who work there mentioned a few options, and soon we were last minute additions to the 1:30 Gravity ziplining group. So if you find yourself in the New River Gorge area with time on your hands, feel free to stop by any of the outfitters to see what they might be able to do for you. Reservations are not required.

[This picture was taken from the "base camp" at Gravity, and the arrow shows a person from another group ziplining on one of the long runs prior to the Adrena-Line. The starting and finishing points of this zipline are both way out of the frame of the picture. Hopefully this gives a "sense of scale" about just how long and high these ziplines really are. If you want more info, check out http://www.newrivergorgecanopytour.com/site/gravity-zip-lines.html.]

Lions & Tigers & Bears, Oh My!

We recently took a drive to see exotic wild animals in (of all places) Preston County, WV. Just about 16 miles up Rt. 7 (mostly along beautiful Deckers Creek) from the I-68 exit in Morgantown is Hovatter’s Wildlife Zoo, a 13 acre USDA Licensed Facility between Reedsville and Kingwood. This eclectic collection of animals grew out of the strong affinity the Hovatter family has for animals of all kinds, and has expanded over the years since it first opened in 1991.

We followed the signs to the large parking area, and then walked down to the main building/gift shop. The admission was $10 for adults, plus another $7.50 if you want the optional bag of assorted treats to feed the animals (the salesperson gives you a few tips, such as only feed carrots to the giraffes, and the bears really like the granola bars).

Once you leave the main building, you wander from enclosure to enclosure, checking out the animals that live there while doling out the various food items. As they said in the Wizard of Oz, there were “lions and tigers and bears, oh my” as well as giraffes, camels, tortoises, boars, zebras, monkeys, and others. Many of the cages featured downward slanting PVC pipes, which made it easy to deliver food inside the enclosure.

Perhaps the most fun was feeding carrots to the giraffes. All you had to do was hold up a carrot, and they would stretch their long necks over the fence to take it out of your hand. Also, some of the primates could reach out with their arms and tiny hands to take food directly from your hand. Plus, I fed a camel through the fence.

The animals seemed to be well cared for, even if they were in a pen, far from their original homes. Some people are opposed to zoos because they don’t like animals in captivity. It is a bit sad to see them spending their lives locked in an enclosure, regardless of how much room there might be.

However, there were a lot of children there (as well as adults) who were thoroughly enjoying their close-up experience with these famous animals. Zoos have always been very educational, and they help people to better understand and appreciate the animal world around us. I can still remember my first trip to visit a zoo (it was a bit similar to Hovatter’s but was located in Hurricane, WV, and we had heard about it on the old Mr. Cartoon show), just like I’m sure many of the children at Hovatter’s will remember their visit.

Hovatter’s is nice because one can get a taste of what a zoo is like, without needing to travel into a major urban center like Washington, Columbus, Cincinnati, Cleveland, or Pittsburgh. It’s not a huge facility, but we enjoyed our visit there. Plus, I’d much rather drive alongside the dancing waters of Deckers Creek than face the heavy traffic found in big cities. [If you have time, stop at the little roadside park along Route 7 near the border between Monongalia and Preston Counties—there is a path from the park down to Deckers Creek where you can access several nice waterfalls.]

This zoo is a labor of love for the Hovatter family—it isn’t a lucrative profession. The patrons we saw that day seemed to really enjoy their opportunity to go on safari without leaving West Virginia. If you like zoo animals and think you’d like to visit Hovatter’s, check out their website at www.westvirginiazoo.com.

Racing School Repeat

Last year I participated in the Rusty Wallace Racing Experience (RWRE) at a half-mile paved oval called Motordrome 70 speedway in Pennsylvania (just off I-70 not all that far above Morgantown, WV). I had a great time and wrote about it in my blog at http://inquisineer.blogspot.com/2013/10/racing-school.html.

At the start of this year, I was alerted to another discount deal for the Rusty Wallace Racing Experience, this time at Columbus Motor Speedway (CMS) in Ohio. I had so much fun last year that I decided to do it again on a different track. Columbus is only about two hours away—there are no other tracks as close to my home which host such racing schools.

CMS is roughly a third of a mile long, with only about 10 degrees of banking, and it has virtually no straightaways. It is more like a circle stretched on the sides than a traditional racing oval with a front and back straights. Despite its small size and odd configuration, there is a lot of history there—it has operated continuously since 1945. I’ve watched a couple of races there over the years, and (as I reported in my previous blog posting) I got to drive a small four-cylinder “Legends” race car on it once.

My appointment was set for 8:00 AM Saturday morning—the first session of the weekend. In hindsight, I probably won’t pick the first session if I do it again, because I think there is some advantage to watching others on the track before you get out there. I arrived early, parked in the designated area, and walked over to the registration trailer to sign-in.

I decided to purchase the optional $60 insurance policy, just in case something might happen (indeed, a guy had crashed not on the race track, but at the conclusion of his session when simply coming through the pit gate during their previous visit to CMS—plus I knew about a couple of accidents that had occurred at Motordrome last year). However, I passed on their offer for purchasing a “ride-along” (where you ride in a special two-seater race car beside one of their drivers before you drive yourself on the track), or buying extra laps, or choosing the in-car video option.

At 8:00, we met under a tent canopy for the drivers’ meeting. The instructor carefully went over all the details for our track session. The track had already been marked off with tape markers at various points to indicate the proper groove to take, and cones were set at the entrance to turns one and three to indicate where you should get off the gas pedal.

RWRE is nice because they put multiple students on the track at the same time (a maximum of four at CMS), and allow you to pass each other if necessary. All the students can hear the instructor over the radio, and if you are faster than another student, the slower student is told “left and lift”—meaning they should go to the left of the groove coming out of turns 2 or 4 and lift off the gas pedal, to allow the faster car to make an outside pass on the straight stretch.

