Tag: Virginia

Categories
Blogging Driving Geography Military Travel

Arlington National Cemetery

Welcome back to #TravelThursday. It’s Part 3 of my 6-part (possibly 7-part) blog series on my recent trip to and from Northern Virginia and Washington D.C. It was my first trip back to the area in exactly a decade (to the date).

It’s Day 2 of our family trip – Friday July 25TH 2025. We all piled in to the big SUV (Ford Explorer), and we headed to Arlington National Cemetery. Google Maps took us on a weird route there from West Falls Church Virginia. Since we were driving with the flow of the morning rush hour – we trusted Google to get us there in the fastest way possible. Google actually guided us across the historic 102-year-old Francis Scott Key Bridge (U.S. 29) into Northwest Washington D.C. We traversed along several blocks of M Street starting at 35TH Street. I remember when our Dad used to work on M Street back in the 1970s at 2020 (address). He would occasionally take me to work with him in the summertime or whenever school was out. His office building is still there today.

We soon crossed over the Potomac River back into Virginia via the historic 93-year-old Arlington Memorial Bridge straight into the Cemetery entrance. Our main reason to be there (and the main reason for this entire trip) was to place our Mom’s urn next to our Dad’s urn inside the columbarium. Our Dad – a Vietnam Veteran – served in the USAF from 1963 to 1969. He met his future wife in the Philippines at Clark Air Base. They got married in 1966, and I was born 13½ months later here stateside. Our Dad passed away in 2010. Our Mom passed away a few months ago.

We arrived about 3 hours before the urn placement time, so we parked in the parking garage, and we visited the Welcome Center which serves as a very nice museum with a small gift shop and restrooms, and you can also book guided tours around the exterior grounds. You can easily spend an hour or more there at the Welcome Center checking out all of the exhibits.

We walked outside, and we toured the grounds on our own – heading 0.7 miles uphill much of the way – to the Tomb Of The Unknown Soldier. We watched the 1030 “Changing Of The Guard”. It was quite the solemn experience to see it up close. I had never seen it before – LIVE or online.

We walked downhill back to the Welcome Center to hang out for a little while longer. Of course – being a Museum Director – I was taking mental notes everywhere I looked and visualizing new ideas for my small historical museum back home in Sebring Florida.

We headed to the Administration Building inside the restricted area of the cemetery, and we were met by our assigned Counselor who explained the process to us. She eventually led us by vehicle to the columbarium and the niche containing our Dad’s urn. The niche was open when we arrived. My brother placed our Mom’s urn in the niche, and they were together again after 15 years.

This was my very first time at Arlington National Cemetery – at age 58. I never went there as a kid growing up in the Washington D.C. area from age 2 to 18. My brother and sister-in-law went there previously for the formal military funeral honors that culminated in our Dad’s urn being placed in the niche at the columbarium. My brother and I discussed visiting our parents again – maybe next year on a future visit to the area. We have a lifetime vehicle pass to visit.

After the urn placement we headed back onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway – up to Fairfax County – and into McLean – where our parents moved us in November 1980.

I played an incredible game of cornhole, and then I followed that up with one of the best games of 18 rounds of miniature golf in my lifetime. Read all about it – next #TravelThursday. Let’s keep traveling together.

All rights reserved (c) 2025 Christopher M. Day, CountUp

Categories
1990s Blogging Career Driving Geography Home Military Travel Weather

Post Hurricane Andrew

Welcome back to #TravelThursday. 31 years ago this morning on August 24TH 1992 Hurricane Andrew struck Homestead Florida, and within just a couple of hours its winds caused catastrophic destruction across the region. It was unlike anything I had ever lived through before or since. And that’s all I’ll say about it. I’m actually glad that I’m not in Homestead today, as on this day every year it’s what’s on everyone’s mind – that night / morning that lives were changed forever. I don’t like to talk about it. I don’t like to write about it. So I won’t.

