Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Cheating the System


April, 2014. Cheat River Canyon, West Virginia. 

This datum and locale will appear as the opening lines of a victory statement for Appalachians on the front lines in the struggle for environmental conservation. This marks the day that the good guys won the decades-long battle for the Cheat. 

The significance of this victory is not to be understated. Ripe on the heels of the chemical spill disaster in Charleston and a gut-wrenching photo expose on mountaintop removal, West Virginians were in dire need of some positive news. And they received it this month when The Nature Conservancy and The Conservation Fund announced the official protection and designation of the Cheat River Canyon as a state Wildlife Management Area. 

Through an agreement between those conservation agencies, the West Virginia Division of Natural Resources (DNR), and previous-owner Forestland Group, a  3,800 acre parcel including the seven-mile stretch of whitewater known to aficionados as "The Canyon" is now protected. This designation will conserve the spectacular scenic qualities and recreation opportunities of the Cheat while improving public access to its steep and forested hillsides.

The Cheat River Canyon is home to bald eagles, bobcats and otters. It represents a biodiversity hotspot for the region's flora. The Canyon also serves as sanctuary for the endangered Indiana bat and the threatened flat-spired three-toothed snail - an endemic species that exists nowhere else on Earth. The river is host to native trout species, and through the efforts of environmental advocacy groups, is improving in its ability to host aquatic life. 

Read the official release from The Nature Conservancy here. 


The area outlined in red represents the now-protected 3,800 acre parcel containing seven miles of the Cheat River Canyon. Source: Friends of the Cheat (FOC) Facebook page.

The outlook for recreation is exciting: paddling, hiking, biking, fishing, hunting, and possibly some climbing (when those highly-coveted boulder stashes are discovered) all are in abundance here. According to the Nature Conservancy, "the project also provides the opportunity to reopen a section of the 330-mile Allegheny Trail that had to be re-routed after it was closed by a previous owner."

From The Nature Conservancy's release:
"After the New and Gauley rivers, the Cheat is the most important stretch of whitewater in West Virginia," said [Rodney] Bartgis. "It's one of the great beloved landscapes in West Virginia and has tremendous beauty, significant plant and animal diversity, and abundant recreation potential."

Dylan (front right) and climbing pal Eric Fizer (front left) running the Coliseum Rapid in May, 2012. Photo purchased with use permission from White Water Adventures. 

People are talking. Facebook is abuzz with links directing folks to the good news, and the energy is palpable. It will all culminate in May at the 20th-Annual Cheat River Festival, a whitewater and Appalachian celebration sponsored by Friends of the Cheat (FOC). Like many other "friends of" organizations, FOC is an advocate of the river. While the Cheat's deafening rapids muffle the audible whoops of paddlers and the thrashing green water moves boulders the size of buses, the river cannot speak for itself or resist the encroachment of those looking to seize its treasures. This is where the admirable folks at FOC come in, working tirelessly to mitigate the acid mine drainage that stains boulders orange and make sure the water we love to play in can support aquatic life. Several of my friends work there, and their efforts are laudable considering the state of the river decades ago. Cheat Fest also serves as the major annual fundraiser for the organization, and I encourage all locals to attend - you will not be disappointed.

Others have shared in the joy surrounding this momentous occasion. A local climbing friend and GIS coordinator for Monongalia County stated, "it's the best environmental news on a positive note that I've heard in this state in years."

Another friend and colleague who coordinates West Virginia First, an initiative of the West Virginia Community Development Hub that promotes and connects local businesses, had informed me of her plans to move earlier in the month. The Cheat Canyon news has inspired her to remain in West Virginia. She said, "I've decided not to move, and it's hopefully for the good. It's because of all this potential energy building right now. I want to be part of tipping the ball over the edge."

Potential energy. Angular momentum. Environmental vindication. It's happening, here and now. I'll be the first to admit that I've wavered in my commitment to West Virginia over the years, most recently in my graduate studies at West Virginia University. Environmental policy can, at times, lead one down the dark and dusty rabbit hole of ecological turmoil. Constant news of chemical spills, mountaintop removal, and health defects resulting from these burdens can weigh heavily on one's soul.

Consider it a morale boost for those engaged in the nitty gritty details of conservation. Administrative paper work and red tape can curb the passion and energy of those once devoted to an organization's mission. I, for one, am excited and have a renewed sense of belonging in my personal mission to give back to the ancient mountains that have silently gifted so much to my growth. If a rolling stone gathers no moss, consider the boulders clean. The walls of industry are beginning to crumble.

While companies like Alpha Natural Resources look to level our mountains, we as collective forces have leveled the playing field by ensuring that some natural wonders will remain for our children and for future generations. After all, the ebb and flow of the ancient rivers that have carved these treasured gorges is reflected in the tug-of-war match between conservationists and extractionists. The stakes are high, and the battle will likely continue for decades. Give them an inch, they'll take a mountain. Give us an inch, we'll take seven miles. We must use this victory to rally the troops and pull harder. But for today, we celebrate. Today, we have pulled the dark side 3,800 acres closer to the slurry pit that separates us.


