LPH

Many people have asked about my physical therapy experience in SW Virginia. It has been so many that I have a scripted response: I feel that I learned a lot professionally and culturally, but was not really challenged in terms of my physical therapy skills. I practiced the skills I learned over two years of PT school, but did not really have discussions around clinical reasoning or evidenced-based practice. Both of these are pretty important to becoming a master clinician. All that being said, I still appreciate my experience there. I witnessed with my own eyes the low priority of exercise in that rural community, the need for education, and I was exposed to many low level and highly involved patients.
Plus the staff at Lonesome Pine are truly really great people. Each of them has their own character but they all work well together and are a part of each others lives, as expected in a smaller community. I am very happy to have been a part of that for just two short months.

LPH - a 60 bed hospital. 6 ICU beds. 6!!!!!!!!

some time in coal country

during the first few weeks in Big Stone, i frequently noticed men dressed in dark jumpsuits with orange or yellow bands around each extremity. i thought, man there are a lot of firefighters around here. but the dark soot on their faces enlightened me. of course, these were coal miners. an industry that to me seemed antiquated and almost not real. even after 8 weeks being in coal country, i still don't know a lot. but i'm going to share some thoughts anyway.

my awareness of the presence of the coal industry...well...it was slow. in addition to the faux firefighters, there were several odd chutes that would cross over a road or highway. one was surrounded by a royal blue cylinder that had such a low clearance, i didn't think a semi could pass. one reason for my apparent blindness was that Big Stone had no coal. their mountains were rich in their beauty rather than rich in fossil fuel. but many residents worked or had family that worked in the near by mines. a patient recommended that i read a novel called Big Stone Gap, the first of a trilogy of books, set in the small town. the focus of the book was not coal, however the author did describe a little bit of what a mine would look like. a mine can penetrate a mountain as far as 5 miles with some areas only being big enough to crawl on your belly. as the tunneling grows, the roof has to be reinforced to prevent cave ins. one day i had a patient who's occupation was "roof bolter." i don't know anything about roofing, but i remembered about the mines. his job was to place the bolt after a machine had drilled a hole in the roof. being the deepest in the mine possible and operating a machine that drills...its obvious why this is considered the most dangerous job in mining. aside from morbid threats, miners also face knee pain, back and neck pain and the obvious black lung.

i learned to open my eyes and ears to learn more about mining culture. as my mother and i drove into Kentucky over Black Mountain, we could look back and see a mountain face, destroyed by strip mining. a chunk from the side, just gone. farther into Kentucky, you could see how little towns were there only for the coal industry. it seemed that every other car had that image of a coal miner on his belly window sticker, "i've got friends in low places." but at the same time, ive been told that the industry struggles, as cleaner, more environmentally friendly sources of fuel are becoming more popular.

barns

life in southwest virginia would not be complete without its barns, old and new. here are my favorites.

this old barn is on Powell Valley Road, another favorite drive that connects Big Stone to Norton with minimal use of the four lane. i also used it a couple times as a jogging route, the beautiful scenery attempting to distract from the hellish hills that stretched on for miles.

this barn, we passed on a daily basis to drive from the four lane to east stone gap and then on home. and i just liked it. when the purple rav 4 was not parked out in front.

carl

for at least the first four weeks of our stay, we had a bunny that would frequent our backyard. we noticed him one afternoon, and then every afternoon, munching on dandelions. because we figured it was the same bunny, we deemed him our pet and named him Carl. after midterm, the heat and humidity picked up and we didn't seem him as much, and then not at all. maybe he went to summer in the Hamptons or sought higher elevations more suited to a bunny.

other little day trips

Natural Tunnel State Park features a tunnel naturally formed over millions of years and big enough to house a railroad. Its just a quick, steep hike down to the bottom or you can opt for the ski lift ride. We also enjoyed the olympic-sized pool in the park.


The Virginia Creeper Trail is a popular activity near Mount Rogers. It is a path built along an old, never completed railway that extends from Whitetop Mountain near the border of North Carolina all the way to Abingdon, VA. We rented bikes and took a shuttle from Damascus up to Whitetop to ride the 18 miles back...but thankfully downhill.