Once everyone felt comfortable with all the instructions, we went to pick up our drivers suits and helmets. Then we went to where the cars were lined up, and the pit steward assigned us to a particular car. I believe they base their decision on which car they think will best fit your dimensions—it’s not like the race car seats are adjustable as they are in a passenger car.

At your assigned car is an assistant to help you get geared up and ready to go. This person is a bit like a squire to a medieval knight, assisting you with mounting your steed. First, the official RWRE photographer comes by to get a few shots of you beside your car and climbing into it. However, I’ve taken my phone with me both times I’ve done RWRE, and each time my “squire” was willing to take a few shots for me.

Climbing through the car window and into the seat is no easy chore. Before you get in, make sure the front wheels are pointed straight ahead—you don’t want to attach the steering wheel later in what you thought was a vertical position and then discover the wheels were not properly aligned. Also make sure the crotch belt (to prevent you from “submarining” below the lap belts in a sudden stop) is not lying in the seat before you sit down. Then ease your way into the custom built seat and get comfortable. Check the pedals, instrument panel, and gear shifters (this is not a standard H-pattern single gear shift, but two shift levers—only one of which needs to be used). This will be your office for at least ten laps so get acclimated to it.

The squire will explain everything to you and make sure you are comfortable. Then you get your helmet on, the HANS device (a yoke to prevent extreme neck movements) is attached, the five point safety harness is buckled and straps are cinched, the radio speakers are slid next to your ears inside your helmet, the steering wheel is locked onto the splined shaft, and the window net is raised. Note that the steering wheel is much closer to your body than it is in a regular car—there is no power steering in these race cars, and so having it closer gives you more arm strength with which to steer it.

The instructor’s voice will come over the radio, and you reach out the window to give a “thumbs up” that you heard him. Then you turn the fuel pump on, flip the ignition toggle switch up, and push the starter button. The unmufflered race engine roars to life, and then rumbles along at idle until you are directed to pull out of the pits and onto the race track. Give it enough gas so that you aren’t embarrassed by stalling it, especially since you are starting off in second gear. Once you are on the track, even though you are still under caution, you can go ahead and shift into high gear. No more shifting is needed—just wait for the instructor to get everyone on the track and properly spaced out before the green flag flies (you don’t line up close together like a normal start to a race, but instead they put everyone at an equal distance from each other before starting).

Upon getting the command to start, you must focus intently since you alone control several hundred horsepower. Follow the tape guidelines as you drive around the track. Dive into turns 1 and 3, aiming for the apex. Then roll into the throttle coming out of turns 2 and 4, while drifting towards the outside wall. Stay in the gas until you enter the next turn. One of the biggest keys to success is to be smooth—don’t stomp the gas pedal, but gradually weigh into it coming out of turns 2 and 4, before hopping off as you enter turns 1 and 3.

While I was heading into turn 3 in one of my early laps, cranking on the steering wheel (with my left elbow down towards my left hip and my right forearm coming across the top) as I aimed for the apex, I got a bit of a surprise. As many race engines are prone to do, my car had warmed up enough (plus I was in the gas hard enough) to result in a loud backfire when I lifted off the throttle and rolled into each corner. It continued to happen several times until my time was up. I like to imagine seeing it from the grandstand with a big ball of flame rolling out of the exhaust—wish I could have had a picture of that!

It turned out there were only three of us on the track for the first session. We had started as a group of four, but one guy had purchased the extra “ride along” option, so he was given that opportunity just before the three of us went onto the track. Both of my fellow drivers were considerably younger than I was—one was probably in his 20s and the other in his 30s. I’m guessing from their attitudes that they thought they would be fast and that I was an old guy who’d probably be in their way.

I quickly had caught the first car in front of me, who was given the “left and lift” command to allow me by. As soon as I got past him, I set my sights on the next car and quickly reeled him in as well. Having passed both of the other cars, I just worked on pushing harder. Before my ten laps were up, I had lapped the first car I had passed. I felt good about winning the race on behalf of old guys everywhere.

Of course, RWRE doesn’t put an emphasis on winning or losing. They don’t even bring a radar gun or timer to provide evidence of how fast you are going. It isn’t about finding the next big racing star—it is just about giving the average fan a taste of what it feels like to drive a real race car. It feels really good to me! In fact, I wished it hadn’t ended so fast—maybe I should have purchased those extra laps.

After bringing it to a stop in the pit area, your squire helps you get disconnected and climb back out of the car. Then you head over to return the helmet and driving suit. By that time, they have souvenir pictures of you made at the trailer that you can purchase; along with other mementos from the day you drove a race car.

As I left the track (in my Prius), I was still on “Cloud Nine.” It was a real adrenaline rush for me. My arms knew they had received a good workout that day, wrestling that race car through the turns. I wasn’t out there long enough to develop any blisters, but the next time I sign up for something like this, I think I will bring along my own pair of gloves, just to enhance the visual effect. After all, real racers don’t drive bare handed!

I had a blast and look forward to doing it again someday. I hope that I can maintain my health and continue to do adventures like this for many years to come. It is a way to keep my youth by revisiting my childhood dreams. If you have an interest in auto racing, I’d strongly encourage you to give this a try.

My First Indy 500

[I wrote the essay below as my entry into a contest that the Indianapolis Motor Speedway is running. If you read this before August 30, 2014, I would encourage you to go directly to the speedway’s website where you can read and cast your vote (with the small red button at the top) to help me win this contest. There are a few different pictures on this page that aren't on the contest entry, so feel free to check out both pages. Thanks in advance for your support!]

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My earliest Indy 500 memories date back to 1963, when a driver with an odd first name—Parnelli Jones—caught my attention, even though I wasn’t even in school yet. Throughout the ‘60s and ‘70s, our family tradition on Memorial Day in West Virginia was to wash our vehicles, and then wax them in the shade of the big tree in the side yard, all while listening to the race on a local AM radio station. In more recent years, watching the Indy 500 on television was my “must see TV.” The radio and TV coverage was always supplemented by Chris Economaki and his reporters in our weekly copy of National Speed Sport News.

