The Long Point Trail at New River Gorge and The Tiny Town of Thurmond, WV

Greetings Appalachia!

    Summer is in full swing, and my family always enjoyed weekend day-trips as a productive and educational way to spend time together. This is probably what fostered my growing need for adventure, and I am always on the lookout for a new place to explore. Thanks to Google and some suggestions from members of the Mountain Blood community, I ended up exploring some more of Fayetteville, WV.

     July 4th dawned dreary and foggy, but this was my last weekend to travel before my summer class, so I didn't let the rain hold me back. The mister and I got up bright and early and headed to Fayetteville. We parked at the trailhead for the Long Point trail, grabbed our picnic basket full of pasta and snack cakes, and headed into the forest.

    The hike was 1.6 miles in each direction. I don't know how many avid hikers read this blog, but for a gal as un-athletic as myself, it was quite a workout, especially when it came to climbing the hills on the way out, but we took our time and enjoyed nature. The rain was unrelenting, but I preferred that over sweltering in the sun. We picked some wild blackberries, and tromped happily through the mud to what could possibly be the best view West Virginia has to offer. 

     Near the end, the fog had completely shrouded the mountain where we were hiking, and our whole world was just the surrounding rhododendron thicket and a cloud that engulfed the gorge. The trail eventually led to a narrow outcropping of rock on the side of the gorge. We could hear the rushing of the swollen New River, the chugging train below, and a distant waterfall on the opposite wall of the New River Gorge. 

A wild boyfriend in a rhododendron thicket. 

Still smiling through the fear. 

A remarkable view of my butt the bridge and the gorge. 

     This was definitely the highest cliff I've ever been on that doesn't have some sort of barrier. It's quite wide and flat, so that helped keep my mind at ease. We sat down on a rock facing the bridge and had our picnic. The view was stunning. 

    After we tore ourselves away from this cliff-side paradise, we decided to check out the town of Thurmond, WV. 

     Thurmond is a little railroad town hidden in the hills of Fayetteville. It consists of a few company houses, a one room town hall, and a bank. According to the 2013 census, the population of the town is 5. It used to be pretty active, but the population saw a dramatic and steady decline through the 1900s. It was used for the C&O railroad, and was the filming location for Matewan (1987). 

This is the town hall. 

     This town has a Wikipedia page if you're interested in the demographics of 5 people and the history of its singular railway. It's definitely cute and interesting, and if you happen to be in Fayetteville with some time to kill, look into it. The drive there was more exciting to me than the town itself because of the waterfalls and the overwhelming number of rhododendron blossoms in the forest along the road. Picture the sky on a really clear night, and then replace the stars with flower blossoms. They were that numerous. It was amazing. The sheer numbers in that forest alone justify the rhododendron being the state flower. 

    We returned to my parents' house for a shower and a nap and then enjoyed the illegal fireworks courtesy of the neighbors. It was a great day. Thanks for reading! 

Have you ever hiked around New River Gorge? Do you know any spectacular views I should seek out? Do you know any quirky little places like Thurmond? I'd love to hear about it mountainbloodwv@gmail.com. You can also find me on Facebook under MountainBlood WV, and now on Google+! 

Appalachian Review: Kirkwood Winery

 Hello Appalachia!

    I try to do three posts a month, and here we are at the end of June. I somehow lost all track of time, so hopefully you won't mind getting two posts in the same week. The power is out here due to the crazy weather (I came home to a tornado warning last night), so I'm writing this entire post from my phone. That's how I dedicated I am. I also cooked lunch using a candle and the grill off of the toaster oven. It's about to be a long day. So due to time constraints and the fact that I'm working on my phone, this one will be short.

Appalachians don't need electricity to cook!

     A few months ago, I was visiting Nicholas County (a lot of my blogs start this way), and I decided to check out the Kirkwood Winery in Summersville, WV. I'll be sure to attach the link for their website where you can read about the history and events, such as the Grape Stompin' Festival.

    It was a miserably rainy day when we went so we didn't look into a tour, but I intend to see these acres of grapevines for myself before I move away from this region. We just visited the Country Store and I bought two bottles of their wine to sample.
     I have never seen so many different types of wine. Ramp wine, dandelion wine, wine from every fruit you could ever imagine.

