VA’s Historic Triangle

It’s a bright and colorful Veterans Day weekend.

Peg and I are driving the back roads of Loudoun, Fauquier, Prince William and other rural counties of northern Virginia.   We are heading to what’s called the Historic Triangle: Williamsburg, Yorktown and Jamestown.  Here English settlers first set foot in what was then called the New World, around 1607.

Day 1

In a town called Lightfoot (a salute to RE Lee’s Daddy) we refortify at Pierce’s Pit BBQ.  Our AAA guide book gives it high marks.  Lunchtime lines of hungry patrons lean in toward the source of savory aromas.  We are quickly and courteously attended at the busy counter.  Not knowing the menu we opt for sampler platters.

Soon we devour three types of pulled-apart creatures: pork, chicken and beef.  Tender meat falls off the rib bones. Side dishes are predictable and portioned modestly. The Brunswick Stew is unfamiliar to a boy from Brunswick, Georgia. We lick our fingers in salute to the grill master who is too busy to notice.  Total fare $22.00.

Parking is free and easy along the historic and meticulously maintained riverfront. We check out a compact beach on James River, walk quiet streets and stroll through an old graveyard.  It’s near sunset and oddly quiet.

But we are in good hands.  Our driver, Loren, (a retired Navy Storekeeper, who’s lived all over the world) points out notable sites including restored earthworks that were the hand-crafted local defense put up to repulse  the final major British assault marking the beginning of end of Revolutionary War.

We walk the quiet brick boardwalk and end up in cozy Yorktown Pub. Ambiance is cozy and familiar.  Locals shout, jostle and joke with the wait staff. Walls are covered with service caps, graffiti and carved initials.  One feels instantly at home.  We slurp down a dozen local oysters ($10) and wash them back with local stouts.

It’s time to retire but this day’s adventure ain’t over yet.  The night time drive back to Williamsburg is harrowing.  The previously splendid and pristine Colonial Parkway is unlit and unmarked.  We creep along (not knowing where the center line or edges of the cobbled pavement begin or end) while locals fly by, passing at whim and annoyed at our uneasy progress.

Finally, back at our inviting accommodations we are just in time for a book talk with local author followed by a comfortable, restful night.

Day 2

Cheerful sunlight spills through dappled yellow leaves into our temporary home.  We snack for breakfast then are buried in information regarding this “rare, investment” opportunity. I ask many pointed questions, but ultimately decline numerous offers to purchase a piece of the deed.  This was the carrot that brought us here, but we are not moved to become owners.

Once again on the Colonial Parkway we stop to admire some noble memorials. There are testimonials to French military attachments who helped repulse the Brits.  We read the names and salute those who helped convert the 13 original colonies into an emerging nation.

Our new-found friend and local guide, Carole, (a retired military nurse, who served during the inconclusive War in Viet Nam), recommends a local diner for lunch.  We are grateful for the tip.

Shorty’s is a quaint, throwback 50’s era burger joint, and a local institution.  We are well satisfied with oversized Burgers, Greek Salad, Hand-Shaved Fries and Milkshake.  Throw back music conjures memories of “Happy Days” in the ’50s.  We are served by sociable, energetic Lauren.  There is a lively vibe which transmits another era in American culture. Lunch for 2 with tip $28.

We are now ready to take on Historic Williamsburg and park for free behind the College of William and Mary (W&M) bookstore.  Late afternoon light lengthens shadows and period costumed vendors pack up souvenirs.  But there is still plenty to see.

Dusk settles in.  We are drawn by festive lights to the Williamsburg Inn and accept complementary glasses of champagne as  we arrive. The young front doorman is a daytime W&M graduate student in business and hails from Jamaica.  His mild Caribbean accent seems oddly at home here.

We admire colonial furnishings in the lobby and watch as the distinguished looking  dinner crowd piles.  But we are now in the mood for something simpler.

Day 3

We arrive at the national park before it opens at 8:30 and find we cannot even ride our bikes in until it opens.  A drive back to town for coffee delivers us to the totally charming, congenial Chickahominy Inn.

We return to Jamestown Landing Park.  It is now open.  We skip the museum and go straight to the quiet, tranquil nature preserve which was the arrival point for 103 emigres from England, the first European settlers in this part of the new world.  We look over Powhatan Creek and admire vistas of James River decked out in exquisite autumnal finery.  Curious deer stop and regard our slow passage around the quiet woods.  All is serene.