Sundowners

So the rain finally stops. Saturday dawns hot and humid. Don and I are early risers. The boy, not so much. We set out in the morning and find the Cuban Coffee Queen stand located in an alley off of Duval Street just a couple of blocks from our hotel. We order some cafe con leche and some breakfast sandwiches made fresh on Cuban bread.

The Cuban Coffee Queen is a guy with dreads.

It’s back to our room to roust the boy. We plan to tour the lighthouse today, log some pool time and finally get to see what all the fuss is about down at Mallory Square since we should get to see a sunset this evening.

Note sleeping posture totally across bed with head on nightstand.

We spend a lot of time walking around and just enjoying the day. Damian is not a fan of heights and needs a lot of coaxing to climb to the top of the lighthouse and walk around the little platform at the top.

Reluctant participant

His bravery is rewarded with some pretty cool views.

A small museum is also found on the grounds and there’s some interesting landscaping with trees and statuary.

Don & friend

 

Crazy trees

A 2:1 decision is made to abandon lunch plans in favor of consuming wanton fat and calories in a very delicious form:

Amazingly delicious!

It’s time for some sunbathing for me and swimming for Damian & Don. There is a bar poolside and this affords us some people watching opportunity as does the view from the roof looking down onto the street. Showers are followed by a little siesta and then it’s off to Mallory Square. Tonight we aren’t disappointed.

More crowded tonight.


The Money Shot

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The Literary Tour

The La Concha as seen from the top of the lighthouse.

We are staying in the historic district on Duval Street at the La Concha Hotel. This building is the tallest structure on Key West. Author Tennessee Williams rented out the entire top floor while he wrote A Streetcar Named Desire. The place ain’t half bad. We drop anchor and decide to head out and about. Duval Street is just a little over a mile in length and literally runs shore to shore. It and the local cross streets contain many beautiful Victorian style mansions with just a little Bahamian influence.

The Ernest Hemingway House

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ernest Hemingway resided in the stately mansion from 1931-39 and wrote To Have and Have Not while living here. The descendants of Hemingway’s famous 6 toed cats are the current residents. All of them were accounted for after the hurricane. This house sustained no damage.

Unfortunately, one well known house didn’t survive Irma.

What’s left of the Shel Silverstein house.

This is what remains of the Shel Silverstein house. The famous children’s author, cartoonist for Playboy magazine and writer of the songs: The Cover of the Rolling Stone & A Boy Named Sue used his residence here as a writing studio. Ironically, he wrote Where the Sidewalk Ends.

On Duval Street, the sidewalk ends at the famous bouy marking the southernmost point of the U.S. This fixed concrete structure that states: 90 miles to Cuba got trashed by Irma. You will note in our photo that the left side has been denuded of paint and lost so much concrete that it required an emergency patch.

90 miles to Cuba

We watched a storm move across the water while we were headed to our photo op. Just about when the shutter closed  we felt the first raindrops which rapidly progressed to a torrential downpour. We had no choice but to seek shelter in a local joint. A few Margaritas and oysters later our clothes were at least dry. Our new friend and waiter, Steven, kept us laughing while we lamented the fact that we had seen nothing but rain so far.

Steven

Despite the continued threat of rain we decide to venture down to the other end of Duval where Mallory Square’s unique plaza sits on the Gulf side of the island. Mallory is famous for it’s daily Sunset Celebration. Supposedly, hundreds of tourists arrive each evening to view the sunset and be entertained by street performers and local artisans hawking their wares. Tonight it’s an empty, soggy square. Only 2 buskers are present this evening and one of them is an ex-Navy guy so we strike up a conversation with him before his show. He tells us that many of the performers have not arrived back since Irma but each night a few more of the artisans show up.

 

There will be no sunset to see tonight. We console ourselves with a street mojito while walking back to our hotel. This end of Duval is party central. All the bars are open and loud music spills out into the streets along with the patrons. We decide to have dinner at a famous local establishment, Caroline’s. It affords us a great street watching vantage point, solid food choices and an adjacent local marketplace whose stalls Damian finds intriguing to wander through.

Watching the ships roll in at Mallory.

Maybe the sun will come out tomorrow?

I consider sacrificing one of the many local chickens that roam the island in the hopes that it will help improve the weather.

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Driving the Keys

High noon in Islamorada.

The day we are leaving Miami we are awakened to the news report of an active police chase. There was a carjacking not terribly far from where we were staying and it turns out the suspect was already wearing a house arrest type ankle bracelet. (? WTF?) He jumped into the Miami river not far from Marlin’s Park and eventually was shot and killed. The weather is dreary with the promise of rain showers for our drive down the Keys. It can only improve from here, right?

We did spend a nice day in the Frost Museum of Science located in downtown Miami. It was loaded with many interactive exhibits, houses an aquarium that covers 3 floors and has a full planetarium. An all inclusive ticket gets you into everything and since Damian had never been to a planetarium before it was well worth it. There are also some great views from the museum’s rooftop.

