The home of Frank and Betty Ann dates back to 1790.

For a relatively 'young' country, the USA has a rich history. They also understand how to protect and preserve it. It is not at all unusual for ordinary Americans to conduct their lives in the midst of that history, in towns and indeed their very homes.

Yesterday was, by my standards, a very short ride, a little over ninety minutes. Down the I95 and then branch off to Courtland VA where I was to catch up again with Frances and Tammy. 

Frances runs a small hairdressing business from her home and she sees it as her ministry to cut the hair of the elderly as well. Her sister-in-law Betty Ann was just leaving as I arrived and after a brief chat she invited us over to see her home later in the day.

Frances then cut my hair. She is really good and I regret that I am averaging only one cut with her every ten years. Soon after that Dennis arrived for a haircut with his wife Susan. They have a Harley and also belong to the Christian Motorcyclists Association. They are going later this year to Vanuatu as missionaries, she to teach and he to set up a feeding program for children. They offered to pray for me and as mentioned before, I greatly value Divine assistance.

Frances' husband Ron arrived home after his golf and Tammy also returned from her morning job. Frances then drove Tammy and me to visit Betty Ann and her husband Frank, who is the brother of Frances and Myrt.

A few years ago Frank retired and the left Northern Virginia to return to the south; and they bought the Historic home pictured above. It was built in 1790 and although updated with modern plumbing, electricity and bathrooms and a kitchen, much of the interior is pretty original. For example, the ceilings are 14' high, there are no built-in cupboards and the doors are rather large and heavy and 'lock' with a wooden plank in brackets across the opening. Lath and plaster construction dominates and of interest was the staircase in 'Jefferson' style.

The dwelling block has been subdivided from the original plantation, but in the absence of fences and other boundary demarcations it appears still to be part of the plantation. Being familiar with the old song 'Cotton fields', it gave me a little buzz to see the cotton fields surrounding the house with the white of the swelling cotton bolls punctuating the greenery.

Frank gave me a tour of the outside as well, and while looking across to the family graveyard of the former family, gave me some more history of the house and the region.

Back inside the house we experienced cool relief from the outside heat and humidity, helped along by a slice of cold watermelon.

After returning to Courtland I said my farewells to Frances, Ron and Tammy, put the bike in gear and headed for the North Carolina border and Murfreesboro where I was to stay the Labor Day weekend with another old friend, Jennifer, who owns a bed and breakfast and wine bar. This building dates back to 1808 and has a notable history from that time. Just another example of real history being part of everyday life. More on The Commons and Murfreesboro in the next few days.

The Skyline Drive, perhaps the most famous feature of The Shenandoah National Park. Where it was prettiest there was no place to stop or visibility was poor.

For the ride down to Richmond, Tom suggested the long way round, with interesting (read winding) roads and wonderful scenery. When he mentioned The Blue Ridge Mountains it didn't take me too long to long to depart from my original thoughts of traveling via the Iwo Jima Memorial in DC, although it was considerably further to travel.

Good move. The road developed some really nice bends when it entered the higher ground, but as the road was wet, I did not push it too hard. Visibility was very poor so the scenic views, of which there are many, were all obscured. However, I took photos here and there and they will prompt my memories in future. On the way up I came across a shop that sells solid wood furniture made with traditional tools. Flick to the Photos tab to have a grin.

Approaching lunch time I stopped at Big Meadow to have lunch and a break and on the way back to the bike was stopped by a couple from California and then a group of mixed bikers to chat. Spent about fifteen minutes with the bikers who gave me some ideas for further south. Tail of the Dragon, anyone?

Visibility had improved a touch so I tried taking a few scenic shots. Not too successful, but on a clear day it is spectacular!

Skyline Drive requires entry to the Shenandoah National Park (another use of the Annual Pass :-) and it runs the full length of the Park. So, long and thin, it incorporated the Shenandoah River valley on the one side and the Virginia Piedmont on the other. Establishing a National Park in the heavily populated east of the USA required the acquisition of homes and farms and some folk would not go. They were expropriated with compensation but, even in the early 1930"s, there was a great deal of controversy over this. However, it is a gift of priceless worth to the citizens of the USA and indeed the world, in perpetuity.

Shortly after lunch I was surprised and very excited to see a black bear cross the road in front of me. I stopped and while trying to get my camera out, there came another! I was too slow to get a photo but them's the breaks. Deer are by now like kangaroos: they exist in almost plague proportions.

