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Find Fun On The Rocks In W.Va.

Photo from Neil MacFayden

Neil MacFayden prepares to cross a 200-foot-long swinging bridge, which hangs 150 feet above the ground.

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By DANIEL WOODRUM

dwoodrum@wfla.com

Published: March 20, 2009

Updated: 03/20/2009 07:44 pm

Indiana Jones had a good reason for crossing a dangerous, rickety swinging bridge across a deep chasm: Warriors from a bloodthirsty cult were chasing him.

I, on the other hand, was motivated only by fun, and a little fear, as I prepared for a similar crossing. I was halfway through my first rock-climbing experience, and the only way to finish the adventure was to pass between two narrow fins of stone 150 feet above the ground.

Fortunately, instead of rotting rope, my bridge was made from steel cables, and there was a safety line above my head. Dr. Jones might have appreciated that.

The long, swaying bridge at Nelson Rocks Preserve in the Allegheny Mountains of eastern West Virginia is just part of the private attraction's Via Ferrata - a system of permanently installed rungs and cables that make rock-climbing easier. It also makes it a lot less intimidating for someone like me, who would probably never consider a conventional climb.

Nelson Rocks Preserve is about a three-hour drive from Washington, D.C. The owners borrowed the Via Ferrata concept from Italy. During World War I, the Italians permanently installed cables and ladders in the Alps to allow for faster and safer troop movement. These were the first Via Ferrata, which translates to "iron roads."

Upon its completion in 2002, the Via at Nelson Rocks was only the second in the United States. Although the idea is spreading, there are still only a handful of similar setups.

Nelson Rocks Preserve isn't a big operation. If you blink, you'll miss the one tiny sign pointing up the dirt road that leads to it, off WV Route 55 near Judy Gap. A small shed serves as the business headquarters. The only restroom is an outhouse.

At the shed, I paid $45 fee to climb the Via, received my safety equipment, and met my climbing partners. Burt, Bonnie, Neil and Jeanne were from Ontario and had driven through the mountains every year on their way to vacation in Florida. They had always wanted to spend a few days hiking, climbing, and rafting through the Mountain State on their way to the Sunshine State, and now they were finally doing it.

Bringing Up The Rear

Our guide, Brian, greeted us. He has been living the life of a pioneer for several years now at Nelson Rocks, in a cabin that doesn't have an electric light or a flushing toilet. During our climb, we learned a lot about how he happily lives a primitive life. In 2002, he helped install the Via Ferrata, drilling hundreds of holes in the hard quartz rock, then gluing the rungs into place.

Our group hiked up to the base of the first fin, then stopped for instruction. Brian is fanatical about safety and spent a good half-hour making sure we knew what we were doing. Our equipment included a helmet, a harness that fit snugly around the crotch and a rope that looked like the letter "Y," with carabiners on all three ends. One end stayed fastened to our safety harness; the other two clipped to the continuous steel cable that ran the length of the Via. Never were we supposed to remove both clips at the same time.

Brian went first, then Bonnie, who had designated herself as the most nervous member of the group. This meant I would bring up the rear, and I couldn't have been happier. With no one behind me, I could take my time.

The Via Ferrata runs up, over and through the two rock fins, which jut out from a rounded, tree-covered hillside. The naturally occurring route has been there forever; the rungs and cables merely make it easier to navigate. For the first stage of the climb, we went up and to the left, working our way to a notch in the first fin. The Via passes through the notch, then continues up the other side of the first fin.

As each climber ahead of me reached the notch, I heard a "wow!" and when it was my turn, I "wowed," too. The view is well worth the tricky climb. I could see the other rock fin, the chasm in between, and, of course, that swinging bridge. Brian told us half the climbers call this the scariest part, and on a previous trip, it had made his brother cry.

Our group took a break at the end of the bridge, if for no other reason than to give us the chance to work up the nerve. The bridge is built with four cables. Two ran at our feet, with narrow, widely spaced boards serving as steps between them. The other two are waist-high, creating handrails. There are no reinforcements to keep the contraption from bouncing, twisting, or swaying in the wind. We clipped our safety lines to a fifth cable overhead.

As we rested at the foot of the bridge, a group of West Virginia State Police troopers came up behind us. They were using the Via to train for rescue operations. One of them was more nervous than anyone in our group. It was a big confidence boost for us all. He wasn't crying, but he was quivering.