Port of Miami

 

exhibit on movement

The lower aquarium

 

When I booked this trip I envisioned palm trees swaying, a convertible, meandering down the Overseas Highway, blue skies, beaches and sunbathing. It has rained every day, cloud cover has predominated and all the beaches and state parks are closed due to the damage from Hurricane Irma

We stop in Key Largo and at a storefront engage a local in conversation. She tells us that Largo and Key West fared pretty well. They are both up and running although there continues to be lack of services like cable. We mentioned the debris we saw in the Miami area and she kind of chuckles and says, “There’s a lot of debris in the Lower Keys. They took a hit.” She’s the one who informs us that every beach and park in all of the Keys is closed from the damage. She assures us that Key West is in full swing with the bars, shops and restaurants fully operational. We escape a torrential downpour by ducking into a World Wide Sportsmen Shop in Islamorada and decide that we better buy some heavy duty ponchos. Things aren’t looking up yet.

Huge walls of debris line the Overland Hwy in the Lower Keys.

 

 

The rain lets up long enough to enable us to locate the Keys Fisheries Market and Marina were we stop for a delicious lunch of a local favorite, hogfish. We did not get stuck in the mess on the roads leading out of Miami thanks to my Wayze app, we missed the monsoon by visiting the sporting goods store and we had a wonderful lunch on the water. Things may be looking up.

 

 

A grilled hogfish sandwich. Simple pleasure.

We divert to the Turtle Hospital in Marathon where we book a tour for when we are returning to the Overland Highway heading back to Ft. Lauderdale.

 

The destruction in the Lower Keys makes anything we’ve seen so far seem inconsequential. The Red Cross still has a tent city up, Fema also has their station and the piles of debris construct a 12′ wall along part of the highway. It is shear devastation and very sad to see. We progress somberly toward Key West. Perhaps things aren’t looking up again. I guess we’ll see.

 

 

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The Aftermath

Debris lines residential areas

At breakfast this morning we realize that our hotel is full of workmen. AT&T/Direct TV guys in their florescent vests and carrying hard hats are sitting over coffee. I overhear their conversations. They are receiving a lot of anger from the people seeking restoration of services. One young man sums it up, “I know you’ve been waiting 2 weeks sir, but you’re not the only one!”

The obvious signs of what happened down here are the piles of flora debris and household goods that have been damaged by rain or floods. These sit in heaps like monuments all along the residential streets in the greater Miami areas.
By the way, it’s raining again. We are expecting flood warnings and 35 mph winds today and tomorrow. Tropical storm Nate is another threat that is expected to cause some impact over the weekend although predictions seem to be taking it up the gulf and again possibly reeking some havoc on the panhandle. It’s not over for Florida yet.

On the upside, we sailed through security at the airport. I 💕 early morning flights. Don’t get me wrong, it’s rough getting up at 4 a.m. but the aggravation saved is priceless. Plus you have a full day ahead once you arrive at your destination (if you’re on the same coast). Southwest Airlines provides a pretty good experience overall, despite their strange “pick your own seat when you get on the plane” philosophy. Luckily, we were not on a full flight and there was sufficient choice. Three-across seating ensured we were all able to sit together. We arrived 5 minutes early in Ft. Lauderdale and acquired our rental car then headed south to Miami. The last time I was in Miami I was 5 years old and we decided we’d spend 2 days there. High on Don’s list of activities for the Miami area was eating Cuban food. Specifically, a few dishes from his childhood. I found what seemed to be an authentic place near our hotel. I wasn’t wrong.

Outside of our restaurant which has a walk up Cuban coffee window.

When our waitress arrived at our table and spoke to us in Spanish we replied in English. She politely told us she did not speak English. She smiled and handed us our menus which were completely in Spanish. Don described what he was seeking to her and between his few Spanish words and my NY Puerto Rican Spanglish we successfully (we hoped) conveyed our orders. She came back with two tiny cups of the jet fuel that is known as Cuban coffee. Just what we needed after our 4 a.m. wake up. Shortly after plates arrived containing yellow rice, black beans, fried plantains and crispy chunks of pork covered in sauteed onions.

Damian played it safe with a cheeseburger and fries. A few minutes after we were digging into our lunch a waiter arrived with a plate that looked like mashed potatoes. We were confused but figured something got lost in translation. When our lovely waitress stopped by to check on us she too was confused by the potato addition. We shrugged, she shrugged and told us they were just home made mashed potatoes and to go ahead and enjoy them. The veritable feast was very reasonably priced and we paid our bill, said our thank yous and departed to check in to our hotel.

Kicking it in Little Havana.

We considered heading to Everglades National Park but the closest entrance point is still closed due to the flooding from Irma after the 6 ft. storm surge. Over lunch we gave Damian a quick history lesson on the revolution in Cuba and the mass immigration of Cuban exiles to south Florida. Our plan B becomes a tour of Little Havana to build on the lunch lesson.