Later that same week on that Friday morning I departed the death and destruction of Homestead and drove up Florida’s Turnpike and I-95. The next day I arrived at my former home from when I was a teenager – where my parents, little brother, and cats still lived – in Fairfax County Virginia. On that Monday morning – exactly a week after Hurricane Andrew – I arrived at Andrews AFB on the other side of the Capital Beltway in Prince Georges County Maryland (where I actually grew-up from 1969 to 1980). I checked-in as a “refugee” of Hurricane Andrew. I was not the only one. Others had beaten me there.

For the next 6 months I was stationed at Andrews AFB doing almost exactly the same job that I had left behind at Homestead AFB. I was welcomed with open arms at my new office. I was considered as that extra special bonus person that they didn’t know they would get. I fit right in. It turned out to be the greatest (and last) 6 months (out of 8 years) of my entire USAF active duty tour.

I actually lived in a dormitory room on-base during the week – generally from Sunday afternoons to Friday mornings. On Friday afternoons after work I’d circumnavigate almost half of the Beltway in a clockwise (inner-loop) direction. (What fun that rush hour traffic was.) On the return-trip back to the base on Sunday afternoons (with less traffic) I’d “cut-through” Washington D.C. diagonally from Virginia into Maryland.

Fun Fact: Back then I drove a red 1989 Geo Spectrum. It was the first brand-new car I ever bought. I bought it at Tropical Chevrolet on Biscayne Boulevard (U.S. 1) in Miami Shores Florida. (That dealership is still there today with the same name.) I owned that car for over 8 years, and I put 96,745 miles on it.

That was a crazy time in my life – albeit only 6 months – living and working in the metro area that I grew-up in from age 2 to 18. Yep – 31 years ago I was traversing the Interstate Highway System like I owned it, and not only that – I was on the Capital Beltway. I don’t drive on Interstate highways anymore except in rare circumstances (like rural portions of long road trips to and from North Texas). I generally stick with old U.S. highways and state roads. I feel more comfortable on them in my older age.

Next #TravelThursday I’ll share my coast-to-coast travel adventures along U.S. 192 and I-4 in Central Florida from exactly 30 years ago. Let’s keep traveling together.

All rights reserved (c) 2023 Christopher M. Day, CountUp

Categories
Blogging Career Military Travel Weather

Phoenix Arizona

Welcome back to #TravelThursday. Yesterday was the 30TH anniversary of Hurricane Andrew’s destruction of Homestead Florida – my home of almost 5 years at the time. After 19 months of living in Maryland, Virginia, and Central Florida (Melbourne and Tampa) – I returned to Homestead in March 1994, and I’ve been here since. That’s almost 35 years (minus 19 months). When I first arrived here in Homestead – I was 20½-years-young. Now I’m 55.

I don’t think I’ve told anyone this before – other than my coworkers at the time in Gloucestershire England – but in July 1987 I actually received vague military orders for my next assignment / duty station to Phoenix Arizona. (Those orders were inexplicably replaced 3 months later with orders to Homestead Florida.)

I’ve never been to Phoenix – “The Valley Of The Sun”. Someday I’ll probably visit. I wonder how much different my life and career would’ve turned out had I gone to Phoenix instead of Miami / Homestead. There would’ve been no hurricane to drastically change my life 7 years into my military career. Maybe I would’ve stayed 20+ years on Active Duty. Maybe I would’ve fallen in love with Arizona – much like I’ve fallen in love with Florida. Maybe I would’ve never gone on a Caribbean cruise.

I know that I would’ve thoroughly explored much of what there is to see and do in Phoenix and beyond. I’ve only stepped foot on a small part of Arizona – the northern part from Hoover Dam to the south rim of the Grand Canyon. That was part of a family excursion out of Las Vegas in January 2002.

I grew up with hot and humid summers up in the Washington D.C. area, so South Florida’s weather wasn’t such a shock when I first arrived here. It just lasts much longer here than there. British weather was similar to Maryland and Virginia weather in the wintertime. Of course winter weather lasted much longer in the U.K. I generally don’t do good with dry desert weather – whether it’s sizzling hot in the summertime or freezing cold in the wintertime. I guess if I made that move to Arizona I would’ve gotten used to it after a short little while.

