Yorktown, Petersburg, and Old Confederate Cemeteries
I was gonna do some big write up about the CSA, but I guess I don’t care that much. Going to the south is like going to a foreign country where they speak English. They have their own history and aristocracy and culture and symbols and clearly none of these are mine/yours (unless you’re from there, I imagine).
And for as extremely polite as they are to your face, southerners are the most impolite drivers in the country. There, it’s been said.
Meanwhile, cool battlefields and cemeteries:
This is an artillery piece from the Yorktown National Battlefield. For as important a battle as it was (it was the last major action in the Revolutionary War), there wasn’t a whole lot to look at. OTOH, the movie was informative and didn’t make me hate George Washington like Mt. Vernon’s did.
Some monument commemorating the battle. The setting is pretty, fwiw. I’d rather have died of a musket shot here than most places.
This artillery is from the Petersburg National Battlefield. There was a lot to see there. It was sort of the South’s last hope at keeping the North out of their one industrial center in Richmond. Was struck by how similar the tactics here were to those employed in World War I (a lot of trenches, stalemates, and unfortunate runs across no-man’s lands). Also thought that the whole thing with the Pennsylvanian miners digging tunnels under the Confederate lines in order to blow them up with dynamite was pretty cool, even if it wasn’t decisive or anything.
On a side-note, Petersburg is as run-down a town as I’ve ever visited, but otoh lunch specials at the Chinese place in town were under $6. There may be a correlation.
Here’s what the Blandford Cemetery looks like:
It was kind of cool. The church there was, after the war, turned into a “memorial chapel”. The Tiffany Company donated stained glass windows for it, with one window for each state that was aligned with the South (including Missouri and Maryland). I pointed out to the tour guide that the windows’ backgrounds corresponded with the actual direction you were facing (e.g., the western windows had mountains in the background, eastern had ocean), which apparently had never occurred to her. Maybe they don’t get many visitors.
Her: That *could* be what it is.
Me: Well, the sun is rising over the ocean in the eastern windows.
Her: Or is it setting?
Me: Assuming that’s the east, I hope it’s rising.
Although it’d be interesting if the earth started spinning the other direction. Kudos to her for keeping that dream alive.
Jefferson Davis’s grave:
Seems weird he was buried in Richmond rather than in Mississippi, where he was a senator. I dunno, whatever. He moved around a lot.
The cemetery is called the Hollywood Cemetery. There are some CSA generals buried there, IIRC, and a couple of forgettable US presidents as well. They also have this:
You just don’t hear much about the Jewish Confederate experience.
Monroe and Tyler Too were the presidents. I guess there are more forgettable ones out there.
And then driving out of Richmond, I cruised down Monument Boulevard, which includes monuments to six of Richmond’s favorite sons (most of whom were not from Richmond):
- (Gen.) Robert E. Lee
- (Gen.) J.E.B. Stuart
- (Pres.) Jefferson Davis
- (Gen.) “Stonewall” Jackson
- Matthew Fontaine Maury (renowned oceanographer (?!) and Confederate “Chief of Sea Coast, River and Harbor Defences” in Virginia)
- Arthur Ashe (the tennis player)
One of these kids is not like the others. Nice houses on the street, though. A lot of statues of guys on horses. One statue of a guy with a tennis racket.
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The Museum and White House of the Confederacy
Main reasons for going to Richmond: (1) I’d meant to spend a day there on my road trip last year, but it got squeezed out; (2) $36 a night at a newly renovated Holiday Inn. Also it was within a six-and-a-half-hour driving radius from Pgh (barely). Plus there’s nothing to do there that requires you to use your hands to grab stuff.
That’s the White House of the Confederacy. The exterior is pretty unprepossessing. The side shown above is actually the back — the front is plainer. Supposedly the back was done up more because it’s the side that faces the (James) river and the place where guests would have hung out. Richmond city planners didn’t exactly go out of their way to preserve the “sanctity” of the location. The brick hospital that surrounds it on all sides is one of the uglier hospital complexes I’ve ever seen in my life.