For the baseball geeks

For the architecture geeks

Little Havana is often considered to be the cultural and political capital of the Cuban exile population in Miami. There’s live music in the streets, art displays and galleries, a monthly festival, art films, street food and lots of cigar shops, a star-studded walk of fame and old folks playing dominoes and chess in the park.

Croquetas de jamon
(street eats)

It sort of reminded me of The Bronx, if all the buildings were low, pastel-colored and had Spanish tile roofs. A few observations about the Miami area:

1. The traffic is awful and so are the drivers.

2. It’s the closest you can come to being in another country without actually leaving the country.

3. The food has been delicious.

4. Everyone seems to like baseball.

5. Most of the local high school teams can beat the Marlins.

Tomorrow promises more rain so my beach plans will need to change.

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Hurricane?! Ain’t Nobody Got Time for That!

I stared with the same look that the deer in my headlights display when I am driving home from work at night. Whirling it’s way through the Caribbean, intent on wreaking havoc with a course no one could predict, bearing down for a direct hit on the homestead we would be inhabiting in just a few weeks was Irma.

Italian-Americans prefer the spaghetti models.
(courtesy of some west coast news agency)

What better metaphor for our 40th wedding anniversary?
Back in June I decided that I wanted to engage in another epic American road trip to celebrate our ” Ruby” anniversary which was coming in October. (In case you were thinking of sending us a gift: the Ruby anniversary celebrates an inner flame that symbolizes a vibrant, living love. 😍) A relaxing journey to the southernmost point in the U.S. coupled with the well-known festive atmosphere of Key West made it a logical choice.

Table for 2 please.

Flights were booked, hotel reservations were made and a car was rented. Only now we didn’t know if there was even a road, let alone gas, water, food and lodging that was still in place post-Irma. Interestingly, we originally had attempted to book a houseboat to stay in but divine intervention ensued and we were unable to make the AirB&B reservation go through. 🙏

Not sure but I think this was the boat.

Contacts with my hotel, airline, the Key West Chamber of Commerce, sea captains, pirates, rum runners & the Gay Men’s Chorus of South Florida assured me that the roads were passable, gas was available, my hotel was standing and most importantly the dive bars were open!

Sounds like we are good to go!
Only one small problem remains.

As a middle-school student, Damian’s schedule has become a bit more complicated. He plays on the Marshall Middle School baseball team (Go 🐺!) as well as a recreational league football team (Go Wildhawks! There is no emoji for that.) He practices 4 days a week with 2 weekly games for baseball and practices twice a week with a weekend game for football. The logistics involved in getting him to and from these activities daily requires 2-3 people’s participation when both chauffeurs work. Fortunately, he is like a sponge when it comes to educational material. It is exactly one week before our flight leaves when we finally decide we will indeed proceed with this trip: what to do? What to do? I decide to channel my inner Auntie Mame.

“Auntie Mame says olives take up too much room in such a little glass.”

 

I consult with Mr. Russo. We buy Damian a plane ticket. Dear Mike (my accountant): Can I write this trip off as an educational expense?

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What I Did On My Summer Vacation

The school year started for real yesterday with Damian beginning a new chapter as a Middle School student. Don had to return a full week before and has been lamenting the end of Summer quite vociferously since then. I tend to reserve my end of Summer blues until after my birthday in September which is usually about a week after the official Labor Day holiday. We were quite fortunate in that our Summer holiday began before Memorial Day as our school system was lucky with snow days this past Winter so was able to dismiss relatively early.

We were able to fit in a short trip to Virginia Beach. Our extended family usually aims for 2 big get togethers each year. One Summer trip and one Winter trip. It was agreed last Christmas that we would sacrifice the Winter trip in favor of an Orlando area theme park extravaganza. This enabled everyone to have an opportunity to visit with Don’s parents and sister who are Florida residents. I knew that I would still need a little beach therapy so the first opportunity that I was off after Don’s birthday (because SOME of us still had to work this Summer) we put our toes in the water and asses in the sand (thanks Zac Brown Band for my Summer theme song). This jaunt coincided with the Summer Solstice so it was doubly enjoyable. See my previous post Midsummer for more on that theme.

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Don’s birthday present to himself this year was the ability to purchase a Lifetime Pass to the National Parks. To christen this ability we had a lovely side trip to the Yorktown Battlefield and Riverfront area. This pass has more than paid for itself as we now are frequent visitors to the hiking trails in Shenandoah National Park and even paid a visit to Great Falls Park after more than 30 years of living in Northern Virginia.

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If I could assign a theme to our Summer it would have to be Family Reunion. This started with our trip to my cousin’s annual Freedom Celebration (see previous post) and culminated in a visit with the Masters of the Universe (my in-laws) and another of our semi-annual excursions with Dawn & Darren.

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The amassing of a dozen Russos in any one place could be considered an invitation to trouble but aside from the volume associated with such events it is a raucously good time. Many memories were made and will be cherished for years.

