The Light At The End - An Adventure In the Gauley Canyon

The Gauley River has an almost mythical standing amongst outdoor enthusiasts in the US.  It’s known for giant, raft-swallowing white water, adventure rock climbing, and providing a playground for folks looking to “play their own way” all along its 105 mile trip from the mountains in Pocahontas County to where it meets the New in Gauley Bridge.  Growing up in Nicholas County, the Gauley has always been a feature in playing outside for me.  We lived a few short miles from the “top Gauley”, upstream of Summersville Lake, and we have had adventures and camping trips, too many to count, on this section of river.  

It occurred to me a while back that other than rafting trips, there is a whole section of the Gauley that I haven’t explored – the section from the dam to Swiss – and as I started planning a trip, I wondered why that might be.  As it turns out, the reason is that the “Gauley Canyon” is as wild and inaccessible as other, more well-known canyons in the state.  There are few roads into the canyon, a rail trail that is blocked at the northern end by a closed tunnel, and is lined with cliff faces and fortresses of rhododendron along its entire length.  

Into The Canyon

My adventure started on Ramsey Branch Road, near Leander.  The drive across this high plateau is quintessential West Virginia, with farms and fields, and small churches, and all of them seeming placed for the highest scenic beauty.  At Ramsey Branch Road, I drove along the ever-narrowing road until I reached a point that was as far as I dared go in my car.  It was a 25F morning, and I was well stocked with snacks and layers, and loaded up my pack to start the trip.  Dropping into the canyon, Ramsey Branch Road quickly became suitable for high-clearance only, with evidence of landslides and washouts from the enormous, "1,000 year flood" from last Summer apparent all the way down. I came round a bend and got my first glimpse of the Gauley; I realized that I was in for a gorgeous day in the woods.  

My goals for the day were to connect three waterfalls – Ramsey Branch, Laurel Creek, and Peter’s Creek into one, roughly 10-mile hike through the canyon.  My route traced an old railroad grade, a line of the Nicholas, Fayette, and Greenbrier Railroad for most of the trip.  Owing to the short winter days, I made up my mind to head for the furthest point first, and then start working my way back – taking photographs and exploring along the way.

The Koontz Tunnel and Peters Junction Trestle

The hike along the grade was incredible.  The river on one side, cliff lines and falling water on the other.  Mileposts from the original railroad are still present along the river, and provide a historic and interesting way to judge your progress.  After about 3 miles, I came to one of the most interesting and mysterious parts of my trip – the Koontz Tunnel.  

There are a few tunnels along this grade, and in my research for this trip, I kept coming across news that the Carnifex Tunnel had been closed by the National Park Service due to the danger of collapse.  This effectively closes the northern end of this trail – and I had some concern that this may be true for the Koontz Tunnel, but thankfully this tunnel was still in good condition and open.  

The Koontz Tunnel is roughly 3,100 feet long, and straight as an arrow.  You can see the other end of the tunnel from the start.  This makes it a bit misleading, as you start walking through the tunnel thinking the other end is closer than it actually is!  Somewhere in the middle of the tunnel, it became so dark I couldn’t see where I was going, and pulled my headlamp out of my pack. 

I was also glad for this tunnel, to follow the river all the way around Koontz Bend would have been quite the detour.  As soon as you exit the tunnel, you launch onto a trestle across the mighty Gauley.  Stepping back into the light, what you notice is the sound of the river running beneath your feet.  Looking up river, you can see cliffs ending right in the water, as if the mountains wanted to further emphasize the suddenness of the terrain. 

Peters Creek Falls

From the trestle, you can see Peters Creek emptying into the Gauley.  This was my first waterfall of the day, just ⅔ of a mile up the drainage from the river.  There is an active rail grade that one could follow at your own risk, or work your way up the drainage from the bottom. I went up the creek and arrived at Peters Creek Falls.  