Little Stony Falls is a group of waterfalls near Coeburn, VA, just a short drive from Big Stone. You could also hike 16 miles from High Knob past Bark Camp Lake to get a view of these falls. From reading, it seemed like a great path to hike for a day, camp and then finish off the next day. This is one thing I never got around to doing, because of time, but also due to reports of many downed trees left from the winter's snow. The same day that we visited the falls, we had come from Cave Springs Recreational Area (of which I do not have any photos), which along the hike has a cave where the temperature drops 20 degrees. Unfortunately, this hike was also cut short by downed trees.

cracker's neck

you might have figured out that i have already left beautiful SW Virginia. but i have a few other stories to tell and places to write about, so i will be playing catch-up. this first entry is about one of the first places we went to go for a run and ended up being my favorite place in the entire area. how could you not love a place called cracker's neck? it was a short distance down east stone gap road and it was one of the few areas that was flat. a large expanse of valley, filled with homes, trailers, farms, and overall beauty. when we first drove out there on our second day in big stone, we parked next two a couple boarded up buildings which i found out used to be an old country store. we ran past many small churches, one road that looked like suburbia and a lot of fields filled with wild flowers.in the mornings before work, i would run from the trailer to crackers neck, get as far as time would allow, and turn around to come back. one friday morning, i had run to my turn-around point and began to trot back when i noticed a dog at my feet. dogs chased me all the time especially in crackers neck, but most of them ran the expanse of their property and gave up. or if i sped up, they would stop and stare as if saying, whew no way! this young dog would not give up, and ran with me all the way to the point where i turn onto a larger road. i figured it would stop then, but no. it continued to try and follow me. i tried yelling at it, running a bit back in the opposite direction, but nothing deterred it. time was starting to be against me and my need to get ready for work. so i just kept running. it continued. as i approached the cemetery before east stone gap, i realized i was going to have to keep this dog following, so i could drive it back home on my way to work. it ran with me for 25 minutes until we arrived at the trailer. after a quick shower, i loaded it in my car and drove it back to the spot in cracker's neck where it had joined me. it was an adorable dog, all white, with black over the eyes and ears. but i had to let it go and drive away. i saw him again one morning, but hid, not wanting to risk another follow and return.

the LAST day of the last weekend

we drove away from the new river gorge a few hours later than we were expecting. we had called ahead to the Breaks Interstate Park to make sure that we could still land a campsite even after the office had closed. we had at least a three-hour drive ahead of us plus time to stop to eat. we finally turned off the main highway to head through Grundy and over to the Breaks. it was about 9:30, definitely dark. as we approached Grundy, the mountains narrowed and the mists rose. now, we were quite tired and a little loopy, but the drive through Grundy was surreal. i could tell this town was heavily influenced by the coal industry as we passed under many coal shoots crossing the road. it was so dark and misty that we could not see the mountains above us, but i wondered if they were still complete, or if large chunks had been cut out of them. as we continued the windy, ethereal drive, all of a sudden, a giant industrial tower with a wildly blazing fire emerged on the right. it looked like hell. i found out later it was a coke plant. we continued the drive through windy back roads, small enough to not require a yellow stripe down the center. we finally made it to the Breaks at about 10:30. and of course it was closer to 11 until we had finally chosen a campsite being as we are both type B. but our expertise arose as we set up the tent in record time with light from the car and one headlamp.
the next morning, we made breakfast, broke down and packed up, so that we could venture onto a hike. when i had been to the Breaks with my mom, i noticed that all the trails were one mile or less. that's boring. then i realized they were all connected and i found a loop that would take us down the canyon to the river and back up to check out all the overlooks. we went to the visitor's center just to make sure the trails connected and were open. "yes, they are but just be careful on the river trail...there is poison ivy." awesome. we remained optimistic as it was overcast and cool and the initial trail was relatively easy. we passed one overlook that i had been to with my mom and then headed down the Prospector's trail. we passed many impressive rock faces and Brittany had to wipe the drool from her mouth. we noticed that the trail was quite damp from a few days rain, but we kept on. when we hit the River trail, things got dicey. it was supér steep, and the path sat at an angle, so you felt like your outside foot could turn or slide down with every step. one wrong step would send you down a steep hill, probably not stopping until the river's edge. i took it really slow, but lost my footing every five steps. the other challenge of this hike was the spider webs. every few feet we could feel the thin and sticky strands hit us. i'd stop every so often trying to pull them off, not because i was worried about spiders, but because the sensation was like i was covered in the wispy hairs of a ghosts following me down the trail. at one point, Brittany walked right into a huge web with its spider in residence. i could hear the crackle as the sticky strands broke and stuck to her hair and face. i then saw the large brown spider quickly crawling up the remnants toward her face. i slapped it down to the ground and Brittany looked distressed, her blonde hair looking white and shiny on the ends. and then, the sun came out, and it got HOT. so we were dirty from the slick trail, covered in spider webs and now dripping in sweat on one of the most technical hikes of my life.
after over an hour, we finally saw a short path taking us to the river's edge. the narrow path opened up to flat rocks in the sun and a beautiful site of the river and canyon. it was the perfect spot to rest and eat lunch and do some swimming. unfortunately i had blanked on bringing our swim suits with us. i really wanted to get in and cool off. knowing that wet shorts for a couple hours would highly increase the risk for chub rub, i stripped down and hopped in. i knew from the amount of spider webs on the trail that we were the only ones around for a while and it was nice to cool off. i dared Brittany and she followed suit. well, sans suit. after our lunch and swim, it was time to continue. we hit an easier trail and then began the trail of death. it was straight up, no switch backs, and slippery. i did it as fast as i could, just wanting to get it over with. half way up, i had to stop, my heart was racing. we made it to the top to the overlook trail and were again dripping sweat. so glad to be at the top again, but missing the cool river below. we both agreed that it was one of the most challenging hikes we had ever done. if i were to do it again, i would definitely use trekking poles and maybe bring a swimsuit ;)

