Seasons at Demeter: Hatfield-McCoy
“I’m not going back. I’m not riding that thing again.” My grandson, Emmett’s, angst is understandable. Its been raining all morning – two inches so far. We’re soaked to the skin and cold. We’re sitting on the back porch of the Corner Shop in Bramwell, WV. waiting for food. We’d go inside but the AC is on and its warmer outside. We’ll let Emmett get some chicken tenders on board before we give him the bad news. We’re 15 miles from our car. He doesn’t have a choice.
Joneen turned 70 this year and opted for a family adventure as opposed to a party. Our ATV rentals for the Hatfield McCoy (HM) Trail were booked months ago. It isn’t raining when we pick up the machines, but the downpour starts soon after. We checked the forecast but didn’t expect THIS! We’re newbies to the trail, which is made up of 13 sections and nearly 1200 miles of trails on one million acres in Southern WV. It attracts nearly 100,000 riders per year – a treasure right in our back yard.
Our rain gear keeps us dry for a while and its fun spinning around in the mud. Joneen allows that the mud is infinitely better than dust. We’ve been warned to keep to the green and blue(easy) trails. Still, some sections present all the challenges we need. Its not for the faint of heart. The map provided by the livery is paper, is soon soaked and leaves lots to the imagination. Millie does a masterful job navigating and finds the eight-foot-tall alien hiding along the trail.
All rain gear has its limits and by late morning it’s a bona fide deluge. We’re all shivering and need to get to shelter for a spell. Luckily local communities allow ATV traffic and we’re able to find a place to get out of the rain and get food although getting dry isn’t in the cards. The food arrives and the boys (Miles and Emmett) feel warmer after eating. “Guys, when you’re grown, your can tell your kids this was our first ‘Eklutna’ experience together. Your Dad and Aunt Millie have had several.”
Millie, Max and I have had lots of outdoor experiences that didn’t go as planned – Max getting hypothermic on Holston Mountain; a terrible thunderstorm on New River endured without shelter; Max washed a mile downstream in rapids on the same river (another day); Millie’s dislocated shoulder on a Boundary Waters canoe trip; father and daughter trapped on the far shore of a remote lake by high wind, unable to launch and get back to camp; a snorkeling trip with Captain Jim that could have easily gone south and, of course, Lake Eklutna.
Eklutna is an eight-mile-long glacial lake in Alaska. We booked a kayak (out) and bike (back) excursion there on the last day of our trip. It was raining just like this. Joneen stayed in the car; Millie and I were not to be deterred. Yes, we got soaked and cold but pedaling the bikes warmed us until a flooded trail caused me to take a header into the lake. Then my bike broke and we pushed them the last four miles. “Eklutna” is family code for an outdoor adventure that makes for a great story but shouldn’t be voluntarily repeated.
Why, you ask, would I subject my grandkids to something like this? I’d show you a family sitting around a table together. Its raining but no one is complaining or in a bad mood. There’s nary a screen in sight. We’re soaked and cold but laughing and joking, eating burgers and telling stories about past adventures. I’ve never been shy about saying that kids need time outdoors. The corollary is that not all those experiences are going to be perfect. There are times you’re going to be uncomfortable, even miserable. Paradoxically, some of those (in retrospect, of course) are the best times – at least for me. We made it through hardships, and we feel stronger, more confident and closer because of them. Those are the times I absolutely cherish. We did this together and we came out the other side just fine. You can’t tell kids these things, you have to show them.
You might suspect I’m making this up. I’m not. As we finish lunch, the rain stops, the sun comes out and it warms up ten degrees. Absent another option, Emmett allows he’ll give it a go. The ride back is a blast; mud and mudholes; spinning out on the berms. The misery of the morning is but a memory. We return the ATVs and spray them off before the rain returns. Hot showers are waiting at the cabin.
We’ve got a river trip planned later in the summer. I want to give the boys the experience while I can still paddle and navigate the ledges. They’re excited despite the HM experience. I hope the weather is perfect, the fishing is hot and things go off without a hitch. If that indeed occurs, I wonder, ten years from now. which story about this summer they’ll prefer to tell?