I was surprised at the size of the falls, having grown up in the area and only now seeing them for the first time!  I worked along the base of the falls, taking some care to keep my camera from the spray at the bottom, and taking extra care on the extremely slippery rocks lining the creek – I can’t over emphasize this, these rocks are SLICK!  The rocks were so slippery that navigating the bank needed both hands and feet to keep from slipping and landing in a pile of rocks.  I used all my points of contact (including sitting down) to make my way out to a small point to take some photos.  This was a good point to sit down, and have my lunch – as this was the turnaround point – roughly 4 ½ miles of hiking from my car. 

Laurel Creek Falls

Leaving Peters Creek, you start retracing your steps – back across the Gauley, and back through the tunnel.  I thought the approach to the tunnel from this side was incredibly picturesque, and noted the “1910” build date on the crown of the tunnel. 

Roughly 2 miles towards the car from Peter’s Creek Falls, you will arrive at the base of Laurel Creek.  The Laurel Creek Road definitely took damage in last year’s flooding. The climb from the rail grade up the first section was demolished.  It was possible to walk up it, but not a lot of fun.  Climbing up the road, you will arrive at what looks like an old campground or picnic site.  Just over the bank is Laurel Creek Falls, one of the most beautiful waterfalls (in this author’s opinion) in West Virginia.  If you just want to look at the falls, you can approach from the top, or from the main road – but if you want to get to the bottom, you need to be willing to get dirty, and you better have a rope or strap that can be used as a handline.  Rigging up the handline, I descended into the creek, and wow – it was putting on a show this day.  The sun was starting to set over the falls, and was casting beautiful light into the mist.  

I spent the better part of an hour photographing the falls, sitting on the bank having a snack, and watching the water flow.  Realizing that I was starting to chase daylight, I used my handline to ascend the bank, and started on the last leg of the trip.  

Ramsey Branch Falls

Back to the main grade, it was roughly 2 miles from the base of Laurel Creek back to the bottom of Ramsey Branch Road.  Dear reader, you may note that I don’t have any photos of Ramsey Branch Falls in this article – and that is because I simply ran out of daylight to photograph them.  The falls are located near the river, roughly 600 feet up-drainage from the rail grade, but I was already pondering needing my headlamp for the climb back to the car.  It is 500 vertical feet over about a mile from the river back to the top, and I was puffing pretty hard by the top of the hill.  The tale of the tape?  10 miles, in total, through some of the prettiest and least-hiked terrain in central West Virginia.  I saw things I have never seen before – and left with a desire to return, many things had only piqued my interest without time to fully explore them (including Ramsey Branch itself!).  A solid day exploring a beautiful part of the state – and I didn’t meet or pass a single other person all day.  Truly an underappreciated gem.  

S

Getting to the Top - Seneca Rocks (Daytripper Issue Feature!)

This is our third feature for Daytripper in 2016, and we've really enjoyed working with them!  Words below by Carmen Bowes, Photos by Sam Taylor

Life’s progress is not easily measured in the present. We do a lot of looking back and thinking of ways we could have done something differently. Rock climbing is not this way. You can try hard to complicate it, you can make it so many small problems and puzzles, but at its core there is only one clear goal: get to the top.

Seneca Rocks

Seneca Rocks in Pendleton County, WV is one of the most astounding landmarks in this state. It is two massive fins of Tuscarora quartzite sticking straight out of a mountain and standing proud above the trees and valley below. If you haven’t seen it, go. You won’t be disappointed. The north peak of Seneca is accessible by a trail that winds up the mountain. The south peak, however, is only accessible by technical rock climbing. This means it is more challenging and steep than “hard, up-hill walking” will allow. You have to use your hands and feet and makes moves to get up this thing.

The first time I summited the south peak of Seneca Rocks I felt like I had done the impossible. I had climbed 300 feet of technical climbing to get to this place. I was invincible and then I remembered that I had to rappel off of the 300-foot-face. Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven’t done this, get your big-kid pants on. It is a long way to the ground and you get to look at all of that open air as you slide down the rope. It is the single most exhilarating thing I have ever done.

Get to the Top

For this trip, we have a guide. His name is Stephen, he is super nice, and he loves to teach people how to rock climb. I will paraphrase for him because we were on the side of a rock face when he said this to me (notes were not easily taken). He said of his teaching and guiding that he loves seeing people achieve things they thought were unachievable. That is one of the most romantic things I have heard anyone say about their day job.

