Tredyffrin Easttown Historical Society
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Source: October 1986 Volume 24 Number 4, Pages 159–168

Journal of a trip by rail to Natural Bridge, and return on foot

H. B. Rumrill

• Introduction
• Sept. 18, 1919
• Sept. 19, 1919
• Sept. 20, 1919
• Sept. 21, 1919
• Sept. 22, 1919
• Sept. 23, 1919
• Sept. 24, 1919
• Sept. 25, 1919
• Sept. 26, 1919
• Sept. 27, 1919

Page 159

Introduction

This "Journal of a trip by rail to Natural Bridge, and return on foot" was kept by my father during a vacation trip that he took in September of 1919.

It was a different kind of a vacation for him. Originally, a business friend had planned to go with him, but at the last minute he got "cold feet" and backed out. So my father went alone.

Initially he had planned to walk all the way back -- inspired, perhaps, in part by his good friend, the Rev. Alden W. Quimby, well known for his love of walking -- but numerous "autoists" offered him rides in their "machines" for parts of the way. On one occasion, even a farm wagon stopped and provided him transportation for a part of the journey. As a result, he also got to meet a number of interesting people along the way.

During the nine days of his return trip he walked, according to his pedometer, exactly 100 miles. His shortest walk was on the first day, September 19th, when he walked only 6-1/2 miles, while on September 25th he walked 22 miles, the longest single day's walking distance.

His "Journal" of the trip is transcribed on the following pages.

Elizabeth Rumrill

Page 160

Page 161

Sept. 18, 1919

Left Philadelphia on the 11:45 p.m. train for Hagerstown, Md. arriving there at 7:25 a.m. on the 18th, hence via NSW to Natural Bridge.

Shortly after deciding upon a walking trip as a different kind of vacation from any that I have ever taken before, I read John Muir's "Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf of Mexico". The recital of his experiences and observations on that expedition served to stimulate my own enthusiasm. When it came to deciding in which direction I wculd walk, with the limited time at my disposal the better course seemed to be to go by rail to the Natural Bridge and walk back, as if my time should fall short I can take a train at any convenient point and complete the journey in time.

Having selected a 1-a autographic Kodak, with a quantity of film rolls, I reduced my equipment to the minimum and every necessary article for my journey is packed into a small satchel, except a number of things (including the camera) in my pockets. Those necessities consist of two extra undershirts, a pair of drawers, handkerchiefs, soft collars, paper towels, comb, tooth brush and dental paste, safety razor, iodine, nux vomica, papaya pills, dental floss, string, pencils, fountain pen, notebook, pocket knife, magnifier, paper cups, addressed envelopes and writing paper, search light, pedometer, pipe tobacco, matches, etc.

A beautiful starlight night presaged a clear day, but while it was clear at dawn it is growing cloudy. An overcoat or sweater would have felt very comfortable this morning while waiting at the Hagerstown station for the Norfolk & Western train, but I feel sure I can get along very well without either, especially when walking. Breakfast in the buffet car consisted cf sliced orange, scrambled eggs, rolls and coffee, with butter of exquisite quality. Two pipe loads of good tobacco completed the start for the day.

I notice a great many grey, glaciated rocks in the fields, especially through the Cumberland Valley north of Green Castle. The misty bluish-grey mountains on either side of the railroad, with their gently undulating outlines, are very charming and make a beautiful setting for the: rolling farm country, with here and there a farmhouse. We are now riding alongside the Shenandoah River, which is [only] a narrow stream between Cedarville and Lineton.

Arriving at Natural Bridge station about quarter after three -- nearly an hour late -- I made myself known to Mr. Burks, the Agent, who courteously informed me where I might stay for a short time prior to beginning my walk homeward via the Natural Bridge. This is at Mrs. Clark's boarding house, where I have a good room and a comfortable bed.

Lunchecn in the buffet car was a near approach to a joke. The porter had one steak left, which was ordered by a Mr. Miller --a grazer -- with whom I became acquainted. The only other thing in stock were tomatoes and canned baked beans. When Mr. M. asked about his steak the porter said, "There wasn't nuff gas to cook it." Cream for coffee?