The store also sells merchandise such as wine glasses with their logo, cork holders, and stuff you'd expect to see in a wine store. They also have products I guarantee you won't find outside of Appalachia, such as Ramp Mustard. 

     Their wines can be purchased all over the state of West Virginia. I've seen it in gas stations and grocery stores everywhere. I'm not sure if you save money by purchasing directly from Kirkwood Winery, because the prices of the wines at the Amish Bulk Food store in Flatwoods were pretty consistent with the prices at the Kirkwood Winery Country Store. 

    As I mentioned earlier, I got two different wines to try. I got a small bottle of Cherry and a small bottle of Elderberry. They were 8 or 9 dollars per bottle, and you get about two glasses per bottle. 

    These two wines were quite sweet compared to your standard reds and whites, and I am far from being any kind of connoisseur, but I would use them for a dessert type of beverage. The Cherry was actually quite good. It tasted exactly like liquid cherries. It didn't have the artificial taste of Maraschino cherries, but a freshly picked from the tree type of taste. I really liked it. 

     The Elderberry was not as enjoyable for me. It was sweet enough to be syrup, and I've never tasted actual elderberries, so there's a possibility I just don't like that flavor. That being said, I definitely want to try out some more of these wines, particularly Strawberry and Dandelion. Thanks for reading! 

Link for Kirkwood Winery website:

https://www.kirkwood-wine.com/

**I am not affiliated with Kirkwood Winery. This is just a review of the two wines I bought. 

Have you ever tried any products from an Appalachian vineyard? Do you have a favorite specialty wine?  Do you make your own wine? I'd love to hear about it at mountainbloodwv@ gmail.com or on Facebook, MountBlood WV. 

    

    

Makeshift Appalachia: DIY Pepperoni Rolls

Hello Appalachia!

    This month is flying by, and I have 3 more days to get you a few more blogs. Yikes. Anyway, let's talk about my favorite thing, food. The Appalachian Mountains served to isolate groups of people from each other for a long time, and that is the main reason our unique culture was born. The mountain dwellers grew up in a place all their own with very little outside influence before the days of internet, TV, and even radios. Our ancestors created a world and culture all their own, and just like with any culture, food is a major component. Some readers may ask themselves, what exactly is considered Appalachian food? I would say ramps, venison, beans and cornbread, and my favorite, pepperoni rolls. Apparently they're hard to find outside of West Virginia. The rest of the world is missing out on the Holy Grail of snack foods, and since my readers now span all four corners of the earth, I decided to let them in on the secret. I hesitate to call this recipe my own, since I'm sure other people have made them this way, but I got the idea to do this just by looking at what I had in my pantry.

Let's get cooking. (The list of ingredients and recipe will be posted at the bottom of the page).

I started by spraying some muffin tins with cooking spray. I used frozen yeast rolls, shredded cheese, and sliced pepperoni.

I put two rolls in each cup of the muffin tin, covered them in plastic cling wrap, and allowed them to rise for 2-3 hours. Depending on the temperature, they may rise faster or slower, so check them a few times. 

They should look like buttcheeks when they're ready. 

Next, you just spread the rolls and stuff some cheese and pepperoni into the opening. You can also add other fillings like mushrooms, black olives, or banana peppers. Today I did half pepperoni and cheese, and half with banana peppers. Close the "pocket" in the two rolls by pinching the dough together. Bake them at 375 F for 20 minutes. 

The final step is optional, but I don't think these pepperoni rolls are complete without honey butter. I smear it all over them when they're piping hot out of the oven. 

The final step is to try to resist eating ten of them at once. I hope you try this and like the results! 

Ingredients:

Frozen yeast dinner rolls

Sliced pepperoni

Shredded cheese (any kind)

Banana peppers (optional)

Honey butter (optional)

Recipe:

1. Pre-heat the oven to 375 F.

2. Put two of the frozen rolls into each cup of a greased muffin tin, cover with cling wrap, and let them rise for 2-3 hours. 

3. Stuff the rolls with cheese, pepperoni, and any other fillings you choose. 

4. Pinch the rolls closed. 

5. Bake for 20 minutes. 

6. Glaze with honey butter (optional). 

7. Enjoy! 

Do you have an Appalachian recipe you'd like to share? Do you have a favorite cultural dish? What's your favorite food? I'd love to hear about it at mountainbloodwv@gmail.com or on Facebook, MountainBlood WV. Thanks for reading! 

