A cold, rainy day. I am suddenly the only guest in this campground. Drove into Kentucky to get food, past towering rock walls that loom menacingly over the road. At an overlook, I managed to get one picture of the Russell Fork River through the mist before my phone ran out of battery.

Back at the camper, the heat is on and the dogs are snuggled in together.

Russ tells me there is a chance of snow (!) tonight.

Driving from Stony Fork to Breaks, I was plunged from rolling, open farmland into deep, narrow mountain valleys, and I realized I wasn’t just crossing the Appalachians, I was driving through Appalachia—a very different thing entirely. As I passed grimy coal mining towns with their Dollar Generals, Pentecostal churches, and billboards for addiction services, I wondered what living in such a place, where the horizon was barely wider than your shoulders, would do to your view of the world.

Breaks Interstate Park was created the year I was born (1954), and is administered by both VA and KY jointly. It has LOTS of hiking trails, a small lake, and spectacular views of the surrounding area.

Trails can change in a blink from this:

To this:

And the Geological Trail takes you through some truly amazing rock formations:

It was great to be able to Zoom in to church this morning for Easter Sunday, and to see and hear my choir buddies. I miss the comfort of that sacred space, but am finding the sacred in many things out here.

Got adventurous and decided to try the 5-mile Seven Sisters Trail out of Stony Fork Campground. I packed a sandwich and an apple and water and hitched up the boys.

Once out on the trail, I unhitched Moe. He will dart ahead, returning regularly to check on me, while Scooby and I plod sedately along. The first mile or so climbs steeply, switchbacking up the mountain, but once on top it’s more a matter of skirting the shoulder. I’m on the alert for upland birds and spectacular vistas. I saw plenty of both.

At the two-mile point (also the highest point on the trail), we stopped to assess our progress. Ahead was a steep downhill, followed by an equally steep uphill to the next summit. I let discretion be the greater part of valor, and chose to turn around after stopping for lunch. The sun came out. We paused a while longer to enjoy the added warmth, and to watch a buzzard soaring below us.

Heading back, I slipped on the narrow trail, landing hard on my left hip. I had just dusted myself off, and was limping on, when I heard this strange noise: like a puppy whimpering. Moe was riveted to a spot below the trail, so I raised my binoculars, and then I saw them—two tiny black bear cubs, no bigger than my dogs, and a good 40 feet up a huge tree. Mom was nowhere in sight. I tried to get a picture of them, then it hit me: I COULD NOT SEE MOM. I decided to get the hell out of there.

Take my word for it: this was the best picture I could get with my iphone. How did they get up that tree? Did mom send them up for safety when she heard us coming? Could they get down on their own, or would mom come back for them? I’ll never know, but I hope they will be OK.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough excitement, I added two birds to my life list—a blue-headed vireo and a black-throated green warbler—on the hike back! Whew! Time for a shower. Russ will rejoin me tonight or tomorrow.

Russ was having technical difficulties on Sunday (he forgot to bring the map section that would take him all the way to my campground at Stony Fork), so, on discovering that I was actually on his route just west of Charlottesville, I called him and, after some struggles with Google maps, we eventually found each other. I handed over the necessary map and we were both (finally) on our way.

I think I have never been through such drop dead gorgeous country as the area around Charlottesville and the Shenandoah valley. I hope Russ has been taking pictures, because it’s awfully hard to do driving 45-55 mph with a camper, but neither words nor pictures could do justice to this verdant, rolling countryside, with its manicured farms and stately homes. I’m pretty sure we went right through the heart of Virginia’s hunt country (all the farms with names like Talley Ho and Fox Chase might have tipped me off). Even further west and south, where the land becomes more rumpled than rolling, it was still about as pretty as anyplace I’ve ever seen.

And Stony Fork Campground, in the Jefferson National Forest, is wooded, quiet and, best of all, 1/2 price with my national parks senior pass! Birds abound—I only need to sit quietly beside my camper to see many species.

Thank you, Starbucks of Wytheville, for letting me hang out and complete these overdue posts. Now to rescue the doggies, get some food, and head back to camp!

Campsites at Lake Anna are very nice, and multiple trails take you out onto the many peninsulas that jut into the lake. My section of the camp was quiet until Friday night, when it filled up rapidly, but it emptied out just as rapidly as people headed back to work.

