I'd been wanting to venture a bit farther afield for some time, and I finally had the opportunity for a 2-day trip into Virginia and West Virginia, following the "Highland Loop" tour from Dale Coyner's excellent book Motorcycle Journeys Through the Appalachians. Dale's routes have never failed to impress, but this one blew out all the stops.
I got a nice early start on Saturday, May 5, initially driving from Catonsville, MD to Churchville, VA. It was a pretty day, and the forecast called for only a 30 percent chance of showers. Naturally, within 5 miles of Churchville, it began to rain lightly but steadily. No problem, since I'd been planning and looking forward to this trip since early February. And besides, a certain amount of dampness can add to the photographic impact, such as with this old "out of order" bridge.
Just outside of town, I managed to locate the Hanger Mill, built by Jacob Hanger in about 1860 and, as of 2008, owned by J. Brown Hanger, then age 90. It is not clear whether he is a descendant of Jacob. (There are a lot of Hangers in this area. One of the most illustrious was James Edward Hanger.) Much of the original equipment and mechanism is in place and in good condition. Note the metal water wheel, which replaced the original wooden one in about 1920.
As you might expect, Churchville featured several churches, including Glossbrenner Methodist and Loch Willow Presbyterian (1866). Although regarded as one of the best sources of apple butter, the general store was fresh out. (Sorry, Marilyn! But thanks for the tip.)
Just outside of Churchville, beautiful sights began to appear around every corner.
This photo epitomizes what the entire first day was like. Low-lying clouds, rain, stunning vistas, old buildings, empty roads—and a thoroughly enjoyable modern roadster (even if the top stayed up most of the time).
Even when I departed from Dale's route—in this case, to find a "log cabin" grist mill—the scenery continued to be outstanding. I couldn't have asked for more.
Well, maybe I should have asked for a little less rain. Before long it was pelting down hard enough to be visible in an HDR photo.
Back in the late 1700s, Robert McCormick built the Walnut Grove farm and grist mill. This is what it looked like in the early 1900s, courtesy of the Library of Congress:
And this is what it looks like today—remarkably well-preserved and in complete working order. Back in the day, all the gears needed to operate a mill were made of wood. Not surprisingly, they needed frequent replacement.
I was thrilled to find this very unusual mill, but I didn't know the half of it. Turns out that ol' Robert had a son named Cyrus. This was his basement workshop, where he toiled to come up with a machine to help automate the harvesting of crops. At that time, it would take a farmer a full day to harvest a single acre of wheat using a scythe. In 1831, at age 22, Cyrus invented the first practical mechanical reaper. He improved upon it, patented the design, and began manufacturing. The "McCormick Reaper" revolutionized farming in the U.S. and around the world. One farmer and a helper could now harvest 12 acres a day. In 1851, the London Times wrote "The reaping machine from the United States is the most valuable contribution from abroad to the stock of our previous knowledge that we have yet discovered." In 1902, Cyrus' company became International Harvester.
With some reluctance, I left the farm and retraced my tire tracks back to Middlebrook, VA. Almost immediately I ran across evidence that, sometimes, the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence… Middlebrook, incidentally, is one of the oldest towns in this area and merits further exploration. Since the railroads (and therefore Progress) bypassed the village, many of its houses and other buildings date back as far as the late 1700s.
As you may recall, I'm a huge fan of log cabins. This one had all sorts of rustic visual appeal, even if the later brick chimney looked a bit out of place.
Route 39 winds its way through Goshen Pass, alongside the Maury River. The road itself is a delight, but on this rainy day I was content to enjoy the stunning views.
In the town of Goshen, I ran across this 1890 steel bridge across the Maury—a significant engineering feat at the time. It still stands proudly, having withstood any number of floods over the years.
The Maury River itself seemed to feature an H.G. Wells-like alien presence looking out over the treetops.
It often happens that, while driving along a road looking for a place to turn around, you run across something totally unexpected. In this case, I stumbled across Cameron Hall, which was built in about 1800. It was extensively renovated and modified sometime in the last couple of decades and now looks very little like its 1930s photo from the Library of Congress.
