Septembers in the Mountains

#259 / Flood Time Capsule: 2002-2004

For several Septembers beginning 21 years ago this week, The Flood started autumn with a wonderful weekend in the mountains.

The Cranberry Shindig, an annual one-day celebration of Appalachian culture held at the Cranberry Mountain Nature Center in Pocahontas County, was in its 15th year by the time The Flood was invited to be part of the fun.

Year One

On the weekend of Sept. 28-29, 2002, the Family Flood escaped the infamous Ohio River Valley heat and humidity by heading to the hills.

That Saturday night, we returned to Brazenhead Inn, Will Fanning's traditional Irish lodge in Randolph County, to play for a gathering of aficionados of the Lucia, an Italian sports car (as well as for a bunch of other people who came in just to hear the band). A fun evening, as always.

Then the next day, we trekked into Monogahela National Forest to play for the first of what became an annual Flood outing for the next few years, Cranberry’s fall festival.

To enjoy the early autumn color, people brought picnic lunches and lawn chairs and spent the day. The event featured lots of craftspeople — artisans, demonstrations including blacksmithing — and the band shared the stage (actually, it was the parking lot) with The Old Dominion Cloggers from Martinsville, Va.

We all got along beautifully. The band encouraged the cloggers, then when we played our sets, anyone who felt like it could get up and dance, and many did (even Smoky the Bear at one point), especially whenever we turned Joe Dobbs loose for another fiddle tune.

Year Two

Not all the Cranberry trips were as easy as that first one. For the band’s 2003 visit, for instance, the weather was obstinate, forcing us to move the whole shootin’ match indoors, “but we came out smelling like a rose,” Charlie told his mom in an email the next day.

“When the rain chased us out, The Flood simply regrouped. We grabbed some chow -- Bub’s wife, Yvonne, brought chili, which was just perfect for the day -- moved inside the nature center and set up in a very informal arrangement.

“We couldn't use the sound system -- the space was too confined -- but we didn't need it. The acoustics were fine. People sat and stood around and listened for another couple of hours. We made ourselves a nice little memory. And the folks at the center were so happy they immediately invited us back next year.”

Year Three

For that third shindig trip, the band again made a weekend of it.

We started out with a gig in the exceedingly neat little West Virginia town of Marlinton, tucked into the Pocahontas County mountains, where we played the 3rd annual "Road Kill Cookoff.”

They set us up to play our sets in a beautiful gazebo in the center of the town square on the edge of a little park.

The cookoff, Charlie told his mom, was "a cool and crazy little event that features all kinds of native game: squirrel, possum, bear meat, deer and the like, cooked up in chili, stews, fillets. Also there were crafts and arts tents all over town. And everyone we met seemed so happy we were there."

After our last set at 4 p.m., we broke down the system, tucked the gear into Joe's car (he had more room than the rest of us) and headed out to the weekend’s next adventure.

Leslee McCarty’s Place

As part of the Marlinton deal, Pamela arranged for the fair planners to get us rooms for the night. "They put us up at a wonderful 100-year-old farmhouse bed and breakfast called 'Current' out in the hills near Hillsboro,” Charlie noted in his email, about a 10-minute drive from Marlinton.

Leslee McCarty, our hostess, actually was an old friend of Susie and Dave Peyton's from their shared Barboursville high school days, and she had been running this Appalachian Trail B&B for nine years. The place was a marvel, huge and full of antiques and old pictures and big, comfortable chairs.

Leslee had rooms for all of us. We settled in, freshened up, and then, in an hour or so, went back down the hill to Richwood to a place called The Country Cafe for one of the best dinners we ever had on the road. Then we headed back to play a little evening jam session for Leslee and her other overnights guests in the farmhouse parlor.

Besides the farmhouse, Charlie added, "Leslee and her family also owns a lovely little 80-year-old church on the adjacent lot, so the next morning after breakfast, we took instruments up the hill and sat in the church playing and singing some old hymns. The acoustics were astounding, and it was one of the sweeter memories of the day!”

For the second part of the weekend travels, we had to drive just 20 minutes up the road -- and all uphill -- to Cranberry Glades for another bash at the shindig.

"We saw so many folks from the previous years who came, grabbed seats in the front and stayed the whole time," Charlie wrote. "We put on our best show of the weekend right there.”