Parnelli's winning car from 1963.

I can even remember sneaking a small transistor radio with an earphone into my grade school so I could listen to the 1967 Indy 500 that had been delayed by rain. I was fascinated by the STP Turbine, which was being driven by Parnelli Jones. Even though I was in the classroom, I had to hear if he would win the race in that exotic car of the future. I was dismayed when the car broke just a few laps from the finish.

Parnelli's STP Turbine that nearly won in 1967. It is displayed in the museum in a garage from that era.

However, despite this long history of interest in the Indy 500, for various reasons I had never attended one. Yes, I had made a point to stay at the old Speedway Motel and visit the museum in 1985 when I was passing through Indianapolis, but it was in March—not May. I had been fortunate to see a couple of other IndyCar races at different tracks over the years, but never “the big one.”

This year, I decided the time was right to cross the Indy 500 off my “bucket list.” I started researching on-line about attending. Originally I thought I might only be able to get over to Indianapolis for Saturday and Sunday, so I decided to get a tent camping permit and just sleep in my car (I assumed hotels would be costly and/or booked, plus that guaranteed me a parking spot close to the speedway). I called the IMS ticket office and spoke with a helpful woman named Carol, who was able to get me a fantastic seat in Box B, under the roof, where the track begins to curve into Turn One (along with the two-day camping permit and a ticket to Legends Day). I was very excited about making this purchase but kept my fingers crossed that there would not be a rainout.

As the Memorial Day weekend drew closer, it became apparent that my work situation would allow me to take some additional time off. I was even lucky enough to get a decent motel room at the last minute for Thursday and Friday nights. So I left work at lunch on Thursday, bound for a big Indianapolis weekend. I drove into the Indiana State Fairgrounds in time to watch the Hoosier Hundred on the one-mile dirt track. It turned out to be a fun race at a classic track, and a great way to kick off my Indy weekend.

This car was driven in the Hoosier Hundred by Jarrett Andretti (the next big Andretti driver?). His dad, former driver John Andretti, is in the black shirt leaning against the door to the trailer.

On Friday, I joined the masses trying to get into the free parking on Carb Day in the infield (my first taste of just how “big” the crowds are). Unfortunately, I didn’t make it through the tunnel and get parked in time to see the vintage cars take their laps, but I could hear them—plus I knew I’d get a second chance on Legends Day. I had a blast on Carb Day, strolling through the vintage pits behind the museum, gazing from the stands to watch the last IndyCar practice, walking through the FanZone area, eating a smoked turkey leg, sitting on a grassy knoll on the backstretch for the amazingly close Indy Lights race, observing part of the pit crew competition, roaming through the garage area (it was open to the public that afternoon), and watching the truck races up in the fourth turn. I had a terrific time all day long at IMS, but then I topped it off by driving over to the Indianapolis Speedrome to watch a regional midget race plus my first Figure-8 races (those guys are crazy!).

Figure-8 racing at the Speedrome.

On Saturday morning, I arrived early to my designated camping area and was escorted to my assigned spot. After parking, I headed over to the speedway, showed my ticket at the gate, and then walked through a tunnel underneath the frontstretch. I spent the day roaming the grounds again, attended the “drivers meeting,” and got some great pictures of the vintage cars on the racetrack. It was amazing to actually witness so many cars that I had enjoyed seeing pictures of over the years actually running on the track—especially to see (and hear) those STP turbines!

One of the 1968 STP Turbines whooshing by on the track.

That afternoon I revisited the museum for the first time since 1985, and especially loved the special exhibition on turbine cars. I also discovered the photography shop hidden away on the second floor. Before leaving the track, I also enjoyed the interview session with Mario Andretti in the plaza. Because I formerly worked for NASA, I liked the part where astronaut Kevin Ford gave Mario the toy version of his 1969 winning car that he had taken with him in space.

Mario's only Indy 500 victory was in this car back in 1969.

I left the track so that I could visit my fourth different racetrack within 48 hours (!), by driving to Lucas Oil Raceway for the “Night before the 500” races. ESPN used to broadcast races from this track, which helped launch the careers of Jeff Gordon, Tony Stewart, Ryan Newman, and others. Plus, it was good to see the adjoining dragstrip where the big NHRA races are held each Labor Day.

I got back to my campsite late that evening, set up my car for sleeping, and had a restful night—until the sound of helicopters (probably providing early traffic reports) woke me up at dawn. I got my car reconfigured and then got organized with everything (ticket, official souvenir program, binoculars, that handy “spotters guide” which provides a quick reference to the paint scheme for each car, seat cushion, etc.) I was taking into the racetrack for the big day.

I took a circuitous route from my campsite, so that I could get a taste of the pre-race atmosphere as the hordes descended on the racetrack. One group of jokers had set up a water hose with a shower head on an elevated pole, offering “FREE SHOWERS”—except the fine print indicated it was only offered to women. Eventually, I entered through the gate and discovered that I didn’t need to take the tunnel under the track—they had a gate open which allowed folks to cross the racetrack itself. I felt like I was on hallowed ground as I lingered, soaking up as much of that unique visual perspective as I could. In a few hours, the race cars would be zooming across this same pavement!

Standing on the track on the morning of the race looking up towards the start/finish line.

I wandered around the garage and Gasoline Alley areas, watching as crews were making their last minute preparations. I walked back through the plaza area and then towards the fan zone, but noticed an area that I had not visited the previous two days. There was a lane behind the plaza where all the team haulers were parked, and on this day it wasn’t fenced off, so I strolled through, enjoying the paint jobs on these big trailers.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a speeding golf cart make a turn to cut right in front of me. To my surprise, just a few feet away from me was none other than the legendary A.J. Foyt himself, who was making a run back to the team hauler for something. I didn’t say anything to him (since he seemed to be in a hurry), but it was a neat moment for me to literally “cross paths” with him on race day. He might not be driving a race car anymore, but he sure knows how to whip around in a golf cart!

