ACTION NEEDED! Just takes a minute. (Seriously.)

You just need to click the link and provide some info. You can add additional comments if you'd like. Please take a minute to comment-- http://www.saveblackwater.org/action_easternlongearedbat.html

 

Hard to find 'cute' bat pics. Sorry.

 

White-Nose Syndrome Pushing Bats to Extinction!

Of the six species of bats known to be impacted by this disease, the northern long-eared bat is among the hardest hit, dropping by a staggering 99 percent since symptoms of white-nose syndrome were first observed in 2006.  The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (FWS) is now considering protecting the northern long-eared bat under the Endangered Species Act, a needed action to begin to respond to this dramatic decline.

WNS has caused "the most precipitous wildlife decline in the past century in North America," according to biologists and has killed more than 5.7 million bats to date.  Thanks to all of you who have commented!  The FWS is accepting public comments on this proposal until December 3rd, please take action today.

Additional info:

http://www.biologicaldiversity.org/species/mammals/northern_long-eared_bat/index.html

http://www.saveblackwater.org/

Friends of the Cheat Benefit Dinner

Watershed = Foodshed Benefit Dinner Thursday, December 5th, 2013  6:00 pm 140 High Street, Morgantown, West Virginia hosted by Friends of the Cheat at Madeleine's

watershed Friends of the Cheat is a non-profit organization, committed to restoring and protecting water quality in the Cheat River watershed since 1994 through pollution-mitigation projects and education-based initiatives. Featuring food grown in the Preston County watershed by farmers depending on its healthy land & water = foodshed Madeleine's Restaurant, independently owned by the Mascari family, is located in Morgantown, WV, and committed to preparing locally-grown ingredients, a priority they continue during difficult economic times.

Funds will support the CAPABLE program, a citizen-scientist initiative equipping volunteers with monitoring tools and technical support to collect water quality data throughout the lower Cheat River watershed. Limited Capacity               $50 per ticket            Vegetarian option available Tickets available now by mail or at www.cheat.org/watershed-foodshed-benefit-dinner/ To order tickets by mail, please include the following information: Name__________________________________________________ Address_________________________________________________ # of Tickets _____________________ X $50 = __________________ Ticket amount enclosed (please specify number of vegetarian meals) If you would like to make an additional donation to the CAPABLE monitoring program: $25 ____ $50 ____$75 _____$100 ______ Other (please specify)______ Make checks payable to Friends of the Cheat and mail to: 119 S. Price Street, Suite #206 Kingwood, WV 26537 Questions? Lauren Greco, Friends of the Cheat (304)329-3621 Susan Sauter, CAPABLE volunteer (304)288-5366

Mountaintop Removal!

When Jimi Hendrix sang, Well, I stand up next to a mountain, and I chop it down with the edge of my hand... I'm pretty sure he was being metaphorical. 

Well, it ain't.

Classic valley fill. Explosives are used to pulverize the mountaintop down to the coal seams. The overburden is pushed into adjacent stream valleys. Fish species already adversely affected or threatened include the mottled sculpin, fantail darter, roseyside dace, longnose dace, brook trout, and the blacknose dace.

Threatened and endangered reptiles and amphibians include the green salamander, the Santeetlah dusky salamander, the Junaluska salamander, the Tennessee cave salamander, the Bog turtle, and the hellbender, North America's largest amphibian.

The EPA says the mine operators are legally responsible for restoring MTR sites after operations cease. Here's one example of a 'restored' mountain.

Also: Mountaintop Removal Linked to 60,000 Additional Cancer Cases

So I'm not asking for a lot here. Two things, really. Please check these guys out, look at the images and give the 'likes.' Please.

Appalachia Rising

Ramps Campaign

And maybe add this to your Netflix cue: THE LAST MOUNTAIN

These folks are fighting the fight peacefully. This is last year's march on Blair Mountain:

Between now and August 1, 2012, remember the Appalachians when you're Tweeting. Get the word out. Make people aware. That's all.

