Work continues on the construction of the 55-mile Virginia Capital Trail, which will eventually connect all three of Virginia’s historical capitals — Richmond, Williamsburg and Jamestown. The eight-mile Charles City Courthouse section of the path is complete and offers a great time in the country for cyclists.

This phase of the trail – one of nine — parallels historic Route 5, designated by the Department of Transportation as 
a scenic area. Along this stretch of Route 5 are the birthplaces of two U.S. Presidents, three churches, and several picturesque private farms.

Cyclists may park their vehicles either at the Charles City Courthouse complex or the newly constructed rest area at Little Herring Creek. From either point, the trail offers safe cycling off the main road on a separate paved surface. If you park your vehicle at the 
courthouse complex, you’ll find public rest
rooms, a description of the first courthouse
 that dates from the 1730s, and the
 Courthouse Grille, which is housed in the
 old general store that dates from 1872.

The old courthouse building is made of 
brick and in its original state, was almost 
identical to the old courthouse in Hanover
County. The old and new courthouses are 
off Route 5 on SR 644 and motorists simply 
follow the signs to the complex and park 
in the ample lot.

After checking the air pressure in your 
tires, you’re ready to proceed west for the eight-mile ride. The trail actually starts once you pass by the Post Office and Memorial United Methodist Church, which you’ll see on your left. The first historic site at this point of the trail is the privately owned Greenway Farm. The house was built around 1776 by John Tyler, who served as Governor of Virginia from 1808 to 1811. His son, also named John, became Governor of Virginia and was later elected Vice President during the 1840 Presidential race along with Presidential candidate William Henry Harrison.

The next few miles of the trail pass farms and wooded areas. The bridges on this stretch have been constructed over waterways and have safety rails included. After passing through one of the wooded areas a few miles west of Greenway, the cyclist comes to a clearing then the driveway of Evelynton.

This estate was once part of the huge Westover plantation. In 1847 the Ruffin family took possession of the place. Edmund Ruffin has been described as the Father of American Agronomy. As with most farms in Charles City County, Evelynton was invaded by Federal forces during the Civil War. The main house was burned at that time. The present structure was built in 1937 by Ruffin’s great-grandson and designed by architect Duncan Lee.

Close by Evelynton is Westover Church. As with Evelynton, the tract of land on which the church stands was once part of the vast Westover plantation. This classic brick structure dates from the 1730s and is surrounded by ancient boxwood and mature trees. After the American Revolution and the disestablishment of the Church of England, Westover Church was abandoned by 1803. It was used as a
barn for thirty years before it was revived
as an Episcopal Church. Legend says
that the first building originally stood next
to the Westover house. The mistress of
Westover, Mrs. Byrd, had a new building
constructed on the present site as a
matter of survival. Southern hospitality
dictated that the mistress of the property
on which the church stood, required her
to serve Sunday supper to the
parishioners after services. This practice
stretched Mrs. Byrd’s energies and
resources too much, so she had the
church relocated.

During the Civil War, Westover Church was used as a stable by Federal officers. Damage from that time was repaired and services resumed in 1867 but without several pieces of communion silver, which disappeared during the Federal occupancy. A descendant of the soldier who took the pieces returned them to the church in the 20th Century, and they are used to this day.

Just west of the church is mile marker 27. There will be more of these as construction of the trail continues.

Further west along Route 5, the trail goes off to the left down an embankment to Little Herring Creek. Here VDOT has built a rest area with parking and picnic facilities. For those cyclists who would rather begin the Charles City Courthouse phase at this point and ride east, this is the place to begin. There are no rest room facilities here.

The turnoff at Little Herring Creek also marks the entrances to both Berkeley and Westover Plantations. The Harrison family built the main house at Berkeley in 1726. Benjamin Harrison V served as a member of the Continental Congress and signed the Declaration of Independence. His son, William Henry, was born here in 1772 and was elected President of the US in 1840 with John Tyler as his running mate. Harrison was the first President to die in office after only a month as a result of catching pneumonia on his inauguration day.

Westover was the seat of the Byrd family of Virginia. William Byrd II gave the city of Richmond its name. The main house is believed to have been built around 1750. It is privately owned.

The trail continues past this point one more
mile to Kimages Road. Cyclists will pass 
Edgewood Plantation, a local bed and breakfast that 
has an interesting history. In the spring of 1862, the famous Confederate cavalry general J.E.B.
Stuart circled the Federal Army to determine what
 positions they held. General Stuart and his officers 
stopped for a time at Edgewood. Legend has it one
 of the owner’s daughters swooned when she saw 
the general ride up the driveway. Her ghost is
 sometimes seen in one of the second floor
 windows.

When you return to the
 courthouse, do consider stopping by
the Courthouse Grille. The food and
 service are excellent and have
 received positive reviews in the 
Richmond press. Spend a few 
moments looking over the old general
 store ledgers which are on display 
near the front door.

So plan a bike trip out this way. The trail is separate
 from Route 5, and is a safe and
 enjoyable outing for families.

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It’s an uncommon occurrence for the north branch of Rattlesnake Creek to freeze over. Only a narrow pass between vertical banks of earth allows the water of this short auxiliary to join the main artery, and queued-up on the upstream side of the bottleneck there loiters a long, shallow pool of earth-soup 10 feet or so across waiting patiently for gravity to siphon it through the pass and into the larger movement towards the James.  

On rare occasions, like during the most recent polar vortex, the restricted dimension of the outflow passage isn’t the only impediment to flow. The water in this pool is just calm enough that when the air temperature remains below 32 degrees for an extended period of time, the normally promiscuous H2O molecules hanging out here begin to confine themselves to specific partners. Forming strong hydrogen bonds with their nearest molecular neighbors, they become locked in the mathematically precise positions of a hexagonal lattice. When a deep and extended cold settles on the Rattlesnake basin behind my house, the upper surface of the north branch waiting pool can no longer join greater movements towards the sea.  It has crystallized into ice.

The desire to see the Rattlesnake in this rare, partially immobilized state is a great excuse for a winter walk in the Lowland. My daughter Brooke notices right away that last night’s snowfall was very delicately placed on the earth, and the sub-freezing temperatures have allowed the tiny ice crystals to maintain their individuality even in the two-inch-high ground pileup.  She drops to the ground for an intimate look, feel and taste of winter’s white powder. Fourteen-year earth veteran Anna, desiring to display her maturity at times now, momentarily pretends aloofness before relapsing into the more basic, youthful desire. Ultimately she also drops to her knees to grope and taste this crystallized manna from the sky.

Though successfully maintaining aloofness in a standing position nearby, I do become intensely self-aware, or self-conscious. Intensely “self-as-human” –conscious, that is. Of the many gifts bestowed on me by the Richmond outdoors and this small patch of unspoiled nature behind my house. This special form of self-consciousness is the greatest.

I’ll explain. It’s always a fair assumption that we humans are the most fabulous creatures on earth. Our precise technology and our ability to manipulate earth’s bounty to suit our purposes will never cease to leave me in a head-shaking state of astonishment. But when we gather into herds, or societies and cities, our natural and individual brilliance can at times be diminished. One can find himself reduced to a tiny element of a human swarm, pulled and coerced by the colossal socio-economic, cultural and political forces that animate that swarm. One finds himself pulled along either willfully or otherwise, and the lustrous core of the singular human’s free spirit can and must be somewhat subdued, even if only for self-preservation. It’s either fit in or be overrun…and maybe trampled.

Values, codes of conduct, even dreams or aspirations can be externally imposed. We often find ourselves pretending and performing as our free spirits assume their positions in the larger lattice of imposed social structures. And as one tiny, simple building block of a much larger complex, the free human spirit may to some degree loose mobility, or become frozen. When I begin to feel frozen, or begin to doubt the direction and sway of the swarm, I doubt as well that earlier assumption about the grandeur of humanity. In this partially frozen state, I wonder, “Is it privilege or curse to be human?”

Since my daughters are learning, or at least trying to understand, how they fit in with our swarm, in society they often pretend and constrain themselves like we do. They freeze up a bit. But it’s when they are surrounded by only uncritical trees and rocks, or by free-flowing water, or by the polished opaque dance floor of a frozen creek, or even by the frigid air of a deep winter day of 2014, it’s when surrounded by nature that my young ladies let the other part of their spirit out to play. That free one.

And when the free human spirit emerges in nature, that other world of sky, trees, water and rocks, that world of purely sensual data, biological survival, and cause and effect, all of that world begins to assume a background position.  It loses a dimension. The free spirit emerges then like a three-dimensional presence dancing on the two-dimensional surface of everything else there is in nature. Twirling and sliding on creek ice, the free human spirit disturbs the natural monotony, where life is so businesslike, repetitive, competitive, repetitive, competitive.  .  .  All those other life forms and chunks of matter around me at this frozen moment are holding on to their existence by the skin of their chattering teeth, while these free little human spirits lift themselves above earthly nature in carefree play.  They become luminous.  As much as I love that natural world, when I find it diminished or moved to the background by other presences, those presences must be quite wonderful. They are. We are.

This is the therapy I seek, and why I go outside. Because it is primarily when surrounded by nature or watching my daughters in nature that I am made acutely conscious of how physically and spiritually unique we are in relation to our surroundings. Acutely self-as-unique-human conscious. Outside I become again convinced that we humans have been selected, whether by nature herself or by Super Nature, for a special role on this earth that involves something far more significant than swarming and consuming. It’s just up to us to figure out how to use our gifts.  

In nature, separated from the swarm, unfrozen and free-flowing, I believe again in the significance and the wonder of being human.

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My first hands-on experience with the Better Block project came this last November in Norfolk. I had heard about Team Better Block through the grapevine, and had even seen Jason Roberts – one of the founding partners – speak at a conference about a year ago. I still didn’t really know what it meant to “build a better block,” so I drove down to Norfolk to check it out first-hand.

Within minutes of arriving at their Better Block project site on a sunny afternoon, I was put to work as a volunteer. Three hours later, I had built a shiny new crosswalk where one had not existed before – and I built it out of a dozen rolls of white duct tape.

About an hour later, what had been a fairly desolate and neglected stretch of W. 35th Street was transformed into a bustling businesses district for that Friday night and into the next Saturday afternoon. People were flocking there on foot and by bike to purchase food and merchandise from dozens of “pop-up” shops – restaurants and stores that popped up about as quickly as the crosswalk I had build out of duct tape.

Team Better Block is lead by a couple of guys – Jason Roberts and Andrew Howard – out of Dallas, Texas, who decided to create a movement to improve our public spaces without dealing with zoning ordinances, traffic engineering regulations, or other typical bureaucratic roadblocks. The Better Block project is designed to cut through that red tape and transform – albeit temporarily – a city block into a walkable, bikeable, vibrant place for people to gather, shop, eat, and socialize. While these demonstrations are gone after a weekend, there is a lasting focus on what can be made permanent in the short term to make the block more livable and attractive to businesses, residents, and developers.

Richmond’s first Better Block project is coming to North Church Hill on June 13-14 of this year. An initial partnership has formed between the Sports Backers, Bon Secours, the City of Richmond, Groundwork RVA, Storefront for Community Design, Partnership for Smarter Growth, and about a dozen community leaders to bring this experience to N 25th St between P Street and R Street. This partnership continues to grow, and any and all Church Hill businesses, residents, and organizations are encouraged to play a role in making this a success.

The first kick-off event in the several-month process of planning the North Church Hill Better Block project is Wednesday, March 12. Team Better Block will guide the community on a walk-through of the project area, starting at the corner of N. 25th Street and Venable Street at 6 p.m. The walk will be followed by a presentation and discussion at the Robinson Theater (2903 Q St) at 7:15 PM.

People who are interested in learning more or participating in the North Church Hill Better Block project can visit the Richmond Better Block webpage and click “volunteer” to sign up, RSVP for the March 12 Community Walk + Talk on Facebook, or email me (Max Hepp-Buchanan) directly. It’s going to take a whole community to pull this off, and everyone is invited to participate. We’re looking forward to building a Better Block in Richmond this summer!

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Old Gun Road twists and turns on a Chesterfield County hillside high over the James River. It is a picturesque setting. Estate homes and deep, forested creeks line the road as it meanders along a route that connects Robious Road on the south with Cherokee Road in the James River valley on the north. It is especially beautiful in the winter when puffy ice crystals cling to the crooked limbs of the ancient oak trees. Still, the rush-hour traffic shows little deference as it swiftly darts over the serpentine bends of the old lane.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I thought.  I limped across the fresh snow in a clumsy orthopedic boot while the morning traffic whizzed by. I decided it was worth dodging cars on slippery Old Gun Road if I could just get one good photo of historic ruins crested with frozen powder. Fortunately, another ghost of Richmond’s war-time past assented to a few good shots. The timing could not have been better, two hours later, the snow had melted. A glimpse of history was recorded.

This is the second of a two-part series about the arsenals and foundries of Westham and Bellona. [Editors note]  The first part was the most read article in the history of RichmondOutside.com. Click here to read it.

Bellona

Bellona, like its counterparts at Westham, started as a supplier of ordinance when the United States fought to assert its independence and continued to make canons for the Confederacy when Virginia experimented with secession. Bellona, however, did not end with a dramatic ransacking like the first foundry at Westham. It simply stopped at the end of the Civil War. But during its existence, Bellona was a major source of weaponry, second only to the famed Tredegar Iron Works, and it narrowly escaped destruction as federal forces sought to cut off the Confederacy’s remote but prolific supplier in Chesterfield County.

“Bellona,” the Roman Goddess of War, is often pictured wearing a helmet and holding a spear and blood-red torch. She was renowned for inspiring men to violence and favoring the nation whose priests would honor her by mutilating their own bodies and collecting the blood to drink or submit as an offering. It is doubtful Major John Clarke envisioned cups of sanguine liquid when he started the Bellona Foundry on the south bank of the James River in 1814. His goal was to create arms for the defense of United States. The new nation was again at war with the motherland – England.

The United States, enraged over perceived slights on American sovereignty and very real attacks on American ships by the British navy, declared war on the United Kingdom in June of 1812. Entrepreneurs like Major Clarke scrambled to secure federal contracts to produce munitions for the war effort. Clarke and his partner William Wirt signed an agreement with the U.S. army to create a foundry. Within a year the new industry at Bellona began turning out canons, ball and muskets. The foundry was remote, deep in the western frontier of Chesterfield County. Clarke built a private road in order to transport his wares to the docks at Manchester. The “Gun Road” as he called it, changed names several times over the centuries – its longest remaining sections, Huguenot Road and Forest Hill Avenue, are artifacts of the War of 1812.

Production was prolific. Clarke’s foundry produced 300 tons of cannon for deployment against the British. Clarke, an experienced arms maker, oversaw the manufacturing and testing of cannon himself. One of his favorite means of quality control was to test fire canon down the James River. Workers on land were protected from potential accidents by a high earthen berm along the shore. Typical 1812 guns had a range between 800 and 1,000 yards. A few heavier pieces might fire twice that distance. A rough calculation suggests that most of Clarke’s projectiles landed in the James River near the present-day Virginia Power Boat Association club house.

Bolstered by the success of his foundry during the war years, Clarke was able to convince the United States Government to establish an arsenal on his property in 1817. It was around this time that the foundry and arsenal together would become known as “Bellona.”  Its remote location in western Chesterfield made it relatively secure from foreign attack (an advantage demonstrated in the War of 1812) and placed it near the rich Midlothian coal fields on which Clarke relied to fuel his furnaces.