Russ caught up with me Thursday, arriving in a pouring rain. The hot showers came in mighty handy! He stayed for a recuperation day on Friday, then headed to Palmyra and an overnight at a church.

Saturday I visited Spotsylvania Court House, on the mistaken assumption that that was where the surrender of the Confederacy was signed. (I was wrong: it was Appomattox.) Spotsylvania was, however, the site of one of the major battles of the Civil War, so I toured the extensive battlefields.

There are MILES of these old earthworks—there were 18 days of brutal trench warfare here. More than anything else, they gave me the sense of how massive this battle was. After a while, reading about and viewing the site of so much death and destruction started to get depressing, so to cheer myself up, I stopped in to the nearby Confederate Cemetery.

While most of the graves were simple stones, like the first picture, a few (mostly officers) had more elaborate markers like the second picture. Of course, there was a monument (third pic) to the gallant fallen, with wording that rang dischordantly to my northern ears:

“We have gathered the sacred dust, of warriors tried and true, who bore the flag of our nation’s trust, and fell in the cause ’tho lost, still just, and died for me and you.”

Note the nation referred to here is NOT the United States of America!

Saturday night I introduced a very nice family of three to the board game Bonanza, and we had so much fun that they took a photo of the game board and a copy of the rules. I guess I could have brought extra copies of the game with me, but I suspect I’d run out pretty quickly. Nothing like a great game to make new friends!

I’ll leave Sunday to (hopefully) get a camp at Stony Fork Campground, near the southern end of the Jefferson National Forest in southwestern VA.

Did I see Historic Williamsburg when I visited William and Mary College my junior year of high school? I can’t remember. We did visit as a family at some point. Either way, it’s been over 50 years since I last saw this:

I am a sucker for anything archaeological, so when I spotted an active dig, I made a beeline for it. They are excavating the site of the first Baptist church in Williamsburg. They have discovered part of the burial ground, and Historic Williamsburg is working with the College of William and Mary and the current members of the Baptist church, who all have a voice in the project. A great example of a culturally sensitive, collaborative effort.

And THEN I spent the better part of an hour at the feet of Gowan Pamphlet (well, the interpreter), learning all about the history of the early ”dissenting” churches—Baptist, Lutheran, Methodist: basically any denomination but Anglican—the role they played in the American Revolution, and Gowan’s life as an enslaved man and an ordained minister of that very Baptist church that was being unearthed across the street. The interpreter completely inhabited his role as Gowan, and was a master storyteller.

Side Note:
Did you know that Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian, etc., pastors played a key role in raising troops for the Colonial armies? Ben Franklin printed over 100,000 copies of Thomas Paine’s Common Sense and distributed them to ministers of the dissenting churches. Remember, it was illegal to practice anything but Anglicanism in most colonies at that time, except for Pennsylvania (yay for my home state!) and Rhode Island (yay for Roger Williams!). So men of these congregations, fired up by Paine’s words and exhorted by their ministers, took up arms to fight for their religious freedom.

Every time I visit historic sites, I get so engrossed in things that I’m fascinated with that I don’t get around to much else. I hung out with the tailor and the weavers and asked a lot of questions. I did get to the art museum, with its wonderful Rockefeller Collection of Folk Art, but then it was time to head back and release the pups before they destroyed my camper! In my defense, it’s not possible to see all of Colonial Williamsburg in one day—the place has grown enormously in the last 50 years.

I stayed an extra day in Newport News in order to visit Williamsburg, so tomorrow it’s off to Lake Anna for four days.

Now this is more like it! Newport News Park Campground turned out to be a very pleasant surprise: just off I-64 past the naval base, a peaceful oasis of woods and water on the Lee Hall Reservoir. The trees are just showing a delicate fringe of new leaves, and birds abound. I am sorry we will only be here overnight—there are lots of trails and many historic sites. I will content myself with visiting Colonial Williamsburg tomorrow, on my way toward Richmond and Lake Anna.

Kiptopeke did turn out to have more redeeming qualities, as expected, once I got out of the campground. The pups and I walked through a lovely woodland trail to the bay and a fishing pier, where this sight greeted us:

Concrete boats! (who knew?) A result of steel shortages during WWII, they were used mostly as supplies transport during the war. These are permanently moored ”as a breakwater for the ferry system,” according to the sign on the pier. They have also become a habitat for lots of marine life, including hundreds of brown pelicans.

