perfidy

Last Sunday, the Buckethead clan up and decided to take a roadtrip into the wilds of West Virginia. (The wilds of West Virginia being coterminous with the borders of West Virginia.) Our original destination was Spruce Knob, the highest point in WV aside from the pothead rock climbers at Seneca and over by the New River Gorge. On the way south, though, I happened to spy a sign for the Dolly Sods. Executing a 45mph ninety degree right turn, we drove up a mountain to see them.

Almost 23 years ago, I had visited this area, and it is a fascinating miniature ecosystem. The name “Dolly Sods” comes from a German immigrant family, Dahle, who once farmed in the area. They moved on, but the Americanized version of their name remained. The “Sods” appellation refers to the grassy areas that grew up in the burned out regions of the plateau. The Dolly Sods is the largest, highest plateau east of the Mississippi, and it was once a Spruce forest, though logging and subsequent fires reduced the area to a near desert. Since then, it has grown back – but the plants and animals there are more like what is generally found 1600 miles to the north in Canada – like the cold-adapted snowshoe hare.

Most of the trees have branches growing on only one side – away from the prevailing winds. Most of the ground cover is low, bushes and heath, huckleberries and blueberries. There are also huge bogs, watered by the 100 or more inches of snow that the area gets each winter. The bogs are filled with lichen and moss, and we had to warn the boy back from the edge, lest he become a permanent addition to the bog ecosystem.

The views from the edges of the plateau are incredible – there’s a hundred foot drop-off at one point, and lots of fun boulders to clamber around. There was another family there, who had a five year old daughter in tow, and Sir John-the-precocious-casanova was entranced:

John: She’s my girlfriend.
Me: Really?
John: Yes. She’s my girlfriend.
Me: Don’t you think you’re a little young to have a girlfriend?
John: Well, no
Me: Did you ask her if she wanted to be your girlfriend?
John: No. Why?
Me: You should always ask a girl before calling her your girlfriend.
John: Okay
Me: Do you know her name?
John: No, I can’t know that.

All in all, a fun and educational experience. And once we get the pictures developed, I’ll update this post. (I misplaced the cable for the digital camera, so it remains full of older pictures.

One amusing thing, and frankly the reason for the whole post, was the presence, in the middle of nowhere, a wonderful modern four lane highway that connected the Virginia border with Petersburg, WV. As we got on to the highway, and noted it’s many bridges over creeks, huge cuts through ridges, and impressive width, I said to Mrs. Buckethead, “This is one expensive road. Look how much earth they had to move to make that cut – that must have cost a shitload of money. And it connects one obscure corner of the middle of friggin’ nowhere to another even more obscure corner! I guarantee you this is the work of Robert C. Byrd.”

And as God and my wife will attest, not two minutes later we passed a discrete sign that informed us that we were traveling on the Robert C. Byrd Appalachian Highway System.