West Virginia, mountain mama

Back in March we drove to Detroit (can I get a Go Heels?) and wound around the West Virginia mountains, through two tunnels and Charleston, along the rivers for awhile. It was cold, and snowed off and on, which frankly made the whole scene that much more alluring. Like most states with a reputation, I imagine there are a great many tax dollars at work to make that stretch, anyway, attractive and non-hillbilly, to play against the type with which the whole state is saddled. I'm a sucker for a good bridge, and cities and towns along rivers. I like to imagine earlier times when coal was king, when the towns bloomed on the water in the shadow of industry.

Montgomery

Richwood

South Charleston

On a whim, I went there this weekend to revisit that curiosity. I stayed in the Marriott in downtown Charleston, which was strangely cheaper than Holiday Inn Express, even. I'm a real dork when it comes to how much I love hotels. I still remember the first hotel I ever stayed in: the Handlery in Union Square in San Francisco. I was 13 and I had an acid-washed purse and pink jeans that I wore proudly, heaven help me. It's an old hotel, and was being remodeled. The whole family was there, which means a lot of little kids, but the only reason we stayed there was that our friends the Leisters were there for business and we were together. I'm sure it was nothing short of a nightmare to haul 5 kids and their junk through a lobby under construction, to pay for parking in the deck, and endure the eccentricities (Donnie's worst nightmares) of a small, old, downtown hotel in 1989. But I didn't care, because I felt so urban and cool, sitting in the wide windowsill listening to the jazz coming from the club across the street until late at night, and the ever-present honking. I loved it. Had it been just our family, we would have stayed in some 2-star Best Western in Alameda for sure, as we always did. We have stayed in some seriously terrible motels on family trips, which is understandable; we required two rooms minimum and we were definitely on a budget. I'm clearly trying to make up for feeling deprived of hotels.

Cynical in tone and apostrophe abuse

There's an element of this hobby that is quite self-indulgent, I think. I really like the freedom of being alone and choosing the schedule based on light and where the road takes me. My goal is to approach these places with an appropriate balance of voyeurism and appreciation for the "other," but even that is potentially problematic, because I never want to be judgmental or superior (unless there's bad grammar; then all bets are off). And there's a risk that by looking at people and businesses and towns from this perspective -- the search for aesthetic -- I can oversimplify their lives and experience. Ideally, the search for beautiful and interesting things -- and translating them into the correct aperture, shutter speed, and composition -- is inspired by a purely artistic instinct and an attempt to present something in a new way, not that I feel entirely up to the pressure of creating pure art. I haven't yet worked out to what extent I feel okay about my invasion of their space with the proper balance of all these goals. I sense that if I did this in California, for example, I would feel more or less evened out, but beyond that I start to question my permission to be there.

I do think there is a safe zone, though, and that is nature. Really talented photographers with serious equipment and an intense obsession with light can make nature photography, and by extension the subject, new and appealing to even serious bums. I had a lovely drive to the southwestern edge of the Monongahela National Forest, which is just levels of the green transcendent beauty that is the entire state. I started a hike to the Cranberry River but since there wasn't a soul around and my survival skills are nil, I decided the 10 miles to the river might not be the smartest choice. Nonetheless, the 45 minutes I spent in the forest were very good in the way that 69 degrees, fresh air, and copious ferns always are.

More photos (+coal) on Flickr.