The Tanks are back in Town

On Saturday, Elliott and I drove to Nokesville, VA, to visit what is locally referred to as the 'Tank Farm'. I'd last visited 5 years ago and loved the experience, seeing so many worldwide tanks with wheels covered in mud, some of which rumbled around a track. And today, here they were again, different mud, of course, but caked on regardless, making them seem so much more authentic. Of course, the thrill of seeing a gun turret jerk back and then pump forward to expel an ear rattling explosion would have been marvelous, but I knew that wouldn't happen. These tanks are laid out in a field with living historians, dressed in their country's war uniforms, sitting atop the turrets, or standing among tents, chairs, bunks and other war vehicles that were scattered over the field. The museum which is still in the plans of being built and is still trying to raise funds, will be located nearer to DC, but until that dream is realized, I'm more than happy to visit them here, preferring seeing them outdoors than the inside of a building. The website which explains everything is here.

I was having to exercise some caution as this was the first time my knee had got a serious workout since surgery, and with the uncut grass hiding dips and bumps, I had to watch my step. But it was all good and I still managed to move along at a reasonable pace, trying to hide my limp as I went.

Seeing these gargantuan hulks of steel hidden among dense bushes or standing silent in the field with their turrets pointed right at you is a sensational experience, almost like being on the set of a war movie. Deep ruts in the field marked their tracks to their final destinations, and I wished I could have been there when they were all arriving to take position. The deep thundering and squeaking of huge metal wheels, while spitting clouds of dust into the air around them, must have been a truly awesome sight.

At these events I'm always on the prowl for a vehicle I'd like to take home with me. I really liked the one above but it was a bit too much like the Scooby Doo van, so I walked on. The volunteer was also a little exasperated at not having been given any information on it that he could pass on to the public. I felt bad for him and slowly walked away, leaving him muttering under his breath. And then upon lifting up my head to look forward again, I saw IT, and nearly swooned. Instantly smitten, there in front of me was my dream runaround vehicle.

I hopped and limped over to it as fast as my knee would allow and loving stroked its grubby khaki green paint. This paint could stay but would need to be cleaned up with a coat of metal flake glitter added on top. Some blacked tires and a few diamond and chrome studs would make it my perfect shopping car. I could definitely keep frozen foods cool in there and no-one would be able to see in and consider stealing all my presents when I went Christmas shopping in it. Those big strong wheels would get me through any snow, ice or mud and I could even carry a couple of friends in there too. Imagine rolling up to The Beer Museum in that! I was rudely awakened from my daydreams by a small group approaching, talking almost knowledgeably about my new chariot. My ears did prick up when a young lad informed me this adorable runaround was called a BTR 152, a Russian armored personnel carrier, in service from 1950 to the present, and only costing about $39K. A steal! I want dis, it must be had! It was with the utmost reluctance that I tottered away to resume inspecting the other war machines.

The Japanese tank above was an intimidating battle vehicle, but of course, despite there being a varied collection of worldwide tanks, the British Centurion ruled the field, and definitely ruled battles all over the world. Adopted by all commonwealth countries as well as Denmark, Egypt, India, Iraq, Israel, Jordan, Lebanon, Libya, The Netherlands, Kuwait, Sweden and Switzerland, and also used by Australia in Vietnam and it was also successful against Soviet equipment. A magnificent piece of weaponry, it stood almost majestically in the field, wearing its mud on its tracks with almost tangible pride.

Even though it's all acting, the German camp still made me shiver a little, despite the hot sun. That uniform and the ambience that it radiates is still terrifying. I didn't take many photos or linger too long. I did tap a Nazi uniform in places, never before having the opportunity to touch a swastika badge, and never wanting to again.

A soldier was under the shade of some shrubbery, adding camouflage paint to his face. Seeing me watching him, he tipped his hat and I clicked my shutter quickly, and gave him a smile. All the historians here were extremely accommodating and would pose for everyone, either looking at the camera or holding a far away look, whatever you wanted. Elliott and I were constantly shooting these men, with our cameras, of course...

The smell of food kept assailing our nostrils and we were both hungry. Discovering there was a brewery nearby had me and Elliott rushing back to the car and off for a hearty lunch of shark burger, fries and beers, before returning to resume our tour of the fields.

This poor chap was all tuckered out, likely from the heat, and I sympathized with him. After our lunch and beers I stood looking down on him, and for a brief moment, contemplated joining him. I had been told by Civil War actors that their woolen uniforms kept them warm in winter and cool in summer, but today, I spoke with a couple of guys, also wearing woolen clothing, who told me different. They were sweltering under their jackets.

A couple of nice shots of Elliott. I did have to remove a rather largish bluebottle fly from his arm in Photoshop though, which he hadn't been aware of. And now some photos of me, taken by Elliott.

