With a hellish work schedule of late, I was more than ready to escape for a day of backroads exploration. On Sunday, May 9, I opted for the "Seneca Rocks" route from Motorcycle Journeys through the Appalachians (second edition) by Dale Coyner. Dale's recommendations have never disappointed in the past—and this one was no exception. The tour started in Front Royal, Virginia and wound west and south through parts of West Virginia to Seneca Rocks (naturally) and then east to Harrisonburg, VA before heading back north to end in Front Royal.
I'd journeyed to Front Royal on various occasions (see Stonewall's Valley, for example), but I'd never noticed this stately home along Route 340 before.
Route 55 west of Front Royal is a beautiful—but potentially confusing—road. Just a few years ago, West Virginia built a nice interstate highway in this general vicinity and chose to call it Route 55. I remember ending up on this highway with Neil Peart and Michael Mosbach in 2007, to their complete bafflement. Thankfully, the old road is still there, and it's generally called "Old WV 55." Very clever.
Anyway, the old road winds along on its way to Seneca Rocks and offers this view of the North Fork of my old friend the Shennandoah River, with a frail-looking Nofolk Southern railroad bridge, just shy of Strasburg, VA.
On the other side of Strasburg, I found this interesting project for some enterprising BMWBMW member—presumably Jim Von Baden, since the Opel GT is nearly finished!
Every so often, Old WV 55 would cross under Highway 55. Here, the mighty Z4 sits quietly beneath the towering twin bridges across the Lost River.
The Lost River is quietly famous for winding along peacefully…
…before periodically disappearing underground and out of sight, leaving just a dry and rocky indication that there might have once been a river nearby. I thought I had finally discovered where it disappears, but after further research it proved to be one of the Lost River's disappearing tributaries. Oh well, next time.
Eventually, the Lost River reappears near Wardensville, WV. Back when people were discovering and naming rivers, however, nobody realized that it was the same river. Instead, they named it the Cacapon River. I still prefer to think of them as our ancestors did, as separate rivers. After all, the Lost River had its chance—it could have stayed above-ground if it had really wanted to. Of course, then there wouldn't be a Lost River or maybe even a Cacapon River. Instead there would be something uninteresting, like "Fred's River" all the way to the Potomac.
I parked at the Fort Run post office, general store, and real estate agency to stretch my legs. It was closed, seemingly forever.
The nearby accommodations looked a bit suspect, so I continued on.
Before long, I came to the South Branch of the Potomac River in all its scenic beauty.
I watched this goose for a few moments before realizing that it wasn't standing there stationary because it was hunting something—it was fast asleep.
West Virginia in the springtime is a-flowering and a-budding just everywhere. It's beautiful (but it does make it difficult to find a parking spot).
The last time I'd been through Petersburg, WV, it was on a motorcycle trip in the pouring rain with the Intrepid Buzz (see Return to West Virginia. This time, thankfully, the weather was sunny and clear, if a bit chilly. (Crossing the mountains with the top down, the temperature would decline to only 43º. Next time, I'm bringing the Gerbings heated jacket liner…) Parkersburg was settled in 1745 and featured numerous handsome buildings and homes.
On the west side of town, a couple of hundred feet up a hill, sits what's left of Fort Mulligan. It was built by Union troops in 1863 to help guard the South Branch Valley from the Confederates. It had stockade-style outer walls, and several "bombproofs" inside, which protected the soldiers and ammo from bombardment. The earthen walls of the bombproofs are still visible. Most of the Union expeditions in this area were supplied from Petersburg. Fort Mulligan was evacuated on January 31, 1864 due Gen. Jubal Early's advancing Confederate troops. Early's forces, which had captured 80 Union supply wagons headed for Petersburg, arrived and began a bombardment of Fort Mulligan. They shelled the daylights out of the fort for quite some time before they realized it had been abandoned… The Confederates still managed to salvage a number of cannon and more than 13,000 rounds of rifle ammunition.