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Family gatherings often promote feelings of nostalgia and we were able to quench that thirst also. We took Damian on a tour of the Bronx not often promoted in the media. Orchard Beach, Shore Road & City Island all were places we frequented in our youth that left an indelible imprint and love of the nautical in us. In Damian’s mind none of this could compete with the Bronx Zoo. It had been 40 years since we encroached upon the New York Zoological Park. When we arrived on its “Free Day” we were fortunate enough to encounter a guardian angel who was obviously totally familiar with the Zoo of our memories and was able to bridge us to the transition that is the Wildlife Conservation Society of today. Nancy was a zoo official who noticed us trying to make heads or tails out of the map we had been provided while trying to navigate our way to the Wild Asia area. She asked us if she could help us and then personally walked us to the monorail while imbuing us with all of her zoo knowledge in a way that only a lifelong Bronx resident could present to other members of the club.

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My brother-in-law, Darren was able to provide a reunion for my sister and I with a legacy for my father of which he was the catalyst. It is also a tradition for my sister and I to toast our mother on her birthday with a glass of Pinot Grigio (with ice). Proof that reunions transcend realms of being.


As we move forward in this year we are progressing toward a more permanent union. Our son Eric and his now fiance Natalie will be planning their wedding and in true Russo fashion will be setting the stage for more memories. Each season brings new joys that pack a powerful punch. I won’t say goodbye to Summer just yet.

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Independence Day

Cousin Bob welcoming all to the Freedom Celebration.

When did Independence Day become a days long series of events? Not that I mind any extended celebrations. This practice has given me more opportunities for fireworks viewing and party attending and made me not feel so bad about having to work on the actual fourth day of July. Many of our local venues have taken to having their big fireworks displays on the Saturday before the 4th. Utilizing the weekend as the nexus of all things July 4th enabled me to attend an annual event that I have missed for a few years. My cousins Bob & Donna Brown host a big bash which they entitle a “Freedom Celebration” down at their country property in Luray. (It’s pronounced: LOO-Ray for all you Yankees.) I have a contingency of cousins in Virginia that I see way too infrequently and I was happy for the re-connection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To start off our weekend on Friday evening our county seat of Warrenton held an event that had an array of activities and that were family focused on the grounds of the Warrenton Aquatics and Recreation Facility (The WARF, as it’s known to us locals). This included fee free swimming at the indoor pool. While Don and I were not excited to sit for 2 hours while Damian frolicked with other kids playing water basketball, it proved to be a prudent decision when the severe thunderstorm blew through sending the hordes to descend upon the WARF in droves.  The sudden onslaught caused panic among the staff so they closed the pool but not before we already sent Damian to the locker room. It looked as though the planned fireworks for that evening might be delayed so we took off in search of dinner. As we left the restaurant Don decided to swing by a spot that he thought may provide a viewing vantage without having to return to the throngs. Just as we pulled up, the first mortar was launched and Damian popped up through the moon roof to enjoy the show.

On the grounds of Warrenton’s celebration.

I learned today on Facebook (see, I’m not just wasting time on there) that the incorporation of fireworks into the Independence Day celebration was the idea of John Adams and that the first fireworks were set off on July 4th 1777 in Philadelphia and Boston.  Parades, shows, sports and games where also included in the original plans. In concert with the visions of our forefathers, Cousin Bob provided a hayride through the picturesque countryside of Luray, there was a pool for the kiddies, games of kickball, corn hole and can jam, archery and of course food and drink a plenty. Bob welcomed everyone with a wonderfully heart-felt speech and prayer that reminded us all just how blessed we are to be living here in the good old U. S. A.

 

Hayseeds on the hayride.

kickball

kiddie pool

We had the good fortune to be sitting with several groups of folks who were more recent immigrants and it was humbling to hear one man state that there is no other place in the world where you are assessed solely on your own merits and not those of your father, family, class, religion or caste and opportunity is endless.  We also heard a sobering discussion of how the drug epidemic has hit this region and several local businesses had to be closed because of the inability to find a thrifty, reliable work force in an area where it’s easier to be on government assistance.

New friends.

Then there was the joy of seeing my cousins’ reaction when I showed her old photo slides of our family from the 1950’s. It was fun to reminisce and catch up.

Costa Cousins

Lovely Luray

Bob’s peaches!

When it was time to leave Don suggested that we take the Skyline Drive home and stop along one of the high overlooks and watch the fireworks displays throughout the valley. It was an added treat that Saturn was visible near the moon.

On the trail.

Waiting for dark.

Sunset on the Skyline Drive

Fireworks across the Valley.

It seemed that we were not the only people to have that idea. Several groups were already camped out at the overlook when we arrived. Some kids on a motorcycle came up to us and politely inquired why everyone was pulling out chairs and were we expecting something to happen? We said that we couldn’t speak for the other folks but we were planning to watch for fireworks. They thought that it was a good idea and perched on the rock wall to our right. It was definitely a unique perspective to look down at fireworks displays dotting the Valley sky. I have been watching a documentary series entitled : New York from the American Experience series on PBS. One episode chronicled the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge and how when it opened it was the tallest structure of the day. People would walk upon its promenade and marvel that they could look down upon the ships in the harbor. I felt a kinship with those venerable New Yorkers that night.  I stood gazing knowing that all across our amazing country people from all walks of life would be sharing in the same American experience.

