West Virginia was our next stop because that is exactly where my father now lives, and I have never visited him there. What we didn't account for was the fact that my dad lives on top of a mountain and there are minimal farmers who would choose to farm in such inhospitable terrain. So we took a semi-unscheduled break filled with outdoor theater and no-mercy croquet matches and picnics and breadmaking and Trav made a few feasts that will go down in the feastmaking hall of fame. He taught my stepmother Linda how to poach an egg the correct way, and as of yesterday she was still preaching the poached egg gospel (Trav uses a metal spoon and dips the egg into a shallow pan of water).
We went on sweet hikes starting right at the back door of the house; I learned that my stereotypes of West Virginia were just ugly myths- the people were lovely, the food was great, and everyone I met still had all their teeth (except my dad, who is from Connecticut). So shame on me, I apologize, West Virginia, and I hope I am forgiven soon because I'd like to visit again.
One funny accent story was this: in the small town of Talcott we saw a long line of people waiting outside a thrift store. Trav asked a local who was standing in line, "what's going on?" He replied "Thar ge'en way domahtoes". We walked on and pondered that and mad-gabbed it until we came to the conclusion that they were giving away tomatoes.
We also met one Mr. Cool, who bears striking resemblance to Craig Spooner: