Ancient Wall of Rock.CROSSING BRIDGES
Up on an oak shaded rise was an old school bus that had been converted into someone’s living quarters. The clarity of its window panes were dim from years of accumulated dust and mildew, and the curtains or cardboard or paper sacks that covered the windows were just as sullied with age. The bus’ cheery orange had long ago faded, and in its stead pale green lichen grew. The bus looked more like a plant than a machine. To arrest the rust that caused leaks in the bus’ roof, the lord of this manor had apparently slopped a wide swath of runny tar that covered the width of this dreary domicile. So sloppy was the application of tar that it dripped down the bus’ sides and streaked a few of its windows.
Behind where the driver’s seat would have been, a sooty stove pipe protruded from the roof, this pipe more than likely vented exhaust from a stove that served as both heater and kitchen for this immobile home.
The name of this town is Thayer, West Virginia—perhaps calling it a town is being too generous; Thayer is more dot than destination, it is a wide spot in the girth of a very narrow goat path. The driveways of some of the shacks dropped off from the road abruptly and came to a stop; there were no garages, no carports, and no places to park—really, the cars just stopped. There was one way into these precipitous driveways, and a harrowing way out—that is to say, they blindly backed up and out until they reached the relatively flat plain of the road.
Along the tree shaded route the mountainside crashed to the New River Gorge and left little—no—left, NO, room for mistakes. On more than one occasion I threatened to close my right eye (being the passenger that was the eye nearest to the precipice) so that I could concentrate with my left eye on the path ahead. The road was wide enough for two cows, and a chicken--that was it! Fortunately, we only met one vehicle on our way out, and that was at a “widening” of the road just enough for our mirrors to nearly kiss and move on. Ceilon said on more than one occasion that it felt as if we were in a Stephen King novel. The 1970 movie Deliverance flashed through my mind. “Uh-oh, Ceilon—I just seen a kid on a porch wit’ a banjo.”
It was not our intent to visit Thayer, but to see the New River Gorge Bridge; however, its name, the New River is a misnomer. The river has reportedly carved its way through the canyon since the Cretaceous epoch (the period in which the dinosaurs had their last hoorah!). The bridge that spans the canyon is the second highest arch bridge in North America, and is truly something to behold. Thayer was a “shortcut” on our way back to our camp site at the serene Babcock State Park.
West Virginia is coal mining country and it is the South, historic markers along the roadway denote points of interest usually referencing skirmishes in the War Between the States or the loss of life at various coal mine disasters or rebellions. It is also the State in which the term "Redneck" blossomed forth into our vocabulary. In 1921 striking miners wore red bandannas around their necks to distinguish fellow strikers from the roughnecks who came there to beat the crap out of them.
West Virginia is also hillbilly country (a fact not lost on the tourist trade). There are hillbilly T-shirts, hillbilly hats, hillbilly shot glasses (of course I bought one), hillbilly markets, hillbilly this and hillbilly that. But not being one that traffics in stereotypes, I have to say, that some of the locals did little to discourage the impression that hill folk were--well--um--unique!
Here is something that one should never forget while traveling through West Virginia. Basically there are two rules to follow: 1.) Do not ask the locals any questions beyond the reach of their arms or line of sight (because they don’t seem to know, whether by intent or nature, what lies beyond their holl'r. We were talking to a couple from Texas and she cautiously asked, "Hav-v-v' you-u-u-u found the people here a little...ambiguous in givin' di-rections?" she asked); and 2.) DO NOT take any roads marked on a map in white or you will end up over Thayer, and there ain’t where you want to be.
We visited two noteworthy bridges on this trip; the first one was of man's design (West Virginia's New River Gorge Bridge), and the second was of nature's doing (Virginia's Natural Bridge). I have to say that I spent a good deal of time oogling over that stretch of steel that reached across the New River Gorge and wondered who but a nutcake would put in a bid to paint it?
The New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia truly is a modern marvel. As we drove across the bridge I spit out the window and 40 minutes later I was able to catch the spit in my coffee cup after I took this picture.
Click on the above and below picture to enlarge them.
We also drove down to the old bridge that you can see spanning the river to the lower left.
In 1774, Thomas Jefferson was so impressed with its grandeur that he purchased the land around it from King George the III, and established it as a tourist destination. I also heard a
rumor that Jefferson, wishing to corner the market on spin-off toys, designed a character mascot costume which he name "Mickey the Norwegan Warf Rat."
Click on the above picture to enlarge it.
Take note of the diminutive people in the background. We also drove across the crest of the Natural Bridge on Hwy 11. That was a thrill with high merit.
"But soon the fore part of him slowly rose form the water; for an instant his whole marbleized body formed a high arch, like Virginia's Natural Bridge, and warningly waving his bannered flukes in the air, the grand god revealed himself, sounded, and went out of sight."
We also visited--FOAMHENGE?
Foamhenge
Reportedly, this ring of battleship gray, styrofoam monoliths is an exact replica of England’s Stonehenge. Okay-- Furthermore, According to its creator, it took “4-5 Mexicans and one crazy man to construct it.” Alright.
The approach to the entrance of Natural Bridge was also quite fascinating as well. On the drive down you pass a wildlife zoo, a turn off to view some natural caverns (after Foamhenge I would be a little leary), Yogi Bear’s Jellystone RV Park (it must be a franchise), and a few abandoned amusement parks that hard times have fallen on.
I should also like to say that if you visit Natural Bridge in the summer months, perpare yourself for withering heat and wilting humidity. It was miserable!
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A marble bust of Washington representing him as a Roman warrior (this is inside the small museum at the base of the column). Note his Romanesque hairdo.
View from behind iron grate at the top of the column (the spire of Mount Vernon Place UMC). There are four doors at cardinal points on a compass from which to view the city.
.This is the last known photograph taken of George Washington. It captures him in a private moment whilst he contemplated his legacy, and puzzled over a troublesome hangnail.
Final stoop before iron grate at the column’s interior apex. 
Separation of a marble step near the top where an alarming crack has formed in the center column that supports Washington’s statue.