For that matter, Richmond’s an aesthetically disappointing city generally. The topography should lend itself to something cool, but it hasn’t happened. Probably because all the good stuff got destroyed in the war (although they’ve had 145 years to recover).
The white house is a nice mansion. The stuff inside was cool. Plenty of smoking parlors, very tasteful. George Eastman and I could’ve hung out there and felt at ease, although I guess we both probably would’ve been weirded out by the slaves there. The tour guide looked like he was half-man, half-bloodhound, but he knew the heck out of that mansion, Richmond, Jefferson Davis, and the Confederacy. And fwiw, Davis didn’t really live here very long. Three years IIRC.
It also didn’t cost much compared to less historically-relevant mansions (I think the museum + mansion ticket was $12; I mean, not *cheap*, but not hilariously awful either).
The museum was all right-to-good. It didn’t hammer home the Civil War story of the Confederacy like I thought it would — mostly just short write-ups on key battles posted next to displays of flags and uniforms. They had some cool artwork that I liked though. I think this is the most famous Confederate painting that exists:
Depicts the last meeting of Generals Lee and Jackson — before Jackson died from pneumonia at Spotsylvania.
My favorite part of the museum, though, was the more proletariat-focused art. Like this:
These are just a couple of pencil sketches done by some confederate soldier. I’m guessing they’re depicting one of the better days in camp (fishing with your buddies, hanging out by the fire smoking your pipe), but I think it explains a whole lot more about the Civil War experience than does Stonewall’s revolver — not just in terms of content, but in terms of perspective. It also supports my thesis on humanity that even the most horrendous situations become normal to people over time. Yep.
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Fort Necessity and George Washington
“Fort Necessity” is arguably the answer to the question of “Where did George Washington become George Washington?” No one ever asks that, but maybe they should. Definitely they should.
It’s where George Washington sort of took over from aristocratic old-school British General Edward Braddock in the French and Indian War. Supposedly Washington also sort of helped spark the war by leading an attack on a different French fort. And at some point Washington decided he needed to build a fort or else his guys would be unprotected from the French (ergo: “Fort Necessity”), and so this happened:
Soldiers were smaller back then — to them, this was palatial.
The pathway for tourists was not original to the fort. I’m not convinced these are the original earthworks, either. “Unprepossessing” was the word that kept coming to mind.
I mean, if you were to claim that the French and Indian War is the event that precipitated the American Revolution and that George Washington’s sort of chicken move on the position of a nation that his wasn’t at war with yet was indeed the start of the French and Indian War, then this is a really important historical location. Anyway. Valley Forge and Bunker Hill better name recognition; that’s tough to fight. Plus there’s nothing to see here.
The fort lies along US 40, aka “The National Highway”. This was a highway originally dreamed up by George Washington, who, as I learned at Mt. Vernon, is responsible for everything good in the world. That Pat Sajack movie at Mt. Vernon really made me dislike George Washington, who apparently looked like a 50-year-old when he was 30. Different trip to Virginia though. Highway was meant to connect stuff east of the Alleghenies to stuff west of them (i.e., The Ohio Valley). I think that just because he started the French and Indian War, ol’ G-Dub had to make out like the Ohio Valley was super-important.
I probably like George Washington. That movie at Mt. Vernon really sucked though. Whatever. There’s an old tavern that’s on the same parks service site as the fort.
I didn’t go on the tour, so I don’t know if this tavern’s actually important. The highway was sort of important in that it actually got built whereas the canal system never quite made it. Not long after they finished the highway, though, the railroads made it obsolete. Except that now if you want to drive from Pittsburgh to Richmond, it’s useful again. Everything’s cyclical.
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Driving from Pittsburgh to Northern Virginia
And back. Uh, here, this is sort of interesting:
The car overstates its mileage by a little bit, but still, 51.1 for a 217-mile ride is probably as good as it’s ever going to get. And, uh — yeah, shoot, I got nothing. Here:
- There are about 18 different ways to get to the DC/NoVa area that all take about the same length of time. On the way down, I took scenic Highway 51, eventually routing through Uniontown, Cumberland, and Winchester. Took 4:15, got 51.1 mpg.
