Jody Spencer shows his young son, Conner, the wonders of the Highland Scenic Highway. Photos by Stephen Shaluta

Looking east from atop Warm Springs Mountain, you understand how the mountains of the Blue Ridge got their name. Native Americans called them "The Endless Mountains." Photos by Stephen Shaluta

Brownies swimming hole on the Wilson property at Knapps Creek in Marlinton. Max, a local dog, wonders where have all the swimmers gone. He had just finished a dip when the photo was taken. Photo by Drew Tanner

Take me back to

The Old Swimming Hole

Jaynelle Graham-Awad
Contributing Writer
      Nothing can bring back memories as quickly as talking about friends and special places‹places like creeks and rivers that were a part of our childhood and a pleasant place to return to as we get older. Though time, floods and man have changed the courses and depths of some streams, and the flow of our lives has channeled in other directions, the memories of those days spent with friends in favorite swimming holes have not diminished.

The Alec Hole, still popular today, looks deceptively inviting on Rt. 39 near Minnehaha Springs. It has claimed the lives of at least two swimmers. Photo by Jaynelle Graham-Awad

      One of the most well-known places is the Alec Hole (commonly pronounced Elic), located along Rt. 39 near Minnehaha Springs. This swimming hole has easy public access, but it is not for amateur swimmers. Butch Yeager, son of long-time Marlinton High School Principal, H. A. Yeager, referred to it as "deceptive and difficult." The waters are tricky, because of the near 20 foot depth and undercurrents.

The Water Plant on Knapps Crrek in Marlinton Photo by Drew tanner

      "It would take a "manly man" to get to the bottom of this hole, and every few feet gets colder and colder." Because of the depth and the pressure, you could be assured of water in your ears when you left there. Young people were not allowed to go to the Alec Hole alone, nor should they be. Two people have drowned there and the unanimous feeling is "this swimming hole deserves respect."
      Walking through the cool shade of bending trees, stepping over downed limbs near the remnants of a campfire, you can feel yourself being drawn into this unique atmosphere. As I stepped through to the edge of the waters of Knapps Creek at the Alec Hole, I found it to be a most intimidating but awesome place. Arlie White, who recently celebrated his 90th birthday, rode his bike or walked three miles in his younger days, to swim at this hole or the Kramer Hole located on Rt. 39 between Marlinton and Huntersville.

Generation after generation has been drawn to the waters of Pocahontas County. This unidentified group, circa late 1800s or early 1900s enjoys an afternoon along Knapps Creek. Photo courtesy Roy Shearer collection

      The Kramer Hole, which was eight-to-10 feet deep, was, for many years, a very popular gathering place. In the 1960s, some still walked or rode their bikes, but Sunday afternoons would also find the field parked with cars and the beach area full of young people. As the song says, "wouldn't it be nice to have nothing else to do?" As you pass there today, the road is blocked and the field has grown up, a testimony to another lost pleasure.
      Other noted spots in this area of Knapps Creek were Devil's Backbone, about six feet deep, and the Indian Hole, which was located between the Kramer Hole and the Wade property at "corporation turn." It was a good place for wading, but not for diving!
      David Peacock, who operates J & P Furniture and is Marlinton's present fire chief, is familiar with most swimming holes in and around Marlinton. He was a frequent swimmer at the pier of the railroad bridge that crossed the Greenbrier River at the mouth of Stony Creek.

The Campbell Lumber Company bridge at the mouth of Stony Creek over the Greenbrier River for its rail line connecting its mill with the C&O Railroad. There was a six foot deep hole to the left of the center pier. Photo courtesy Keith Moore collection

      This was the swimming hole for the kids of Upper and Lower Tannery Row, Leather Alley and Greenbrier Hill. Over time, the cement eroded under the pier and Keith Moore, who was "born and raised" in Marlinton and retired from the State Tax Department's Coal Mapping division of Property Tax Maintenance, said, "you were considered a man if you could swim under the pier, through the re-bar and out the other side."
      In the 1960s, the path of Stony Creek was intentionally changed to enter the River below the pier. This caused debris to gather around the pier and thus, the swimming hole is gone.

Swago Creek, along Rt. 219 in Buckeye, is quiet today, which belies the flurry of activity of years past. Photo by Jaynelle Graham-Awad

