Road of Gold

Organic gold leaf shimmers in the breeze and scatters across my path - a natural signpost to a new seasonal direction. I drive south, the sun in my face, for hour after hour, on a black ribbon through the golden heart of Virginia.

Virginia is shaped like a flying bird. Yesterday I drove 450 or so miles from Washington DC, through the stunning Appalachians, south-west to where the bird's eye would be. The I-81 highway is the main artery in this part of the world, but scratch beneath the tarmac and you'll glimpse the soul of a nation born in forest and forged in war. Forest hems in roads and farms, defining their geography, while every road sign seems to indicate another Civil War battlefield, or memorial to veterans.

I am in Wise, Virginia, heading into Kentucky this morning (still dark) to meet up with the people behind the Appalachian Regional Reforestation Initiative. This is a major initiative to restore native hardwood forests on enormous coal mine sites (more of which later).

Despite initial trepidation the drive has been straight-forward, until the last couple of miles that is, when I take a slight detour: as dusk descends the road narrows, traffic thins, trees grow more intimidating and roadside shacks become more unkempt. Dirt tracks lead off into the woods - strangely inviting, yet tempting Deliverance.

Haven't heard any banjos yet! I'll keep you posted.