Walking Through Time

There is a certain allure to the open wilderness; a sense of freedom and peaceful calm seems to overcome those who choose to explore. In our earliest days of our statehood, exploration was part of expanding and settling into a new world rather than taking in a scenic walk. Some of my fondest memories are of taking those leisurely wilderness walks and exploring my surroundings.

From an early age, I was fascinated by what else was around me. My family owned a farm along Prickly Ash Creek, aside vast acres of farmland and old roads that cut across the ‘hollers’. Dotting the landscape are old houses, barns and outbuildings that have stood for generations, surviving time and nature. On days when my parents had farm work and I was too young to help out, I would explore the creek and wooded areas immediately next to the farm. I was curious to see what was just beyond the horizon and loved to explore just outside the old house next to our barn. As I got older, dad and I would hunt in the area and occasionally come up on an old settlement or remains of where one used to be. I wondered about who lived there and how it was when the homes were vibrant with life and activity. Sometimes, we would find direct personal connection with those who lived there, either by finding long forgotten pieces of furniture or other household items, or on some occasions, a small family cemetery nestled behind the home or barn.

My uncle owned a farm up what’s called Naylor Creek, an area rich for exploration. As a matter of fact, one of the first permanent settlements in Bath County was located at the mouth of Naylor Creek along Kentucky Route 111. Built in 1783 by Hugh Sidwell, Thomas Clark and a man known as Ballard, the small settlement has been debated to be the very first permanent settlement in the county.

Near my uncle’s farm, there was an old horse and buggy road that led into White Oak. It branched off into other directions along the route, leading to a forgotten world of collapsed and standing homes. Naturally, curiosity led me to venture inside some of the buildings, cautiously looking into the past. One house in particular had old news papers as wall paper that was still legible. There were stories from the 1940’s plastered along the walls, some detailing battles in far off places during World War II. One place I came across was the remains of an old cabin with a large stone fireplace still standing. The house had collapsed, but the logs were still there. Along the old fireplace, there was a rough hewn log with the date 1849 etched into it; a direct indication of how old this settlement was. Another house had the remains of an old bed and some old square bottles with embossed lettering on them. These bottles once contained embalming fluid. Perhaps this house belonged to a doctor or undertaker at one time?

The most unsettling feeling I ever felt in a house I found was far up Naylor Creek, past my uncle’s farm. The back door was partially open and I went into what was once the kitchen. Surprisingly, there were appliances still in the house, and the cupboard still had jars of vegetables inside it. A small pot-bellied stove sat in the corner of the kitchen, just as if a fire should still have been inside warming the room. I eased into another room that was mainly bare, but when I got into the living room, it was as if the occupants just left one day and never returned. Magazines dating from the 1960’s were still on the table by a chair; shoes lay on the floor beside the same chair. As I looked around, I found a coat closet and there were some clothes still hanging in it. I felt quite uneasy being in there, not knowing why the home had been left with so much haste. I left and didn’t look back, but always remained curious as to why the house was left as it was so many years ago. It was many years later that I went back to that house, but the upper story had collapsed and the house was in no shape to explore again. I don’t know if the house is even still standing, and to respect the new property owner next to my uncle’s farm who doesn’t think too kindly of people crossing his land, I haven’t ventured back.

Some days, my ventures were only made by my dog Grounder and me. I would set out and follow the old county roads that wandered across the wilderness. One of my favorite stops was the old Norris farm that sat high on a ridge above Prickly Ash and Washington Branch. There was an old barn and house there, and an old cistern that always had clear, cool water in it. The house was in remarkably good shape, considering it hadn’t been lived in for many years. I would go up to the second floor and sit in a chair left by a hunter, peering out at the view for endless moments. The view was spectacular; I could see almost all of Owingsville and the surrounding places from that vantage point. That was my happy place where I could remove myself from any problems I had. From that farm, other roads branched off, like the house and barn were the stopping point of several routes. One could imagine horse and buggy riders stopping off on their journey into town to trade or simply gather water from the cistern. The house and barn are long gone now, only two small cemeteries hidden in the woods are left on that farm.

In today’s world, it is virtually impossible to set out on these journeys like I did when I was younger. People have become wary of strangers passing through their lands with good reason, due to the increase of crime and property damages irresponsible people inflict. To me, exploring these old settlements was more than simple curiosity and meandering, it was a chance to see the history of one area of Bath County.