      If you lived in the upper end of town, Court Street or Hamilton Hill, then you probably swam at Brownies in Knapps Creek. Access to this swimming hole is through private property, now owned by the heirs of the Wilma Wilson Estate. Brownies was known for the Peanut Rock, from which you could dive, and the Chocolate Rock, dark and smooth, about a foot under the surface and a good place to rest. Butch Yeager and his friends, Danny Cooper, Doug Jett and others, spent many hours at Brownies.
      Although the swimming hole was open to everyone, Butch remembers the "sacred area." Alice Moore would bring a group of girls to Brownies and there was an area about 50 yards from the swimming hole that the girls used as a dressing room. The boys were not allowed, nor did they attempt to go there, for they knew Mrs. Moore quite well and they could only imagine the consequences!
      The Yellowstone Rock, in the same neighborhood, is located below the intake.
      The intake, by a diversion of the waters of Knapps Creek, supplies water for the town of Marlinton. To get to Yellowstone Rock, you had to make your way along the wall and Wilson's cliff. Adults did not travel it and children shouldn't have, either. But their reward was a stream bed, clear of small rocks, with water about chest high, a perfect place for a getaway.
      Swimming and imaginations go together, and so it was that Butch and his friends found it necessary to carry their BB guns to ward off tigers, lions and a host of enemies as they made their way through the woods to Knapps Creek.
      The dam, in Marlinton, was also a great place for a swim, with the addition of a shaded, grassy area for parents and chaperones to sit, visit and observe the children. The trees are gone now, but the mind's eye can still see the folks gathered there.
      Swimming was fun and so much more for young people in the rural areas of the county or for those who were looking for a few extra bucks in the summer. It seems that nothing made them seek out a swimming hole more than a day in the hayfield. The joy of the last bale in the barn could only be surpassed by the pleasure of diving into a cool stream. In this day of "ease" in making hay, there seems to be less of an urge to seek relief from the heat, sweat and itchiness of those "hands on" days of the hay shock and the square bale. Swimming, after a day of making hay, was a treatŠ maybe a necessity.
      The appearance of the round baler may have helped to diminish the appeal of the swimming hole!
      Richard Arbogast, who in his younger days lived in Boyer and now lives at Edray, knows what a day in the hay is like and when the work was done, he and the haymakers of the upper end of the county swam in Deer Creek on the properties of Jim Nottingham and Howard Heavner. There was also a 10-to-12 foot deep swimming hole on Neil Heavner's property, complete with diving board, and it was there that Richard learned to swim.
      When Kenneth Kelley, of Frost, was in need of a swim in the evenings after making hay or on Sunday afternoons, he and his friends could be found at the Gibson Hole on Knapps Creek, now owned by Mountain Quest Institute, or the Burr Hole on his own property. This swimming hole was thought to be bottomless years ago, but due to changes in the stream, mostly from floods, it has since started to fill in. The Grady Moore hole was located on Rt. 92, two miles south of Frost, near Doug Grimes' barn. This swimming hole lives in memory only, as the creek has changed and the swimming hole no longer exists.
      Swimming after a day in the hay field is great when you are young, but Kenneth Kelley will tell you that he continued the practice until just a few years ago.
      For Roger Sharp, son of Boots Sharp, who lived at Fairview, the water that called him and his friends from the hayfield was in the Greenbrier River at the Bert Waugh Place below the tunnel. It was simply called "the deep hole."
      Meanwhile, in Hillsboro, the Hill boys, Tom, Phil, John and Paul, would head for a swimming hole at the mouth of Stamping Creek or at the low water bridge at Seebert.

Looking south from the Blue Bridge at Buckeye, youΉll see the Walnut Hole, which is now a favorite fishing spot Photo by Jaynelle Graham-Awad

      Every town or neighborhood had its favorites, and on hot afternoons, the young people of Buckeye could be found at the Walnut Hole, below the blue bridge, or the Deep Hole above the bridge. And for the very young, there was no place like Swago Creek, with its smooth bottom for wading and large rocks on either side that became whales, stores, houses, doctor's office or any other establishment needed for an imaginary town. This kept the kids of the community entertained for several hours on those hot, summer days.
      In most streams, no adult supervision was needed. The only dangers were imaginary, created for our own entertainment and to be shared with friends for a life time.
      How far did you walk and what paths did you take to the "old swimming hole?"
      What would you give to go back there once more?

The striking honeycomb pattern is produced by the process of differing rates of weathering. Rainwater slowly dissolves out the softer sandstone, leaving behind the distinctive pattern of hematite boxwork. Photos by Drew Tanner

Off the beaten path

Honeycomb Rocks attract the curious, adventurous

More examples of quartz boxwork hematite.

A forest inhabitant checks out one of the unusual boulders. Photos by Drew Tanner

This is a fully developed honeycomb rock. Nearly all of the weakly cemented sandstone is weathered out. The final step is for the individual compartments to break out and recycle its portion of minerals back to the earth and eventually form another sedimentary rock. Photo by Drew Tanner

These Honeycomb Rocks are a world-class example of a quartz boxwork hematite deposit. Hematite (Fe2O3) is a common oxide of iron. When water is acidic enough or hot enough, iron and other minerals can be dissolved in the water solution. Photo by Drew Tanner

When this solution comes in contact with lower temperatures, reduced pressures and non-acidic conditions, the iron and other minerals begin to solidify, or precipitate, out of the water solution. In this case, the hematite replaced the original kaolinite cement in the Sharon Sandstone. This formed a much harder and denser hematite cemented sandstone. Photo by Drew Tanner