HELLBENDER Preorder!

Although the Collins clan is steeped in Appalachian magic, Henry has never paid it much attention. But when his younger sister dies mysteriously Henry can't shake the feeling that the decades-old feud between his family and another is to blame.

Strange things are happening at the edge of reality, deep in the forests and mountains of West Virginia. Let Jason Jack Miller take you to a place where love is forever even when death isn't, where magic doesn't have to be seen to be believed, where a song might be the only thing that saves your soul.

Jason Jack Miller's Murder Ballads and Whiskey series is a unique blend of dark fiction, urban fantasy and horror. It's Appalachian Gothic, Alt.Magical.Realism, Hillbilly Horror. It's American Gods meets Justified. True Blood with witches. It's Johnny Cash with a fistful of copperheads singing the devil right back to hell.

Order at Raw Dog Screaming Press!

CHEAT SEASON

"Some rivers just scare you," Johnny said. “There's one in West Virginia, the Cheat. I've run more difficult water, but there's something about the Cheat that I'm really afraid of. I can't explain it." (Kane 130)

It must be the water in my blood.

After a long winter, it warms and flows a little faster, remembering its ancient course over jagged sandstone ledges through wild mountain canyons. It manifests itself in my dreams first. A rush. A sensation of falling. Suffocating panic. And I haven't been on the Cheat River in fifteen years.

A wave at Decision Rapid flipping a fifteen foot raft end over end.

Upper Coliseum Rapid being altered by high water during the winter of 1993-1994.

A terrible swim at that very same rapid that I'll only tell you about if you buy me a drink.


A dozen waterfalls plunging down the canyon walls at High Falls Rapid after a heavy rain.

The undercut at Teardrop Rapid.

Big Nasty.

That the water in my blood remembers is no surprise. That I still dream of walking down the sandy path to the put-in... That I still dream of paddling like my life depended on it... That I dream of fighting to surface for air that's always too far away and wake up still holding my breath... That's how I know the river will be in my blood forever.

Kane, Joe. "ROARING THROUGH Earth's Deepest Canyon." National Geographic. Jan 1993: 130. Web. 12 Mar. 2012. .

THE DEVIL AND PEPPER JACK: Black Bear Burritos Edition!

Many thanks to Joe White and the gang at Black Bear Burritos for such an awesome week! (And special thanks to Amandarin Riviera for getting this ball rolling.) Yinz guys are awesome, and I hope my love for you and what you do came through in the book. If not, wait for the print version.

More West Virginia Pictures!

From HELLBENDER: The gray came from a full moon. The silver light, so bright it cast shadows, fell upon trees as massive as Acropolis columns. It reflected off empty glass bottles, off the metal barrels of shotguns and rifles. In the forest all around me a chorus of crickets and cicadas kept me company. Time stopped moving forward in a straight line. It felt like a web, where one strand left diagonally, and always returned to the center via another strand, so I experienced the same patterns of pain and dreaming over and over again with only slight variations.

From HELLBENDER: We fled the Shavers Fork watershed and returned to the Blackwater via Otter Creek. When the old green path hit the ridge top, pine gave way to spruce that blocked out nearly all of the morning sunlight. The faint glow of headlights did little to pierce the darkness.

From HELLBENDER: My eyes strained to pierce the fog that prevented me from seeing this wilderness as a whole. Waterfalls streamed down the steep walls in stony chutes that acted more like downspouts than streambeds. White threads intertwined to make strands of lace that plunged a thousand feet from the rocky ledges near the rim. I got drunk on the cool breezes that drifted up from the river below. The speed had a narcotic effect, which when combined with the rhythm of the rails made me want to pull out my fiddle and play along to the song it was singing.