- On the way back, I took the Cadillac route: interstates all the way, including the fantastic Pennsylvania Turnpike: 4:15. And 20 extra miles or so and only 46.8 mpg.
- The car overstates mpg by 2-3 points.
- When I got off the dumb toll road, the tollbooth lady told me it’d be $7.25, so I handed her a ten, two ones, and a quarter and she says, “Did you know you gave me $12.25?”. I had no comeback for that.
- If I hadn’t known, would she have denied it ever happened and then not given me the five back? We’ll never know. We’ll never know.
- The hotel I stayed in for $40/night (plus 20-percent tax) was a real-live, genuine three-star Hilton Garden Inn.
- While I was there, I went to the Udvar-Hazy part of the National Air & Space Museum, the National Museum of the Marine Corps (they had some new stuff there), Mt. Vernon, and the National Firearms Museum.
- People who leave Yelp reviews for Bethesda, Md. restaurants are kind of catty. I’m not speaking of myself. Yet.
- I should have taken the Reader’s Digest book of road trips so I could have hit some highlights on the return trip. There appear to be a lot of forts, battlefields, historic transportation sites, and houses built over waterfalls.
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Arrival, Move Day 4 (Terre Haute to Pittsburgh)
- It was only 7 1/2 hours on Day 4.
- If I’d had running lights on the trailer, this really could have been a three-day trip — it was about 40 hours total.
- Ohio has nice rest stops. I mean almost shockingly nice.
- The Ohio River Valley (WVa in particular) is pretty.
- You can get really good hotel deals out at the airport via hotwire and priceline (Holiday Inn = $40/night).
- The house was here when I got here and mostly how I remembered it.
Anti-climactic, I know. Here’s a photo of Pittsburgh from Carson Street.
Bis später,
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This Missouri Compromise, Move Day 3 (Dodge City to Terre Haute)
I didn’t make any compromises in Missouri. Unless just not stopping is considered a compromise. Come to think of it, I *did* come to a complete stop on the 270 (freeway north of St. Louis) a few times, but that was just because of traffic. And there was a ‘94 Corolla that just about compromised the front end of my truck — that was also near St. Louis.
Got out of Dodge (har!) around 7, bought gas in Olathe, Kan., then again in Greenville, Ill. Mileage is off a little bit (15 and 16), but still, I’m averaging 16 for the trip and if you had told me a week ago I’d be getting 16 mpg pulling a fully laden trailer, I’d have been, you know, pleasantly surprised.
Here’s a photo I took since photos make everything better:
Although maybe not this particular photo so much.
Also:
- I think crossing Kansas is probably more interesting than crossing Nebraska. It’s a low-set bar, yes, but in Nebraska everything’s awful until you hit Lincoln. In Kansas, things start getting a little greener and hillier around Hutchinson, which beats Lincoln by over a full degree of longitude, ergo Kansas ftw.
- 742 miles total.
- There seems to be a Pabst Blue Ribbon-drinkers convention going on at the Days Inn in Terre Haute tonight. Possibly also tomorrow, I’m not sure.
- Driving through Southern Illinois is more pleasant than driving through northern. It’s like an extended remix of eastern Kansas and there’s no rat’s nest of under-construction tollways to navigate.
- And it’s looking like I’ll be able to finish the trip without having paid a single toll.
- Missouri’s a pretty state to look at from the freeway..
- Except that I-70 from Kansas City to St. Louis is choked with semi-trucks. They dissipate once you hit St. Lou, but till then, man!
And now there are only 7 1/2 more driving hours till I reach the job site. Hopefully I can get water, power, and gas activated on Friday.
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Bloody Kansas, Move Day 2 (Holbrook to Dodge City)
That’s right, Kansas. More importantly:
- I’ve lost my sunflower seed inner-cheek callous. There will be a few more days of pain as the tissues rebuild.
- Got on the road before 6 this morning.
- Covered 697 miles today.
