Hole in the hill

We had no idea we'd be stumbling across a piece of U.S. history on Saturday when DV and I took our dogs out together for the first time since he got a new pup. Walking along an old mining road that is now part of a state park we met a man and a woman who were also walking their dog. While chatting with the guy he told us how to find the old iron mine, which was easily reached along two paths that used to be the rail lines up to the mine. We had walked by them so many times! It's amazing what you don't see sometimes. The mine—a gaping hole among an otherwise typical rock outcropping—apparently fed a now razed foundry that existed a few miles west on the river. It made armaments during the 19th century, including supplying cannons for Union forces during the Civil War.

I tried to find some information about the mine on the Net but learned only that this area was heavily mined for iron until the technology was displaced by steel production in the later part of the 1800s. I picked up a piece of ore that fit nicely into my hand. A magnet slaps to it tightly. That's high quality ore. It obviously was worth all the work they put into getting it.

To be honest, the mine was both fascinating and scary. It's big triangular hole going down into the hillside, and where the vein of iron was you can still see wooden beams placed there, I suppose, to keep the other strata of rock from caving in, though I doubt it would have done much good. The intrepid explorer Maya ventured down in, though only DV was close enough to see her and she came right out when called. DV wants to go back without the dogs and scale down inside with some rope. I dunno 'bout that. One might say the signs weren't good for such an adventure, since DV fell while taking pictures of me at the opening. The fall was outside the mine on the slope leading away from the lip of the cut in the earth leading down to the hole but some might take that as a bad omen. Not that I'm superstitious, though if I recall correctly, folks who toil around such tunnels into the earth tend to be. DV had to hobble out for more than two miles of the 6.37 miles we hiked that day (according to the Nike Plus I used to log our distance).

Despite DV's injury—he felt like he twisted his knee—it was a great outing. The weather was fantastic in this, probably the warmest winter I can remember, and I'm still psyched about finding the mine. Our dogs got along really well. DV's Shiba Inu named Sibirius is a feisty little guy. Sibi, who is about four months old, I think, kept asserting himself with Maya, but she was cool, as long as she has someone to play with she doesn't care about who's boss. DV says he usually has trouble keeping track of Sibi, who tends to run ahead and doesn't readily respond when called. From what I've read and heard that's typical of Shiba Inus, a Japanese breed that is known for independence. Maya had a positive influence and Sibi stayed fairly close to us. I'm looking forward to more outings with DV and Sibi. "The woods are lovely, dark and deep." ... and so full of archaeology and history. In all the places Maya and I hike it seems the past is there, just waiting to be recognized.