From HELLBENDER: Katy whooshed in with her boyfriend in a scream of car stereo and everybody dropped what they were doing to run over and see them. They pulled the new silver VW onto the grass in-between the fire and Jamie's house. Katy looked more polished than I'd ever seen her. Like, she went from a fern to a Pink Lady's Slipper in just a season. Her hair was colored and styled and she wasn't dressed like a thirteen-year-old girl. Her little floral patterned dress, unbuttoned way too low, made her look like some kind of revivalist rebel. She walked proud and smiled like she was posing for Vogue. Alex stood next to me, holding a kitten, and asked, "Who's that?"

More Wild and Wonderful West Virginia!

      Even though sun fell at my back, the sky ahead was still thick with rain. Through the scent of wet concrete and stinky neoprene I could smell my mountains.
      My Appalachians.
      For better or worse, like how a dog belonged to its fleas.

      All this happened as the sun slid across the sky and dipped toward Canaan Mountain on the other side of the valley, four or five miles away. It was a circus of pink and gold that lingered the way that only a summer-bound sunset can.

     "That’s why I’m here." He took an old pistol and a box of rounds out of a shoebox and threw them into the pack.
     I had to look away. "Ben...."
     "For snakes. Let’s go." He tossed the old pack over his shoulder.

     By the time we hit Seneca Rocks the sun was halfway into its trip to noon. Shadows stretched out from the mountains, hiding coolness in their breeches. At the climbing school guides sipped coffee and stretched their ropes. Ben pulled right up to the porch. Tourists lingered by their cars, as far from the guides as was proper. The stoners were slack-lining, their gear littered picnic tables. One had dreadlocks and a shaggy beard. I could smell weed as soon as I got out of the Jeep. Say what you will about raft guides, but at least they got wet once a day.

     We strode over the gashed earth where skidders and bulldozers had torn through the soil. Past smoldering piles of ash that used to be tsuga canadensis, kalmia latifolia. Indian pipes, whorled loosestrife, and flowering raspberry were little more than smoke signals now. A first-hand account of the destruction.

Download Hellbender for you Kindle at Amazon.com or for other devices at Smashwords.com.

My Wild and Wonderful West Virginia!

     The hair on my neck and arms stood when she kissed me. Her breath was cool, like the wind that twisted the spruce on the huckleberry plains above. When she said my name I couldn’t tell if I was hearing words or the arrival of summer.

     Alex didn’t say anything until I pulled up to the old Jenkinsburg Bridge. This was much higher than the bridge over the Big Sandy. The old steel trestle spanned the V-shaped Cheat Canyon quite dramatically. Big pines buttressed each end and a rocky rapid flowed below. Occasional rock outcroppings punctuated the steep, green slopes.

     I slowed as we came through the village of Thomas. Old company stores hemmed us in on one side, the Blackwater River on the other. The Miners and Merchants Bank was the only non-tourism related business left on the whole street. Exiting town took us up still higher, through white pines and past the ball field where I played Little League. Canaan Mountain loomed high in the background; the spruce along the top was visible even from here. We passed the entrance to Blackwater Falls State Park and a chill fell upon us. It was so cold Alex dug for my fleece in the back of the Jeep.

Girls loved raft guides like rabbits love clover...

The ground twisted and slithered. A sea of snakes pulled themselves from chilly crevasses to seek the warmth of the heavy, dark ties. Timber rattlers, too sleepy to be excitable, kept their distance from the heavy wheels. Feisty copperheads coiled and feigned aggression.

The power of the ancient forest was apparent from the moment the sun passed overhead.

The quiet meadows along the road were about to erupt with the greens of wild bleeding hearts and tiger lilies. Some dark pocket on the backside of the ridge probably hid the last painted trillium of the year.

All around the green walls of Mozark Mountain, Otter Creek, and Blackwater Canyon muffled any shouts of assistance to the outside world.

     "Hungry?" I asked. But her reply didn't matter. I was starving, and drifted to a stop in front of Sirianni's. Almost like I'd followed the smell of garlic right to the front door.

