Somebody decided that it would be a good idea to build a via Ferrata in West Virginia.
Think back to your childhood, and you'll no doubt have many memories of participating in activities that you'd have serious reservations allowing your own children to do today. Take this collection of activities, all of which are probably attached to vivid memories, and remove those that would now be impossible because of liability issues. Next, remove the ones that are simply impossible because the only reason you were able to do them was your youth (ask me, Marc, or Max about our acrobatics aspirations). Lastly, drop those that are too are far too dangerous for your adult sensibilities. What remains?
These are the things that the active adult enjoys doing.
There may be a gray area, though, when it comes to what is sensible and what is not. Regardless, there is a continuum between the perfectly sane (think hiking in a well-marked park) and the questionable. The via Ferrata is questionable.
I'm afraid of heights. I wouldn't call my phobia diagnosable, but the fear that I have is significant enough to take my breath away when I find myself looking down. Yet, rational thought tells me that if I'm tied to a rock via a harness system that is strong enough to suspend my car, then I am not off the continuum. My fear tells me otherwise. The via Ferrata is a constant struggle for a person like myself.
Traveling through the Potomac Highlands of central WV, folks drive through Judy Gap with substantial regularity because it is at the crossroads of several important travel routes. I'd wager that less than a tenth of a percent of them are aware that they are within minutes of one the most spectacular grown-up jungle gyms ever created on a pair of quasi-parallel rock spines called Nelson Rocks. The spines are about 1000 feet high, with a separation that tapers from about 500 yards to 150 feet.The via Ferrata (Italian for Iron Way) starts with a series of extremely strong rungs bolted into the Nelson Rocks strata (think of a towel bar capable of suspending a small truck). The rungs form a route that goes up the outermost face of the first spine, through a notch to the inside of the first spine, up the inside of that spine, across a cable bridge 200 feet above the ground to the other spine, continues ascending the inside face of the second spine, through a second notch, and that then scales the back face of the second spine, ending where it meets the summit of a 3500+ foot mountain. Independent of the rungs, a cable is stretched along the route and fixed to the rock at 5 - 20 foot intervals. Strap on a climbing harness outfitted with two sections of rope that end with locking carabiners, clip into the cable system, and the mountain is yours to explore. If you dare.
The Fourth of July weekend 2006 was spent with my family at Margot and Mark's cabin (again?! Yes, again). On Sunday of the weekend, a crew composed of me, Kirsten, Matt, Donald, and Katie strapped on the aforementioned harness systems, bid Julie and the kids adieu, and walked into the woods toward the terminus of the via Ferrata, and promptly came to a wall. The way from there was up. Straight up.
It took several of us a good while to scrape together the nerve to step onto the via Ferrata. The first section is purely vertical, and the fear wears off after awhile, aside from the optional loop that is encountered after the second notch
following the bridge. Climbing the steel rungs was very simple, other than the sweaty palm problem that comes from being very scared on a hot Sunday in July. In only a few places was any sort of 'move' required, perhaps around a small tree that had a deathgrip on the rock or around a corner of rock that was insufficiently positioned for leaning. Leaning on the rock feels great when you are 500 feet above the ground.The optional loop is a different story. I don't know that I'd ever do this part again, though it comes to a climax at the very tip-top of the rock, which happens to be about 20 inches wide. Yes, that said "inches." What's more is that climbers ascend a vertical pitch to the top and must shimmy across the 20-inch wide rock with each foot dangling above a different 1000 foot drop for about ten feet in order to access the down-climb. If I could describe the terror, I would. So, I won't.
We all completed the via Ferrata, and all but one of us took on the optional loop. The trip took several hours, but when the struggle associated with extreme heights and the brink of sanity are thrown into the mix, you're looking at an exhausting day.
Check out the photos.
Git 'r Dun.