Business boomed. The complex included the foundry buildings on the east end and the arsenal campus to the west and north. The arsenal included the main three-story storehouse, a one-story dormitory for enlisted men, separate officer’s quarters, and workshops. These were arranged in a quadrangle and surrounded by stone walls. Outside this complex was a powder magazine made of stone walls five feet thick and further fortified with additional walls and earth encircling it – to protect those outside the magazine from accidental explosion.

Work progressed until the 1830s when the U.S. War Department suddenly decided to close Belona and move operations to Fort Monroe in Hampton Roads. The orders cited concerns over Bellona’s remote location and its close proximity to large numbers of slaves who worked at the Midlothian coal mines. There was a constant fear of slave rebellion. That fear was not unfounded, Nat Turner’s uprising in 1831 resulted in the deaths of 57 whites in Southampton County.  Bellona was all but shuttered after the arsenal moved.  Over the next few decades it saw a variety of owners and uses, including a brief stint as a silkworm farm.

It is unclear when Dr. Junius Archer purchased Bellona. Various texts disagree on the date. It is also unclear when he renewed production at the old foundry created by his uncle, Major Clarke. But by March of 1861, Archer had made 50 massive Columbiad cannons for the U.S. Army. But, before the guns were delivered, Virginia seceded from the Union and within a few months the confiscated guns were defending the Confederacy. War had come back to Richmond.

Like his uncle before him, Archer wasted no time in capitalizing on the war effort. Production at Bellona was restored to full capacity within months. It built a variety of munitions but is probably best known for the Columbiad guns used by the Confederates to defend coastal areas, including the James River. At the Battle of Drewry’s Bluff in 1862, several Bellona Columbiads (some capable of hurling 128-pound shells over two miles downriver) hammered the federal navy as it attempted to steam up the James. The U.S.S. Galena alone suffered 45 hits. Her crew lost 14 sailors. Meanwhile Bellona kept turning out guns miles away, safely tucked in the Chesterfield countryside.

Federal armies sought to eliminate Bellona. Its remote location made it difficult to reach, but some felt that its isolation would make it easy to overtake. In the spring of 1864, Colonel Ulric Dahlgren aimed to destroy Bellona as he attempted to invade Richmond. There was only one obstacle in his way – the James River.

After observing many failed attempts to take Richmond from the east and north, Dahlgren believed he could enter Richmond from the west and south, He gave some of his men orders to cross the James River from Goochland County at Dover Mills. From there they would attack Bellona, follow the river downstream, cross it again at Belle Isle, release the federal prisoners there, rejoin the rest of the group and ransack Richmond. It was an ambitious plan.

In order to get to Dover Mills, Colonel Dahlgren relied on the guidance of runaway slave named Martin Robinson. Robinson agreed to guide the cavalry to a ford where some of them would cross the river and then blaze a destructive path along the south side en-route to Richmond. The agreement made clear that Robinson would be executed if he was found guilty of misleading the men.  The cavalry rode in the rain for two nights to Dover Mills. When they arrived they were very surprised to find that there was no ford. The river was deep and swift. They could not cross. Lieutenant Bartley of the United States Signal Corps witnessed the event and wondered why Robinson would mislead Dahlgren when his own life was on the line.

Bartley described the result of the perceived treachery: “The Colonel then told him he would have to carry out his part of the contract, to which the guide assented, and admitted that was the agreement and made no objection to his execution. He went along to the tree without any force and submitted to his fate without a murmur. “

Dahlgren left Robinson’s body hanging in the tree and pushed on to Richmond without crossing the river to the Bellona side. The Colonel was killed by a Confederate ambush after failing to capture the city. After the war, local witnesses stated that winter rains had swollen the James River – inundating the ford that is passable most of the year. Bellona was spared by a flood. Martin Robinson was betrayed by it.

