high adventure
The Alberton Papers, Vol III, #XV
By Dick Darne 2-5-07
High Adventure
After every one had left, I settled down in the only comfortable chair in the tank. I closed my eyes (to rest them, of course) and thought about the coming spring and summer. I had been planning a bicycle trip from Washington, DC to Pittsburgh Pa. Starting at the mall, right in the middle of the symbols of our history, traveling up the tow path of the historic C&O canal for about 135 miles to Cumberland Md., over the divide and down the Alegheney trail to Pittsburgh. Right through the heart of the history of our Republic. Pittsburgh was at the heart of the Whiskey Rebellion. Cumberland was where George Washington turned back after leading the troops he sent to quell the rebellion. The canal was built to bring goods from the frontier to the seaboard. I grew up just outside DC, while I would never expect to find much the same, I’ll bet the memorials and symbols are unchanged. As I got more comfortable, I drifted back to the thrilling days of yesteryear.
There we were, me and two of my friends, standing on the side of old Chain Bridge Road, about six miles out in Virginia. We extended our thumbs, pointing behind us as we walked backwards toward DC. It didn’t take long in those days, odds were someone who knew us would stop and let us pile in. Or pass us by and tell our mothers. About half the time we would get just over the bridge and our ride would be turning off, leaving us on old Canal Road. Hitching rides was not allowed in DC, so we would hike along the road until we came to one of the many old rowboats tied to each shore, to be used by the people who used to live in "the lowlands" between the canal and the river. If they saw us we were chased away, usually after we crossed the canal. We then followed the towpath to the Mall.
At our ages, the biggest attraction was the Washington Monument. Five hundred and fifty five feet, five and one eighth inches high. Ten cents for the elevator, which we never spent. Like the real men of those days, we walked up the stairs. What a view! There was just openings in the stone for windows, inviting us to roll various objects down the sloping sill and thence to the ground at thirty two feet per second per second or enough to penetrate one of the many living skulls lining the benches around the base but we never found the objects or a broken skull. Just in case, can they still bust us after fifty plus years?
We then had to hike back out of DC and stick out our thumbs in the hitch hiker-friendly state of Virginia.
Out where I lived was lots of "attractive nuisances". One was the old Salona Plantation, where Dolly Madison fled to and watched the Capitol burn. We spent many days searching for the "secret passages". There was a hand dug cave just off an old trail which may have been part of the underground railroad. Are they still there? Can you really go back home?
I’m more excited than the kids in the Disneyland ad. We’ll see. I’ll be reporting from the scene. dd
By Dick Darne 2-5-07
High Adventure
After every one had left, I settled down in the only comfortable chair in the tank. I closed my eyes (to rest them, of course) and thought about the coming spring and summer. I had been planning a bicycle trip from Washington, DC to Pittsburgh Pa. Starting at the mall, right in the middle of the symbols of our history, traveling up the tow path of the historic C&O canal for about 135 miles to Cumberland Md., over the divide and down the Alegheney trail to Pittsburgh. Right through the heart of the history of our Republic. Pittsburgh was at the heart of the Whiskey Rebellion. Cumberland was where George Washington turned back after leading the troops he sent to quell the rebellion. The canal was built to bring goods from the frontier to the seaboard. I grew up just outside DC, while I would never expect to find much the same, I’ll bet the memorials and symbols are unchanged. As I got more comfortable, I drifted back to the thrilling days of yesteryear.
There we were, me and two of my friends, standing on the side of old Chain Bridge Road, about six miles out in Virginia. We extended our thumbs, pointing behind us as we walked backwards toward DC. It didn’t take long in those days, odds were someone who knew us would stop and let us pile in. Or pass us by and tell our mothers. About half the time we would get just over the bridge and our ride would be turning off, leaving us on old Canal Road. Hitching rides was not allowed in DC, so we would hike along the road until we came to one of the many old rowboats tied to each shore, to be used by the people who used to live in "the lowlands" between the canal and the river. If they saw us we were chased away, usually after we crossed the canal. We then followed the towpath to the Mall.
At our ages, the biggest attraction was the Washington Monument. Five hundred and fifty five feet, five and one eighth inches high. Ten cents for the elevator, which we never spent. Like the real men of those days, we walked up the stairs. What a view! There was just openings in the stone for windows, inviting us to roll various objects down the sloping sill and thence to the ground at thirty two feet per second per second or enough to penetrate one of the many living skulls lining the benches around the base but we never found the objects or a broken skull. Just in case, can they still bust us after fifty plus years?
We then had to hike back out of DC and stick out our thumbs in the hitch hiker-friendly state of Virginia.
Out where I lived was lots of "attractive nuisances". One was the old Salona Plantation, where Dolly Madison fled to and watched the Capitol burn. We spent many days searching for the "secret passages". There was a hand dug cave just off an old trail which may have been part of the underground railroad. Are they still there? Can you really go back home?
I’m more excited than the kids in the Disneyland ad. We’ll see. I’ll be reporting from the scene. dd
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