65 & 66: Facing South



W E S T E R N   M D

I really dislike cold weather.  It’s gloomy, draining and greatly demotivates.  But every year, at least once, I fully embrace the hate by spending a day wrapped in it.  Often this involves hiking to a windy Appalachian outcrop and letting the cold to penetrate to the core.  Masochistically, this deliberate embracing of cold inoculates me, taking the edge off a season of discontent.  And it works every time: for several days after, the cold becomes much more tolerable. 

This winter’s inoculation is a two-parter.  In western Maryland, not far from where the coldest temperature ever recorded in the state occurred, two Nature Conservancy (TNC) properties - Fort Hill Limestone Glade and Oldtown Shale Barrens - share commonalities in that neither is open to the public and both exude feeling of old western movies.

Mountains are comprised of varying layers of rock.  Some layers are less resilient, and when exposed to the elements they crumble rapidly.  Limestone and shale are particularly vulnerable rock layers.  As they break down, their detritus accumulates into a loose jumble unable to hold much water.  When the detritus scree is on south-facing slopes, the dryness becomes exaggerated since south-facing slopes receive the maximum amount of sunshine in a day. 

And one final ingredient adding to the dryness of Fort Hill and Oldtown is this: orographic lifting, a condition more-commonly known as a rain shadow.  Higher mountains just to the west of these properties act as cloud rakes, scraping the moisture from the prevailing wind and clouds as they move across the state.  This rain shadow effect is extreme in Maryland.  The very wettest and driest counties in the state are side by side.  Making their border clearly visible are the many large wind turbines that dot the high ridge demarcating the two locales. 

Despite the fact that these movie-worthy sites are visually exciting, they are very fragile and hence, not open to the public. To visit either you need both permission and the secret directions of how to access them.  Being a longtime supporter of TNC, I was unhesitatingly granted permission when I called.  The secretive directions to the first property – Fort Hill - were amusing and included these challenges:
“park across from the abandoned gas pumps”
“rock-hop the mountain stream, if you can”
“walk trespassingly along the RR tracks”
“when you see the decrepit old fence, you’ve arrived.”

Though comical, the directions are spot on.  When I spot the decrepit old fence, I in deed have arrived. 

Ascending the scree of crumbled cherty limestone up a steep mountain slope is challenging.  Literally, two steps up are followed by one step sliding back.  After some huffing, I reach a high spot smack in the middle of the glade. 

What is most notable are the stunted oaks.  Typically in the Appalachians, trees grow to 100 feet tall, but here on this poorly-soiled, south-facing slope in the rain shadow of western Maryland, the oaks only reach 20 feet high… and are spaced widely amid minimal understory.  The open feel of this unique glade is very welcomed.  Normally, in this part of the country, mountain visits are claustrophobic at times. 

Fort Hill Limestone Glade
I wander amid the stunted trees then find a nice opening which affords the best views.  Off to the west are views of the wind turbines marking the edge of the rain shadow.  To the south, just across the Potomac River is West Virginia.  And just over the ridge to my back is a deep, north-facing ravine whose much taller trees provide a comforting backdrop.  I revel in the peaceful sights of the glade on this quiet morning, fully aware of the uniqueness of place. 

Upon my return, I follow a deer trail into the north-facing ravine and immediately notice an increase in bird chatter.  Bluebirds, downy woodpeckers, and robins are aplenty – apparently more comfortable here than on the movie sets of old westerns.  The ravine reconnects with the railroad tracks where I trespassingly walk, then rock-hop again back toward the abandoned gas pumps and my parked car. 

*****

Leaving Fort Hill, I head toward Oldtown passing first through Cumberland where I shopped for an engagement ring for my wife Allison thirty four years ago.  It was a shitty town then and still is today, unable to re-invent itself in a modern economy.  The mountains surrounding Cumberland are beautiful and dramatic, but the town is suffering. 

The route from Cumberland to Oldtown essentially follows the C&O Canal.  When I arrive, more trespassing is required.  The map TNC gave me didn’t specify where to park so I pull off at a property posted strongly with no trespassing signs.  Damn the torpedoes.  I ascend trespassingly up the north-facing slope knowing that very shortly I will enter TNC lands.  I connect with another deer trail which is the most efficient and primal path for gaining altitude.  Soon I spot a welcoming TNC boundary sign.  And a little further on I spot the barrens. 

Arriving from the back side has placed me at the top of the ridge.  Hesitant to disturb this sensitive environment, I explore only along the top ridge, looking down upon the barrens.  I walk the full length of the property noting its similarities to Fort Hill.  And its differences too.  The shale is more finely granulated than the limestone of Fort Hill.  Not quite sand-like, but considerably smaller and much more fragile.  Instead of oaks, the dominant tree here is cedar, and the understory contains a regionally rare three-flowered melic grass. 

After a time of excited exploration, I pause to let my intrusion quietly dissipate.  I sit still and meld into this property’s essence which is especially enjoyable on this very sunny day.  A pileated woodpecker begins encircling me, cawing incessantly warning others of my presence.  To its chagrin though, my now-stillness and total respect for this wonderful property make the warning call unnecessary.  I pose no threat.

Though I have come to inoculate myself from the cold, this spot atop the barrens is a rare, mid-winter opportunity to bake.  The warm sunshine is offset by cool breezes – ideal conditions for lulling bathers into sun-burning.  But this surprisingly warm experience has only amplified why Fort Hill Limestone Glade and Oldtown Shale Barrens are such unique places.  At both, nature has lined up a powerful trio: loose soil on south-facing slopes in a rain shadow.  Not exactly the cold inoculation I set out to acquire, but that’s OK.  A mid-winter sunburn is just as inoculating. 

Oldtown Shale Barrens

LEARN MORE ABOUT TNC’S WORK AT FORT HILL HERE

LEARN MORE ABOUT TNC’S WORK AT OLDTOWN HERE

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

93: Unfragmented Wildness

94: A Happy Place

95 & 96: New York; New York