Time Traveling Through Shenandoah National Park

by Jeff Alt

  “Wow, I’ve seen bears in the wild before, but this is just as exciting as the first time!” Hug-a-Bug exclaimed. We all hopped back into the Jeep. “Was it a bear jam or a deer jam?” Dad asked. “Bear jam,” I answered.

  Traffic began flowing again and we continued our drive north.

  “When Shenandoah became a national park in 1935, there were only a few bears in the park and hardly any deer. It’s really quite amazing that now Shenandoah has one of the densest populations of black bears and white tail deer in the country,” Papa Lewis commented.

  “Where were the bears and deer in 1935?” I asked.

  “For well over two hundred years, people had made the park area home and the bear and deer population had been thinned by hunting. There were farms, pastures, orchards, grist mills, mines, and roads all throughout the park,” Papa Lewis explained.

  “That’s so hard to believe with all this thick forest here now,” Hug-a-Bug said.

  “Did Indians live here in the park? I know we met the first humans that lived in the area back at Rockfish Gap. But after that period of time, did any Indian tribes live within the park area?” I asked.

  “There is evidence that Indians used the park land to hunt. They’ve found all sorts of arrowheads throughout the park. But by the time white people settled here, the Native Americans had moved out of the area. They don’t have much information on the Native Americans that once lived here,” Papa Lewis explained.

  Just past milepost sixty, Dad pulled off of Skyline Drive into a parking lot on the right side of the road. We had reached our destination.

  “This is it. We just have a short walk to the cabin from here—less than a quarter of a mile,” Papa Lewis announced.

  Dad and Mom organized the gear that we would need for the night. All of us carried our packs stuffed with extra equipment: a one-burner backpack stove, water filter, food for dinner, and snacks, headlamps, reading material, and our sleeping bags. Dad and Papa Lewis carried the cooler, and we headed out of the parking lot, across the Appalachian Trail, and arrived at Pocosin Cabin minutes later. The cabin had a covered porch with a picnic table and a large stone fireplace outside the front door. Papa Lewis and Dad set the cooler down, and pulling a key from his pocket, Papa Lewis unlocked the door. We carried our gear in. There were enough bunks to sleep eight, a small kitchen area, and a wood-burning stove.

  “Is this a home that belonged to a Shenandoah family?” Hug-a-Bug asked.

  “No, this was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps, or CCC, in 1937 as a mountain retreat. A settler’s cabin would’ve had the fireplace inside instead of out on the porch. The CCC was created by Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1933 to put people to work at the height of the Great Depression. They established several camps here in Shenandoah. As a matter of fact, the very first National Park CCC camp was based here in Shenandoah. The CCC was known as Roosevelt’s Tree Army. They built most of the park. Remember how I said that the people who built the A.T. had an army of help relocating it when they built Skyline Drive? That army was the CCC,” Papa Lewis explained.

  We stepped outside and enjoyed a great view of distant mountains from the porch. A field of wildflowers and tall grass served as the front yard of the cabin. The flowers were abuzz with bees and butterflies dipping in and out of rainbow-hued wildflowers. We were away from people and cars. It felt like our own mountain cabin home. This is awesome. The park creators sure must have thought this location through, I thought.

  Papa Lewis unfolded a map and spread it out on the picnic table. “Let’s take a short walk down the mountain along the Pocosin fire road to the old mission,” he suggested.

  “Sounds fun,” I said.

  “You mean there is a church mission up here in the park?” Hug-a-Bug asked.

  “There was. It’s no longer in use,” Papa Lewis answered.

  We all packed a few trail snacks, topped off our water, shouldered our packs, and set off. We walked with Papa Lewis along a path through the wildflowers and grass and came out on the fire road. The hike was just a short distance, and we dropped quite a bit in elevation. We arrived at our destination without working up a sweat.

