Exploring Virginia in search of my roots
with many thoughts on life as I travel along.
Day one begins after the usual tidying up of the house, weed eating and mowing the yard, watering the outside plants and making the indoor plants become outdoor plants so that a gentle rain will keep them alive.
I began towards Memphis en route to Sardis, Ms as suggested by AAA. But by the time I got to the Hazen exit on the interstate I realized it was the same scenery I had seen a million times - well a few times - fields after fields and trucks after trucks. The fields were all in various stages of planting, or being prepared for the planting of corn, rice and probably some cotton. I wondered if the corn in this area was to feed the large population of Memphis or the people of China. I exited and decided to cross the Mississippi River at the Helena Bridge.
quite like a deserted town to me. Perhaps Sam had built a Walmart somewhere in town that caused the demise of the downtown area. Or perhaps down a side road there was a mall that would effect the same to a charming old down town area.Just across the Mississippi River I found myself at the Lady Luck Casino below the bridge. Why not? So I went in and spent a quick $9.75.
East of Sardis and I did find the John W. Kyle State Park. There are 93,000 acres included in the park and Lake Sardis area. I could have stopped at the
first campground with no water, showers or electric but I opted to pay $11 instead of $3 to have electricity. I chose a spot with a nice view of Sardis Lake. After setting out my chair I couldn't chance rain tomorrow so it was off to find Fredonia Cemetery. Day 2 - Sardis, Ms to Natchez Trace
I have never slept better. I did not hear a sound after lights off and awoke at I knew not what time to peaceful surroundings. Everyone either left early to go fishing or was
still asleep. The morning was overcast but seemed fresh as the trees and grass were so springtime green. The blue jays, cardinals and squirrels appeared to have campground duty and the lost black lab was running up and down the road looking for his owner. The ranger station was getting a fresh coat of paint. I wondered why they switched from tree trunk brown to a tan color but it matched the tan shower house. Must have been the state park color choice for summer 99. The highlight of the morning were the two red headed woodpeckers flirting or fighting outside my camper door.Why a woodpecker would peck on the metal electric box when it is surrounded by trees confused me.Tishomingo Park is a quiet secluded area surrounding Haynes Lake. Chief Tishomingo was the leader of the Chickasaw nation. This would be my stop for the night. I settled into what seemed like a peaceful spot and was promptly met by a white duck and a mallard chatting to each other about how I was probably good for a piece of bread. I surprised them and chased them off with a pine cone. All I needed was ducks quacking at my door.
It is amazing how housekeeping duties change after using an RV, Retirement Vehicle, for awhile. Instead of tidying up everything each morning the coffee pot is allowed to sit on the floor, the lamp stays on the counter, and I just toss the covers back. I wonder if by May 2000 I will even put away the coffee each morning. It reminded me of the times I rolled the sleeping bag each morning and wrapped the elastic cord around it being sure that the gray stripe alongside the aqua sleeping bag was on the outside. And that was only six months ago.
A cool but slightly humid evening breeze made for an inviting evening in which to read more about Steinbeck's Travels with Charley and made me pleased to be traveling without Charley. Dogs are nice but I don't need one.
Wednesday morning I awoke to watch Pileated woodpeckers consume edibles from the pine trees. It was humid and although every place I stopped people mentioned that rain is on the way, it had yet to catch up with me. As I left the campground I saw a deer dart across the road and before long a turkey running in front of Ziggy as fast as he could go. Not many miles on up the Trace I noticed a turkey feeding on a newly planted field. This is the way a trip should be. I exited on 64 and drove into Pulaski. I always enjoy the country side in Giles County. I stopped by cousin Margaret Butler, deceased's, house and looked around the yard. I had the little concrete girl by the pond half way to the street when I decided that was not the proper thing to do. I let her sleep under the dogwood tree. Although Margaret had left everything to the church I just knew she would not want that little girl auctioned if she only knew how welcome she would be beside my pond. I located the auctioneer and was happy to hear him tell me, "No, I couldn't help you load it but I could look the other way."
I like a town with a town square and everything you need right there in that one block. Sometimes life can be quite simple, the way it should be. I located the auctioneer, the lawyer's office, the library and a Mexican restaurant all on the town square.
Thursday morning found me headed for five cemeteries. I stopped and paid $2.50 for
a Giles County map which I could have gotten for free at the bank next door had it been open on Thursday. Off I went through the lovely green rolling countryside from hollow to hollow until I saw the sign for the Hopewell Cemetery. I tromped around in poison ivy and through vines and did locate the Johnson family.After Hopewell I was off for Lynnville. The ladies in one of the stores on the strip were locals and knew where Mars Hill, Elk Ridge, Lynwood and Yokley cemeteries were. Towards Cornersville I spotted Elk Ridge , then on down the road to Mars Hill.
I reversed directions back through Lynnville but was in no hurry as I could drive
those roads and look at the scenery forever. Then down the road to the Yokley Cemetery, not such an easy place to find. A neighbor showed me how to get through the electric fence and warned me to watch for rattlesnakes. But snakes and electric fences weren't the end of it. When I got as far up the hill as I could drive I walked on up to find the entire area overgrown. I was amazed at the large round holes where varmints obviously lived and wondered what they might be. I tromped gingerly all over the area. What a pathetic sight indeed. There were lots of tombstones, some with trees fallen on them, others covered in brush so thick there was no getting to them. Again I would have to take someone else's word that the Abernathys were there. 
by fresh green hillsides. She was watching her grandson and their old hound Rose. "I didn't get snake bit but poison ivy might be another story." "Well, I've heard if you rub the roots of poke salad on poison ivy it helps." I told her that is one remedy I hadn't heard and shared about the big hole I had seen in the ground. "Probably a ground hog or maybe even a coyote. We have a lot of coyotes around here now."
On 64 east heading for Chattanooga I noticed how the dark clouds provided not only contrast for the sky, but for the shades of green on the mountains also. Some areas of the forest appeared to be almost as dark as the clouds while the sun shone on other lighter areas. After a few rolling hills I drove for a long time on what seemed like a plateau with a view of the mountains to come in front of me. I wondered how on earth these ancestors had made it through those mountains on horseback with family and belongings. A sudden ascent brought me to interstate 24. Here I wondered if those trucks going down the right of three lanes were to need to use the runaway truck ramps that were on the left side how I would know to get out of their way. And if they honked should I move to the left or the right?
Then I entered the Eastern time zone sign and it caught me by total surprise. Perhaps, that is why the traffic was quite bad going around Chattanooga in an on and off again heavy rain. After what seemed like forever I picked 64 east up again and was off for the beautiful winding road alongside the Ocoee River. Realizing I no longer knew for sure when it got dark I chanced a National Forest sign for a campground in the Cherokee Forest. I climbed the mountain in second and third gears and was provided a magnificent view of the Ocoee but never a view of the campground. After 4.5 miles I turned around and decided to go on to Murphy.
The Riverbend Campground was a busy place with a jeep group in for the weekend. I had a quiet place alongside the river which I could view from my sofa. The dark brown color tells me there was a lot of rain here also. And then it came again. What an opportunity to test the Ziggy canvas for leaks. The guys in their jeeps seemed to be having fun splashing around in the mud.
I awoke to a dry interior and didn't spend long getting ready to hit the road. I looked forward to the drive on 64 east of Murphy through the mountains. I visited with my tent neighbor for a minute and learned that Murphy has some of the best roads for jeeps in the country - "one of the top ten."
And again I saw spring in it's early stages for the third time this year. The leaves were various shades of fresh spring green that looked so tender and just unfurled. The dogwoods and azaleas were blooming, but a special North Carolina treat was the rhododendrums I saw in full splendor. As I would ascend the mountains I would suddenly find myself in deep shade which assured me which way was east and at times I could hear the birds in the tree tops even as I drove along. At the second lookout point, where I recalled the magnificent view from last September, I could see nothing as I was in the clouds.I marveled at how all the places to pull off for a view were scenic overlooks. The mountains were what I was most in awe of and wondered why they didn't have a place to look at those from the roadside. Then I realized I didn't even know what it would be called - just a scenic view or maybe a sign that says "Hey, check out these mountains!" Signs are strange. All along the route I was warned about Reduced Speed Ahead. Well, if it were ahead how could it already be reduced and if it were a message for me then shouldn't it read "Reduce speed ahead?" Finally in North Carolina I saw the signs labeled Reduce Speed Ahead and began to wonder who decides what is put on these signs cause I sure would give credit to the North Carolina sign committee.
I also often get disgusted when crossing creeks or rivers. They give the bridge a name for some person of whom I have never heard and I cross that person's bridge wondering what river is below. I finally asked at the gas station earlier in the day, "By the way, what river is that running alongside the highway?" And only then did I find out it is the Uwarrie.
The same seems to be the case with the camping signs I keep seeing. They point the direction to a camp but don't bother to tell you whether it is .1 of a mile or 15 miles down the road. Now if it is close I might go, but more often than not, I don't go 15 miles to camp but continue 15 miles ahead hoping to find another one. And perhaps if the mileage isn't denoted then it is a long way. I am not sure.
I asked at the tourist information center for a list of state parks for North Carolina. "We aren't allowed to give those out." Why? Because they are cheaper than other parks or don't pay for the upkeep of the rhododendrums. Not allowed by who? The person in charge of the info center or the state park people. She said "Oh, but you can find it on the map." Exactly, with thirty minutes of spare time and a magnifying glass. It is a tiny little thing that in pink should resemble a tent but what with all the other information included they aren't easy to spot. Some day I will locate a state park and then get the information there for all the others in North Carolina.