It was wonderfully cool on the Skyline Drive but eventually I had to turn off east and head for Richmond Va where I was to catch up with some old friends - and two new ones - for dinner. I last saw Frances, Myrt and Tammy about ten years ago, but we keep up via the medium of Facebook. Their cousin Jackie and I became FB friends perhaps a couple of years ago; and her husband Dave and their son Geordie were there too. A very pleasant evening.

Today I travel south and will drop in and see Frances and Tammy again. North Carolina awaits.

• Harpers Ferry WV. JEB Stuart said he would happily attack it many times, but not wish to defend it even once.
  

Having spent the night in Charles Town WV with the objective of a short ride to Harpers Ferry the next day, I had an easy morning updating the blog and getting some washing dry. Air conditioning is a wonderful invention; and is even more to be appreciated on a muggy day such as yesterday was.

At the Harpers Ferry National Historical Park (Annual Pass is now more than paid for, Antietam was also 'free') the rangers at the entrance were obviously having a slow day. They were very keen to chat about my trip and could not have been more welcoming and helpful. I think I must be south of Mason Dixie.

When I went into the Visitor Center I was surprised at the lack of emphasis on the War. In response to my questions, I was passed over to a young gentleman who perhaps had been waiting all morning for someone like me. Out came the map and I was treated to a really enthusiastic and knowledgeable description of the events of September 1852. Names of commanders, anecdotes, military appreciation, the whole box and dice. I was riveted, as were a few others who were standing around. Really Excellent.

A la Bryce Canyon, there was a shuttle bus, but with just the one stop in the lower old town. Harpers Ferry is fully open to the public and their vehicles, but in peak season you will not get parking. Take the shuttle bus.

The town is, or was, strategically important, and during the war it changed hands several times. Located on the banks of the Potomac River, it has a wonderfully scenic location, nestled below the Maryland Heights. In its hey day, it was also an important industrial town, deriving power from the river to derive machinery, but in 1935 one more devastating flood saw the end of that era. It is today a commuter community (and popular tourist destination) for Washington DC and surrounding towns. I spent half an hour at the station waiting for Tom vdB and was entertained by two trains that passed through, as well as taking some additional photos of the very pretty town.

Talking of the town, I dropped into a shop -the name escapes me - looking for my Harpers Ferry sticker, and spoke to the owner Cindy and her assistant Crystal.  Friendly, helpful and charming; as were all the folk I met at Harpers Ferry. I also really appreciated the air conditioning. It was really humid yesterday!

Harpers Ferry is also very important in the history of Abolitionism. John Brown launched his raid here, for which he was arrested and arraigned for treason, found guilty and hanged in Charles Town. That raid almost certainly contributed to the war that followed. As I travel through the area, it seems to me that the events of the 1860's were really not that long ago.

Harpers Ferry is a very pretty town with a most interesting history that pre- and post dates the war. It is well worth a visit.

Tom and Gayla, who so kindly hosted me for two nights. Tom rides a BMW R1150R And he showed me some of his favorite roads. 

As will be seen from the photo in the Photos tab, the terrain at Manassas is quite unremarkable. It is the railway junction and its proximity to Washington DC that made this worth fighting over.

The First Battle of Manassas Virginia, or Bull Run; was the first real engagement of the war. Both sides were green and many thought the war would end when the other side lost the battle. The local population from both sides came and watched - from a little distance - but in the case of those from the North, that turned out to be too close! The Union forces appeared to be prevailing but were eventually routed, with the spectators being caught up in the retreat. It was at this battle that General Thomas Jefferson gained his sobriquet 'Stonewall'. His fellow General Barnard Elliot Bee Jr is said to have rallied his troops by referring them to Jackson holding his position like a stone wall. General Bee suffered mortal wounds in that battle.

I have been struck by a couple of observations of the war. The first is that it was very fluid, and territory could be fought over on more than one occasion. Harpers Ferry changed hands on several occasions and indeed, about a year later, there was the Second Battle of Manassas - also a Confederate victory. Another observation is the way infantry fought. They often (usually?) lined up in ranks opposite each other and tried to shoot each other to pieces. On all too many occasions they achieved this objective with eminent success. It may be because it is certainly easier to reload a musket while standing, but how foolish is that!?

At the Manassas Visitor Center I spoke with a volunteer guide about the necessity for a war of the shooting variety. He delivered to me a conspiracy theory, that the International Bankers precipitated the war to divide the USA which was beginning to challenge Europe economically! I listened respectfully, decided to keep silent about my occupation and moved on.

