New River Gorge National Park
West Virginia, U.S.A. – Saturday, June 17th & Sunday, June 18th, 2023
“Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong. West Virginia, mountain mama, take me home, country roads.”
When I called my wife and mentioned I’d be traveling through West Virginia for a couple of days, her ears perked up. “Oh, that’s actually a real place from that song? What’s it like?”
My eyes scan across the dollar store wastelands tucked into the folds between the hills along the highway. Uhh… well as the song suggests, it’s very rural, and I guess we’ll leave it at that? She grew up in China, and it turns out “Take Me Home, Country Roads” by John Denver is very well known across Asia. The slow singing speed, simple words, and clear annunciation makes it a popular song among people learning English as a second language, and it’s reportedly played “everywhere.” I also suspect that Denver’s folk country sound closely matches the stereotype of what international listeners expect “American music” should sound like. Watch the 1995 Japanese animated film Whisper of the Heart, in which the song’s use in a student project factors heavily into the plot of the Tokyo-set coming-of-age story. (The whole movie is a lovely meditation on balancing the artistic impulse with the demands of life and the process of finding one’s creative voice, and is one of my all-time favorites from Studio Ghibli. (It also inspired a follow-up film in 2002, The Cat Returns, which is essentially Ghiblified furry fan-fiction. (But now I way, way, way digress.)))
West Virginia is home to what is still currently the newest addition to America’s National Parks: New River Gorge, which upgraded its listing at the start of 2021. With the sun setting closer to 9:00pm in late June, it was possible to see a good portion of New River Gorge even at the end of an intensive driving day that started with several hours at Busch Gardens Williamsburg. We arrived at the Grandview area just before 8:00pm.
The main overlook at Grandview is situated at 1,400 feet above the New River, providing a spectacular view of a sweeping bend along the river. The atmospheric haze and magic hour dusk certainly added to the spectacular impression.
We spent about ten minutes enjoying the overlook. Like several of the newer National Park designations, New River Gorge isn’t a purely wild setting, but demonstrates multiple historic and contemporary layers of human activity integrated within the natural environment. At Grandview, we watched what appeared to us as tiny model freight trains slowly work their way along a route following the bend in the river.
Still, the sky was changing colors quickly, and we didn’t stay too long, as there was another experience at Grandview I wanted to try before the dark settled in.
Castle Rock Trail is about a mile long loop trail that starts and ends near the Grandview overlook. The lower out portion of the trail is quite distinctive, as it follows along the gorge with the trail hugging many sheer rocky walls in places.
It’s not a particularly strenuous trail, but still has many places where you need to watch your footing. You wouldn’t want to get stuck on it after dark. I calculated we’d be fine on time, but between stopping for photos and going slow through rough portions of the trail, I didn’t know that with 100% certainty. It would have been nice to go at a more leisurely pace, but with sunset approaching the pressure was on to keep moving.
The far end of the trail stops along another overlook of the river. We stopped briefly to take some photos as the skies turned a hazy purple.
Fortunately the return route was much flatter, straighter, and faster. We made it back to the parking lot just a few minutes after sunset.
We were up early the next morning to continue our exploration of New River Gorge National Park. About a 45 minute drive north of Grandview is the park’s most iconic feature, the New River Gorge Bridge, which has its own visitor center and viewing platform at one end.
The arched bridge was completed in 1977 and stands 876 feet above the New River.
The bridge is wide and flat enough that it’s hardly even apparent when you’re driving over it. It’s only when you can appreciate the wider view from the spectator platforms that its full height above the gorge is appreciable.
Heading back up, the Canyon Rim Visitor Center was now open for the day. We took a quick tour of the exhibits inside.
From the visitor center, we began a scenic drive down into the gorge along Fayette Station Road. The one-way road is eight miles long, with several switchbacks crossing underneath the New River Gorge Bridge.
Looking up at the bridge, we could even see a group harnessed in for a bridge walk. I had considered adding this exact tour to the itinerary, but realistically there was no way the time commitment would have worked for our schedule.
