Heading south

The Visitor Center was blessedly un-populated on Monday morning, so Jeff spent some time on the resource room computers looking up information on old Thomas, while I searched fruitlessly for a wi-fi signal.

I whispered a wee hint in Abe's ear.

Don't go to the theatre!

Then we did the driving tour of battle sites. We stopped by the Little Round Top area and sneaked a listen to some of the tour bus drivers and private guides for some extra tidbits on the history. This was where the second day of the battle took place and it was particularly devastating.  

This could have been a decisive battle for the south and the Civil War might have been won in a day. However, due to sick commanders, reorganizations, distrust, and general mishaps among the southern troops, the outcome was indecisive and the next day would only bring further heartache and destruction.

This is looking out from the northern position, over the fields where the southern troops were stationed.

Overlooking Devil's Den, a boulder-strewn ridge about 500 yards west of Little Round Top. It is the site of one of the few southern successes of the day, when it was taken and used by sharpshooters and still occupied by Confederates at the end of the day.

It's hard to imagine, now, the sights and sounds of battle that filled this landscape 150 years ago. Over 3,000 men died here on the second day of battle and over 1,200 were wounded. This description is found on the official website:

Hours of combat had left a thick, heavy cloud of smoke hanging over the field, pierced by the frowning red glare of the sun setting behind the Confederate line. Booming artillery and crackling rifle fire, coupled with shouted commands, groans from wounded soldiers and the scared whinnying of horses, created the horrible sounds of war. 

We went down to Devil's Den for a closer look.

As we walked over the rocks, I imagined Confederate sharpshooters hiding in the crevices.

The battle was long and complicated and I could never hope to tell it in anything close to a coherent manner. Whenever we visit battlefields, my heart and mind are overwhelmed with sorrow for the suffering of the soldiers and their families, and I get to the point of being unable to hear even one more tale of destruction.

And yet, after we left Gettysburg in the early afternoon, we headed over the mountains to find Antietam. I did manage to get us slightly lost (thinking that the Appalachian Trail was a highway) but we found it eventually.

The Battle of Antietam (also known as the Battle of Sharpsburg) took place on September 17th, 1862. It was the bloodiest single day of fighting in the war, with 22,717 missing, wounded or dead on both sides. 

These cornfields were once running in blood.

We walked along the Bloody Lane. This sunken road was used by outnumbered Confederates to hold off a series of Union attacks. When union troops eventually entered the lane, they fired straight down it, killing and wounding countless Confederates.

There is a watchtower at the end of the lane. It was built after the war, for the purpose of training military leaders in the art of battle.

We had one more stop to make before heading down to visit friends at Buena Vista (pronounced Byoona Vista, for those in the know) for the night. So on we went, to Luray Caverns, a casualty of lack of time on our visit to Virginia last year.
I will only subject you to a few photos from my arsenal.

The caverns were discovered in 1878 by a tinsmith and local photographer.
The tour lasts one hour and the caverns are mighty. Some of the ceilings are ten stories high. The next two photos give you an idea of the scale.

We love caves and I have lost count of how many we have visited. This was definitely the biggest and grandest but, somehow, the caves disappointed me. I prefer a certain amount of ruggedness and impoliteness in my caves. Here, all was paved and lighted and downright civilized. However, it was worth the visit and I would recommend you take the time too, if you are ever in that neck of the Shenandoah Valley.

This pool was filled with coins. We hear that people sometimes throw paper money in as well. Periodically, the money is collected and donated to charity. Almost a million dollars has been donated so far. Hard to wrap your mind around that figure, isn't it?

One of the things I dislike about caves is that I want to take a million photos because of all the awesomeness, but they rarely turn out to do the views justice. If I use a flash, it creates bright spots, and if I don't, the photos are blurry.
Like these reflecting pools, which were absolutely brilliant.

One of the young men had a strange-looking walking-stick thing, which was attached to his camera and steadied it while he took photos. I finally worked up the courage and asked him what it was.
Monopod.
I need one of these.
Children, take note. Your mother wants a monopod for Christmas.
It sounds like an alien intruder.

Some formations are translucent.

Everything is on a grand scale. No close-ups here.

 Right before you leave the caverns are the fried eggs.
I wanted to scrape these up and eat them, they are so adorable.

And a close-up of the adorableness.

We left Luray Caverns and drove south to Byoona Vista. 

But that's a story for another day.

Hangin' with Abe

On Sunday morning, we drove down to Gettysburg. We turned off the freeway on Hanover Road and passed some activity in this field. We stopped to have a gander and discovered that a live re-enactment was to take place later in the day, so we said thank-you-very-much-we-will-be-back and carried on our way.

