Traversing the Channels

 Back in August I booked a hotel room in Abingdon, VA. I had planned a solitary hike, wanting to explore The Great Channels, a 20 acre, 400 million year old maze of sandstone slot canyons near the top of Middle Knob Mountain. It's a 6.6 mile in and out hike with over 1300ft elevation, and being over 4 hours from home, I knew I'd not be able to drive there and back and complete the hike in one day. And on my own I didn't want to. I was also a little nervous about losing my way on the hike, as I have sometimes done in the past, so I didn't want to rush it. Then Elliott came into my life and the dynamic changed completely; he wanted to join me. Wow! Instead of a solitary hike which I'd embark on with some trepidation and a long drive which would seem longer because I was alone, this suddenly turned into an exciting adventure because I now had a partner. And he insisted on doing the driving, rendering me completely speechless, not a condition many friends of mine have witnessed. And so now we planned together, setting off on Friday to get down there early to scout the trail head and have an early night.

I did suffer a catastrophe while on the hike, which I didn't discover until Monday morning, a photographer's nightmare. I had failed to put back my camera card in my Sony and the camera never flashed the warning message across my viewfinder telling me there was no card. I went through the whole hike, clicking away merrily, thinking I'd captured a wonderful collection of photos. I was sick to my stomach when I tried to download the photos on Monday morning and discovered there were none there. Thank God Elliott was with me taking spectacular shots. He generously offered to share for my blog so all the photos of The Great Channels are taken by him. The few others are from my iPhone.

We were up before dawn and on the road, arriving at the trail by 6:30am. There are only 10 parking spaces here and we were determined to snag one. We sat in the car, munching a breakfast of boiled eggs, bananas, cheese and nuts, and watched the first light peek above the mountain top. By the time we started the hike there were only 3 spaces left. We'd heard that any cars not in the allotted spaces received parking tickets or were towed, and on previous occasions there were as many as 70 vehicles waiting to park, although now a warden is present to enure only 2 cars wait in line. All others are turned away.

It was freezing cold as we started up the trail. Elliott was wrapped up in multiple layers, a hat and gloves, it looked like he'd planned for Mt. Everest. I had a t-shirt and a thin jacket but wasn't worried, we'd soon warm up.

We took our time climbing the mountain, stopping to enjoy the foliage and views, and to chat with others we met on our ascent. We spotted clumps of this beautiful blue flower, which I'd never seen before, and hoped would open its flowers once the morning warmed up. But they were still closed when we came back down and I later discovered that they are called Bottle Gentians, or Closed Gentians, because they never open. Pollinators simply squeeze their way in through the top, and the flowers will bloom until the first frost. Mountain laurel and a passageway of rhododendrons also lined the trail, in places creating a green tunnel.

The uphill climb wasn't hard at all, and the trail was mostly wide enough for two people to walk side by side. I'd warmed up and Elliott had even taken off his gloves. We reached the summit, elevation 4208ft, enjoying a fabulous view from the rocks of the flat topped Beartown Mountain and Great Appalachian Valley before we descended a short steep way into the slot canyons, and another world.

These deep crevices were formed over millions of years ago by water gushing over the 400 million year old sandstone rocks, creating tiny cracks which would then be eroded further by permafrost and ice to form high walled corridors between the huge blocks of rock. With their own ecosystem, the Channels are almost cave-like, with temperatures much lower than outside, and because of this and the lack of sunlight, snow can still be found inside them long after it has melted on the mountain top. It became a Natural Area Preserve in 2008 to protect the habitat, the trail having been forged by volunteers and the Appalachian Detention Center inmates. Previous access had been by the more rugged Channels Trail, an 11 mile round trip with a 2600ft climb.

The Channels are accessed by climbing down into them and my first reaction was astonishment. it was like descending into a dark cave, tall damp cold walls coated in green moss and lichens, like a natural cathedral, pathways ranging from 20 - 40ft deep crisscrossing and winding through the rock. It was a labyrinth of rock corridors so natural but somehow reminding me of a grid street system, as these passages were often perpendicular to each other. Many of the rock walls had a pitted surface, smooth round holes bored by water.