With Stephen in front, we take off out of the picturesque parking lot toward the fins. We cross a small creek before attacking the affectionately-named “Stairmaster.” It is steep and keeps going for much longer than we want it to. I am covered in sweat and my calves ware pounding when we reach the start of our route.

After catching our breath we put on our harnesses and check the long rope for knots before we start up a route called “Le Gourmet.” Stephen and Sam both go up ahead of me and I watch them both as they climb. I pay attention to their hands and feet, noting which ledges they use as they go. I put my already-tired calves to work as I move. Each pull up the face I take, the more exposed the world behind me becomes.

I see Stephen and Sam waiting on the ledge above me and take a moment to turn around. I have quickly put 70 feet between the ground and myself. The trees roll away from the bottom of the face down into the valley. I can already see the roads stretching out. It is a warm, sunshiny summer day.

We follow our leader up a pitch of a route called “Front C” and then finish out on the classic “Old Man’s.” We walk up the summit ledge and get to the final scramble that takes us to the top. I climb up the polished rock. It is slick from decades of shoes wearing away at the quartzite. I look up from my feet and the world opens up. I see a cozy farm hiding behind the rocks and valleys trailing off into the distance. The summit is narrow and tight. Stephen grabs an old ammo box and hands it to me. I pull the notebook from the inside and sign my name with the note, “Summit #2!” I hand it to Sam.

After a while we traverse the summit and set up to begin our rappel. My hands are sweating and my heart is fluttering. I lean back and look over the edge, the drop takes my breath away. The breeze blows across us on the face. Stephen sets up our rappel devices and takes off down the rope. After what seems like 20 seconds I barely hear his voice yell that I am to begin mine. I lean back into the air and let my weight take me down.

I slide slowly down the length of the rope until I awkwardly find my feet again. The earth feels solid and immovable. I think to myself “I got to the top” and I smile big. Sam follows me down and we haul out the gear. We got to the top.

A Note about Our Guides

Seneca Rocks Mountain Guides have an awesome spot. It is tucked between the road and Seneca Creek. They have a few small camp sites available to those who book trips with them and an outdoor shower with a view of the rocks. There is a fire ring and a small bar where folks can kick back after a day of playing hard. In addition to privately guided trips, they offer several other courses and programs. They work closely with the Adventuresports Institute at Garrett College in Maryland to set up learning opportunities for folks just beginning to the more experienced climber looking to craft a specific skill. The man that runs the place is Tom Cecil. He is a bit of a legend in these parts with some really epic first ascents and a solid 40 years of climbing under his belt. He has built an incredible facility with the intention of allowing room and opportunity to grow as a climber and hone your skills. These folks are professional and excited. I highly recommend them.

West Virginia Flooding 2016 - Print Sale Benefiting Nicholas County

Hi Folks - as you have probably heard on the news recently, Central West Virginia was devastated by flooding last week, in many cases setting all-time historic records for water levels. 

The town I grew up in is one of those towns that was hit heavily by the floods - Richwood, West Virginia - and there were many other areas with heavy damage in Nicholas County, including Fenwick, Birch River and Belva. 

http://wvpublic.org/post/federal-disaster-relief-making-its-way-wva-after-severe-flooding

We went down to help hand out supplies and participate in the cleanup last weekend, as will probably be the case for weekends to come.  It was a pretty tough thing to see - the little neighborhood my brother lives in is the same neighborhood my grandmother lived in - and they were hard hit.  As we went door-to-door handing out water and cleaning supplies, I knew just about everyone, and had played in their yards or had dinner in their houses as a boy growing up. 

As a result of all of this, and in a bid to do our little part

ALL PROFITS from any in-stock item sold from now through July 2016 will be donated to the Nicholas County Community Foundation

to provide funds for flood recovery in Nicholas County. 

http://www.samueltaylorphoto.com/print-shop/

I'm not explicitly including any big, custom piece or custom framed print orders in this special, simply because I'm not sure I will have time to fulfill large piece orders in the next month or so - if you wish to have a piece made to support this cause, please contact me directly, so we can discuss in more detail.  I'll be working to update the website with any other "in-stock" items we have. 

