Last week, my family and I visited family in NC. Before baby #3 was born, I longed to drive through eastern Kentucky on our way home from NC sometime, but it hadn't happened for one reason or another. I really didn't plan or expect for it to happen this time either as baby #3 is still so young and not terribly fond of the car, I figured we'd be better off to just get home as quickly and safely as possible.
Well, the common route, through West Virginia, has a few ever increasing tolls, my husband wanted to avoid them, so we took the secondary route (to NC) which involves driving down I75 to I40, then on over to the coast. Much to our surprise, we were forced to take a detour upon our travels down I40, due to some
rock slide which involved us going substantially out of our way. In any case, we arrived on the coast with little delay.
As we started the trek home I checked online to see the status of the rock slide (it seemed like they could just blow up these rocks and shovel 'em over the side or something, thats what they do with entire mountain tops, I couldn't fathom it being bigger than that.) and it seemed as though the though of it being cleared was a distant fantasy, so a long detour was still in the cards (that or tolls, which wasn't even an option at this point).
So we start heading on our detour, when my husband decides to make his own detour through all these small virginia towns. Finally, I proclaim that we should just go on through eastern Kentucky.
I made a deal with myself that there would be no camera involved. No pictures, not even with my phone. I was to take it in, with only my eyes and my mind this time. There will be a next time, I'll make sure of it, and next time, is when the camera comes out.
But this time. This time, I tried to drink it all in.
In some ways, I expected it to be worse. The folks in West Virginia said its much worse (eky) because theyll mine right up to the road side. Based on what i saw, this is partly true. The worst, was when we were on this curvy mountain road, that took us to the top of a hill. From that hill i could look in 3 directions (everywhere but behind) and see, quite clearly, an incredibly unnatural landscape, but there wasn't rubble pushed right up to the asphalt. Yet several miles later, on this same mountain road, we looked out at the most breathtaking landscape in all the world. Nothing but mountains, intact mountains. Clouds nestled in the valleys. It was as if nature made this little perch, on the side of this mountain, seemingly much larger than its surrounding siblings, solely for "us" to come to this point, and look out, and see just how glorious things can be, and are!
The West Virginians also commented on how much less hostile eastern Kentuckians are. Every time we'd have to stop for gas, or to use the rest room, my heart would race. Our hybrid import, slathered with activism stickers, manned by young environmentalists makes no attempts at being discreet in these situations, yet aside from a few cross looks, the worst we got was me overhearing a couple miners comment on how easy it is to say "that" when its not your pay check or what have you. (likely referring to the "topless mountains are obscene sticker") And while i didn't make any attempt to let them know, I can empathize with that. Alas, I married a marine, at my height of disent for the military. Sometimes we compromise a few values, for the sake of maintaining the highest value, feeding our family. There is often a thin line between a job, and a life style, but I can see that line, and i respect those that reside on the job side, even if i don't respect their job.
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