And now for Elliott's superb photos, all shown below are his, and I can't thank him enough. This blog entry would have been a waste of time if not for him, and the hike would certainly have left an empty feeling in my gut if I didn't have these memories. And there's plenty of 'me' shots too, he really is a superstar!

It was easy walking around, only a few boulders needed to be scrambled over but for the most part it was like walking around a maze. I did make a conscious effort to remember my route after reading some reviews of others getting lost, but it wasn't really necessary. I always ended up at a corner I recognized or a familiar rock face. I was just awestruck with this ancient geological wonder.

We sat on a rock to snack on our lunch, more nuts, cheese and jerky. And sitting here was cold, I estimated the temperature to be in the low 40's. The Channels were mainly shady, yet spotlights of white sunlight beamed down into the passageways, so direct and bright that I was tempted to stand under a few and call out, "Beam me up Scotty!" 

 

We spent well over an hour down there, exploring and taking photos, although of course I wasn't, but didn't know it. We meandered through the hallways and I persuaded Elliott to follow me down a narrower corridor. He exclaimed it wasn't possible, he couldn't fit, but I assured him he could and so he gamely forged forward. I was bent over double, laughing so hard, as he puffed and shoved, rocking from side to side as he battled his way to me. It was hilarious especially when he finally popped out, a victorious grin lighting up his face. He said I should have videoed it but I don't think I would have been able to hold my phone steady, I was howling so hard.

We finally climbed our way out and headed back to the trail, glad to feel the warmth of the sun on our faces and backs once more. The hike back down wasn't too arduous, but it was grand to sit in a restaurant later and chow down on an exceptional Cajun pasta dish washed down with a couple of pints of a local stout before the long drive home to the Blue House.

Choking the Color at Carrie

Elliott's friend, Marty, brought his grandson, Riley, along to join us at Carrie Furnace in PA on Sunday. I hadn't been here for five years and was a little doubtful about how much of the site would now be accessible. Due to the machinery's decline and neglect there was bound to be a lot more disintegration and decay, meaning more areas would be off limits. But regardless, I would be spending the day with the main man, and that alone would make me ecstatically happy. I decided that my photos on this visit would be black and white, certainly not because that would reflect my mood, which if it did, would mean all my photos would instead have lots of little glittering gold and silver sparkles popping out, unicorns prancing among the ruins and rainbows shooting above the tall furnace chimneys. I was going to process in black and white simply because I never do it. I always choose color, and then often play with those hues and tints, but this time I'd push myself to be more sombre and dramatic. Unfortunately I had little time to spend on processing, so may one day come back to these images and reprocess them, (yeah, right!). But my Number One Blog Fan, Myra, insists on my posts being somewhat timely, and I must oblige. So these were quickly run through while at work, one minute using an adjustment brush to pull out a detail in the shadows of a photo, and the next, drawing a poker tournament design on a t-shirt proof. I'm good at multitasking.

Everyone was masked up as we arrived, and everyone kept their masks on while in close proximity to others, although we had plenty of opportunities to take breathers and pull them off since the place was so vast with not so many people walking about. It was a cloudy overcast day, the sun failing to make an appearance despite constant attempts to shine through the clouds. But we were pleased, a day without heat and extreme shadows or blinding rays of sun made it the perfect setting for me to produce my black and white images. Elliott marched right in front of me as I was framing a shot, to get up close to the furnace stacks and even closer to a guy setting up his camera on a tripod. I was going to wait until he moved out of the way but then thought it would make an excellent photo just as it was. And it did.

