Long Weekend to Pittsburgh, July 9-11

Friday, July 9, 2010.  Cathie and I each had the day off from work and Matthew was skipping his last day of basketball camp. We headed west after breakfast, cruising through the light traffic of Interstate 70.  Shortly after we had left Maryland, we were near the village of Ohiopyle, Pennsylvania.

Our first stop was Fallingwater, the Kaufman residence that quickly became an icon.  Frank Lloyd Wright designed it for the department store family, but it has been a public spectacle almost since it was finished.

The cafe and gift shop area on a hill above the residence is itself an elegant and refreshing spot.  When I toured Taliesin, FLW's school in Spring Green, I was struck by how comfortable the light and air felt inside all the rooms.  Fallingwater pulls off the same neat trick.  But I was mildly annoyed with Wright's attitude towards ceiling height.  In the cozy bedrooms, Fallingwater has varied ceiling heights.  That itself is good, but the low end of those ceilings is too tight for me- and I am not particularly tall.

Still, Cathie had been wanting to see Fallingwater for a long time and Matthew had wanted to eat the thick chocolate brownies in the cafe within a few minutes of spotting them.  And any FLW project is of interest to me.  So this stop fulfilled dreams for all of us.

We pushed on to Pittsburgh - until we hit a wall of traffic.  Our destination was the Hilton, right near the site of old Fort Pitt.  The rivers meet there and the Pirates new(ish) stadium is not far away.  As we sat in traffic for more than an hour, trying to get downtown, I concluded that there must be few ways into the core of the city.  The hills are steep near the river junction.  I suppose that made Fort PItt hard to attack.  I know it made the Hilton hard to reach.

We booked a room for the night because the Alliance for Community Media was having its annual meeting there and I was receiving a Hometown Video Festival award in the category of "Government Programs" portrayed by public access television.  My series of scripted game shows, using some humor to explain new Arlington County government programs, had been judged the best for 2009 from anywhere in the country.

We got to the awards dinner late, but the speechifying was still going on.  They showed a clip of my award-winning program (as they did for the 109 other winners), I was handed my plaque, I walked across the stage to applause, and I shook hands with a strange man.   Meaning a stranger.

That was fun, despite not being able to give an acceptance speech.  The plaque is on the mantel at home for all to see.

We blew town Saturday morning.  Driving east, we got all the way to Canoe Creek Lake, a state park near Altoona.  We stopped by the diner for an early lunch.  I had to help out the couple who flip the burgers and do everything else.  My task was to get the pickle jar open.

So it was an upbeat weekend for me.  Lauded for my television production on Friday night and then I assumed the role of Pickle Liberator on Saturday.  I could hardly imagine what Sunday held in store.

We got in nine holes of frisbee golf and then lazed in the swimming area.  The afternoon was getting deep when we decided to rent kayaks for a hour.  Cathie and Matthew took out a two-seater, while I had the single boat.  We did not go too far, but did try to explore a small feeder creek.  Both of our kayaks were grounded in shallows a few times, but Matthew was gallant and hopped up to pull Cathie off the sandbar.

Next up was minor league baseball, at the home of the Altoona Curve.  Great seats, pretty good game, and a constant series of goofy entertainments between innings.  The Curve nipped the Flying Squirrels from Richmond, 2-1.  Everyone at the park was friendly.  After the game, Matthew and about sixty other kids ran the bases along with Steamer, the biggest mascot.  I held back by the dugout, but got a warm greeting from Al Tuna, another mascot. 

Because I am an insane traveler, we piled into the car and drove south in the dark.  Our motel for Saturday night was in Chambersburg.  The whole point was to get up early and play nine holes of golf at Caledonia.  Which we did, choosing the short front nine.  Cathie and Matthew hit great shots at times, and took plenty of shots on each hole to really get acquainted with the course.

On the par 3 seventh hole, my tee shot landed behind the green, off to the left.  I chipped on and the ball rolled to the air space above the cup.  It was held up by a leaning golf stick.  But when I walked on the green towards the cup, my girth turned out to be enough so that I now was Earth Shaker.  The ball wriggled free and dropped in for a birdie.