At Franklin I decided to forego the winding road through Highlands and found myself taking the 64 truck route. I passed a roadside stand where they sold bags of dirt and couldn't believe I paid $5 for five bags of dirt. Hopefully there will be a saffire or some other gem in one. Their setup is that you can stand with a wire basket over a trough of running water that carries away the dirt while you sift through for gemstones. I thought it would be more fun to share my dirt with others so I slid them on top of the van in the little area provided for just such occasions and hoped I didn't hit a bump that brought rubies crashing through the windshield into my lap. On I traveled not sure where I was going and found myself passing an entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway. At the tourist rest area nearby in Balsam I decided to go on to interstate 40 and travel on to Hickory where I could drop down to Denver in Lincoln County on the Catawba River.
I arrived in the small town of Denver where I met Ann, my sixth cousin once removed who was descended from Jacob Forney. She let the overweight black lab, Prince, out and invited me in. We visited for a long time. Had it not turned chilly I am sure I would have allowed her to show me around the area.
I went on down the road and located the round barn which I understood to be the old Dutch Meeting House but I never was sure. Beside it was another old building that might have been a meeting place. Whatever they were, it was scenic indeed. I like old buildings. I later learned a movie had been filmed here.I continued to 73 and turned left. After a mile or so I decided I should have turned right so turned around and went the other direction for about 12 miles. I came to another
highway and had no idea where I was but determined I should have stayed left to begin with. It was a pretty drive so I did it again. On across 73 and I came out in a mess of traffic and realized that the Charlotte area must be much larger than I knew. Folks were going in every direction. I went on up 21 and found an exit to 150 and 152 that would take me out into the country and the peace and quiet of back roads again. Later I turned north on 49 and found my way into Asheboro. I was as tired as I have been lately, perhaps because it rained on and off all day and the sun didn't shine. When the sun doesn't shine I usually don't either."You really do have a river?"
I asked the man "By the way, have you ever heard of the Sandy Creek area along Deep River? I am not sure if it is in Guilford or Randolph County." I left the office with a map of how to get there and a dissertation from the 76 year old man helping in the office all about how the beginning of the Baptist church started right there in Sandy Crik and how the old church and the New Hope church disagreed over where it started. And how supposedly they moved Shubel Stearns after he was buried from one to the other. He then drew me a map of how to get to the New Hope Church.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of the Cherokee National Forest, and today it was the Nantahala National Forest, the Pisgah National Forest, the Blue Ridge Mountains, and one other forest whose name I can't find on the map with so much other information. I will have to check my National Forests map.
Day 6 - Asheboro, NC to Sandy Creek to Guilford Battlefield to Alamance Battlefield to Washington, NC
Saturday began with a visit to the Asheboro Library genealogical room and the Sandy Creek area. Up 49 north I soon spotted the Ramseur-Julian Road. It was a lovely drive with rolling hills and plenty of cleared farmland. The older church was open and the interior was quite interesting as it was old log cabin style. On the outside were shingles that covered and disguised the logs. The cemetery was below the newer church and I witnessed many tombstones that were just knubs sticking out of the ground, remainders of what at one point in time must have been nice engraved tombstones, but could not survive the effects of weathering. Farmlands and good rocks for tombstones just didn't mix. They evidently weren't importing granite and marble in this area in those days.
Then it was on north and eventually to Greensboro and the Guilford Courthouse Battlefield.
I realized on the way what a large town I was in and the driving made me nervous. I just don't like driving in cities of any size or busy interstates. If I had been in this town at 5 on Friday I probably would have just parked it. And I was stepping back in time to the Revolutionary War. Who needs all this traffic?
I was ready to exit. It seemed that in the hilly parts of North Carolina everyone just uses the interstates, which was how I had found myself on them also.Merely a few feet from the interstate life was quiet and serene with rolling countryside and farm land. I stopped at the battlefield where I learned that they were celebrating the annniversary and that was why there were demonstrations all about the park, not an every weekend event. A man dressed in "Sunday clothing" for the time period explained to me how different axes were used to cut the logs and therefore make the different ax and adze marks on the logs, apparent on the old house where we were standing on the porch.
I enjoyed wandering around in the mid afternoon sun but knew I must get back on the interstate and get to Washington before dark. The traffic was not nearly so heavy the remainder of the trip and after successfully navigating through Raleigh for a change, I was off the interstate and headed to Washington, NC. I was glad to arrive.
Day 7 aka week 2 - Washington, NC
I was greeted by my daughter, her husband, and my granddog, Ruby. And I had made it just in time for the fish fry.
Caroline and Eric enjoyed digging in the dirt sack for Franklin gems, none of which we knew what were.
Kay and I managed to take a fine bike ride along the Pamlico Sound gathering Spanish moss for her various projects.
Washington is a quaint town with an old downtown area that I especially enjoy. There are walking tours, old homes, churches and cemeteries. The town is small and this is quite a rural area. Tobacco farms are everywhere and agriculture seems to be the main industry in this area. And all these fields are interspersed with small old historical towns and scenic historic driving tours. We took a lot of walks around the downtown historic area of Washington. One of Ruby's favorite places to explore is the water along the edges of Pamlico Sound. The oldest part of town is built along the sound which we could view from the back of the house.
Kay and John practiced some tombstone rubbings with my new supplies for the adventure into Virginia.
I spent Monday at the library in Washington checking out the genealogical books while Kay & John were at work. They decided we must make a trip to New Bern to visit the Accidental Artist. There we could paint our own pottery. What a delightful afternoon.
New Bern is such a fine old town, a population of about 20,000. What a history it has as the original political scene in the state. I always take time to drive by the reconstructed Tryon Palace and enjoy the old homes in the area. The palace gardens provide a peaceful place for a stroll and their flowers are gorgeous. A favorite each year is the mum festival. There is a charge to tour but it was worth the money.
The Sunday weather forecast let me know to stay until Tuesday. Storms roared through the area on Sunday night and were headed for Virginia. It was no time for me to be on the road also headed to Virginia. It turned out to be a wise choice. And it gave me more time to visit.
Day 16 - On to Virginia and Brunswick County 
Tuesday was a beautiful morning for driving so I left town about 9 and took the back roads through Williamston to Lawrenceville, the county seat of Brunswick County, Virginia. As I crossed into Virginia about noon the landscape seemed to abruptly change. I located the Brunswick County library quite easily as the town appeared very small and it was on the main street.
I learned in the library that the county is on the Indian Trading Path of long ago and the settlers found an abundance of rich farmland and wildlife. There were paths that led to Jamestown, Richmond, Spartanburg and Catawba land further south. Later there was quite an interest in horse racing with prized horses imported and race tracks built. Quite a contrast with what is visible now. It seems to be quite a rural area with many fields lying fallow.
Lake Gaston is on the southern border of the county meandering in
and out of Virginia and North Carolina. The lake is thirty five miles long and homes and subdivisions abound. From the Americamps owner I learned that these are second homes for families from the surrounding large towns, such as Durham and Richmond. Such contrast in living styles in one area!
The library doesn't allow patrons to send email and you can read your email but not receive email. I would need an explanation for that. I haven't quite figured it out. So I chanced getting thrown out and sent Kay a quick message as to what my location was.
It is interesting how libraries vary. Washington requested identification and the filling out of a form to use the internet in which I promised to be good. In New Bern, the much better equipped facility as far as books had no internet access. In other libraries I was able to use the genealogy folders and loose papers stored within but in Brunswick County I had to leave my driver's license and the worker would get me one folder at a time. In Brunswick County there is a user policy posted which explicitly states that I shall send no email. So I waited until I was finished with all my research to send all my email. It is difficult to type ninety to nothing and pretend that you are just browsing the internet. A real give-away. In Washington, NC I was not allowed to use the copy machine but had to ask others to make copies for me. In Brunswick County where I couldn't use the folders or email I could use the copy machine. In New Bern the library was indeed a quiet place with warnings to be quiet posted on each and every table. Don't they know libraries have changed? In Brunswick County I could hardly get my work done for the noise of the library workers. The shelves in New Bern were as tidy as shelves could be and in Washington I felt inclined to stay and put their shelves in order.
Day 17 - Lawrenceville, Va to Emporia, Va
No sooner had I had my shower and blueberry muffins than it started to 
sprinkle and the showers lasted til about noon. Nevertheless I headed east again on 903 and then at Ebony I turned north on Tillman Road. It was a scenic drive along gently rolling hills that obviously had a past. Farm land was interspersed with forests and the creeks flowed throughout the area. There were turnoffs to old house places or perhaps new ones, older homes left empty as reminders of another time, and newer homes interspersed. It was the perfect country drive.
I went back to Lawrenceville and stopped at the Chamber of Commerce where I managed to obtain a very detailed county map. The only problem with this map was that it showed the roads whereas my other map showed an abundance of creeks. When I asked about Reedy Creek and Sturgeon Creek she replied, "Those aren't creeks. They are the names of the roads." Little did she know I had referenced a map showing the survey by confederate engineers in 1864 which did not show her roads, only the creeks. Nevertheless it got me pointed in the right direction.
Again I traveled back roads marveling at the deserted home places, the used to be farms, the current farms with their hay ready for the barns. There are back roads zigzagging everywhere in the county and yet the town seems so small. I was being initiated into how agricultural areas are laid out. I was excited to pass Smoky Ordinary as I drove along the Old Stage Road. It had a marker denoting there was a tavern there about the time of the Revolutionary War. I was surprised to see cemeteries that seemed in the middle of nowhere but closer investigations always led me to realize that the older tombstones were mere fragments of stones laid out in neat rows.
