Thursday, July 30, 2009
You Name It (Part 2)
It's not too late to vote for a name for me car. "The Raft" has taken the lead despite strong early sentiment for "E."
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Rockets' Red Glare
On Sunday I decided I should drive somewhere interesting, and then park and walk around. After Saturday's long bike ride, another day in the saddle didn't seem like a great idea, but I wanted exercise of some sort, and, having gone five weeks without one, it's still kind of a novelty to me to actually have a car. So I thought I would drive to Annapolis, and then wander around for a few hours.
As I sped up I-95 near Baltimore, I saw a road sign pointing the way to a destination I hadn't even considered, but which now seemed like a fantastic idea: Ft. McHenry.
In case you don't know, Ft. McHenry was the scene of the famous British bombardment during the War of 1812 that inspired Francis Scott key to write the poem that we now know as the Star Spangled Banner.
The fort's commander, Major George Armistead had specifically requested a flag "so large that the British would have no difficulty seeing it from a distance." It was his way of thumbing his nose at the enemy. The original flag (currently on display at the Smithsonian) was 30 feet by 42 feet - so large that a smaller "storm" flag had also been made to fly when the pull of high winds would have snapped a pole flying the larger flag.
Two interesting side notes here:
First, storm clouds were brewing as I poked around the fort, and the rising winds caused the park rangers to enlist visitors to help pull down the gigantic replica flag...
...and raise the much smaller "storm" flag in its place.
Secondly, George Armistead's nephew, Lew Armistead, would die nearly forty-nine years later when the brigade he commanded pierced the center of the Union line and advanced to the "high water mark of the Confederacy" during Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg.
In September of 1814, the British had just captured and burned Washington, DC, and were moving on Baltimore. Francis Scott Key and another man had been taken aboard the British flagship HMS Tonnant under a flag of truce. They hoped to negotiate the release of Dr. William Beanes, an elderly Maryland physician who had been detained by the invaders because he had allegedly arranged the arrest of wounded British soldiers who had fallen under his care. So it was that Key watched the bombardment of Ft. McHenry from a British warship.
The British chose to shell the fort with heavy mortars and Congreve rockets, allowing them to stay beyond the effective range of McHenry's guns but also limiting the accuracy of their own weapons. Despite launching nearly 2,000 projectiles at the fort over the course of a rainy twenty-five hours, the British could cause little real damage, and finally sailed away.
The sight of the flag flying over the fort as daylight approached inspired Key to scribble his thoughts on the back of a letter he carried in his pocket. The lines that became our national anthem are familiar to all, but the original poem actually had three additional verses (click HERE for the full text).
You can tell, even from the satellite view on Google Maps, that the fort is marvelously maintained by the National Park Service. It is a popular attraction for visitors and a favorite recreation spot for Baltimore residents.
View Larger Map
The fort saw no further action after the British bombardment, but served as a prison during the Civil War, and was the site of a large hospital during World War I (dozens of buildings were constructed on the grounds without damaging the original structure), and a Coast Guard training station during World War II.
It's exactly the kind of place I like to visit when I can combine a drive, a walk, and a bit of our nation's history.
As I sped up I-95 near Baltimore, I saw a road sign pointing the way to a destination I hadn't even considered, but which now seemed like a fantastic idea: Ft. McHenry.
In case you don't know, Ft. McHenry was the scene of the famous British bombardment during the War of 1812 that inspired Francis Scott key to write the poem that we now know as the Star Spangled Banner.
The fort's commander, Major George Armistead had specifically requested a flag "so large that the British would have no difficulty seeing it from a distance." It was his way of thumbing his nose at the enemy. The original flag (currently on display at the Smithsonian) was 30 feet by 42 feet - so large that a smaller "storm" flag had also been made to fly when the pull of high winds would have snapped a pole flying the larger flag.
Two interesting side notes here:
First, storm clouds were brewing as I poked around the fort, and the rising winds caused the park rangers to enlist visitors to help pull down the gigantic replica flag...
...and raise the much smaller "storm" flag in its place.
