Women and girls have long been part of that tradition. Across the Valley, they hunted alongside fathers, husbands, brothers, and grandfathers, learning the same skills and contributing in meaningful ways to family life and survival. Their involvement is not new or unusual. It has always been woven into the fabric of Valley life.

The Rudolph family, who farm in Yellow Spring, remembers their aunt Virginia, born more than ninety years ago, as a “crackerjack shot,” with the photos to prove it. Her story is not unusual. Women throughout the Valley were known for their skill, confidence, and self-reliance in the woods.

One of the most memorable stories comes from Aunt Bill, a member of the Hahn family from Dutch Hollow near Yellow Spring, who at age 92 recalled her first hunting experience with humor and grit:

“My husband Jim taught me to hunt. He took me up in the woods to this big old tall hickory nut tree, there was a squirrel up there and he yelled, ‘Shoot it!’ I guess he forgot to tell me the gun would buck. I held the gun up, but I didn’t hold it tight. For a second I thought that thing had kicked my head off. I got the squirrel, but boy, I never let on to Jim how it kicked me.”

It is a story that captures both the learning curve and the determination that shaped so many Cacapon Valley traditions.

Today, that legacy continues. Granddaughters still head into the woods alongside grandfathers during hunting season, and many hunt clubs across the Valley include women as active members. What may seem like a modern shift is actually the continuation of a long-standing tradition.

Hunting also played an important role in the Valley economy. Over time, the region became known as a destination for sportsmen, bringing visitors and seasonal income into local communities.

The area around Wardensville was once widely recognized throughout the East for its excellent hunting. Tom Nugent, who has been connected to Hardy County for more than forty years, remembers first reading about the area in a national publication:

“When they do the issue, naming the best hunting areas by region, one year it was right down the road, little old Wardensville and George Washington National Forest. As far as whitetail deer, this was it. That little town was packed during hunting season. The White Star, the little beer joint, they used to even rent out beds upstairs.”

During hunting season, local businesses filled up, homes opened their doors to visitors, and many Valley families earned extra income by providing meals and lodging to hunters.

For some local families, that income was essential. Martha Smith, whose family had a turkey farm outside Wardensville, remembers how hunting season brought vital opportunities across generations,  including to her mom and nine siblings after her father passed away:

“My mom used to keep as many as twenty-four hunters and us younger ones had to get up and pack all their lunches and help with the meals. Well after Dad died that was probably the main income she had, having the deer hunters. And some of the hunters would stay out at the Camp Jackson, but they would come here to get their meals. Mom fixed the breakfast, we packed the lunches, and then she fixed the suppers.”

Hunting in the Valley has always been about more than recreation. It is tied to food, survival, rural heritage, and community resilience.

From skilled women hunters to families finding ways to support one another, hunting has shaped the Valley in ways both visible and unseen. It has sustained livelihoods, strengthened traditions, and created stories that continue to echo across generations.

The most enduring part of that legacy is not just the tradition itself, but the people who continue to carry it forward.

The post Women of the Hunt: A Cacapon Valley Tradition appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

For Gene E. Fisher, the 163 acres known as North River are more than just land.

It’s a place woven into his family’s story for nearly a century.

“When I think about this land,” Gene says, “I always think about my grandparents and the people who first decided to protect it.”

In 1926, Gene’s grandparents and several others from Keyser, West Virginia made an unusual decision. They purchased land hours away from home and formed the Forest and Stream Protective Association.

Their goal was simple: protect forests, streams, and wildlife in West Virginia.

That decision still protects North River today.

But to understand why they did it, you have to look at what West Virginia looked like at the time.

 A Landscape That Needed Protection

At the turn of the twentieth century, much of West Virginia had been heavily logged. Hillsides once covered in hardwood forests were stripped bare.

Without trees to hold the soil, erosion increased. Streams were damaged, and many communities built around the timber industry collapsed once the forests were gone.

Gene remembers hearing stories about places like Hacker Valley, where his mother grew up.

“The economy there was ruined once the trees were gone,” he says.

Old photographs from towns like Cass show mountainsides covered with stumps instead of trees.

For people who loved the land, watching the forests disappear was heartbreaking.

