The further east we get, the sadder we get.
Passing into West Virginia, we entered a state that is NOT new to us, and we are just a few hours from home, and the end of this stage of our adventures.
We are slowing down a little and limiting our driving time, but still fulfilling our desire to experience more Harvest Host locations.
For our first night in West Virginia, we picked a spot called, on the app, Sally’s Farm, about 20 minutes outside of Charleston, the state capital.
It’s simply not easy to get around West Virginia. The state is all mountains, and every road is up and down. Everything takes longer than it feels like it should.
Sally’s Farm is at the end of mile-long one-lane road, with shoulder drop-offs. She asked us to call her when we got off the highway so she could meet us at a driveway and show us where to park.
We were a little taken aback. Sally’s Farm isn’t much of a farm. It’s a wonderful property that she is doing her best to maintain, and the spaces she has allotted for RVs are far from her main house, and tucked behind some junk cars and abandoned trailers. Wearing jodhpurs and a T-shirt, Sally guided us into her horse pasture and told us to park anywhere.
It was a beautiful little spot. We unhitched – and then made the worst error we’ve made so far, which I will discuss below.
We told Sally we needed to go shopping, and she directed us to a store and also a winery at the end of the road, and invited us to sip wine on the porch with her if we brought back a bottle.
But we needed dinner, so headed into Charleston and grabbed pizza and beer at Pies and Pints, which we recommend (it’s a small chain.) We provisioned up at a Piggly Wiggly which was filled with shoppers who match every West Virginia stereotype you might have, and bought Sally a bottle that we would give her later.
As we headed back, Sally texted us that she had let the horses out, and we’d be sharing the pasture with them. We then had strangest, most unique kind of night. Prufrock was surrounded by nine munching horses and ponies – all night. They were right by our windows, chomping away. They occasionally nudged the camper, and pushed the side mirrors in on tow vehicle. It was crazy and weird and a once in a lifetime experience.
Sally had told us about some paths and trails on her 170 acre property. So the next morning, w explored them, and then took our bottle of wine up to her house.
She invited us in – showed us the portraits of her family, from New England and Pennsylvania, who earned their wealth in part from oil, coal and gas. She was raised on the Chesapeake Bay – and lives now in the home she built with her husband.
We later did an internet search, and learned that she ran unsuccessfully for agriculture commissioner and for the state legislature in West Virginia, and is involved in sustainable farming. We instantly regretted that we did not accommodate her offer to sit and talk the night before. It would have been fascinating.
I entertained thoughts about coming back, staying a week, helping her do work on the farm and property. We know she’d love it.
We packed up and headed off to a winery about an hour away from Morgantown, West Virgnia, another Harvest Host site.
We arrived at Lambert’s Winery at about 5 p.m., and co-owner J.B. Lambert greeted us and gave us a tour of the property.
He runs a winery that was founded by his parents in 1992. They reclaimed stones from bridges and foundations across the state, and designed and built the sturdy buildings on the property. They’ve regularly expanded, building a pottery barn for his mother and converting a wine cellar into a gorgeous wedding chapel. The winery hosts weddings every weekend.
The evening we arrived, J.B. and his sister were firing up dueling pizza ovens to host two corporate events – one for energy industry employees, and another for West Virginia school finance officials.
J.B. also runs a UHaul rental operation down the street, and has a tent rental business. I was amazed. When I told him he must be the most successful entrepreneur in the area, he brushed the compliment aside. “I’m just trying to make a buck in West Virginia,” he said.
The whole area around the winery is named for the Jackson family – notably the Civil War general Stonewall Jackson, a confederate. J.B. gave a running recommendation: an area known as Jackson’s Mill, the Jackson family homestead that is now a special campus operated by West Virginia University and is the home of 4H and a retreat center.
We headed there the next morning, and ran on the campus, river along a river, and even on an abandoned airstrip is part of the West Virginia fire training academy. Once again, we explored a spot that we would never have otherwise seen.
It brings home a lesson we have now learned: when people recommend “go explore my property” or “go to this place” – DO IT. They know the area. They want to share it.
We departed from Jackson’s Mill and drove an hour to Morgantown, where we set up in a coffee shop and worked for the rest of the day. Our humane digital nomad existence was on full display.
But we grew sadder: At the end of the day, we did another drive and wistfully entered Maryland. We’ve got two nights in the mountains, but most of the novelty is now gone.
Technical Notes
We thought we had almost mastered hitching and unhitching, but nope. At Sally’s Farm, the pasture was a little slopey. So, I leveled Prufrock side-to-side, then cranked up the front to lift the hitch from the ball. There was some tension — but I cranked through it. The hitch came free, and Prufrock rolled forward, and into her tow vehicle.
The hitch tongue left an ugly puncture. I was upset, and spent a lot of time pondering what I did wrong. One error: I left the wheel chucks a little loose. (My excuse: when I previously used the leveling ramp, the chucks became too tight, and touch to remove.) I’ll need to position the wheel chucks better. And, if there’s tension – don’t keep going. Slow down. Figure out how to relieve it. For now, I put some duct tape over the hole. This is mainly cosmetic damage, but we will figure out a repair.