June's Featured Appalachian!

Hello friends!

    We're halfway through June and I still haven't given you a featured Appalachian. To be honest, they are getting harder to come by with each passing month, so if you're reading this and know someone you would like featured, please don't ever hesitate to contact me. I need participation from the MountainBlood community to keep this segment going. Help a sister out.

    With that rant being over, let's get to the good stuff. Our featured Appalachian this month is my paternal great-grandfather, William Hubert Griffith. To those who knew him, he was just Hubert. He was born to Clarence and Melinda Griffith in 1896 in Kanawha County, WV. His father was a coal miner, and his mother died of Bright's disease in her early twenties. His father remarried a woman named Edith, and Hubert had 8 siblings overall.

Hubert's father and stepmother, Clarence and Edith Griffith, approximately 1900. 

    Hubert completed elementary school, and he started working in the coal mines when he was 13. I believe he worked with the horses and mules that pulled the wagons. A few years later, he fought in World War I, where he spent time in France. When he was 25, he married 15-year-old Christie Johnston. They started their family in Clay County, West Virginia. They had several children: Edith, Alice (my maternal grandmother), Freda, Ercle, Clarence (deceased), Ralph (deceased), Tommy (deceased), Bert (deceased), Charles (deceased), Wesley (deceased), Donna (deceased), Harold (deceased), Okey, Doris (died in childhood from pneumonia after being burnt in a fire), Evalee (died in childhood from an intestinal disease), and there were also twin girls who were stillborn after Christie suffered a fall. I don't dare try to count up their grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren, but my grandma tells me the number is in the hundreds.

Hubert and Christie with some of their children. 

     Aside from working in the mines, Hubert also ran moonshine with his brother Ralph. Ralph would make it, and Hubert would take it to Kanawha County to distribute it. Legend has it that a revenuer caught Ralph and was shot dead for his trouble. Aside from moonshine and coal mines, Hubert also called the local barn dances.

Hubert in his mining clothes, smoking a pipe. 

     Hubert died in 1981 of black lung complications. He has hundreds of descendants scattered all over the globe. He lived through hard labor, WWI, The Great Depression, Prohibition, and many other historically significant events. He has quite a legacy, and I am pleased to share it with you. Thanks for reading. 

Do you have a relative or friend that fought in a war? Ran moonshine? Grew their own food? Came to the mountains from Ireland to find work?  I am always on the lookout for the next Featured Appalachian, and if you would like to nominate someone, I can pretty much guarantee they will be featured. Please don't hesitate to get in touch, and we can share the story of your parents/grandparents/relatives/friends. You can contact me at mountainbloodwv@gmail.com or on Facebook under the name MountainBlood WV. Thank you! 

Black Snake....*Groan*

Hello Appalachia!

    I promised to have one more post for the month of May, so here it is. I'm sure you've guessed the subject matter of this blog from the title, and maybe you even got my terrible reference to the film"Black Snake Moan," which incidentally does not star a single snake. I've always been kind of weird, and snakes have intrigued me since my dad brought home a garter snake in a jar when I was probably around 4. If I can get in touch with some people, this definitely won't be my only snake blog. For now, however, I'm going to share with you the story of the black snake in my parents' backyard.

    My suitor and I had just arrived in Craigsville for a weekend visit with my family. My grandfather lives just up the lane, so we decided to pay him a visit. We hadn't been there very long, and I got a call from my sister. Apparently, my mother, who is terrified of snakes, spotted one slithering around our huge backyard, and freaked out. Given my way, I would have let the thing stay there. In my experience, mountain folk either love snakes or fervently detest them. I am the former, my mother the latter. So instead of having a full time pest control specialist living in our woodshed, she wanted it GONE.

    We went back to my house, and before we even got to the driveway, we saw my sister in the backyard with a curtain rod, and we knew exactly what she was doing. Now is a good time to mention that she was 4 or 5 months pregnant at the time. If a pregnant woman woman waddling around playing Crocodile Hunter with a curtain rod and black snake isn't a true vision of Appalachia, I don't know what it is.