Tuesday, April 8, 2014

West Virginia's Twelfth Man

A lot has been written lately regarding ESPN's portrayal of West Virginia in its recent film, Requiem for the Big East, part of its critically-acclaimed 30 for 30 Series. The film depicts the "meteoric" rise and fall of the Big East basketball conference, a now-defunct conglomeration of Eastern collegiate superpowers and big-name superstars. West Virginia University (WVU) played a critical role in the success of the Big East, especially in its final years, winning its first Big East Conference title in 2010 and making the line "The Butler did it!" a household classic.

In the film, West Virginia is mostly ignored while other institutions are romanticized and praised for their athletics and overall prowess. When WVU receives its limelight, a sour taste is left in the mouths of those who live, love, and took an oath as life-long Mountaineers in the Mountain State.

Not only does executive producer Ezra Edelman use West Virginia to illustrate the racism that Patrick Ewing received while playing his collegiate years at Georgetown University, the all-too-familiar opening licks of "Dueling Banjos" echo through viewers' living rooms as overall-clad hillbillies play the Appalachian staple instrument on the rickety front porch of a dilapidated mountain dwelling.

The racism Ewing experienced was not specific to West Virginia, nor is the poverty that continues to plague this multi-state region (including the likes of Kentucky-based University of Louisville, which received no negative criticism or stereotypical Appalachian depiction in the film).

Fellow WVU student Christopher Nyden drafted an emotional and well-written response to the film in the WVU student newspaper, The Daily Athenaeum. I encourage you to read his letter to gain a full understanding of the film's disappointing WVU depiction, and to share in his sentiment.

Enough about that - criticism and unfair portrayal of West Virginia in the national media is nothing new, in fact it's something I've come to expect as a native son of this rural and oft-forgotten state. I'd need a few extra hands to count the number of individuals I met out West who didn't realize West Virginia is, in fact, its own sovereign state. "Oh, western Virginia, I have a cousin in Richmond!" is a classic line that our residents use as satire to illustrate Westerners' lack of geographical knowledge.

West Virginians place their collegiate sports teams on a pedestal as proverbially gilded as the Capital's golden dome in Charleston. After all, a forested state bisected by a few interstate highways will never play host to a professional team. And their legacies are epic - in a state with a population of only 1.8 million, WVU athletics have accomplished some amazing things. The story of the 1970 plane crash that took the lives of the entire  Marshall University football team is immortalized in the film "We Are Marshall." Knowledgeable fans of collegiate athletics can't deny the Mountain State's place in glorified sports lore.

I could write yet another heartfelt response begging ESPN for an apology that it won't issue, but that won't accomplish anything. And while Nyden's letter is well-deserving of the publication - and publicity - that it received, his call for apology has been made many times in the past. I believe these requests fall short in their (perhaps unintentional) desire that West Virginia's Appalachian heritage be not portrayed at all.

I'd like to suggest something different for ESPN: a focus on West Virginia's Twelfth Man. And by that, I mean those who play in its great outdoors. World-class rock climbing and bone-crushing whitewater accompany some of the best skiing and mountain biking in the East. And with those adrenaline-fueled mountain sports come some of the world's strongest athletes - physically and mentally.

Alongside highlight reel Mountaineer touchdowns, ESPN should show Fayetteville climber Pat Goodman putting up some of the world's hardest traditional climbing routes at the New River Gorge. Buzzer-beating buckets should be paired with footage of the carnage that occurs when the annual Summersville Dam release makes the Upper Gauley River some of the gnarliest white water on the entire planet. Bundled with these clips should be West Virginia's residents shredding vertical lines in the summer and winter at the 24 Hours of Snowshoe mountain bike and ski events.

And while we're at it, let's boast these amazing adventure sports with a soundtrack of beautiful Appalachian music from the likes of West Virginia native Tim O'Brien plucking alongside mandolin wizard Chris Thile. 
Let's show these technical masters of mountain music playing on the nationally-broadcast favorite Mountain Stage. If bluegrass ain't your thing, choose from the diverse list of well-known West Viriginia musicians. Or if you need some grime to pump up your footage, play world-famous producer Pretty Lights' remix of the state anthem that he dropped at the 2011 All Good Music Festival in Preston County.

After all, we've got a lot to be proud of. Unfortunately, national media outlets don't see it that way. And as they continue to cover the bad and stereotype the good, Mountaineers will move forward. While touchdowns are scored and foul shots are made, limits will be pushed on rock and in water. While tailgates rage and traffic accrues, powder will spray and solace will be found on Wilderness trails. That's how West Virginia's real Twelfth Man participates. Because at the end of the day, the best escape from the dark shadows of national discourse can always be found in those ancient Appalachian mountains.