Gene believes that’s what inspired his grandparents and their friends to act.

“They wanted to do something constructive,” he says. “They wanted to preserve what was left.”

A Mission That Still Matters

The founders created the Forest and Stream Protective Association and wrote their purpose clearly into the organization’s constitution:

“To propagate and preserve fish and game and all other wildlife; to protect all forests and streams within the State of West Virginia.”

Those words guided them through difficult times. The group held onto North River even during the Great Depression, when many families were struggling just to survive.

“That tells you how much this land meant to them,” Gene says.

Nearly 100 years later, the land is still cared for by the families who helped start the Association. Today, third and fourth generation members share the responsibility of protecting it.

To ensure the land remains the same for future generations, the property was placed under a conservation easement — a permanent agreement that protects it from development.

“We wanted to stay true to the purpose our founders had,” Gene says. “They cared deeply about this land, and we do too.”

A Place That Teaches

For Gene, North River has been part of his life since the very beginning.

“I was brought to North River before I could even walk,” he says.

Over the years he has spent countless days there exploring the woods, walking the streams, and watching the seasons change.

“This place humbles you,” Gene says. “It reminds you how small we are compared to the natural world.”

He often thinks about the words attributed to Chief Seattle:

“The earth does not belong to us; we belong to the earth.”

“We’re not owners forever,” Gene says. “We’re caretakers while we’re here.”

Listening to the Land

If anyone ever wonders why North River matters, Gene has a simple suggestion.

“Come here,” he says.

Stand on the ground. Wade in the stream. Listen.

You might see a kingfisher darting along the water or a tiny wren in the trees. You’ll hear the wind in the leaves and the quiet flow of the river.

“Just listen to the land,” Gene says. “It speaks in its own language.”

Places like North River have a way of slowing people down and reminding them what really matters.

“This land has a spirit to it,” Gene says. “When you spend time here, it has a way of healing you.”

Protecting North River for the Future

By placing North River under a conservation easement, the Forest and Stream Protective Association has ensured the land will remain protected for generations to come.

Gene hopes that long after he’s gone, families will still be able to walk these woods, wade in the stream, and experience the same connection to the land.

“My hope,” he says, “is that future generations will be humbled by this place the way we have.”

Because when you stand there — surrounded by forest, water, and wildlife — the feeling is hard to describe.

But Gene believes one phrase comes close.

“Almost Heaven,” he says.

“I believe it is.”

Help Protect Places Like North River

Places like North River remain protected because people care enough to act.

Whether by supporting conservation work or protecting their own land, individuals and families play an important role in keeping forests, farms, and streams intact for future generations.

Learn more about protecting land and supporting conservation →
www.cacapon.org/protecting-land/about-easements/

The post “Almost Heaven”: Protecting North River for Generations appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

The Slonaker family has owned and farmed land along Dillons Run for more than two centuries. Stephen remembers a different time growing up on the farm.

“I remember when the only light you could see at night was the moon,” he says. “That’s when I started to fall in love with my land.”

But over the years, the landscape around him began to change. Neighboring farms were sold, subdivided, and developed. Land that had once been open fields slowly filled with houses.

Stephen had seen the pressures of development up close. In the 1960s, a Virginia power company used eminent domain to cut massive power lines through the family’s land. Later, as a Hampshire County commissioner, he worked to guide growth responsibly — advocating for what he called “quality growth” rather than “greedy growth.” Delivering new roads, utilities, and services required careful planning, and he believed communities should grow thoughtfully.

Still, the changes kept coming.

One night in 2012, after a long commission meeting, Stephen was driving home. As he crested the hill above his farm, he imagined what the view might look like if development continued.

In his mind, houses filled the fields below.

That moment stayed with him.

“As long as I’m here,” he vowed, “there aren’t going to be houses in my fields.”

That conviction led Stephen to protect his 420-acre farm with a conservation easement. The agreement ensures the land will remain intact forever — able to continue as a working farm or, if nature takes the lead, return to wildlife habitat.

For Stephen, the decision is also about honoring the generations who came before him. His parents and grandparents worked this land and carried it through difficult times, including the Great Depression when other family properties were lost.

Their sacrifices are the reason the farm still exists today.

The conservation easement also helped restore part of the farm’s history. The financial benefits made it possible for Stephen to purchase an adjoining parcel that had once been part of the original farmstead — land that was slated for development. Reuniting it with the farm helped make the landscape whole again.

Protecting the land is Stephen’s way of honoring the past — and safeguarding the future.

Because for him, the promise remains simple:

“As long as I’m here, there aren’t going to be houses in my fields.”

Today, thanks to his conservation easement, the fields along Dillons Run will remain open — a working farm, a refuge for wildlife, and a piece of Hampshire County’s landscape that will never be divided.

Stories like Stephen’s are why land protection matters.

If you care about keeping farms intact, protecting wildlife habitat, and ensuring the Cacapon watershed remains healthy for generations to come, learn more about how conservation easements work.

Contact the Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust to start the conversation.

The post Protecting What Lasts: Stephen Slonaker’s Commitment to Land, Family, and the Future appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

Locals call it the Tea Table – a broad, sculpted rock that looks as though it was built for giants to gather and sip tea while overlooking the valley below. It’s the kind of place that makes you pause. The kind of place that feels timeless.

But the magic here goes far beyond the view.

More Than a Beautiful View

The Batten property surrounding the Tea Table ranks exceptionally high in landscape integrity and resilience. Its intact forest provides critical wildlife habitat, supports biodiversity, and plays an important role in protecting water quality.

That matters.

Healthy forests filter rainfall, reduce erosion, recharge groundwater, and help keep streams cool and clean. In a region experiencing steady growth pressure, large, unfragmented tracts like this are increasingly rare — and increasingly important.

From River to Ridge

Even more exciting is what this protection makes possible.

The Batten tract expands a growing hub of connected public and private conservation lands. Together, these protected areas are helping form a natural corridor stretching from the Cacapon River all the way to the mountaintop.

Connected landscapes mean:

• Wildlife can move safely across habitats
• Forest ecosystems remain intact
• Clean water continues flowing downstream
• Scenic views and working lands are preserved

This river-to-ridge connection strengthens one of the healthiest river systems in the greater Chesapeake Bay Watershed.

A Gift for Generations

We are proud to work with the Batten family to ensure this land remains protected — not just for today, but for generations to come.

Places like the Tea Table remind us why conservation work matters. They are living examples of what’s possible when landowners choose stewardship. When forests remain forests. When rivers remain clean. When the landscape stays whole.

Some places feel special the moment you see them.

This is one of them.

A table for giants. A gift for nature.

The post A Table for Giants: Protecting the Tea Table on Cacapon Mountain appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

While the full Cacapon Watershed Collaborative (CWC) comes together quarterly to align priorities and adapt to changing conditions, much of the real progress happens in smaller, focused working groups. These groups bring together conservation practitioners, landowners, agency staff, and partner organizations to turn shared goals into coordinated action across the watershed.

Each group focuses on a critical part of the landscape. Together, they translate science, data, and local knowledge into on-the-ground conservation that reflects both ecological needs and community realities.

Forests Working Group

Protecting the backbone of the watershed
Co-Chair: Jarred Kinlein

Forests define the Cacapon Watershed, shaping water quality, wildlife habitat, and climate resilience. The Forests Working Group focuses on conserving forest cover while promoting responsible, long-term forest management.

The group works to:

• Prevent net loss of forest cover across the watershed
• Expand forest management plans that support long-term forest health
• Improve connectivity between intact forest patches to support wildlife corridors

Group members include:
Jarred Kinlein; Herb Peddicord (Forester); Charles Copeland (WV Division of Forestry); Jeremy McGill (WV Division of Forestry); Todd Miller (The Nature Conservancy)

By coordinating expertise across agencies and conservation organizations, the group helps ensure forests remain both ecologically resilient and economically viable.

Farms Working Group

Keeping working lands working
Co-Chair: Becky Royal

Agriculture is a defining feature of the Cacapon landscape and a cornerstone of the rural economy. The Farms Working Group focuses on supporting farmers and landowners who are balancing production, stewardship, and increasing development pressure.

The group’s priorities include:

• Keeping farmland in active agricultural production
• Expanding access to technical assistance and financial support programs
• Supporting voluntary land protection strategies that help families retain ownership of their land

Group members include:
Becky Royal (USDA-NRCS); Dottie Eddis (Landowner, CLRLT); Henry Ireys (Landowner, CLRLT); Dave Parker (Farmer); Candace DeLong (WVU Extension); Julee Halterman (Farm Service Agency); Leah Bittinger (WV Conservation Agency); Chloe Smith (Farmer); Kim Dollinger (Farmer)

This group ensures that conservation strategies align with real-world agricultural needs and the long-term viability of family farms.

Streams Working Group

Restoring water quality and aquatic habitat
Co-Chair: Ryan Cooper

Healthy streams connect forests, farms, and communities throughout the watershed. The Streams Working Group focuses on improving water quality, restoring stream function, and enhancing aquatic habitat.

Key areas of work include:

• Strengthening riparian buffers to reduce erosion and runoff
• Monitoring biological indicators of stream health
• Restoring and expanding native brook trout habitat

Group members include:
Ryan Cooper (Trout Unlimited); Joel Cockerham (Conservation Institute); Maria Russo (WV Rivers Coalition / CCWC); Karli Rogers (U.S. Geological Survey); Kate Pacelli (Friends of the Cacapon River); Glenn Archer (Friends of the Cacapon River); Sam Canfield (WV Department of Environmental Protection); Mary DeWees (WV Department of Environmental Protection)

Through shared monitoring and coordinated restoration, the group helps ensure that improvements are measurable, strategic, and lasting.

Easements Working Group

Securing long-term land protection
Co-Chair: Emily Merrill

Permanent land protection plays a critical role in maintaining ecological integrity across the watershed. The Easements Working Group focuses on voluntary conservation easements that allow landowners to protect conservation values while retaining ownership.

The group works to:

• Identify high-priority lands for permanent protection
• Coordinate easement strategies across partner organizations
• Support landowners exploring long-term conservation options

Group members include:
Emily Merrill; Alison Jewell (Hampshire County Farmland Protection Board)

By aligning land protection efforts across organizations, the group helps maximize conservation impact and maintain connected, resilient landscapes.

Working Together, Across Scales

Each working group has a distinct focus, but none operates in isolation. Information flows between groups, progress is tracked against shared goals, and strategies are adjusted as conditions change. This structure allows the Collaborative to respond to immediate challenges while remaining grounded in a long-term vision for the watershed.

Just as importantly, this work is rooted in relationships. With roughly 85% of land in the watershed privately owned, conservation here depends on trust, collaboration, and respect for landowners and local communities. The working groups provide a structure where those relationships can translate into meaningful, lasting stewardship.

Interested in learning more or exploring ways to get involved? Please contact us at (304) 856-1188 or email at info@cacapon.org

The post Four Working Groups. One Shared Watershed. appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

In December 2015, longtime conservation supporter John Gavitt shared two simple photographs on Facebook. More than a decade later, he says those posts still capture exactly how he felt then – and how he feels now.

The first photo was of an arrowhead John and his wife Arlene found on their property in Frederick County while walking a familiar path that leads to Hogue Creek. It was an unusually warm winter afternoon, nearly 70 degrees, when John happened to look down and notice it lying in plain sight.

“It was just an arrowhead… but more than that,” John wrote at the time.

What struck him most, however, wasn’t the artifact itself—it was the questions it raised.

“Was it shot for practice, for game, or in anger?” he wondered. “In what century and by whom?”

The discovery sparked a wave of images and reflections about time, history, and perspective.

“We are on earth for a very short time,” John wrote. “What will we leave on earth after we’re gone? Money for relatives? Material wealth?”

For John, the answer was clear. His property is protected by a conservation easement – a permanent commitment to keeping the land undeveloped. Three neighboring landowners made the same choice, resulting in more than 500 acres protected in Frederick County.

“That arrowhead never would have been found if it had been covered by a parking lot or a shopping mall,” John reflected.