Alongside the railroad tracks in Goshen, the Hummingbird Inn is a beautiful (and thriving) bed and breakfast. It began life in 1780 with a single room (now the den) and was expanded substantially in 1853 using the "Carpenter Gothic" style. Eleanor Roosevelt stayed here in 1935.
Up on a hill overlooking the town, the Goshen Baptist Church has served the town since 1820. (There's still time for Cathy and Kim to attend services there.
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In a trip full of highlights, this next one really stood out. Native Americans had used the hot underground springs in this area since roughly 7000 BC. In 1761, in what is now Warm Springs, VA, this "Gentleman's Pool" was built directly over one of the springs—and the building is still standing and in use today. It is the oldest spa in the country.
With natural mineral waters at exactly 98 degrees, the pool was quite popular when I visited on this damp Saturday. There were easily 20 men in the pool, some with swim trunks. (Au naturel bathing has been the norm since, well, 1761.) The Ladies Pool came along in 1836, with (ahem) the same rules. Neither of these original structures is in the best of repair, but local efforts are underway to persuade the owners—the giant Homestead Resort—to make the necessary renovations.
The baths are now known as The Jefferson Pools, named in honor of Thomas Jefferson who spent several weeks here in 1819 "taking the waters" three times a day. Many years later, a regular visitor was Mary Ann Randolph Custis, great-granddaughter of Martha Washington and also known as Mrs. Robert E. Lee. In her later years, she suffered from severe arthritis and found the mineral baths very helpful. Because of her condition, she needed to sit in a chair and be lowered into the pool by a small crane—both of which are still present in the Ladies Pool.
This photo by Bob Brown of the Richmond Times-Dispatch shows the interior of the Gentleman's Pool. It's about 40 feet in diameter and almost 7 feet deep, and the bottom is lined with stones. Nitrogen bubbles out of the spring continuously. Note that the roof is open in the center, as seen in the reflection. Because of the depth, most bathers float about on styrofoam "noodles."
A few miles south of Warm Springs, the imposing Homestead Resort has been catering to well-heeled travellers since 1766. The current resort was built in 1901 after much of the earlier complex was destroyed by fire. Numerous U.S. Presidents have visited here, including Jefferson, Madison, Harrison, McKinley, Taft, Wilson (on his honeymoon), Coolidge, Hoover, Franklin Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon, Johnson, Carter, Reagan, Ford, G.H.W. Bush, and Clinton. (George Washington was here, too, naturally, but as a 23-year-old in 1755.) I, myself (he said, importantly) was scheduled to spend a night here in 2008, but not all plans work out (see "Number 35," A Play in One Act). On this day, I only had time for a quick picture of the resort before resuming my route.
Remember the part about how this tour was so scenic and interesting, each and every mile? Well, it just continued that way, rain or no rain.
Late in the afternoon, I crossed over into West Virginia and detoured from the Highland Loop once more, this time in search of the May Chapel. I found it, right where Google Maps had said it would be. Moreover, it appeared to be in excellent shape, despite being over 100 years old.
The chapel, however, was just an interesting landmark to help me find the real goal. Some of you will remember my unsuccessful search for an obscure former one-room schoolhouse, near Neola, WV, as documented in Almost Heaven, West Virginia. Decades ago, it had been converted to a hunting and fishing lodge and used for vacations by Frankye, her husband Howard, their children Howard Jr., Sharon, and Cathy (of "staunch Baptist" fame), and Frankye's sister, Norma. On my first attempt to find the cabin, all I had to go by was this photo, from about 1960:
Subsequently, however, Sharon had remembered that the cabin was near the May Chapel… Sure enough, there it was—virtually unchanged from 1960 and still in use as a base for a hunting and fishing club. No running water, outdoor privy, and all! Here I am, doing my best to recreate the scene from Sharon's snapshot:
Even the pump still worked. Unfortunately, the windows were covered over, just as in 1960, so I couldn't peek inside to see if the long schoolhouse chalkboards were still in place. I had an enjoyable chat with Donna, who lives in the nearest house, but she could add relatively little to what I already knew about the cabin (and she didn't have a key, darn it). I guess I'll just have to join the club!
