Bargaining , Bartering and Bantering on Route 11

On Saturday, Elliott and I took part in Virginia’s longest yard crawl. Described as 43 miles plus, since technically it runs from Stephens City to New Market, but tables are set up nearer to Winchester and have reached down to Harrisonburg; the Route 11 Yard Crawl has been expanding since its start in 2005. Always held on the second Saturday of August, with well over 4000 tables set up selling absolutely everything under the sun, from complete tat to alluring treasure, tourists flock in from all over the country, plan their vacation around it, and families create a traditional visit that’s passed down the generations. Usually attracting about 40,000, that number likely increased this year since COVID cancelled it last year, meaning there was going to be lots to catch up on this year, with last year's carefully saved spending money put into this years coffers. And that’s what I was hoping when, for the first time, Elliott and I decided to have our own selling spot.

We’d chosen the drive in movie theater since it’s such a tourist attraction and with possible storms in the forecast the gravel car park would mean accessibility whatever the weather brought. Plus there would be bathrooms nearby, as well as refreshments for sale. The photo above is from The Winchester Star, and not from me scaling up the tallest tree with my camera. We set up our tables in a space where cars would normally park when watching a movie, so the speaker stands that stood in rows came in handy for hanging things on. We had a large area, for both of our cars, 3 tables and even room on the ground to lay stuff. The weather forecast rain later in the afternoon, but the morning was cool and a little muggy, with the sun peeking above the horizon as we unpacked.

Elliott on the right, with our goodies spread out, some of our own possessions, and plenty from Elliott's mom, who hands us bags of more stuff every time we visit, knowing we'll be selling it at events such as this. This was Elliott's first time being a 'vendor' and we were looking forward to the morning's foot traffic stopping at our tables. And stop they did. Very frequently. We got pretty busy at times, both of us needing to answer questions or sell things, and never a disagreement between us over pricing. Everyone had to leave by 4:30 since movies were playing in the evening, but we had no intention of staying that long. Once things died down a bit we were going to head for home, hopefully with little to pack back into the cars.

We enjoyed people watching, me especially interested in seeing the dresses the Amish lasses were wearing, and noting that despite their sensible frocks, they were still sporting designer shoes with big name bags slung over their shoulders. Good for them!

The shoppers were a little sporadic at first, but that gave me a chance to inspect, from a distance, other vendors' tables, and to munch on my cream cheese bagel, with lashings of Marmite, while Elliott sold a couple of bits and pieces. But then we spotted a long line of cars streaming in and driving round the back of us, where they parked up, and then marched towards the rows of tables, piled high with tempting treasures and goodies that just had to be bought. And luckily for us, they looked like they meant business. Many had brought bags and backpacks, while plenty of others pulled buggies and carts behind them, prepared to be fully laden by the time they went home. This made me happy.

I took a few photos of folks that stopped by. One couple, who had bought a doggie 'onesie' for their pooch. 30c! Bargain! I would've charge a $1.50! Another lady, arms already filled with her finds, and sporting a t-shirt she'd made herself for the occasion, and a gentleman who was wearing the current year's yard crawl t-shirt. Everyone was incredibly friendly, more than happy to stop and chat, inspect our wares and even pull out a few bills to exchange for what they were holding. Some bought on a whim, while others wanted a complete history of the piece they were inspecting, but it was all done with complete camaraderie. I never heard one raised voice all the time we were there.

We had to keep rearranging the tables since items were selling fast, faster than we'd thought, and things we had assumed we'd be taking back home were also snapped up. We were delighted it was going so well, and often got up to move things around, positioning them so they could be seen better. We got a little miffed when folks picked up neatly laid out clothing, and then chucked it back down in a heap, or left footprints on a clean rug, but we just sniffed and sighed, shook our heads, rolled our eyes, and then after the dramatics, rearranged them once the offenders had departed.

I was enamored with this little concessions cart. The driver trundled up and down the aisles, calling out on his scratchy sounding speaker, tempting people with his hot coffee, breakfast sandwiches or monstrously huge blueberry muffins. The cart had a small warmer for his sandwiches, an ice chest, a cooler with cold drinks and a huge coffee pot. I inspected it all and bought a coffee, trying to stop my eyes from sidling over to the muffins.

We were enjoying ourselves immensely and the time flew by. The sun, which had initially been quite hot, had disappeared behind clouds without us noticing. Our tables became a little bare, but cars were still queuing up behind us, waiting for spaces to empty so they could scour the treasures still available on vendors' tables. A few raindrops fell, not concerning us at first, but we moved material and paper products into the back of the cars, only to pull it all out again, almost immediately, as the shower stopped. 

The lady next to us said she'd done well and was going to pack up, but a couple from Ohio, who had bought 2 coffee tables from her, (the ugliest tables I think I'd ever seen), had gone to their car to discover they'd locked themselves out. So she was leaving their tables on her empty lot, for when they eventually returned. I sure hope they managed to collect them since a few people walked past them, looking them over...

And then, with no warning at all, the heavens opened. Rain drummed on the plastic tables as we scurried back and forth, packing the remnants of our sale into boxes and bags. We did this almost at the speed of light, since there wasn't much stuff left, and within minutes we were completely packed up and in our cars, albeit a little damp. As were many other vendors, obviously thinking the same as us; it was time to leave.

The thunder crashed as people scuttled back and forth, like insects rushing for cover. Vendors, who'd come prepared, threw plastic tarps over their wares, or lowered their canopy gazebos to shield goods from the downpour. Others succumbed to their drenching and just slowly sauntered around the tables, picking items up and pouring the rainwater off them as they studied the goods, hoping for a discount now they were wet.

We managed to drive out of the grounds quite quickly but then turned into Rte 11 traffic, which stretched in both directions as far as the eye could see. We sat in the single lane gridlock, the vehicles bumper to bumper. But I didn't mind, it was quite interesting as we were able to view tables on the grass verges and in people's front yards from our dry cars. Some fields had opened up for vendors, free of charge, while some trucks had parked in lay bys and then pulled out a table on which to lay their vendibles. Other trucks passed by, pulling trailers, well prepared, just in case they saw that kitchen sink they'd always wanted.

It wasn't long before we were free of the traffic and driving the short distance to home. Elliott counted the dosh and we were incredibly chuffed to find we'd made about $300 profit. So it was down to a local restaurant for a well deserved dinner and cocktail, while the rest of our flea market proceeds went into our house account. Now to start sorting out stuff for the next one!