As a creature of humidity – even North Texas (where much of my family lives) – is too dry for me. My nose and skin don’t like arid-extra-dry. South Florida air always feels refreshing after returning home from a week or two in Texas.

Next #TravelThursday let’s visit Luxembourg. Let’s keep traveling together.

All rights reserved (c) 2022 Christopher M. Day, CountUp

Categories
1970s Blogging Nature Travel Weather

Appalachian Trail

Welcome back to #TravelThursday. Last week I wrote about my visit exactly 30 years ago to Newfound Gap and Clingmans Dome in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

The 2,194-mile Appalachian Trail (#AT) straddles the Tennessee / North Carolina state line for over 200 miles through the park. It reaches its highest point just below the summit of Clingmans Dome at 6,625 feet. (The summit is 18 feet higher.) The summit is the highest point I’ve set foot on land in my lifetime. From south to north the #AT runs from northwestern Georgia to central Maine.

Flashback to the late-1970s when I lived in Lanham Maryland (a suburb of Washington D.C.). I was a Cub Scout, a Webelos Scout, and a Boy Scout. I think I was 10½-years-old when I moved from the Webelos to the Boy Scouts late in 1977. I remember we had Troop meetings every week at the local VFW. I enjoyed it a lot. We had classroom-like training. We made things. We played games. We planned weekend trips up in the nearby Appalachian Mountains of Maryland, Virginia, and West Virginia. This was fellowship before I ever knew what fellowship was. I was with the Boy Scouts for about 3 years until my family moved away late in 1980.

Most of our weekend trips were in the wintertime (weather-permitting) up in the Appalachians. Our leaders mapped-out a portion of the #AT with camping sites along the way, and we commenced our adventure. I think we hiked up to 10 miles per day wearing heavy backpacks, so we’d cover 20 to 30 miles during an average 2 to 3 day hike. I remember that we’d all start each new morning together (as a Troop), but then with all of our different paces of hiking we’d all start to scatter on the #AT almost immediately in groups of no less than 2. We weren’t allowed to hike solo. I had a good buddy at the time. His name was Eddie. He and I were the shy ones of the Troop. Nobody ever suspected us of doing bad things. So we got away with doing bad things. He and I were friends outside of Scouting. 45 years later I often wonder whatever happened to him. He was probably my best childhood friend ever.

The camping sites after a long day of hiking were wonderful. We erected our own tents. We setup our own fires – usually one big one (for warmth) and a whole bunch of little ones (for cooking). As a Troop we talked about our day on the #AT – people we met along the way, wild animals we saw, things we found, etc. It was a time of talking and laughing and even telling scary stories by the campfire.

Fun Fact: One time me and my buddy Eddie accidently burned our tent down !

Wearing heavy backpacks was quite the experience. We always tried to pack lightly, but you surely didn’t want to forget something (like heavy clothing) for those cold days and colder nights up on the #AT. Some of those nights were bitter cold and windy in the single digits and teens.

And then there’s the hiking shoes. No matter how perfect those shoes fit. No matter how “high-quality” those insulated socks were. You always got blisters on your ankles. They were reminders of the 20 to 30 miles of weekend hiking for the next week (or more) to come.

It was a fun 3 years with the Boy Scouts. I probably would’ve stayed with them well into my teen years had we never moved away.

Some day in the future I hope to return to the Appalachian Trail somewhere in Maryland, Virginia, or West Virginia. I want to hike a few miles up there on a nice sunny summertime day – sans backpack and hiking shoes. Maybe start at Harpers Ferry West Virginia – the start of many of our hikes from those fun Boy Scout trips.

From the mountains to the sea – next #TravelThursday. Let’s keep traveling together.

All rights reserved (c) 2022 Christopher M. Day, CountUp