The rain had stopped at noon 
and it made for an extraordinary day of meandering. I traveled in the area of Sturgeon Creek, Reedy Creek, up the Old Stage Road and felt I was in the area where ancestors, or their descendants, lived. All of this was south of the Nottoway River and north of town. There were other areas I wanted to visit such as the Old Indian Trail behind Dixon Dress Shop but I decided I couldn't see everything and didn't yet know where to look. It would require a return visit.
I was off for Greensville County and the Yogi Bear campground. Had I known about it the night before it turned out to be much closer and easier to access than Lake Gaston, but I sure would have missed a lot of scenery.Wednesday night's camping at the Yogi Bear campground in Emporia turned out to be a very peaceful experience. I asked for peace and quiet and it was so secluded I did not even hang the curtains.
Day 18 - Emporia, Va to Sussex to Surry, Va
The morning was pleasant and after a refreshing shower I drove into Emporia and easily found the Clerk's Office. Then it was off to Sussex County and the county seat Sussex. What small towns I kept coming across. This was an old town, obviously, but all that seemed to be there were the public buildings.
The county preceding Sussex County in time was Surry County. It just turned out that was the direction I was headed. I finally had begun my court house research which I found not nearly so pleasant as wandering county roads.
The drive to Surry was delightful along highway 40 east, a narrow two lane road through the forests and farmlands.
It amazed me to become so aware of the changes that have occurred as we have left the agricultural era and nowhere has it been more evident to me than in Virginia. Old homes are deserted and I wonder where are the people. Part of the beauty of taking the back roads I guess. I felt sure they are all clustered around Richmond and Norfolk. The land had flattened and let me know I was in Tidewater Virginia, without checking the map. The soil had changed appearance and took on a sandy gray-brown shade as compared to the darker, redder soil I had seen further west. Large fields had either just been planted or prepared for planting.
I stopped in Surry, another tiny farming town, and immediately found the clerk's office in the old courthouse. Next door was the tiniest library I had seen but a good selection of genealogy books that I don't find in Arkansas.
Chippokes Plantation, a few miles down the road 
on the James River, was a working plantation for more than 370 years. And a short drive to the ferry that crossed the James River would become an every morning trek for awhile as I would stay at Chippokes through the Labor Day weekend and enjoy day trips into the Williamsburg area.
Day 19 - Williamsburg
I arose to a peaceful morning and caught the free ferry that runs every thirty minutes to Jamestown. A short fifteen minute ride found me in 
Williamsburg. I located the same parking lot and King's Inn and Tavern that I had enjoyed last time. I spent some time meandering around Williamsbug seeing the things I had missed on the last trip there. I couldn't believe I hadn't even seen the governor's palace. But on this trip I was not on a time schedules dictated by the changing leaves in New England.
I also enjoyed Wetherburn Tavern, the Wythe House, the Randolph House, and just meandered the afternoon away. I learned from one of the costumed workers that the residents who live in the private homes in the neighborhood are employs who rent those houses. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to live where there were groups of school children often outside the window.
About five I caught the ferry back to my residence for the weekend and toured around the campground and plantation/farm area before relaxing at my picnic table. I decided if I were going to stay a few days I might as well set out the table cloth and orange plastic flowers for a change. The camping area was indeed full. Children and their noises were wafting through the air traveling along sound waves that crossed through my peaceful space. If they have smoking areas for smokers in restaurants because non-smokers find smoke offensive then why not children areas in campgrounds and a section for older folks that want to hear nothing but the birds. But those little screeches and whys would probably still follow those sound waves to the non-children area.
Day 20 - Yorktown, Va
By 9 a.m. on Saturday it was apparent a hot day was ahead. At the shower house they had four showers marked male and female. I couldn't get the lock to work on the empty female shower and wondered why I should stand in line while the male shower was empty. Then I wondered why they were marked at all. What would be the difference in a male shower and a female shower? I found no difference. The showers were excellent large walk in stalls with a light and electrical outlets. I thought the rule was no electricity in the shower. But the water pressure was sadly lacking. I have at least learned to always check for hot water before undressing. Cold showers are not for me.
On the way back to Ziggy the smell of bacon cooking got my attention. It would be nice to cook bacon and eggs but it is so hard to buy the proper amount of anything. I have yet to see less than a pound of bacon at small groceries as they have in Surry. That would last me weeks. And what about buying two eggs. Either you buy a dozen or you buy six, but you don't buy two. And imagine asking for two eggs and two slices of bacon. That would suit my needs. Then if I buy a pound of bacon and a dozen eggs I have to buy ice to keep them fresh until they are consumed or stay plugged into electricity. I should really get the propane aspect of my refrigerator fixed or learn how to use it. After my thoughts for the morning it was time for my fifteen minute free ferry ride that would take me right past Jamestown.
And a hot but joyful day it was. I left the campsite with my neighbor across the way playing, or learning to play the harmonica. I hoped he would either learn or be finished before I returned from a road trip to Yorktown. I arrived at the ferry along the shortcut I found on one of my brochures. What a pleasant trip through backwoods Virginia.
I wandered in the Jamestown gift shop for I know not what reason and did buy some lip balm. Then it was a leisurely drive down the colonial parkway stopping at each and every pull off to read the historical markers. I marveled at what a fun place that must be to ride on a SeaDoo as the waterways meandered through green somethings growing on either side and seem to all interconnect with other waterways. What a way to explore! This parkway towards Yorktown looks like what I think a parkway should. The trees on a sunny day competed for the sunlight over the middle of the three lane road and provided nice shade and interesting shadows.
I wasn't overly surprised to find a Civil War reenactment happening at Yorktown but I tend to forget it was also a Civil War battlefield. I found myself watching men dressed in proper attire perform on the edge of the battlefield. Then after a demonstration by the sharpshooters, which was the first I had heard of anyone wearing green uniforms in the Civil War, the confederates performed on their horses. I bought a pass for a mere $4.00 and toured the park's display before driving down the hill to the river for a Greek salad and clam chowder in the tavern. The tavern was quite crowded but the food was just in time as it was already after 1:30. Time does fly when you are having fun. The beach was lined with holiday seekers of fun as were all the parking areas along the parkway. It was nice to see so many people enjoying the day. And it was so nice to know that I was only a ferry ride away from where I would spend the night and that on Tuesday they would all be back at work or in school.
After lunch it was back to the parking lot at the visitor's center and I was off for a walking tour of Yorktown. The streets are blocked during the day but it is a fairly small area. This is the section that I missed on my previous flying trip through Yorktown. And what a miss it was.
Yorktown was established in 1691 to regulate trade and to collect taxes on both imports and exports for Great Britain. By the early 1700s it was a major Virginia port and economic center. The waterfront was lined with wharfs, docks, storehouses, and businesses. On the bluff above the river, homes lined Main Street with taverns and other shops scattered throughout the town. Yorktown had 250-300 buildings and almost 2,000 people when in 1781 Lord Cornwallis brought his British army to town. Much of the town was destroyed and the 1790 census recorded only 661 people. A fire destroyed more of the town in 1814 and then the Civil War Siege of 1862 and occupation by Union troops added to the destruction.
The Moore House was the home of Augustine Moore and the location for the discussion of terms of surrender for Cornwallis' army. At one time this was known as Temple Farm which was bought by Laurence Smith, 8th g grandfather, either before or after the Revolutionary War. I of course arrived there at 4:30 thinking they would close at 5, but they had just closed for the day. This seems to be the way it works for me at Yorktown. There is just so much to see and do in the area.
I was delighted on my tour of town to stumble across the tombstones of Nicholas Martiau, his daughter Elizabeth, and her husband Col. George Read. They had a marker in front of a house that had been built where Martiau had lived. The tombstones had been found in the 1930s in an old cemetery on Buckner Street when they were excavating to build the street. A tour down that street made me realize it would have been at the back of his property. A descendant had the tombstones refurbished and moved to the Episcopal Church cemetery.
Then it was time for the 5 p.m. demonstration of Revolutionary War drums and fifes on Main Street in front of another Civil War encampment. I left to the sounds of drums and flutes and returned via the Colonial Parkway. What a marvelous experience the day had been. I had found street markers, tombstones, and old homeplaces which I had no idea still existed in the area.
I only had to wait about 30 seconds for the ferry to load and it provided a fine opportunity to fix a pb&j. I sure seem to eat a lot on ferries. Then it was a country drive back to Chippokes Plantation State Park. The temperature when I rode across the ferry at 6 p.m. was 90 degrees and a refreshing shower was soon in order.
Day 21 - Surry County, Va...Bacon's Castle, Hog Island, Flowerdew Hundred
A three day weekend can sure mess up the sequence of events when one chooses to spend time in court houses and libraries. After a crab cake and eggs breakfast at the Surrey House in Surry I was headed for the Flowerdew Hundred Museum.
By 1619, Sir George Yeardley had acquired the 1,000 acre tract and while an Indian massacre devastated most of the colony, Flowerdew was well fortified and only six people were killed there. Many of the surrounding residents fled to Flowerdew for safety during this time.
By 1624, there was a population of over sixty people and it was a thriving plantation. In 1625 there were 33 white indentured servants, 7 blacks, and 8 free tenants or craftsmen with their families. Of the men that had crossed the ocean on the Abigaille only two had survived.
