SuperFutureDad and I had just crossed the border into Virginia from North Carolina when a ferocious rain storm nearly knocked us off the interstate. The fat drops fell fast as the wiper blades in our compact rental car furiously sloshed the water to the side. Good thing we spotted a “Virginia is for Lovers” sign. We pulled into a rest stop and bounded inside to collect some Virginia Tourism Board swag.
My husband and I were in the middle of a procreation vacation, our version of a babymoon. We had spent a few days visiting my best friend, her husband and their new baby in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and were now on our way to Fredericksburg, VA and Gettysburg, PA. Crying newborn notwithstanding, SuperFutureDad and I were still intent on trying to create a little nugget of our own.
Historic Richard Johnston Inn.
My arms filled with maps, museum and tour pamphlets, and a list of recommended inns and restaurants, SuperFutureDad and I continued on our way to Fredericksburg. The 4-hour journey north passed by in a blur of thick forests and brown signs indicating historical markers. I made reservations, sight unseen, at the Richard Johnston Inn, the onetime home of a Fredericksburg mayor of the same name. At $175 a night, the Inn was a little out of our budget for just a one-night stay, but the innkeeper promised us it would be worth it.
She was right. Our room was located at the top of the 3-story building and had original exposed rafters in the ceiling. It housed a lush king-size bed (perfect for baby-making!) and its own private bathroom. The Inn is located in the heart of the town’s historic district, directly across the street from the visitor’s center so signing up for tours and area attractions is a snap.
We met some locals, including a Secret Service agent, at a nearby pub called Brock’s Riverside Grill. Turns out, ‘Fred-Vegas,’ as the locals call it, is mainly a commuter town for folks who work in Washington, DC. That’s a 2½ hour drive everyday. Each way. Yuck.
The next day, it took us twice that, plus another 4 hours, as we crept through DC and Maryland traffic on our way to Gettysburg. But as we watched the rolling Pennsylvania hills open into the fog-filled battlefields of the Civil War town, all bumper-to-bumper visions were forgotten, replaced with the chilly murmurs of gunshots.
We checked into another charming bed and breakfast, The Brickhouse Inn. Our room was not nearly as large as our one in Fred-Vegas, and we soon found out that antique beds aren’t the most discreet procreating devices. Oh well. The Inn had an immaculately landscaped garden patio where we ate home-cooked breakfasts each morning. The trade-off was more than acceptable.
In a Civil War battlefield, northeast of Gettysburg.
Gettysburg National Military Park is a massive place, made up of numerous battlefields and landmarks stretching across several miles. If you’re a rookie, like we were, the best way to see it is with a Licensed Battlefield Guide. We recommend George Newton.
SuperFutureDad and I spent two days exploring this slice of American history. We found the monuments erected for our respective home states, spotted cannon shot and bullet holes still lodged in buildings in the middle of town and spent a rainy afternoon strolling through The Soldiers National Cemetery, the place where President Abraham Lincoln delivered the ‘Gettysburg Address.’
By the time we left Gettysburg, we decided that if we ever have a baby boy, we will name him Lincoln.
AlmostMommyGal Patricia Carlson has high hopes that she’ll soon be able to write at her computer with a baby on her lap. In the meantime, she’s an award-winning television news reporter and freelance writer. You can find her stuff at patriciacarlsonfreelance.com.
Sounds like a lovely trip! (Baby Lincoln – cute!)
I just love the idea of a procreation vacation.
What a fun read.