After our special dinner in a centuries old grain warehouse overlooking the Monongahela, Molly and I headed for
Nelson Rocks for an experience unlike any other. We met our friend, Kent, and his son, Zachary, for a vertical traverse of the via Ferrata -- a network of steel rungs, cables, and 100 foot long wood and cable bridge spanning 200 feet over a canyon -- to spots hundreds of feet above the forest.The via starts difficult and crescendos to asinine by the time climbers get to the swinging bridge. We were graced with warm temperatures in the high 60's, but gale force winds made our experience gripping. Looking down at the small small planks of wood
suspending your body on the cable bridge, all one has to do to look down at the forest below is to focus between the planks. "Don't look down" takes on a very different tone when it must be rephrased to "don't focus on the ground." Yeah right!With each reach, stability is questioned as you climb the via Ferrata. What might normally be a perfectly stable position on a 12-inch wide step becomes precarious when the drop beneath the step would be a deadly fall. Yet, as more and more of the via was behind me, the cumulative experience left me more comfortable and trusting in the harness system anchoring me to the rock. However, when our guide pointed to the optional "bonus" loop that scaled a vertical and overhanging spire of rock that is 6 feet wide at the top with 500 foot drops on either side, comfort was diminished. Kent took the
bait and started up. Molly was next, but only because I was right on her heels.As the wall became an overhanging precipice, Molly spidered her way up. I did not. In fact, I am not even ashamed to say that it was never my intention to collect my "bonus." Rather, Molly continued under the presumption that I was right behind, got to the summit of the knife-edge of rock, belly crawled 10 feet across to the down-climb while the wind attempted to pluck her and Kent to the mercy of their harnesses, and slowly spidered her way back down to relatively safety. I got a couple jabs to the shoulder and she admitted that she was glad to have done it. It was a classic move, but I've been up on that "bonus" summit before and vividly remember saying I'd never do it again. That I could never do any real rock climbing is reinforced again and again.
The trip came to a solemn, pivotal crux when our guide, Brian, explained the dangers of releasing the safety harness from the via's security with his first-hand experience. It was less than two years ago when his then girlfriend fell to her death from the via. The story from the September 25, 2006 Pittsburgh Post-Gazette details Nelson Rocks' only fatality. Listening to Brian explain how the fall happened was ample reinforcement to never release both lanyards from the via Ferrata.
With visions of death, we ended our upward adventure by returning to solid ground where gravity isn't so lethal. We joined some of our paddling friends for dinner and then our group returned to the cabin at Dolly Sods to get our boating gear ready for Sunday's downward adventure.
Sunday morning, we woke to snow flurries. However, this group is braver than most. The thought of a day on whitewater in these conditions only inserted a small taste of hesitation among the group, but after a few layers of neoprene (er . . a few dozen layers), we were ready to go. We joined the Three Rivers Paddling Club Jim Blackham Memorial Trip by meeting them at the put in for one of West Virginia's most scenic runs, the North Fork of the South Branch of the Potomac's beautiful Hopeville Canyon. It was my first time in a Shredder -- a 2-man rubber catamaran raft -- and Molly's first time in the canyon. The gear worked and we both emerged at the bottom of the canyon dry, warm, and smiling.Here are some more photos from Nelson Rocks, and here are some more from Hopeville Canyon.
Git r Dun