You can find more information about the NCCF at their website and Facebook page

http://nccfwv.com/wordpress/

http://www.facebook.com/Nicholas-County-Community-Foundation-130148843729103/?fref=nf

Thanks to all of you for your support.  Hope to see you on the front lines. 

S

Constant - Our First Trip To Otter Creek

Sam and I have a collection of adventures that we want to reinvestigate. We find them without enough time and preparation to really give them the full test and then it takes us a while to get back. They are all beautiful places that left us wanting to stay, explore, and take time to truly appreciate the view, the wildlife, the plant life, or the remoteness. Otter Creek catapulted itself into this little collection of ours after we did a day trip there just a few weeks ago.

Otter Creek Wilderness in early spring:

We arrive sometime around 1:30 p.m. and take off up the trail. It is one of those days where you are pretty certain you will get rained on but you go on the adventure anyways because you’ve never been there before and because you’ve heard great things about the spot and because hiking out wet is terrible but not doing the hike is worse. The first part of the hike is mellow; we walk down a gravel path that leads us to a suspension bridge. It rocks as we cross.

Once across the bridge the trail becomes difficult for about a quarter mile. The ground slides under our feet and the rocks are slick. Our caked boots do very little to find traction. After a little ways the trail veers away from the creek for a moment and leads us to an old rail grade. As we walk, we find all sorts of interesting plants; strange things that are purple and green and fuchsia.

The rail grade leads us to a creek crossing. The water from the spring rain is big and we struggle to stay out of it as we hop rocks across. There is moss creeping and the fiddle heads uncurl around us. As our elevation increases the trillium start to turn their heads to us. We trace the creek on our trail. There are lots of little cascades. I look across the creek at some point and see a meadow of tiny purple flowers growing out of a rocky beach. This place is pretty.

We hike on, finding cool little bits of the timbering history as we go. After a while we come around a bend in the trail that takes us about a hundred yards from the creek. In front of us is a sea of purple, pink, white, yellow, and fuchsia wild flowers. The trees above are umbrellas for all of their little faces. I want to lay in them and breathe in their pretty, light smell. I think, “I could live here with all of you.”

We are running out of daylight so we decide we will turn around when the trail meets back up with the creek. We reach our turnaround spot and between the trail and the creek there is a small camp site. We walk down the path and I get out some snacks. Sam wanders down the creek a ways. When he comes back he says, “You have to come check this out!” I follow him to the prettiest pebble beach. There is a big turn in the stream that hugs the spot.

I don’t want to leave but the real world is calling. This is not one of those adventures that land us in some state of exhaustion and frustration. The hike out is easy and fast. We watch the flowers wiz by us and are nearly out when raindrops start to fall on our heads.

We cross the swinging bridge back to the car. But really, we cross the swinging bridge back to work, bills, peanut-butter-sandwich-breakfasts, late-night freezer meals, 5 a.m. mornings that lead to 1 a.m. nights, and all of the parts of our very full lives. We take each day and we pack it as full as possible. It is not pretty; it is tiring. A lot of times, it is challenging to get motivated. The answer to being motivated is built by doing, constantly doing.

Our full days are why we have a collection of adventures that need to be done over again. We had other things that had to get done but one of these days, we will go back and do Otter Creek and all of our other projects the way they should be done: with backpacks, sweat, tents, food made with a camp stove, tired legs, sore shoulders, waking up to see the mist burning off the river and smelling the dew settle in, and all of the things we missed when we were filling our days with constant doing.

Tamarack - 2016 Best Of West Virginia Open Juried Exhibition

Wow! We got in!

Feeling excited and humbled to have our piece "Milky Way Over Scenic Highway" selected for the Tamarack 2016 "Best of West Virginia Open Juried Exhibition"! It's an honor to be included with some of the best artists in the state.