the LAST weekend

after rafting, with the new river behind us.

we had to do something big for our last weekend in SWVA. we decided that something was whitewater rafting in new river gorge, west virginia. ever since i moved to virginia (10 years ago!), i've wanted to raft in what are known to be some of the best rapids in the east. i LOVE whitewater rafting! i've rafted seven rivers in four different countries. but had yet to run the best rapids closest to home. we made the three-ish hour journey to lansing, west virginia, where we camped on the property of the rafting company. it was sort of a free-for-all site and as we entered the complex, the road was lined to the max with boy scouts. we sought an area elsewhere. if you've read my other blog entries, you'll know that Brittany and I have gotten a slow start in gaining our camping expertise. but there would be nothing but triumph in this final weekend. we set up our tent in 11 minutes (i timed it) AND i built a campfire! we did not need any brawny, facial-haired man nor a skinny catracho using plastic as kindling. we made a campfire! and then we roasted marshmallows.
the next morning after breakfast and an unfortunately long delay of our rafting time, we finally gathered (with the boy scouts) for our safety and instruction lecture. we set off with our helmets, life jackets and paddles on an old school bus up river. there were eight of us in the raft, plus our guide, Harley, who was a native west virginian that would have been cute if it hadn't been for the BO and bad teeth. Harley immediately chose the two big black guys to sit at the front of the boat after sizing up there biceps in comparison to those of Brittany and me. This reminded me much of my rafting in Perú and I realized this is just downright discrimination! It became apparent very early on that size did not matter. These guys had never rafted (did i mention i've rafted 7 rivers) AND they had no concept of the correct way to paddle and set rhythm. now, i don't need to be in the front purely based on the fact that i am just as good a paddler as any man. but its where all the action is!!! and i don't want to miss out on the best ride because i'm a woman. fortunately, karma visited us as the guys were each tossed from the boat at least two times. the last time it happened was in our most technical rapid. we had to get around two large rocks and we had to do it by paddling hard and together. the instructions were, if you fall out, just cling to the raft. we started down and i could tell we were not in sync. the guide commanded "all forward, dig in guys!" but it was too late. we hadn't made it around that first rock and instead slid up onto it. as the rushing water pushed our boat side ways into a hole, i thought for sure we would flip. i came close to falling out and even closer when Brittany came tumbling toward me from across the boat. thankfully, my shin stopped her. but i looked and the two guys were gone. then clinging to the boat. then mass chaos which seemed to last forever. the guide calling out for them to be pulled in to the boat ASAP as we were approaching our second large rock. i didn't mention that the people placed second in the boat were the girlfriends of these two useless guys. they were equally useless and the guide began to sound nervous, "get them in the boat NOW." after some confusion and, i hate to admit, giggling, the guys were pulled back in and the guide commanded, "anyone with a paddle, forward!" it was Brittany and I paddling full force, with the guide directing. we made it to still water and the guide said, "well, i've never done that one that way. interesting." this makes for a great story and it was definitely fun, but it still annoys me that it is my second crazy mishap in a rapid that i can attribute to poor paddling on the part of men.

soon after that we approached the new river gorge bridge, which is the longest single arch bridge in the western hemisphere. its much cooler looking at it from the bottom vs. while you're crossing it. and although i did not have my camera in the raft, we stopped at an overlook and took some photos on our way out of town.
to be continued...

fun fact: did you know the "new" river is actually the second oldest river in the world? which is the first?