At the bottom of the New River Gorge is the Tunney Hunsaker Bridge. This much, much smaller bridge was the original method to cross the New River from 1889 to 1977. It was later rehabilitated and reopened in 1997.
Today it mostly just serves the scenic route for tourists at New River Gorge National Park, where it offers this spectacular view of the New River Gorge Bridge from the vantage of the New River below, as well as a few interpretive panels. I always enjoy a good interpretive panel when I’m out exploring new places.
We made another stop along Fayette Station Road at Wolf Creek. This scenic trail includes a footbridge over one of the New River’s tributaries, with several waterfalls.
Back on the main road, the final stop is technically outside of New River Gorge National Park in the nearby town of Gauley Bridge. It’s just a short hike from the roadside parking lot.
And there it is: Cathedral Falls. This is one of the tallest waterfalls in West Virginia at around 60 feet. While the flow wasn’t especially heavy today, the stepped cascades over the shale and sandstone cliff were still very pleasant to watch.
We spent about ten minutes getting pictures and videos from slightly different angles of Cathedral Falls before moving on to Huntington.
Camden Park
Huntington, West Virginia – Sunday, June 18th, 2023
Camden Park was one of the smaller parks along the two-week itinerary, but it had some of the most influence over how the rest of the itinerary was put together. It was one of the last parks to publish its schedule for the season, well after I needed to lock reservations for other parts of the tour into place. It also had one of the more limited schedules I needed to work around, being closed for a good chunk of the week in June. During the planning phase, I could use the archived version of the 2022 park schedule to get an idea of what 2023 might be like, but I also couldn’t be sure if, coming back from the pandemic, 2023 might finally resemble the schedule from 2019, when fuller weekly operations were still in effect. Ultimately, I had to move some reservations for Busch Gardens around (a process that took several hours and cost a bit extra to complete) to fit Camden Park into a Sunday visit, and my hunch proved correct; despite being a national holiday, the park would not be open for Monday, June 19th.
Given the headache involved, it’s tempting to conclude that Camden Park should not have been worth the hassle to keep in the plan. But once I knew we’d be passing anywhere near the Appalachia region on this trip, Camden Park was a non-negotiable for me. For one thing, it was one of the only parks in the country to have two classic wooden roller coasters that I had not yet visited.1 And, given the general state of the park and the West Virginia economy in general, I didn’t know if I would ever get another chance to experience it. Especially with so many smaller attractions struggling since COVID, I made it a point to prioritize parks that seemed to be at the greatest risk of quietly closing someday soon with little forewarning.
In retrospect, perhaps Camden Park was at less risk than I feared in 2023. More than two years later it’s still humming along, and although the general state of the historic trolley park would definitely make it a top candidate for redevelopment in nearly any other metro market, it’s clear that in Huntington the property wouldn’t have much value as anything else. People still need to be entertained, and as the only amusement park in West Virginia it had a loyal local audience who were willing to turn out for Father’s Day Sunday.
And if I can let you in on a dirty little secret… I actually really liked Camden Park! It’s got plenty of throwback retro charm for a trolley park that’s been in operation since 1901. Yes, it’s more dilapidated than many of the better-kept vintage parks found a bit further north in Pennsylvania, sometimes comically so.
(The Big Dipper coaster uses a cinder block tied to a dangling cable as a trim brake’s counterweight.) But it was dilapidated only in a way that suggested a lack of capital, not a lack of labor. There were clearly people who still care about this park and try to keep it running in the best condition with the tools of their disposal. Cosmetic rust or dry rot can’t always be addressed, but if something can be cleaned or painted, they’ll make the effort. Such as in the case of the Hawnted House dark ride, which was very meticulously painted the year prior in 2022. Most of the rides were open (even if a few probably shouldn’t be!) and the line-up is a pretty good, well-balanced mix of classics with a few newer things. We had about two hours at the park, and honestly I wish we had more time. The park may be one of the most humble in the nation, but there’s still a sense of pride, care, and community throughout which can’t always be said of other parks like it. I suspect for many West Virginians, Camden Park represents the kind of home that the country roads will take them.
