West Virginia has quaint, rustic communities and squalid, abject poverty. It never just rains anymore. It comes down in buckets, then quits. Mid-May is too early for the native rhododendron and laurel. There are fewer people on the roads this year than last.
Picnic lunch is an adventure in high wind.
The mountains are worth every bit of it. Beautiful, compelling work. In the beginning the world was without form, and void. And God separated the light from the dark, and did two loads of laundry. All they talk about are cup holders, kiddies seats and doors.