Majestic Mines

Any wrong turn off of highway 33 would frighten many people: I am not an exception. I was accompanied by two classmates in an old Honda Accord and 4 other vehicles with students all of which were apart of our class car pool. We were venturing on an excursion to the Majestic Mines. We were on a gravel drive and trailers were on our right and left. I peered into the homes and no lights were present. I looked down at my cell phone and I did not have any reception. The road was unmarked and the place looked like an abandoned ghost town. Someone had the intelligence to comment that we might be going the wrong way. After we turned around and vigorously studied the directions we found our mistake and in five minutes we were back on track. Turning on a familiar looking road, once again paved, it led us directly into a deep wooded area. The trees were tall, skinny and were starting to loose their leaves. They seemed extremely close and crowded the narrow road.

My home in Cincinnati sits on two acres of land. As a child and early into my teenage years I spent hundred of hours in the wood. It was a place where I was inspired only by my imagination. With shovels, nails, a hammer, and sticks from the wood my friends and I would collaborate and build forts. It was enjoyable. It was a place to escape from parents and daily chores.

We finally arrived at the site and entering the wood my first thoughts ran back to my childhood but there were no tire swings or tree forts. Instead it looked foreign. A short gravel path led us to an opening. A red bearded man representing a local environmental agency met and gave us the history and the science of the site. He told us that he considers himself a mud loving outdoorsmen. The first thing I noticed was the shallow discolored creek that was surrounded by dead plants. There was a piece of ply wood that was placed over the creek that was used as a makeshift bridge. The most unique looking part about the site could be found across the creek: covering the ground was wet mud the color of the planet Mars. I could not hear any sound of wildlife. A stream of running water was flowing towards the top of the hill right before the land turned into a steady mountainous incline. Our tour guide urged us to take samples of the water to determine the acidity and results showed the acidity equal to a can of soda.

After examining the grounds for myself in knee high black rubber boots I began to realize that this was my first experience with any sort of restoration and preservation effort. I have never considered myself as an environmentalist go-green fanatic but my boot sunk a foot deep in the acidic mud I began to understand why people become passionate about these issues.