Day 2 - We're Going on an Adventure, to find Mountain Momma

Wake up, brush our teeth, pack our lunches and get out the door. Our second day going to Oak Hills Elementary started off feeling the same as the first, until we reached the parking lot and realized we weren’t quite ready to step out into the thirty-degree weather at nine in the morning. So, after taking our time to get out of the comfortably heated cars, we finally made our way back to the building extension where there was still more painting to be done. We were welcomed on our second day with the same group as Monday; Dave, with a big smile on his face as he tried to remember all of our names, Crash, Daniel, and Dillon, all who seemed to be waking up at the same lagging speed as our group. We also had been accompanied this day by John Flack, a representative from Americorp, who would oversee our progress and the working habits of the SALS employees for the rest of the week. John, being a friendly and insightful West Virginia native, would also be one of our excursion leaders later in the week and a close friend to our Rutgers ASB family.

After the morning introductions, we went to work. Our group had split the same as Monday with half remaining in the warm, insulated, HEATED extension building to continue painting while the rest were sent to the dark, dust filled, and freezing cold elementary school. Upon grabbing our brooms and preparing to sweep the place clean, the Florida International University (FIU) alternative break students accompanied us. Their presence in the school was beneficial in helping to sweep as members of our group began filtering to the warmer extension building to help with painting. Things balanced out and we had a set group in each location. By the end of the day, the painters had put finishing touches on the first and second coat of paint while the sweepers had emptied desk filled rooms and discovered the school’s huge second floor auditorium.

Upon returning back to base camp, our group was eager to adventure, after all, we didn’t come to wild West Virginia to stay in and play charades all day. SALS members had mentioned an old coalmine hidden in the backwoods of Beards Fork and without thinking twice about it we jumped on the road and began walking. Knowing how much mining and coal meant to the WV population, we wanted to get a little taste for ourselves of what the fuss was all about.

We strolled down the holler passing by houses lined up feet apart from each other without a front yard between their doors and the street we walked on. These houses were generational, meaning the families living in them today are descendants of the people who lived in them dating years back. They were built during times of segregation and the community had been cut in half with the first stretch of houses white families and the other black with one mixed couple living ironically on the corner of the streets. Our group approached the fork in the road, we had to determine which way would bring us to the coal mine. By instinct, we continued our hike to the right without any hesitation to our decision.

At the end of the community was a chapel and the road became dirt, seemingly patted down by construction vehicles. We were entering the wilderness of West Virginia. The trail was flat for the first five hundred paces of our trip, but we figured out where WVU got their Moutaineer mascot from very quickly as we began climbing. We finally got the adventure we asked for as we trekked up the uninhabited mountain and crossed over a stream by means of an improvised bridge. The quiet of the mountain was eerie. The only life forms to be found were the hawks gliding above us.

It was clear we weren’t the first to voyage this far along the trail as we came across countless pieces of litter ranging from soda cans, to a mini fridge, to a car. There was a broken down easy-bake oven that was dropped in the brush off the side of the trail deep in the woods. With the day growing later and our stomachs not getting any fuller, we followed good instinct and turned back down the mountain before reaching the coal mine. We briefly caught our breaths and had a photo shoot of the literal “face” of the mountain. We deemed her, “Mountain Momma.”

We returned to the start of the trail in disappointment we couldn’t reach the finish line and see a real coalmine. It was decided that we would hike the trail again leaving ourselves more time. As we retraced our steps down the holler, a tall man exited his house to get a glimpse of our tourist group from his porch. He was nice and told us all about his little community, how he had grown up in the same house all his life and raised his kids likewise. He was proud to mention how his sons had gone to the University, moved out of Beards Fork and made names for themselves in their respective careers. He also wanted to know a good deal about us, but we were too caught up in his story to even speak. Before parting ways with the kind man, we told him how we were frustrated that we didn't reach the coalmine at the end of the path.  To our dismay, he told us our mistake and how to get there.  “You shoulda’ turned left at the fork!” We had a good reflection that night after that long day.