- If you want to know what a place looks like *right before* it turns into a ghost town, I recommend taking a drive down Main Street in Tucumcari, N.M.
- When you put a lot of cattle together in one place, it doesn’t smell very good.
- One day I will write a critique of American drivers. It will be entitled Brave Enough to Tailgate, Too Scared to Pass. There will be at least one chapter dedicated to Arizona.
- Mileage: 15, 19 (!). The 15 was driving primarily uphill and the 19 primarily downhill. But still. My truck seems to appreciate being given a real truck job to do. It handles the trailer like a champ.
- Bought gas in Gallup and Santa Rosa.
- Having now been to Dodge City, I realize I may not have given Deadwood enough credit.
- I’m surprised by how much of Mexico currently resides in southwestern Kansas.
Behold, the once-wild West!:
Dodge City’s Boot Hill, aka the parking lot next to Applebee’s.
I’m also impressed that New Mexico’s rest area authority is so interested in voice-of-customer data:
We refers to “men”, I imagine.
I didn’t vote. It looked like there were germs on the buttons.
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Big Move, Day 1 (San Diego to Holbrook)
It begins!
That’s my truck(’s shadow).
Miles Driven: 521
Gas Mileage: 16 (!) — kind of ridiculous. It’s the same mileage I got on the cross-country road trip, only this time I got the bed of the truck full to the gills and am pulling 2,000 lbs. worth of crap in a U-Haul trailer that’s older than I am. Next time I take a 22,000-mile road trip, I gotta make sure the tires are inflated I guess.
Best Song: Johnny Cash’s “Man In Black” seemed really good when it came on. I think Johnny Cash probably just sounds good on road trips though.
Best Stretch of Road: Hwy 260 from Payson, Ariz. to Heber, Ariz. Awesome roadscape, kind of reminded me of the area around Flagstaff (I guess that kind of makes sense). Mountains, tall trees, reddish rocks, surprising road-side lakes — really pretty drive. Couple pics (cell phone while driving):
There was construction.
Best Thing Consumed: The Del Taco in Yuma was a little disappointing, but then the Indian reservation convenience store in Mesa had Code Red on tap and, man, I’d forgotten how good fountain Code Red was.
What My Rig Looks Like:
Also sort of what my brother’s driveway looks like.
Next Up!: I dunno. I’m thinking I’ll go ahead and add an hour to the trip (taking it from 38 hours driving to 39) and head up into Kansas instead of running through Amarillo and Oklahoma-OK again. Haven’t driven through much of Kansas (I’m sure it’s fascinating). Maybe Salina tomorrow night? Couldn’t find any blown fuses this morning that would explain why the running lights on the trailer don’t work, so I’m trying not to drive in the dark, which is kind of constraining.
And I might change my mind in the morning and just try to make it to OKC. Mal sehen.
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Spooky Gulch, Peek-a-Boo Gulch, and Dry Fork Hike
I was told that I had to do the “beginner” slot canyons along the Hole-in-the-Rock Road once in my life. They’re tourist hikes, thus the reluctance. If not for that, they’re pretty fantastic (was the gist).
They were pretty fantastic and there were a lot of tourists. Frex, here’s half of the parking lot:
It’s showing fewer than half the cars that were there. Kind of amazing given that you’re driving 28 miles down a washboardy dirt road. OTOH, the Prius made it, so it’s obviously not a big hurdle.
When I got there, there was a huge family group just heading down the trail. It was grandma’s birthday. Probably 40 people ranging from age 0 to maybe 80. The posted maximum group size is 12. They wore a lot of University of Utah gear. Draw your own conclusions. Mine involves West Valley City, one of those 2 1/2-year missions to Russia, and a ward where there is no Sunday school.
Headed down the trail:
You can actually see the entrance to Peek-a-Boo Gulch in that photo, but you’d have to know what you’re looking for. It’s just a fold in the rock, about halfway up and 25% over from the left. Waldo and so forth. Here’s what it (the opening) looks like zoomed in:
It goes toward the left. Anyway.