     North Fork Mountain kept people out of this part of the world; it was the first ridge in a series that ended at the Shenandoah in Virginia. Where Spruce Knob was capped with its namesake vegetation, North Fork Mountain had rocky fins of Tuscarora Sandstone crenellating its long, narrow expanse. Wanderers and outcasts gave in to the pull of West Virginia's secret border, a place the rest of the country ignored. But the exposed rock nestled in a bed of white pine finally broke my silence. It made me smile.

HELLBENDER Creepin' up on ya.

Today I locked down the formatting for the Smashwords Edition eBooks. Kindle's next. Witches, whiskey and revenge--you ready?

HELLBENDER draft finished!

From HELLBENDER:

     My words were rooted in these hills, carried on the backs of the Irish farmers who followed the Potomac southwest instead of crossing the spruce-covered ridges of the Allegheny Front. My muscles formed from climbing white oaks and boulders, from hauling firewood. The mountain rivers that flashed through narrow canyon walls, over boulders and under high railroad bridges, flowed through my veins. Laurel brakes nestled beneath Pottsville sandstone ledges were my nursery. Sad fiddle tunes, played by old-timers beside a dying fire were my genetic code.
     In these mountains I’d seen things that Alex would never believe: floods, rockslides, forest fires and blizzards. One time I saw a bear defend her cubs from hunting dogs while I hid in the upper branches of an old oak. Later, on that same trip I saw a blacksnake swallow her young when a hawk flew over. One time, near Smoke Hole I found a cave where thousands of bats roosted, then came back a year later to see that the Forest Service had barricaded its entrance to protect them. When I was really little I saw West Virginia’s last confirmed cougar trapped and beaten on the plains above Red Creek. The musky smell of its urine as it pissed itself had made me cry.
     From a clearing on Spruce Knob I spent weeks watching two comets, Hale-Bopp and Hyakutake, as they streaked sunward in a cycle of rebirth as old as the solar system. Then on a backpacking trip to Roaring Plains I saw the sky strangely empty of planes and contrails for three whole days, only to return to a world much different than the one I had left.
     In my short life dead rivers had struggled back to life, the orange-stained rocks are the only reminders of a time when nothing would live there. In my short life mountaintops disappeared, bulldozed into tender streams. None of this could I have seen from anywhere other than here.
     And I couldn’t prove most of it.

THE DEVIL AND PRESTON BLACK

You'd think finding a song named after you on an old record would be kind of cool. But that's not how it goes down for Preston Black.

What starts out as a search for his old man turns into a quest for an original version of "The Sad Ballad of Preston Black". Turns out the song is about his deal with the devil, a deal Preston doesn't really remember making.

When the devil decides it's time to cash in things get really interesting. People he loves get hurt, and Preston starts to wonder if a long fall into an icy river is his only way out.

Lucky for Preston, he has help. A music ethnographer with connections in some of Appalachia's darkest hollows convinces him that his salvation can be found in the music. Preston can buy that. It's the hexes, curses and spells he has a hard time with.

And it's the ghost of John Lennon who convinces Preston to do something about it.