Secondly, George Armistead's nephew, Lew Armistead, would die nearly forty-nine years later when the brigade he commanded pierced the center of the Union line and advanced to the "high water mark of the Confederacy" during Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg.
In September of 1814, the British had just captured and burned Washington, DC, and were moving on Baltimore. Francis Scott Key and another man had been taken aboard the British flagship HMS Tonnant under a flag of truce. They hoped to negotiate the release of Dr. William Beanes, an elderly Maryland physician who had been detained by the invaders because he had allegedly arranged the arrest of wounded British soldiers who had fallen under his care. So it was that Key watched the bombardment of Ft. McHenry from a British warship.
The British chose to shell the fort with heavy mortars and Congreve rockets, allowing them to stay beyond the effective range of McHenry's guns but also limiting the accuracy of their own weapons. Despite launching nearly 2,000 projectiles at the fort over the course of a rainy twenty-five hours, the British could cause little real damage, and finally sailed away.
The sight of the flag flying over the fort as daylight approached inspired Key to scribble his thoughts on the back of a letter he carried in his pocket. The lines that became our national anthem are familiar to all, but the original poem actually had three additional verses (click HERE for the full text).
You can tell, even from the satellite view on Google Maps, that the fort is marvelously maintained by the National Park Service. It is a popular attraction for visitors and a favorite recreation spot for Baltimore residents.
View Larger Map
The fort saw no further action after the British bombardment, but served as a prison during the Civil War, and was the site of a large hospital during World War I (dozens of buildings were constructed on the grounds without damaging the original structure), and a Coast Guard training station during World War II.
It's exactly the kind of place I like to visit when I can combine a drive, a walk, and a bit of our nation's history.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Wrong Way to Rock Creek
Yesterday, I went for the longest bike ride I’ve taken in quite some time. I’m trying to work my way back into good biking shape. At one point I was doing 100 miles a week regularly, and I’d like to get into that habit again. It’s amazing how much better you feel when you drop a few pounds and make an effort to sweat a bit on a regular basis.
I decided to ride a brand new trail that passes just a half mile north of my hovel. It’s called the Matthew Henson Trail. The pavement and the planks on the boardwalks and bridges are in great condition. My intention was to follow that to its end, and, from there, pick up the trail that parallels Rock Creek all the way to the Potomac in DC. That would be a 15 or 16 mile ride which, on a mountain bike, is a pretty respectable distance.
When I crossed Veirs Mill Road there was a detour. Somehow, I ended up near the Twinbrook Metro station in Rockville; very much out of the way. I knew the bus depot at the Metro station would have a good map, and, while I was able to get re-oriented, I realized I had ridden a few miles off my intended route. I don’t know where I got lost but I had certainly discovered the wrong way to Rock Creek.
Even when I finally found the Rock Creek trail, I managed to tilt off to side trails that twice deteriorated into narrow dirt paths. I was glad my first attempt at this trail was on my mountain bike, and not my road bike with its delicate tires.
[As I write this, I Googled “Rock Creek bike trail” and found a website called BikeWashington.org that has a map (HERE) of the portion of the trail that gave me trouble. The very first sentence on that page is, “This section is notorious for getting people lost.” If, indeed, I am an idiot, apparently I’m not the only one!]
Despite my navigational difficulties, I must say that Rock Creek Park is fantastic. (There is an excellent National Park Service map HERE). It is yet another park whose origins lay in the string of fortifications that surrounded Washington DC during the Civil War. While riding the length of the park, from top to bottom, I passed many playgrounds, soccer fields, tennis courts, and picnic areas – all of which were being put to good use. I continue to be amazed at how many people take advantage of the plentiful parks and public recreation facilities in the city. Over and over I passed family barbecues, kids flying kites and playing Frisbee, parents relaxing and reading in camp chairs, and young couples lounging on the grass or along the banks of the creek.
When I could, I enjoyed the scenery, but the ride wasn’t easy. The terrain was undulating, with each restful downhill offset by a short, steep climb. The path followed the course of the creek, so very little of it was straight. Occasionally, I would burst from under the covering trees into the clear – which was good because it gave me a chance to get my bearings, but not good because it exposed me to a 20 mph headwind that happened to be blowing up the Rock Creek valley from the Potomac. I don’t know how you react when faced with a 20 mph headwind while riding your bike. My usual reaction is to yell things that would offend most people.
