Morning showers greeted me. By 7am, I was at the Stonewall Jackson Shrine. He died here on May 10th, 1863 (from pneumonia, by the way). The original home, well, an office for a plantation actually, still stands. I managed a photo or two the rain, but that was it. The grounds of the shrine were guarded by Guinea Fowl. At least half a dozen ran around squawking up a storm. (Interestingly, the closest town in Guinea Station!)
Jackson is considered one of the greatest generals ever.
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I found the birding here some of the best of any battlefield. The big woodlots were full of (and I mean “full of”!) Ovenbirds. Eastern Wood-pewees were easy to come by. A Northern Parula was near Catherine’s Furnace. Red-eyed Vireos were everywhere, too.
With that, shortly before lunch, I plotted a course to New York, specifically the Catskills. My GPS actually took me through the northwest corner of Delaware and the northern part of New Jersey. Unfortunately, by this point, the rain was hard enough were “expressway birding” was not possible. Besides, I had already birded these states before (Delaware a few days back and New Jersey a bit in the fall of 1999) so I likely would not have added anything new at 70mph. I also blew right past Washington DC. As I rounded the bend on the expressway (lunch traffic runs just fine) I found myself gazing at the Washington Monument and the Capital Building. I need to get back to that town. Very cool place! I was there in 2002. (I have to get the National History Museum. They have, on display, a 22 inch oak tree stump. The tree itself was cut down by small arms fire at the Bloody Angle from Spotsylvania Court House - a testament to the gruesome fighting that took place there).
Anyhow, by 7:30pm, I had checked into my hotel (the Cobblestone Motel) in Phoenicia, New York, and confirmed the location of my trailhead (thanks to the attendant at the campground). Dinner was at Al's Seafood where the owner proudly walks around with his little fru-fru dog. As I understand it, unless your dog assists the blind, you can't have them in a place that serves food. I don't gather that fru-frus are trained for that sort of thing. It certainly could bring a new meaning to the phrase “Waiter, there is a hair in my soup.” Well, whatever. I turned in early knowing I had an early start the next day...
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