On the eighth hole, Cathie also had an amazing chip shot, but it fell a few inches short of the hole.  Even the Earth Shaker could not help her in that situation.

After golf, we found a charming lunch spot - Dodie's.  Great sandwiches and ice cream.  Then we pressed on to Antietam National Battlefield.

Matthew and I were more interested in this stop, to be sure.  Cathie fell asleep watching the short video in the visitors center, but stayed awake for the ranger talk about the battle.   Then we started on the auto tour, stopping at the cornfield.

On the Antietam battlefield, the site of the bloodiest day in U.S. military history, the cornfield was a particularly bloody spot.  Both the Union and Confederacy moved troops through the cornfield and incurred heavy losses for that tactic.

We headed off on the cornfield walk.  It was hot and dusty.  And we quickly got lost.  And we complained about the heat and the confusion.  At that point, the three of us needed only uniforms to become very realistic Civil War reenactors.

After a while, we got our bearings, found the car, and took in more of the auto tour.  We walked down to the Burnsides Bridge.  Then we drove to a Maryland state park a short distance away.  We had just enough time to swim before they closed the beach.

The drive home from that point was short.  The three days of fun involved a lot of driving, but we managed to see a lot, too.

Day Trip In July

We got a jump start on the 2010 summer travels with a day trip to the Manassas Battlefield Park on July 7th.  As Civil War outings go, this is a doubleheader.  The first Battle of Bull Run was in 1861 and they decided to hold a rematch in 1862.

Cathie was at work all day and missed out on the fun, but Matthew was out at George Mason University for another day of basketball camp.  That is at least in the direction of Manassas, so I picked him up after camp and we headed to the park.

It was getting on in the afternoon as we finally sorted out our bearings and got close to the Visitors Center.  But traffic is so bad in these parts that I don't know why anyone wanted a second battle.  Or even how anyone got to the first battle on time.

At that first battle on July 21, 1861, Beauregard's Confederates were on the verge of losing to McDowell's Union forces.  But additional Confederates under the command of Johnston finally showed up and turned the tide.  Given the traffic we sat in, I can't fault Johnston for his tardiness.

The exhibits and historic buildings tend to close up at five o'clock, so our tour was pretty much limited to the first battle.  The temperature was right around one hundred as we headed off on the half mile or so of walking tour.  In that heat, it had a certain forced march feel to it.  And we were, indeed, the only fools tramping around in the parched grasses of Henry House Hill, past the decorative cannons and to the edge of the woods where Jackson's troops emerged to charge the Union positions.

That's the spot where the Union forces were advancing strongly in the first part of the battle, but Jackson's men held firm.  Someone said it was like a stonewall, and that's why no one today knows that Stonewall Jackson's first name was actually Thomas.

We got back in the car, amped the AC, and took in a few of the driving tour stops.  That got us into the terrain of Second Bull Run, including the ground (Hazel Plain) where Longstreet's troops were held up by stubbon Ohio regiments.  But our tour was incomplete, putting aside a full account of the second battle for another time.

Our excursion moved on from history to recreation.  Matthew and I played nine holes of golf at Oak Marr, a nice little par-3 course in Oakton.  Although it was nearly seven o'clock when we teed off on the first hole, the temperature had still not dropped much below one hundred degrees.

And, as at Manassas, we were the only fools tramping around the dry grasses of Oak Marr's fairways and the firm turf of its greens.

I popped two ice cubes into my golf hat and stayed relatively cool for the round.  This is a trick I learned twenty years ago on a golf course, but have only started to use it this summer.

Matthew was eager to get in on the chill, so he put a couple of ice cubes in his hat.  No benefit.  He kept having to take off his hat and swat at the gnats that seemed delighted to find golfers out in the heat.  He would then catch the cubes and put them back in the hat.

After about three holes, he ditched the ice.  We realized his thick head of hair was making ice in the hat a moot point.

I, on the other hand, did not have that disadvantage.

Oak Marr is a nice little course.  I shot nine holes below my age, while Matthew scored something below the temperature.  Unfortunately, the pool at the rec center at the course had already closed when we walked off the ninth green.