My valley - South Branch Valley, West Virginia

American Forests, Sept-Oct, 1994 by Robert R. Bowers

But on November 5, 1985, my valley was changed almost irrevocably. Fueled by a 10-inch rain far up the hollows, the flood came with little warning. Confined i narrow valleys, the waters raged with such force that they twisted rails and scoured farmland until mostly rocks remained. Forty-seven people died along wit thousands of animals. More than 1,500 homes and 181 businesses were gone, and 4 bridges were destroyed in 29 counties.

The 1985 torrent broke all records and left its mark indelibly imprinted on the South Branch Valley.

High waters swept the streams clean of shade-giving trees, filled pools with silt, and eliminated channels where trout lurked in hot weather. Destruction wa so complete on the North Fork that trout stocking was stopped and fishermen ignored this once-lovely river. The state's Division of Natural Resources, U.S. Forest Service, and U.S. Soil Conservation Service struggled to breathe new lif into the streams. Channels were deepened, boulders placed in pools for trout cover, trees planted for shade, and many miles of farmland riverbanks planted t prevent further erosion. Gradually the rivers have begun to show evidence that they are coming back.

However, my concerns for my valley today are deep and many. Though wounds from the floods gradually heal, another type of wound may not. In the name of jobs, four-lane highway, Corridor H, is under plan to cut a 2,000-foot-wide swath for 109 miles from Elkins, West Virginia, to Strasburg, Virginia--gouging the rugge mountains, filling the narrow ravines, silting in the pristine river and valley

People turned out in great numbers for public meetings held from late 1992 to early '94--some to approve, others to plead that the road wasn't needed. Already, opponents pointed out, I-68 runs east and west 40 miles to the north and I-64 runs east and west 50 miles south of Corridor H. But the meetings and the visits to Washington really didn't matter. The die was cast before the firs meeting was held. The $800 million highway had congressional and statehouse support, and nothing was going to stop it.

Why must people strive for more scenic highways and developmental roads? To quote Aldo Leopold: "To build a road is so much simpler than to think of what the country really needs."

The futility of opposing the road soon became obvious, so the pragmatic defenders of the headwaters of the Potomac and the South Branch Valley urged a rerouting away from Seneca Rocks, North Mountain, Cabins, and Petersburg. This would prevent the bulldozers from scraping the thin shales from the steep slope to fill the narrow ravines, which would destroy landmarks and sensitive areas, disrupt springs, fill wells, cover rare plants, and silt in the North Fork. The rerouting, they argued, would spare the character of this unique land and preserve its wildness.

Surprisingly, somebody in a position of influence heard these cries, and the highway recently has been rerouted--even though six miles of four-lane had already been built east of Elkins. Probably beginning in 1994, construction wil begin again. But now the road will go north and east from Elkins, bypassing North Mountain, Seneca Rocks, North Fork of the South Branch of the Potomac, Cabins, and Petersburg, and will not touch my valley until it reaches Moorefield.