Russ has rearranged his bags (read: unloaded to Nancy’s car), and is now traveling lighter. I think he is finally wrapping his mind around this gargantuan undertaking. Tomorrow he leaves Yorktown on the Adventure Cycling route westward.

CK texted me on Friday—could they stay at my campsite if they detoured to Assateague? Strong winds were making it hard for them to make the mileage they’d planned on. They showed up just in time for me to make them a home-made dinner, which was much appreciated. Next morning, they were up early, to make (hopefully) 65+ miles that day.

I made one more loop of the marsh trail with my binoculars, hoping to see what I thought were eared grebes again (no luck), then packed up to head to Kiptopeke State Park, just north of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. That was when I discovered that my camper’s drivers side fender was broken. No idea how it happened. Luckily, a neighbor had some duct tape on hand, so the fender is secure until I can get a replacement.

My last look at the mother and baby that had wandered through my campground several times. Awww!

The rest of the day turned out to be adventurous, if not picturesque. I was just feeling peckish when what did I see but THE GREAT MACHIPONGO CLAM SHACK. And the food (all fried, of course) was oh so delicious! If you’re ever in Nassawadox, VA, check it out.

Back on the road, I thought I’d check out the Barrier Islands Center and Machipongo Almshouse Museum—an interesting, if somewhat disjointed historical site. Not what i was expecting. Apparently, the ”culture” of the Virginia barrier islands consisted promarily of their history as hunting clubs and resort hotels for white people.

Back in the car, I discovered the dogs had ripped open and consumed an entire bag of peanut butter flavored treats. Let out, Moe guzzled water and then proceeded to disgorge all of his plundered treats. Scooby seems unfazed, probably because Moe didn’t let him have any.

Kiptopeke State Park is NOT my idea of a great campground—it’s row after row of closely-spaced RV sites in a flat, nearly treeless field, and I am smack in the middle of it, right between the family with several screaming children and the two neighboring RVs whose dogs keep getting into fights. To be fair, it does have some good features, the best of which is HOT SHOWERS IN A HEATED BATHHOUSE. I headed straight for that, after 4 days without bathing. I do find it ironic that, now that I have a water hookup and hot water, I don’t need it.

Oh, and one last exciting thing: I, ever the sucker for a cute dog, was meeting a neighbor’s boxer puppy. I bent down, her head came up, and now I have a hole in my lip. I’m hoping it will stop bleeding soon.

Tomorrow we will check out the many trails around Kiptopeke, and then we will have more positive things to say about this place (I hope).

All the way down, I said ”I better see ponies!” And…..

But maybe I should start at the beginning:

Russ and CK decided to scale back the first day’s riding, given that it was 28 degrees out and threatening rain. So an early start, to drive an hour south to Woodland Beach, DE, where Erin and I saw the boys off.

And a good thing, too, because Russ immediately discovered that his helmet strap catch was broken. Got the spare helmet out of my car. Half an hour later, I had just reached the entrance to Bombay Hook Wildlife Refuge when I got a call from CK. Russ’s tire had a cut in the sidewall. Could I come back with the spare? Thank goodness they at least made it across the causeway to Woodland Beach, because by that time the tide had come in and the road was under water until the tide went out again.

By the time all was fixed, I decided to head straight for Assateague and save Bombay Hook for another trip. (I have been there, and highly recommend it.) Made it to Assateague about 2:30, found my campsite, and was greeted by this:

PONIES!!! This little fellow is the second foal born on Assateague this year, and he’s only three days old. Ain’t he cute? His mom is Autumn Glory, and his dad (not shown) is Assateague Phoenix (who knew they name the horses?) My neighbor had to wait to get back to his tent, because the colt decided to take a nap in the sun right in the middle of his site. You are NOT allowed to approach the horses, even if they are blocking your campsite!

Woke up Thursday to warmer weather (finally), and a fierce wind. Glad I chose the bayside, and not the oceanside, campground! Will post more pictures when I manage to find wifi.

Oh, P.S.: Surprise—there are cacti on Assateague! Poor Scooby found out the hard way. 🤕