Fern-Infused Forest of Old Growth Hemlocks

     Summersville Lake in West Virginia is one of tens of hundreds of flood control projects by the US Army Corps of Engineers. They also build excellent campgrounds on these lakes. On the shores of Summersville Lake is the Battle Run Campground where I stayed.

 When I registered at the campground office, this sign greeted me.

      This very clean, well-run campground with 110 spacious campsites, all with electricity, is popular among native West Virginians and crowded on weekends. Pretty sure there are no doggy-turds on this beach.

       The campground culture here resembles a suburban family lifestyle because it's mostly working folks with children. Folks can play horse-shoes, basketball, ride bikes around the campground, swing and slide at the kiddy playground . . . . 

. . . grill hotdogs and hamburgers on a pit, go boating or paddling and dock right at their campsite, and socialize around a campfire.  

     Motor boating is popular here. There are several marinas and boat launches around the lake. But paddling my little ski in a large artificial lake with motorboats isn’t my thing, so I biked three miles to the nearby Carnifex Ferry Battlefield State Park. It’s a Civil War battle site. Every other year, the Civil War buffs come here to re-enact the battle that ultimately led to West Virginia’s statehood and alliance with the Union. The Confederate troops were entrenched here at Henry Patterson’s old homestead (see photo below) but eventually they escaped during the night on the ferry to the other side of the Gauley River.

     When I rode my bike to this state park on a picturesque country road, and saw this old homestead, that’s how I came upon the “Patterson Trail” sign. It was almost sunset and I needed to bike back to camp, so I walked only about one hundred yards. It led to an overlook site of the Gauley River which feeds Summersville Lake; nice view but the trail itself wasn’t all that great. 

      So early the next morning, I drove and parked La Lair at the trailhead to complete the three-mile Henry Patterson Trail and its spur trail, the Pierson Hollow Trail. I rigged the camera for a timed photo to show how my favorite little stool comes in handy for putting on hiking boots and numerous other camp-related activities. I sit on it daily; drinking coffee outside in the morning, cooking, slicing, dicing veggies at the stove, chess on my Kindle or laptop work at a table, waiting for a parade to start, etc. It's lightweight and folds and stows easily. I brought this stool home from China five years ago. Rural Chinese folks carry two things with them everywhere; a tea flask and this stool which never varies in design. This stool isn’t Made in China for Americans, it’s a well-made Chinese stool for Chinese. Anyway, seconds before the timed camera aperture opens, this guy drives up and he’s in the photo!

     Chris had just retired and he wants a van just like La Lair. He asks lots of questions about costs and the custom build process. But he doesn’t ask why I have a door-stop alarm strapped to my helmet. Eventually we say “adieu” and he tells me I’ll enjoy the Patterson Trail. The trail leads to a second overlook area of the Gauley River. I’m still lukewarm about this trail.

 The trail gradually descends and I’m suddenly in a fern-infused forest of Hemlocks.

Beautiful fern-lined trails. Our great-great grandfathers and uncles fought a war here.

 Everywhere I look is a blanket of ferns. It’s shady and cool, with a spot or two of sunlight.

     I surprise a snake emerging from the ferns; it retreats quickly and coils under the ferns. I literally took a LEAP of faith hoping its striking distance was less than the span of my leap!

At the end of the spur trail, someone used a chainsaw to make these unique seats from a fallen tree.

 Ferns grow so profusely that someone needs to mow.

The best section of this trail was the Old Growth Hemlocks.

 Even the moss-covered fallen Hemlocks are magnificent.

      There were over 300 campers back at the Battle Run Campground, but I had this extraordinary natural treasure to myself. A very worthy, reverent trail.