Not the Day I Planned

We spend the first twelve months of our children's lives teaching them to walk and talk and the next twelve telling them to sit down and shut up.

-Phyllis Diller

Today was probably my first bummer-of-a-day on this trip.   I still had some adventures and will bring home some good memories of the day, but things just didn’t go as I hoped they would.  Out of it all, though, I think I found a mini-me.  I'll tell you about him a little later though.

This morning I had scheduled to go on a tour of the Homeland Creamery in Julian, NC.  What originally made this tour seem fun was that the description said that a) they let you milk a cow (something I’ve never done) and b) you get to sample their ice cream at the end of the tour (that was the main attraction right there).    Also I thought it would be interesting to see how milk was processed.  Since I grew up in a city, the only way I knew of getting milk was either by going to the refrigerator or to the grocery store. Beyond that, it was kind of a mystery.  I mean, sure, I know it comes from cows and all, but the whole process seemed like it would be fun to witness.  Plus, I’d get ice cream at the end. 

The baby cows get their own little doghouses.

So this morning I got up, got my van all packed up and headed to the dairy.  I got there about 15 minutes early hoping that maybe they’d offer me some ice cream before the tour  as a kind of prize for being the first one there.  I drove up to the dairy and saw that I was indeed the first person there.  As I walked into the little shop (which did have several containers of ice cream), the only other person there was the lady behind the counter.  She smiled and greeted me and asked how she could help me.   I told her I was there for the tour, and she frowned slightly and said she didn’t know of one today.  I told her that I was just a few minutes early (as I eyed the ice cream), and that when I booked it a lady named Paige said there were about 40 people signed up for it.   The lady behind the counter said she’d call Paige to find out about it.  She turned around, picked up a phone and dialed a number. 

“Hi, Paige.  There is a gentleman here who says he’s here for the tour today,” I heard her say into the phone.  Then there was a moment of silence.  She nodded her head and glanced at me.  “Oh, ok.  One second,” she put her hand over the microphone and turned to me.  “Did you get Paige’s e-mail this morning?” she asked.

“No, I didn’t,” I replied, and understood where this was going. 

The lady turned away from me and spoke back into the phone, “He says he didn’t get it.  Uh-huh.  Yah, it is pretty cold out this morning.  Uh-huh.  Uh-huh.  Ok.”  She hung up and turned to me.  “Apparently the large group cancelled this morning because of the rain and Paige says she sent you an e-mail. She’ll be here in a minute to talk to you.”

How cute.  Fatten him up a bit
and he'd make a tasty
parmigiana...

“Umm…ok.”  I replied, still staring at the ice cream.  I was hoping she’d pick up on the fact that I should at least get a consolation gift of a free scoop since I drove out there.  She was like a stone wall to my silent suggestions, though.  After a few minutes, a young, thin lady walked into the shop. 

“Hi, Mitch? I’m sorry you didn’t get my e-mail this morning.  We had to cancel because of the rain, but I have a few minutes I can show you around a little bit if you like.”  I could see she was genuinely apologetic.  She showed me briefly around the farm and told me about its history.  I got to see the veal baby cows that had just been born a few days prior, the milking room, and some large tanks where Paige said the milk was being pasteurized in an old-fashioned method.  I thanked her for her time, and she again apologized and suggested I try some of the ice cream before she went back into her office.  I went back to the little shop, but the lady there apparently didn’t pick up on the ice cream bit.  It did look good though, so I ended up buying a couple of pints to take along with me:  double dark chocolate and cake batter flavors. 

At that point, I had the entire day open up.  My original plans were to spend a few hours on the tour of the dairy and then head to West Virginia.  I was going to spend tonight in Beckley, West Virginia and then go to an exhibition coal mine.  The description online said that they gave a train ride and tour of a real coal mine (although not one that was currently used any more) and that they had a museum of coal mining history.  After the non-dairy tour, I figured I had enough time to make the 3 ½-hour drive to Beckley and do the tour this afternoon.

The coal mine also turned out to be less than expected.   It was entertaining, though, but not for the coal mine aspects of it.   I arrived in Beckley shortly after 1:00pm and was able to make a tour that started at 1:30.  I paid for my ticket and was directed behind the ticket office to where a small train had about 15 people on it. 

