A pictorial of the high bridge on The Georgetown Loop Railroad
I was so happy when I bagged a photograph at Devil’s Gate taken in the snow with a narrow-gauge train crossing the bridge. Just think, Memorial Day was coming up and winter was not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Warwood Tool is hard to find—heck, the first time that you came here a friendly lady at the local bakery had to give you directions to it. Built in 1905, way before the residential homes that now hide it, the shop building is long, low and gray, bound by the Ohio River and a rail trail. Warwood Tool is a maker of forged hand tools for the railroads, the mining industry and just about anyone else who uses their hands for their livelihood. The company was founded in 1854 over across the river in Martins Ferry, Ohio as a maker of agricultural tools, but Mr. Warwood brought his shop over to the West Virginia side and changed his focus with great success. Of course, times have changed. Competition from the US and abroad has cut into sales, making the last few years a struggle to survive, but a management change in 2020 has brought new life to the plant. The big hammer “Thumper” runs most every day and tools are still being painted a nice dark blue before going out the door.
In this era of smartphones and GPS, it is not as easy to get lost as it used to be. Gone are the days of stopping to ask directions, and puzzling over a tattered gas station road map. With a full tank of gas and no place pressing to be, getting lost can be an exciting pleasure, a gateway to discovery. In a sense, being lost is the essence of adventure.
When I set out with the camera, I usually have a plan, but my best intentions are easily de-railed by an interesting side road, or an arrow on a weed-overgrown roadside sign pointing to the unknown. Following my nose, I am soon happily lost.
We discover new things not on a well-worn path leading to a known destination, but by being lost. Being lost in the landscape is a way to be lost in time, and who knows what there is to discover around the next bend.
Of course, the smartphone in your pocket relieves the anxiety of not being able to find the way back at the end of the day, but sometimes I think maybe I would be happy just to stay lost.