Big Dipper
Built in 1958, the Big Dipper is one of the sketchiest looking wooden roller coasters still in operation in the United States. There’s the aforementioned cinder block counterweight, as well as the general appearance of the spindly, underbuilt wood structure covered in peeling white paint that makes you question the durability of the little amount of wood that is there. And then you see the three-car, bulky aluminum box NAD cars rumble around the track, the entire structure bending and shaking with it, and every sense tells you that you’re not going to survive this ridable OSHA violation.
The most surprising thing about these old wooden coasters that haven’t been updated in decades is just how—okay, not necessarily smooth—but comfortable they are. Potholes only hurt if they’re made of hard material, but the superstructure, rail stacks, and even the trains themselves have so much flexibility on the Big Dipper that they collectively function as giant shock absorbers, directing any hard or unpleasant forces away from the riders.
The roughest wooden coasters often are the ones with the most work done to strengthen and rigidify the structure, bouncing all the force back through the structure and up into the seat. It’s like being in a solid cement building during an earthquake: the structure may survive, but the inhabitants won’t.
Not only did we survive the Big Dipper (whew!), but we had a lot of fun doing so! The layout is a sort of awkward figure-eight staked upon itself so the drop heights aren’t necessarily what you’d expect, with a small first dip before a much larger second one. Moments of airtime happen unexpectedly due to uneven track shaping. Apart from those moments there’s a constant jostle—not uncomfortable, but like the seats are balanced atop a bouncy ball—
that always keeps it enlivened and literally edge-of-your-seat. An extended tunnel near the end of the layout adds some additional thrills as the screams echo against the corrugated steel.
A “classic coaster” usually comes with a certain degree of prestige and romanticism necessary to keep a ride well-maintained and valued by the general public well beyond its original service life deep into the 21st century. But I’m glad we can also still have a “classic” that’s rough, rickety, gnarly-as-hell, but still a ton of fun, just like it always was from the day it opened. Like all things in life, I know the Big Dipper won’t last forever, but I’m happy knowing that for now it’s still there as a tiny little time warp to the way that earlier generations of coaster lovers got their cheap thrills.
Lil’ Dipper
The Lil’ Dipper opened at Camden Park in 1961. It’s the last remaining example of the “Comet Jr.” model children’s wooden coaster produced by National Amusement Device between the late 1940s and 1960s. The double out-and-back layout consists of a couple of straight dips and flat curves, and is about as simple of a wooden coaster layout as imaginable. The rectilinear design isn’t the most space efficient, since it leaves a large, inaccessible hole in the middle of the layout, but it does seem the most idiot-proof, plugging together simple curves and lines in a way that anyone could set up in their backyard if they so desired. Despite its diminutive size, it still comes equipped with a five car train with the Art Deco style grill and headlights on the front car, giving it slightly more style than the average kid’s coaster. Yet even still, this was clearly an attempt to commodify and mass produce a roller coaster that prioritized efficiency over craft or novelty, the veritable SBF Visa spinning coaster model of its day.
Slingshot
Speaking of, the third and by far newest coaster at Camden Park is another example of said SBF Visa spinning coaster model called Slingshot, which in the span of ten years has become the world’s most successful production model roller coaster and it’s not even close.
Hawnted House
Come for the wood coasters, stay for the Hawnted House, objectively the best ride at Camden Park, and subjectively maybe also a roller coaster depending on who you ask.2 This classic Pretzel dark ride with delightfully vernacular spelling also opened in 1961, and starts with a chain lift and small gravity-driven dip and rise on the outdoor show portion. However, even the indoor portion, which consists of a series of tight switchbacks through dark halls filled with ghastly blacklight murals and a few triggered jump-scare gags, continues to be propelled under the influence of gravity at a slight downward slope. This gives it a very different feel from all other dark rides, both classic and modern, as the cars speed through the scenes with a slightly unwieldy lack of control, seemingly possessed by some unseen spectre pushing the tiny vehicles along.