We drove to the Visitor Center, which was overrun with hordes of Boy Scouts, so we checked out the Park Ranger tour information and left, deciding that we would return the next day. We walked around the town a little bit and then went back to the re-enactment. 

Jeff and this Confederate wannabe had a great political conversation, complaining about Obama and his minions. And I got to hear the other side of the Civil War debate. Which reminded me that things are rarely simple and that there are often valid points on both sides of an argument.

The re-enactment of the skirmish was kind of lame.

Can I say that?

This was the site of a field hospital, so there were lots of very gory mannequins lying around, and piles of limbs and stuff.

And then they practised firing their muskets and everyone stood around and watched.

We decided to take the walking tour of the town.

We visited all 42 points of interest on the walking tour.

Yes, we did.

We said Hello to our friend, Mr. Lincoln.

And proceeded to walk.

And walk.

And walk.

Here are some photos of old houses, many of which stood during the battle of Gettysburg.

We learned about some of the individuals who lived in the town of Gettysburg at the time of the battle, such as Tillie Pierce, fifteen, who wrote an account of her experiences, and Jennie Wade, twenty years old, who was baking bread at her sister's house when she was hit by a bullet that penetrated two wooden doors before it killed her, making her the only confirmed civilian casualty of the battle.

Many of the houses and other buildings still bear the marks of battle.

Someone obviously has a sense of humour. 

Let's hope this sign at a closed gas station never becomes reality!

We stopped by the Gettysburg National Cemetery for a couple of ranger talks, because you know they are my favourite thing to do. The ranger gave an impassioned recital of the events leading up to Lincoln's speech at the cemetery, which was very enlightening for me, as I was fuzzy on the facts.

Imagine our surprise when the one soldier he told us about (to illustrate a typical soldier who died here) was an Osborne. No relation, that we know of. 

We went directly to a second talk across the parking lot, where we heard many more battle stories. We were even more surprised when one of the first people mentioned in the presentation was Thomas Osborne, Jeff's ancestor.

Cool.

I got very tired of battle stories and wandered around taking lots of photos, many of which illustrated the first post in this series, so I won't subject you to more.

We finished up the walking tour as it was getting dark, neatly avoiding solicitations to join a ghost tour. 

And I refused to talk about battlefields any more. 

Until tomorrow.

Are you ready for a history lesson? Or two?

Our flight to Harrisburg, PA, via O'Hare, was blessedly uneventful. 

By the way, I am designating O'Hare as the coolest airport, due to the traveling neon rainbow colours that flicker down the paths of the people-movers. 

I wanted to stand and watch them, but Jeff said, No.

We were driving from Harrisburg down to Annie's house near Fayetteville, NC, so rented our car from Costco, who have The Best rates for this kind of thing. Our car was a cute little Kia Soul, which Jeff despised immediately but had to concur (after a while) that it was a pretty good drive.

Our first stop was  QVC, because he had forgotten his contact lens solution.

Our next stop was for dinner at Panera Bread. Jeff was hungry, and you don't mess with the man when he's hungry.

Oh my.

I'm not one for eating out very much (my Dad always used to say, after taking us out to dinner, "Else, let's just buy a nice chicken and eat at home next time," and I am apt to think the same thing) but I may have discovered my nemesis in the restaurant business. I looked everywhere we went for another Panera, but never found one. 

Then, a quick drive down to Dillsburg to our airbnb booking. 

I am clearly redeemed for my bad choices on Kaua'i, as this place was so quaint we almost died from quaintness.

This is the old mill that was renovated by Art and Donna, the owners of about twenty years.

The log house that was moved onto the property and painstakingly re-assembled by Art and Donna.

Some people have so much talent and energy I can hardly comprehend it.

The room was over-sized and included a sitting area and a kitchen. The bed was comfortable, the bathroom charming and spotless, in fact the whole place was immaculate and authentically decorated. The fridge was stocked with breakfast vittles and Donna had made some sweet breads, which were sitting on the counter, waiting to be devoured. 

If you've never tried airbnb, I highly recommend it. We paid $130 for two nights in a setting that was idyllic and well away from the hustle and bustle of the city, yet we were only about twenty minutes away from Gettysburg, our destination. Clear Springs was once a thriving community centred around the mill, but is now just a few houses on a quiet road that sits just off the main highway.

I spent considerable time attempting to get some artistic shots of the property, which included the mill, log house, some sheep, and a sawmill. 

Here's a smattering of the purported artistic photos.

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Are you still there, or did you die from the quaintness?
More to come, but I am going to keep these posts short, for your sanity and mine.