Follow by Email


Tuesday, May 21, 2013


* * * * * * * * * *

The night time view from my sleepig bag on Missy's riverside veranda was spectacular.

Please say HELLO to MARCUS STONE.  Just before dark, Marcus was mowing the grass next, I introduced myself...followed by a lengthy conversation.  As darkness fell, Marcus handed me a "sack lunch"...thought you might be hungry and thirsty, say he.

Truth be told, Missy and her Son had beat Marcus to the punch...certainly did, however, appreciate the gesture and consideration.  Thank you, Marcus...and I wish you well.

Please say HELLO to this fine looking gentleman (in the cloudburst later in the day, my pocket with names written on - including the above gentleman - got so soaked, I could no longer read it).

Walking and rolling past a roadside restaurant, this gentleman came running across the parking lot...hey, hey...we saw you miles ready for breakfast?  Of course, I was already stuffed from Missy's sausage, eggs and toast with coffee.  We chatted for a few minutes anyway...that is what this walk is about...meeting new people and exchanging stories.

For the next two days, SAM and ME walked and rolled down US 60, following the increasingly larger Kanawha River through the ever wider valley.  In the upper reaches, manufactured homes were the norm...closing in on CHARLESTON, many coal shipping / storage terminals were accompanied by nearly continuous communities with homes meant to last for generations.

One fellow shared with me that his "new" manufactured home had a permanent flaw...the "seam" between the two sections constantly opened up, requiring constant plasterboard repair and refinishing.  Suggested to him that the manufacturer may have used "green" pine wood instead of kiln dried wood...i.e., as the wood dried out, it was shrinking, pulling away from the seam. 

One of the most descriptive advertising signs I have come across.

As the valley widens, communities become more permanent looking.

The bane - and riches - of the Kanawha River Valley...COAL.

Coal facilities line the river banks, waiting for the large river barges to be loaded, pushed down to the Ohio...then to the Mississippi for export.  Locals estimated to me that a good 90% of the coal mined locally was shipped to foreign customers.

DU PONT Chemical Processing Factory.

I have come to call these "historical" signs found all over SouthEast America, to be "Info-mertials"...a quick pleasing method of bringing local history alive.

Click the images to enlarge - makes for easier reading.

This is a private stern wheeler yacht cruising the Kanawha River in front of my motel for the night about 10 miles East of Charleston, W. Virginia.

Must admit...spectacular country is West Virginia...Twilight over the Kanawha River.

Looking West down the Kanawha River toward Charleston.

My humble abode for the night...during the night I received a vicious bite on the back of my left (two days later) still badly swollen and painful.  Did not see the critter, but assume it was a spider, angry at being disturbed.

Before morning sunrise, as I checked out to continue through Charleston and on to the village of HURRICANE, West Virginia...our destination for today (arriving 13 hours later, having walked and rolled some 47 miles)

Barges being pushed up the river.  There are 8 barges in this set...two rows of three, with two more hitching a ride on the port (left) side.

Close up of barge to barge connection.

The "Push Boat"...often mis-named "Tow Boat".

Missy suggested we walk and roll on the other side of the river.  Am certain it would have been quicker, but am not disappointed by our tour through the center of CHARLESTON, West Virginia.

Row Houses of a different economic level.

This is a true "River Walk"

In the recent couple weeks, we have already read "Info" about General Lewis' trek across the West Virginia Mountains to confront - and defeat - Chief Cornstalk's Indians.

Riverside apartments.

Capitol Building of West Virginia...on the banks of the Kanawha River.

Please click to enlarge...interesting history written here...such as President Lincoln's part in the creation of West Virginia

Governor's Mansion.

Looking up the skirts of the elevated Interstates.

Building Art.

Murals seem to be a significant part of city-center living.

Charleston Play House.

SAM and ME crossed over the above bridge...from city center to the South Bank of the river...finally taking Missy's advice.

Charleston, West Virginia skyline.

Privately owned Covered Bridge

Please say HELLO to BOBBI's family...Mom, Dad, and ??

As we neared the village of Hurricane, I parked SAM outside (she is not 21) while I took advantage of a "cold one" - my FIRST beer since starting this walk nearly three months ago.

Please say HELLO to bar mate...who picked up my beer $$.

Bobbi's Dad...a true West Virginia Mountaineer...yelled to the heavens (when I suggested he might be 62 - he is actually - he says...52 years old)...


Do believe, tho, that I got him to think'n about me @ near 80 - 30 years his senior - and he shuffl'n to and from here and there...

Bobbi thought I scored and got a "high five".

Route 34 through HURRICANE, West Virginia. 

The Senior Center is a couple blocks away...where I am to meet with Dallas and his friends.  I arrived rather beat up - after 13 hours on the road, including through one drenching thunder storm and one final 5-mile long STEEP hill -, so decided to head for the motel at nearby I-64 interchange. 

Tomorrow, plan to spend with Dallas...might even hang out one extra day before continuing on to Ohio some 50 miles away.  That big storm which obliterated the Oklahoma City School - resulting in massive number of children headed this way, expected to arrive within 36 hours...

...might be prudent to stay out of such a holocaust if I can.

MEMORIAL DAY is just around the corner...above display from a private home in Hurricane.

...and so, with clicking the "PUBLISH" button, we are now current with our blog update. 

To happen in Dallas' home is somehow appropriate...being MARATHON and all...


Anonymous said...

You are welling here

Anonymous said...

The fellow whose name you lost and who spoke with you outside the Restaurant at Shrewsbury was Mark Warner from northern WV. He really enjoyed talking with you. Thanks for the recognition. His wife, Norva