On my way back to Route 39, I detoured down a dirt road and across a rudimentary bridge to see if there really was a Baptist church there (in case any staunch Baptists might happen across this report), and, sure enough, I found the Cochran Creek Baptist Church, built in 1909 and still thriving by the look of it.
In planning this trip, I was intrigued by the town of Minnehaha Springs, in Pocahontas County, WV. It was clearly named after the famous Indian maiden, Minnehaha (which means "waterfall" or "laughing water" in the language of the Dakotas)—but I knew nothing of her story or how it related to this town. I was disappointed to learn that there never was an actual Minnehaha; she existed only as a character in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's epic poem, Hiawatha, which took place in Minnesota. This West Virginia town apparently adopted the name of Minnehaha Springs out of admiration for the compelling story. Or perhaps in a shameless effort to promote tourism, which seems to have worked since they reeled me in! Regardless, the story of Hiawatha and Minnehaha is a classic, and it has inspired many songs, paintings, and other tributes, including this painting by William de Leftwich Dodge in 1892, titled "The Death of Minnehaha." In addition, there are dozens of other villages, forests, rivers, and even an abandoned South Pacific island named after Minnehaha, so I shouldn't be too hard on this little hamlet.
The town itself featured an abandoned general store, several abandoned houses, a few more promising signs of civilization, and this interesting building, which I assumed was a former church, now converted to use as a home.
Later research proved that the building had actually been a multi-room schoolhouse built in the early 1900s and intended to consolidate several nearby one-room schoolhouses. The local communities resisted consolidation, however, and the Minnehaha Springs school ended up being used as one more one-room schoolhouse. This photo is from 1921, courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Speaking of one-room schoolhouses, this great photo from the LoC shows what they looked like on a daily basis. Say, doesn't that kid on the left look familiar? You can just tell by looking that he was trouble. I think he became known as Wired Cur later in life…
Just 3 miles up the road from Minnehaha Springs stands the much older town of Huntersville, WV. It began as a trading post for hunters and trappers in 1821. This Presbyterian church went up in 1854, with just a single story. Note the unusual, Masonic-looking symbol gracing the tower—where's Dan Brown when you need him? As it turns out, 42 years after the church was built the local Masons cut a deal with the elders and added a second story to use as a meeting lodge. The unusual arrangement continues to this day. The church also served as a hospital and shelter for both Confederate and Union troops during the Civil War. (No, Willis, not at the same time…
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Huntersville had a number of other houses, some occupied and some not-so-much. Note that the skies were finally clearing after about 8 hours of steady rain.
Having driven from Catonsville, MD to Churchville, covered one-half of the Highland Loop tour (with side trips), found The Elusive Cabin, and rung up almost 450 miles, it was time to head for my overnight stop in Marlinton, WV, accompanied by more beautiful vistas at every turn. That's Marlinton in the distance in the second shot.
I'd stayed in Marlinton one previous time, traveling by R1200GS with the Intrepid Buzz on his Suzuki V-Strom. This time, I wanted to find the town's classic train station, which was built in 1901. I found the vicinity of the depot without trouble, but as I walked toward the station I was puzzled by the odd, bent-looking train signal in the distance.
Only when I reached the station did I realize that it had been largely destroyed by fire (in 2008, as a result of faulty wiring). The walls of one-third of the station are still standing, along with two chimneys. The signal evidently buckled from the heat of the flames. Fortunately, Allegheny Restorations of Morgantown is scheduled to begin rebuilding the station in the very near future.
After a huge dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, lima beans, applesauce, and blackberry pie at Dorie's Café, I settled in at the Old Clark Inn. Proprietors Andrea and Nelson were glad to see me, and my room was clean, comfortable, and inexpensive. (The Inn has covered parking for motorcycles, incidentally, along with air, water, and other BMW-friendly services.)
The next morning, I was off early for more exploration, fortified by hardboiled eggs, Cheerios, a muffin, banana, and orange juice.