Eventually I headed back to my seat to get ready for the big day. There is so much that goes on at Indy that one never sees on TV. The amount of logistical planning and organizational skills it takes to put on “The Greatest Spectacle in Racing” is phenomenal. Here are just a few of my personal highlights from the pre-race ceremonies:

· Purdue University marching band’s “World’s Largest Drum.”
· Colts QB Andrew Luck’s arrival by helicopter to deliver the green flag. [His dad played at WVU when I was a student there, and now serves as the WVU Athletic Director, so most West Virginians are also big Andrew Luck fans.]
· The parade of former race winners, as well as a few selected vintage cars from the museum.
· All three of the 1968 wedge STP turbines, lined up for a three-abreast parade lap.
· Jim Nabors was in the back of one of the pace cars, and our area of the grandstands was where it pulled out onto the track. Before the track announcer had introduced him, folks sitting in our section recognized him and started cheering. He was overwhelmed with this spontaneous outpouring of affection.
· Listening to Florence “Mrs. Brady” Henderson sing “God Bless America.”
· Seeing the school kids unfurl the huge Star Spangled Banner inside Turn One.
· Fortunately, the roof that kept the sun off me did not prevent me from witnessing the flyover by the military jets, which is always exciting to me.
· Hearing “Back Home Again in Indiana” sung by “Gomer Pyle” for the final time made me misty eyed. Aside from the state song of my native West Virginia, “Back Home Again in Indiana” is the only other state song that I know—which is the result of hearing it once each year for the past 50 years or so.
· Seeing the thousands of multi-colored balloons take off from the far side of the track. Most events quit releasing balloons because of environmental concerns (which I understand), but I enjoyed seeing it one more time.
· Watching the traditional “Start Your Engines” command on the videoboard. It was cool that Jim Nabors got to do it with Mrs. George this time.

The view from my seat of Turn 1 and the unfurling of the giant flag.

Soon, it was time for the race to start—and what a race it was! It was 3/4 complete before a caution flag came out. I enjoyed my seat in the shade—I could see nearly all the way up the frontstretch, all of turn one as well as the short chute, and the lower end of pit road. Much of the passing occurred near my area, and I had a close look at the unfortunate incident that took out pole sitter (and apparent hometown favorite) Ed Carpenter.

My view of the action in the pits.

I had a wonderful time at my first Indy 500! I discovered what the phrase “Hoosier hospitality” means. I also got lucky with fantastic weather the whole weekend. It was nice to finally accomplish this “bucket list” event.

Some folks say “Why bother going to the race when you can see it better on TV?” Well, the tradition and pageantry of this race makes it very special, beyond any other racing event. Plus, there are lots of battles that take place further back in the pack that you never get to see on TV, because of their incessant focus on the leaders. I also enjoy the “art” of auto racing, and I pick out cars I like based on their paint jobs—watching on TV doesn’t give you the ability to really see the variety of colors and designs, and then focus on your favorite ones. While it is true that you can’t see the whole track, the videoboards help to show you what you miss. Finally, to enhance my experience I brought a radio so that I could listen to “The Greatest Spectacle in Racing”—just like I did as a kid.

I should never have waited five decades to see it in person!

The tail of a beautiful front-engine roadster in the vintage pits..

Everettville Miners Memorial

West Virginia has suffered more than its share of coal mine tragedies. Recent years have brought us the sadness and drama of the Upper Big Branch and Sago mine disasters. Others might recall the 78 men who perished at Farmington in 1968.

Unfortunately, there were many other disasters in our history as well--perhaps the best known being the Monongah explosion on December 6, 1907. I can remember that exact date because I visited the Monongah cemetery in Marion County and saw the oddity of many markers repeating the exact same date of death. Although it was the largest disaster with nearly 400 casualties, few folks know about it today.

We’ve had several other mine tragedies that claimed triple-digit casualties, including Benwood (Marshall County), Eccles (Raleigh County), and Layland (Fayette County). Countless other deadly accidents have taken many other men and yet most have been forgotten. However, one community in southern Monongalia County is working to honor the memory of the Everettville mine disaster victims.

On April 30, 1927, an explosion ripped through the Federal #3 mine at Everettville, killing at least 91 men (some researchers say the total should be 111). It had such ferocity that the explosion blew out from the entrance portal in the side of the hill and destroyed the adjoining tipple, killing another half a dozen workers who weren’t even underground at the time. A few of the miners were trapped underground, but were able to survive for a few hours. They had time to write notes to their loved ones, which were found when the bodies were recovered.

Too often history gets forgotten as those who lived through it pass away. One determined woman who lived in Everettville had not been aware of the mine disaster, but upon finding out felt compelled to memorialize the victims. Carol Thorn organized a group and they formed a non-profit, set up a website, sought donations (including the land from the coal company), and reached out to nearby West Virginia University. History students helped to research the story, and landscape architect majors worked on designs for a memorial and a park at the mine site. A West Virginia historical roadsign has also been placed along nearby Route 19.

A songwriter from Morgantown created a special song for the project. It was based on one of the actual letters written by a miner who had survived the initial blast but was trapped underground. Henry Russell wrote to his wife using only a piece of coal and the remnants of an empty paper bag for cement. The song is a hauntingly beautiful story of a dying man’s last thoughts.

We had the honor to attend the memorial service on a beautiful spring day this past weekend, marking 87 years since this tragedy occurred. The fancy black granite memorial includes the names of 149 men who died over all the years this mine operated, not just the 111 names from 1927. In addition to various speakers, a folk music trio performed the Henry Russell song. The whole ceremony was a fitting tribute to the memories of these fallen miners.