      I wish I could say I found that record the first time I walked into the joint. But honestly, I'd been going into Isaac's every week since he'd hung his shingle out. Ever since I started giving lessons next door, at least. Killing time at Isaac's was easier than killing time with Mick's Strats and Twin Reverbs. The guitar shop had become too much like work, Mick too much like a boss. If I showed up early he always found meaningless little jobs for me to do, like tuning the Guilds and refilling humidifiers. If I showed up a minute late he was all, 'Get yourself a watch.'
      So I'd hide out at Isaac's until my lessons arrived, soaking up the juju that dripped off the old vinyl like heat from a spotlight. The simplicity of an album, its lack of moving parts, spoke to me in a way CDs didn't. Vinyl had a tender, handmade quality that made me believe that the music had been born into a more authentic era. Like a record could somehow be more sincere than a CD or mp3. But I knew all that was a load of crap. In the end, only the music mattered.
      For me, walking into Isaac's gave me the same feeling some people get when they walk into a church or a mall. I can't describe it. Maybe enlightenment, but I'm not sure if I've ever experienced that feeling. Either way, all I had to do to soak up the collective wisdom hiding in all of those vinyl grooves was appreciate the music, and try to understand where the artist was coming from. I swore if I browsed long enough I'd find whatever guidance I needed to get me through my paper-thin life. And since my own father ran off long before I ever learned how to hold down a G chord, I'd never have to worry about overdosing on guidance.
      The guys my mom brought home didn't have a lot of wisdom to pass on. They all either wanted to preach to me or beat me. So I didn't need a semi-employed union pipefitter around giving me shit when I had the Holy Trinity of John Lennon, Joe Strummer and Bruce Springsteen helping me down the path of lyrics and music. Each of these guys came into my life when I needed them the most. And each left just like my own dad did--long gone before I ever had a chance to say goodbye. But their lessons stuck. Joe Strummer taught me it was okay to throw a few bricks, and that a cop was something I really didn't want to be. From John Lennon I learned that if you were clever they hated you, and for a fool it was worse. From Robert Hunter I learned the devil's friend sure ain't a friend of mine.
      In hindsight, I should've listened to Hunter. Call it irony, but the morning I found the old LP that had me standing on the Westover Bridge thinking about taking the final jump, I'd been browsing near Ozzy, a friend of the devil if the devil ever had one. Before that LP I assumed lyrics were just lyrics. Didn't know they could be warning labels too.
      Besides, the douche bags who worked at Isaac's treated me like I had the musical tastes of a ten-year-old boy. I couldn't help it I never heard of Black Flag or The Pixies growing up. My brother and me were pretty much forced to listen to whatever mom played in the car. Mostly country. Kenny and Dolly singing "Islands in the Stream." Garth Brooks, if we were lucky. Most people didn't have to dig as deep as I did to find something they recognized in an old record or song.
      And digging deeper was pretty much what I was doing the day I found my LP misplaced behind Blizzard of Oz. On my way to return the record to the BLUEGRASS section the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen stepped out of the CLASSICAL stacks. She smiled. I smiled back. She asked what I had in my hand. On the cover a bunch of anonymous pickers sat in front of an old log cabin. The back of the record said Uncle Mason's Front Porch: Best of the Blackwater Sessions.
      And on the track list, between "Pretty Polly" and "Hangman's Reel" was a song called "The Sad Ballad of Preston Black", written by E. Black.
      I knew right then and there that if I could ever find the man who'd written that song, I'd have found my dad.



In less than twenty-four hours THE SAD BALLAD OF PRESTON BLACK shows up in Amazon's Kindle Store. This is kind of a soft release because there'll be a few bugs to iron out--I'm afraid some the internal links won't work and a heading or two may be off-center. But it's what I've been working on for the last few years. And I'm damn proud of it. And I did it independently, without any hand holding. And this is the format my writing was meant to appear in.

A few years ago this type of freedom wasn't available to a writer, unless you were lucky enough to to have an editor at a small press who was willing to take risks with formats. I think seeing the kind of fun Mike Arnzen had with his Gorelets and Audiovile made me wonder what kind of sweetheart deal I'd have to get to be able to work in those formats. Now I don't have to wonder anymore.

As soon as I get my Kindle formatting straightened out I'm going to start recording the soundtrack to The Devil and Preston Black. I already have the guitar worked out for three songs, and have complete lyrics to one, have banjo and electric guitar parts and bass lines for a few more. I'm still looking for somebody to help me with drum tracks and I'm hoping a sexy violinist will show up to put finishing touches on everything. After I get the title track finished I'm going to complete the book trailer I started.