I'd also had a fun conversation at breakfast with Kevin, who was out on a 4-day trip on his 1982 Honda Magna. His enthusiasm had withstood the previous day's showers, and he was looking forward to the Highland Scenic Highway. I was looking forward to ghost towns, Civil War battle sites, and some of the best touring roads in all of Virginia.First up was the birthplace of the famous writer Pearl S. Buck. The house was easy to find, just outside of Hillsboro, WV, and it was an impressive sight. It was built in the mid-1800s by Ms. Buck's maternal great-grandparents, and she was born here in 1892. She spent most of her childhood in China, where her parents were missionaries, and she returned there after graduating from Randolph-Macon Woman's College. She narrowly avoided death in 1927 during the infamous "Nanking Incident," hiding in a peasant family's home while her own house was looted. Her experiences in China led her to write The Good Earth, for which she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1931. Her biographies of her father and mother led to the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1938, making Pearl S. Buck one of only seven U.S. writers (and one of only two women) to have ever won both of these prestigious awards. O'Neill, Faulkner, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Bellow, and Morrison are in good company.
Leaving Hillsboro, I soon ran across the McNeel mill in Mill Point. It operated from before 1850 through 1942, originally using twin small-diameter turbine water wheels for power. The larger wooden overshot wheel was added in 1921, following flood damage. (Historical photo courtesy of Ted Hazen and the always-fascinating MillPictures.com.)
From Mill Point, I drove back to the May Chapel in the hopes of getting a look inside on this Sunday morning. I did—but it involved attending the adult Sunday School class, taught by the minister to a congregation consisting of his wife, one other parishioner, and me! Afterwards, the minister gave me a tour of the church, where Sharon and Howard Jr. used to play while on vacation. (You'll be pleased to know, Sharon, that the old organ is still there, and it still works.)
My trek next took me north, in search of a ghost town aptly named Sunset, WV. I found this "ghost bridge" along the way, and plenty of scenic vistas. The ford looked passable, despite a strong current from the prior day's rain, but it would take a vehicle with at least twice the ground clearance of a BMW Z4.
After a while, I realized that I'd either missed the ghost town or there was nothing at all left to be seen. Disappointed, I pressed on—only to find an entirely different almost-ghost town, so small that it appears not to even have a name. This extraordinary house (or is it a former church?) more than made up for missing Sunset.
Numerous other once-proud structures dotted the area, lending an air of sad beauty to the crossroads.
If you happen to see something like the next picture as you drive through this part of West Virginia, then you know you're near the famous Green Bank Radiotelescope Observatory. It's well worth a second visit, but I still had many miles to go.
Did I mention the vistas? Dale Coyner certainly has an eye for them, and they arrived in quick succession.
My favorite view of the trip came near the top of Lantz Mountain at an elevation of roughly 3,000 feet. That's tiny Hightown in the distance. (I wonder if the villagers have the feeling that they're being watched?)
This is what the road toward Hightown used to look like, years ago. This striking photo was taken by Jack Jeffers and graces the cover of his excellent book Appalachian Byways.
After miles of switchback turns, steep climbs followed by abrupt descents, and too many gearshifts and grins to count, I arrived in Monterey, VA. There I found more terrific old homes, such as this one…
…and the Highland Inn, which was built in 1903 and is one of the relatively few rural mountain resorts left in Virginia. The historic photo, from the Highland Inn website, illustrates that motoring in the 1920s was a lot more adventurous than we're accustomed to! (If you visit the website, be sure to check out the "Legends" page for some intriguing stories of ghosts, murder, mayhem, and World War II spies.)
As my trip was nearing its end, I stopped in McDowell, the site of a major Civil War battle on May 8, 1862. The town had celebrated the 150th anniversary of the battle on the day before my arrival, with engagements between large numbers of Confederate and Union "reenactors," rifle and artillery demonstrations, period church services, etc. I was sorry to have missed it, but I did happen across this stray Union bugle boy.
The Battle of McDowell is considered to be the pivotal event of Stonewall Jackson's "Valley Campaign." A month and a half earlier, Jackson had suffered his only defeat of the war at the First Battle of Kernstown—but it was an important strategical move because it drew Federal reinforcements away from the attack on Richmond. Starting with the Battle of McDowell, Jackson led the Confederate forces on a daring series of rapid strikes against the Union forces, ultimately driving more than 50,000 Union soldiers out of Virginia with only 17,000 troops at his disposal. His brilliant and decisive actions in this campaign established Stonewall Jackson's reputation as an extraordinary strategist, and they have been studied by military commanders and historians ever since.
