Magnificent Mountains in Versicolor Virginia

Saturday was a dreary day, the occasional rain shower falling but I drove over to Winchester to check out the Ravenwood Faire, the first renaissance festival held here. There's one held in Maryland, which is a huge event, but that's now over 2 hours away from me, so I was interested to see if I could get my knight fix locally. They had announced there would be jousting and I managed to arrive just after they had started. Running over to the tournament grounds with my camera I was pleased to see the crowds weren't huge and I could get up close to the fence. There was obviously a good knight fighting against a bad knight but I had missed the story leading up to it, yet I didn't care, because all I wanted to do was stare at those wonderful suits of armor and admire the manly beefcakes inside them.

 They charged their horses up and down the runway, lances poised, and then I lost the battle plan, likely from staring at the opponents too much and not watching the actual action, because after one tumbled from his mount, the lances were thrown to the side and a splendid fight with swords took place, iron clanking as they parried back and forth, deep battle cries being bellowed from each. It was splendid! Helmets were ripped off and they fought as though to the death until one fell and the other thrust his sword into his quarry's chest. Well, that's how it looked. And then they both got up to walk with their mounts over to the fence so the kids could pet the brave steeds.

I wandered away to investigate the vendors that had small tents set up along a strip. There were a few visitors dressed up for the event, although few in what I could call proper renaissance outfits, some looking very gothic and others in styles that I'd never seen before. I met a fierce looking 'viking' kind of chap who was supping a mug of grog and later a beautiful 13 year old kestrel who was perched under a shelter and very much enjoying all the company he was receiving. Turkey legs and sausages were on sale, a tavern was set up, while a small podium had minstrels playing and jokers performing. The vendors were very fairly priced, and I ended up acquiring a beautiful wine goblet that had been blown that morning on site by a glass blower. There were a few craft vendors, some with beautiful wares, and I made another purchase, a selenite wand, just because it made me think of Lord of the Rings and it felt great in my hand. Apparently it has healing qualities so that's an added bonus.
The faire was small and after a couple of hours I'd explored every corner and seen all that I could, but I'd been very impressed at how well organized it had been for its first year. The crowds weren't huge but they were certainly enthusiastic despite the rain sprinkles. I shall definitely return next year.
I wasn't ready to go home so decided to travel some back country roads and enjoy the fall foliage.

The colors were stunning, almost peaking. We'd had a few weeks of drought and had feared the leaves would simply fall as crispy brown husks, but over the past couple of weeks the weather relented and shed some much needed moisture. The temperatures dropped by 30 degrees in one day and suddenly autumn had arrived. Nature had decided to put on a glorious show after all, the mountains getting brighter each day. Because it was a dull rainy day the colors were more subdued but the beauty still shone. I stopped to call a donkey, calf and llama over to the fence. All three were very curious and posed nicely for the camera. A pick up truck stopped with two guys inside, and the window wound down so the driver could smile at me and say, "Watch this!" He called out to the donkey who suddenly threw its head back, braying and honking loudly for at least two minutes solid. It was hilarious and so deafening that all I could do was stand and watch. I asked the guy afterwards why it had behaved that way. He laughed and just said, "She likes me!" They drove off and the donkey immediately returned to her docile pose, the other two creatures standing by and acting as though this happened all the time...
On Sunday the sun came out so with the peak foliage colors looking vibrant I drove up on to the Skyline Drive. The 'leaf peepers' from the cities and suburbs seemed to be waiting until next weekend as although there were a lot of cars at the outlook spots, there wasn't the crowds Front Royal usually has. A shame, as the mountains won't look this good next weekend. A warm wind was blowing, gusts of gold sprinkling across the road as I drove along, the air smelling like autumn, earthy and freshly fragrant.

The colors were magnificent, yellows and oranges more prominent than the browns, while green and red spots were still visible in the leafy canopies. It was spectacular. I stopped at a few lookouts and then hit the back roads again, enjoying the solitude and peaceful countryside. Even the cattle were enjoying this beautiful day, looking up when I asked for their photo. The blue sky was reflected azure in the Shenandoah, the water as smooth as a mirror.
I took the day off on Monday as this wonderful weather was going to continue for another day, and decided to hike. I had planned on White Oak Canyon but the ranger said there were a lot of people on the trail so I went up Cedar Run instead. It was dull and chilly in the valley as I set off, the creek bubbling alongside me. The damp emerald mosses and ferns offered the only brightness and as I leaned on the thick mosses, they squelched, loaded with water from the recent rains. The small waterfalls tinkled with icy white water, so bright that they appeared to freezing into crystals. The climb was steep and some of the rocks slippery with wet leaves. I wished I'd brought my hiking poles but did manage to find a nice strong stick, like Gandalf's staff, for the descent later.

