From Grafton we went to stay with Gwen Jones, a close friend from our long distance hiking days, and her husband Ted McMahon. Though she lived in Connecticut when we met and hiked with Gwen, she had since moved to West Virginia where her family roots lie. They lived in Morgantown while Gwen was a professor at Fairmont State University in Fairmont.
Gwen laments the days of her grandfather in West Virginia when coal miners knew “which side they were on,” unlike today when interest groups, corporate news and political parties persuade the West Virginia public into supporting policies not in their best interest. One particular “news” culprit is the same one we encountered in the heartland riling up viewers about the campaign donations of organized labor, though minuscule in size to the donations of corporations to both campaigns and lobbyists.
Our experiences in Ohio and West Virginia suggest fracking to be the new coal. Extracting resources does not have to lead to a bust economy if enough diverse opportunities for employment exist independently of the extraction industry. Some coal towns have achieved such diversity. Yet in an age where corporate funding of interest groups and media ignores the downside of “get rich quick” industries, I suspect busts from fracking are inevitable.
While we stayed with Gwen we also met Gary Auerbach, who found out about us from the TV coverage we received in Clarksburg station WBOY 12. He lived near the North Bend Rail Trail and contacted us to stay with him, but we had finished hiking on the NBRT by the time we received his email. We invited him instead to come meet us while we stayed with Gwen.
Since Gwen was a professor at Fairmont State University, we arranged to meet Gary at McAteers, her favorite lunch spot in Fairmont. Gary incorporated his skills as a juggler, dancer and world frisbee champion to become a “playcologist” that traveled to schools around the country encouraging kids to get outside and play more. Gwen brought along her coworker Matt to the lunch, seeking tips from Gary for the ultimate frisbee program at FSU the two of them led.
After our lunch meeting I gave a talk to Fairmont’s outdoor adventure program that Matt directed. Later I gave a talk to an honors leadership class that was finishing a film on Machiavelli when I arrived. By this time I felt so comfortable with my kindness and community material that I could incorporate the material on the fly into a discussion about Machiavelli. These would be my last college presentations of the journey, which precisely mirrored the first ones I gave at Colorado Mesa University in Grand Junction.
Gary arranged for us to speak as well, at Watson Elementary School, where his wife Wendy worked as a school counselor. At the time the school was doing a unit on kindness and as we entered the school corridor, KINDNESS was posted in big letters on the wall. I had no trouble adapting my material for this audience.
While staying with Gwen we made a trip into downtown Morgantown, where third graders from St. Francis Elementary School were leading a “Lend a Leg” protest, raising awareness about the children maimed and killed all over the world due to landmines and cluster munitions. The children paraded with “Lend a Leg” signs on one block of the street and had a station where passersby got a picture of their leg taken in exchange for their donation.
As we left Gwen to resume hiking on the trail, Ky left to go back home to keep her dog company in his final days with cancer. This would be the fifth time Ky parted from us for a few days, but this parting differed from the rest. All the other times Ky needed a break from the journey, this time you could tell she hated leaving us. We were sad to lose her for a while as well.
Yet as with every time we hiked without support, kindness tracked us down. On our way from Grafton to Parsons, WV, motorists stopped to chat with us, then sent us to the Tygart Lake Public Golf Course near our route. We stopped and asked to use their restrooms. The managers gave us Cokes and two golf caps to take with us.
The day before Parsons we were nearing the campground where we would stay that night when a young man with guitar slung around his shoulder game out to greet us from his porch. His mother Anita, father Mike and neighborhood friend Kendall then came out to join Tim in chatting with us. Tim and Anita had life threatening experiences that made them grateful to be alive and inclined to be kind to strangers. When we reached the campground later, Mike came by with hot dogs, bread and bottled water for us.
We arrived at Parsons on Palm Sunday, just in time to attend the St. Johns United Methodist Church service, along with attending their pizza lunch and Easter egg hunt afterwards. I asked Pastor Phil Dent if we could stay in the building that evening. After he said yes we went out to get more supplies for the next stretch. By the time we came back he arranged for us to stay at the Parsons Country Inn, Ken Bott proprietor, with supper and breakfast included. I donated some of the food I just bought to the church and packed the rest. Before transferring the the Parsons Country Inn I sang in the choir for the evening Palm Sunday service and we attended
Ken had a ministry of using his business to help the homeless; I guess we qualified. I interviewed Ken about his ministry and had a discussion with both Ken and Phil about community involvement. I long had known that a problem for denominational churches with engaging youth is how set they are with certain behaviors and traditions. Ken and Phil provided examples of how this problem applies to communities as well, also explaining why volunteerism has gone up as societal problems plague us, but community involvement has gone down. Young adults want to bring their own new solutions to problems, rather than be plugged into existing solutions.
The next two days out of Parsons featured spectacular beauty. A new bike trail from near Parsons to Thomas had been created along the Blackwater River. We hiked on this bike path rather than the official ADT route,along roads, as we had every confidence this would soon become the official route. We spent almost the entire first day out of Parsons hiking along a roaring river, boisterous cascades and thundering waterfalls, witnessing the blossoming of spring through the flowers and trees. That evening we camped near a small but loud waterfall that provided better soothing respite than a grand chorus of spring peepers.
The next day we reached the end of the bike trail and beyond the maps I carried. Fortunately, we soon came upon a road construction crew that provided us directions to Blackwater Falls State Park. Since the construction turned out to be in the direction our initial guide, Ed, radioed ahead to his colleagues, who waved, cheered and gave us further directions, whether needed or not.
Once in the State Park we took a side trail for the obligatory viewing of Blackwater Falls, then hiked on trails, once again on the official ADT route, towards our destination for the night, Canaan Valley State Park Lodge. Gwen booked us a room for all three of us to spend the night; she met us on the trail and hiked the last few miles towards the Lodge.
The three of us watched the UConn women’s basketball team lose to rival Notre Dame that evening. Yet not even our favorite team losing in a tournament dampened the warmth of one last night spent with our Gwen. Making new close friends all across the country was one of the best parts about the trip, but still bittersweet when there is no guarantee to ever meet again. There was no such bitterness to the sweetness of spending time with our long term hiking buddy who we likely would see again.