Other than this critical battle, McDowell is most famous for maple syrup. Perhaps due to its relatively high elevation (approximately 2,100 feet), conditions are just right for maple trees. I'm told that the Sugar Tree Country Store sells tons of the tasty stuff, but it was closed when I passed through.
This garage, on the other hand, was wide open, allowing me to spot a complete 1972 Dodge Challenger coupe, complete with rare factory hood-mounted tachometer! (If only I had time for another project. Actually, any project would be more accurate.) But does this Challenger have that all-powerful 426 cubic inch Hemi engine and 4-speed transmission? It appeared to be wearing its original Hemi orange paint…
I left McDowell by negotiating a snarled, multiple-one-way intersection that was gridlocked by construction, and soon found myself in Headwaters, VA. A sign proclaimed this to be the site of the headwaters of the South Fork South Branch of the Potomac River. Having found the well-known headwaters of the North Branch (or "Upper") Potomac some years ago, I decided that I'd better have a look at the other half. With no indication of where said headwaters might be, I took a chance on State Route 616, which ran next to what I assumed was the SFSB Potomac. After a several miles of dirt road, I found a Scenic Bridge and Abandoned Farm.
The stream looked as though it could be the headwaters, being fairly narrow, but it was still much larger than the tiny trickle representing the Upper Potomac at the Fairfax Stone.
When I returned home and perused Google Maps, these Potomac headwaters proved instead to be Shaw's Fork Creek! I have no idea where the true headwaters are, but maybe Hello Kitty will make this a destination for one of her rallyes—in which case, I'm sure that someone will locate it. Back in Virginia, still ignorant of this error, I returned to Headwaters, spotted this Presbyterian church, and headed on toward Churchville to complete my loop.
Before arriving there, however, I hiked around Ford Edward Johnson a bit, admiring the remains of a mile-long network of trenches built by Confederate soldiers to defend the Shenandoah Valley, which was considered the "breadbasket of the Confederacy." "Allegheny Johnson," as the General was nicknamed, was not a young man, and this was not a choice assignment. General Johnson's story might well have ended at the trenches, keeping watch over a fort that saw minimal action, but it turned out that his role was just beginning. He and his troops fought alongside Jackson at the Battle of McDowell, where his ankle was shattered by enemy fire. He later commanded troops at Gettysburg, hobbling around with a thick walking stick and leading repeated attempts to capture Culp's Hill. He also served in the Wilderness Campaign and at Spotsylvania, and he was captured two different times by Union forces. Eventually he was imprisoned at the Old Capital Prison in Washington, where he was accused of being part of the conspiracy to assassinate President Abraham Lincoln. Those charges were dropped, once his accusers realized that he'd been imprisoned throughout the plot, and General Johnson was released in July 1865. He lived another 8 years, farming and raising awareness of the plight of wounded Civil War veterans.
Outside of Churchville, I chanced across an old house that had been partially destroyed by fire—although the canned goods in the cupboard were unscathed.
And, inside of Churchville, there was time for one last "neat old house" photo before picking up Interstate 81 for the long drive back home.
The trip was thoroughly enjoyable—and would have been so based solely on the terrific roads, or the historical attractions, or the beautiful scenery, or even Frankye's old vacation cabin by itself. Taken together, these elements provided the perfect tour. The Z4 ran flawlessly throughout the 850 miles, and tackled everything from bumpy dirt roads to freeways in stride. But it was really in its element on the twisting secondary roads, with prodigious cornering force, powerful brakes, and enough horsepower to leap from one curve to the next.
Perfect touring weather is here, and I hope to see some of you out on the back roads. Be sure to let us all know what your exploits turn out to be.
Rick F.
TedV
I'm extremely impressed, like everyone else. Your pics are quite something. But as a photog, myself, I'm always curious about how others have achieved their often spectacular looking results...therefore, I've got to ask: did you manipulate the colors at all, do any special processing to them (and if yes, what)? What camera/lenses do you use? 