  A set of wide stone steps like what you would see in front of an official building caught my eye. What was unique about them is that they led to nothing. The steps to nowhere, I thought. I walked over to get a closer look. The steps climbed up to the rock foundation of what was once a structure of some kind. The floor, walls, and roof were gone, and all that remained was a collapsed chimney and a stone foundation overgrown with weeds and partially covered with moss. Broken glass and metal were strewn about throughout the area. An old wood frame house with a rusted metal roof stood nearby, leaning to one side, on the brink of collapse. I felt like an archeologist as we walked through the remains of these structures. You could almost feel what it must have been like to be here when this was still an active community.

  “The Pocosin Mission opened in 1904 to serve the local community. An Episcopalian clergyman by the name of Fredrick William Neve moved to the U.S. from England and established several missions throughout the present-day Shenandoah National Park, with the purpose to teach religion and educate the children. Formal education was hard to come by in the deep mountain hollows of the Blue Ridge at that point in history. When Shenandoah became a park, most of the homes and buildings were torn down or dismantled. There are ruins like this throughout the park,” Papa Lewis explained.

  “What’s a hollow? Why were the buildings removed from the park, and where did all the people go?” Hug-a-Bug asked.

  “A ’hollow’, pronounced ’holler’ in the Appalachian region, is a term used to describe a small valley in the mountains between two hills. We will explore where the people went and what happened to the buildings later. Don’t let me forget,” Papa Lewis answered.

  “What do you say we time travel back and see what it was like here,” I suggested.

  Without hesitation, everyone gathered around and I said, “Take us back to May, 1904.”

  A burst of air smacked us, and everything went dark then lit back up again. My backpack was gone and my hiking shorts and shirt were replaced with denim overalls and a button shirt. I held a leather-bound book entitled McGuffey’s First Eclectic Reader. Hug-a-Bug wore a bright cotton dress and leather boots, and held the same leather-bound book as me. Papa Lewis and Dad wore overalls and boots, and Grandma and Mom wore dresses and boots like Hug-a-Bug’s.

  The stone steps that seconds ago led to nothing but crumbled ruins now climbed up to a wide double-door entrance of a building structure with a fresh coat of paint. The building looked official somehow, like it was a church or something. The tree canopy was cleared away, allowing the sun to shine down on us, and the trees surrounding us in the forest perimeter were massive, much larger than the trees before we time traveled.

  “Bubba Jones and Hug-a-Bug, the book you’re holding, the McGuffey Reader, was the book used to teach most kids to read up until the 1960s. Only one book has sold more copies than the McGuffey Reader: the Bible. So my guess is you’re about to go to school. This building served as both a school and a church,” Papa Lewis whispered.

  The metal-roofed home that was falling into ruin before we time traveled was now a quaint, cozy little house near the mission. The front door swung open and a young woman wearing a dress similar to the one Mom had on emerged carrying a bag of books. She walked over to where we stood.

  “Good morning, I’m the teacher from the mission. You must be here for school and I’m delighted to see that you even have your own McGuffey Readers. The other students are already inside if you would like to join them. Please sit with the older students towards the back,” the teacher said to Hug-a-Bug and me.

  “Yes ma’am,” Hug-a-Bug and I said in unison as we turned to walk up the steps and into the building.

  But before we climbed the steps, Dad spoke up, “Good morning. We’re just visiting the area. Our kids go to school back home and will not be stayin
g for your lesson. But thank you kindly for inviting them to join you.”

  “Very well, please join us for our church service on Sunday. I must get inside and teach the lesson. Have a blessed day,” the teacher responded.

  “Nice to meet you! You have a lovely mission here on the mountain. Thank you for opening your doors to us,” Mom responded.

  The teacher smiled and waved, then she turned and walked up the steps into the school.

  “During this time period, children of all ages and learning levels attended school together in one- room schoolhouses like this one. Some schools had to share teachers, so school was only in session when the teacher was available. The teachers would ride on horseback from schoolhouse to schoolhouse,” Papa Lewis explained in a whisper.

  We all walked into the tree line, out of view, and I said “Take us back to the present.”