That's Melvin.  He's showing us
where the back of the train is.

An elderly gentleman wearing a blue-collared shirt, blue pants, and a hardhat with a flashlight on top directed me to a seat on the train.  His then got the tour started.  He began by standing at the edge of the train, just looking at everyone.  He stood almost statue-like for about a minute.  It looked like he had forgotten what he wanted to say.  Everyone on the train just looked at him in silence, waiting for him to say something.  There was a small boy sitting behind me who was perhaps 6 years old. He had buzz-cut red hair and freckles on his nose.  For some reason he looked...a little bit familiar, I couldn't quite place it.  After what was too many moments of silence, he piped up quite loudly and said “Ain’t this train ever gonna move?”   This kid was fantastic!  I heard his mother hiss, “Brandon! Be quiet!”  but he ignored her scolding. 

The tour guide stood for about 3 more seconds and then spoke.  “Hullo.  My.  Name.  Is.  Marvin.  An’.  Today.  (another long pause)  We’re.  Goin’.  To.  See.  A.  Coal.  Mine.”   He spoke very slowly.  In what seemed like 20 minutes, he told us to stay seated and keep our hands inside the cart.  He then slowly shuffled up to the front of the train, carefully climbed in, and after a few moments the train began to move.  Slowly.

“Finally!”  squeaked Brandon, again generating hisses from his mother.   I definitely saw some familiarity in Brandon.

The train crept into a tunnel and after perhaps fifty feet it came to a stop.  Marvin got out of the front (slowly) and shuffled until he was standing in about the middle of the three-car train.  He took his hat off and directed the beam of light from the flashlight on top to a rim of black coal that was near the floor of the tunnel.  He told us that that was actual coal and he explained how the miners would pick it out with axes.  He again spoke and moved as if he wasn’t really sure of himself, or like he was in a trance.  At the end, he stood, silently, perhaps waiting for people to ask questions.

“Is this real?” Brandon asked.  Marvin either didn’t hear him or was doing a very good job of ignoring him. 

Marvin then walked back to the front of the train and after a few minutes it began to move slowly forward to the next stop.  After perhaps another 100 feet or so, Marvin again got out, lumbered to his position in front of everyone at the middle of the train and stood for a moment.  He then turned around to a table that was behind him and he pulled out a little lamp.  He showed us how the miners would add a few drops of water to some calcium carbonate in little torches to make light in the tunnels.  After he lit the little torch, he turned all the lights in the tunnel off and held the torch up.  Apparently he wanted everyone to see just how little light they produced, giving an idea of the sort of conditions the coal miners worked in. He didn’t say anything though, he just held the dim little torch up and waved it around for a few moments.

That's Brandon.  He's going to be a great kid!

“Can you turn the lights back on now so we can get moving?” I heard Brandon say behind me, again to the delight of everyone on the train but to the horror of his mother.

The tour progressed like that for about 30 minutes:  Marvin moving methodically and completely ignoring Brandon’s comments.  I thought Brandon made the whole tour worthwhile though.  I even told his mother so at the end, but I’m not sure that she believed me.  She apologized and said she hoped that he didn’t bother me.  I replied “The only thing that bothered me was that I’m usually the one making all the obnoxious comments, and he stole my thunder today!”  

So by the end of the tour it was only a little after 2:00pm and I’d done the things I had planned to last through tomorrow.    That kind of put me a day ahead of schedule, so I went back to my van and did some Googling to find something else to do.  I found a zip line park in Hocking Hills State Park, Ohio:  only another 3 ½ hours away.  So now I’m in a little campground just outside of Hocking Hills State Park and I have a reservation for zip lining tomorrow morning.  Hopefully that will turn out to be a little more exciting than the dairy tour and the coal mine tour.  But even if it doesn’t, it will still give me some unique memories to bring home and perhaps a story to tell.

So I thought this was funny.  It was in a grocery store in West Virginia.
Apparently they have an express lane for people who are good at counting,
and one for people who are a little slower with numbers...