By the time I reached the bottom (southern end) of the park, I had been in the saddle for 20 miles. I had two half-liter water bottles with me, and stopped at drinking fountains along the way to fill them both several times. Salt caked my cheeks from sweat that had poured from my forehead and dried. I felt great!
Suddenly, the trail joined the road, and the road curved to the left, and I was in front of the Kennedy Center riding along the Potomac River. I stopped to snap two quick photos on this hazy day.
To my right, the river and the Memorial Bridge across to Arlington...
To my left, people using public volleyball nets in the shadow of the Washington Monument (just barely visible in the distance behind the net on the left)...
From there I made a few laps around the National Mall, then went up 7th Street to G Street, where I dropped down the elevator that put me and my bike into the Gallery Place-Chinatown Metro station for the train ride home.
I learned that padded shorts are necessary, even on a mountain bike, if I'm going to ride long distances! (Yesterday turned out to be about 25 miles in the end). I learned I am finally fit enough to dust the cobwebs off my road bike and really put some miles behind me. And I hope I learned the right way to get to the Rock Creek trail next time.
I decided to ride a brand new trail that passes just a half mile north of my hovel. It’s called the Matthew Henson Trail. The pavement and the planks on the boardwalks and bridges are in great condition. My intention was to follow that to its end, and, from there, pick up the trail that parallels Rock Creek all the way to the Potomac in DC. That would be a 15 or 16 mile ride which, on a mountain bike, is a pretty respectable distance.
When I crossed Veirs Mill Road there was a detour. Somehow, I ended up near the Twinbrook Metro station in Rockville; very much out of the way. I knew the bus depot at the Metro station would have a good map, and, while I was able to get re-oriented, I realized I had ridden a few miles off my intended route. I don’t know where I got lost but I had certainly discovered the wrong way to Rock Creek.
Even when I finally found the Rock Creek trail, I managed to tilt off to side trails that twice deteriorated into narrow dirt paths. I was glad my first attempt at this trail was on my mountain bike, and not my road bike with its delicate tires.
[As I write this, I Googled “Rock Creek bike trail” and found a website called BikeWashington.org that has a map (HERE) of the portion of the trail that gave me trouble. The very first sentence on that page is, “This section is notorious for getting people lost.” If, indeed, I am an idiot, apparently I’m not the only one!]
Despite my navigational difficulties, I must say that Rock Creek Park is fantastic. (There is an excellent National Park Service map HERE). It is yet another park whose origins lay in the string of fortifications that surrounded Washington DC during the Civil War. While riding the length of the park, from top to bottom, I passed many playgrounds, soccer fields, tennis courts, and picnic areas – all of which were being put to good use. I continue to be amazed at how many people take advantage of the plentiful parks and public recreation facilities in the city. Over and over I passed family barbecues, kids flying kites and playing Frisbee, parents relaxing and reading in camp chairs, and young couples lounging on the grass or along the banks of the creek.
When I could, I enjoyed the scenery, but the ride wasn’t easy. The terrain was undulating, with each restful downhill offset by a short, steep climb. The path followed the course of the creek, so very little of it was straight. Occasionally, I would burst from under the covering trees into the clear – which was good because it gave me a chance to get my bearings, but not good because it exposed me to a 20 mph headwind that happened to be blowing up the Rock Creek valley from the Potomac. I don’t know how you react when faced with a 20 mph headwind while riding your bike. My usual reaction is to yell things that would offend most people.
By the time I reached the bottom (southern end) of the park, I had been in the saddle for 20 miles. I had two half-liter water bottles with me, and stopped at drinking fountains along the way to fill them both several times. Salt caked my cheeks from sweat that had poured from my forehead and dried. I felt great!
Suddenly, the trail joined the road, and the road curved to the left, and I was in front of the Kennedy Center riding along the Potomac River. I stopped to snap two quick photos on this hazy day.