The show runs from June 19 - August 7 at the Tamarack Gallery, in Beckley, WV.  This is a huge honor for us, as Tamarack is known as one of the premier locations for the arts and artisans in the state.

The piece we were selected for is shown below - and was mounted as a 30"x60" acrylic/plexi print! 

Thanks to all of y'all for your love and support!

Strong Bricks - The Lost Town of Hammond

The logging road is muddy; we slide around coming down the mountain. We parked the red truck at the top and hiked in. The yellow leaves are just barely hanging onto the trees; most of the others have already fallen to the ground lying in a carpet across the forest. It is one of those perfectly warm autumn days that make you wish summer would loop back around and start all over again.

This adventure is close to home, it is just downriver from Valley Falls. Sam found some new creeks to investigate for waterfalls. We do this sometimes, we find a creek on a map and just go hike the thing to see what we find. Sam is driven by finding photos that no one else has, he wants the original image. In a world of documenters, this proves challenging.

Sam and I are both curious people, constantly seeking out the history and beauty of a place we visit and wander into. My eyes are always combing the woods as I hike; I have found all sorts of interesting bits of the past among the leaves. Nearly all of WV has been timbered or mined at some point and the trails we follow are often remnants of some old rail grade or road built for extraction and not much more.

Today we hike the logging road that follows the creek. Rhododendron separates us from the water by just 20 feet or so. We listen for the thundering sound of plunging cascades and fight through the thicket several times to find pretty but unexceptional, small whitewater sections.

Because we are curious we continue down the drainage. We are getting closer and closer to the river, the road wraps around the topography of the hillside, following the valley cut by the creek. We wind around a curve and I look into the woods and see an old brick foundation. It isn’t crumbling but it has toppled at some point. The bricks say Fairmont, WV. They are strong and still hold their pretty color.

I was fueled on. There has to be other bits of forgotten life. We walk down the road and the closer we get to the river, the more certain I am that there is nothing left to see. The railroad tracks are in sight, we can see the old pretty arch out of hand-chiseled stone that supports the bridge over our waterfall-less creek. A remnant of a road goes down under the bridge and we follow it down. We see a rough-cut sign made from trash that says, “Please take all your garbage, don’t trash Hammond.”

We walk under the arches and pass to the same side of the tracks as the river. We walk down the road, it is solid. It is solid. That is strange; roads in the forest are usually soft. Sam says, “Is that brick?” I push the leaves back, bricks line up under them. Cobblestone, we are walking on cobblestone. We follow the bricks and they lead us to more bricks, foundations, piles and piles of bricks, chimneys, and more arches, all of them made of pretty brick. Some of them say Bessemer. Some say Tygart and some say Resist. Everything is made of brick, all of it except the bridge under the train tracks.

We hike out; it is a steep climb to the top of the mountain where our truck waits. I go home and begin researching Hammond. I was half expecting a mine or timber camp. It was neither, what it was: a brick factory. It wasn’t just any brick factory; some of those bricks are in the Empire State Building. They were brought to the Chicago World Fair and were the best fire bricks in the U.S. The town burned in 1950 and never recovered. In 1972 the town was bought by a mining company and the road was blocked. So many stories of success in this state end this way.

I am fascinated by these abandoned structures. Did someone live here, did they work here, was this a place where meals were cooked or was it some kind of machine house? The question that will never be answered fully: how is it that it was here, people lived or worked here in this structure years ago and how is it that they are no longer here working or living in it? How is this structure in the middle of nowhere completely uninhabited? This is a story that spans our state. There are structures that were built for function, we may not have assembled them well, they may have toppled, but their pieces are here still. The structure did not stand but the bricks were strong, the bricks stood the test of time.

Hike to High Falls of the Cheat (Daytripper Waterfall Issue Feature!)

High Falls of the Cheat

“I hiked over a mountain to be here”

By: Carmen Bowes

Photos By: Sam Taylor

The first time I did the hike to High Falls of the Cheat, it was fall and the cinnamon ferns were exploding with color; reaching up towards the sky before splashing into a mass as tall as my shoulders. The fields were golden and swaying in the cool autumn breeze. It held that first crisp hint of colder weather.