We had a long chat with these actors and their realistic set up. I particularly relished the camouflage netting above us, which occasionally emitted an arresting aroma of engine oil every now and then, causing me to inhale deeply. Lovely!. Their tent also had an impressive display on a wooden table of plates, cups, cutlery and pots, from the era, which I took a couple of photos of, and then later removed from this blog post, as I'd overlooked a huge roll of kitchen towels sat in the middle. I don't think they were around during war time...

 As we were considering leaving for the day, a young lad walked by, playing his bagpipes magnificently. He was like a pied piper, I had to follow. But I couldn't keep up with him, while trying to video him and watch my step. Yet, fortunately, I did manage a brief video of his playing.

I was exhausted by the time we left. The big lunch was making me drowsy and Elliott said we'd walked about 4 miles that day. It had been a superb day of heavy metal, a unique opportunity to get up close and personal with these imposing and impressive machines and their accompanying actors. I hadn't engaged with the vehicles and props as much as last time, being restricted by 'the knee', but I look forward to the next open day when I'll make up for it. Click here for the last time I came here in 2016.

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!

Here's Looking at You! Again!

On Sunday, Elliott finally got to see one of my favorite places near home, an Americana delight, the full blown, distinctly quirky, and jaw dropping greatness of the American Celebration on Parade. I've lost count of the times I've been here, on my own, or introducing this exhibition to friends, and each time I arrive, my excitement rises as I step into the grand hall, and I can only imagine what a child experiences on his or her first spectacular sighting.

A huge minstrel sits atop the ticket office in the reception area, a tantalizing foretaste of the greatness that lies around the corner. And then as you enter the vast warehouse, huge beaks and open mouths greet you, almost voicing their enthusiasm as you crane your neck to look up at these towering creatures. You can't help but smile, or gape, as every countenance is beaming above your head. This incredible space, filled with the hugest creations imaginable that can fit on a parade float, gives me so much joy, and I simply love bringing people here for their first time, their faces a picture as they round the corner to be greeted by this scene, fronted by a humongous beaming duck. Elliott had no words but promptly set to work with his camera. I was a little disappointed as I'd hoped for a breathless gaping look, all agog, and then a yelp of surprise, but I can't expect others to show their emotions as readily as I do, even at this flashy display of gargantuan vibrancy, so I accepted his immediate attention to photographing the wonders as his full stamp of approval.

Since I've already written a couple of blogs, here, and here, and posted photos, I thought that today, I would focus more on expressions and sparkle and paint, but I got a little off track as I walked round. I immediately noticed some of the props were missing while others had been added. The owner has another huge warehouse filled with parade float stuff, so they change things around every so often.

The polar bear display won the Queen's Trophy at the 1998 Rose Parade. Their fur gets a little grubby during the drives, so is recovered frequently. The biker bear is on a 3 wheeled motorcycle which wheeled through the 2008 Rose Parade, his trike decorated with over 500 red roses. I was obsessed with photographing his sunglasses. The ducks at the entrance first appeared in the 1991 Rose Parade and as hockey players in a Philadelphia Thanksgiving Parade.

I just love the faces on the creatures, all created with an artist's skilled hand, wielding a brush with paint, or coaxing paper, fabric or natural materials into wonderfully endearing expressions. And of course, lots of glitter. The lighting inside isn't particularly bright but the well placed lamps and the darker areas allow the floats to glitter and sparkle, vibrant layers of paint or gathered twists of shiny fabric glimmering and glowing, with spotlights illuminating special features.

The flag float is ginormous, and served as a backdrop for President and Mrs Reagan to greet thousands of Americans as they attended a parade.The limousine has appeared in the Rose Parade as well as movies and special events, and is covered in black fur. The gold fabric was all hand tufted by Earl Hargrove, the original owner of this collection, and who created and crafted parade floats for over 65 years in D.C. The wheel on the pirate ship caught my eye, the paint gleaming like copper.

I only spotted one unhappy face as I walked about, but she still made me chuckle despite her heavy frown. But the funniest of all the expressions here, for me, were the pelicans. I could spot them laughing at me, wherever I walked, and they just seemed to be having a gay old time. A button can be pressed to activate them so they twirl around on the float.

The seahorses on Neptune's float have appeared in numerous parades for over 50 years, and the wheels were once on a gladiator's chariot.Even the sea serpent appeared on another float, breathing fire.

We finally clipped our lens caps back onto our cameras and left the warehouse, but not without one last look over my shoulder as I re-entered the world of normality. There had only been a few other people as we walked around, yet the receptionist said that over 200 visitors had turned up the day before. This gem of wonder, nestled deep in the Shenandoah valley, is gaining popularity as more people discover it, and I know for sure, that I'll be back again. Maybe with some more friends, who've never been, just so I can watch their faces light up when they turn that corner.