Mike,
Ramps should be the West Virginia state flower. Or, maybe, the Mayapple:
You can't eat Rhododenrons! In West Virginia, folks would go out in the woods and find stuff to eat (some still do) and survive. The state flower should reflect that.
When I was a kid and out off the main roads, there were always old cars parked along the road ... no houses around. Whoever owned those cars had some small farm back over the hill or up some hollow. Probably had to cross the creek, maybe on a swinging footbridge, and walk.
Most of those cars were not Fords or Chevrolets, they were usually old Plymouths or Dodges as I remember. Those cars weren't particularly pretty but West Virginia was hard-living ... while I always was attracted to the Ford flathead V8, it did not enjoy the best reputation for reliability. Those old Mopars were like ramps; they were there, they got you through the tough times, and you were thankful for them.
Didn't mean for Mike and me to start reminiscing, but things do get connected. I bought my present 1935 Ford coupe out of West Virginia, and that has a special meaning for me. Cars have histories. I'm amazed by the ones that survived the extended poverty of Appalachia.
( ... good thing I didn't mention digging ginseng to Mike. It's the state root.)