He went on to imagine a future moment – long after he’s gone – when someone might stumble across a small object he left behind in the woods and pause to wonder about its story.

“That thought is really comforting to me,” he wrote.

The second photo John shared that December was of Bridgette, one of the English setters he loved hunting with when he owned land in Hampshire County, West Virginia.

During a quail hunt, John captured an image of a still-young Bridgette locked into a perfect point, focused on a quail hidden at the base of a tree root. In the photo, Bridgette is steady and alert—just as the unseen quail remains perfectly still.

“Bridgette was steady as a rock,” John recalled, “and so was the hidden quail.”

Today, Bridgette is gone, and John no longer owns that property. But the land itself endures.

A conservation easement now protects 437 acres from future development, ensuring the landscape remains open for wildlife, recreation, and new memories yet to be made.

“The land continues to be protected,” John says, “leaving plenty of room for new memories to be held by its future owners.”

For John Gavitt, that continuity—the way land holds both history and possibility—is the truest legacy.

“I can’t think of a better way to leave this earth,” he says. “And I therefore continue to be a proud supporter of the Cacapon and Lost Rivers Land Trust.”

The post What the Land Remembers – reflections from John Gavitt appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

The Cacapon and Lost Rivers Watershed stretches across forests, farms, streams, and rural communities in eastern West Virginia. It’s a place where clean water, working lands, wildlife habitat, and people’s livelihoods are deeply connected. That interconnection is exactly why the Cacapon Watershed Collaborative exists.

The challenges facing this watershed are complex. While much of the landscape remains ecologically intact, the region sits within two hours of Washington, DC and is increasingly shaped by development pressure, land conversion, and changing economic realities for landowners—many of them small family farmers. When land is fragmented or ecosystems are degraded, the impacts ripple outward: water quality declines, habitat corridors are broken, and communities lose the natural systems that sustain them.

No single organization can address all of that alone.

The Cacapon Watershed Collaborative was formed to meet this reality head-on – by bringing together nonprofits, land trusts, government agencies, researchers, and landowners around a shared table. The goal is not to duplicate efforts, but to align them: sharing expertise, coordinating strategies, and working at the scale the watershed itself demands.

At the heart of this collaboration is the Cacapon Watershed Conservation Plan, a science-based roadmap developed through extensive research, local knowledge, and collective debate. But what makes the plan meaningful is how it’s used. The Collaborative treats it as a living document—regularly revisited, updated, and refined as conditions change and new data becomes available.

Partners meet quarterly to pause, reflect, and adapt. Smaller working groups focus on specific priorities such as forests, farms, streams, and keystone species—tracking indicators of health and translating information into action. Decisions are made by consensus, with a shared understanding that long-term stewardship requires flexibility, trust, and accountability.

Just as importantly, the Collaborative remains grounded in community. About 85% of the land in the watershed is privately owned, which means conservation here depends on relationships – with landowners, farmers, and local organizations who care deeply about their land but may lack the resources to protect it on their own. Through the Collaborative, partners provide technical assistance, education, and support that helps landowners keep land intact, productive, and resilient.

In a time when environmental challenges are increasingly interconnected – and increasingly urgent – the Cacapon Watershed Collaborative represents a different way forward. It’s not about one organization leading the way, but about many partners moving together.

In the coming weeks, we’ll be highlighting the individual organizations and agencies that make up the Collaborative – each bringing unique strengths, perspectives, and tools to this shared effort. Together, they show what’s possible when conservation is collaborative by design.

Interested in joining the Collaborative, please contact us at (304) 856-1188 or through our contact form.

The post Why the Cacapon Watershed Needs Collaboration appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

Few families embody this complexity quite as vividly as the Fryes of Wardensville. Their roots reach back to the earliest days of Virginia, when Joshua Fry – surveyor for the King of England and early mentor to a young George Washington – walked the ridges of what would later become West Virginia. The modern Frye farm sits on land that still bears the marks of that era: a towering brick farmhouse, believed to be over 200 years old, its thick walls and quiet rooms now filled with dust, light, and the faint outline of a circular carriage drive long reclaimed by the trees.

