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 The world-famous New River Bridge, located north of Beckley, West Virginia.
There’s a good reason for that. Is there a whole square mile that is flat anywhere in West Virginia? Okay, how about semi-flat? Well, I’m sure there has to be some flat land somewhere, but you would probably be hard pressed to find it.
As 1 leave Tazewell I head to Bluefeld and then hit the West Virginia turnpike, where I see three or four state troopers within just a couple of miles stretch. I believe they mean business.
Although 1 have been on a couple of brief sections of the turnpike once before, this is my first time traveling the whole length, from the Bluefield area to its terminus in Charleston. Except for the city of Beckley, there is pretty much nothing to be seen for the whole length except mountains, trees. . . and tollbooths. I may be mistaken, but it seems like all the tollbooths are situated at the bottom of inclines in the expressway, so that you have to re-accelerate up the hill. And there are some long hills - long, steady climbs like the 6% grade on U.S. 25 north of Highway 11.
When I reach Beckley I get off the highway to drop in at Tamarack, an arts and crafts emporium that is visited by tourists from all over. The famous New River bridge, where once a year people arc allowed to parachute off of it (Yes, it is that high up from the river) is just a few miles north of Beckley. Since I had seen the bridge back in 2002, I decide to skip it this time.
Tamarack features all kinds of arts and crafts, as well as over-priced jars of jelly. Several paintings and sculptures (most of them abstract) are priced at well over $1,000. Featured at Tamarack are several artisan studios where you can watch craftsmen engage in stained glass, textile and musical instrument crafting. No one is in their studio this afternoon, although during my previous visit in 2002 I had the opportunity to talk with the dulcimer maker.
I leave Tamarack and get back on the turnpike, heading to Charleston, my ultimate dest-ination being Parkersburg.
While driving the stretch of I-77 between Charleston and Parkersburg, I notice that the highway has a gentle upslope most of the way. I muse that, if bicycles were allowed on the interstate, a cyclist could start in Parkersburg and coast most of the way to Charleston without much exertion.
Afler checking in at the hotel I drive a few miles into town to the local Golden Corral for dinner.
Early the next morning, before sun-up, I head up Rte. 2, a road that hugs the Ohio River all the way up to Moundsville, my first destination for the day. I had anticipated being able to view the Ohio River as I drove, but, even after sunrise, a heavy fog blankets the area for several miles. I do a little extra praying this morning.
I eventually get used to the steady routine - drive several miles at 55, slow down to 45 as I approach the next town, drive 35 in town, accelerate to 45 as I am leaving town, and pump it up again to 55, then do the whole routine all over again five or ten miles later. Couple that with the occasional school zone and stopped school bus, as well as a one-lane road construction zone and, in a couple of hours, I reach Moundsville, a small city a few miles south of Wheeling.
Next Installment - Grave Creek and Mount Pleasant
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