Chris Pohowsky, a good friend of Missy’s and mine (we’re also staying at his mom’s house) just made us a delicious dinner:  a curry with sweet potatoes, carrots, and other sundry vegetables.  Tomorrow, he’ll be riding with me to Harrisonburg, VA.  Chris spent a day last week volunteering in WV, not far from where we were staying at the Coal River Mtn Watch house.  If I can tear him away from what seems to be a pretty intense game of Scrabble, he has agreed to write a guest blog post about that experience.
 
Chris:  Long story short; I had hoped to join Missy, Matt and Sam for a day or two of riding as they passed through WV but that was not to be.  However, Karen Domzalski of Fayetteville, WV serendipitously happened to call days before the trip was underway.  Not only did she have the scoop on some mountain top removal activity in Ansted but mentioned a group of volunteers were heading to Prenter Hollow near Rock Creek to insulate water barrels.  I couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity to assist with the cause.  I headed towards Beckley from Blacksburg early Sunday morning and turned off of I-77 into parts of WV I had only heard of and never seen.  The day that followed was eye opening in so many ways.  We spent the first hour or so learning how to insulate the water barrels and then set out to work in groups of three.  Matt Louis-Rodriguez gave us the demo and spent the day doing an amazing job of orchestrating the day’s work—shuttling us and the supplies in his truck all over the area.  All told a group of about fifteen folks insulated 40 some barrels and we all had it down to an art by the time the day was over.  The folks who live in this area are simply amazing people.  It warms the heart to feel such generosity of spirit from folks you have never met yet breaks it to see their predicament and the irreparable damage to their ecosystem and lifestyle.  Years of coal slurry injections into old mine shafts in the area have leached their toxins into the water supply of this community.  The relentless blasting from the mountain top removal all around this community may well have accelerated the contamination.  Regardless, the huge spike in cancer rates and a multitude of other extremely unpleasant and often fatal health issues in the community tells the sad story.  Their water source is undrinkable.  Trucking water in is the only solution for now...  How painful to live in such a beautiful part of the world, to have hollows in which to grow crops and hunt, and freshwater streams outside your front door...except you can’t use any of it.  Thank you to the community of Prenter Hollow for your hospitality and kindness under such unthinkable circumstances!
 
And now for the ride report:
 
Jan 17, 8:30 PM.  We woke up this morning to an amazing sunrise across the New River Gorge.  While the sun crept down the opposite wall, we went to breakfast.  Three eggs, 2 biscuits, 2 pancakes, and 4 cups of coffee later, I was pretty much ready to go back to bed.  There was a thin sheet of ice on the river below, and when the sun finally reached the river, its surface came alive with mist.  The mist flowed downstream in currents and eddies, but there was no time to stay and watch.  We packed up the room and headed out.
 
We had a short car shuttle this morning, because we didn’t camp where we had intended to last night.  Instead, we stayed at the Hawk’s Nest State Park lodge, and enjoyed a huge dinner and a warm bed.  Camping was really out of the question:  when we woke up, it was -7 degrees out there.  The weather channel remarked this morning that Elkins, WV, set a new record low last night—not a record low for Jan 16, but an all-time low.  Yes, it is colder in WV than it has ever been.  Wow.  On the way to the ride start, we crossed the Gauley River, which was completely covered in thick ice.  A couple miles later in Summersville, we looked back to the west and saw the mountaintop removal mine above Ansted.  It’s really hideous, like a decayed tooth in an otherwise pristine mountain range.  And it’s just the beginning:  if we don’t stop it, MTR will take all those mountains.  MTR is just not compatible with anything else:  it will spoil this land for everything else.  Places like the New and the Gauley should be sacred.  How can this be happening in the heart of our country?
 
Soon, we were in Richwood, WV, and I started up the first climb of the day—a climb that would not end until 20 miles later.  My bike has a few creaks and squeaks in it, from the sand, salt, and coal sludge, I suppose.  My legs have a few creaks and groans, too.  I started the ride in tights and knee warmers, but the multiple layers were so tight on my left knee that my kneecap wasn’t tracking properly.  The pain was bad enough that I had to slide the knee warmer down to my calf.  Eventually, I found a place to sit on the saddle that wasn’t hurting my knee, but unfortunately, my ankle didn’t like that spot.  My left flexor tendon has been flaring up, too.
 
It’s hard to describe just how cold it was in the Cranberry River valley this morning:  it was in the negative teens there last night.  It was so cold that parts of the river were frozen solid.  There were even places where the upstream ice was higher than the downstream ice—an eddy-line frozen solid.
 
There was nothing transcendental about the ride today.  To be sure, the roads were amazing and the scenery was spectacular, but I felt every pedal stroke.  The air was bitterly cold, and my lungs were offended that I would even try to breathe it.  Even though I was wearing all my warmest clothes, I was cold while I was climbing.  I had to ride pretty hard just to stay reasonably warm.  The 10 mile descent was more than I could stand.  At the bottom, I flagged Matt down, and I sat in the idling car to let my fingers and toes regain some feeling.  It was hard to get out, but I headed on down the road, and the next few climbs went by quickly.  So did the 10 mile false flat to Minnehaha Springs.  Then we turned left into a rolling valley, and I felt like I was really going to make it.  This was the last really hard day of the trip, and I got carried away and pushed a little harder than I should have.  At the next intersection, I was starting to drag, so I asked Matt to make me something delicious.  A few minutes later, he pulled up beside me and handed me a fresh water bottle (mine was solid as a brick) and a bagel with peanut butter, nutella, and peanut M&Ms.  Oh yeah.
 
Even after refueling, the next 20 miles seemed interminable.  My right hamstring felt like it was tearing, and it just kept getting colder.  Where was the sun?  The forecast was for sunshine and 20 degrees.  I got neither.  Still, one pedal stroke at a time, and we were at Carolyn Pohowsky’s house.  It’s a beautiful log house on her family’s farm in Hightown, VA.  There was a fire in the fireplace, a cup of hot chocolate, and a warm shower to help me forget how miserable the day had been.  You’ll be happy to know that I am still in possession of all my fingers and toes.  80 tough miles today, in a little less than 5 hours (ride time).  It was a quicker pace than I’ve been keeping, but I had no choice—any slower and I would have frozen.
 
I would love to ride these roads again sometime when it’s warmer.  The valley where we finished after crossing the Virginia state line was absolutely perfect:  hardwood ridges, snow, farmhouses, little old churches, frolicking deer.  Simply beautiful.  It’s funny how the lines on a map have really meant something on this trip.  When we crossed into the Monongahela National Forest, it was the first time the scenery had been unspoiled on the entire journey.  When we crossed into Virginia, we saw well-kept homes in unspoiled valleys with mountains blissfully intact.  In other places, the mountains are just as special, but they have no protection.  It seems like they’re under attack from every front:  big Coal, logging, and even the Department of Envt’l “Protection.”
 
Tomorrow should be somewhat easier.  It will be warmer, a net downhill (even though we have 5 mountain passes), and I’ll have good company.  2 more days to DC

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