05/17/2026
I’m a big fan of the idea of a trip being about the journey more so than the destination (or rather I like to think of them as equals), so to make up for the direct route I drove to Charleston, I opted for a winding route home that carried me through parts of Roan and Wirt counties that I had never traveled before. The blue squirrely line that appeared on Google Maps when I input my detours filled me with anticipation, and driving the route left me with excitement to match. Visiting two particular abandoned churches was my main objective for the drive, but I nonetheless found myself hitting the brakes or turning right around to photograph a few scenic barns situated along the road. West Virginia, by and large, is not an agricultural state, at least not in the commercial sense. Subsistence agriculture has long been part of the Appalachian culture here, but, owing to the rugged topography, land suitable for large-scale farming is seldom found.
Small gambrel-roofed barns and unpainted corn cribs characterized the narrower valleys where agriculture was historically performed only on a minor scale. Nearly to Parkersburg, however, SR-14 entered the wide valley of the Little Kanawha River, and around a bend a barn of comparatively massive proportions came into sight. A gambrel roof, dormers, hay hood, vents, and a whole row of ground floor windows, all complete with white trim! It was the quintessential dairy barn, and one can only imagine the operation that once existed here, supplying dairy products to local communities.
Later in the drive, I found myself cruising through a much tighter valley. The remnant pastures, once stocked with cattle, were filled with knee-high grass certainly slated for hay making later in the year. Just before the road entered a steep grade, I noticed a small corn crib off to my right. Weathered with missing siding and a beaten metal roof, the corn crib showed its age. Behind stood, only barely, a larger barn with one corner nearly meeting the ground. A neighbor directed me to the owner’s house, but my knocks went unanswered, and I settled for a few photos from the road. I suppose it felt better than a rejection!