God Bless America!

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Midsummer

Midsummer’s Eve

The celebration of Midsummer has occurred since ancient times as a festival coinciding with the summer solstice. The allure of the longest day of the year called to me and I had to join in the revelry. It was a well planned bonus that I happened to be on the beach at the time. Dancing, leaping and the lighting of bonfires to chase away the evil spirits were common. The closest we could come was the entertainment provided by the town of Virginia Beach.

Fire juggling is a reasonable facsimile of a bonfire.

Nothing says long night like playing catch with a live Taser.

or stuffing yourself through a tennis racket.

The Romans celebrated the god Summanus the day before the summer solstice. He was the deity associated with nocturnal thunder and his celebration included round cakes made of flour, milk and honey. The only thunder we encountered were the motorcycles cruising on Atlantic Avenue and we substituted Ben & Jerry’s waffle cones for the cakes. All in all a good night enjoying the sunset.

After honoring the gods
Ben & Jerry

Heading down to honor Neptune.

Of course the Christians had to come along and ruin all the pagan fun, as usual. St. Eligius in the 7th century warned against the solstice celebrations. St. John’s Eve was the compromise, which celebrated the birth of John the Baptist and included the burning of bones and rubbish (a nod to the bonfires).

In the struggle that ensues between pagan and Christian rituals, it’s usually the celebrants who lose.

There was only win/win for this Midsummer and it’s celebrants. We enjoyed the perfect day on the beach and a wonderful night.

Perfect day.

Perfect night

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Scavenger Hunt

John S. Mosby House – the starting point

Rancho Russo is headquartered in the bucolic countryside of Fauquier County. Out here school has been dismissed for  summer and the previously incapacitated Russo family members have returned to their pre-operative states of health (for better or worse as that may be). This has afforded the former chauffeur, nurse, physical therapist, housekeeper, cook, bottle-washer & medical appointment scheduler the opportunity to resume her imaginary career as your most beloved travel enthusiast. The cancellation of a Spring Break vacation to assume the aforementioned duties required an increase in meditation, contemplation and reflection in order to keep my Chi freely flowing but now I am ready for adventure!

OK, maybe not this much adventure.

I did just take advantage of the amazing sale Southwest Airlines had to book flights for our 40th wedding anniversary celebration trip to take place this October. We will also shortly be returning to the Orlando area to partake in our Summer family reunion, hit the beach for a while and return to New York to impose on the unbridled hospitality of my sister and brother-in-law. An absence of travel related activities requires a short jaunt to get those travel juices flowing again. I take for granted just how much my everyday landscape is often a vacation destination for others. There are so many things available in my own backyard that I have failed to take full advantage of so we decided that ‘there’s no place like home’ to poke that stagnant wanderlust spirit.

 

I love imposing on these 2

Here I come!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Damian received a booklet from school that detailed a Historic Fauquier County Scavenger Hunt that was centered around the Civil War related activities of the famed ranger John S. Mosby. I will now provide you with a cautionary warning: this post contains historical images and information that some may find politically incorrect or offensive. I can’t change history, folks. Nor do I want to do so. Wise readers will interpret events through the prism of the times in which they occurred, who was writing the information and to what purpose it served them.

Main Street – Warrenton

We park our car at the Visitor’s Center in downtown Warrenton, Virginia and head off on foot through the historic district. Our mission is to find certain sights and answer questions related to our findings so that Damian can obtain a coveted t-shirt that reads: “Got Mosby?” on the front and “No – Mosby’s Got YOU!” on the back. (Sigh, . . whatever.) The first Confederate Officer to die in the Civil War was from Warrenton and Union troops often occupied Fauquier County. Significant battles occurred at Catlett Station, Thoroughfare Gap, Kelly’s Ford, Rappahannock Station, Upperville, Buckland and Auburn. The occupying Union forces allowed approximately 20% of the now freed slaves residing here to leave the county. The remaining Freedmen begin establishing their own churches, schools and villages. Rancho Russo is located on what used to be known as Little Africa on Rattlesnake Mountain. Where I live was originally a farming community founded by escaped and then freed slaves. The hub of this community was the Mount Paran Baptist Church which still exists and serves an active worship community of descendants. (A fascinating account of Little Africa can be found in the book: Blue Mountain Memories by Richard Long)

The 43rd Battalion Virginia Cavalry Company A became known as “Mosby’s Raiders”. Their use of guerilla warfare to disrupt communication and supply lines as well as their ability to continually elude pursuit and capture made them legends. Under the authority of General Robert E. Lee, this company was formed by John S. Mosby. We follow the trail out of the Visitor’s Center to arrive in front of the house where Mosby lived after the war. We are given the task to name the builder of the front gates at Brentmoor and quickly deduce that this scavenger hunt will not be a walk in the park. The worn medallion is about 4 inches off the floor on a piece of the gate. What we don’t yet know is that this hunt will take us over 6 hours to complete traversing 9 towns through 2 counties!