Catherine at the B&B had given me instructions that involved starting the loop by going up Peek-a-Boo. By the time I got down there, though, I’d caught up to The Family Group and, thinking that a narrow slot canyon might decrease the usual joy I receive at listening to the cries of a hundred ten-year-olds, I kept going toward Spooky Gulch.
Which, after the fact, I think was better anyway. It’s narrower, but a whole lot easier to get into.
Here’s the one place I had to get down on hands and knees and crawl along the dirt like a common lizard:
And then things got narrower.
So I think that was the narrowest spot in the canyon. I had to walk through their sideways and, even doing so, the rock walls were compressing my chest as I slid through. It’d probably be less dramatic if you squatted down a little bit, but I didn’t do that. (I had to take the backpack off in order to fit through sideways.)
This would kind of be a bad hike if you were claustrophobic. Or, like, stout.
After a while, you come to parts of the slot where you have to scramble a little. Here’s one:
Not sure if the photo captures it, but you’re trying to squeeze through some tight spaces while climbing up “steps” that are chest-high and not crack your head open in the process. It’s kind of fun. Here’s another little hole I had to climb through (photo taken after climbing):
While you’re walking through the gulch, there are some spots where the sun gets down to the bottom of the slot, others where you can’t see the sky. It’s interesting. The rock formations are cool and weird, Seussian even.
Oh, and it’s sort of awkward (especially in Spooky Gulch) when you hear someone coming down the canyon when you’re going up. There aren’t a lot of convenient passing locations.
Not too long after the arch, you exit Spooky and you’re up on a flat, red-sand plain. According to the directions I got from the B&B hostess, I needed to turn left at a right angle and keep walking until I found Peek-a-Boo Gulch. Catherine, the hostess, suggested that I err on cutting the angle too acutely rather than too obliquely, since if I missed the end of the slot I’d end up wandering through the desert for a couple weeks before probably dying.
Here’s what the route between the gulches looks like:
I figured that so long as I followed the footsteps, at least I’d see where other people had died of dehydration before doing so myself. Didn’t work out that way, of course. Here’s the top of Peek-a-Boo Gulch (close to the top anyway):
So, yeah, then you basically just go down there. Peek-a-Boo Gulch isn’t quite as narrow as Spooky, but it’s got a few more unusual features. Here’s a hairpin turn I thought was cool:
Yep. Then here’s a cool arch+light situation:
It’s kind of hard to get into good positions to take photos in there sometimes. Here’s a bridge overhead:
And then you’re just about at the bottom of Peek-a-Boo, where it gets kind of interesting. There are a couple of big pot holes that you have to either long-jump or climb down and back up. Fortunately there were some people around there so that when my long jump fell a little short I got a hand-up so I didn’t have to retreat down into the mud. These potholes are positioned between some pretty cool arches:
And then this is how Peek-a-Boo ends. Or how it begins if you start here:
So it’s pretty close to straight up from where I’m standing to where the green jacket guy is, and then it’s pretty much straight down from where I’m standing to the bottom of that wall. And at this point, I was wondering how it is that this is such a *tourist* hike. Seems like a lot of narrow squeezes, pull-ups, having to trust your entire weight to the friction between the soles of your boots and a near-vertical wall, and stuff like that to be such a tourist hike. Oh well. Maybe it’d be way more crowded without those features. Or maybe way less.
Catherine also suggested heading up Dry Fork as sort of a cool-down after Spooky and Peek-a-Boo. It was nice, not nearly as dramatic, but: nice.
It does open up a little better and let a little more light in, though.
Then once you get to the top of Dry Fork, you head cross-country looking for the parking lot.
Really cool experience, something I hadn’t done before, worth doing, etc.
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Snow on the Hoodoos: The Bryce Canyon Story
When I was at the Capitol Reef visitor center last November, apparently some sort of 2010 Southern Utah calendar had come out and one of the rangers had just gotten ahold of one. Speaking to the woman running the bookstore, she said, “Why do they always show Bryce for their winter pictures? The other parks look good in winter too! But I guess not as good as Bryce.”
It’s spring now, but anyway:
