In recent days I have been exploring the special wonders of this gorgeous time of the year in a region not that far removed from the pastoral splendors known here in Sandusky County. I was fortunate to have been invited down to Chantilly, Va. to join my eldest sister and husband of 55 years for Easter.
Just 25 miles west of Washington D.C., along famous Civil War Route 50, Chantilly is a bedroom community of 24,000 and, of course, is known for having played a small part in the Civil War. A battle there occurred shortly before the horrendous slaughter many miles northwest at Antietam. Nearby, the famous first real skirmish of Bull Run occurred.
Most folks rarely travel alone on their ‘spring break’ and most do not seek out northern Virginia, despite the explosion of history and in the spring, the beckoning beauty that grows better with each passing week. Folks usually head toward Florida, South Carolina… The sun, the beaches, or Micky Mousenation. Me, I guess I follow a different path, and like the poet, Robert Frost once wrote, ‘that has made all the difference’.
My journey took me first into Marietta, Ohio, the charming oldest town in Ohio. My lunch stop and daily stroll there saw me enjoy the river walk with its lovely views of the mighty Ohio. Spring in Marietta seemed to just be introducing herself to me. It was warm there but nature had not quite disrobed its winter coverings.
My Honda escorted me onward until I was in the late John Denver’s magical mountains, the rugged, wild, but eye- captivating West Virginia. Leaving the famous I-70 near Parkersburg, I made the turn to a Route 50, the two and four lane road which, if I persisted, would lead me to Chantilly, Virginia, my destination. But I was miles from there and fortunately not in a particular hurry. Time to savor anything noteworthy to see. Sights of spring, however, still hid themselves cleverly around each hill and curve.
After a night’s stay in Clarkstown, West Virginia, I drove from the comforts of four lanes to a more hazardous and rugged two-lane route. Up and up the Honda pulled me and then down 9 percent grade hills through easternmost Mountaineer towns like Romney. It’s in these remote areas where the confederate flag still waves proudly on some rundown properties. Unfortunately, the people in these poor Appalachian hills like to collect junk, but it just sets in the wide open, damaging what nature has tried to present. Sad.
Once through the mountains, I knew that my destination was just about two hours or so away. Passing through a slice of the beloved Shenandoah Valley, I gazed out my windshields to the sprawling greener countryside known for its apple trees. I took a break for a leisurely look at Winchester’s comforting historic district. Impressive. People walk freely about having no threats from auto, skateboard, or bicycle traffic. Enticing gift shops, restaurants, and colorful streets must make for a rewarding weekend trip for the peoples of the region. Winchester, founded in 1752, thirty years before Marietta, also gave its southern personality away with its confederate and revolutionary war architecture in many of the gorgeous older and renovated structures.
During my break in the ‘Apple Capital of the World’, I fiddled awhile on my 2016 companion, my IPad. I Googled ‘cherry blossoms’ and learned that the famous D.C. cherry blossoms were peaking the next day. Hurrah! I had been to the nation’s capital many times but never at that peak moment for the nature’s majestic flaunting of herself. It was a must see! An absolute must. Have your Disney World, have your sunburns on beautiful beaches! I know I must see these cherry blossoms embracing the wealth of majestic memorials and monuments to our country’s great leaders.
To enjoy the blossoms, I knew I had to drive the few miles from my sister’s in Chantilly to the metro station in Vienna, Virginia. A payment of $16.95 gained me a day’s pass to the Smithsonian station exit. The thirty minute ride brought me into the hub of DC, just outside the American History Museum and to the opposite direction, the domineering Washington Monument. Studying some of the plentiful signs, I easily navigated toward the famous Tidal Basin where hundreds of seemingly every race, nationality, and culture were together enjoying the spectacular beauty of the blossoms. Photo ops were available about every two to three steps I took. I offered to take pictures for foreign families and all were gracious, even amazed at my acts of kindness. A Muslim mother kept telling me, “God bless you, God bless you!”
As I slowly made my around the shores of the Tidal Basin, I stepped onto the grounds of truly magnificent edifices, the Jefferson Memorial, the Franklin Roosevelt Memorial, and finally the new Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial. Each in its own way made me definitely consider the greatest of the legends these men became.
A couple of days later, I drove my Honda a short twenty miles west of D.C. to the growing suburban city of Manassas. There, it was time to revisit the Civil War battlefield site known as Bull Run. Unlike other battlefields I have been lucky to have examined, Bull Run has always appealed to me. It is relatively small compared to many others. I could stand on this hill next to the magnificent statue of Confederate General Stonewall General up on his horse and gaze like he did on the proceedings of the battle.
At Bull Run I took a hike along paths which led to various staging sites of the first real engagement of the Civil War. When one walks over such sacred soil, I would think he or she would be enormously insensitive, if he or she did not contemplate what happened on that early July day in 1861. Seeing battlefields like this as well as the wonderful museums most sites contain brings the significance of what happened here to the forefront of any living conscience.
Eventually, it was time to say good bye to my Chantilly hosts, my sister Lois and brother-in-law, Dave. Having seen them only twice a year on average for the last 55 years of my life, it was again difficult to leave their warmth and southern hospitality. I drove to the west- southwest and eventually made my way onto a 34-mile stretch of the Shenandoah’s famed Skyline Drive. Once in the mountains, winter’s drab cloak enveloped the barren, brown ground and still sleeping trees. I would be some hours until I saw signs of the sought after spring. Along the way, on Route 33 near the West Virginia eastern border, I revisited beautiful James Madison University. The campus sets high on a foothill slope and presents magnificent southern architecture on its university halls and buildings. Harrisonburg, Va. with its own Civil War history makes a fitting setting for both James Madison and nearby Washington and Lee University.
My Easter excursion finally brought me into Athens, Ohio with its gorgeous setting for another outstanding university, Ohio U. Thoughts of some very fine youth I once coached years ago at McPherson Middle School came to mind as I passed through Athens. I know they are off to good starts there and that they will probably be outstanding in their career pursuits. Coming home to Clyde, I left the hills for flatter fields. Fields increasingly plowed and seeded with many already blossoming in a green carpet that spread for hundreds of yards. A different landscape in a different state, but still, unquestionably comforting in its sweeping beauty.
My ‘spring break’ may not have unending excitement of Vegas, nor mesmerizing with the magic of Disney entertainment, nor the popular sun many seek farther south, but for this writer, it brought me more appreciation for nature’s displays, respect for noble wartime sacrifices, needed family time, and happiness in the freedom I enjoy while traveling. No doubt, too, my time in downtown Washington DC as well as its many heavily populated suburbs with its multinational and diverse groups of humanity, gave me renewed respect for the goodness which exists in so many folks who walk this earth, a goodness sadly not often projected by our many news sources.
