[National Park Service site HERE]
[Google aerial view HERE]
It is little more than ruins of a Civil War era fort now administered by the National Park Service, and it is very much off the beaten path, but I knew as soon as I turned into the entrance that I would like it.
There, right next to the dirt road, was a mother deer and her little one, and they wouldn't get out of the way! I wanted to hop from behind the wheel and walk up and say, "Look, I'm one of those nasty human beings that you frequently see from a distance, and you should have run off in sheer terror about three minutes ago." Finally, I just drove slowly by. The grass in that particular spot must have been delicious. Mom and baby stopped chewing, and just looked at me as I passed on the way to the little parking lot. Then they resumed.
It soon became apparent why the fort was left untouched, or, more specifically, why the cannons were left untouched. Some of the guns placed here were so big it was difficult to remove them once they were no longer needed. I'm sure, at the start of the war, with Confederate troops running back and forth out there in the woods and warships sailing around God knows where, there must have been a sense of urgency to move the things into place. After the war, when someone got the bright idea to relocate them, I'm guessing the response was a series of raised eyebrows, accompanied by a "you must be joking" look. These are Rodman 15 inch smoothbore cannons. Two of them remain at the site. To get an idea of their size, you can compare them to the couple from Kansas and their young daughter that I ran into during my wanderings.
(Don't forget, you can click on each of these images to view larger versions)
These monsters fired an iron ball that weighed 434 pounds. The guns themselves weighed 49,000 pounds. I wouldn't want to move them. Would you want to move them? So, here they sit, in the Maryland woods on the edge of the Potomac, surrounded by apparently scrumptious fields and lovely trees.
The arched, concrete structures that were powder magazines, and supporting facilities have seen better days, but they are still very much in evidence. I love walking around places like this. It never ceases to fascinate me. The trick is in trying to picture yourself there at the time. Imagine you are Fred the Union Soldier, and you are standing by the front gate in 1863 wondering why the deer won't go away. Your rations haven't been up to par lately, and you're thinking about munching some of that grass yourself...
Anyway, sites like this are great because there usually isn't much to them, and you can move along quickly without feeling like you've left something out. It gives you a real feeling of accomplishment. There was one curious thing. A road led from the parking lot to the ruins, and another road led, after a half mile or so, to a grill and a trash can. I'm not kidding. Here they are, hundreds of yards way from anything else in the park:
I was trying to figure out why this would be the case, when, because I have become so adept at imagining myself in another place and another time, I pictured park headquarters during the meeting that must have decided on this arrangement.
Ranger 1: Well, we think we have the Ft. Foote park ready to open to the public, sir. Most of the debris has been removed. We've cleared a parking lot and a road to the site. We've even made sure there is no residue remaining from the gas tests that were conducted there during World War I.
Head Ranger: Excellent. (looks at a map of the site, and wonders about the other road). What is this road for?
Ranger 1: Nothing, sir.
Head Ranger: Nothing?
Ranger 1: That's correct, sir.
Head Ranger: Well, why is it there?
Ranger 1: We didn't actually want the road to be there, sir. It's just the place where they parked the bulldozer for breaks and lunches while they were clearing the road that we did want.
Head Ranger: I see. (pauses to think) That's a problem.
Ranger 1: What do you mean, sir?
Head Ranger: People will be mad if we let them walk down a long road that leads to nowhere.
Ranger 1: I see your point, sir.
Ranger 2: (meekly, unsure of himself) We could... We could put a grill at the end of the road, sir.
Head Ranger: A grill? Why on Earth would we want to put a grill at the end of a long road that leads to nowhere?
Ranger 2: That way, when people get to the end of the road, they would think that the road was there to take them to the grill, sir.
Head Ranger: (thinks again, for a long moment, then exclaims) By God, that's genius!
Ranger 2: Thank you, sir. (bolder now) We could even put a trash can with the grill, sir. That way it would really appear as if we intended them to be there all along.
Head Ranger: (excited now) Genius, I tell you. Genius. (looks at Ranger 1) What do you think about that Ranger 1?
Ranger 1: Installing a grill and a trash can would be much cheaper than erasing a long road to nowhere, sir.
Head Ranger: (pounds the conference table decisively with a clenched fist) Make it so.
I inspected the grill, and it looked as if it had actually been used at some point, although probably not since the Carter administration. But Ft. Foote was a great way to start the day, and a perfect primer for what was to follow...
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