  Seconds later, a gust of air pushed me back, everything went dark, and then we were once again standing at the ruins of the Pocosin Mission, wearing our modern hiking clothes and daypacks.

  “What happened to those massive trees? The trees today are so small compared to the ones back then,” I said to Papa Lewis.

  “In 1904, one out of every four trees in Shenandoah National Park was an American chestnut. These trees grew almost 100 feet tall and over 9 feet wide— they were huge! They were considered the redwood of the East because of their size. The American chestnut tree dominated the forests from Georgia to Maine. This tree was a huge part of the local economy in Shenandoah. Chestnuts are tasty. The nuts were collected and sold at market. The bark was peeled and sold to local tanneries to tan the leather, and it was also used to cover the outer walls of homes because it could withstand weather so well. The timber was the preferred choice of wood for making furniture, homes, and fence posts. Then in 1904, a fungus was accidentally introduced to North America from Asia. It wiped out a strand of American chestnut trees, and it spread. By 1927, the fungus had reached the Blue Ridge Mountains and killed every massive American chestnut tree in its path. The loss of this tree devastated the local economy, and this was just before the Great Depression hit. When Shenandoah became a park in 1935, the once-prominent giant American chestnuts were all dead. The park was littered with gray lifeless trees. By 1940, most mature American chestnut trees, wherever they grew, had been wiped out. Today, the American chestnut still sprouts and grows, but the fungus kills them off before they get very big,” Papa Lewis explained.

  “That’s awful. Is there anything that can be done to bring the tree back?” I asked.

  “Scientists have been working to create a tree that is resistant to the fungus by combining other tree species with the American chestnut. They are very close to introducing a hybrid species into the park. On the way back up to the cabin, let’s see who’s first to find a young American chestnut, untouched by the fungus. They are easy to spot if you know what you’re looking for.” Papa Lewis pulled out his Peterson’s tree identification guide and turned to the American chestnut tree. Look for trees with green leaves that are sort of oval-shaped, with jagged edges, like what you might see on a knife. That kind of edge is called ’serrated.’ The leaves alternate along the branch. The end of the branches will have flowers that grow into prickly burrs that contain chestnuts,” Papa Lewis explained pointing to the picture in the identification guide.

  Our focus on looking for a tree species took our mind off the short but strenuous steep climb back up to the cabin. Hug-a-Bug was the first to spot a young American chestnut tree. Before we reached the cabin, everyone had spotted at least one. Just as the cabin came into view from the trail, Dad asked me to stop. He wanted to look at something on my neck. He pulled his first aid kit out of his pack and took out a pair of tweezers. I felt a little poke in the back of my neck as he removed whatever it was.

  “Bubba Jones, you had a tick on your neck just below your hairline. I got it before it penetrated your skin,” Dad said.

  We had been checking each other for ticks since arriving in the park. As a matter of fact, we treated our clothes with Permethrin, a chemical that is harmless to humans after it dries, but will stun and kill ticks and mosquitoes. Before each hike, we sprayed our exposed skin with bug repellent as an extra measure. Shenandoah has several species of ticks, and some of them are so small they are difficult to see. But ticks penetrate your skin and infect you with Lyme disease or Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, both of which can be serious. The key is to prevent the tick from attaching itself to your skin and properly removing it before it penetrates the skin. Dad was on the ball!

  “Thanks Dad,” I said as we continued the remaining steps up to the Pocosin Cabin.

  “Bubba Jones, we got a message from Washington,” Hug-a-Bug yelled out to me from the porch of the cabin.

  My first thought when I heard Hug-a-Bug was, He’s okay! I’d been worried about Washington and his parents ever since we saw them fall off the cliff during our time travel at Blackrock. Who wouldn’t be worried? Regardless of Papa Lewis reassuring us that everything was okay, it’s not typical to fall off a cliff and be okay. My slow pace turned into a sprint over the remaining distance to the front porch. What did Washington’s note say? What is our next mission?

  CHAPTER 11

  THINGS ARE GETTING A LITTLE WILD

  A note similar to the others that Washington had sent to us had been placed beneath a rock on the picnic table. I quickly unfolded the letter.

