When the shepherds were told they’d find Christ the Lord wrapped in swaddling clothes, they probably didn’t expect to discover a black dog swaddled inside a thick green blanket. But dogs are pretty redeeming creatures, and even dogs get cold, so why not?
Orbit was recently swaddled in an old sleeping bag to get through a couple of chilly nights at the New River Gorge in West Virginia, which isn’t exactly Bethlehem but it is a mecca for climbing in the East. We had such a good time here last Thanksgiving that we wanted to return to explore more of the 1,000-foot-deep gorge and scale more of its cliffs. We had two full days of climbing in late November before the rain sent us packing.
We spent our first day at an area called Beauty Mountain, home of one of the gorge’s best trad routes: The four-star-rated Super Crack, which has 100 feet of continuous 5.9 climbing through several roofs and a long dihedral. Below are two photos of me leading, and then of Orbit guarding the rocks while Jenna followed and cleaned our gear from the crack.
We camped each night outside town at Arrowhead Bike Farm, which is a combination livestock farm plus mountain biking center plus campground. It was all but abandoned for the season, giving us the entire place to ourselves. Mornings were chilly, with layers of frost and sleet covering our tent and picnic table.
Our second day, we climbed at an area called Junkyard, so-called because it used to be a local dumping ground for all kinds of junk, from washing machines to millions of glass bottles, which there’s still evidence of. Among a number of routes here, we climbed two top-rated 5.9 routes called Dreamtime (three stars) and Four Sheets to the Wind (four stars).
Below is a photo of me leading the first crux of Dreamtime and then of Jenna following on the 70-foot-long route, which had a series of somewhat strenuous (i.e. scary) roofs. At the third and final roof, I lunged upward with a left hand to a dusty, sloping lip and began to slip, barely managing to throw up a right hand to a better hold before I fell. (My palms sweat profusely as I write this.)
After two full days of climbing, the rain began pouring…
With the cliffs soaked, we spent our final day exploring the surrounding area. We drove to the state capital of Charleston and walked around, coming across a tall statue of a rugged coal miner prominently displayed outside the Capitol Building. The miner wears a hardhat with head lantern, suspenders hoist up his work pants, and a tool belt is equipped with a cylindrical oil lamp. Guys like him once ruled the New River Gorge, burrowing deep into the sides of the gorge during the first half of the 20th century. Abandoned coal towns now dot the area.
In an admiring eulogy to the fossil fuel industry that underscores West Virginia’s borderline-religious ties to coal, the plaque below the sculpture reads:
In honor and in recognition of the men and women who have devoted a career, some a lifetime, towards providing the state, nation and world with low-cost, reliable household and industrial energy… Let it be said that “Coal” is the fuel that helped build the greatest country on earth, has protected and preserved freedom and has enhanced our quality of life. God Bless the West Virginia Coal Miner!