I took time out from educating myself in American history to try and change Australian history. I rode into Washington DC in pouring rain to vote at the Embassy.

The Americans know how to do symbolism. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier under the Arc de Triomphe in Paris is iconic, but it is in the middle of a frantically busy traffic circle and plagued by camera-clicking tourists. Is it guarded? I have not seen one.

The Americans have Arlington National Cemetery, just across the Potomac from DC.One arrives to a sign advising that this is the holiest shrine in all of the country and visitors are to be silent and show respect. There are further signs around the more than 600 acres where the message is echoed more succinctly: SILENCE and RESPECT. 

Arlington is perhaps better known to many as the burial place of President John F Kennedy. His grave, and that of Jackie and two children have a view across to the Lincoln Memorial. Bobby and Ted are nearby, too.

But apart from being an operating cemetery, Arlington is the resting place of the Unknowns.

As per an act of Congress, procedures were established to choose the remains of unidentified soldiers from the major conflicts to be interred in the Tomb of the Unknown at Arlington. These dead soldiers have symbolically been awarded the Medal of Honour and their remains are guarded around the clock 365 days a year. It is simple and very solemn, with a sentry patrolling left and right with military precision drill. Each hour or half hour as the case may be, depending on the season, there is a ritualized Changing of the Guard. I will not describe it in detail, but you can see it on YouTube. This is a serious business and it helps me understand why so many of the serving military are so committed to, and proud of their service and country.

On the way in I passed the Iwo Jima memorial. Wow! On my next visit to DC I will stop there.

Tom messaged me and we met near the Pentagon and rode home together. Some terrific roads, but two really serious traffic jams as well. A pleasant family dinner concluded the day. 

Thanks, Tom, Gayla and Christine.

The Battlefield of Antietam, Maryland. A view of the Cornfield.

As some readers may know I have a mild interest in American history and politics. When I concluded it was time to leave Gettysburg and continue southwards, I looked at my map and saw that Antietam was, well, kind of South; and Gettysburg had tweaked my interest. One thing I wanted to observe was if there was a change in emphasis and attitude to the individual battles and the war generally as I progressed from the Union states to the Confederate. At Gettysburg, as previously noted, the Union side is preeminent, the Confederacy dismissed except for the fact that they were beaten. 

Antietam was and may still be, the bloodiest day in all of American history. Nearly 23,000 casualties. In the early part of the battle, lives were being lost at the rate of one a second. The fighting raged all day and neither side could claim a victory,but the lecturer at the visitor center seemed to lay more emphasis on the fact that Robert E Lee withdrew. But as he did, the Union General McLellan did not pursue him. Indeed, Lee continued to skirmish with the Union forces and returned less than a year later. That is hardly a great victory or even a victory at all, but it was used as the prop for the Emancipation Proclamation.

A guide at the Visitor Center told me that the victorious side wrote the histories and therefore got to name the battles. The North would name for a geological feature, the South for the nearest town. The North considered this battle theirs and called it after Antietam Creek. The South are not up for this and they call it the Battle of Sharpsburg. (The North clearly won at Gettysburg, so why is it not the Battle of Little Round Top, or Cemetery Hill?)

Around Gettysburg and Antietam I was engaged by quite a number of people who were interested in my travels. I can't remember all their names. Some ride themselves, or used to, others noticed the stickers on the panniers. At Gettysburg, Russ from Clinton Mississippi and his friend prayed a blessing on me and the bike. 'Lord, keep the rubber down and the other side up!' That works for me! I appreciated that very much. At Antietam/Sharpsburg I had a long chat with Brent E and his wife from New Jersey. He is a Vietnam veteran and we have very similar principles.

Just reflecting back for a moment, rural Pennsylvania is very picturesque and I enjoyed the many pretty views. It was the second state to form the Union and has a long history so closely linked to the American experiment in democracy. German migration was very strong and there was also Huguenot migration - French Calvinists fleeing persecution by the Catholic church. I should have taken more photos.

Pickett's Charge at the Battle of Gettysburg 3 July 1863, by Paul Phillippoteaux.

Liz departed for the airport and her week in South Africa. It was very lonely back in the hotel room and the subsequent loading of the bike on my own some just highlighted how efficiently we had worked as a team on the ride.

