For a week or two at a time, I am a solo resident at a Pioneer Cabin at Kumbrabow State Forest, Huttonsville, West Virginia. The cabins were built in 1930, part of Franklin Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corp (CCC) work relief program. If you’re
Three men stand in front of the Pit Stop, a mini-market and auto repair in the village of Valley Head, Route 219, West Virginia. “Yup, lots goin’ on here before the mine shut down,” says the tallest of the group, his head topped with a baseball cap,
Hailee’s father is sitting on his porch as I approach, two black-and-white photographs in my hand. “Oh, thanks,” he says. Maybe he had bigger things on his mind—no job, no money for groceries—but he doesn’t seem particularly thrilled. “I’d love to
Monday afternoon I arrive at Kumbrabow National Park a bit weary but ready to settle in. Cabin #4, my favorite of the Primitive Cabins, will be my home for the next seven days. The log cabin sits at the far end of a cluster of five cabins with a
Edgar Lewis lives in a hollow out Elk River way in a trailer on three acres of land. I first met Edgar on a warm September day as he stacked pieces of wood in his yard. He wore work clothes—old roomy jeans, red suspenders holding them up and an
For a week or two at a time, I am a solo resident at a Pioneer Cabin at Kumbrabow State Forest, Huttonsville, West Virginia. The cabins were built in 1930, part of Franklin Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corp (CCC) work relief program. If you’re
Three men stand in front of the Pit Stop, a mini-market and auto repair in the village of Valley Head, Route 219, West Virginia. “Yup, lots goin’ on here before the mine shut down,” says the tallest of the group, his head topped with a baseball cap,
Hailee’s father is sitting on his porch as I approach, two black-and-white photographs in my hand. “Oh, thanks,” he says. Maybe he had bigger things on his mind—no job, no money for groceries—but he doesn’t seem particularly thrilled. “I’d love to
Monday afternoon I arrive at Kumbrabow National Park a bit weary but ready to settle in. Cabin #4, my favorite of the Primitive Cabins, will be my home for the next seven days. The log cabin sits at the far end of a cluster of five cabins with a
Edgar Lewis lives in a hollow out Elk River way in a trailer on three acres of land. I first met Edgar on a warm September day as he stacked pieces of wood in his yard. He wore work clothes—old roomy jeans, red suspenders holding them up and an
For a week or two at a time, I am a solo resident at a Pioneer Cabin at Kumbrabow State Forest, Huttonsville, West Virginia. The cabins were built in 1930, part of Franklin Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corp (CCC) work relief program. If you’re
Three men stand in front of the Pit Stop, a mini-market and auto repair in the village of Valley Head, Route 219, West Virginia. “Yup, lots goin’ on here before the mine shut down,” says the tallest of the group, his head topped with a baseball cap,
Hailee’s father is sitting on his porch as I approach, two black-and-white photographs in my hand. “Oh, thanks,” he says. Maybe he had bigger things on his mind—no job, no money for groceries—but he doesn’t seem particularly thrilled. “I’d love to
Monday afternoon I arrive at Kumbrabow National Park a bit weary but ready to settle in. Cabin #4, my favorite of the Primitive Cabins, will be my home for the next seven days. The log cabin sits at the far end of a cluster of five cabins with a
Edgar Lewis lives in a hollow out Elk River way in a trailer on three acres of land. I first met Edgar on a warm September day as he stacked pieces of wood in his yard. He wore work clothes—old roomy jeans, red suspenders holding them up and an