Shenandoah Valley

I left Washington, DC yesterday morning intending to visit Shenandoah National Park. Thirty miles outside of DC, I armed myself with a cup of coffee and stopped at Manassas National Battlefield Park where I walked the artillery lines of the first battle of the Civil War.

It was at the Battle of Manassas, also known as Bull Run, that the South won an unexpected victory and quashed the notion that the war would be over quickly. It's also where General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson won his nickname. With his dying breaths, Confederate commander Barnard Bee gave the rallying command: "Form, form, there stands Jackson like a stone wall."

The only structure besides the visitor center on the tract is the Henry House. It's here where Judith Henry was killed by an artillery explosion when she refused to evacuate. Another casualty of the battle was upstate New York Congressman Alfred Ely. He came as a spectator but was captured in the confusion of the Union retreat and placed in Confederate prison for five months.

Continuing southwest through Virginia I soon found myself approaching the Blue Ridge Mountains. Sadly, when I reached the Thornton Gap Entrance to Shenandoah National Park I was turned away. Icy conditions had forced the NPS to close all 105 miles of Skyline Drive. I technically entered the park, but it hardly counts as my first national park of the new year.

I wanted to make the best of my location so I turned towards Luray Caverns. The fourth largest cave in the United States, Luray is a maze of melting, dripping, sprouting rock. 200 feet deep in the earth, Luray features some of the most astounding underground structures I'd ever seen. Mirrory reflecting pools, delicate rock curtains, a creased 40-foot monolith, a rock organ that works by pinging stalactites formed to precisely the right note; all wonders to behold.

Note quite sure where my journey would lead next I drove to Charlottesville in central Virginia for the night. A bit of googling yielded my destination for Saturday: Jefferson Pools in Warm Springs, Virginia. Operated by a nearby hotel resort, the mineral waters are notable for their historic and natural significance. An octagonal structure on the grounds is the oldest spa in the United States. In 1818, Thomas Jefferson spent three weeks soaking in its waters.

I enjoyed both the drive to the springs through the Blue Ridge Mountains and the 98 degree water once I arrived. The rickety, eight-sided, open-roofed bathhouse is an undiscovered American treasure, according to a regular I overheard. Submerged in the steamy springs bubbling up from below and staring at the clumsily blocked sky, one would have a hard time disagreeing.