We didn’t know any of the victims and had never been to Everettville. Our only tie was that we love our native state of West Virginia and happened to be in Morgantown when we heard about this event. We wanted to acknowledge and honor these victims, while supporting those who strive to ensure that their memory will not be lost.

[This story appeared in the June 2014 issue of Two-Lane Livin' magazine.]

My Top 10 Books

A friend asked me on Facebook to list my ten favorite books I have read, which is not an easy task for me. I do a lot of reading—Internet, periodicals, newspapers, etc.—but I don’t read as many books as I have good intentions of doing. Perhaps when I retire I will get caught up on my desired book reading.

You will note from my list that I am one of the few who prefer non-fiction over fiction. Even as a child, I was always too interested in learning real stuff that would teach me something than to waste time reading something that someone else just made up out of thin air. I think it started in elementary school because I loved reading biographies (such as the Landmark series published by Random House in the ‘50s and ‘60s). Likewise, I also prefer movies and television shows based on reality over fiction.

Another problem with such a reading list is that as an adult, I’ve listened to more books than I have read. There are a number of books that I have truly loved, such as “Tuesdays with Morrie” or Homer Hickam’s “Rocket Boys” and subsequent books of the Coalwood Trilogy. I especially enjoy listening to authors such as Doris Kearns Goodwin, Tom Brokaw, or David McCulloch reading their own historical books. I also enjoy listening to science books such as “A Brief History of Time” by Dr. Stephen Hawking.

So here is my list of ten books I have read out of many that have impacted me.

1. “Everything in its Path—Destruction of Community in the Buffalo Creek Flood” by Kai T. Erickson – A friend from grad school gave me this book and I really loved the way it took a real disaster and used it as a sociological examination of West Virginia.

2. “Sign-Talker—the adventures of George Drouillard on the Lewis and Clark Expedition” by James Alexander Thom – I call this “semi-fiction.” The author used historical documents to weave together the story of the expedition as one member saw it. [Another favorite of mine in this historical novel genre is “The Frontiersmen” by Allan W. Eckert.]

3. “The Persistence of Vision” by John Varley – A guy I worked with at NASA was a big science fiction fan, and he was surprised that with my interest in space stuff, I had never got into the science fiction world. He insisted that I read this book (a collection of Varley’s works). I read and liked it a lot, and I still have fond memories of it, but it didn’t flip the switch to make a science fiction fanatic. I simply prefer non-fiction to fiction.

4. “The High Frontier” by Gerald K. O'Neill – I was in college when I read this paperback about the potential for space stations and colonies. Some may call it fiction, but I see it as more reality based (even though it hasn’t happened yet). This book gave me hope for the long-term future and I still dream about the possibilities.

5. “The World Without Us” by Alan Weisman – A fascinating and scientifically based story of what would happen to NYC (and other civilized areas) if humans were to suddenly disappear from Earth (how we disappear isn’t important—this is about the aftermath).

6. “Lee—The Last Years” by Charles Bracelen Flood – A professor at WVU loaned his copy of this book to read. I am a descendent of several Union soldiers, so I probably have a bias against the Confederates, but this biography gave me a whole new respect for Robert E. Lee.

7. “Rebels at the Gate” by W. Hunter Lesser – A well done book focusing on the first years of the Civil War. Most folks don’t realize how the eyes of the nation were on West Virginia during those early days. My uncle recommended this book and loaned me his copy to read.

8. “Schrapnel in the Heart” by Laura Palmer – This book is about the letters and mementos left at the Vietnam Memorial in Washington. The author delves into the sad stories, resulting in a book that stays with you a long time.

9. “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave” by Frederick Douglass – I read this book and participated in a discussion group about it at our local library. It was very eye-opening to read his story, and even more enlightening to share reactions with other community members. Someday I will do more of these group readings.

10. An unknown book from our local library that I read about helicopters probably when I was around middle school age. It had detailed explanations about how helicopters work and how to fly them. I still remember this book to this day, because it gave me the self-confidence that if I ever had to fly a copter (for whatever reason), I could probably figure out the basics. Whenever I get the rare opportunity to look inside a helicopter cockpit, I try to assess how I would fly it. I guess you could say this book gave “flight” to my imagination.

Note that some folks who know of my interest in motorcycles and intellectualism might have suspected that Robert Pirsig’s “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” would have been on my list. I did read it, but was extremely disappointed in it—I had high hopes for it and yet I just didn’t connect to it like I thought I would. I am glad that some folks like it, but to me that book was just too plodding for my tastes.

I should also use this opportunity to share my favorite “Read Aloud” book. At various times (such as during my tenure on the school board), I have read books to elementary school classes. My favorite book for such occasions is “The Rest of the Story” by Paul Harvey. These short stories are very entertaining, and are all true!

Finally, one book that I cherish is my copy of the Jeffersonian Bible from the Smithsonian gift shop. Thomas Jefferson “cut and pasted” (with a blade and glue, not with a computer as we have today) the Gospels to clarify the life and morals of Jesus. I didn’t put it on my “top ten” list because I haven’t read it from cover to cover, but it was a gift that means a lot to me.

So after more than a thousand words, I guess I’ve nearly written a book just to tell my ten favorites!

My Rustic/Regal Weekend

I left work a bit early last Friday afternoon to meet Anna at her brother's place for a couple of days. On my way to Fayette County, I crossed over the Kanawha City Bridge in Charleston to travel MacCorkle Avenue and reminisce about my college days at UC. Staying on that side of the river, it is known as West Virginia Route 61.

At Pratt, I turned up Paint Creek Road to continue explore this intriguing waterway (see my recent essay about Paint Creek). There are several pulloff areas along the road to enjoy this creek. I went as far as the entrance to the West Virginia Turnpike before doubling back.