After the troopers crossed, it was our turn. I once again let the Ontarians go ahead. Brian wanted only three people - at the most - on the bridge at a time. Once Jeanne neared the end, and Neil reached the middle, I took my first step. I couldn't help but look down, because each plank is spaced 18 inches apart (to decrease wind resistance and weight, Brian told us - adding to the thrill was merely a bonus). The key, we all later agreed, was staying focused on our feet, and not the tree tops far below.

The bridge wasn't terrifying. I felt so confident, that about midway across, I pulled out my camera for a few photos. As I turned to take a shot down the valley, I unintentionally leaned against the cable at my side, causing the entire bridge to shift. If I had leaned any farther, it felt like the bridge would have flipped over. My confidence suddenly dropped - thankfully, it was all that dropped. I put the camera away and didn't waste any more time.

Moving With Gravity

At the end of the bridge, another climb awaited, followed by passage through another notch, which took us to the far side of the second rock fin. This is where the big challenge awaited. The Headwall offers an optional 100-foot climb straight up. At the top of the narrow rock knife, an unobstructed panorama awaits.

I tackled the headwall with Neil and Jeanne. At the end of the climb, the rock's narrow ledge was only a couple of feet wide. I tried to stand, but the sheer drop on either side of my feet left me dizzy. So instead, I sat down and dangled my feet over the side. Looking down into the gap between the two rock fins, the swinging bridge appeared tiny and distant, and not the least bit threatening.

Only about 3 percent of climbers find the Headwall descent to be the scariest part of the climb, Brian told us. I discovered I was in that minority. Going down is tougher, I realized, because instead of fighting gravity, you're moving with it; it's easy to get going too fast.

As I grew tired on the descent, I took advantage of the "resting position," a simple - and thrilling - maneuver. Instead of staying clipped into the safety cable, I hooked onto one of the rungs above my head, and let go. My harness held all the weight, allowing me to dangle, hands free, on the side of the mountain.

Brian told us he has climbed the Via Ferrata hundreds of times - in rain, fog or snow. Under perfect conditions, he has traversed the entire Via in 15 minutes. We were approaching hour number five.

The remaining hike was certainly the least thrilling part of the day. Back at the parking lot, we removed our equipment and praised Brian's guidance, while Bonnie and Jeanne worked up the courage to visit the outhouse.

Who would have imagined that would be the scariest part of the adventure?

If You Go ...

•The Via Ferrata is open by appointment only. Visit the Nelson Rocks Preserve Web site, www.nelsonrocks.org, for information, but call (304) 567-3169 to arrange a climb.

•Expect the journey to take four hours or more. This includes time for the preclimb orientation and rest stops along the way.

•Leave your cell phone in the car - there's no coverage here. Also, wear a cheap wristwatch (or none at all). An expensive watch will likely end up scratched by the rocks.

• The nearest cold beverages and modern restrooms are at a convenience store in Circleville, 2 miles south. Lodging is limited in the area. I stayed at the Hermitage Motor Inn in Petersburg, 33 miles north of Judy Gap.

Also In The Area

West Virginia's Highest Point: You can see Spruce Knob from the Via Ferrata. It's the only mountain in sight that has a radio tower at the top. Even so, you won't find a cell phone signal at the 4,863-foot peak. You will, however, find an observation tower and a short trail that leads to a beautiful, rocky clearing and great views.

Canaan Valley and Blackwater Falls: Canaan Valley, about 30 miles from the Via Ferrata, is home to a state park and resort. It's especially beautiful in autumn. Just up the road, Blackwater Falls provides a relaxing spot to end the day.

Green Bank: If extra-terrestrials try to contact us, the folks at the National Radio Astronomy Observatory will be the first to know. They don't officially search for alien life, but rather use the "world's largest fully steerable single aperture antenna" - a very big satellite dish - to listen for radio waves from around the universe. On the free tour, you can find out why many of the NRAO's vehicles are diesel-powered and at least 50 years old.

Cass Railroad: Board a steam locomotive and chug your way thorough the West Virginia mountains. Cass is an old railroad town, now operated as a state park. In addition to the train rides, you can shop in an old company store, and stay the night in a company house.

Daniel Woodrum is a producer at News- Channel 8. See more of his photography at www.takemytrip .com.

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