#3 Guns and Grapes

Northward

After our wonderful family visit, we were back on the highway pushing northward to Virginia and Bull Run. Bull Run is such an historic place and we thought it would be fascinating to learn more about the Civil War. We didn’t have time to add Gettysburg to our trip so this was an compromise.

By sheer luck, we had skirted locations where Lucca would be tormented by her anxiety over Independence Day fireworks. Fireworks, thunder, gun shots and similar booms and pops send her cowering into the bathroom. We thought afternoon thundershowers were the worst for her… until now.

Cowering in the Corner

We arrived at Bull Run Regional Park on Friday July 7^th.  The grounds around the campground were beautifully manicured. Acres of lush grassy meadows bordered the incoming roadway and abutted the rich forests of the park. We reached the campground and noticed 95% of the sites were pull throughs adjacent to the road. The RV’s were positioned about 3 feet from the tarmac. Ooh, that’s close.

As we set up camp, we heard some popping… well, a lot of popping. What do you expect, we are at Bull Run? Possibly a reenactment? That might be fun for tomorrow (always the optimist). But then the popping continued incessantly. What kind of a battle was Bull Run? Lucca trembled in her safe space, the bathroom.

We looked at the park map to get the lay of the land. There it was, the reason for the gunfire. Nestled unexpectantly next to the park was an outdoor shotgun range. The only one in the great state of Virginia. It was open from 8A to 8P.

Pop pop pop all day and into the night. The barrage of gunfire was unsettling for me but it was torture for Lucca.

The next morn we woke up to the early sounds of shooting. They must take a few test shots before the 8A opening. Lucca would not go out. We drove her off site so she would do her business. Later, to snuff the noise, we turned on the TV and ran the AC on high (the AC is pretty loud).

Time For Wine

Pam and I took off for the historic Wine tour at the Manassas Winery. I’m sure a glass or 5 of wine will help numb the uneasiness.

As he poured our first tasting and handed out bottled water, Zane, our tour guide, thanked us for joining him on the hottest day ever recorded. He told us that the first cannon shots of the Civil War happened at the entrance to the winery.

Zane was a history teacher and led tours as a side gig. I’m sure you smarties out there already know this but I did not. The Union Army named their battles after landmarks, hence the Battle of Bull Run was named after the Bull Run River. We could see the river from the winery. The Confederate Army named their battles after towns. In the south, the Battle of Bull Run was called the Battle of Manassas.

The winery was beautiful and historic. I won’t bore you with all the details but come visit. The wine was not Napa grade but we enjoyed it. We left without a bottle but the tour was well worth the price tag.

We (and I include Lucca in that) were quite cheery to leave the shot gun shelling Bull Run Regional Park.

We set our Waze to Barnesville, Pennsylvania and didn’t look back. It was a long drive but we listened to a mystery on Audible and that always helps diminish the feeling of a long drive.

Time For Peace

Lakewood RV Park was lovely. It was quaint, QUIET and tranquil. We parked our camper under the trees and across from a small fish pond. Lucca was happy to take a walk where the only sounds came from chirping birds.

The next day we hung out at the camper ever so happy to enjoy the baby ducks and reset our internal biorhythms to calm. We took a short walk to the Brown Bag Shop for hoagies and ate lunch at a shaded picnic table by the pond.

And we took some time to take a hike around the grounds and enjoy the amenities. They have cute little cabins if you ever want to visit.

Time For Friends

That evening we had exciting plans to have dinner with Marth, a high school friend, who I hadn’t seen in 50 years. We email to stay in touch but haven’t seen each other since shortly after high school. Oh the stories I could write but no fear Marth, my lips and tapping fingers are sealed.

We traveled east and west to meet midway at Marie Rose’s Restaurant in Bloomsburg, Pa. What a great reunion. It was as if we hadn’t missed a moment together since high school.

We met Marth’s husband, George, and had a delicious Italian meal together. But the meal was secondary to the fun conversation and camaraderie.

So glad we reconnected in person. Marth was thoughtful, as always, and brought us homemade blueberry muffins. Oh my goodness, to die for. Hated to say, “Goodbye” but we made plans to see each other again as we journey south from Niagara Falls. Very happy about that. See ya later Marth and George.

Don’t ya know there was a homemade ice cream shop within a stones throw of the restaurant. How could we resist?

We headed back to camp and stopped for gas about halfway home. “I’ll buy!” I said. But wait, where’s my wallet? …It’s not in my purse, not under the seat. It’s not in my pocket. What the heck?

The mystery will be solved in the next blog; or will it? Come along to find out.