West Virginia is mostly hills with some flatter, rich bottom land in between each ridge. There are what we call actual mountains in the 3000-4000+ foot range on the eastern side of the state and there are also some gently rolling open fields in the Eastern Panhandle and along the bigger rivers. In Ritchie County, located in the NW Central part of the state, what we have is waves of wooded hills with narrow troughs of bottom land in between. Usually there is a sizable creek meandering through the red clay, silt and loam of these valleys, and often times no bridges to get from the road to the other side. The creeks flood on a regular basis and will cover any low water cement bridge, so many folks keep their vehicles on the road side of the bridge during rainy spells and rely on a footbridge to get themselves across to their house during high water.

Our creek crossing was just a  tractor-wide track cut into the creek bank, angled in an upside down V shape, so flowing water did not wash it out too much. Bedrock lined the creek bottom and normally most of the mud washed away, leaving a fairly stable roadbed in shallow water. We could drive the pickup or the tractor through just fine when the ground was dry, but it could get tricky climbing out after some long rains.

We were building a house across the creek, way up on top of the hill, and needed to haul our stack of sawmill lumber up, a little at a time. The Ford 9N tractor was old, the hill was steep and the trailer small. It had been raining off and on for a week but the ground seemed thirsty enough to handle it. We hitched the trailer to the tractor, loaded a stack of lumber, and drove down into the crossing. The load was heavy and the trailer sunk into the mud more than expected. We had to rock the tractor back and forth some, which churned up the mud and made it even gummier.

Meanwhile, heavy clouds started rolling in over the ridge. We never could see weather until it was right on top of us, with the hill blocking the view to the west.

It started to rain. The tires dug in a little deeper. The clay on the steep bank got slicker and slicker. The tractor was going nowhere with this heavy load behind it.

 We started tossing the boards up on the far bank to lighten the load. It rained harder.

Bunnels Run is part of a huge watershed and upstream about 4 miles it runs through the little town of Pennsboro, where plenty of roofs and concrete contribute to massive amount of fast runoff. Our little creek can grow from 12 feet wide to 200 feet wide in the space of 45 minutes if the ground is already saturated from previous rains, and it rains hard enough. Being stuck in the creek when it starts to rising is a scary thing.

I am on the tractor, driving, and Eck gets in the creek with a heavy pole wedged against the draw bar, trying to help push the 9n up the slope. He shoved some brush in front of the tires for traction. It continues to rain. It rains harder. The wheels spin and the creek slowly starts to rise.

The neighbors see we are having trouble and send their two teenage boys, who climb down into the creek to help push. Somebody hands them each a pole and now three of them are wedging the poles into the muck and trying to lever the tractor up the hill. In low gear, I am trying to crawl up the hill without spinning. The creek continues to rise as we inch ever so slowly forward.

The guys are in water up to their thighs and the engine is still clear of the rising water. I wish we had a tree or something we could chain a come along around to help, but there is nothing but elderberry and small black willow bushes growing nearby.

The rain keeps coming down and the creek keeps on rising. The guys are up to their waists now and we are all getting panicky. We can not afford to lose this tractor. We can also not have anyone get swept away. Another neighbor hooks up a rope and pulls from the front. That seems to be the tipping point. The tractor is slowly, steadily, climbing out. Whew!

We quickly reload the lumber after reaching flat ground again and park the tractor on the old railway berm, away from the creek. We are able to cross back over the creek to our side using the neighbors single pole foot bridge. The rain keeps coming. The creek rises a couple of more feet before it spreads out all over the bottom. We got out just in time.

We are so glad to have neighbors who go above and beyond when we need them. We will be ready and willing whenever they need help in return.