    I sent my boyfriend into the house to get a pillowcase, and I went to assist my sister. By the time he returned, the snake had already slithered under the fence. Our yard is about an acre, and the gate is in the front, so our options were to try to run through the gate and around the yard, or to climb over the fence. As I mentioned, my sister was heavy with child and incapable of jumping the fence, and aside from my ever inappropriate footwear, I'm not very athletic. That left my boyfriend, who dabbles in sports and blessedly has a the muscular fanny of David Beckham. I'm getting off topic.

     So he jumps the fence after much badgering from my sister and myself. He hails from South Charleston, WV, and while I wouldn't call it urban, it's definitely not rural. This was his first encounter in snake catching. The only two people with any snake catching experience/gumption (my sister and myself) were trapped on the opposite side of the fence. Eventually the commotion drew the attention of the neighbors. This man and his two little girls came to see what was up, and we told him we wanted to catch this snake and take it to my grandfather's woodworking shop (a blatant lie, but he was the type of person that would rather kill a snake than go through the trouble of relocating it). So the Thomas sisters are on one side of the fence, mirrored on the other side of the fence by another pair of sisters, and we have these two men and a black snake in between. We stood with the pillowcase at the ready. The older neighbor gentleman used a plank of wood to trap the snake behind the head, which is the proper snake catching technique, and then it was up to my city boy-boyfriend to grab him and put him the pillowcase. He reluctantly grabbed it by the tail and cried "I got it!" To which everyone responded, little girls included, "NO YOU DON'T!" He may try to catch snakes by the tail, but I love him anyway. He eventually grabbed it properly and stuffed it in our cloth sack.

    Now that we had the snake, all we had to do was take it to the woods behind my grandpa's house. My boyfriend refused to let the snake in his car, even though it was secured in a pillowcase. So it was up to me to carry this angry snake in a pillowcase about a quarter of a mile, in my dressy shoes. The snake was pretty calm, but he was pretty heavy. He was about 4 feet long and all muscle. I arrived in the forest, huffing and puffing, and set the pillowcase down in the leaves and coaxed him out. He slithered off into the woods, hopefully to live happy ever after.

"I've been snake-napped!" 

    We initially wanted to call my cousin Jayce, who is an elementary-school-level snake professional. In my neck of the woods, little boys have some sort of creepy crawly in their pockets at all times, and Jayce knows how to identify them, catch them, speak to them, etc. I was babysitting once, and Jayce tells me to come out on the porch and look at his little plastic toolbox. He was digging around in it, and he when stood up, he was holding 4 live snakes at once. They were all harmless, like the snakes around here tend to be, but I was quite taken aback. I was expecting a plastic hammer, not a garter snake.

*Specifically points out the presence of adult supervision* 

     Children in my area are taught from a young age how to identify harmless snakes from dangerous ones, and I explicitly do not condone small children grabbing up snakes without the supervision of someone who knows what the heck they're talking about. However, I caught snakes as a child, and kept them in a box or jar before letting them go that evening. It's just something kids do in my hometown. Like I said, I think snakes are wonderful. I would rather have one black snake than a 100 rats any day. Thanks for reading. 

*I do not recommend bothering snakes at all. I certainly do not recommend allowing children to handle them unsupervised, and I encourage you to educate yourself and young loved ones about identifying common garden snakes from the few potentially harmful ones. A good rule for all of nature is "look but don't touch." 

Do you have any snake stories? I'd love to hear about it at mountainbloodwv@gmail.com or on Facebook, MountainBlood WV. As always, I love feedback and suggestions. 

Makeshift Appalachian: Repair/Revamp/Recycle Old Ripped Jeans.

Hello Appalachia!

     I went shopping today and got some much needed summer clothes. It's been in the 80s all week! I've been bagging up some old clothes to take them to Goodwill, and I came across a few pairs of jeans that were ripped, but hard to part with. I've got a lot of thighs going on, and that's where the wear-and-tear on my jeans tends to happen most, and being a senior in college, I'm flat broke on my best day. I decided to remedy these holes and give these jeans a new look. I dug up some old fabric and a glue gun, and I made a super unique and adorable patch. If you want to touch up an old pair of your jeans (or maybe some new holey jeans that show more skin than you'd like) without sewing or spending a lot of money, please read on.