The highlight for me were the two historical markers commemorating Holly Grove, the site of a tent colony established by striking miners after being forcibly evicted from their houses owned by the mining company. The coal mine owner and others ran an armored train up the Paint Creek valley, which was outfitted with an early machine gun. They shot up the tent colony. Fortunately, the miners (some of whom had served in World War I) had dug out the area under their tents--a bit like having your own foxhole. As a result, only one miner was actually killed (although others were wounded). This event had the potential to be an infamous massacre of miners, women, and children, but fortunately most were spared.

I stayed on the south side of the Kanawha and followed Route 61 to Montgomery, which I had traveled in the past. However, for the first time I stayed on Route 61 beyond Montgomery rather than crossing over to Route 60 on the north side of the river at Smithers. It was interesting to see the backside view of the old Union Carbide plant at Alloy. [By the way, other interesting views from Route 61 include a unique head-on look at the locks and dam at London on the Kanawha River as well as a more complete view of the large mining operation west of Smithers.]

Soon thereafter, the highway came to an abrupt switchback turn, and began climbing out of the Kanawha Valley. Eventually it follows Loup Creek, a beautiful mountain stream, with several scenic views.

Route 61 ends at Oak Hill, where it intersects Route 16. I've written before about Route 16--one of my favorite roads in West Virginia. It runs from the Ohio River at St. Marys (near my home) to the Virginia state line beyond Homer Hickam’s hometown of Coalwood.

Anna had not been able to get away from her work as early as she had hoped, so I found myself with time to kill before we met. Other stops during that Friday in Fayette County included such iconic sites as the New River Gorge Bridge overlook and the Grist Mill along Glade Creek at Babcock State Park.

I also made a stop at Class VI outdoor adventure center (where we have ziplined and rafted several times) to check out their new TimberTrek Aerial Adventure Park. It is a forest of trees interconnected with cable-based passages through a variety of obstacles. I'm debating whether I should try it out someday. It appears to me to be more strenuous than regular ziplining or even the Via Ferrata. While there, I also walked over to the Class VI overlook into the gorge, and remembered stopping there on last year's trip with my college friends.

Then it was time for me to leave the main roads and venture miles into the back country where her brother and sister-in-law live. It is so far out in the country that they have no cell service there. They have electricity and other amenities, but it was a weekend "off-the-grid" for my smartphone (Facebook survived just fine without my monitoring and occasional contributions).

One of the highlights of the weekend was hiking through the woods on the side of a hill looking primarily for morel mushrooms, but also for ramps. We were ultimately unsuccessful, but it was still a joy (and a workout) to hike through the forest. Also while visiting them, I always enjoy inspecting the creek on their property (which eventually feeds into the Gauley River), looking for crawdads, minnows, and other interesting aquatic life.

On this particular trip, we provided some help on the farm. Five cows got loose on Saturday by damaging some fence, and we scampered up and down the wooded hillside herding them back to the pasture. This led to some quick fence repairs at the field where they had wintered, and then to the electrification of the fence at the pasture where they would be moved for the spring. After working to secure the fencing at the new field, it was time to move the herd on Sunday.

This project involved marching the cattle about a mile down the little road to the other field. In those old western movies, a cattle drive is always done on horseback. But we did it with a four-wheeler, a pick-up truck, along with Anna and me walking alongside. It was quite an operation and we were glad to be able to help out.

It was a wonderful visit with family in a beautiful part of the state on a sunny, blue-sky weekend! However, on this particular Sunday afternoon, we didn't drive straight home. We had made plans to extend our weekend a bit longer. We were going to make the jump from rustic to regal by staying a night at the luxurious Greenbrier Resort. I bet we were probably the only guests there who had spent the day on a “cattle drive” before checking into the hotel. It is worth a separate story all its own, but I'm going to just append these two together.

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I've always had mixed emotions about the Greenbrier. I'm proud that it is in West Virginia, and I admire its long history. I've also come to appreciate their contributions to the menu at the Tamarack Visitor Center along the West Virginia Turnpike--in particular, their fried green tomato sandwiches. I just never thought that I'd ever end up staying in such an expensive place. I worried that it was a bit too "hoity-toity" for my tastes (and wallet).

Several years ago, a native West Virginian who became a billionaire in the coal business purchased the Greenbrier, and has been using his talents to take the resort to new levels. For example, Jim Justice worked with West Virginia's Jerry West to remake the fancy restaurant here in his honor (by the way, Justice is also coach of the Greenbrier East High School's basketball teams).

He worked to get a major golf tournament established here, and also got the Legislature to approve a casino and a medical institute for the Greenbrier. He is building football fields where the New Orleans Saints will hold their summer training camp this year. He has done many other things to improve and promote the Greenbrier as well as our state. One way has been to offer occasional discount programs to West Virginia residents.

I had missed my chance to take advantage last year when I first learned of the promotion for West Virginia residents. However, when I heard that he was offering a special in April and May with an $89 room rate (note, however, that there is also a $35 daily "activity fee" that all guests must also pay) plus a free ticket to one of the big concerts (Maroon 5 or Jimmy Buffett) he sets up at the State Fairgrounds in nearby Lewisburg during his golf tournament, we decided to give it a try. We've always enjoyed Jimmy Buffett's music (plus, his college roommate taught at UC), but had never been to one of his concerts. Now by coming back to the area in July, we would get the chance!

There were a few other reasons why I had become more interested by the Greenbrier. I had read a fascinating book about Robert E. Lee's final years after the Civil War, which told of how much he loved spending summers here and gave a glimpse into the history of White Sulphur Springs. Also, my college mentor, Dr. Evelyn Harris, was quite fond of the Greenbrier. Finally, the fact that it was to be the secret hiding place for Congress in the event of a nuclear attack was very intriguing.

It was about 6:00 PM when we finally arrived, having taken a scenic ride across the Midland Trail (U.S. Route 60), down Sewell Mountain, and along Meadow River through Rainelle, Charmco, and Rupert before getting on the Interstate. Eventually we arrived at the Greenbrier where we registered, parked in the self-parking lot (we had to walk a lot further, but saved paying for the valet parking), and finally made it to our room.