The Stewart Iron Works built the gate at Brentmoor

I’ll save you the history lesson and instead will delight you with the picturesque landscape and architecture that we encountered during this time. It was a cool day for June in Virginia topping off in the 70’s under crystal blue skies. Enjoy the scenery!

Fauquier resident Chief Justice John Marshall outside the courthose. We had to find what was in his right hand.

Mosby Monument – we had to finish a quote found on it.

“When was the old jail built?”

“What was the address of Mosby’s law office?”

The old Warren Green Hotel building.

Hotel guests included:
Lafayette, James Monroe, Andrew Jackson,Henry Clay, Teddy Roosevelt and Wallis Simpson.

The residential area of the Warrenton Historical District contains many stately properties including the residence of Capt. John Q. Marr. This former Mayor of Warrenton and Sherrif of Fauquier County attended the Virginia Military Institute and was the first Confederate Officer to die in the Civil War.

Marr House built in 1830

Another infamous Virginia Military Institute alum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is rumored that Col. Mosby was in a local barber shop during the War having a shave when Union soldiers entered in search of him. The sympathetic barber quickly covered his face in lather and they left empty handed. Mosby had many ‘close shaves’ during the War.
(Audible groan from reader.) The last stop of the tour in Warrenton was the local cemetery. A recent episode of vandalism brought national attention to Warrenton Cemetery when nearly 100 gravestones were knocked over or damaged. Restoration efforts are being spearheaded by the Fauquier Historical Society which is conducting fundraising efforts. We were sent to the Confederate Memorial located in the center of the cemetery to discover what sits atop the memorial then we were told to find Mosby’s gravesite.

View of town from atop the Warrenton Cemetery.

You can’t miss it!

We ambled down rural back roads in The Plains to find the Five Points Intersection which was a popular meeting place for Mosby’s Rangers to congregate before a raid.

Abandoned old stone house seen on the back roads.

Store and Spring at the village of Atoka (formerly Rector’s Crossroads). Mosby assembled the Rangers at The Rector House here.

The Hathaway House (still a private residence) was where Mosby would stay with his wife during the War. One night while they were there Union troops arrived to search for him. He crawled out a rear window onto a branch of the tree that you can still see behind the house. He remained lying flat against that branch for 8 hours while the troops confiscated his horse and gear. After they finally left, he crawled back in the window. This was a story I was very familiar with and knew the house was somewhere in Fauquier so I was extremely excited to actually find it’s location! Although it’s location is pretty remote I’m sure the current residents tire of idiots like us milling about in front of it trying to capture an image. At least the family dog seemed not to appreciate our love of history.

Hathaway House
The big tree in the back is where Mosby hid.

We also were taken through the town of The Plains proper. While we are quite familiar with the drinking and dining establishments located along the main street, I was unaware that The Plains was the site of the first Union Army camp in Fauquier. It is also the home of the Afro-American Historical Association of Fauquier County which contains a museum and research library containing artifacts and photos related to the county’s African-American history. We were asked to find out which slave ship a horrifying metal slave cage was from.

Slave cage from slave ship
“Veronica”.

A sign post in The Plains that’s well known to locals.

Lavender adjacent to the post office in The Plains.

Dr. Clark’s house.
He sat on his porch whittling while the Union troops passed. He put a notch in his whittling stick for each artillery piece then sent the stick to the Confederates.

We crossed Goose Creek as we traversed the countryside. It’s source is my hometown of Linden, Virginia and the many streams that feed into it are an important source of water for local wildlife and livestock. The Goose Creek Bridge was built when Thomas Jefferson was President and is one of only four arched-stone bridges remaining in Virginia. This bridge played a role during the Battle of Upperville when J.E.B. Stuart’s cavalry made a stand against Union cavalry. It is currently part of a recreational area that is maintained by the Loudoun Garden Club. We hiked across it and down the trail.

Goose Creek Bridge

Goose Creek

Goose Creek tributary

Through Upperville we coursed and there the setting up for the Upperville Colt & Horse Show was in full swing. This is the oldest horse show in America commencing in 1853. The Mosby Heritage Area encompasses much of the Virginia Hunt country. Heading from Warrenton to The Plains we passed Great Meadow. This Field Events Center hosts both the Virginia Gold Cup races and the International Gold Cup Races. These are steeplechase events that create a Kentucky Derby atmosphere here each Spring and Fall. Prior to the establishment of formal racecourses riders would race across the countryside going from church steeple to church steeple jumping over fences, streams and logs along the route. Hence, the term “steeplechase”. (We locals attend to get drunk outside, wager and laugh at the elite from Fairfax and Washington D.C. while they try to negotiate muddy fields in their Jimmy Cho’s.)