To my right, the river and the Memorial Bridge across to Arlington...
To my left, people using public volleyball nets in the shadow of the Washington Monument (just barely visible in the distance behind the net on the left)...
From there I made a few laps around the National Mall, then went up 7th Street to G Street, where I dropped down the elevator that put me and my bike into the Gallery Place-Chinatown Metro station for the train ride home.
I learned that padded shorts are necessary, even on a mountain bike, if I'm going to ride long distances! (Yesterday turned out to be about 25 miles in the end). I learned I am finally fit enough to dust the cobwebs off my road bike and really put some miles behind me. And I hope I learned the right way to get to the Rock Creek trail next time.
Friday, July 24, 2009
You Name It
I think my car needs a name. I don't know why. It's been ages since I had a car with a name. If you've known me for a long time, you may remember the car I used to call "The Land Yacht." It was a '72 Chrysler Newport that I bought for $300, and it was so big I'm pretty sure you could have landed a helicopter on the roof.
I decided to take a poll of my faithful readers to see what you think. Jennifer suggested the name "McKinley" - after the mountain that fascinates me (and we already have a "Denali" in the family - Kami's dog).
I threw in a couple of ideas of my own. "The Green Monster" is obviously a reference to the left field wall at Fenway Park, and, it seems appropriate because the station wagon is pretty big and, well... green. "The Raft" is a bit of an inside joke that most of you will understand, but also refers to the fact that the car represents my method of "drifting" back to Florida if or when the need arises. "E" is kind of a play on words that reflects the ever-changing nature of things. E-volv...o. Comprende? Verstehen Sie? I know. It's kind of silly, but, then again, I'm kind of silly.
Take a minute to vote on the Official Poll just to the right of this post. Or write a comment or send me an e-mail with your name suggestion, and I'll add it to the poll.
I should forewarn you that the decision will ultimately be made by the Executive Naming Committee which consists of... ME! All decisions are final. I'll have to schedule a meeting with myself before the naming is official. At that point, I will issue a statement to the media, and distribute invitations to the christening ceremony.
I decided to take a poll of my faithful readers to see what you think. Jennifer suggested the name "McKinley" - after the mountain that fascinates me (and we already have a "Denali" in the family - Kami's dog).
I threw in a couple of ideas of my own. "The Green Monster" is obviously a reference to the left field wall at Fenway Park, and, it seems appropriate because the station wagon is pretty big and, well... green. "The Raft" is a bit of an inside joke that most of you will understand, but also refers to the fact that the car represents my method of "drifting" back to Florida if or when the need arises. "E" is kind of a play on words that reflects the ever-changing nature of things. E-volv...o. Comprende? Verstehen Sie? I know. It's kind of silly, but, then again, I'm kind of silly.
Take a minute to vote on the Official Poll just to the right of this post. Or write a comment or send me an e-mail with your name suggestion, and I'll add it to the poll.
I should forewarn you that the decision will ultimately be made by the Executive Naming Committee which consists of... ME! All decisions are final. I'll have to schedule a meeting with myself before the naming is official. At that point, I will issue a statement to the media, and distribute invitations to the christening ceremony.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
More Fragments...
SERIOUSLY?
I don't know who Jon and Kate are. I don't care. What bothers me is that so many people DO seem to care. I can't get away from the story. It pervades even mainstream media outlets that I once thought were credible. If your life isn't at least as interesting as theirs, I want to ask you two questions: 1) Why not? 2) What are you doing about it?
I NEVER KNEW THIS
When I visited Antietam National Battlefield last weekend, I learned something that I thought was fascinating. Beginning in 1890, as veterans of the greatest battles of the Civil War began to look for proper ways to commemorate the struggles in which they participated, they faced the usual issues involved in raising funds and procuring the land necessary for "military parks." When things looked bleak, they found an unexpected ally. A report by the Military Affairs Committee of the House of Representatives noted the following:
They felt these sites had value as the subject of military study, and so it was that the five original National Battlefields - Antietam, Chickamauga, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Vicksburg - were created. They were administered by the War Department and treated as open-air classrooms for officers. To enable their "pupils" to get a better view of the surrounding terrain, in 1896, the War Department built this tower adjacent to the famous "Bloody Lane" at Antietam...
