West Virginia

No, West Virginia isn't the least backwards state in the Union, and had the toothbrush been invented anywhere else it would have been called a teethbrush, but that doesn't mean they don't know where and how to build roads!

Please forgive the shaky camera work, but I still haven't found a firm mounting position that also gives me access to the start/stop button.

Looking at the map it seemed like my best bet would be to head northwest toward the PA border (making certain to steer well clear of the actual state of Pennsylvania) in order to grab a nice long southwesterly run through the hills to the state capitol of Charleston. Dropping in at John Brown's Harpers Ferry seemed fitting (Brown was an abolitionist who ran a successful raid of the armory in this town located at the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers),  I turned off the GPS and proceeded to see if I could get lost. I not only didn't, but I found more great roads than I could imagine. On one particularly challenging section of hilly forest I happened to glance in my mirrors to see the unmistakable dual grill of a BMW bearing down on me FAST from a quarter mile away. Nobody with the intimate knowledge of these roads necessary for the kind of speed being displayed could possibly also be in legal possession of a German sports car, so I moved the eff over and let him by before he got close enough to insist that I do so.

It took a few moments to regain my bearings after getting dusted by a metallic green mid '90's Pontiac. A little embarrassed to be overtaken by a rental car this was still welcome news. I'd just picked up a native guide! The posted speed limit in most of rural WV is 55mph (on roads that in most states would be getting 35mph postings and 15mph corner warnings), but this cat was running that speed as a minimum. If he was confident the turns could be taken at full speed I was confident I could stick with him and minimize my risk of an unplanned offroad excursion. So I spent the next 40 minutes experiencing the momentary terror my friend Jeffers misses so much from his days on two wheels.

Sadly, my experience with the metallic green Pontiacs of West Virginia was not all positive. Shortly after losing my guide to a turn I wasn't taking I met up with another daring local. This one thought it would be amusing to pull out from the left and park himself in my 60mph path at 20mph. My first impulse was to throw anchor, but a quarter mile of visibility afforded me a left side pass. Nonplussed by my demonstration of his inability to slow my progress the driver gave chase. I suspect he knew my former guide and thought that buying the same car would grant him equal prowess. Two corners later he was gone from my rear view and would have stayed there if it weren't for road construction.

This opportunity allowed him to park his front bumper on my rear tire while we crawled toward the flagman. Fine with me. As long as he stayed that close he couldn't get up the speed to cause any real injury. Finally reaching the front of the line revealed that his plan was to turn right at an adjoining road. He revved his engine and gunned by me, as close as possible, with all the acceleration his former rental could muster, losing control of the front end in the gravel strewn by the construction crew, failing to make the right and plowing straight into the guard rail on the opposite side. HAH! Oh...wait...he's REALLY pissed! And now if he hits me it won't damage his car any more than he just did! Just as I redirected my front wheel to the shoulder and a gap where RickyBobby couldn't reach me he opted to continue away.

The rest of the day was, thankfully, uneventful.

Downtown Charleston is actually kind of charming.
















I'd turned up just in time for a fairly extensive car show down by the river.

And was even treated to an entertaining performance by a local band.












A good night's sleep and tomorrow it's off to Kentucky!