In 1790 a William Peachy had acquired about 1000 acres in the middle section of Flowerdew and before he died in 1802 he had accumulated over 2000 acres. In 1808 his widow sold the land to Miles Seldon, previously of Williamsburg.
The anthropology major taking the weekend shift at the museum was a delightful young lady who answered my many questions and enjoyed my interest in the land. We hopped in her van for a tour of the grounds and a closer look at the windmill built to commemorate the original mill. As we drove along the James River teenage eagles flew from their perches in front of us and then we saw one mature eagle. We must have seen at least six along the way. I kept wanting to hop out for a picture but by the time we came to a stop those eagles were long gone. But what a pleasant drive!
The current owner of the property, an 85 year old man retired from New York, has accumulated the original 1400 acres and has built an extremely large home on the place. His grandchildren were zipping around the yard on go carts enjoying their holiday. The Flowerdew Hundred foundation was created and much archeological research has taken place. We noticed several marked areas where houses had been located along the river and I was informed they had located scores of graves all over the property.
I thanked the girl for the very interesting tour and meandered on up highway 10 to cross the river and travel down highway 5. The remainder of the drive was spent reading historical markers as I passed the plantations along the James River. This is one of my favorite drives passing by so many still standing old plantations open for tourists. It was an afternoon of forests, fields, flora, and fauna. I had thought I would tour one of the plantations but could never make up my mind which one. As I went through Charles City I veered onto the side street, the main street in the non existent old town, where I did locate the government buildings where historical information is housed. Again, all closed tightly for the holiday weekend.
Again I found myself driving onto the ferry, lucky to be the 3rd from the last car loaded. I thought I would therefore have a long wait to get off but the process was reversed upon docking. This day it was 92 degrees as I crossed about 5 p.m. headed back to the Surrey House for ham croquettes, slaw, stewed tomatoes, and peanut & raisin pie to go. This is one of those restaurants that I am always happy to find when on a trip. Makes up for my cooking every time.
I passed my park entrance and wandered on down highway 634 to view Bacon's Castle. I stopped alongside the road to tour a very old cemetery and church that was built in the 17th century and burned much later. The brick structured walls were being held together by metal braces erected by the APVA. The only familiar name I saw was a Croshaw but the entire scene was indeed historic. There are old cemeteries dotting the countryside in this area. Some churches have no cemeteries and many old house places have small plots near them.
Bacon's Castle is located just down the road from Chippokes. It was built in 1665 by immigrant Arthur Allen and is one of the oldest brick houses still standing in North America. The APVA bought it in 1973 for the preservation of Virginia antiquities. One of Nathaniel Bacon's men seized the home of Major Arthur Allen, the builder's son, to establish and fortify an outpost which led to the present name of the home.
Nearby also is the location of Smith's Fort which was built in 1609 as a retreat for Jamestown in the event of an attack. It served as a second line of defense against the Indians and the Spanish. An 18th century dwelling stands on the site today. So much to see and do in Virginia.
On down the road I was on Hog Island. Settlers living at 'Hog Iland' in Virginia February 4, 1624/5 included "Strachey, William . . . . . . . 17 Arrived on the Temperance in 1620." Earlier settlers had kept the hogs on this land and were leaving when they saw the ship returning to Jamestown. I then wandered the almost two lane back roads back to my own plantation - Chippokes Plantation campground.
I was too tired to do much but had a leisurely bike ride along the James River and watched folks swimming and boating in the area below the visitor's center. After pie I almost made it to dark before going horizontal for the night.
Day 22 - Surry, Va to Gloucester, Va
I enjoyed ham and eggs at the Surrey House for breakfast but more enjoyed just hanging out with the locals. I visited with an older man who was the Revenue Commissioner for Surry County. He informed me that what I thought was wheat getting harvested was probably barley. The wheat perhaps isn't ready yet. They also grow a lot of peanuts in the area. Then another couple joined us at the bar and someone passed around a get well card for a woman who had surgery. The owner of the nearby factory that cures the ham was also there. This is to me a surefire way to know you have found the right restaurant.
I stopped by the Yorktown NPS visitor's center for a quick bathroom break and then drove down to the Moore House to see if perhaps it was open but no such luck. A quick $2 skip across the toll bridge and I was in Gloucester County with my Gloucester roster in hand. It seemed that half the county must have been at the Gloucester Point Park for Memorial Day as I promptly turned off 17 and drove down to the point.
I spent the rest of the afternoon touring the countryside. My first stop was at the Abingdon Parish Church or the Abingdon Episcopal Church, as it is now called. I kept going north on 17 reading historical markers along the way. One side trip took me down to the river near Timberneck Creek where I did get my feet wet at the boat launching ramp.
I turned when I saw the APVA sign for Warner Hall and three miles
down a winding country road there was the oversized white house with pillars at the gate informing me and anyone else that it was private property. I went on down the road and did see the locked gate with a sign advising that the cemetery was owned by the APVA, so over the wooden pigsty I went. It was a lovely field with a view of the river to my left and the house and outer buildings to my right. Some of the out buildings are original from the 17th century. I marveled at how such old tombstones were still readable in several instances. Of all the people that lived at Warner Hall I wondered where the others were buried and if not there, why not. It was well manicured and the old brick wall had a personality of its own. One could stand by the cemetery and imagine what life had been like on this plantation in long ago times. Acres of farmland abound, the river was on the edge of the land behind the house, and it appeared that life on this plantation would have been quite comfortable.
Then I drove into the small older downtown portion of Gloucester. What a cute square with small red brick buildings circling the square and facing the center.
On back to 17 and a few miles north took me to another old Episcopal Church, this one in Ware Parish. There I looked at more familiar names and was excited when I saw a well under the shade of its roof with a list of all those buried there. Again the last names were familiar, Booth, Cooke, Taliaferros. But I was soon to learn that many of the tombstones I was looking for were to be found on private property at the old homeplaces that existed before the churches and these were descendants. And of course it was all private property with the exception of the cemetery at Warner Hall. I immediately gained a great appreciation for the Association for the Preservation of Virginia.
I also seemed to have located the local watering hole. Many cars stopped to fill their water jugs so before I left I made sure to fill mine too. I have discovered what great places old churches are to stop for picnics. There are usually giant shade trees and privacy. I stopped in the shade at Abingdon Parish where I proceeded to prepare a pb&j, a cold drink of ice water and a can of fruit. It was very relaxing and peaceful and seemed an appropriate place for a Memorial Day picnic.
Back to the Gloucester Point Campground where I requested a spot on the Severn River. I indeed was the only one in the area right on the edge of the river. There was no shade but since it was seven p.m. it didn't matter. I went to sleep listening to fish or whatever splash in the river twenty feet from my bedroom screen window. This was not a fancy campground but more resembled a fishing village. But it seemed appropriate for the area.
Day 23 - Gloucester, Va to Urbanna, VaOn Tuesday morning it was a delight to think that all the holiday folks were back at work and places I wanted to visit might be open. I crossed the York River, onto the Colonial Expressway, off onto 199 and then north on 5 to Charles City. I began to feel like a local taking shortcuts to work rather than the tourist so excited to read all the markers and stop at every pullout on the Colonial Road.
At Charles City County, divided from James City County by the Chickahominy River, I located their historical room / library and was greeted by an older woman delighted to help locate whatever she could to assist me. Quite impressive. 
Beth Page Campground was 27.95 a night but quite a treat after the one that felt more like a fishing village the night before. Beth Page had a swimming pool, a lovely pond, game room, pavilion, horse shoes, boat access and more and was quite clean and nice. I guess after blt for supper a splurge was ok. I could have gone to town for seafood. Day 24 - Touring Gloucester, Va
After a relaxing Wednesday morning I was off for the Gloucester area once again. The lady in the museum mentioned that she lived down off 216 and I told her I had camped in the area. She wasn't too sure about the people down there - "they are Guineas and I can't really understand them."
Nice lady: "Well maybe I could help, I live on Guinea Road and have lived here all my life.:
Visitor: "So, can you understand those Guineas."
Lady: "Yes, I don't have any trouble, I am a Guineaman."
Visitor: "Oh, really! Tell me about them."
Guineaman: "Well they are a group of people that live over off Guinea Road that have lived there and fished for a living for a long time. They were isolated from people for so long that they more or less developed their own language that still resembles the British."
I remember then reading or hearing before about them and was pleased to know this Guineaman. She sold me a county map, the lifesaver of the day, for $2 and then we cross-referenced what I had highlighted with a red pencil at lunch in my newly acquired book on Gloucester County.
First I traveled up to Hill Road which turned down a narrow dirt trail leading to a few houses near the York River. There I located a cemetery and prepared to wander about "The Hills." Then I went further down the road to look at the tourist attraction I had heard about earlier - Powhatan's Chimney. There was a reconstructed chimney that replaced what was supposedly a chimney that was left from Powhatan's days. One story told me he used it to send smoke signals. It was supposed to have been a part of his house built by John Smith. Gloucester County grew rapidly in the 17th century and many land grants were issued to European gentry to farm the fertile soil in the area. During the 17th and 18th centuries it was one of the richest counties with many grand plantations. The access to the Chesapeake Bay caused it to be ravaged during the Civil War but with the steamship lines that ran between West Point, Norfolk and Baltimore the citizens clustered in small villages along the banks of the surrounding rivers. They not only profited from the steamship trade, but there was rich fishing and harvesting of seafood.