The cover is temporary, too. I put it together out of necessity, but have been talking to Jim Sherradin of Hatch Show Prints of Nashville, Tennessee about a proper cover. Hatch is a traditional print shop that does concert posters for the Ryman Auditorium and Grand Ole Opry. I'd love to visit them over the summer and see how it's done, and hopefully document part of the process.

You know, I dropped more than a few characters talking about the Big Six and the state of publishing and all that, so I'm not going to do it again here. But in a way I feel like I no longer have to do it here, or anywhere. The industry used to be the biggest obstacle to publication and I KNOW they vetted writers and I KNOW their goal was deliver to first-rate stories to readers. But somewhere along the way they became the enemy to writers like me--writers who's only platform was a love of storytelling and a masters degree. And there are a lot of us out there. We like the idea of not having to write to a marketing department or a demographic. We like the freedom of writing for ourselves and being able to get it out there without the hassle of toeing the line or trying to impress an agent.

Writing and publishing this book has been the most gratifying experience I've had since I typed my first Chapter One back in 1998 when we were living in a tiny apartment down in Orlando, Florida while working for The Mouse. The challenges I face are my own, but a community is starting to gel. I've met so many people going this route who are more than willing to help a brother out. (I'm looking at you, M Stephen Lukac. How many other writers can pick up writing advice at Shop 'n Save?)

I got goosebumps writing this. Every writer should be able to feel this way about their work. Now they can. I don't care if my mom's the only person in the world who ever reads my book, because it's out there like H1N1. And I didn't have to compromise or give away 80% to do it.

In 2011, this is what happy, successful writers looks like.

Banff Mountain Film Festival Returns!!

We are pleased to announce that the Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour will be returning to Morgantown at the Metropolitan Theater, 369 High Street, 7:00 PM, Thursday, April 7, 2011.

Tickets will be available this Friday, March 18, from our retail partner Pathfinder of WV.

235 High Street (next to the County Court House)
Morgantown 23505, 304.296.0076; www.pathfinderwv.com
;

Mon: 10am-7pm, Tuesday thru Friday 10am-6pm, Sat 10am-5pm, Sunday closed

Tickets will also be available at the door after 6 PM on the 7th, but buy in advance at Pathfinder’s and save.

Tickets are $14 in advance, students with school ID $11 and at the door after 6 PM on April 7, $16 for adults and $13 students.

To see the awesome new 2011 Banff Intro video and for more information regarding tickets, hours, contacts, directions, etc. visit our web at:

http://www.chestnutmtnproductions.com/banff/morgantownhome.htm


And back by popular demand, The Legendary Woodticks, playing traditional old-time string music.

Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour, Morgantown, WV, 7 PM, Thursday, April 7, 2011

Kranked Kids - Just down the Road
Canada, 2010, 4 minutes,
Directed and Produced by Bjørn Enga
Website: www.radical-films.com
Classification: General - no advisory
Focus: Mountain biking / Humour
Kranked Kids – Just down the Road is a delightful four-minute coming-of-age mountain bike parody

Life Cycles (Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour edit)USA, 2010, 14 minutes
Directed and Produced by Ryan Gibb and Derek Frankowski
Website: www.lifecyclesfilm.com
Classification: General – no advisory
Focus: Mountain Biking
Filmed in Ultra HD, Life Cycles provides some of the most visually stunning images the mountain sports world has ever seen. It’s a beautiful celebration of the bicycle, and is sure to amaze anyone who has ever ridden one.

Crossing the Ditch Best Film on Exploration and Adventure, sponsored by the Kicking Horse Coffee Company
Australia, 2009, 55 minutes
Produced by Greg Quail, Douglas Howard and Justin Jones
Website: www.quail.tv and www.crossingtheditch.com.au/
Classification: General – coarse language
Focus: human adventure; sea-kayaking
Spanning 2200 kilometres between Australia and New Zealand, the Tasman Sea is one of the world’s deadliest and most treacherous oceans. No one had ever successfully navigated the Tasman by kayak, although many had tried. Crossing the Ditch tells the story of two young Australians, James Castrission and Justin Jones, who battle ten meter towering waves, massive storms, shark-filled seas, and strong currents to conquer the Tasman Sea.

