October Weekend

Nature's gifts are simple pleasures, meditations, and if we are open to them, they allow us to enjoy all of the senses, returning us to a time not dominated by television, cell phones, and computers.  On an autumn weekend with our friends, Billy and Shari, we were attuned to each other and happily sharing this time, enjoying the mountain splendor along our drive from our homes in Fayetteville, eastward into Pocahontas and Greenbrier counties in West Virginia, and the rolling countryside that borders Virginia.



This weekend was almost a full month after our visit with our Florida friends, and the mountains were ablaze with color.  Along the way, the views took our collective breath -- with riotous russet, ruby, rose, gold, mustard, orange, salmon, and rich dark evergreen, brilliance that was laughing and rolling across the mountains and the valley bowls.  We leaned out of the windows madly snapping pictures in the October sunlight of colors that could never really be captured.


An extra perk is that where we were headed had no cell or Internet service, and at our cabin, the television sat quietly, its only purpose appearing to be a vehicle for dvds, which we didn't bring and weren't interested in watching.



Billy and Shari, both National Park Rangers, have lived in some of the most beautiful country in the United States, from the wilds of Alaska to the wilds of Key West, and were eager to see more of West Virginia.

Billy and Shari at Watoga's lake

Our first stop was at Lewisburg for TOOT (not a drug, but it oughta be illegal!).  Taste of Our Town is a yearly fall downtown event where main shopping streets are open only to foot traffic, and folks are seen surrendering to the sights and aromas of wonderful cuisine of the local restaurants and caterers:  and even I, a vegetarian, found at one table, plump and tender spinach ravioli in a tomato/cream sauce, and further down the street at another table, a soft tortilla wrap, bulging with avocado, cucumber, and lettuce, smothered in wasabi mayonnaise-- the experience was crunchy and freshly delicious with a bite.

While Greg, Billy, and Shari tested locally-produced beers at the outdoor biergarten, I headed across the street, bypassed tables from two West Virginia wineries (can you believe it?), to enter a favorite pub/restaurant of mine, Del Sol, for their signature Bloody Mary.  And while there, I sat at the crowded bar to watch WVU's first score, a field goal, against the University of Connecticut.  Back outside, beside the biergarten, we stood near a flatbed trailer which was parked at the sidewalk bordering the parklike grounds surrounding Carnegie Hall (the Carnegie family built this one, too).  The trailer served as the town event's stage for musical performances, including one by a Fayetteville friend.

When we had been sated, on we traveled to the cabin that another Fayetteville friend had graciously loaned us for the weekend;  it sits in the woods near the Greenbrier River and the tiny village of Seebert, itself just outside the entrance to my favorite West Virginia state park, Watoga.  The cabin was very comfortable with two bedrooms, a living/dining room dominated by an 8-foot wide river rock fireplace, hardwood floors, a tiled modern kitchen and bath.  The rustic decor included interior wood doors constructed with Z-bracing and black metal latches.  The cabin sat on a large piece of land, I'd guess well over an acre;  and at the back was a storage garage;  behind it, we found a rack with canoes and kayaks.  The land was ringed by forest, and a narrow gravel drive lead to other cabins on their own acreage.

After we unloaded our bikes and carried in our supplies and clothes, Greg disappeared.  I walked outside onto the wrap-around porch and down into the back yard to find him overseeing the slow progress of a  5-1/2 foot black snake which had been sunning himself in the yard.  Greg was guiding him, by encroaching on his space slowly and kindly, holding aloft a 6-foot long branch, watching him slide through the grass to the edge of the property.  I watched it curl around a tree and slip from sight into the undergrowth. I was surprisingly calm, merely curious.  This is a new experience for me in that I would normally have shrieked and run.  Further evidence of my transition occurred later.  That night, while we were sipping beverages seated at the fire pit, an 8-inch garter snake slithered from under my camp chair and away from us.  I watched with quiet interest.  Perhaps nature has finally calmed me into becoming one with it?

But let's back up a few hours, for between our arrival and our nighttime chat, we had driven to Marlinton, stood in line for an hour at the Marlinton Opera House (built in 1910)  to nab tickets to a Leon Redbone concert for that same evening.  We discovered when we entered that the seats weren't assigned, so we walked straight to the front, and found four seats one row from the stage.   What luck!  And the concert was a hoot, with only Mr. Redbone, his guitar, and a terrific player on an antique upright piano.  We felt as if we'd magically whisked back in time to Vaudeville, the house completely full with what we figured was about 500 happy attendees.

The next morning we celebrated with mimosas, gratefully cuddled in the living room in front of the fire which was chasing away the chill of the previous night.  But the sun was climbing, the chill was lifting and we were ready to be out to enjoy the day (no jackets required), biking on the Greenbrier River Rail Trail, where we passed occasional cabins with porches and decks overlooking the lazy river.

Riding on the Greenbrier Rail Trail

It was a good day!

Cheese and crackers were extra tasty shared on a great boulder at the river's edge;  breathing deeply of the forest and river, we watched fish swim at our feet with the trees' reflection of gold and russet in the sparkling water.  Our weekend was much too short.

Greenbrier River

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