Coal

New River Gorge National Park & Preserve

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The bridge over the gorge is huge; it’s one of the highest in the world and the largest single arch bridge in the western hemisphere. I took some nice pictures of it, when I drove the old Fayetteville Station Road and crossed on the old one lane bridge. Some of the commercial raft trips end there, and it’s fun to watch them take their last rapid. The most crowded part of the park is the Canyon Rim Visitor Center near the bridge, where many folks stop to have ice cream or picnic.

But the bridge is not the point of the park. The New River watershed is huge and very old. It starts in North Carolina near the Blue Ridge Parkway, includes the Bluestone and Gauley scenic rivers, and flows up to the Kanawha which is a major tributary into the Ohio River. The photo above shows folks fishing at Sandstone Falls, far upstream of the famous bridge. It’s a lovely spot with plenty of birds, an easy hike and a boardwalk.

The point is that the whole area was ruined by coal mining. This was the land of John Henry, if you know the old song about a railroad tunnel dug here. Now coal is more expensive than renewable energy, and many of the mines here have closed, becoming ‘exhibition mines’—fascinating tour in Beckley—, historic sites or slowly forgotten. A few coal trains still run through the gorge, but the park is now protected and recovering. Tourism generates more income and jobs now, and West Virginia is one of the most beautiful states in the US. The park is proof that we can change and improve. The point is that we can choose to save nature, instead of destroying it, and that it’s never too late to start trying.

Well every Monday morning
When the bluebirds begin to sing
You can hear John Henry a mile or more
You can hear John Henry’s hammer ring, Lord, Lord
 You can hear John Henry’s hammer ring

—A folk song

Steamtown National Historic Site

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Coal-burning transportation? What kind of site is this?!? Well, I rode a steam locomotive, and I liked it. Thankfully, this form of transportation is obsolete, replaced by the diesel-electric hybrid. So, I’m here to celebrate the demise of the historic steam engines, and I hope that coal-burning will soon go the way of the dinosaur. But I’m not driving to these sites by electric vehicle to skip the guided tours and lessons of history. If traveling 3 miles on a multi-million pound vehicle is the only way to learn the difference between local hard anthracite and common soft bituminous coal, then I’ll pay my $6 to get the full historic experience, 45 minutes of carbon fuel be damned.

Before visiting Scranton, I didn’t understand why President Joe Biden was such a fan of trains. Well, this place is a fascinating Mecca for rail-fans. The old trains were part of Blount’s Edaville RR amusement parks in New England, before being saved from the scrapyard through donations of train-spotters across the country. Here, our tax dollars are converted to educational opportunities for kids of all ages, to teach about the Gilded Age of RR Barons and the gritty roots of Pennsylvania. (A history echoed, perhaps, in the local Senate campaigns of Dr Oz v. Fetterman).

Scranton is also known as the Electric City, because they skipped the whole “horse-driven trolley” stage and started off first with all-electric trolleys. The best time to adopt future technology is always now. The county runs a museum right next door with electric trolley rides, but, since they’re not part of the National Park Service, I skipped it. (The whole ‘Zero Carbon Travel’ idea can be confusing at times).

This summer, I’ve had people try to tell me that Americans will never give up their loud smelly cars and that EV’s are somehow worse for the economy than gas cars. There’s a whole industry of anti-electric propaganda out there, doubtless funded by folks who would lose out if we all switched to electric vehicles. There’s actually no real economic argument for continuing heading for disaster. The Titanic received seven warnings about icebergs, but refused to either slow down or alter course. The loss of the ship disproved that brand of short-sighted “economics”. We can now see the beginnings of the carbon climate disaster unfolding, so there’s no excuse for inaction.