For Josh and his brother Joe, who grew up wandering those woods and fields, the land is as much a family album as it is a working farm. They remember homemade rolls and soups bubbling on a wood stove, thistles battled under summer heat, poultry sheds guarded from crafty owls, and the hearse their father once slept in to keep foxes at bay. Life on the farm was hard, but it was never dull.

It was also dangerous. Josh recounts the tragedy of the brother he never met – Henry – lost under a load of silage during harvest. Years later, Josh himself nearly died after falling beneath a tractor, pinned by the wheels and scraped raw along one side of his face. His father tried to walk away from farming after that, taking the family across the Virginia line in search of steadier work. But in the end, he could not leave.

Josh tried, too. He studied printing in college and briefly imagined a different kind of future for himself. But the pull of home – and the fear of watching farmland fall to developers – drew him back in 1990. Today he raises poultry on the homeplace, wrestling with tight margins and the constant worry that one mechanical failure could lead to catastrophic losses. Still, creativity and grit endure. Josh is now experimenting with a poultry litter burner – the first of its kind in the country – converting waste into heat and reducing reliance on propane.

Both Frye brothers know that keeping farmland intact is no small achievement. They also know the grief of watching it slip away. Their mother, raised on a South Carolina farm, was heartbroken when her own family’s land was sold for development. “That was the only time I ever saw her cry,” Josh says quietly. “She couldn’t stand to see it go.”

Stories like the Fryes’ are not uncommon here. Many who’ve left the Valley find themselves drawn back to it, pulled by memory, family, and the slower rhythm of country life. Leon and Jackie Mongold left soon after they married but returned every weekend, children in tow. Even after raising kids in the city – museums, zoos, and summer camps – both children chose rural colleges. Today, their son has settled back in Wardensville.

Even the cattle seem to get attached to this place. Local herds, now in their sixth or seventh generation, often stay within the same valleys without a fence to hold them. As farmer Kent Haines jokes, “As long as there’s something to eat, they stay.” Others, like Julian Hott, swear their cattle know the land so well they could almost be registered to vote.

In a world where agriculture is more mechanized and farm ownership more precarious, these stories remind us how rare – and fragile – the continuity of place can be. Farms like the Fryes’ survive not by accident, but through stubborn resilience, shared memory, and the conviction that land is worth holding onto.

For those who grow up here, the Valley isn’t just home – it’s inheritance. It’s identity. And for many, it’s worth every hardship.

The post Roots That Run Deep: The Pull of Home in the Cacapon Valley appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

For families like the Rudolphs, farming has never been about shortcuts. Their approach is rooted in patience and continuity: every season builds on the last, and every decision carries consequences beyond the present moment. Few farm tasks show this more clearly than making hay.

From the outside, haymaking can look deceptively simple. But beneath the hum of tractors and the sweep of balers lies a constant process of judgment. Weather patterns, soil conditions, grass varieties, and moisture levels all matter – and they rarely line up perfectly. Knowing when to act means balancing data with experience, and precision with instinct.

Mike Rudolph learned this balance the way many farmers do: by spending years alongside family, absorbing lessons that weren’t always spoken aloud. Over time, he came to understand how different grasses behave, how nutrients affect growth, and how small changes in timing can make a big difference in feed quality. The goal isn’t just to harvest hay – it’s to harvest it well.

His brother Jack spends the school year teaching, then shifts gears each summer to work the fields. Modern equipment has made the work faster and more efficient, but it hasn’t replaced the need for judgment. Technology can tell you numbers; it can’t tell you when the crop is ready. For that, farmers still walk the fields, bend down, and run the grass through their fingers. That tactile knowledge – learned slowly, often over decades – is what prevents losses, protects barns from fire risk, and ensures animals get the nutrition they need.

Efficiency on a farm also means resourcefulness. Hay is only one part of the equation. Silage – fermented corn or grass – allows farmers to get the most feed possible from each acre. Each method has its own rhythm, its own signals, its own feel. Understanding those differences is part of a larger mindset: nothing should be wasted, and everything has value if handled with care.