Hunters evidently have caused problems using their grounds and ruining their roads. So I was never sure whether to proceed down roads covered with no trespassing signs since I don't carry a gun or to turn around. Down Warner Hall Road again I came to Severn Hall Lane. It was a narrow dirt road that led to a couple of small houses on the point. It was obvious an old plantation had been there. As I drove down the road a turkey ran ahead leading the way. Then it was back down the road to highway 636 to Bray's Point. It was supposedly the area where the Thrustons had lived at Lansdowne. My booklet showed that the house was still there but if so I didn't see it or know down which side road to look.
Her reply was, "Oh I imagine Virginia hospitality will see you through." And indeed it did. But there was also a lot I wanted to see and couldn't as cautious I am.
Day 25 - Urbanna to Gloucester again to King & Queen Co., Va
Thursday was definitely tour day. I had the hash browns, turkey bacon and eggs for breakfast again and it was off down the back roads to finish touring the plantations of Gloucester County. On down to Toddsbury, and again a narrow posted road took me towards the river but the trip was worth it to see the ice house. I figured sooner or later this would be the Todd family I was related to and indeed that turned out to be the case.
She invited me in and we sat and visited overlooking the Ware River. There had been an old house down near the water but it had been long gone. Her husband used to keep the three tombstones enclosed in a small fence cleared off but we would get a rake and hoe and clear them off a little.
and wanted so badly to go up to the place knowing that he was probably buried in the back yard. But a woman alone doesn't take those chances. I got the feeling that the place was probably not inhabited and that folks from other places have bought it. I later found out about the ghost stories that accompany the possibly haunted place.Day 26 - King & Queen Co., Va to Richmond, Va
What a lovely day Friday was to explore King and Queen County, Virginia. I began at the King & Queen C H where I jotted notes on kin folks and maybe kinfolks.The ladies in the office were most helpful and I got a "free" county map. I learned a distant cousin still lived on the original Walker tract I had known as Rye Field.
Then I was headed north to St. Stephens Church. From there I drove up to Newtown.On the way back I viewed Traveler's Rest, the road to Green Mount, the Old Church (upper Stratton Major) and stopped at Chain Ferry Landing. Here I asked about some old tombstones in the area. The guy at the end of the road told me his family had been there 200 years and didn't know of any. I went to the other end of the road where a man told me that the house at the corner was built on the foundation of the old warehouse and that there was an old cemetery up the road.
So I traveled past the row of houses and down through someone's field behind the houses. I went to the end of the road with no luck and then returning I saw a large clump of trees to my left. A venture across the field stepping over the plants got me to a fenced cemetery with a cute old rusted iron fence around it. But the undergrowth hid all secrets of the interior from me. I had made one big circle but indeed it was a lovely circle drive. I headed west to the Richmond area and the Pocahontas campground. At 7 p.m. I didn't want to see a campground full sign but there it was. I asked about a site and after waiting for the crowd to clear I got a place. There were plenty of empty places that had been reserved for Saturday. I assured them I would be gone before the Saturday folks arrived.
Day 27 - Pocahontas State Park near Richmond to Hanover County, Va
What a glorious day on the back roads of Virginia Saturday was. The sky was painted with some pale white clouds and the sun shone brightly. The temperatures appeared to be in the upper 80s with a low humidity. I left Pocahontas and changed my mind at least three times as to which direction I was going. But early morning reading brought new discoveries and I figured being Saturday libraries and offices would be closed which was what I needed. And off I went back in the direction I had come to New Kent County again.
I went into New Kent CH and saw some mighty cute buildings. The sign for the Historical Society was on an old jail and inside in one of the two cells they had some tax receipts stored. I wondered if they had more information elsewhere but as it seemed I was the only person in town I would not find out."Are they nice people in case I go where I shouldn't."
"Yeah, he's pretty nice."
And he was pretty nice. He wondered if I knew what Chemokins meant as they had changed the spelling to Shimokins. Or maybe he never knew how to spell it. He wondered how I had heard about it. He evidently is not interested in genealogy. There was a nice view of the Pamunkey River several hundred yards from his house. Kids were practicing soccer in the front yard, and the ground was so dry that dust flew everywhere as I drove in.
My next stop was the CH in Hanover County. It seemed quite strange to sit in the library and send email while looking out the window at the building where on December 1, 1763 Patrick Henry lighted the torch of liberty in the Parson's Cause.
Down from the Hanover CH was one of the old churches that had replaced the older St. Paul's Parish church. I was surprised to see a white church with a tall steeple rather than a brick one. Patrick Henry had been the preacher there and his more famous nephew, Patrick, had given one of his speeches nearby at the old building in the town square. Of course I drove off on Patrick Henry Road. But still no sign of John Henry.There was no problem getting a spot at King's Dominion several miles north of Hanover CH and what a setup. Camping now takes on a different look in Virginia. Nearby is Paramount's theme park and a shuttle runs periodically between the park and campground. There is a swimming pool and all sorts of amenities as there should be for $24 per day. What a place to bring kids - a game room, swimming pool, playground, and a nearby theme park. Too bad I had to pay the same rates just to sleep, but that's the way it is in the camping world.
Day 28 - Hanover, Va to Westmoreland State Park
Sunday morning began a bit hazy and I was worried the sun wouldn't shine but that was not the case. As I drove down the road I saw a historical marker and was quite
surprised to read about a race horse. It was for Meadow Farm where Secretariat was born. How nice that famous horses get on the list of APVA signs also. Not far from there I passed another farm where a baby fawn evidently had been born and he was nosing his way over to a clump of trees near the road.I couldn't resist a return to Hanover CH to find the Slash Church. I located Slash Christian Church, 1729, in what seemed to me like the middle of nowhere. All of the church goers were just leaving and there I was wandering around in shorts and a tank top. I met Dianne, the historian for the church and we visited a long time. She told me about Lois that was well versed on where things were in town.
I gave Lois a call and she was very kind to meet me at the Hanover Library to show me the hole where the foundation of John Henry's home,
Studley Plantation, had been. We had a lovely tour of the peaceful countryside that took us by Patrick Henry's honeymoon cottage and the house his in-laws had lived in.I studied my map and decided on Westmoreland State Park and I would definitely go to Maryland on Monday. As I went through Tappahannock I looked to the right at the historic district that led straight to the Potomac River. It looked like a must return.
I stopped in the camp store for a little shopping fix. How could I resist graham crackers, marshmallows, and hersheys. They had the cutest tiny box of grahams but I had to buy six month's worth of marshmallows. The campers behind had left six nice logs they had purchased so I helped myself. The camp store clerk, a cute forty something guy in navy shorts, white shirt, and tennis shoes with blonde hair agreed I could return my groceries if I couldn't start a fire. I had no problem starting a fire and s'mores ended the day. And what a day. Sunshine - eighties - big trees - back roads - nice people, for the most part - beer on Sunday - s'mores.
Day 29 - Westmoreland State Park, Va to Charles County, Md
The Monday morning started out so beautifully. I traveled north on 3 and passed a sign for George Washington's birthplace. Why not? It was only two miles off the road. What a fine exhibit the national park service has. There was a reconstructed home on Pope's Creek and timelines and sketches for other members of the family. One display explained how tobacco was loaded on ships while you looked out over the river and imagined the past.
What a surprise to find a cemetery and ancesors located here.After a tour and a bike ride from the cemetery down to the Potomac I once again headed north. The area was beautifully landscaped. Then looming ahead was that bridge in the sky that would take me to Maryland. My legs got weak and I breathed a deep breath. This would be a bridge where I would take the center lane, but there wasn't any center lane. It was a two lane bridge so I kept my eye on the center yellow double stripe and crossed the Potomac with no trouble.
I stopped at the visitor's center in Maryland and got some maps and directions to Port Tobacco. I took the back road to Port Tobacco where the swallows dive bombed and warned me to stay away from the reconstructed well house. The museum and old courthouse was closed and there were markers denoting where the town once had been. The railroad had come through LaPlata and hence the demise of Port Tobacco. I went on around to a corner store and found out that there was camping with shade at Goose Bay. I had just passed a thermometer on the highway that read 102 degrees.Many boats are parked in Goose Bay and the area is peaceful with more space than the others I have seen. Birds were everywhere. An osprey nested over the water guarding her young, and the bluebirds and tufted titmouses didn't seem to mind company as they went about feeding their young.
Day 30 - Stranded in LaPlata, MdTuesday was not the best of days but it surely could have been worse. After I worried all night and morning about the vehicle getting over the bridge I went to La Plata looking for a volkswagon mechanic. I was glad to have my bike as I would spend some time riding around town with two wheels instead of four while they fixed it - the next day.
I managed to locate the approximate vicinity of the Mattwoman Village and knew it was too near the traffic for me. At that point I realized how the outskirts of Washington D.C. were expanding into the area. Once I got there I doubted anyone would know where the village had been or where Joseph Bullitt was buried. It was at the north end of the county with new construction obviously not worried about past plantations and tombstones.
I headed back to my new home on Goose Bay, picked up a 99 cent burger along the way, and enjoyed the breeze and hot weather. The ice cream bars I discovered the night before with little chocolate surprises inside and crunchies on the outside were still there. But, the ice cream man had been by that day and left little containers of cookie ice cream that was proportioned perfectly. The owner warned me it was $2 but he didn't seem to understand that was not the issue. Ice cream at bedtime was.
The breeze eventually stopped and I was thankful for the little fan and electricity. I had also been thankful to find a vw mechanic and what the problem was. This would have been the time to be back down where the fine swimming pools were. I would for sure have been in one.
