There's an ongoing discussion on the best way to improve the economy in some of eastern Kentucky's smaller, more distressed counties.
Some prefer a more traditional approach involving manufacturing and other familiar means. Others are advocates for tourism, particularly what's called "adventure tourism," as the best way forward to provide jobs and pump dollars into local coffers.
The debates over subjects such as allowing all-terrain vehicles on public roads, Sunday alcohol sales, and the possible development of a resort near Natural Bridge State Resort Park and the Red River Gorge have caused some hard feelings to emerge between proponents and opponents of those proposals.
Something needs to be done. All the media reports of a booming economy sound like fake news to many residents of the foothills and mountains. We're still waiting for the good times to arrive here. Our unemployment rates still run above national and state averages, our wages are still lower than what others earn, and prices for consumer goods like gasoline and grocery are much higher in our small towns and rural counties than they are elsewhere. We don't begrudge our friends and neighbors in the bigger cities their success. It's not a zero-sum game. There's plenty to go around. We'd just like to have a taste of it ourselves.
No matter which path local leaders take, this region has a couple of valuable assets already in place that could benefit both a production-based or tourism-based economy. Unfortunately, both of those assets are suffering from neglect and likely can never be used to their full potential.
What are they? The railroad and the river. Both have played vital roles in this area's past. But unless something's done soon, they are going to become only historical artifacts. One's pretty much already there; the other appears well on the way.
First, let's look at the railroad. The old L&N line was a major factor in the past success of the region. The railroad provided lots of jobs for people all the way from Winchester to Whitesburg. Although passenger service was long gone, the line remained a vital link from the mountains to the flatlands, with tons of coal being hauled well into the 2000s. Things have changed. The Kentucky River line has basically been mothballed. Most of the tracks in the yard in Estill County have been removed. CSX Transportation, which bought out L&N a few decades ago, is now using the tracks to store old rail cars that will eventually be cut up for scrap metal. What coal is being hauled out of the mountains now goes up the line paralleling the Big Sandy River, via a connection CSX made in Letcher County between the old L&N and C&O lines. Many of the historic depots have been torn down. CSX continues to maintain the tracks, but they aren't seeing any use other than when junk cars are hauled out and more are brought in to take their place.
The railroad could play a big part in both a production economy and a tourism economy. Not as much coal is being mined these days, but loggers are still cutting plenty of timber in the hills. Log trucks are notorious for tearing up highways. What if logs were moved by rail instead of highway? The new methods of petroleum drilling haven't made it to eastern Kentucky the way it has in neighboring West Virginia, but there's no reason oil or liquefied natural gas couldn't be moved by rail as well should there be another oil boom such as the area experienced in the early 1900s and again in the 1970s and 80s.
There's been talk of establishing tourist trains to take visitors from the Bluegrass area into the mountains. The opening of the Kentucky Rail Heritage Center in Ravenna ties into that idea nicely. Restoration of the existing depot buildings such as the one still standing in Beattyville could allow for a place for such an excursion train to stop on its way to Jackson, Hazard, and beyond. Imagine a passenger train heading into the hills, meeting a train still carrying coal or timber? It would be the best of both worlds, with railroad tourists revisiting the past while seeing that the rail line can remain a vital commercial link.
While the railroad is salvageable, the Kentucky River is beyond hope. The locks and dams that once made the river navigable up to and a bit beyond the spot where the North and South Forks meet in Beattyville have been closed, and in many cases, sealed. None of the locks beyond Frankfort are operational, and it's doubtful they could ever be put back in working order. Decades of malignant neglect, first by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and later the Commonwealth of Kentucky, rendered one of the area's great assets useless.
There were great hopes for Beattyville shortly after Lee County was founded in 1870. History books tell of grand dreams in which the town would become a natural resource capital and grow to possibly be the size of New York or Boston. Although loggers floated timber down the river to downstream mills, the hopes of growth for the town at the beginning of the river's main stem never materialized.
Now, it would be impossible not only for anything to be shipped downriver, but also for tourists to make the journey. Passenger boats are unable to make their way from the confluence down through the Palisades to the Ohio. Back before the locks were closed, a group of river advocates used to make an annual journey from Beattyville down to Frankfort to bring awareness to the stream's value to the communities through which it passes. Now, boats can only ply the pools in which they're launched.
There's a great tourist market that's gone forever unless the state somehow opens the locks back up. Imagine boarding a boat in Beattyville and heading through the rural countryside until you reach Irvine, then continuing on past historic Boonesborough, Clays Ferry and Valley View, Camp Nelson, the Wild Turkey distillery, tthrough the Palisades and under High Bridge, until you arrive at the capital city. Or how about the trip in reverse? Folks from the Bluegrass could take a boat tour along the river and end up at its origin, enjoying the views and the history made along the stream.
The state still operates the locks between Frankfort and Carrollton -- is anyone surprised -- but everything beyond Lock 5 near Lawrenceburg isn't really a river anymore, but instead is a series of long, narrow lakes. Kayakers and canoe operators can take their crafts out of the water and walk around most of the dams, but those in bigger boats are stuck where they are unless they want to load their boats up on their trailers and drive to a launching ramp in the next pool.
The river and the railroad are valuable assets for the communities through which they pass. Full use is probably gone forever for one of them. Locals need to fight to ensure the other remains viable. Surely, no matter what avenue we want our economic future to travel, all can agree that the river and the railroad are worthy of use and preservation.