The land, in turn, gives back more than crops. It holds stories. The Rudolph family still talks about a winter evening long ago when their father walked miles through a blinding snowstorm to bring cattle home, relying on the instincts of the animals themselves to guide him through the dark. That journey became part of the family’s shared history – so meaningful that it’s now remembered each year with a gathering and a ride back to the Mountain Farm.

Across the property, moments like these are anchored to specific places: a ridge, an orchard, a porch. For their sister Becky, the farmhouse is inseparable from her parents’ presence – the work they shared, the meals that waited at the end of long days, and the life they shaped together. Driving up the lane is enough to bring it all back.

This is what long-term stewardship looks like. It’s not loud or flashy. It’s steady, thoughtful, and deeply personal. It lives in practiced hands, in stories told and retold, and in a commitment to leave the land better than it was found—so it can keep feeding both people and memory for generations to come.

The post Making Hay: The Quiet Intelligence of the Land appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.

Nestled at the base of Bald Knob Mountain in Hardy County, the Yankeys’ 167-acre farm is a model for working lands that protect natural resources while sustaining a viable agricultural livelihood. Since the mid-1980s, Hope and Bev have implemented conservation practices that meet and exceed the award’s criteria, which recognize individuals and groups who:

• Demonstrate an unwavering commitment to protecting natural resources, farmland, forests, and the rural heritage of the watershed.
• Engage others to improve conservation outcomes across the region.
• Provide exceptional support and counsel to the Land Trust and its mission.
• Maintain strong standing within the community and their field.

A Legacy of Conservation Leadership

The Yankeys’ conservation journey began soon after Hope purchased the farm at the headwaters of the Lost River in 1981. By the mid-1980s, they were installing one of the region’s early sets of water-protection practices—spring-fed watering systems paired with livestock exclusion fencing to protect streams.

In the early 1990s, they launched a comprehensive effort to balance productive agriculture with ecological restoration. Their work has included:

• Regenerative soil and grazing management: Reducing herd size, limiting stocking density, and rotating sheep and cattle to promote pasture diversity, reduce parasites, and restore soil health.
• Waterway and habitat protection: Removing livestock from streams, ponds, and forested areas; leaving snag and mast trees; adding wildlife escape ramps to water facilities; and delaying mowing to protect nesting wildlife.
• Pollinator and wildlife habitat creation: Planting native grasses and wildflowers, erecting bird houses, practicing edge-feathering, and creating brush and wood piles for small animal cover.

Most recently, the Yankeys have undertaken large-scale restoration and reforestation projects. In 2022–2023, with support from the Natural Resources Conservation Service, Farm Service Agency, and Trout Unlimited, they planted 1,050 hardwood trees and 40 pines across 22 acres that were better suited to forest than agriculture. In 2024, Trout Unlimited constructed 10 in-stream log structures and helped plant additional trees and 55 native shrubs to restore stream function and riparian habitat.

Today, Hope and Bev are working with the Land Trust on a permanent land protection agreement to safeguard their farm and the Lost River headwaters for generations to come—a step that reflects both their long-term vision and the spirit of the Conservation Champion award.

Community Engagement and Regional Impact

The Yankeys are not only practitioners of conservation, they are teachers and advocates. Since 2018, they have mentored a young couple in sheep-rearing and gradually transitioned their farming operation to them. They regularly host farm tours and educational visits to demonstrate conservation practices firsthand and connect landowners with agencies who can help them adopt similar strategies.

In May 2025, Hope joined Land Trust staff in Washington, D.C., speaking during Land Trust Alliance Advocacy Days about the urgent need to protect West Virginia’s farmland, wildlife habitat, and rural communities. Her lifelong dedication to the land has made her a tireless voice for conservation statewide.

“We cherish this place and its way of life,” Hope says. “Protecting it is both our responsibility and our joy.”

About the Award

The Cacapon Conservation Champion Award recognizes individuals, groups, and nonprofits whose actions significantly advance conservation across the Cacapon and Lost Rivers watershed. Recipients embody the core values of stewardship, community engagement, and partnership with the Land Trust. Hope and Bev Yankey exemplify these values in every facet of their work.

The post Hope and Bev Yankey of Hardy County Named 2025 Cacapon Conservation Champions appeared first on Cacapon & Lost Rivers Land Trust.