The ride out of Manhattan and into the Lincoln Tunnel was slow but steady, but I was surprised and put out to be warned of a traffic delay on the New Jersey Turnpike. I dropped of, incurring a toll charge of 35 cents (I laughed) only to run smack-bang into another queue. I hit the 'avoid' button on the GPS and it actually worked rather well. At this stage I should record that my destination is Jamison PA, where I would be meeting an old friend, Amie, and her husband Frank.

I am making steady progress through the rather drab urban landscape and begin to enjoy the ride a bit more as this starts to look more like suburbia. Until I run into another traffic queue near New Brunswick. Time to stop for lunch, a tactic that was reasonable given the time of day, because when I returned to the road it was flowing better. 

A word about New Jersey drivers. Some are desperately incompetent.

It was good to get to Frank and Amie  we just say down and talked and as they were off to church I was happy to go along  Rather interesting. Afterwards Amie drove us around the area, focusing on Doylestown. It is a very pleasant town and it has the really fascinating Merger Museum. Iamented the fact that I did not have my camera with me.

A simple dinner with Fiano to drink and we chatted and played music until late. Such an easy friendship, it is lovely. Another chat over breakfast and it is too soon time to hit the road.

In the early 2000's I had driven through Gettysburg and had been greatly impressed with my impression of how that battlefield had been marked out and maintained. That planted within me the desire to return and look at it more closely. This I was about to do.

I had recently heard on the ADVrider site about couch surfing. I had signed up and put out a request for a couch in Gettysburg and received an acceptance. So I had arranged to meet my host Nathan and his wife Gleice (she is Brazilian) .... at church! This I duly did. They were a very welcoming group and I felt right at home with some solid Reformed preaching. I met Nathan's mum and dad and (I think) all of his eight siblings! It is their habit to hang around Church afterwards and this we did until 10.30 pm.

Nathan has an interest in wine, guns, reptiles, theology etc etc, a man after my own heart. We covered a lot of ground in the short time we were together and I really appreciated their hospitality and our time together.

On to Gettysburg. I arrived shortly after 8 am so beat the eventual crowd. That meant I was able to get a really good position in the Cyclorama show as well as have an unhurried look at the exhibits. Once again, a fabulous presentation of American history.

After that I toured the battlefield and cemetery. In relation to the former, it is clear who won, made plainer I imagine by the fact tgat Pennsylvania was a Union state. I think that there are now too many monuments and it is rather cluttered on the Union side. 

The Confederate side has fewer memorials and they are smaller as well creating, at least for me, a simpler and more dignified atmosphere. To give one example, the statue of Union General Meade is perhaps twice life size, on his horse, in the open and very prominent. I found that of Confederate General Robert E Lee on the side of the road in the woods, life size, no horse and two roadside parking bays. That is not nice.

Gettysburg is seared into the American soul.  Although a Union victory, it was American killing American and the South lost not only wealth, but the flower of its youth. Some might venture that 150 years recovery is not yet complete. And of course Gettysburg is internationally renowned because of Abraham Lincoln's immortal address. 

I am no historian, but I wonder why it was thought necessary to fight. Economic sanctions would have worked, surely.

I could easily return to Gettysburg. If I do, I will take a personal guided tour.  It is a sad place, but the lessons of history are if you don't know it, you are doomed to repeat it.

Inspired by Gettysburg, I decided to visit Antietam. I will post that tomorrow morning.

When Liz said she would come on the ride with me, she would often say how anxious she was about the whole idea. But she also said that when she got of the bike in New York City she knew she would have a great sense of achievement and have enjoyed it immensely.

Yesterday morning after a short two hour ride from Scranton PA we passed through the Lincoln Tunnel and into a traffic jam on W 43rd Street! Those last few miles to the hotel were very stressful. The guys drive worse than the Canadians and the bike started to overheat! Was I stressed? Check!

After successfully avoiding the several attempts of unidentified New Yorkers trying to kill us; and relying on my arithmetic skills rather than a sadly confused Garmin to navigate (sequentially numbered streets are very useful) we pulled onto the footpath outside the hotel. I do believe Liz floated off her pillion and held her arms above her head exclaiming 'I did it!' Some 5,400 miles / 8,500 kilometers in twenty seven days, of which twenty two were riding days. The amazing sights, great beauty, immense landscapes, mighty rivers, high mountains and their clear, sparkling streams. I know why they call Montana the 'Big Sky State'. The interesting and friendly people we met; and catching up with friends and family. An adventure indeed and what a privilege to be able to do it.