Tally-ho!

In a region known for breeding fine horses, Mosby’s men had the finest of the fine. We once met a gentleman who was in his 90’s and a life-long resident of Rectortown. He told us that when he was a boy he would drive horses that were locally bred from the farm fields down to the railroad station at Rectortown. The horses would be boarded onto freight cars and shipped north to Saratoga Springs in New York for the racetrack. All raiders had at least 2 horses and Mosby was said to have six. One of our neighbors, who was a lawyer known as “Hawk”, used to lead trail rides at Marriott Ranch with my son. His great, great grandfather was a local horse trader. Mosby’s men stole some of his horses to which he rode into Warrenton and told the Union forces which local house Mosby was staying in that night. That was supposedly the night Mosby crawled out the window to spend the night in a tree.
Ashby’s Gap was a through route over the Blue Ridge into the Shenandoah Valley and this took us through to the tiny village of Paris. There are some stunning views as you drive out this way. The Ashby Inn anchors Federal Street and is an upscale restaurant and Inn. It has been maintained meticulously in it’s 1800’s charm with many residences, buildings and structures original from that time. It’s a charming walk. We then hit Route 17, also known as Winchester Road down passed Sky Meadows State Park.

Sky Meadows State Park

Onward through Delaplane and into the Ashville Historic District we plodded. Ashville was founded as an African-American community in 1869 after 2 sisters, Harriet and Catherine Ash, willed about 150 acres of land to 2 of their former slaves. This was an amazing act of generosity at this time. Land ownership represented enormous opportunities for Freedmen. Jacob Douglas, one of those slaves, deeded land in 1874 to found the First Ashville Baptist Church. It was rebuilt in 1899 on the original site.

Cornerstone of the rebuilt
Ashville Baptist Church.

Back out on Ashville Road we pass Oak Hill, which was the house built by Chief Justice John Marshall and was used as his vacation home. Then we arrive at a familiar location for us, the Emmanuel Episcopal Church. Built in 1859 on land donated by Justice Marshall’s granddaughter, the church served as both a Union & Confederate hospital. It is our official polling place and we come here to vote each time an election is held. We are tasked to discover what color is inside of the bell in the bell tower.

It’s red.

Our final stop is the town of Marshall. Formerly known as Salem, this was the original hub of activity for us when we moved to Fauquier County. My kids went to elementary and middle school here as will Damian. Don and Darren work here. Our first Fauquier friends live here. We Trick or Treat here. We attended the Fireman’s Carnival here and the Christmas Parade. We learned how to be somewhat respectable country folks here. This town will be the next big thing happening in Fauquier County. Several new housing developments and a gentrified Main Street will forever change this place I have learned to love. Is that a good thing? Time will tell. The secret we have closely guarded about what a great place Fauquier is to live in is about to get out. This will pose new challenges and decisions we will have to make: how do we balance the environment we cherish with the need for more utilites and communication services? Our already stressed and often inadequate public school system will need more funding to be able to attract the teachers who are not coming here or leaving in droves for neighboring counties that offer more attractive options. We arrive at Old Schoolhouse #18. This school built in 1887 was the first public school built in Northern Fauquier. Orginally a white-only school until 1908, it then was used by African-American children being educated through the Salem Baptist Church. In 1964 it was closed as those students moved to a still segregated school near Rectortown.

Old Schoolhouse #18

Mosby disbanded his Rangers in a field along what is today, Salem Avenue. It is a somewhat commercial area with the Fire Station and its old Carnival grounds on one end and the burned out Marshall Ruritan Club anchoring it at the other end. Most of the rangers surrendered as individuals so as to obtain paroles that would enable them to be free. Mosby turned himself in to Federal authorities in 1865 but continued to be hassled until in 1866 he received special papers from General Grant exempting him from arrest and granting him safe conduct. He and Grant became good friends and Mosby became Grant’s campaign manager when he ran for President. Prior to his extensive involvement in national politics he resumed his law practice in Warrenton at the end of the War. If Mosby and Grant could put their differences aside and cultivate a lasting friendship there’s hope for us all.

Our scavenger hunt route.

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President’s Day

Afton Mountain overlook

I don’t consider President’s Day to be much of a holiday. Not since this abomination combination holiday was touted by merchants and advertisers in the 1980s, who coined the term “President’s Day” as a vehicle for creating sales and encouraging wanton spending and procurement of non-essential goods. (It’s the American way!) However, when the opportunity presented itself to combine a medically-necessary visit and a long weekend into a road trip – Happy President’s Day!

Charlottesville, Virginia was the hometown of 2 presidents and currently houses a business venture of the current president. Both Thomas Jefferson and James Monroe had estates here and James Madison was only 26 miles up the road. Jefferson’s home, Monticello, is a designated UNESCO World Heritage Site and you know how we love those! (See our posts on The Terra Cotta Warriors and Ayutthatya.) Jefferson was also founder of The University of Virginia which contains a major medical center and was the original destination for our journey.