It is grand old hotel that is decorated to the hilt. It is a far cry from my typical Holiday Inn Express (but the Greenbrier doesn’t offer free cinnamon rolls for breakfast). Rather than deal with the dress code expectations and the expensive prices, we decided to walk—through the impeccably landscaped grounds and past the famous sulphur water springhouse where it all began—back to our car and drive into downtown White Sulphur Springs to eat.

Using our smartphones to see what our dining options were, we decided to try a place called "50 East" (a rather odd name for a restaurant along Route 60, but it is based on the actual address--50 East Main Street). We enjoyed a gourmet pizza (jerk chicken, artichoke, mushroom, and banana peppers) which was quite tasty--and much more reasonably priced than anything at the resort. Afterwards, I had Wendy's Frosty for dessert (I decided to ignore my diet and be decadent since we were splurging by staying at the Greenbrier) while Anna made a quick stop for a few things at Dollar General. As you can see, we don't quite fit the consumer profile for most of the Greenbrier's clientele.

We got back in time to head down to the Greenbrier Theater in time for their main movie of the night (after all, I wanted to recoup some of my $35 activity fee). It just happened to be last year's remake of "The Great Gatsby" starring Leonardo DiCaprio. How ironic was it for my one night at the Greenbrier Resort to be spent watching a movie about the excesses of rich people during the Roaring '20s?

I was in junior high when the original "Gatsby" movie with Robert Redford came out. I was beginning to pay attention to current culture and Gatsby was getting lots of buzz, so I decided that I was going to read the book. However, I am much more interested in non-fiction than I am in fiction, so I got bored with the story and never finished it. In part because of my "failure" to finish the book, I never bothered to watch the original movie or the recent remake when it came out last year. So more than four decades later, inside the luxurious Greenbrier, I finally learned the story of "The Great Gatsby."

We enjoyed sleeping in rather than going to work on Monday morning. Eventually we got showered and dressed, packed up all our stuff, schlepped it down the hill to the car, and returned to officially check out. However, our time at the Greenbrier was not over yet. We had made reservations for the 10:30 historical tour of the Greenbrier, as well as the 1:30 tour of the secret bunker under the ground where Congress would continue to operate if a nuclear war had begun. Not only were we interested in these educational tours, the first tour was also another way to recoup that $35 activity fee!

The historical tour was very interesting, but it only covers the ground floor of the hotel. There is so much history here that I bet it would be impossible to cover everything in a whole day, much less the hour or so that this tour lasted. I’m really glad we did it, because it gives you a very good background on the hotel (for example, I learned there are 600 rooms in the hotel and 100 guest cottages on the grounds, and that it employs about 1800 people) as well as its furnishings. We got to see such highlights as the chandelier from “Gone with the Wind” and the painting of Princess Grace from Monaco. We learned much more about famed New York designer Dorothy Draper and her successor, Carleton Varney (who has been a UC supporter).

After the morning tour, we took a quick walk-through of the casino just to check it out. Neither of us had ever been bit by the gambling bug, so we didn’t play anything—we just wanted to check it out while we were there. Then we hopped into the car and drove into town for another cheap meal, this time at April’s Pizzeria in White Sulphur Springs (a decent $5.99 pizza and salad bar lunch buffet). Upon our return to the Greenbrier, we took a little driving tour around the cottages, homes, and other facilities on the grounds, before parking and heading back inside.

Our final activity was the $30 bunker tour (unlike the history tour, this one is not included in the Activity Fee). During the Cold War, the Greenbrier was chosen as the gathering place for all Senators and Congressman, where the government would continue to operate in the event of a nuclear attack. It was secretly built underground with huge blast-proof doors, thick concrete walls, diesel generators, water and food supplies, and everything needed for the 535 members of Congress, their families, and select staffers to survive a doomsday scenario. Fortunately, it was never needed, although the 1962 Cuban missile crisis came close to seeing it activated. The tour was a fascinating look back at the Cold War era (although just like our recent tour of the Toyota factory, cameras are not allowed), and was led by a retired local teacher who did a marvelous job.

One of the things I liked about my stay at the Greenbrier was how friendly and helpful everyone was. For example, we walked out to the front of the hotel to take pictures, and one of the groundskeepers (his name was Lonnie) walked over and offered to take pictures of both of us with the hotel in the background. So many employees would walk by you in the hallways and greet you with a big smile! It made me feel good to see all of these fellow West Virginians who were being so friendly to all the visitors.

In a way, the Greenbrier is a bit like a cruise ship that somehow ran aground in the mountains of West Virginia. The smiling and helpful staff, the luxurious furnishings, the interesting excursions that are offered, the casino, the little shops, etc., are all reminiscent of my experiences on cruises. However, the Greenbrier has more of a stately elegance—it harkens back to the grand cruise liners of old, such as the transatlantic crossings of the QE2, rather than a Carnival “fun ship” in the Caribbean.

I’m grateful that thanks to this special $89 offer, I was able to stay at the Greenbrier and experience its beauty and history. I’m glad it is located in West Virginia, and that it is a good ambassador for our state to so many visitors (many of whom are important people who would not otherwise come to visit West Virginia). It is important for outsiders to see the rugged beauty of our mountains and forests, and for them to see the goodness of our people.

Who knows—I might even come back and stay again someday! There is certainly much more to see and do than we were able to fit into this short visit. Until then, I hope Mr. Justice and the hard working folks at the Greenbrier continue the good work they do.

One of the massive vault doors for the bunker that was hidden behind some "busy" wallpaper (the only photo allowed on the bunker tour).