The leaves had been dull and drab in the gloomy valley but as I climbed higher into the sun they transformed into gold, like a carpet of lustrous, shiny coins, with scattered red leaves among them like rubies. It became warm as the sun broke through the forest, so soon I was packing my jacket into my bag and enjoying the feel of the crisp air on my arms. I stopped at each waterfall for a few minutes to enjoy the scenery or chat with the few people I met on the trail. I passed a local couple, who like me, had taken the day off, and were equally amazed that there weren't more tourists on this trail. I chatted to an English guy who has lived this side of the pond for 30 years but plans to go back when he retires. We sat on boulders and swapped hiking tips and foods we missed from England.
Later, as I neared the bottom on my descent, I met a group of three early twenty somethings, resting on the side of the trail. They had been there for 45 minutes, watching one of the waterfalls. As I passed they asked, "Is it a steep climb up there?" I chuckled, telling them it was and the young guy in the group lamented how he'd done this trail three years ago and it was much harder today. I had to laugh, since they'd only just started, but then one of the girls said it was her first ever hike, and my heart warmed to them. I praised them for being outside and enjoying this beautiful show that nature was putting on for us, and said I hoped they'd hike forever, as it was far better for the soul than staring at their phones, noting that actually not one of them had their phone out. They lived locally and were incredibly polite,  and we chatted about the water falls further up the trail which they seemed keen to get to. They promised they would be back down the mountain before it got dark and we parted with waves and smiles. I walked back to Stanley feeling very fortunate that I live in such beautiful countryside with wonderful locals.

A Battle in Middletown

Sunday was a dreary, gloomy day, having rained overnight and during the early morning, the sky blanketed with thick rain clouds threatening to pour down at any moment. But Brian and I kept to our plans and drove out to Middletown to watch the 155th anniversary battle re-enactment of Cedar Creek, the last major battle in the Shenandoah campaign, where the confederates lost the battle, a loss that led to the re-election of Abraham Lincoln. The union soldiers had been burning crops and destroying farms in the Shenandoah valley, a 75 mile stretch of land, to ensure the confederate army had no food supplies, an act referred to as The Burning.
I was very excited to see this re-enactment since the previous two years had been canceled. 2017 because of a bomb found on site, apparently quite sophisticated, I was informed, and then last year protestors had ensured another cancellation. This year security was understandably tighter, but on this Sunday the spectators seemed to be few. Saturday had been crowded, as it was the actual day of the battle anniversary and also the weather had been sunshine with blue skies, but I preferred today's overcast gloominess. The morning of the actual battle had been shrouded with fog when the Confederates began their attack, so it seemed fitting that the re-enactment today would begin the same way.

There were about 2300 re-enactors on the field today and I was astounded at the size of the camps, multitudes of white canvas tents on each side of the field. I had been expecting just a handful so seeing the size of these two bases made me stop in my tracks so I could take it all in. Civilians and soldiers all dressed in their historical outfits made me feel like I was stepping back in time. As we walked about, peering under canvases to see clothing vendors, hat and belt makers and uniform supplies, I felt strange and dressed incorrectly. It was a scene straight from 1864, people going about their business and acting as though 2019 didn't exist. I wanted to duck into a tent and get changed immediately. This nearest camp was the Confederate camp, the Union troops about half a mile on the other side of the hill.

Small groups sat around fires, wood smoke drifting slowly across the fields, as they ate breakfast and drank coffee. I even noticed that their mugs came from the era they were re-enacting. I chatted to a few, wondering if they were cold, but their woolen attire kept them toasty warm, although I couldn't imagine that the rainy night previously spent under those heavy canvas tents could have been too comfortable. I touched a few of the thick canvas tents as I passed and they were sodden.
We chatted to a gentleman who had set up a surgery, frightening metal utensils next to a dummy on a table and a wooden box filled with glass bottles containing 52 medications, only one of which was a preventative, the rest were cures. He showed Brian and I a roll of horse hair used for stitches. The surgeons had discovered that boiling these in water gave them elasticity which avoided breakages and using the metal forceps to remove them from the hot water had inadvertently invented sterilization, and thus reduced wound infections. There was even an embalming table on display.