Day 31 - Charles County, Md to Lorton, Va
Wednesday was one hot day in Maryland. I limped back up the highway pulling off to let the busy going to work people pass and picked up an egg mcmuffin at McDonald's.I dropped the van off, unloaded the bicycle and headed off for the library. I stopped up the hill at the Town Hall where they had a gazebo with large hanging pots of bright red geraniums surrounding it and a picnic table in the middle. It was the perfect breakfast picnic spot.
At the library I was quite successful looking up my new kinfolks and the folks there were also quite helpful. I rode back over to the Serendipity Shop, a most darling little knick knack place, and picked out some small, easy to mail and pack birthday gifts. I could have done my Christmas shopping right there. The kind lady told me where the post office was and about the restaurant across the street. I thanked her for being my personal Chamber of Commerce person and she asked me to be careful on that bicycle.
After sending the package it was time for my Maryland crab cake. What a fine restaurant this was. I had a most delicious crab cake made with lump crab. The onion rings were perhaps the best I ever had. For $18.95 I guess it should have been good. The place had atmosphere and I would go again and again if it were closer. I read the Washington Post while waiting for my meal. The front page headlines I didn't need. The temperature in the Washington area had broken a century old record. Schools with no air conditioners had let out early, electrical problems and water shortages were common. All anybody was talking about was the weather. We were about 30 miles from Washington, D.C.
I picked up the van with it's gutted catalytic converter and I then made a quick tour of lower Charles County. I drove past Goose Bay to Welcome where Joseph Bullitt had patented land. I stopped back by Rose Hill, the first place I had gone before I knew I was kin to anyone there. Then over to the block church they had moved block by block from Port Tobacco. 
As I drove south towards the bridge I decidedto go to Rich Hill. After looking at the people sitting out under the tree I decided to go forward and ask for sure if that was the proper place. The family that lives there now was quite friendly. The old man was obviously embarrassed that he didn't have on a shirt and his daughter seemed concerned that the place was a mess when I asked if I could take a picture. They explained how the house had been much larger and told about the foundations they find for all the other buildings that used to be nearby. They find old coins in 
the front yard even when just washing the cars. They pointed out a couple of indentions in the yard where they said a couple of graves are. I asked about the rock nearby that appeared to be a tombstone. The daughter told me about the x on the other side. I asked about the hole underneath and she was the one who had made that. I think she must have thought there was treasure buried there. They were aware that it was the old Doctor Brown home place and also that it was where John Wilkes Booth hid out after he shot Lincoln. Of course, anyone would know that reading the signs along the road. The father commented, " My daughter 
thinks she had apparitions sort of, you know. And she sometimes has them about this house. We found old canes, some with pearl handles, in the closet when we moved in. We just put them out in the shed in case they belong to someone. They may have been some old Colonels, you know."After a visit I was off to the last location in the county. The William and Mary Parish near Pickawaxon Creek. I stopped at the old Pickawaxon Parish church and then was off for Virginia and cooler weather.
It seemed again like I was off the plateau and the two lane roads were tree lined and just seemed cooler. I traveled north through Stafford, Dumfries, and other small towns not on my map hoping to make it to Lorton. The neighborhood was not looking like a place I wanted to camp. And as I got closer to Washington it was apparent that in the morning the road might be bumper to bumper but at 8 p.m. there was not much traffic. As dusk descended I got a little nervous that I would violate rule #1 - Never drive after dark! - but I was determined to at least check out the Pohick Campground.
Once I turned onto Gunston Rd. the area seemed delightful. This po hick arrived at Pohick just at dusk, picked up the envelope for my $15 and immediately located a spot. I unloaded the bike, paid my dues and took a shower. How refreshing!
I couldn't understand what the North Virginia Regional campground was all about - obviously further investigation was needed but what a delightful campground. Then I passed the sign to inform me of the 1 mile trail to Gunston Hall. What a delight. A 1 mile bike ride over to Gunston Hall on Thursday could be a fine way to start the day.
Day 32 - Gunston Hall to Stafford, Va
What a difference a day made in the weather.
I was off for a delightful trail ride over to Gunston Hall. I visited with the people there and found out that this was the James Mason plantation. They had a nice display, gift shop, and tour of the plantation all for $5. After I sat on the porch of the plantation for awhile listening to the stuffy old English gent with too bushy eyebrows I felt this was not the tour for me. All I wanted to do was look through the house. More enjoyable was watching the Pest Control company catch the six foot long black snake living in the large oak tree. As I walked near the tree he motioned "Move over on this side." I walked to the right of the trail nearer the truck. "We are waiting for that snake to come out so we can move him to a different area. They are having some bigwigs out tomorrow for a party and don't want the snake there. He and another shorter one live in the tree and go over to raid the hen house." While we sat on the porch the snake did come out and they very carefully held him still with a rake, picked him up and put him in a large black trash bag. Off went the snake and so should I.At 11:45 I told the too polite gentleman I had to go check on my camper so I didn't even look at the upstairs but thoroughly enjoyed the bike ride back down the trail through the woods. I headed north to my next destination and in 30 minutes was at the mini library in Dumfries. There is so much new construction and congestion in the area it was hard to find the old. I stopped at the old town hall and was told to go see Jennie up the hill at the house next to the museum. The historical group is updating an old house to have a genealogy room and collection which will open in two days. They were quite polite and told me how to get to Bullitt's Hill.
A lovely drive down Possum Point Rd. led me to the Virginia Power Company in the area where View Mount, the Bullitt home had been. The Power Company was evidently built on land that was to have been the town of Newport on the Quantico and Potomac. They had run a power line through the old Bullitt cemetery in the 1950s destroying it according to notes found at the soon to be historical house.On down the road I passed the county park, Locust Shade Park, which was in the area that had been the home of Burr Harrison with the same name. It seems that Quantico Air Base took over the home that had belonged to other ancestors and moved some of the tombstones to Aquia Church at Stafford, nine or so miles south.
I located Aquia Pines Campground and got a nice spot nestled among tall pines with the feeling of privacy that I like.
Day 33 - Stafford County, Va to Fredericksburg to Culpeper, Va
What a vital part of the area it had been and not so much as a creek marker did I see. I saw the sign for the old tobacco warehouse nobody had seemed to know where was, and there along the Chappawamsic Creek I explored what was left of a road that went to what was left of a bridge. Indeed, Chappawamsic had silted in as this would have been no thriving port in its current condition.
I went on down to Quantico Marine Base and asked if there were any remnants of the old Dipple homesite. I knew the answer but the kind gate guard checked for me just in case. They were in Alpha alert which I was informed "It is just a heightened security measure. We check vehicles more carefully than usual."
On north I turned toward Independent Hill and traveled alongside the Prince William National Forest on winding forested roads. There was indeed no Westwood at Independent Hill or anything much other than a church and store. A different route led me back to Dumfries. On Friday's I always try to stay on top of things. I avoid larger cities from 3 in the afternoon and try not to wait for dark to find a home for the evening. This was no exception as Fredericksburg was on the list for the day. Actually it was on yesterday's list but it is seldom possible to accomplish so much in one day. I was amazed that I knew in one day where the Harrisons, Bullitts, and Scotts had lived and where they were buried. Well, at least for the most part.
I traveled south again on highway 1, still not congested, over the rolling hills.
It seemed that the creeks ran from right to left or left to right depending on whether I was going north to south creating level areas between the hills. I arrived back in the area north of Stafford and pulled into the Aquia Episcopal Church parking lot just south of Aquia Creek.
The secretary was most helpful. I was provided with a brochure about the church, a list of the people buried there and information on those moved from Dipple when Quantico demolished their home area in 1942. She kind lady showed me out to the most remarkable tombstones I have ever seen.
I went on to Fredericksburg and finally located Fall Hill, where else but on Fall Hill Road. This was the Thornton family home. Most of the neighborhood didn't seem to know it existed. What a special treat. Tenants live in the upstairs of the house, in the old school house, in the old kitchen, and even on the other side of the basement. Christie met me as she was leaving. I dropped the owner's name and was given a tour of the most fascinating old house. Old was everywhere. It was in the works with the National Park Service and before long family would probably pay to see a renovated place. I wanted to stay and tour Fredericksburg and go to the big cemetery as well as Kenmore to see other Thornton burials but thought I had better head out of town as it was 3 p.m. on a Friday. Later I regretted that decision.A drive about 30 miles west took me to the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. That I knew without looking on a map as I approached Culpepper, Va. At the library there I was disappointed to not be able to use the internet since they only had four stations and I wasn't a patron. Not that any patrons were using it! I looked at a county map, learned where the old part of town and St. Mark's Parish was, and headed to the campground several miles south of town for the night. It was a quiet place which suited me perfectly for $15. I was tired of paying for rivers and swimming pools that I didn't use.
Day 34 - Culpeper and Orange, Va
What a Saturday in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Rolling hills, farms, pastures, distant mountains and historic little towns sure competed with Lancaster, Pennsylvania and Giles County, Tennessee for pretty places I have been. The back roads from the campground led me to Orange and a brief visit to the library.
I drove one mile east of the courthouse looking for the Taylor cemetery at Dick Burton's place. Nobody seemed to know where that was. I guess that is what
happens when you use a book written 100 years ago. I measured again and turned left on the road that was exactly one mile east. Newer houses were in the subdivision and a party was going on in the front yard of one. I stopped and shared what I was looking for. One guy finally told me to go to the next corner and turn left and it was behind the cinder block wall on my left. And indeed it was. One foot higher and I would have had to have a stool to climb over. It was quite covered in undergrowth and the only obvious stone was that of Erasmus Taylor, died 1715.Then I headed back through town passing St. Thomas' Parish.
