Hi, I’m Jamie, he’s Jeff, and we’re traveling full time in a small teardrop trailer we call The HMS Beangle. Ok, it hasn’t been that long since my last post, but it’s definitely been a minute.
The last few weeks have involved much reading, much relaxing, and some very wonderful days spent camping with Bob and Pam (of the Airstream) — friends from back in the day. You may remember them from one of my very first posts, back in May 2025. I’m also trying to make sense emotionally of our visits to three major and a few minor battlefields, but I’ll address all that some other day.
We arrived at one of the prettiest campgrounds we’ve seen so far, Sherando Lake Recreation Area in the George Washington & Jefferson National Forest, a few days before Pam and Bob, so we impatiently bided our time by heading over to Appomattox Court House National Historical Park and, as has become our habit, stayed far longer than we expected to.
As I mentioned from our trip to Bennett Place in North Carolina where General Johnston surrendered to General Sherman, the Civil War didn’t stop with General Lee’s surrender to General Grant, but it couldn’t continue much longer either. You could say it was the psychological end of the Civil War.
While it’s an absolute shame historically, it’s no huge surprise that neither Southerners in general nor the State of Virginia in particular took any interest — at all — in preserving the site or the buildings associated with the Army of Northern Virginia’s surrender. In time, fire, abandonment, and rot did the work of physical erasure, leaving only a few original buildings standing.
After WWII, the National Park Service rebuilt the village’s central structures with the help of records and photographs, and the few that did survive were restored. As a result, the story of those fateful few days is available to modern visitors.
After laying down their arms and swearing to not resume hostilities against the U.S., each surrendering soldier received a personalized parole pass that authorized safe passage across Federal lines, the right to daily rations en route, and travel on Federal trains as he traveled home. In addition, any soldier in possession of his own horse was allowed to take it home to assist with spring planting.
Since Bob and Pam had picked the Sherando Lake campground in part due to its proximity to Shenandoah National Park, we knew we would drive a chunk of Skyline Drive (the northern continuation of the Blue Ridge Parkway) and explore the area a bit. As we all wanted to do a bit of hiking as well, Pam did some sleuthing and recommended a trail on Bearfence Mountain. She mentioned that it had a 360° overlook and involved some scrambling. That it did. As we scrambled up and over boulders, creeped along a rocky ridge line, and slid down rock faces, I had moments where I wondered if she was actually trying to kill us all off. Bob’s photos (below) give you an idea of what we encountered.
Leaving Sherando a few days later, Jeff and I took the all freeways route to our campground outside of Washington, D.C. while Bob and Pam pulled the Airstream through the rest of Skyline Drive’s twisty, turny route to check out more of the park, meeting up with us a few hours later. Part of me wanted to see more of what Shenandoah had to offer, the other part wanted a break from the twisty, turny roads we’d been driving for the past several weeks. As driver, Jeff definitely wanted a break from them. Near the end of our drive, we were reminded that Google Maps needs a “pulling an RV” button in their settings. Following its directions in a rather busy area outside of Dulles Airport where we were going from one freeway to another, the our directional overlord put us in the express/HOV lane of the exit ramp instead of the regular lane. Unfortunately, once in it, you can’t get off until it ends. Fun fact: Trailers are prohibited in express/HOV lanes. That was a jolly fine when the toll bill came. Lesson learned.
We spent little time in the Capital, but our single excursion into the nation’s city did bring with it some enjoyable finds. On the train there, it didn’t click that going on a Saturday would mean the National Mall and the more famous museums would be chockablock full of additional tourists, but full it was. A fundraising walk. A demonstration. Just a lot of everyone. Everywhere.
Seeing lines snaking toward a few buildings, we headed to the National Museum of the American Indian. There was no line at the entrance which made the choice for us, and a wonderful choice it was. We started off by watching a group of teenagers perform several traditional dances in the public performance area. This visually stunning building has four floors full of displays, artifacts, information, and history. I think we all found them very thought provoking and well-curated. A nice feature in the treatises exhibit were the plaques denoting the Indigenous (left side) and Colonial/US (right side) points of view about each treaty. That is, what did each side wish to gain or preserve and how did they act. The result of the treaty was displayed between them. You can probably guess how things generally turned out.
We enjoyed the relevant films, and the bookstore and cafeteria areas. I had the cookie made with only pre-European ingredients—no gluten, dairy, or soy—and it was excellent. 10/10 would eat again. Bob made a seed ball of regionally appropriate wildflowers at a temporary exhibit table. Again, hours passed by far quicker than we all realized.
I’m not including any photos of the on-going travesty happening to and near The People’s House because, frankly, it pisses me off. Don’t take my anger or concerns seriously? Read the history-rich and impeccably documented, Strongmen by Ruth Ben-Ghiat, if you want a better idea of where we are as a country currently and where we’re headed. She lays it out better than anyone. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We’re not special, and we aren’t immune. The USA sits on a fraying thread. November is coming up fast, my friends.
Moving on.
Bean Trailer clearly knew from experience that some hold-alls next to our sleepy heads were going to be needed. Jeff’s side is much neater than mine. Always. Both hold our e-readers, water bottles, keys, glasses, watches, and book lamps. Mine holds more: medicine, pens, visitor guides, hair ties, the lot. I’m consistently impressed by how much thought has gone into the small details of this trailer.
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Our summer hosting gig starts next week. Next week! We’re currently sitting in a water-logged bog DBA (doing business as) a campground in central New York state. It’s privately owned and operated (term used loosely), and we only chose it because the publicly owned campgrounds weren’t yet open for the season when we arrived. We’re the only non-seasonal (annual site rental) people here. We might as well have a second head and third arm apiece we’re so out of place. Another lesson learned.
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