Now, driving out the dirt road on this warm spring day, I don’t know what to expect. It is that time of year when things aren’t quite pretty yet. The snow has gone but the rich West Virginia green hasn’t filled in the trees and undergrowth.

Sam & I both have our eyes fixed on the right side of the road. The trail head and wide spot had to be close. We creep by a pull-off and then the trail appears, although we had to turn around and come back to park. The trail is remote. It starts on a back road of a back road outside of Glady, WV outside Elkins, WV and is marked only by a small sign that says “High Falls.”

Footbridge over Glady Fork

We slug on our backpacks and descend into the forest. The trail greets us with a squishy, marshy bottom and leads us over a small foot bridge that crosses a stream just below a beaver dam. The sticks are stacked and crammed into a heap. We hear water trickling through the small muddy cracks. A gate from an old homestead lies just on the other side of the bridge; a remnant of another time.

We walk past the gate and out of the woods into a huge clearing. The hawthorn trees are naked and spiky. They cover the field like some kind of twisted orchard. We cross the West Fork Trail and continue through the clearing. The hardwood trees show scars of lightning and fire. The field is full of briars that were not there in the fall.

The clearing ends and we start the uphill push over the mountain. The woods smell good, the ground is damp and muddy in spots. The trail turns into steep, slippery miniature mudslides in spots. Tiny spring beauties pop up through the disintegrating leaves. As we climb, the floor of the forest becomes mossy. The dirt we have been trampling gives way to rocks covered in green sponge and hemlocks that seem ancient. The smell of the rich, damp dirt is exactly how a forest should smell.  

Along the trail

There is a sweet little campsite off the trail on top of the mountain. It has a fire circle with logs situated all around. It is in the middle of the grove of hemlocks and I think of waking up there, stepping out of my tent into this gorgeous place.

We wrap around the top of the mountain and begin our decent into the Shavers Fork drainage. The leaves from last fall hide the details of the trail. We stumble and trip and nearly plunge down the mountain. Finally we reach the railroad tracks. The river below assumes a pretty, earthy green color.

We turn right on the tracks and walk towards High Falls. I can smell the ancient tar warming up in the railroad ties. In the fall the tracks were lined with yellow evening primrose. They were standing strong and sturdy. They are waiting now, in the dirt and gravel, for the heat of summer so that they can push up again.

We come around the bend and see the train stop that signals the waterfall. We walk the small trail to the water and take in the bigness.  This waterfall is perfect. It spans the whole river, the curtains falling from a big shelf; 18 feet high and 150 feet wide.  

The wind is warm for March and pushes itself across the rocky beach just below the falls. The first time I sat next to this waterfall, I had hiked over a mountain to be here. I was sitting on the vacant observation deck above the falls while Sam took pictures. I was having a snack and taking in all of the power of the place and a large older man walked out on the deck and looked down at me. I looked up at him and it took me a moment to register him. Behind him more men clad in Harley Davidson gear walked onto the platform. I had forgotten that there is a train tour that brings people to this spot; it feels so far from things otherwise.

Today we have it mostly to ourselves except a few other hikers. I find a rock to have a snack while Sam takes pictures. The sandstone on the beach is tinted light blues and purples from the minerals housed within. I watch Sam move around on the beach, he is silhouetted by the waterfall. The rhododendron near the falls flutters in the wind.

We take a last look and turn to make the hike out. It is challenging and steep but we pace ourselves and make it out with enough time to stop by Whistle Stop Café in Elkins. It is strange to drive back to civilization. I think of sitting on the rocky beach staring at the curtains of water and I want to go back.

Walking the tracks.  This is the preferred route, noted in the official trail description!

Wonderful West Virginia Magazine - Spring Image Feature!

Very excited to have one of our images featured in the April 2016 issue of Wonderful West Virginia Magazine!

The issue features "Springtime" photographs, and our image of a Thunderstorm over downtown Morgantown was chosen as part of that feature.  Super cool! 

Prints and licenses of this image are available, just contact us!