North Bend Rail Trail

The North Bend Rail Trail (NBRT), the 72 mile former B&O railroad line from Parkersburg to Wolf Summit (a small community just west of Clarksburg), has been getting some good news lately. Grant money has been secured for maintenance to the eastern portion of the trail in Doddridge and Harrison Counties. Meanwhile, Parkersburg and Wood County officials are working towards connecting the current western terminus at Happy Valley Road to the “Point” at the confluence of the Little Kanawha and Ohio Rivers. It won’t happen immediately but at least they are making some progress.

There are about a dozen railroad tunnels and about three dozen bridges on the NBRT, which help to make the ride interesting (as if the natural scenery, wildlife, and history were not enough on their own). In Ritchie County, the trail runs through the edge of North Bend State Park, and thus was added to the park’s responsibilities.

The trail crosses under Route 50 at Ellenboro, Smithburg, and Bristol, and can be seen at numerous other locations along the highway (see the picture below for an example). When the leaves are off the trees, if you know where to look you can see the “black hole” where it veers from the roadside and into a tunnel on the side of a hill near Sherwood.

The area around North Bend State Park has always been the most heavily used (and best maintained), from Cairo (a quaint old town) on the west to Ellenboro (with its modern wooden bridge over Rt. 16) east of the park. It is convenient for folks to come to North Bend for easy access to the trail at the point where for over 130 years the westbound trains would emerge from a tunnel to cross the Bonds Creek bridge. Now bicyclists can choose to venture either direction from this point, and can even enjoy an ice cream snack at either Cairo or Ellenboro before pedaling back to the park.

I was very familiar with the Wood County portion of the trail, having ridden as far as the Eaton tunnel and back numerous times. I had also taken family and friends to North Bend for rides through Ritchie County. However, several years ago I decided I wanted to explore the whole trail.

I started by riding all the way to Cairo and back to cover the entire western end of the trail. Then I drove to Ellenboro one Saturday morning and rode to West Union and back. On another Saturday, I parked my car in downtown West Union (after exploring the beautiful old courthouse there) and rode to the eastern terminus. Upon completion of that trip, I had ridden on the entire trail—but not all on the same day.

Then a friend of mine was driving to Morgantown from Parkersburg, and agreed to give me the transportation I needed to try riding the NBRT in a single day. She met me at the Happy Valley end where I left my car, and took me and my bicycle to Wolf Summit that morning. I spent the rest of that beautiful day alone on a 72 mile westward trek back home. It was a glorious adventure! I was tired when I made it to my car, but the sense of accomplishment was worth it!

Now whenever I am driving along Route 50 where it is possible to view the NBRT, I remember what it was like that warm summer day, looking at the traffic whizzing by as I pedaled my way home. If you get the chance, you should give this bike trail a try (but you don’t have to do it all in one day).

In a scene easily visible from Route 50, Tenmile Creek and Marshville Road both squeeze underneath this bridge carrying the North Bend Rail Trail near the eastern terminus in Harrison County, WV.
[A shorter version of this story appeared in the May issue of Two-Lane Livin' magazine (http://www.twolanelivin.com/).]

Paint Creek—Finally

As a kid, it was always a big event to travel on the West Virginia Turnpike (the real road, not the little cars that kids could drive at Camden Park in Huntington—although that was fun, too!). My turnpike experiences usually happened during our once-a-summer vacation at the beach.

Growing up around two farm ponds and near a couple of creeks, I have always been fascinated with water. I especially enjoy fast flowing streams. I loved watching out my back seat car window while heading south on the Turnpike at Cabin Creek first (famous as the home of basketball legend Jerry West), and then (after passing through the old Memorial Tunnel) eventually Paint Creek. I was enamored with the rapids visible on Paint Creek as it danced downhill alongside the highway.

As a kid, I told myself that someday when I was adult, I was going to get off the turnpike and explore that creek. Later on as a college student, Paint Creek took on a new significance when I learned about the labor struggles in the coalfields, including an infamous incident when a passing train machine-gunned the tents of striking coal miners along Paint Creek. It was also in college that I learned of the colorful character Mother Jones, and she had trudged along this very creek.

Unfortunately, it seemed that (just like my busy father) I never had the luxury of extra time during my adult travels on the Turnpike. However, I recently found myself with the opportunity to finally get a close-up view of at least a small portion of Paint Creek.

I jumped off onto Route 612 at the Mossy Exit, and quickly encountered three historical markers next to the creek. It turns out that there is a Paint Creek Scenic Driving Tour, complete with markers providing historical information. I soon turned off Route 612 onto the small county road that follows the creek upstream to the community of Pax (the next turnpike exit roughly six miles south).

There were a number of pull off areas along this county road, and fishermen were utilizing some of them (I later learned that Paint Creek is one of the waterways that the West Virginia Department of Natural Resources stocks with trout each spring). The creek is even prettier when you are meandering along the little road close by the water instead of flying by at 70 MPH up on the four-lane. There are lots of rocks of all sizes, laurel thickets, deep green pines, and white barked tree trunks, as well as the constant downhill cascades of the water itself.

I learned from the historical markers that long before the Turnpike, Paint Creek was also a major "highway" for American Indians. Its gradual ascent from the Kanawha River at Pratt to the Appalachian highlands near Beckley was widely used by many tribes. They often stripped the bark from trees to provide a background to paint colorful drawings about their trip or their hunting successes. When white men first discovered this creek, they referred to it as "Painted Tree Creek" which later was shortened to Paint Creek (I had always wondered how it got its name).

Although I only had enough extra time to see a small portion of Paint Creek (plus a quick side trip to nearby Plum Orchard Lake), I saw enough to pique my interest. I have since explored the website for the Paint Creek Scenic Trail (http://www.paintcreekscenictrail.com) and will definitely be back to see the entire route, from Beckley to the Kanawha River—and I won’t wait near as long to act on that vow this time.

A glimpse of Paint Creek just upstream from the Mossy exit. By the way, this story was also published (with a better picture of Paint Creek) at 4Fayette.