All too soon, Cajun and Country Week at Augusta Heritage Center came to a close. Students cleared out for home early Saturday, and I and a few other holdovers, waiting for Blues Week to start on Monday, scrambled to find easy non-musical pursuits to rest our overloaded brains.
First, into the mountains to witness the gently unfolding pink petals of rhododendron, along an Otter Creek Wilderness trail.
I paused. Listened carefully.
Prudence prevailed. Rather than running ahead, potentially to help a wounded walker, I retreated from the mostly deserted Otter Creek Wilderness in favor of a different recreation area--Bear Heaven--that turned out to be just as deserted. But this one had a view.
A quiet day; a pleasant interlude. Yawn.... No music jams tonight; just a good night's sleep in my new AirBnB lodging.
What to do in a podunk town on a sleepy summer Sunday morning? Shops closed. College quiet. Streets empty. No, wait, not completely empty...there's a classic car show in the town square.
And a bustling train station. Then it's aaaaaalllllll aboard for an excursion on a vintage (I.e., old, smelly) diesel train to the High Falls of the Cheat River. (High refers to altitude, not height of the drop.)
Traveling alone? We have a half-empty table reserved just for you, in the Parlor Car. Away from the riff-raff. Enjoy the sophisticated roast beef-and-cheese-with-mustard-sandwich buffet.
"On the left you can begin to see views of the scenic Shavers Fork River." (And--unsaid--trailer homes with outhouses, shot-out windows of wooden shacks, fancy RV parks on the river for rich people.) "As we gain elevation, you will see spectacular river views." Maybe a tad overblown. Still, a quietly pleasant trip.
We pass the sites of former lumber and coal camps, mostly deserted because they are accessible only by train, and of course those are defunct (except for nostalgic tourist excursions.) Onward and upward. Only to come to an abrupt stop at the start of a 180-degree curve, which our tourist train cannot negotiate. "The sharpest mainline curve east of the Rockies." End of the line for "the little engine that couldn't."
Instead, a little walk in the woods. Then suddenly it's Niagara! Well, quarter-sized Niagara, maybe. And obligatory-picture-taking time.
Then it's aaaaaallllllll aboard again--back down the mountain to Elkins and the rest of the sleepy summer Sunday afternoon