At the end of the war, Virginia and all rebel states were placed under military control. Bellona was simply shut down. Over the years many of its buildings were dismantled and materials were used elsewhere. Much of the stone from Bellona was used in the construction of Harvietown, a Richmond suburb just east of Byrd Park. A few arsenal and foundry buildings still stand today, visible from a wayside on Old Gun Road. There is also a canon and mold at the wayside. They were reportedly recovered from the river in 1962 by Merle Luck, then-owner of the Bellona property. A stone plaque states the artifacts were tossed in the river by Colonel Dahlgren.  It is unclear exactly where the gun and mold were recovered. Dahlgren never made it to the south side of the James.

Mister Luck renovated some of the remaining arsenal buildings into residences. They are still surrounded by the original stone walls. Just to the east, the remains of the powder magazine survive without a roof. The Bellona grounds slope beautifully to the James River. Open fields flanked by creeks and modern manses show little trace of the industry that once shook the ground. The Bellona Arsenal property is private. Only the wayside on Old Gun Road is open to the public.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This was a long series of articles. But it is important to record events that placed central Virginia at the crux of struggles for unity and independence. Local industries crafted metal for the fight. Three wars shaped the local landscape and natural environment. Richmond and its environs are hallowed ground – sanctified by the sacrifices of fallen warriors. Whether they were black or white, whether they were from England or the North or South, each person who died here, or killed in faraway places by weapons made here, deserve reverence. Westham and Bellona are just two examples of the war machines that placed Richmond and Virginia in the middle of the struggle for a free America. There are many other local sites that played a role too. More to come…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would like to thank a number of local history experts for their help on these articles. Dr. Bill Trout – Virginia Canals and Navigations Society; Mike Gorman – Richmond National Battlefield Park; Scott Williams – Chesterfield County Historical Society  

Further Reading: “Chesterfield County: Early Architecture and Historic Sites” by Jeffery M. O’Dell; “Chesterfield: An Old Virginia County” by Francis Earle Lutz; “Falls of the James Atlas” by W.E. Trout

 

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How do you write about a life-changing journey so that it makes sense to someone else? I struggle immensely with doing so, which in the end is how I know it truly is a life-changing journey. If my taking on hiking for 204 Virginia fallen soldiers was just about hiking, it would be easy to describe the how and why. However, as I plan my 100th tribute I know in my heart and soul this journey is now about so much more than hiking. It’s about saying thank you, recognizing the loss to our country and promising to always remember the sacrifices.

My hiking for Virginia’s fallen heroes started out purely by accident. I was searching the Internet for an op-ed published in the Washington Post and was mistakenly taken to the Washington Post Faces of the Fallen page. Instead of returning to my original search, I sat staring at the faces of American heroes who made the ultimate sacrifice in Iraq and Afghanistan while serving in Operation Iraqi Freedom, Operation New Dawn and Operation Enduring Freedom. I could not move. All I could think of was here are the faces of 6750 Americans that held hopes and dreams, and had families, friends, and loved ones waiting for them to return home safely. But they did not return home safely. I cannot even begin to comprehend the depth of sorrow experienced with that kind of loss. After clicking on my home state of Virginia I learned that 204 brave Virginians made the ultimate sacrifice and for reasons I may never know or understand, from that moment on my life has not been the same.

I have been asked many times why I am hiking for Virginia fallen heroes. The answer is not a noble one and certainly does not rise to the level of respect our fallen heroes deserve. The honest truth is I had no idea 204 Virginians made the ultimate sacrifice in Afghanistan and Iraq after doing the job our country asked them to do. I believe as an American, a military spouse, and certainly as a Virginian, I should have known. I was so busy in my everyday life that I failed to remember that Americans are in harm’s way every day in far away places. And I certainly failed to say thank you to those who sacrificed it all whether the ultimate sacrifice or those returning with lasting physical and psychological injuries. Hiking For Virginia Fallen Heroes is my way of saying thank you and that I will never forget their service.