We came across this scene, which I had thought was a marriage being acted out, but after Brian listened for a few minutes, he informed me it was a Catholic mass and the couple were actually reaffirming their marriage vows. We stood quietly by, honored to have been a part of this intimate group.

The Union camp in the distance and the Confederate camp behind us as we walked through the soggy grass, leaving the confederate camp to visit the 'other side'. I was impressed at how realistic the layout seemed to be. The camps were a good distance from each other, which seemed to be off putting to the rest of the spectators as we didn't see any other folks walking over the fields to inspect the Union camp. We found out later that it was accessible from the road but we felt we got more out of the experience when walking across the huge divide, treading the ground on which so many hundreds of troops had fought on 155 years before.

We arrived to see that the Union troops were readying for battle, checking that their guns fired properly after the damp night. They cleaned, loaded and fired, then marched and twirled in place. I wasn't sure if this was for our benefit or to loosen up their stiff joints but I enjoyed watching the routines.

After a prayer, a colonel waited a few seconds and then in a deep voice growled, "Send the enemy to Hell, gentlemen." I had to chuckle.We heard quite a few comments like this throughout the afternoon, I wish I had recorded them all.

A few of the officers on horseback were enjoying cigars as they discussed strategy, wafts of delicious tobacco smoke drifting past my nose as I watched them. The officers talked in a small group and then orders were barked out, it was time to advance to the battlefield. And this re-enactment would take place on the exact same ground as the original 155 years ago. It gave me a few goosebumps as I thought about that and marched alongside them. They played their parts well, looking straight ahead and practically ignoring Brian and I. They looked like soldiers mentally preparing for battle.

We followed the Union troops as they marched from camp and towards the top of the battlefield. Nobody told us not to follow all the way but after about 50 yards of marching beside them we felt we should leave and return to the other side of the battleground where the spectators appeared to be collecting. We walked up the hill and met the Confederates, also marching and preparing their lines.

I was thrilled to see a woman and child resting on a wood pile near the battle ground, and supposed this might have actually happened at these battles, relatives watching and praying for their loved ones who were about to fight.

The lines of soldiers faced each other across the wide expanse of grass and rock outcrops and then the cannons fired, making me jump. The explosions shook the ground and my insides. Small orange flames spurted from the muzzles followed by great clouds of smoke that hung low over the field like a fog. Every so often a huge smoke ring belched out from the bores, but I didn't manage to capture one of those with my camera, I was too busy watching the men advancing towards each other. The Confederates were loud, screaming the Rebel Yell, originally learned from the Native Americans and used to intimidate the Union soldiers. It certainly intimidated me and at the start of the battle they appeared to be winning.

Lt. Gen. Early had managed a surprise early morning attack on the Yankees and thought the battle won when the Union soldiers retreated, but while his army were relaxing and relishing their supposed victory, Maj. Gen. Sheridan rallied his troops together and ferociously beat their opponents down and won the battle. We couldn't see a great deal because of the huge cloud of smoke that hung in the valley surrounding Heater House where most of the fighting was taking place but we got the gist of what was happening, thanks to a tannoy system that had been set up for the spectators, explaining each step of the battle.

Heater House, like many other homesteads, fared badly in the battle. Two of Caroline Heater's sons joined the Confederates, while Caroline was for the north, having come from PA. Her husband was a southerner but they had no slaves. They opened up their home to Union troops, who then treated it badly, eating all the livestock, ripping down fences for firewood, and taking the farm machinery. The Heaters applied for compensation but it wasn't until 30 years later when they received $5500, half of what they had applied for. The home is now a ruin but Cedar Creek Battlefield Foundation have set up a fund for donations to restore the building since it is one of the few buildings left in the valley showing seldom seen construction techniques.
The field went quiet when it was apparent that the Union troops had won the battle and a lone bugle played Taps while everyone stood silent. This had been an exceptional afternoon, and Brian was so enthusiastic about the experience that he plans to look into joining a re-enactment group. We left as the rain began to fall, troops from both sides joining together as they slowed marched back towards their camps, the smoke still hanging low over them so they appeared as ghosts slowly disappearing from view.