Carrie Furnace was shut down in 1978 and in 2006 the two remaining furnaces became a National Historical Landmark. It had produced over a thousand tonnes of iron per day at its peak and had obviously also produced a lot of pollution, contaminating the surrounding area. Clean up began in the 1990's and continues today. Eventually the land will be used for residential and commercial purposes along with some light industry. A museum will also be built containing the 2 furnaces still standing. Rivers of Steel are intent on the preservation of the the steel industry heritage, saving the structures where they can, as well as relics and historical memories. They provide tours of Carrie, and other saved landmarks, as well as encouraging workshops and art installations.

Because I was planning on monochromatic photos I focused more on textures, shapes and lines. We all kept relatively close together, Elliott spending a lot of his time talking to Riley, explaining camera procedures and photo compositions. Marty and I chipped in at times but Elliott was like a full on instructor, he was awesome. And Riley appeared to be lapping up all the tuition. Considering he is only 14 years old, he was great company and acted as if we much older pals were his peers. I was impressed with his maturity. Unfortunately I didn't get any photos of him, or Marty, and regret that, but they're coming with us to photograph some vintage trucks in the near future, so I plan on capturing a more human perspective in my photos on that trip.

Marty showed us a photo he'd taken, looking through a hole in the fence at the furnace base. I used a different hole and had a go. The base of the furnace looked like a huge imposing space ship. I almost expected it to begin humming in low tones, with a hatch opening out, and a spindly, gangling alien figure reaching towards us.

This old piano part caught our eye and I decided to climb up onto the rusted rotors to get a better shot. These materials are used in the workshop that River of Steel holds, where people can come in and cast art objects. I'd love to have a go at that but it's too far to come. So I was perched up on top of the rotors, admittedly a little wobbly, when a member of staff came over, and a little gruffly, asked me to get down. Which I did. And then I started chatting with him, asking questions, and generally getting on famously, my little misdemeanor almost forgotten. But Elliott and Marty ribbed me afterwards for 'ass kissing' on a huge scale, causing both of them to walk away in mock disgust and we laughed. But I'd made a friend, and later when he approached us to remind us that our time was nearly up, he came to me and spoke so kindly it was as if we'd known each other for years, rather than less than an hour. So yup, I'll 'ass kiss' every time, if it gets me what I want. There's been a few close arrest scenarios in the past when I've been urbexing, and I've done the same thing, and got myself and friends off the hook.

We finished up near the railroad area where the raw materials and fuel had once been delivered. The locker rooms had disintegrated further since my last visit, capsizing on themselves, but the old steam engine stood solidly and defiantly, resisting the attacks of decay. For some reason Marty and Elliott decided that a rusty old lamp above the locker room was a fascinating and captivating subject to focus their huge cameras and lenses on. Not me, I was more interested in photographing them, hastily snapping a shot while resisting the urge to laugh out loud.

Marty took this photo of an old iron girder that resembled a face, a dragon face in my opinion. Elliott had told Marty about pareidolia, seeing faces in inanimate objects. I'd been aware of this, as are most people, but never knew that it had an actual name. Marty was actively searching for these faces as he walked around, so I'm hoping he'll share his images with us later.

My only color photo of the day was this tiny outcrop of plants, perched up on the side of the furnace building, surrounded by rusty, dark metal and wood, a burst of vibrant color held within a 'shadow box', so vivid it was as though they were proclaiming, "We're alive!" while surrounded by drab decay.

It had been a great afternoon with wonderful people, the time racing past so fast that I felt I'd only been there for an hour, not three. Yet I was a little disappointed that yet more areas were no longer accessible since my last trip. We were really limited to how close we could get to the furnaces and the chimney areas. No longer could we walk around and between them, and I get it. It's got to be extremely difficult to keep huge rusting machinery safe enough for the general public to roam around, and so I'm grateful for my past trips where we'd had a lot more freedom. I likely won't return to Carrie, especially as it's going to become more of a tourist spot and museum. It's great that the area is being preserved, but it's no longer this urbexing girl's ideal photo safari. So farewell old friend, stand strong and resilient, and keep those tourists pouring in, reminding them of the steel industry that once reigned in these parts.