  Dear Bubba Jones and Family,

  I hope you’re enjoying your time in Shenandoah National Park. I apologize for not being able to spend more time with you. I wish I could, but I’m not quite finished with my top secret project and it has required me to stay up at night. So I’m catching up on my sleep during the day. My parents thought I should reach out to you to let you know that we are all okay, just in case you were worried about us after the way we left you on our last visit. I will be in touch VERY soon with plans for us to meet again.

  —Washington

  “What is he up to that requires him to stay up all night? And what could be so secret that he can’t share it with us?” I asked.

  “Here’s some exciting news,” Dad interjected, “I sent a text to Uncle Boone, Aunt Walks-a-Lot, and Cousin Crockett yesterday inviting them to join us if they can, here in Shenandoah. I haven’t had a signal until now to see if they responded, but I just had a text come in from them, and guess what? They’re coming up here tomorrow. Lewis, where should I tell them to meet us?”

  “Tell them Big Meadows, Clark. That’s where we’re going from here.”

  “Awesome! I’m so glad they can join us!” Hug-a-Bug shouted. I was equally excited!

  After Dad finished with his reply back to Uncle Boone, I borrowed his phone and sent an update to Crockett. I gave him all the details about our Shenandoah adventure and told him everything we knew about Washington’s secret project. That way, I figured Crockett would have time to research anything he needed to and pack items that might help us. I wanted to find out what all of this top secret stuff was about, whether Washington was going to share it with us or not.

  Our time spent corresponding with family on Dad’s smartphone must have reminded Papa Lewis to turn on his phone and check for messages. He always looks out of sorts when he uses high-tech devices. He dresses in vintage 1940s clothing and wears a World War II rucksack—modern technology doesn’t really fit in with that. He flipped up his satellite antenna and walked out into the clearing in front of the cabin. A satellite phone uses overhead satellites orbiting the earth instead of cell towers, and allows you to communicate in mountain country where cell signals are unreliable, as long as you’re exposed to open sky. Papa Lewis doesn’t use modern gadgets much, but when he does, he does it right. He talked for a minute with whomever was on the other end of the call, and then he folded the antenna down and put the phone back in his pack.

  “The party is growing. Wild Bill is going to join us to. As a matter of fact, he’s in the park right now trying to fin
d us. He will be here soon. Put out an extra dinner plate,” Papa Lewis announced.

  Wild Bill, Papa Lewis’s cousin, was a time traveler up until recently. He and Papa Lewis received the ability to time travel from their grandfather on a backpacking trip forty years ago. As part of the family tradition, Wild Bill had passed his time travel ability on to our cousin Crockett on our last adventure. After being a time traveler for forty years, Wild Bill must miss having the ability to go back in time, I thought. When we caught up to Wild Bill on our last adventure, he was using his time travel skills to retrace the steps of historic figures. He took full advantage of his time travel ability when he had it. Since we can’t exactly share our time-travel adventures with just anyone, we were all pretty excited that he would be joining us.

  We all went into the cabin to make sure Wild Bill had a place to sleep. We each claimed a bunk and unrolled our sleeping bags. After that, Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Papa Lewis began to assemble our meal. Hug-a-Bug and I took water duty. We gathered up our water filter and several water containers and walked down to the spring, just a short distance from the cabin. There are springs and mountain streams throughout the park that offer plenty of water sources. But even though the water looks clean and clear, it may have microscopic little things in it called protozoa. These protozoa can cause illnesses such as Giardia or Cryptosporidium. Giardia and Crypto, as it is often shortened to because it’s easier to say, can make you very sick. Our filter was designed to remove these nasty pathogens. The spring was marked by a cement post just like all the other trail markers in Shenandoah, making it easy to find. Hug-a-Bug placed one end of the filter hose in the stream, and I pumped the water through our filter and out of another hose into our containers. In no time at all, all the jugs were full. We capped them, put them in a pack and climbed back up to the cabin.