You will need:

• Ripped jeans, inside out
• Fabric to cover the hole(s)
• Scissors
• Hot glue gun
• Hot iron

The leftover Halloween plate is optional. 

     Step 1: Turn those jeans inside out and lay them out flat. Iron the area with the hole until there are no wrinkles near the hole.

     Step 2: Cut out a square of fabric big enough to cover the hole. I'm an avid quilter, so I used the leftover backing from making my niece's baby blanket. You can use regular craft store fabric, or even some pieces cut off some old non-salvageable jeans . I left an extra half-inch on all four sides, because you don't want the hot glue too close to the hole or you'll glue your jeans closed. 

     Step 3: Iron the patch, PATTERN SIDE DOWN, and make sure it is also free of any and all wrinkles.

     Step 4: Add a thin line of hot glue (the kind specifically designed to withstand heat) to all four sides. I repeat, don't get too close to the hole to avoid gluing your jeans shut. 

     Step 5: Go over the glued patch with a hot iron just to really spread that glue out and work it into both fabrics so they will dry together, nice and tight. 

     Step 6: Leave the pants flat, and let them cool. Turn them right-side-out, and check out the unique touch on your old ripped jeans! 

     And there you have it! A no-sew patch and a cute little peak of fabric instead of my ghostly white skin! Thanks to my dad for the idea, and thanks to you for reading! 

*Is there an Appalachian DIY project you think I should try? Do you have any projects of your own that you would like to share? I'd love to hear about it on Facebook (MountainBlood WV) or my email (mountainbloodwv@gmail.com). 

May's Featured Appalachian!

Hello Appalachia!

      I am very pleased to announce that the semester has ended and I am free from school for 3 weeks! That means I have lots of free time, and you can expect lots of stories here on Mountain Blood! I came home to stay through Mother's Day weekend, and I was lucky enough to sit down and talk with a lady whose macaroni salad deserves an award. So if you've got a minute, I encourage you to kick back and read this story about the life of Mavis McKinney Bailes.

     Mavis was born in Clay County, WV in 1936 to Leslie "Les" McKinney and Roxy McKinney. She was the oldest of 9 children. They had a farm, and Les was a mail carrier for 21 years, and he was also a caretaker for his employer's property. 

     Since Mavis was the oldest child, her duties included keeping up with the dishes, carrying water, and helping her mother with the little ones. In the summer, Mavis and her siblings would swim in what she calls "nature's swimming pool," also known as the Blue Hole in Clay County. 

     Mavis attended school until her junior year, and then she moved to Nettie, WV in Nicholas County to help take care of her ailing grandmother. It was in Nettie that she met Charles Bailes. Charles ended up in the service, and she briefly moved back to Clay County, but they were married after he returned in 1958. They have 4 children, 7 grandchildren, 6 great-grandchildren, and even a few great-great-grandchildren. 

Mavis and Charlie before they were married.

     Mavis has spent her whole life in West Virginia, and I asked her how the Great Depression affected her life in the mountains. She explained that the livestock and produce were raised on the farm, and only the most basic necessities, such as coffee and sugar, were store bought. To this day, Mavis lives on a farm where they raise their own chickens and get food from the garden, and they can their vegetables for the colder seasons.

Bailes Farm in Nettie, WV. 

Bailes Farm in Nettie, WV.

     I asked Mavis several questions about growing up in Appalachia, and I learned that she didn't have indoor plumbing or television until she was in her teens. I asked her if she enjoyed spending her life in West Virginia, and her reply was, "I'd take these mountains and rivers any day." I asked her if she would of liked to live anywhere else, and her response was an immediate "No way!" To wrap things up, I asked Mavis what is happiest memory of living in West Virginia, and she says it's the day she married her husband of 57 years. Thank you for reading, and thank you Mavis for sharing! 

*Do you have a relative or friend that you think should be a Featured Appalachian? Do you have stories about raising your own food or life in the Great Depression? I'd love to hear about it at mountainbloodwv@gmail.com. 

**Also, the Mountain Blood WV community is now on Facebook. Please add MountainBlood WV to share your stories and pictures and get updates about my day-to-day Appalachian life!