[Photo by Thad Zajdowicz at JPGMag.com]
According to a sign near the tower, these parks were "turned over to the National Park Service in 1933 as the government tried to consolidate public lands." I always wondered why those major battlefields were so well-preserved. Now I know. Efforts to protect them began long before anybody could build convenience stores there.
Incidentally, the view above would have looked like this after the battle...
[Photo Courtesy of the National Park Service]
If you've never been to any of these battlefields (I have been to all except Shiloh), I urge you to go. They provide some of the most spectacular settings for the study of Civil War history and the remembrance of those who fought.
A DAY IN THE LIFE
I wonder if I have given the impression that I spend my time exploring, eating mussels and drinking wine. I suppose I spent more than enough time doing that initially, but the last several weeks have been difficult, to say the least.
In June, a runaway tow truck destroyed my car, cable and internet service at my hovel went awry for a week, my cell phone died and, thanks to a glitch in my provider's website, its replacement took 10 days to arrive. All of this was followed by the Metro crash on June 22 - which made getting anywhere difficult - and then reports of multiple episodes of fraudulent charges on two different credit cards of mine, the net value of which was around $1400. It could have been worse.
Add to that the fact that the resumes and cover letters I send out often seem to me as if they are just disappearing into outer space. Although I get occasional gems such as this - an e-mail I just received as I am typing:
I just checked my records. I applied for that job on June 4th. C'est la vie.
It is sometimes a struggle to make each day a productive one, but I do my best. I start with Kashi "Go Lean" oatmeal (which I highly recommend), fruit and orange juice. Sometimes I have a whole wheat roll with it. I try not to eat too early so I won't be starved before dinner time. I check and answer e-mails, pay attention to the weather - especially if I'm going into DC (I also look for Metro alerts if I am riding the Red Line), and spend a bit of time keeping up with the news. In late morning, I usually make my way - lugging my laptop - to a Starbucks. I grab a big cup of coffee, and try to act as though I were in my office - a place to get things done. I scour a few different websites for new job postings and compose cover letters.
Sometimes I make phone calls concerning the little bit of business I am still doing in Gainesville or for Push Button Productions. Sometimes I call family members or friends just to check in. Either way, getting to a Starbucks usually involves a walk (to the Metro to go downtown, or to the nearest Starbucks a mile and a half up the road) or a bike ride. Besides coffee, for the past couple of weeks, I have had only orange juice, sparkling water and sugar free lemonade to drink. Dinner, lately, is usually a Lean Cuisine preservative-free meal.
I am hoping that efforts to keep my body healthy will keep my spirits up as well. As of this morning, I am seventeen pounds lighter than when I left Gainesville in early May, and I feel better and better each weekend when I go out for a serious bike ride.
It would certainly put me at ease if I were able to type here a nice entry about accepting a great job in DC. It may still happen. But, while I am frequently discouraged by the search, I remind myself that I will be better off, regardless of what happens. As I recently wrote to Kami in an e-mail:
I don't know who Jon and Kate are. I don't care. What bothers me is that so many people DO seem to care. I can't get away from the story. It pervades even mainstream media outlets that I once thought were credible. If your life isn't at least as interesting as theirs, I want to ask you two questions: 1) Why not? 2) What are you doing about it?
I NEVER KNEW THIS
When I visited Antietam National Battlefield last weekend, I learned something that I thought was fascinating. Beginning in 1890, as veterans of the greatest battles of the Civil War began to look for proper ways to commemorate the struggles in which they participated, they faced the usual issues involved in raising funds and procuring the land necessary for "military parks." When things looked bleak, they found an unexpected ally. A report by the Military Affairs Committee of the House of Representatives noted the following:
"The preservation for national study of the lines of decisive battles, especially when the tactical movements were unusual both in numbers and military ability, and when the fields embraced great natural difficulties, may properly be regarded as a matter of national importance."
