“A Moving River Experience” is what St. Paul, Virginia, promises visitors. That . . . and a whole lot more.
Joan Vannorsdall
Sugar Hill is the high point of the new Sugar Hill State Park.
The day I arrive in St. Paul, lawyer/writer Frank Kilgore and Virginia Department of Conservation and Recreation supervisor Sharon Buchanan are flying high. The night before, the deed was recorded for 271-acre Sugar Hill State Park—eight miles of maintained trails winding through 100 acres of woodlands and meadows. It’s the first official segment of the Clinch River State Park, which will eventually run from Tazewell to Dungannon along the Clinch: Virginia’s first linear, “blueway” park.
Joan Vannorsdall
St. Paul lawyer Frank Kilgore stands in his Southwest Virginia History Museum.
Kilgore and Buchanan take me on a leisurely tour of the trail, which parallels the river, then rises up into high meadows and back down. Kilgore, the son and grandson of coal miners, owned the land before the transfer and has put up interpretive signs to mark the site of the first settler in Wise County, John English. All that’s left now is the chimney: English left the site when his wife and two sons were killed by Shawnee in 1779. He sold the land to Frenchman Baron Tuboeuf, killed by thieves. The land was farmed and in the 1930s, was used for production of maple syrup and sugar. Hence the name: Sugar Hill.
The trail winds down to Bluebell Island, where ducks float the Clinch, and great blue herons wade the shallows. On either side run coal trains: fewer than in the heyday of coal, but still plentiful. Where, in spring, bluebells line the banks, and where, in August, Joe Pye Weed and black-eyed Susans grow thick and tall.
“The Clinch River is one of the cleanest rivers in the East,” says Brad Kreps, director of the Nature Conservancy’s Clinch Valley Program. “And it’s one of the most biologically diverse rivers in the world, home to the greatest number of rare and endangered aquatic species—fish and freshwater mussels.”
Joan Vannorsdall
Virginia’s 50-year-old LOVE slogan marks the concert stage behind the Western Front Hotel.
Kreps is part of a dinner gathering at the Western Front Hotel in downtown St. Paul, where 13 of the “St. Paul Mafia” gather to tell the story of their town and region. The Western Front—named to recognize earlier St. Paul days of bordellos and bars “more dangerous than a battlefield”—is a 30-room boutique hotel managed by Katrina Mullins, who came home after 15 years in Colorado and says with pride, “We’re willing to try anything in St. Paul.” A $7.8 million boutique hotel in a town of 975 people? Indeed.
Telling stories is something these movers and shakers do very well. They tell the story of the St. Paul Tomorrow group, which pulled together in 1998 to develop a strategic plan in the wake of declining coal mining jobs. They knew river recreation and tourism would be the center of that plan, which in the 20 years since its development has seen great progress—including a much-needed hotel and restaurant.
Even the guest chef—Chef T, of Hell’s Kitchen fame—tells stories. About the food she cooks (“Eat Local, Eat Well”), and about St. Paul (“I’ve had the best sleep here I’ve ever had, and you never know what you’ll find in St. Paul.”) Each course she serves is narrated.
What St. Paul lacks in population, they make up for in relationships and energy. They tell their story well, and they market it well. And they seem to do it with one clear and persistent voice.
“I’ve never seen a place where the region, not individual needs, is the driving force,” says Sharon Buchanan.
Joan Vannorsdall
The Clinch River is one of the cleanest in the East.
The Clinch River in August is a beautiful, easy float, even for a novice. Mattie Gordon, owner of Clinch Life Outfitters, tells stories about the river and its wildlife, pointing out fish in the shallows and what might be a bald eagle overhead. Gordon, a St. Paul native who came home to run her family’s assisted living facility and open a kayak rental and fishing gear shop, oversees Stream Sweepers, a group working in-season to clear the river of tossed tires and household castoffs.
“We pay more than minimum wage, and the work is long and hard,” she says. “It fits with our goal of environmental and educational outreach in the area.”
Visitors seeking more noise and action would do well to rent an ATV and hit the Mountain View Trail, part of Southwest Virginia’s Spearhead Trail system—440 miles on former stripmined land. You can rent an ATV from the Western Front Hotel and ride through downtown to the trailhead, where you’ll find mud pits, black-diamond trails, and seemingly vertical drops. (You’re a novice? Just hold on tight.)
If you’re really lucky, you’ll get to experience Sugar Hill Brewery, called The Heart of Southwest Virginia’s Original and Best Brewpub, and then walk through Frank Kilgore’s private collection of historical items in his Southwest Virginia History Museum. You’ll see mining equipment, company scrip, postcards and photographs of coal camps, quilts and looms. Kilgore added the space behind his law office because his collection had overflowed his closets. Look closely enough, and you’ll see a July, 1977, Washington Post story and photo of a young Kilgore lobbying Congress for passage of the Federal Surface Mining Reclamation Act.
I’ve been traveling our mountains for a lot of years, and writing this column has given me a close look at some creative ways our small towns are finding to move forward. I have to say that I’ve never seen a town as unified, clear-minded and determined to survive with style as St. Paul, Virginia. Go see for yourself.
“If you look at a map, you’ll see that Southwest Virginia sits right in the middle of the East Coast. The sky’s the limit for us. We’re poised to blossom.” —Frank Kilgore
The story above appears in our November/December 2019 issue. For more subscribe today or log in to the digital edition with your active digital subscription. Thank you for your support!