Hiking was a logical choice for me as a tribute because I love the outdoors and frankly have never made the time to really see our State. At 55 years of age, some of the hikes, especially those on the Appalachian Trail continue to challenge me. My longest and by far hardest hike to date was the Three Ridges Trail along the AT in the George Washington National Forest. I did Tributes that day for Staff Sgt. Christopher Cabacoy from Virginia Beach, Staff Sgt. James Newman from Richmond, Spec. Moranne McBeth from Fredericksburg, and Pfc. Benjamin Park from Fairfax Station, all of which were memorable. The weather was less than optimal, fog and rain showers plagued the hike. I also suffered through painful blisters, a novice mistake that I will never make again.

Another novice hiking mistake I made was tackling two rough hikes in the same day. Because I have limited opportunities to get to the AT, I try to make the most of them when I am there. Last summer I hiked both the Crabtree Falls Trail for Lance Cpl. Cody Childers from Chesapeake and Pfc. Tramaine Billingsly from Portsmouth, and the Spy Rock Trail for Chief Warrant Officer Dwayne Moore of Williamsburg, both hikes are located in the George Washington National Forest. While working my way up Crabtree Falls Trail, I knew I was tired from hiking Spy Rock Trail just hours before. I had reached my limit and was close to believing I could not take another step.  I stopped to rest my burning legs and catch my breath when tears filled my eyes as I knew I was letting the heroes down that I was hiking for. I was hiking for 19 year old Lance Cpl. Cody Childers from Chesapeake. I was exhausted and had nothing left. I cannot explain what happened next, and won’t blame you if you don’t believe me, however I felt a sudden surge in my body and it was as if someone had taken my legs and was pushing them, and I know you skeptics are out there and what you are thinking. The truth is it did happen and I continued on to finish the trail and complete Lance Cpl. Childers’ Tribute. I like to think it was Lance Cpl. Childers who helped me that day. I eventually met Lance Cpl. Childers’ mother and of course like me, she was convinced it was her “Cody” who offered the extra encouragement.

To date my favorite two completed hikes are Bull Run in Bull Run Regional Park and Flat Top, one of the two “Peaks of Otter” along the Blue Ridge Trail.  Each hike resulted in fitting Tributes for Lance Cpl. Naill Cortisears from Arlington and Spec. Douglas Green from Sterling.  Bull Run was a tough trail with a steep climb, however the view was worth every second. I hit the lottery the day I hiked Flat Top. The day yielded clear blue skies and a warm summer breeze. It was spectacular and made the hike memorable for me. As a novice hiker I have learned that much like the labor pains of childbirth, the pain involved in a steep climb coupled with altitude gains are all but forgotten when the reward is a breathtaking view of our beautiful state.

I have found several well-kept secrets during my hiking journeys. The George Washington Birthplace National Monument Trail in Colonial Beach came as quite a surprise. It is majestic and serene and made for a perfect tribute for Staff Sgt. Jesse Clowers from Herndon. In addition, Wildcat Mountain Trail in Northern Virginia is truly a hidden treasure. I picked this hike to honor Cpl. Joshua Stricklen from Virginia Beach and Maj. Joseph T. McCloud from Alexandria. The soldiers were traveling in the same helicopter when it went down, therefore I wanted to honor them together. I later learned from Cpl. Stricklen’s mother, the two soldiers were good friends.

I have completed 100 tributes on 90 plus different Virginia trails with 104 left to complete.  When I complete the final Tribute, my journey will end. I will have paid tribute and thanked Virginia’s fallen heroes, which initially was all I expected to do. The unexpected gift has been making so may friends along the way and experiencing the beauty and wonder in our great state.

How or why I landed on that page months ago will remain a mystery to me. You can draw your own conclusions as to how I started on this journey: divine intervention, or an accidental landing on an Internet site that led to an instantaneous idea that grew into a year long journey. I’m pretty sure I know the answer. Either way, the journey amazes me and humbles me on a regular basis. It truly is my honor and now passion to make this humble offering of thanks to our heroes. I continue to hike on.