As I turned up the road to Meadowfarm built in 1722 I met a truck leaving. I knew I shouldn't be there but I felt I had a right. They were my ancestors too. Dale and I visited and he told me to go on up and talk to the secretary, Kim , and tell her Dale sent you. "She (the owner) will never know you are there. She stays inside." And Dale grinned. He knew I was more like him than like my so distant cousin who owns God only knows how many acres of the most gorgeous rolling meadowland I ever saw.We walked among giant boxwoods to a cemetery. If this didn't represent an English manor then I can't imagine what would. Kim referred to it as the manor.
I told Kim I was hoping to go to Bloomsbury and she offered to drive up and unlock the gate. What a cute house sitting on the lovely hillside overlooking the meadows.I took a different route back to Culpeper and stopped in the library there. South to 29 led me past KFC and a $5 box of chicken and on back to my campground. This was graduation day in Culpeper and a family was throwing quite a get together 1/2 block from my bedroom. The group noise wasn't bad but the band was invading my space. I hoped they wouldn't play until late in the night and they didn't. However, when the odor of skunk invaded my space during the night it sure woke me up.
Day 35 - Culpeper to Barboursville to Louisa, Va
I didn't leave camp til about noon and headed back into Culpeper to wander through the old part of town once more. Then I was headed south for the forks of the
Robinson River and Crooked Creek just over the line in Madison County. I did find the "eminent hill that arose from the banks of the river" and found myself hollering out the window at the maid that was doing laundry for the bed & breakfast. I met the couple that runs the bed & breakfast and had a nice visit with each. She agreed that it was the home Joshua Fry's son Henry now called Meander Bed and Breakfast. It was quite a plantation and at the foot of the eminent hill across a bean field was the family cemetery. It was a bit grown up and had a crumbling brick wall with quite interesting curved bricks around the top. I felt quite a sense of accomplishment to have located this fantastic place.I then went to Orange again. After reading my
notes I realized there was a home at Greenfield where the Taylor cemetery was located. I had only gone to the back side of the property when I visited the cemetery. I drove down a lane to a fine old colonial home guarded by the trees surrounding it. It was a handsome tall red brick house. Then further out of town I found Midland, Col. George Taylor's home. It was hard to see the house even though I drove close from the road. It was circled with huge boxwoods, or a plant that resembles such.I stopped back in the visitor's center at the train station and a very knowledgeable man obviously interested in history was awakened by my entry. He was most helpful and gave me a county map where we marked some destinations. He explained that the entire area including Orange and Culpepper had been part of St. Mark's parish. When they formed St. Thomas in Orange, St. Mark's stayed with Culpeper.
I went back by the St. Thomas Church to admire the stained glass which was hard to do from outside. Then I went towards Barboursville, hoping to find the Bloomingdale that was near Somerset and the railway station. I had no such luck. If it were on the main road the name had been changed.
On to Barboursville, just a few miles
down the road and the family cemetery there. Gov. James Barbour, a nephew of Thomas, had built a home that had burned and the remains tower over you on the hill, complete with giant boxwoods growing all about. The area is now the Barboursville winery with fields of grapes and a tour of the winery for visitors. And I chose the cemetery instead. How focused!I then drove down toward Charlottesville. The North Castle Hill properties were so plentiful up and down the road I was overwhelmed and didn't know where to start or stop. Back in my little office it was be time to study my notes some more. I don't know why I thought I was going to find a charming little house in an old area of downtown. That was before I learned the way these Virginia folks had lived. Plantation after plantation covered the exquisite rolling hills planted with alternating fields of barley and corn or soybeans.
Mountains arose in the distance. The hills rolled on into Charlottesville and I turned left, got on 64 and just rolled on out. At Louisa I took 4 or 5 turns and traveled 7 miles or so off 64 to my camping spot for the night. I took a bike ride down to the lake and rode around getting lost in the woods at one point. I finally was riding along the edge of the lake and came to a barbed wire fence. I wasn't back tracking so the bike and I went over the fence and managed to get around the end of the lake and back down the other side. I would have preferred a nice level marked trail but it was an experience. At one point I could picture me getting lost in the woods and spending the night out there. Day 36 - Charlottesville, Va to Louisa, Va again
Charlottesville is a misnomer here as Castle Hill is north of town. So there was no visit of Charlottesville, a lovely town to explore on another trip, I am sure. Monday began with excitement as I was off to explore unknown areas. Late night reading led me to know I was on the wrong road looking for Castle Hill, and indeed Castle Hill North was north of Castle Hill as the crow flies. I stopped at a little market at the intersection to find out what I could and whether to go left or right.
"Do you know who lives at Castle Hill?"
"Yes, a man from Florida. He was just in here. He comes up for the summer."
"Can you give me his name so I can call or tell me how to get there?"
"I don't know his name but it is a couple miles north of here and runs several miles up the road. There is a gate and I doubt you can get in. There is a back way in if you go further up and turn left."
Well the gentleman from Florida had left the gate open and I drove
across rolling foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains that were lined with white board fences for what seemed forever. Old trees led the way and I finally came to the largest house in what I later realized was a compound. Many small outbuildings, some not so small, were around the area. I knocked on the front door as there was no door bell and didn't even arouse the large collie sleeping inside. I wandered all about calling "Hello" and even honked the horn. Still no response. I was disappointed not to find anyone and drove over to the nearby cemetery and was again disappointed to find the Rives buried there and no sign of Thomas Walker. I would imagine he was elsewhere on the property but what was I to do but travel on.I was determined to find Bloomingdale on 231 near Somerset and the rr station. I stopped in the post office near Somerset and the train station, a converted trailer, and inquired of the postmistress.
"I can't give out any street addresses."
"I don't want a street address, just to know which road it is on."
"I can't give out any information."
"Well this is my third trip up and down this road. Can you tell me if it is on this road." Of course I didn't mind as the curving road that meandered through the countryside dotted with large country estates was indeed pleasurable.
"No, I can't."
"Well can you confirm that it is on a side road. I don't want to visit. I just want to see the property where one of my grandfather's lived."
"Have you tried the other side of highway 20?"
"You mean on this same road?"
"Yes."
And we both grinned.
Sure enough, fifty yards on the other side of the highway I hadn't crossed was Bloomingdale. I drove in front of a large yellow house quite hidden by trees and wondered when I turned around what the rock that appeared to be a tombstone was. But it was lying on its side and I saw nobody around of whom to inquire so on to the north to look for the previous owner, Thomas Barbour's, father.
I went to Madison in Madison County and visited the tourist center, the sports shop where "the local history buff" works, and the library.I drove out to the creek near the Hebron church hoping someone could clue me in as to the whereabouts of the Smith Cottage with James Barbour's tombstone, but nobody seemed to have a clue.
Madison was a very quaint and very old town with the main street running what seemed parallel to the mountains. All of the buildings seemed well preserved and looked 19th century. Signs for the Shenandoah National Park kept tempting me. This would be a fine place to access the Blue Ridge Mountains.
But I returned to Orange for the third day in a row and then it was back down the road to Louisa where I had first gone to find out the library didn't open until one. About 6:30 I decided to return to my peaceful spot of the previous night. Not the fanciest campground, but quiet. And the hardest one I have ever tried to locate. These Virginia back roads go everywhere. A small fire was a great accomplishment and provided me a few roasted marshmallows. One forgets how good they can be.
Day 37 Louisa to Hanover, Va again
It is hard to imagine a retired librarian spending the day in a library but that was basically the plan for Tuesday. I stopped by the Louisa courthouse and then went to Hanover County and the library I tried to visit over a week ago. What a big circle I had made!
About 6:30 I decided it was time to return to the King's Dominion campground for the evening. I matched my previous record on copies, 140, but at $21 that was cheaper than any of the books I had used. I was on the way to Scottsville, south of Charlottesville, where Joshua Fry had lived. First it was a crab cake sandwich in the restaurant across the street.
I then descended into Scottsville. The river road I had driven fairly much paralleled the James River although I couldn't see it.
The library lady had told me there was nothing at Scottsville, but nothing was what was in between. There was the cutest old town, very small, rising in all directions from the banks of the James River. A visit to their tiny library that still had an Apple IIe set up, gave me a map and directions to View Mont, north on the road to Charlottesville. I climbed out of town on the narrow two lane road that had quite a bit of traffic and stopped at the Hardware River where Carter's Bridge crossed. Then back less than a mile south I ventured down Fry's Path, a gravel road with giant trees shading it, and imagined how Fry had taken his visitors down this road over two hundred years ago to be in the shade and enjoy the view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. If highway 6 across to 29 was a dotted scenic road, the one I took down to Esmont would have been triple dots as I wound back down to the river's edge on a narrow country road dotted with farms and one lane bridges.
I traveled down 29 south far enough to locate my home for the evening on the banks of Lake Nelson. I had been headed south and west most of the day and realized it was for real. It was time to continue south and west. I debated going onto the Blue Ridge Parkway but I still think the beauty of mountains is to see how the folks in the area are living and to view the mountains. After all this was a genealogy trip and my ancestors weren't living in the mountains.
Day 38 - Scottsville to Chatham, Va
The morning that I later found out was Thursday began with a steady drizzle and as much as the farmers needed it who could mind.