Khumbu Climbing School
USA, 2010, 8 minutes
Directed and Produced by Renan Ozturk and Corey Richards
Website: http://camp4collective.com
Classification: General - no advisory
Focus: Mountaineering, Human story / Culture
Through this beautifully crafted film, we learn how the Khumbu Climbing School has contributed to the safety of Nepali climbers, Sherpas and high-altitude support workers as they learn proper techniques for knot-tying, belaying, and ice climbing from world-class mountaineers. In Khumbu Climbing School, it's apparent that the school provides more than just training – as one experienced Sherpa says: “I always felt like a yak, even though I had been to the summit of Mount Everest. Now, I'm a climber."

Into Darkness
USA, 2010, 15 minutes
Directed and Produced by: John Waller
Website: www.uncagethesoul.com
Classification: General - no advisory
Focus: Caving, Environment
Into Darkness is a short adventure essay about the experience of exploring the secret underworld of caves. Journey along with a group of cavers who push through impossibly small passages to access some of the final frontiers on earth. The images and sounds of spectacular and remote wilderness caves will reveal a fantastic world unlike anything we experience on the surface.

The Swiss Machine
USA, 2010, 20 minutes
Produced by: Nick Rosen and Peter Mortimer
Website: www.senderfilms.com
Classification: Parental Guidance - coarse language
Focus: Climbing, Mountaineering
Ueli Steck may be the greatest speed alpinist the world has ever seen. In The Swiss Machine, Steck tells of his record-breaking ascents in the Alps, accompanied by stunning aerial footage that captures him racing up 2500-metre alpine faces. When he joins Alex Honnold in Yosemite, Steck sets his ultimate goal: to take his one-man alpine speed game to the largest, highest walls in the world.

BANFF MOUNTAIN FILM FESTIVAL FILM MENU

Email from Adventure's Edge:

Dear Past Attendees:

We are pleased to announce that the Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour will be returning to Morgantown at the Morgantown High School Auditorium, Thursday, April 8, 2010, 7 PM...

Tickets are now available at:

Adventure's Edge

131 Pleasant Street

(304) 296.9007

www.theadventuresedge.com

Mon-Friday 11 am to 7pm; Sat 10 am to 5 pm

Note: on the day of the Banff show, April 8, they will close at 4 PM

Tickets are $13 in advance ($10 students with school ID) or $16 (students $13) at the door.

Tickets will also be available at the door on the 8th but buy in advance at Adventure's Edge and save.

To see the awesome new 2010 Banff Intro video go to

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uso3ZaEX21g

MedeoZ

France, 2008, 6 minutes
Directed and Produced by Guillaume Broust
Website: http://kyom.blogspot.com/2008/02/og-team.html
Classification: General – no advisory
Focus: Multi-sport, humour, family-friendly

Filmed in the Mont Blanc range, this short features six different mountain sports: climbing, skiing, snowboarding, speed riding, paragliding and BASE jumping.

Kranked - Revolve

Canada, 2009, 11 minutes
Directed and produced by Bjørn Enga
Website: www.radical-films.com
Classification: General - coarse language
Focus: Mountain biking

The coolest human-powered adrenaline tool ever invented -- the mountain bike? "Revolve" blasts in cinematic glory from the French Alps to the lush coast of B.C., incorporating dirt jump, trail, freeride, slopestyle and downhill.

Take a Seat

Special Jury Mention

UK, 2009, 46 minutes
Directed by: Ed Stobart, Dominic Gill
Produced by: Lucy Wilcox
Website: www.ginger.tv ; www.takeaseat.org
Classification: General - nudity
Focus: Human story, adventure, biking

Dominic Gill’s mission is to cycle the 32,000 kilometres from the northern coast of Alaska to the southern tip of South America, on a tandem bike, picking up random strangers on the way. A gripping tale of two years and two continents, full of extraordinary characters and incidents.