You can join the journey at Hiking For Virginia Fallen Heroes on Facebook at www.facebook.comhikingforVAfallenheroes.com

 

 

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I placed my hands on the rock not knowing that the next thirty feet would introduce me to a world where dirtbags are kings. The first clip, although seven feet off the ground, still had my arms shaking. In Richmond, even the shortest gains can have a lasting effect. This, my first lead climb, was no exception. It was early August 2012, and as the second bolt approached my hands turned chalk into paste. Clenching and focused, I slid the rope through the draw. The snapping gate was assuring yet I couldn’t rationalize what I was doing leaving Earth.

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On a sunny, cold Saturday morning in late November, Tyler Potterfield gathered a group of young urban policy and planning professionals and set out on a guided bike tour of his opus, the Richmond Riverfront Plan. We were standing on the Brown’s Island “bridge to nowhere” when Mr. Potterfield described his vision of what will soon become the Brown’s Island Dam Walk. I liked what I heard.

Picture, if you will, crossing the James River on foot or by bike in the comforting embrace of a protected bridge that you don’t have to share with swarms of speeding cars and trucks. Imagine walking a direct line from the north bank to the south, just mere feet above the rushing James. There is no pressure to hurry across and no need to be hyper-vigilant as you make your way. In fact, there are several spots along the span of the Dam Walk that invite you to stop and stare out over the water, and just be there.

That is what crossing the James River on the Brown’s Island Dam Walk will be like.

Tyler Potterfield, a thoughtful and devoted urban planner with the City of Richmond is about to leave his legacy on the city’s riverfront. The Brown’s Island Dam Walk is a top-priority project identified in the Riverfront Plan, adopted by City Council in November of 2012.

Just over $4 million has been allocated by City Council for the Dam Walk and some terracing and trail work on nearby Chapel Island (also a top priority in the Riverfront Plan). The 1,500-foot Dam Walk is proposed to complete the “bridge to nowhere” on Brown’s Island and provide a dedicated connection for bicyclists and pedestrians across the James to a landing adjacent to the Manchester climbing wall on the south bank.

The general Richmond community was scheduled to get a full briefing on the Dam Walk at Tuesday’s public forum at the Virginia War Memorial. Unfortunately, a late-arriving but nasty winter storm thwarted those plans, and the meeting was postponed. At this community meeting, Mr. Potterfield and the consultants would have presented this project to the public in full and asked for feedback. The meeting will be rescheduled but a new date and time have not yet been announced. Schematics of the Dam Walk can be viewed on the City’s Riverfront Plan webpage.

Some have said – and more will say – that the proposed paved trail configuration at the southern landing of the Dam Walk is too circuitous. And that’s fine, because it is circuitous. But Mr. Potterfield and his team are committed to keeping the slopes manageable for all potential river-crossers, not just the ones who can walk, bike, or jog steep grades, and that requires some winding of the path.

It’s also important to remember that this is not just any river crossing. Walking or biking across the Dam Walk will be nothing like crossing the Manchester or Mayo Bridge. It is not meant to be the most efficient route in every way possible. In fact, the Dam Walk is only the first step in opening an important experience – the “Richmond Riverfront experience” to so many more of our residents and visitors. People who commute by bike or on foot will at long last have a safe, comfortable, and direct crossing of the James. And families with young children or elderly relatives will get to experience many aspects the river up close and personal without trepidation.

I know what some of you are thinking. Don’t worry – the riverfront will still maintain its wild, adventurous, and sometimes dangerous side for those who tread off the beaten path to seek the thrills the James has to offer. But for so many more, the river is about to become more than a landmark – it’s going to become an attraction.

For more information about the project, visit the City’s webpage. To be informed of opportunities to support the Dam Walk and other bicycle and pedestrian projects, sign up for Bike Walk RVA email updates.

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