I located Clifford, Va which is nothing but a sign on the road and I drove all around looking for Winton not realizing it was now the country club.
The Sarah Winston Henry APVA sign denoted she was buried "in a cluster of trees several hundreds of yards west." Finally I found an ancestor's tombstone with all the amenities it should have, on a country club golf course. Perhaps more old plantations should be country clubs. The house and grounds were well maintained and it was accessible. I drove to the golf clubhouse and the young guys standing around under a shed in the back pointed to the cemetery.
I don't understand why she is listed as the mother of Patrick Henry on her tombstone. What about all her other children? I, of course went to the club house to find the rest room, and was the only woman in the place.
All the men were sitting around talking, drinking coffee, and dressed in their golf garb as if they didn't know it would be raining. I wondered why none of them were at work on Thursday morning.The rest of the day was spent in the library at Chatham, the county seat for Pittsylvania County learning more about relatives.
A few miles down the road led to a delightful campground on Swan Lake, no swans - but plenty of Canada geese and mallards. There also were goats and sheep to add to the atmosphere and a barking dog.
Day 39 - Chatham, Va to Caswell County, NC to Danville, Va
At last I found Red House, North Carolina on a beautiful sunny Friday. I crossed the Dan River at Pittsylvania and in Yanceyville, NC located a county map that showed me not only where the Hart's Country Line Creek is south of Yanceyville, but also where Red House is located. I stopped by the court house and located wills for Henry Dixon, Sr and Jr. but they wouldn't allow copying of the old books.
Red House is a real mixture of the old and newer. A rural area with log cabins dotted the countryside and it was obviously a busier place in the past than presently.
The Red House Presbyterian Church was formed in 1756. A perusal of the cemetery surrounding it let me know many old farmers were left with nothing but time weathered tombstones that showed only where they were buried, but no longer gave a clue as to who they were.
I decided that on a Friday afternoon I wanted no part of interstate 40 near a large city in North Carolina and headed back north towards Danville, Va to the lovely campground on Swan Lake. I crossed the Dan River just as I crossed into Virginia and knew I was close to the 640 acres where Henry Dixon, Jr. had lived. There was a lovely pasture with cattle bordering the river as I crossed the bridge and I wondered what had been there 200 years before.
Back at Swan Lake they had no small containers of milk and in a hungry moment I bought a dozen eggs and a pound of bacon. I knew what I would be eating for breakfast all the way home. A brief bike ride along the small lake left me ready for the Dinty Moore beef stew I had picked up for supper.
Day 40 - Danville, Va to Denver, NC to Asheville, NC
I finally left Virginia and left behind the plantations and runs and blooming orange daylilies and blue hydrangeas that seem to be everywhere along the back roads and drove along Memorial Drive that ran beside the Dan River in Danville. 
I stopped on a hill near the visitor center for North Carolina to partake of the view across the valley through which the river ran. I had left behind places that weren't towns but court houses and cities that were within the county geographically but not in the county. When a city reaches a certain size it can choose whether to remain in the county or not. They do some things differently in Virginia, but as one person told me "We are not a state, we are a commonwealth." I observed more wealth than common.
I couldn't resist returning to Denver, North Carolina to find the Machpelah church and look around some more. I soon realized what a populated town this was becoming along the lake that the Catawba River had provided. Each road that ran down to the lake was being developed with very large houses and it was apparent that the Charlotte work force filled the roads each morning and afternoon of what appeared to have been a quiet area for a long time. Towns growing like this seem to have so many people that have just moved there and know where nothing was 200 years ago.
I was off for Asheville and a trip this time to the Biltmore. I was as awed by its size as the mountains I had traveled through to get there. At last I was visiting a house where no kinfolks had lived.
Day 41 - Asheville, NC to Newport, Tn
A leisurely drive through the Appalachians led me down hill to Newport, Tn and a peaceful afternoon beside a creek. I got there too early it seemed and by 7 I had finished my dinner - a foot long cheese coney from Sonic, had my refreshments and already roasted marshmallows. All that was left was a visit to the office for some ice cream.
Everything seemed to rise uphill from the Pigeon River, alongside which ran the railroad tracks. I did locate the court house and library but never saw a cemetery, old or new. Further investigation on Monday should lend clues.
I feel as though I have begun downhill and am on the way home. The weather has been maybe 80 and the mornings quite cool. But as June nears the end, that could change at any time.
Day 42 - Newport, Tn to Crossville, Tn
Monday in Newport, Tennessee was not at all the kind of day I had expected. I first went to the courthouse and looked at old deed books. Most everything in Cocke County was burned preceding 1872 except for old book 17, as it was called. Someone must have had it at home when the others were destroyed. Then across the railroad tracks I checked for wills, here again nothing prior to 1872.
My next stop was the library. I learned all about the Allens and located the John "The Bricklayer" Cemetery on the hill above the intersection of Dark Hollow Road and Wilton Springs Road. With the help of a gas station attendant I located the road. I saw the steep hill on one side covered with trees and the Pigeon River on the other side of Dark Hollow Road. But I didn't see a way to the top.
A venture down to the gas station across the bridge gave me new insight. It was like I had been too close to the forest to see the trees."Oh, yeah. Its up there. You can see it from here."
And there on the top of the rounded hill amid the green with mountains all about was the cemetery. "If you go past Dark Hollow Road to the second house on the left she can show you how to get up there."
Georgie was also a descendant of Bricklayer John and I let her know we were cousins. The delightful 80 year old woman showed me the road to go up but I would have to open two gates and then shut them so the horses wouldn't get out. We visited a minute and then "If you wait a minute and let me get my shoes I will go with you." And off Georgie and I went between barns, across the horse pasture and up the hill to a most gorgeous view with mountains in a 360 degree radius from where we stood.
To our east was Haws Mountain and then another and in the distance to the east the Blue Ridge Mountain. When we got back to the road she volunteered, "You want to see where Bricklayer John lived? Just cross the road and go down that drive. Now park over there in the shade and there should be a plank if hits still there." Plank wasn't the word she used but it was a new term for me that meant a board lying across the creek underneath. "These boards may be rotten. Here let me go first." We walked into the yard of some people from Myrtle Beach that had built on the creek and didn't want the neighbors trespassing. Georgie owned the land the bricklayer's house had been on which had stood just beside an old store and post office. At one time the road had run through there. There was a deep spring nearby which seemed to be dried up and then 25 paces to Cosby Creek, a shallow but swiftly flowing waterway that intersected with the Pigeon River nearby. It was a beautiful setting and she told me how they used to have an old cook stove down there and the neighbors on the other side of the creek would come over Saturday night for a cookout. It was a most serene place under the shade of big walnut trees. We dug a brick from the ground as well as a little tiny one that we presumed bricklayer John had made. Bricklayer John was labeled such to distinguish him from his son Shortfinger John and another Sheriff John that was no kin. At last I thought maybe it is no wonder that I liked all those red bricks in Virginia...perhaps genetics played a part.
Georgie then wanted to take me for a ride around her farm. After she had been so gracious how could I resist although it was by then four and I had planned to go to Nashville. We rode over through the field among the cows and she showed me her potato patch and tobacco. Then down the road we went to meet her sons and grandsons. The boys were working with a Tennessee Walking horse as they had decided to get in the horse business. Back at her house she had a phone call and quickly told them she had company from Arkansas. I am sure she had tales to tell that night. She seemed to enjoy the tour and when I found out she was 81 I couldn't believe all we had done. Her front yard was so peaceful with big white rockers on the porch and large shade trees with big slabs of rock for a bench and steps.
And behind the house the typical rounded, mowed hill that rose toward the sky. She often used an expression or pronounced something that let me know she was real Tennessee mountain folk. It was indeed a pleasurable visit.
When I left there I was only about 1 mile from interstate 40 and I had probably seen the cemetery from the interstate when I drove into Newport the day before. Five miles west I again came to the Newport exit and passed it to reach Crossville, my home for the night.
Day 43 - Crossville, Tn to Pulaski, Tn
The second day of summer seemed just that. I noticed on a newspaper in some gas station somewhere that it was June 22 and it felt like it. Thermometers I passed read 
from 90 to 97 and I believed them all. I thought of the Virginia meanders or runs as I meandered across the foothills of the Appalachians slowly working my way back to Giles County, Tn. In Woodbury, a cute old town, I located the local home cookin' restaurant and enjoyed meatloaf and mashed potatoes and fried okra.
When I got to Bell Buckle I spotted Webb school and toured the old school house where my grandmother had gone to school. Old Sawney Webb had founded the school in 1874 and it was moved to its current location in 1886.
Day 44 - Pulaski, Tn to Hot Springs, AR
As usual I could not stay on 64 but wandered south onto a smaller road through fantastic scenery and another battlefield. A torential downpoor slowed my progress and shortened my vision of the breathtaking countryside.
Near Memphis I noticed the whirring sound of the fan in front of the van. I thought better stuck on than off and hoped it wasn't a problem, but it was typical of my final legs home. After awhile it did shut off and Ziggy spent the night in the home carport.
What an excursion it has been. Meanders, meandering, distant cousins, John Henry bricks, John the bricklayer's bricks, Taylor tombstones, English manors, damn big houses, distant cousins, dusty fields, record breaking temperatures outside Washington D.C., Hattie the pond treasure, painting, crab cakes, soft shelled crab, plantations, farms, roasted marshmallows, ferries, confederate reenactments, and lots of memories. Retirement is the life for me!
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