PROFILE
what Gene calls “subversive positive social change,” they raised two wonderful kids and had a hand in the personal and professional growth of countless other folks of all ages. The Kistlers, along with business partner and local climbing hero Kenny Parker, recently sold Water Stone Outdoors to new owners. Maura and Gene are now heading into the adventure of retirement, undoubtedly marking the end of an era and the start of a new one. I’ve been wanting to profile Maura for a long time and thought this transition marked the perfect opportunity to have a wonderful and inspiring discussion about her long, strange, and fantastical trip through life in West Virginia. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
What’s your coming to WV story? I had Midwestern roots for sure. I was born in the North Side of Chicago. I lived in Illinois, Iowa, Kentucky. I graduated high school in Miami (Florida) and ended up at the University of Virginia, where I met Gene in my fourth year. Gene introduced me to rock climbing, though I had already firmly identified as an outdoor girl. We started climbing here in 1985. We were living in Charlottesville and going to Seneca Rocks almost every weekend.
Do you remember your first time climbing at Seneca?
By Dylan Jones I walked into Water Stone Outdoors in Fayetteville as a budding climber way back in 2010 to buy a harness and my first pair of climbing shoes. New to both the climbing scene and Fayetteville, I was instantly enamored with the hip little town and the cool gear store in which I stood. I was greeted by an athletic woman whose personality stood far larger than her svelte frame. She was stoked that I was there; she was interested in my background. But more importantly, she made me feel like I belonged. Little did I know that this woman, Maura Kistler, part-owner of the store, was a local celebrity in more ways than one. This interaction marked the beginning of my love affair with rock climbing and the New River Gorge, a place I spent the next decade visiting constantly, even spending one year living in a tent while working as a climbing guide. During this period, I, like so many others, formed a great friendship with Maura and her husband Gene. They were kind, welcoming, and still somehow possess endless positive energy. Maura and Gene were some of the first outdoorsy folks to set roots in Fayetteville and, along with other dedicated visionaries, poured their hearts and souls into cultivating the unmistakable flavor of the “coolest small town.” While they built their business and fomented 44 HIGHLAND OUTDOORS
SPRING 2022
How did you discover the New River Gorge? Bruce Burgin, an early climber from Beckley, had taken a series of 8x10 black-and-white photos of the New River Gorge. He put them in a notebook and left it on the counter of the Gendarme and said, “You guys need to come down here to look at this shit.” It was an endless wall of climbing routes, basically an appetite whetter, and we started going to the gorge and camping under the bridge. It was nuts! At first, I was reluctant on the idea of switching to the gorge because I missed Seneca and hanging on the Gendarme porch. I was less motivated by first ascents and more motivated by hanging out, and there wasn’t a social scene at the gorge yet.
Do you recall your first visit to the New River Gorge? What I remember was that prelapsarian aspect to the deep woods that seemed very raw and rugged and new and fresh. I remember it feeling really wild. We would go hang out on the bridge. We’d sneak out underneath it and crawl all through it. That was our entertainment. Fayetteville was shut down and boarded-up. There was the Western Pancake House and the Okay Corral and Ben Franklin—that was it. There wasn’t a year-round outdoor community at all; the only year-rounders were the raft company owners. But I don’t want any of what I’m saying to be seen from the vacuum of the outdoor
Molly Wolff
MAURA KISTLER
Oh, I remember all my moments at Seneca because they usually involved crying. I’ve cried on every belay ledge at Seneca Rocks. I remember being on the second ledge of Ecstasy, I am 1,000-percent safe, but I’m in a panic and it’s freezing cold and I’m bawling. I didn’t take to climbing easily; I had to earn all my comfort. And Seneca is great for that, of course. I still call Seneca my home crag; I just love that place.
