Jan 16, 5:30 PM.  Coldest day in 6 years.  That’s what they said on the news this morning when we were getting ready to ride.  It was zero degrees outside while we were having coffee, and it was probably about 5 when we left.  It was nice to talk to Larry some more this morning; he is a wise man.  We talked about fighting, and why it’s worth it.  He told us that he fights because he knows he’s right, and if he didn’t fight, then he wouldn’t have anything, because the truth is the only thing worth having.  When you plant your feet and stand up for what’s right, he said, people are bound to push back.  People have been pushing back against Larry since he started speaking out:  he’s had drive-by-shootings, arrests, and attempts to keep him out of his own home.  So I guess that really put things in perspective this morning.  It only takes so much courage to put on warm clothes and go for a bike ride; it takes a lot more to risk your life while trying to lead by example.

Larry showed us a model that was made for him by a friend.  It showed the 'layers' of Kayford Mountain, the coal seams the valley fills and what used to be the higher peaks surrounding his home.  It was very powerful watching him build his mountain back up, in the only way that he can, piece by piece on his dining room table.  The coal seams mined were tiny in comparison to the amount of "overburden" blown up and moved in to the valley streams.  After rebuilding his mountain he carefully placed it into its own case to keep it safe.

Larry is working for the “forgotten people of Appalachia.”  And although we haven’t been using the same words, so are we.  We are honored to carry the voices of those who are fed up with watching their family members die of black lung or mining accidents, those whose wells have been poisoned by illegal disposal of coal wastes, those who have been intimidated by the coal companies into leaving the lands that they and their ancestors were raised on.  We are trying to carry the voices of those who are speaking out, but are being ignored, but also those who are too afraid to speak.
 
We were late leaving Charleston this morning because we had a TV interview with the local news.  I had made an appointment with the Mayor of Ansted, WV, for 2:00, so I was putting the hammer down.  Unfortunately, the north wind that had been in my face arriving in Charleston had turned into a south wind (in my face yet again) today.  It was vicious.  With the temperature so low, the wind chill must have been at least in the negative teens.  Matt pulled around me and gave me a moto-pace until the coal trucks and local yahoos on the 2-lane road made it impossible.  People were forcing me off the road and splashing me with coal slush as they drove by.  Finally, we got far enough away from Charleston that the traffic let up, and the scenery improved dramatically.  The last 10 miles of today’s leg were the loveliest of the trip.  We crossed the mouth of the Gauley River, then climbed up into the mountains of Fayette County, onto a ridge overlooking a section of the New River Gorge.
 
After some rollers, we arrived about 45 minutes late at the Blue Smoke Salsa factory in Ansted.  If you haven’t tried it, do yourself a favor.  There’s a reason that the business started in Robin’s kitchen and is now international:  this stuff is good.  For you Knox-villains, I think you can get it at the 3 Rivers Coop.  Robin fixed us some hot chocolate and we had a great meeting with Mayor Pete Hobbs.  He told us about the history of Ansted, which is named after a geologist who first discovered coal in the area.  Coal was the driver of Ansted’s economy for a while, but like everywhere else, it went boom, then bust, leaving over 1 out of 4 people unemployed.  Mountaintop mining will be the same way.  They say there’s 300 years of minable coal in Appalachia, but there isn’t that much in Fayette County.  Once those seams dry up, it’s on to the next mountain.  Boom.  Bust.  Then what’s left?  And the “booms” here aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.  Very few of the locals are employed at the mountaintop mining operation:  most employees travel from one mine to the next, so the local economies definitely don’t get much help.  Meanwhile, the “booms” are cracking the local people’s plaster and threatening their water supply.  Blasting is a risky thing, when there are sludge ponds upstream and lots of underground mines to channel the waste into aquifers.  Blasting is especially dangerous here, where the levels of selenium that are released are, according to the DEP permit, extraordinarily toxic and (if not properly contained) will cause irreversible damage.
 
Mayor Hobbs pointed out that the only long-term way to keep Ansted’s economy healthy is the tourism industry.  Ansted is just between the New and the Gauley, both of which are incredibly beautiful places.  There are so many beautiful places here.  I hope there always are, but we can’t take that for granted anymore.  If the mountains and streams are gone, then who will come to visit?  But Coal wants to kill communities.  Mountaintop removal runs every other kind of job out of town, and when it does, there is an endless supply of cheap labor.  It also runs out the pesky environmentalists who try to keep them honest.  But not for long:  many are taking a stand.
 
DEP has granted permits for over 400 acres on the mountain above Ansted, but there will be many more.  The ridge has a very valuable deposit of coal which can be used in steel-making.  The DEP hasn’t issued permits for the whole ridge, but they will—a couple hundred acres at a time.  They do it that way to avoid having to consider the real impact of the operation, and to avoid letting the public make comments on the coal company’s intent to mine the entire area.  They avoid discussing the cumulative environmental impacts, too.  The forgotten people of Appalachia, losing their homes one slice at a time.  They don’t want this.  They know it’s lethal to their town, but nobody seems to listen.  We are shouting for them.  I hope that we stop the destruction before Ansted loses its future.  It’s a wonderful town:  small, beautiful, and full of great people who care about each other.  The people are connected to the land; many hunt and fish for their food.  Every hollow has a history, but all that history will be buried if Big Coal gets its way.
 
After our meeting, Mayor Hobbs called in a favor at the Hawk’s Nest State Park, and got us a room at the Lodge.  That’s where we are, warm, clean, and dry.  We had planned to camp, but as cold as it is, I wouldn’t have been able to get my sweaty things dry, which would have made tomorrow even worse than it will be.  Now the sun is down and there is a persistent rumbling—not from far off blasting, but from my belly.  Off to dinner.  Please keep us in your thoughts tomorrow, which will be a very long day through difficult terrain and even more difficult weather.

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