The Morgantowner: November 2019

It's been my practice since we moved to Morgantown in July of 2012 to hit a county within three hundred miles of Morgantown every month. October was nuts, with the Jewish holidays and my OLLI class, but I thought I could visit Cumberland County, Virginia, with a population of about 10,000 people, Saturday to Monday, the 26th to the 28th. I had to miss an unveiling Sunday and a meeting of City Councilors with visiting dignitaries from Ukraine. I was worried about visiting the county when I heard that their conservative Republican congressman, Denver Riggleman, was censured by the Cumberland County Republican Party for officiating at a same-gender wedding. Of course, I'm not so obviously gay when traveling alone (and dressing down), so it's not much of a problem. I understand that I have the privilege of "passing" that others don't have.

Then I was exhausted Thursday and Friday, and didn't sleep well Friday night after the cat woke me at 3:30 My stomach was rumbling, and I kept thinking about what I said to a group of pharmacy students Thursday. I was supposed to tell them about "Jewish culture," but I'm not sure what that means in America today. I probably should have said "We are a tribe, with a country most Jews have never visited and many don't like, a language most don't understand, holy books most have never read, and a Deity most Jews don't believe in. Still, whether it's food our grandparents made that we no longer eat (too fat and salty), an immigrant narrative, a race memory of the Holocaust, or a deep distrust of our non-Jewish neighbors, most Jews will tell you how proud they are of their heritage." That would have baffled them. I think they were left with the impression that Jews (me, anyway) talk fast and loud, wave their hands around, and are highly opinionated. There is some truth to that stereotype.

I got up at six that Saturday, made breakfast and got out around 9:30. I was still sleepy, and thought I should pull over and nap. I took the back way, across the covered bridge in Phillipi, and over the mountains. Suddenly, I felt better. I ate a banana and a protein bar along the way, but waited until about 2 P.M., when I got to Staunton, in the Shenandoah Valley, to actually eat a stale bagel at a coffee house. That's part of being Jewish, too, complaining about the bagels outside of New York City. I got to Cumberland Court House, the county seat, containing just the county offices, some old houses and a restaurant, around four, took a few pics and was asleep at my hotel in Farmville, a few miles south in Prince Edward County by five. On awaking, I bought gas and a sandwich at Sheetz, the Pennsylvania-based convenience store and gas station, checked the internet, and slept through the night, until late.

There are sixteen historic places on the National Register throughout Cumberland County. My intent was to visit all of them. Unfortunately, it was pouring down rain when I left the motel, but it stopped after a half hour, cleared up, and most of the day was warm and sunny. I was back in Cumberland Court House by 11 and stopped at the one local restaurant for lunch, beating the after-church crowd. I had the special: pot roast and gravy, with carrots and potatoes and I picked candied yams and apple sauce for my sides, and cornbread. The waitress, Shirley, was fiftyish, with gold cross earrings. I remember that my grandmother used to say "It's a pity on an old lady, she should have to work", and tipped heavily. I felt sorry for her for having to work on Sunday, and left a generous but not extravagant tip. Except for the cornbread, my grandmother in New York City cooked all of those foods. I just about never eat beef anymore, and nothing on my plate was technically diet-approved.

I visited Bear Creek Lake State Park, and walked a "moderate" hike of 1.75 miles, but actually longer because of a few wrong turns. The temperature had risen above 80. I worked off the pot roast.

I ended the day in Cartersville, a tiny historic village at the north end of the county along the James River. There are just a few homes, one previously an inn, and a bridge over the James River to the north and the next county. The old bridge is on the National Register, and pieces of it remain.

I didn't think a heavily Republican county of 10,000 people out in the middle of nowhere would be interesting. Still, with beautiful weather and great scenery, I enjoyed myself. At home, I wouldn't take a whole day to just go out and explore. That's the point of going away.

I came back Monday the way Google Maps suggested, state roads to Interstate 64 near Charlottesville, then north on Interstate 81, through back roads in Hardy and Grant Counties, West Virginia, to unfinished (and therefore rarely traveled) four lane, divided U.S. 48, then through Garrett County, Maryland to I-68 back home. It's not as scenic as two-lane U.S. 250, but still over the mountains. The roads are less winding, and the leaves were at peak color, making for a beautiful ride.