They felt these sites had value as the subject of military study, and so it was that the five original National Battlefields - Antietam, Chickamauga, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Vicksburg - were created. They were administered by the War Department and treated as open-air classrooms for officers. To enable their "pupils" to get a better view of the surrounding terrain, in 1896, the War Department built this tower adjacent to the famous "Bloody Lane" at Antietam...
[Photo by Thad Zajdowicz at JPGMag.com]According to a sign near the tower, these parks were "turned over to the National Park Service in 1933 as the government tried to consolidate public lands." I always wondered why those major battlefields were so well-preserved. Now I know. Efforts to protect them began long before anybody could build convenience stores there.
Incidentally, the view above would have looked like this after the battle...
[Photo Courtesy of the National Park Service]
If you've never been to any of these battlefields (I have been to all except Shiloh), I urge you to go. They provide some of the most spectacular settings for the study of Civil War history and the remembrance of those who fought.
A DAY IN THE LIFE
I wonder if I have given the impression that I spend my time exploring, eating mussels and drinking wine. I suppose I spent more than enough time doing that initially, but the last several weeks have been difficult, to say the least.
In June, a runaway tow truck destroyed my car, cable and internet service at my hovel went awry for a week, my cell phone died and, thanks to a glitch in my provider's website, its replacement took 10 days to arrive. All of this was followed by the Metro crash on June 22 - which made getting anywhere difficult - and then reports of multiple episodes of fraudulent charges on two different credit cards of mine, the net value of which was around $1400. It could have been worse.
Add to that the fact that the resumes and cover letters I send out often seem to me as if they are just disappearing into outer space. Although I get occasional gems such as this - an e-mail I just received as I am typing:
Thank you for your interest in Job ID: xxx,
Upon thorough review of your qualifications and experience, we will not be considering you further for this position.
Please continue to view available openings by visiting our website– www.xxxxx.jobs. If you find a position of interest for which you believe you are qualified, we encourage you to sign in as a returning applicant and complete a new application.
Again, thank you for your interest and the time you took to participate in the application process. We wish you success in your career exploration.
I just checked my records. I applied for that job on June 4th. C'est la vie.
It is sometimes a struggle to make each day a productive one, but I do my best. I start with Kashi "Go Lean" oatmeal (which I highly recommend), fruit and orange juice. Sometimes I have a whole wheat roll with it. I try not to eat too early so I won't be starved before dinner time. I check and answer e-mails, pay attention to the weather - especially if I'm going into DC (I also look for Metro alerts if I am riding the Red Line), and spend a bit of time keeping up with the news. In late morning, I usually make my way - lugging my laptop - to a Starbucks. I grab a big cup of coffee, and try to act as though I were in my office - a place to get things done. I scour a few different websites for new job postings and compose cover letters.
Sometimes I make phone calls concerning the little bit of business I am still doing in Gainesville or for Push Button Productions. Sometimes I call family members or friends just to check in. Either way, getting to a Starbucks usually involves a walk (to the Metro to go downtown, or to the nearest Starbucks a mile and a half up the road) or a bike ride. Besides coffee, for the past couple of weeks, I have had only orange juice, sparkling water and sugar free lemonade to drink. Dinner, lately, is usually a Lean Cuisine preservative-free meal.
I am hoping that efforts to keep my body healthy will keep my spirits up as well. As of this morning, I am seventeen pounds lighter than when I left Gainesville in early May, and I feel better and better each weekend when I go out for a serious bike ride.
It would certainly put me at ease if I were able to type here a nice entry about accepting a great job in DC. It may still happen. But, while I am frequently discouraged by the search, I remind myself that I will be better off, regardless of what happens. As I recently wrote to Kami in an e-mail:
I don't know what will become of my little venture into the nation's capitol. I'm glad I tried though. Whatever happens, I know I will be better off because of it. I've had lots of time alone to think. I see myself then - not so long ago - and what I had become. That's not me. Not any more. It's been interesting to see who has made efforts to stay in touch with me and who hasn't. In both cases, it hasn't always been the people I expected it to be. It makes me wish I had been better at telling some how much I appreciated them. It's never too late to start, right?The New Clothing Enterprise continues...
