* * Exploring the Tug River Valley

A week ago, I was on the road riding my motorcycle with two friends from Northern Virginia.  We were headed for Matewan, West Virginia, where one of the most important and tragic battles between coal miners and coal mine owners took place in 1920, the subject of the eponymous 1987 movie directed by John Sayles.  I also knew that Matewan was near the center of the nation’s most famous inter-family conflict, the feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys. 

I had a grand plan for this escapade.  I’d met these friends at rallies of the International CBX Owner’s Association.  The CBX is a particular model of Honda motorcycle that was produced only from 1979 until 1982.  With its magnificent 6-cylinder engine, it has become a cult classic bike and each of us owns a specimen.  We would ride these machines to the Tug River Valley and I would then write about that story and attempt to sell the article to one of the national motorcycle magazines.  The title was going to be, “Three Sixes on the Tour de Tug.”  Unfortunately, one of my two friends failed to get his motorcycle ready to make the ride.  I ended up loaning him one of my other bikes, a twin cylinder model called the Honda Pacific Coast.  My title then necessarily became “Two-and-a-third Sixes on the Tour de Tug.”

I sent an inquiry letter last week to one of the magazines and meanwhile started to work on the article itself feeling hopeful that at some point it might be accepted.

My wife Jane and Mary Ann Johnson, who does most of the critical editing for my writing, both commented that they felt the first draft of my article was inordinately negative.  Mary Ann wrote, “It definitely reads as if you were angry and in a stream-of-consciousness mood and absolutely miserable with the heat. I would suggest you ride in better weather.”

Granted, both days we were on the road it was extremely hot and I was plenty uncomfortable at times.  I wasn’t reticent in reflecting that in the article.  Nevertheless, Jane’s and Mary Ann’s comments took me by surprise because I really didn’t feel at all negative about the trip.  Most motorcyclists accept a certain level of discomfort as a routine matter of course.  Motorcyclists are exposed to the weather and the weather can often be cruel.  Being too hot, too cold, or too wet is a pain, but it is what it is.  One or the other is frequent.  You accept what you get.  Mary Ann’s suggestion that our ride be done in better weather was simply not feasible because of scheduling and momentum.  Once a ride is on the calendar, I tend to do it regardless.

I was familiar with most of the areas we visited, but there were still some surprises for me.  I didn’t know that Matewan was bracketed on both sides against frequent floods, the east side by the mountain and the west by a 20-foot tall floodwall, protecting it from the temperamental Tug.  Huge gates with moveable doors guarded every entryway.  Matewan was described as being the most flood-prone town in America until the wall was erected in 1997.  I did know of the horrific decrepitude in Pocahontas, Iaeger, and other coal camp towns, but my friends were shocked. 

Still, none of us felt negative about the trip.  As I said in the article, this isn’t Dollywood.  It is real Appalachia, real America.  Visits are not for the faint of heart.  But the Tug River Valley should be on the “must see” list of more tourists.

As I mentioned, the article is now in draft form.  Publications like national motorcycle magazines do not like to print things that have already been circulated.  However, if you would like to read it and are willing to keep it to yourself, please e-mail me <bikemike@nrvunwired.net> and let me know and I will send it to you as an attachment.