But we were in New York. Unusually, the Big Apple was not the reason for our trip, as it is for millions who visit every year. It was and end point for Liz and an intermediate one for me,  thus the duration of our visit was just the one day and one night. We will, DV, return one day and spend a bit more time in some of the great cities.

On this occasion we walked downtown to Macy's, received our discount cards and did some shopping. A slow walk back up town and I ducked into the ANZ office on Park Street to greet some of my colleagues. Good to see them again.

Back at the hotel I grabbed Liz's bike gear and repaired to the Post Office to send it to Portland to await my return.

After a short rest we climbed on the subway at Lexington and 51st and got off at Spring Street where we had a most pleasant dinner at Balthazar's with my nephew Alex (he works for Macquarie in NYC), his wife Jackie and some of their friends.

This morning Liz left for the airport and a week in South Africa to see her dad and I leave for Pennsylvania to see some friends and visit the great battlefield of Gettysburg.  

To those who are following, thanks for your interest. The comments are much appreciated, and a good many folk are commenting to us via Facebook, also much appreciated.

OK. Gotta pack!

Tim and Cathy. Duncan's longest standing friends.

We had a bit of a mishap with Liz's helmet and decided to replace e it if we could. That caused us to ride to Mississauga, but we decided to wait until we are back in Melbourne. A bit naughty because the helmet would not pass inspection by Mr Plod.

As Mississauga is close to Toronto, we decided to visit the city center and have lunch. We had been told by Gary that the Greater Toronto Area had overtaken Chicago as the third largest conurbation in North America. Well, their freeway system is extensive and frightening, exacerbated by the erratic and inconsiderate driving of the Canadians. They drive slowly in the fast lane and vice versa, change lanes without indicating and generally behave as if they were entitled to the road  not too dissimilar to Australians, but certainly in a class of their own. Little did I know then that it was good training for New York.

The Lunch was a pleasant affair at E11even, diagonally over the road from PwC and with a menu that matched that sociodemographic. We were served by a dynamic and delightful young lady, Michelle, who is training to become a sommelier  we got into a lively conversation about wine and rather distracted her from her other duties!

Time to get on our way to Mono, a rural community perhaps a bit more than an hour north of Toronto.  I say perhaps because it took us a lot longer than that. The Garmin was out of its depth and I was as stressed as I was angry at the poor performance of an expensive GPS.

We were on our way to see my oldest and very dear friends, Tim and Cathy. I met Cathy in my early teens and Tim in my miud teens. I introduced them and after forty something years they are still together and we are still friends. Cathy's sister Glynnis also said hello and their daughter Dominique was also in attendance with her husband Brendan. We see each other very infrequently because of distance but we keep in touch.  True lifetime friends.

After a great time with Tim and Cathy, all too short, we flew down the highway to Niagara Falls, which we made in two hours. I had been there before but still found them to be a magnificent spectacle, as did Liz. As we had decided to put in a good distance that day, we were soon on our way across the border and on the Interstate. We were making good time until someone had an accident and they closed the road. We immediately shot over to the byways, far more scenic, far less stressful and slower!

Lunch was needed and I used the GPS (brave!) To identify a place for lunch, and we landed up in yet another pretty town, Caledonia NY. As we we getting set to resume the ride after lunch, the heavens opened!  We ducked into a doorway and watched for a while and when it eased, took off - straight into the downpour! Eventually we rode out of it, but in my rear view mirror I could see the blackness chasing us. After a while we needed another break and the GPS took us to Trumansville. I commented to Liz that we should not dally. Oops. As we were finishing our coffee, the heavens opened once more. We watched from the coffee shop and the moment it eased, we took off again - once more into heavy rain!

By now we were drenched and even my boots were wet.  We pressed on and once again rode out of it as we headed south and east. And once again we rode into I the rain, this time of Biblical magnitude! Large, pelting drops of rain but this time accompanied by some decent lightning bolts. I ducked, and felt silly for doing so, but with no shelter in sight it was all I could do.

We eventually landed up in Scranton PA, damp and tired after nearly twelve hours on the road, covering 411 miles, setting ourselves up for a two hour ride into New York City the next day.  We ordered Dominos pizza in our room and went to bed!

Many of Liz's friends will know that she comes from a long line of German Lutheran pastors. But many would not know that her maternal great-great grandfather was a pioneering pastor and was the minister at St Lorenz Evangelical Lutheran Church in Frankenmuth MI from 1851 to 1857. When Liz's Dad, himself a missionary (now retired) heard we were crossing Michigan, he mentioned this connection and suggested we make a visit.