In Botetourt County, the James River forms

The James River begins behind Charlie Gibson's house.

That would be in northern Botetourt County, beyond the Blue Ridge Mountains, about 240 miles west of Richmond as the river flows and about three hours by car.

There, the pristine Cowpasture River joins the far-from-pristine Jackson River to create the James.

In Hampton Roads, where the James ends, the mighty river is flat and 5 miles wide. In Richmond, it is full of boulders and roaring rapids. A short walk behind Gibson's house, it is a rippling mountain stream, lined by sycamores and mimosas and serenaded on a recent morning by song sparrows.

Not a building in sight.

Gibson and his brother Clyde own 40 acres that include a quarter-mile along the Jackson and James. The land has been in the family since the 1700s.

Standing at the confluence, the 68-year-old Gibson revealed a pet peeve.

"I've seen some government books, history books, that said the head of the James is in Alleghany County," Gibson said. "That's bull."

The Alleghany line lies about a mile to the north, at Iron Gate (population: 400 or so).

The 348-mile James often is called the longest river that runs entirely within a single state. But the start of the James is low-key, kind of humble. There is no plaque, no public landing, no yearly festival.

In fact, it's tough to find the place unless someone directs you to Gibson's property -- 146 Head of the James -- and he lets you on.

"A lot of people don't know where it's at," said Iron Gate Mayor Alan Williams, looking casual at the town hall in denim shorts and a blue golf shirt.

For nearly 20 years, a sign at Iron Gate said, "Gateway to the James." But the sign was replaced about six years ago with one saying, "Gateway to the Highlands," a plug for the region.

Iron Gate is sort of a mountain Mayberry. "People still kind of look after each other here," Williams said. "You can come in here and buy a nice house for fifty-, sixty-thousand dollars."

. . .

And enjoy some lovely scenery. The area looks and feels a lot like nearby West Virginia -- steep green hills, shady hollows, blue skies, low humidity.

Visitors looking for the start of the James often make their way to Iron Gate Postmaster Velma Lilly.

"Quite a few people will stop in and say, 'Where can I find this? We know it starts in here somewhere, but where?'"

You sense that locals don't get excited about the start of the James. It's like that museum near your house -- you're glad it's there, but you never go.

On the other hand, people are definitely proud of the Cowpasture.

"It's the cleanest river in the state of Virginia," said Jessie Patterson, 62, who lives just up the river in a place called McKinney's Hollow, next to a 113-year-old, one-lane, steel-truss bridge.

After chatting a while, Patterson cranked up his 60-something Farmall tractor and cut his grass while his dog, a little Australian blue heeler, expressed its affection for the Cowpasture by taking a swim.

Downstream, in a small Cowpasture park near the start of the James, a passel of humans did the same. "It's almost like being in a hot tub, free of charge," Carrie Washington, 50, called out from the river.

The 82-mile-long Cowpasture is bordered by forests, farms and a few homes. No factories or sewage plants dump waste into it. At the park, you can stand chest-deep and see the bottom.

It's a different story at the other river that helps form the James.

A 25-mile stretch of the Jackson from Covington to the James has endured a bad reputation for a long time, in part because of waste discharges from a MeadWestvaco paper mill at Covington.

But the mill and the river have gotten a lot cleaner during the past 20 years. The company has spent about $400,000 to reduce the amount of pollution it discharges and to lighten the color of its brown wastewater.

"The Jackson has improved tremendously," said Greg Anderson, a state employee who helps monitor water quality in that region.

Jenny Anderson, a town hall intern who is not related to Greg, said, "I know someone who ate [a fish from the Jackson] last week and didn't nothing happen to him. We were telling him he was going to glow and turn green."

. . .

Despite the improvements, the state lists the Jackson from Covington to the James as "impaired," or polluted.

On the plus side, the first 20 miles of the James, listed for years as polluted, were declared clean in 2008 because the water from the Jackson had gotten so much better.

Back on Charlie Gibson's land, the retired factory technician recalled the Jackson of the 1960s and 1970s.

"It looked almost like black coffee with white foam on top of it," Gibson said. If he wanted to swim, he waded over to the Cowpasture.

Gibson acknowledged that the Jackson is cleaner now. "But if you catch that sun just right, you can still see where the clear Cowpasture comes down and the two merge together and they stay separated for a while down through there."

As Gibson walked back to his house on a path through the trees, he stepped onto a little rise and pointed back, and you could see it. Where the James began, light-colored water from the Cowpasture flowed beside darker water from the Jackson, almost like Bass ale beside Guinness.

Eventually, the rivers and their colors blended.

More than 200 miles downriver, in Richmond, many people love the James and swim in it. Others consider it dirty.

What else would you expect? The James is, after all, just the sum of its parts.

Contact Rex Springston at (804) 649-6453 or .