Obstacles: Over or through?

THE PAW PAW TUNNEL 

Ever since I moved to W.Va. over 12 years ago, I've intended to go to Paw Paw, partly because of the sound of its name (the paw paw being both a tree and a fruit that tastes like a combination of an overripe banana and mango, mixed together) and partly because of the famous Paw Paw Tunnel, a 3,118-ft. long section  along the C&O Canal, which runs 184.5 miles from the headwaters of the Potomac River in Cumberland, Md., to Washington, D.C. In the 1800's, it was a major transportation highway to the Ohio Valley, and the canal boats, pulled along by mules, carried coal and other goods over the mountains to the population in the East who were hungry for the coal, lumber, grain and other cargo the boats carried.
     Unfortunately for the canal company, the B&O Railroad raced it to completion, and faster freight trains soon replaced the canal boats, leaving the canal company broke. Fortunately for us today, the C&O Canal is a National Historical Park that provides biking, hiking and other recreation opportunities, as well as an area rich in history, the full length of the Potomac River.

     In building the canal, 74 locks and 11 aqueducts were constructed, mostly by immigrant laborers from Ireland and Germany. But no section of the trail was more daunting than the Paw Paw Bends, a mountainous area along the river where the engineers had to design a tunnel through Sorrel Mountain -- a tunnel that took 14 years to complete by immigrant laborers, mostly from Germany and Ireland (those Irish later calling themselves "Scotch-Irish" to distinguish themselves from later waves of Irish Catholic immigrants) who lived in tents along Sorrel Ridge where they were given a daily allotment of whiskey, the promise of wages that sometimes took months to come, if they came at all, and where there were cholera outbreaks and other dreadful conditions. Violence often broke out among the gangs of immigrant laborers and some defected to work on the competing B&O railroad. When it was finally finished, the cost overrun was 500 percent.
     While it's surpassed today by many tunnels, the Paw Paw Tunnel remains one of the world's longest canal tunnels and one of the greatest engineering feats of its day. It's lined with over six million bricks and was only wide enough for a single lane of traffic to go through.

     Yesterday, while driving home from a delightful day-and-a-half visit to Cumberland, Md., known as the "Queen City" because it was the queen of the Allegheny (or Allegany) Mountains, Bob and I decided to take the backroads home and hike through the Paw Paw Tunnel. What we thought would be an easy hike through the tunnel turned out to be a cross between the scaling of our own Mt. Everest and a taste of "Deliverance." 
    Okay, the tunnel in the photo above doesn't look that threatening, especially not on a bright and sunny afternoon, does it? Only here's the thing: We ignored the sign that suggested flashlights, because there's always a light at each end of the tunnel, a footpath and hand railing, right? Let's look again at the photos, okay?

INSIDE THE TUNNEL

W. END OF TUNNEL

OOPS!

     We knew that darkness would come early in the mountains, but we allowed over an hour to hike through and back. What we didn't know until we approached the east entrance was that the park service had boarded up each end of the tunnel, except for a small opening to the footpath, making it almost black once we were about 50 feet inside. And we had noticed a sign that read "Paw Paw Tunnel Trail" that indicated a path over the tunnel, so we knew we could hike that way back if necessary. 

     Groping our way along, we wondered about turning back, but what kind of story would that make? Oh, yes, we hiked the tunnel, but we were wimps and became afraid of the darkness and seeping water and bats inside? So we pressed on, seeing approaching flashlights about two-thirds of the way through. Coming close to the other, well-equipped hikers, we discovered two girls who were using their cell phones for flashlights, so we took ours out, too, and made it through to the other end.

     But now we had to decide whether to trust the phone batteries to hold out long enough to get back through the tunnel, and we opted instead for the tunnel trail over the tunnel -- or so we thought. Instead, nearly a mile west of the end, we found the trail sign, warning of a "two-mile strenuous hike" back. With the sun sinking fast, we started the trail, and it was strenuous all right -- steep, rocky and leaf-covered, up we went, up, up, up -- until I realized it wasn't the top of the tunnel we were climbing toward but the top of the mountain itself. There was no turning back. And this is where the thoughts of "Deliverance" began to flood my mind. If that was two miles, I never want to see three. We finally crested Sorrel Ridge and began a steep descent in the  fading light, realizing that there was nobody within miles who could hear or see us, that there were bears in the woods and the trail was poorly marked and slippery. Time was not on our side, though the nearly full moon was. I started to sing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall," partly to keep the bears away and partly to pass the time, until I realized that singing hymns was more appropriate to the situation. Bob forged ahead, undaunted, assuring me that the car couldn't be that far away, eternal optimist that he is (and Eagle Scout once upon a time).

     Dense twilight descended as we reached the bottom, with another .7 miles to go to the parking lot, the lights of the town of Paw Paw twinkling in the distance, assuring us that we were closing in on civilization. Nearly two hours after embarking on our tunnel walk, we made it back, right past the sign that said "Use flashlights in the tunnel." If I'd had the energy and a marker, I would have added, "And if you're too dumb to have brought a flashlight, remember that your cell phone won't work in the tunnel, but it can be used as a flashlight, if necessary." 

     Lesson learned: There's a really good reason why those engineers and laborers spent 14 years blasting through the mountain instead of going over it. It was the moment of the "Big Duh." Now I know why those immigrant laborers were allotted whiskey at the end of each day. The best we could do was a jug of apple cider in the van.