This is one of two gravity-driven Pretzel dark rides to have operated in recent memory, and the other one, the Devil’s Den at Conneaut Lake Park, closed in 2019.3 The Hawnted House is much better cared for, having evidently received a complete repaint the year prior in 2022. In a couple prominent locations including at the top of the lift hill features the signature of “Chuck the Dark Ride Artist” (who is Chuck Burnham, a longtime midway artist and designer). I’m sure Burnham had relative free reign to sign his work however he wished, but this Camden Park far ahead of virtually the entire themed entertainment industry in terms of offering public credit for the people who create these experiences. Apart from the numerous benefits to talent on the business end, public attributions remind audiences that these attractions are both a work of art and a product of labor. Even people deep within this industry often share an origin story about how previously they never thought about the talent it takes to build these experiences until presented by some opportunity, and I’m always a little deflated by that because it should be one of the most obvious things in the world if not for this industry’s deeply entrenched anti-labor agenda that’s largely gussied up as “preserving the magic”. Magic doesn’t require blood, sweat, or tears, but it’s those very qualities that allow me to relate to a work in a way that inspires awe. The Hawnted House is a very low-budget affair, but clearly one built (and maintained) with a lot of love and passion. For that reason alone, it already ranks quite respectably on my list of the world’s best dark rides.
Other Rides
Among the other rides we tried at Camden Park included an original W.F. Mangels Whip, which, true to its name, was running well, with good whip around the corners.
The Log Flume had a concrete channel embedded in a grassy field with a couple of small lifts and drops. The absence of any slope along the route meant it was powered entirely by water pumps, making for a very slow, meandering ride.
The Skyliner Chairlift was another fairly slow experience, with a simple out-and-back route above the mini golf course.
A sample of other attractions we didn’t ride.
One of the most unique features at Camden Park isn’t even marked at the location, although it is indicated on the guide maps. Just behind the Whip building and between the Scrambler and Flying Scooters is a small hill covered in grass and trees protected by a simple chain fence. This is actually an ancient burial mound created by the pre-Columbian Adena culture around two to three thousand years ago. It’s the third largest such mound in West Virginia, and a rather incredible sight to be found in the middle of a functioning amusement park. Even as one of the oldest amusement parks in the country, the existence of Camden Park surrounding it makes up only a tiny fraction of this mound’s complete history. This part of the country is actually full of echoes from the ancient past.
Serpent Mound State Memorial
Peebles, Ohio
As we headed from West Virginia northwest into Ohio, I had one more brief stop in a remote corner of the state I was unlikely to pass by again any time in the future. Just outside Peebles, Ohio is the Serpent Mound State Memorial, consisting of the world’s largest serpent earthwork effigy.
For the Serpent Mound’s size and significance, there’s still quite a lot that isn’t known about it. It was originally assumed to have been constructed by the same ancient Adena culture that built the mound in Camden Park a couple thousand years ago, although more recent scholarship debates this and believes it could have been relatively more recent, by a different American Indian culture closer to one thousand years ago. Regardless of its origin, it still holds great significant to modern Native Americans and archeological study at large.
First, there is a small museum and visitor center where the nominal admission fee is handled.
Then out back you can walk a trail that runs along and around the giant earthwork. The serpent extends over 1,300 feet long, and at the far end features what appears to be the snake head opening its mouth to devour an egg-like circular mound.
An old lookout tower has since been decommissioned. It would be nice to get a newer observation platform somewhere on the site to see the mound from an elevated perspective, as at ground level it can be harder to appreciate the full design, especially in photos.
What I find incredible is just how neat and precise the earthwork design is. It might easily be confused for a modern land art creation, which have the advantage of being photographable from the air. It’s impossible to put yourself in the frame of mind of the original people who built this massive effigy that can only be full appreciated from the perspective of the heavens, although I, like I’m sure many visitors, do spend a couple moments trying.
There are a couple more round Adena burial mounds nearby to see as we headed out to one of the last destinations on the two week journey.
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