Speaking of cannon, Union officer Robert P. Parrott invented the Parrott Rifle, as shown here. This "10-pounder" features the distinctive reinforcement around the breech that Parrott designed to prevent the all-too-common barrel explosions during firing. The Parrott Rifle had a usable range of 2,500 yards and was far more accurate than any of the smooth-bore cannon. Still, it had a nasty habit of exploding just ahead of the reinforced area…
Before long, Old WV 55 entered the Seneca Rocks National Recreation Area, which immediately offered many scenic sights, including this languishing hot rod coupe. (What do you say, John, a 1936 Ford 5-window?)
As you approach Seneca Rocks from the north, you get sort of a preview—namely Champe's Rocks. They're named after Sergeant John Champe, who was sent by George Washington and "Light Horse Harry" Lee (father of Robert E. Lee) to kidnap the traitor Benedict Arnold during the Revolutionary War. Champe faked a desertion from the Continental Army, made his way across enemy lines into New York City, and managed to join Arnold's army of deserters. The plot nearly worked, but ultimately failed when Arnold changed the location of his headquarters. Eventually, Champe escaped and rejoined his old unit. Here are the majestic Champe's Rocks…
…and here is Sergeant Champe, who lived nearby, courtesy of Courier & Ives.
A few miles further on, Seneca Rocks dominate the vista, rising 900 feet above Seneca Creek. The Tuscarora quartzite constituting the "razorback" cliff was formed 440 million years ago, give or take a few weeks. The notch in the middle of the formation used to be filled by an even taller peak, which collapsed in 1987. Remarkably, given the potential instability of the rocks and the litigious and cautious nature of current society, mountain climbing is permitted on Seneca Rocks (and is very popular). There's a visitor center, replaced the one that was burned by an arsonist, which in turn replaced the one that was washed away in a flood. I was afraid to go inside.
I did, however, take a look at this old farmhouse. It wasn't open when I visited, but a look through the window revealed a pretty comfy-looking main living area.
I stopped at Yokum's Vacationland, both for old time's sake and to get a sandwich for lunch. I was pleased to learn that Shirley Yokum was still going strong (enough) at 90. I was also pleased to spot this pair of BMWs in the parking lot.
From the crossroads of Seneca Rocks, I decided to temporarily venture east and visit Seneca Caverns. On the way, I crossed the South Branch of the Potomac again.
While Seneca Caverns didn't have as spectacular formations as Luray, it was nonetheless quite impressive. I enjoyed a leisurely and interesting visit, being the only visitor at 1:00.
The large "Balancing Rock" in the middle of this photo started life attached to the cave ceiling in the upper right. Fortunately, they gave me a plastic "hard hat" to wear on the tour, so I wasn't worried by the possibility of further rockfalls. (They helpfully informed me that there hadn't been an earthquake in the area since December 2008.)
More pictures from the cavern…
…including this little feller, who was just as sound asleep as the goose had been. He measured only about 2 1/2 inches long—and yes, I was really close when I took his picture.
Safely back above ground, I began climbing the mountains on the famous route 33. Many have written about this wonderful road—and I found that they were not exaggerating in the slightest. At the top, I stopped for a picture of Germany Valley, which is quite well known in its own right.
Before long, I crossed back over into Virginia and reached Harrisonburg, home of more Mennonite churches than I'd seen in my entire life up to this point, plus the Eastern Mennonite University. Although it was a beautiful town, I turned left onto route 42 to avoid the bustle of the downtown area and was rewarded with a relaxing trip back north. I particularly liked this house in Forestville.
Continuing my roundtrip back to Strasburg and Front Royal, I spotted an abandoned farm near 42 and Mountain Road that cried out for additional pictures. (At least I think it was abandoned. I did hear some noises in the distance as I hopped a couple of fences and discreetly prowled around…)
My final shot was of the St. John Episcopal Church in Rippon, a few miles south of Charles Town, WV, and the site of much fighting during the Civil War. All churches should have as many interesting and unusual characteristics as this one.
And all days should be as fun as this one was. Overall, it was a long, somewhat chilly, but energizing and exciting day of touring. I retraced some steps that I'd taken previously on the R1200GS and discovered many new ones along the way. And I doffed my hat to Dale Coyner for yet another great ride.
Rick F.