The rock wall seemed impossibly thin.
It jutted up from the West Virginia countryside like a sharp knife hundreds of feet high.
I craned my neck around until I found the next iron rung and reached around the edge, hanging with my left hand on one side of the wall, my right on the other and my feet perched on the narrow corner.
I was so focused on the task that I almost missed the view. As I looked to my right I was awestruck by the incredible scenery. Across a chasm lie another wafer-thin rock wall erupting from and towering above the earth. Lush rolling green hills and forests stretched out to the horizon. Hawks soared along the top of the opposite rock wall. I yelled back to my friend Ellis, who was climbing behind me, “You’re going to love this!”
Ellis tried rock climbing with me several years ago at Carderock, MD. She thought the entire process was way too slow with all of the rope set-up time, the knots, taking turns and the slow learning curve before trying anything difficult. She also didn’t like the tight climbing shoes and the short 50’ climbs with no view. She wanted to climb something tall and steep and not waste any time.
So I found just the challenge for Ellis - Via Ferrata at Nelson Rocks Preserve in West Virginia.
Via Ferrata is Italian for Iron Way. Iron rungs and steel cables are secured to mountainous rock faces to allow non-climbers to ascend difficult terrain. Via Ferratas have been used in the Alps for over a century and were instrumental for troops moving through the Alps during both world wars. Since then these Iron Ways have been used by tourists throughout Europe to experience the thrill of rock-climbing without the necessary skills. The Via at Nelson Rocks was built in 2002 and is one of only six in the United States. In Europe, there are hundreds of Via Ferratas.
To climb an iron way, a person wears a climbing harness with waist and leg straps. A Y-shaped lanyard is attached to the harness at the bottom of the Y and a caribiner is affixed to each of the two top ends of the lanyard. The climber connects both carabiners to a steel cable that runs along the route. At each juncture where the cable is bolted to the rock, a person simply unclips the first carabiner and then re-clips it on the other side of the bolt and then does the same with the second caribiner. The carabiners slide over the cable. The bolts are placed about every six to eight feet along the route. In case of an accident, the climber will be caught where the cable is attached at the bolt. The lanyard has built in shock absorbers to cushion any fall, but the rungs are so well placed at Nelson Rocks that one would pretty much have to intentionally let go with both hands to fall.
The first section took us straight up about 80 feet. At our orientation the owner, Stu Hammett, had told us to always look ahead to be ready to unclip and re-clip around the bolts and to drape the lanyard over one arm so the caribiners wouldn’t be dangling down by our feet. Ellis climbed straight up the rungs like a ladder but kept missing the bolts. I’d hear “drat” only to look back and see Ellis backtracking because she forgot to clip through around the bolts. At the top of the first section, we reached a T junction; to the left was an escape route for anyone who might have had enough. The right forking route took us up to the corner that led from the one face of the Tuscarora sandstone fin to the other. As Ellis came around the edge, she exclaimed “Wow, this part alone is worth the three-hour drive.”
Every few feet up the next section somehow presented a different and spectacular view of the countryside. After an hour we arrived at one of the more impressive engineering feats of Via Ferrata - a 230-foot long, 150-foot high swinging rope bridge. The bridge looks like something out of an Indiana Jones movie. Three-inch wide boards are placed at about 15 to 18 inches apart. I clipped my caribiners to an overhead cable and gingerly tread across the gorge. Two additional cables act as handrails. The bridge would wobble back and forth slightly with each step. Stu had told us to cross it one at a time to keep it from swinging too much. At first I was watching every step, but this became disconcerting because it looked like I was walking on air. Once I focused on the other side I relaxed. The boards were located at a perfect striding distance and there was no need to look down. For anyone who might be unable to make the crossing, another escape route branches off at the entrance to the bridge. Towards the end of the bridge the overhead cable began to tug the lanyard making it my harness uncomfortable. The cable was higher on this end in relation to the bridge. I re-crossed back to join Ellis and help adjust her lanyard to be longer. With Ellis being shorter, she might have been lifted off her feet by the overhead cable. I walked back over the bridge at a faster pace this time and enjoyed the swaying and wobbling.
Ellis ambled across the bridge and we climbed another vertical section that led around a c.jpg)
orner to the backside of the second fin. We followed a long sequence of horizontal traverses and ladders to an optional climb called the headwall. Two side-by-side series of rungs went straight, straight up over a hundred feet. The left was the up ladder and the right returned down. About halfway up I started to sweat. As a climber, I moved slowly and deliberately testing each hold, even though I know the rungs were rated to hold over 9,000 lbs. Ellis, however, went straight up like a monkey, although I did hear her yell “drat” a couple of times. The cable formed a loop at the top. Ellis and I stood together on a cliff only a few feet wide. The sheer wall dropped down hundreds of feet on either side. This was not the place for anyone with vertigo. But it was amazing. We were on top of the world.
The climb down was a little trickier. The rugs didn’t go straight down so I had to carefully look before lowering each leg. The final section followed a wide corridor along the wall with a few small climbs. The Via finished at a trail between the two fins. The path led to a scenic overlook of the adjacent valley. Another pathway led to the true summit of Nelson Rocks. We hiked up the hill and scrambled to the summit. Though not as intimidating as the top of the headwall, this higher peak offered a panoramic view of the Allegheny Mountains, the Monongahela Valley and the North Fork Mountain Ridge. I can’t recall ever seeing so many fantastic views in one day. As we hiked down a back trail to the parking area, Ellis mentioned about a dozen people that she wanted to bring here. I had found the right climb for Ellis.