Monticello

No, I am not being admitted for psychiatric observation as some of you may suspect. Don will be having some outpatient surgical procedures. (No, he’s not getting hair transplants! Stop guessing!)

I love his bald head!

A surprisingly efficient battery of testing, counseling and scheduling had us free before noon from a 10:15 a.m. appointment start time. Damian was hungry so we decided to grab some lunch before heading up to tour Monticello. We had booked accommodations for the night figuring that we’d make a holiday of it. I had put out feelers with my well-traveled friends for some foodie tips. We settled on a place called “Burger Bach” that came highly recommended. An interesting choice for someone who doesn’t eat red meat nor ground meat prepared by others. This place calls itself a “New Zealand Gastro Pub” (whatever that means) but despite it’s millennial/hipster appeal it exceeded expectations. You can choose from an array of “burger” styles which can be prepared from beef, lamb, chicken or vegetarian options. No bun? No problem! Don’s lamb was lettuce wrapped while Damian and I stuck with the traditional bun. If you have Celiac disease (the only real reason you need to avoid gluten) there’s even a gluten free bun option. Tasty and fresh salad greens accompany your burger. Fries are a separately ordered option that come in sharable portion sizes with a choice of delicious dipping sauces. We opted for garlic aioli (OK) and blueberry-chipotle (sounds awful, tastes amazing). Don even got to sample a flight of stouts before making his beer selection. Our server, Jasmine, easily and enthusiastically explained the concept to us first-timers and went above and beyond to ensure our satisfaction. (She brought us her own favorite dipping sauce to try and had the bartender or brewmeister or whatever they call him bring the flight and explain them all to Don.) Anyway, if you’re in the neighborhood do drop by and bring your growlers. (We didn’t and regretted it).

In case you are wondering, we receive no compensation for an endorsement. Although, we are interested in receiving compensation for endorsements. So in the interest of possibly, someday actually making any money off this stupid hobby of mine here’s my next free endorsement:

Duck Donuts.

If you, like us, have spent a significant portion of summer times in the Outer Banks of North Carolina you will be familiar with this place. The original store in the village of Duck is so crowded in the summer that you sometimes can’t even get in the place. The one in Charlottesville . . . relatively empty. Yup, Damian and I salivated over our freshly made and topped-your-way delights. He chose chocolate-dipped with bacon and rainbow sprinkles. (No accounting for the 11 year old palate.) Mine was a more sensible but nonetheless delicious lemon-dipped, coconut topped with raspberry drizzle. Unfortunately, we were too full from lunch to consume on sight so we got them to go.

Time to make the donuts! Wait, wrong chain.

Made fresh while you watch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The weekend forecast was for unseasonable, spectacular weather and I figured a gorgeous Saturday on President’s Day weekend would result in formidable crowds at Monticello so we opted to head over there after procuring our donuts. It was a good decision. The visitor’s center, museum and kid’s hands-on exhibits were empty. We were able to jump right on the next available tour. Our guide was excellent for the 45 minute tour of the house. Since our last visit many years ago the house is undergoing some renovations which made some rooms inaccessible. If you’ve never visited Monticello, it is my 2nd favorite of all the historical properties we have visited in our U.S. travels. My numero uno is The Biltmore Estate.

Jefferson was one interesting dude. He could read 6 languages, kept meticulous weather records daily for over 50 years, architecturally designed the house and landscape of Monticello, was an avid gardener, he was the first American paleontologist and orchestrated the Louisiana Purchase and most importantly he was the father of American viticulture.

Overlooking the vineyard
Jefferson was never successful cultivating European varieties.

Vegetable garden plots with many things already growing.

When we completed the house tour and finished wandering the grounds we chose to take the Mulberry Row path back down the mountain. The next day we would return to enjoy the Saunders-Monticello Trail. On Saturday the line in the Visitor’s Center was almost out the door and the parking lot much more crowded than when we arrived Friday. We were extremely pleased with our decision to do the tours and exhibits the day before. The promise of an even warmer day sealed our decision to spend the day outdoors. We found the entrance to the 2 mile trail path and began our gentle descent. Many others shared in our idea as we passed what seemed to be a lot of locals taking advantage of this trail.

Damian counting tree rings on the Saunders-Monticello Trail

We headed back to the car after about 3.5 miles on the trail. The temperature was registering in the low 70s and we decided to visit a nearby site that was a tribute to another enterprising President.

Make Winos Great Again!

An appropriate stop to celebrate National Drink Wine Day. Let me tell you, business was booming here. We returned home via Route 15 which led us through rolling countryside and farms. Prior to moving to Virginia, we would come down to visit my Grandparents and drive past these stately types of properties. The one thing that always stuck out in my mind was that all the properties had names, which I found hilarious and self-pretentious. I swore if we ever moved to Virginia and had some ‘property’ I was definitely going to name it. And that was the genesis of Rancho Russo.

The gardens at Rancho Russo in Spring

Honor your presidents. Drink wine. Happy President’s Day.

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