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From Cheat Lake, we drive 4 miles uphill to Coopers Rock State Park and Forest, 13 miles east of Morgantown on I-68. Passing trucks chugging along in the slow lane, we relate the wildlife encounters we’ve had in this forest. My least favorite involved a rattlesnake, which gathered a crowd near the overlook. I’m brave today in hiking boots, but don’t intend to camp here, although there is a campground.

Near the top of the mountain, our ears finally "pop," and then the 3-mile drive from the gate to the overlook requires me to doff sunglasses in order to see well enough to drive. The slender thread of road is in dense shade, and the forest is dark and wet everywhere but near stone outcroppings. Only an occasional sunlight fairy dances on the wet ground, still covered with the leaves of last autumn. In a rare sunbeam, I catch a bushy black behind as it disappears behind a fallen trunk. I’m not sure what it is. A bear? Whatever it is, I see it in the distance again next day crossing the road near Masontown before it simply drops into sunken woods along Deckers Creek.

Near the rustic concession and picnic area, pavillions with stone fireplaces are already occupied, and the aroma of wood smoke fills the park.

These chestnut-and-stone structures were built by the Civilian Conservation Corps (1936-1942) before the chestnut blight, and eleven shelters are on the National Register of Historic Places. I remember when my lit class--the one with the hippie teacher whose reading list included only anti-establishment novels--met here one evening in the 1970’s. Nothing is different. Even clumps of laurel look the same, but we're too early for blooms. That’s unfortunate, for this moss-covered-stone fairyland of mountain laurel is a photographer’s dream.

Photo opps aren’t lacking, I assure myself, as I head for the overlook. I remember that when I look through the viewers, I can see WVU Coliseum, 13 or so miles away! First, the wheelchair overlook isn’t too intimidating.

I get comfortable here before I attempt the big rock, which didn’t used to scare me at all. People change! I’m uneasy there now, especially in wet weather, when it may be slippery.

Looking out over Cheat River Gorge, I see some rippling whitewater, miniscule compared to other sections of this wild river that rafters enjoy. The main attractions here are panorama and laurel forest.

The forest hides some history. Across from the camping area entrance, a trail leads to Henry Clay Iron Furnace. Nobody knows where the name originated, since Henry Clay was a Kentucky politician who worked hard to keep the National Road well north of here. It makes no sense that an owner would name his business after the man whose politics destroyed it. One hundred houses were once nearby, but the forest has obliterated all trace of them, just as Ice’s Ferry was flooded to create Cheat Lake. History here fades, but forests abide.

From journals Every Which Way from Morgantown