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
New Wheels (Part 3)...
For those who have been asking for more pictures of the new wheels, here are a few that were in the original ad that made me go look at the thing.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Freedom...
It's amazing how good it feels to have a car, even in an area where you'd frequently rather not drive it. I have become so accustomed to having one for so many years that I didn't realize how stranded I would feel without it. Here's an interesting thing to think about; you know what is the most useful thing to have when you're looking for a car? A car. How else do you get around to shop for one?
I decided a trip to the Antietam National Battlefield was in order. I hadn't been there since 1991. Antietam was the bloodiest single day of the Civil War. By the end of September 17, 1862, somewhere around 23,000 men had been killed or wounded on both sides. Tactically, it was a stalemate, but the Confederate forces eventually withdrew to the other side of the Potomac to lick their wounds. Strategically, the result was a Union victory since Lee had been forced to give up a planned invasion of northern territory. This was enough to give Lincoln confidence to issue the Emancipation Proclamation.
Since I was celebrating my new-found freedom, I tossed my bike into the back of the new Volvo and hit the road.
It is ironic that the scene of some of the most vicious fighting of the Civil War occurred in areas of distinct natural beauty. Sharpsburg, Maryland is a small farm community with rugged, rolling hills. Antietam Creek passes near the edge of the town before it empties into the Potomac about three miles south.
There was no threat of rain, but the day was hazy. The map provided by the National Park Service (Link HERE) shows a nice driving tour. I did it on bike - about eight miles. A bike is a great way to do a Civil War battlefield...
The National Park Service has a slide show of the famous Alexander Gardner photographs taken shortly after the battle (Link HERE). The photograph of Confederate dead along the Hagerstown Pike is probably one of the most famous Civil War images.
I didn't take too many pictures, but I did stop to get a shot of my trusty bike and backpack (I have used it literally every day) framed by cannons. It was just a silly idea - my way of paying tribute to the two items that have served me so well on this journey...
When I went to gather my backpack and mount up, I noticed something...
Look closely...
It's a bird's nest in the barrel of the cannon, complete with eggs. What was once the scene of unspeakable violence now made for a peaceful afternoon. What was once an instrument of death had become a vessel of life.
It seemed like the perfect way to end the day.
I decided a trip to the Antietam National Battlefield was in order. I hadn't been there since 1991. Antietam was the bloodiest single day of the Civil War. By the end of September 17, 1862, somewhere around 23,000 men had been killed or wounded on both sides. Tactically, it was a stalemate, but the Confederate forces eventually withdrew to the other side of the Potomac to lick their wounds. Strategically, the result was a Union victory since Lee had been forced to give up a planned invasion of northern territory. This was enough to give Lincoln confidence to issue the Emancipation Proclamation.
Since I was celebrating my new-found freedom, I tossed my bike into the back of the new Volvo and hit the road.
It is ironic that the scene of some of the most vicious fighting of the Civil War occurred in areas of distinct natural beauty. Sharpsburg, Maryland is a small farm community with rugged, rolling hills. Antietam Creek passes near the edge of the town before it empties into the Potomac about three miles south.
There was no threat of rain, but the day was hazy. The map provided by the National Park Service (Link HERE) shows a nice driving tour. I did it on bike - about eight miles. A bike is a great way to do a Civil War battlefield...
The National Park Service has a slide show of the famous Alexander Gardner photographs taken shortly after the battle (Link HERE). The photograph of Confederate dead along the Hagerstown Pike is probably one of the most famous Civil War images.
I didn't take too many pictures, but I did stop to get a shot of my trusty bike and backpack (I have used it literally every day) framed by cannons. It was just a silly idea - my way of paying tribute to the two items that have served me so well on this journey...
When I went to gather my backpack and mount up, I noticed something...
Look closely...
It's a bird's nest in the barrel of the cannon, complete with eggs. What was once the scene of unspeakable violence now made for a peaceful afternoon. What was once an instrument of death had become a vessel of life.
It seemed like the perfect way to end the day.
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