The Ultimate Skiing Showdown

Canada, 2009, 4 minutes
Directed and produced by David McMahon
Website: www.xczone.tv
Classification: General - no advisory
Focus: Nordic Skiing, Family-friendly

The final sprint showdown between the fastest skiers on Earth in juxtaposition with a stunt performer showing some of the sickest moves on Nordic skis. A lot of fun!

Rowing the Atlantic

USA, 2009, 26 minutes
Directed and produced by JB Benna
Website: www.journeyfilm.com
Classification: General – no advisory
Focus: Sea-kayaking, adventure, human story, family-friendly

A few years ago, Roz Savage gave up what for many would be an ideal life (husband, great job, big house), picked up a few pairs of rowing oars and a boat to go with them and set off across the Atlantic Ocean – alone – in a rowboat.

Deep/Shinsetsu

Japan, 2009, 3 minutes
Directed and Produced by Masaki Sekiguchi
Website: www.ebisfilms.jp
Classification: General – no advisory
Focus: Powder skiing, family-friendly

"Shinsetsu" means deep powder in Japanese. This short film expresses a typical day in the mountains in Japan.

First Ascent: Alone on the Wall

USA, 2009, 24 minutes
Directed and produced by Peter Mortimer and Nick Rosen
Website: www.senderfilms
Classification: General – coarse language
Focus: Rock Climbing, free solo climbing

After gaining international climbing renown for his landmark free-solo of "Moonlight Buttress" (V, 5.12+, 9 pitches) in Zion National Park, Utah, in April 2008, 24-year-old Alex Honnold moves on to his next big challenge: the first free-solo of the "Regular Northwest Face" route (VI, 5.12a, 23 pitches) on Yosemite’s Half Dome.

Project Megawoosh
Special Jury Mention

Germany, 2009, 4 minutes
Directed by Minh Duong
Produced by Nikolas Hannack
Classification: General, no advisory
Focus: Humour, spoof

Come early (after 6:30 PM) and hear, back by popular demand, the Legendary Woodticks (www.thewoodticks.com) … on fiddles, guitars, and banjo as they play traditional old-time string music. Inspired by the stories told through the songs, the harmonies both sweet and discordant, and the infectious rhythm of the music, they set off to pick up where generations before had left off. The tunes they play are traditional and tell a tale of a time long ago. They will also play during the intermission.

The Sixth Annual Morgantown Film and Photo Festival

The Banff Mountain Film Festival is the kick-off to the Sixth Annual Morgantown Adventure Film and Photo Festival presented by Adventure's Edge. The festival provides an opportunity for local filmmakers and photographers whose hearts and souls abide in West Virginia to showcase there adventures from near and far. Artists are invited to submit films, slide shows, or photographs featuring adventure sports or the outdoors. The festival includes a "locals'" film festival, gear swap, photo exhibit, and climbing shoe demo.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

7 pm: Banff Mountain Film Festival at Morgantown High School

April 14-21, 2010

Every day Photo Exhibit at Black Bear Restaurant at 132 Pleasant Street

Thursday, April 22, 2010

7 pm: Morgantown Adventure Film Festival & Photo Exhibit at 123 Pleasant St.

Saturday April 17, 2010

10 am-4 pm: Used Gear Sale at Adventure's Edge (call 304.296.9007)

Additional Info at: www.theadventuresedge.com

Daily Diversion

I know what cabin fever is. It's real, like seasonal affective disorder with more anger. Being in a room without windows all day doesn't help. I know summer is coming, I just don't know if I'm going to last.

http://www.fsvisimages.com/doso1/doso1#

Dolly Sods sits along the ridge at the far side of the valley. When I think about summer, that's where I am.