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"De cream went souah." Any more butter? All right on butter. Coffee is 15 cents per cup -- I've tasted much better at a third that price. No eggs left; only allowed two dozen for the run from Hagerstown to Roanoke. Our table was spread in the smoking compartment and might well be described as camping out in a Pullman.

The roads are very dusty -- a finely powdered clay, in some places several inches deep. As it looks now, with sky hidden by clouds, I fear that my walking tour will be postponed by rain. Feeling pretty tired, I said that I would lie down for a while -- it was nearly four o'clock -- until supper time; to which the hostess replied that that would be a "right smart while".

Sept. 19, 1919

Awoke this morning to the tinkling of a cow bell and to a realization that the sky is covered with clouds, albeit I had dreamed that it was clear and that I had awakened the hostess in order to see a comet. The N&W track is not over a hundred feet from the house, but the few trains that passed in the early part of the night did not greatly disturb me. The radiolite watch is a great comfort to one who awakens, as I do, early in the morning, and wants to know how much more sleep is coming to me.

After taking a picture of a little nephew of Mr. Burks, started my hike for the Natural Bridge, being picked up on the last mile by the proprietor in his auto. Then to Natural Bridge.

The approach to the Natural Bridge is a rocky pathway along a little stream, itself rocky, withal musical, in its narrow bed. Just ahead are tall slender trees, then a turn in the path and the bridge is in sight -- majestic in its proportions, a wonderful natural arch of bluish white limestone. Beneath the arch, blue sky and drifting clouds enhance the effect of its grandeur. As you approach the portal the height of the span is almost appalling. The view in approaching the bridge is somewhat more impressive than that from the opposite side. The rough, unsymmetrical sculpture of nature is here in splendid estate - the handiwork of the Almighty, who has allowed geologic time for the water to wear away the rock into a mighty tunnel. As you gaze straight upward to the top of the arch the rock seems to meet the day. Crossing a small wooden bridge, I walked along the path down the side of the stream, and looked again and again until the great arch was lost to view by the trees that grow along the top of the chasm and out of its rough precipitous sides. On down the path, making an occasional picture where the sunlight penetrated, until I came to "Lost River" -- a low rocky inlet where the water comes out of the side of the hill and disappears -- where? Drank from the cool recess in the rocks a delicious draught of cold water, clear as crystal and sweet as dew. Then on over the rocky trail to where the stream pours over the rocks in a little double waterfall. Then back to the hotel for dinner, consisting of lamb, apple fritter, baked sweet potato, lima beans, corn pone, sweet pickles, coffee and apple pie.

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Then to the summit of the hill, en route looking down the gorge from the top of the bridge, but not daring to linger, where I took a photograph of the mountains, whose outlines were almost lost in the hazy atmosphere -- a glorious picture where clouds and hills meet each other in the distance.

As I was getting ready to resume my journey northward on foot I was kindly invited to join an automobile party of two who were on the way to Lexington on a tour of this part of Virginia. While disliking, to abandon even fifteen miles of my walking trip, I realized that as it was after four o'clock I would not be able to walk to Lexington before dark and so accepted the preferred seat in the machine. [Note 1]

Most of the road from Natural Bridge to Lexington is "tollable" rough, winding around many turns in the hills, and one mile after another of beautiful mountain scenery. Here and there we passed little homes in the valley -- many of them with outside chimneys - surrounded with old fashioned flowers such as asters, zinnias and scarlet sage. This peaceful valley is surely far removed from the world, although the two railroads are not more than a few miles from the highway (the "National Highway"). The sparseness of the population is very evident to one who is accustomed to densely settled country like Eastern Pennsylvania; but that is what I crave -- to get away from people, and civilization.

Total distance walked -- about 61/2 miles, but while this is not much out of the total mileage projected, it is probably better to have had the opportunity to ride this much of the journey, as a total distance of over twenty miles the first day would doubtless have been very tiring. As we arrived at Lexington just before supper time I have decided to pass the night here and, if net prevented by weather, to make an early start tomorrow on the way north.

Sept. 20, 1919

After a gcod night's rest, spent at the Central Hotel, in Lexington, I started out, being stopped by occasional slight showers, so that my real hike today did not begin until after ten o'clock. Weather very warm. The first five miles over good macadam road. Bought a cake of chocolate for emergency. Then the road all the way to Staunton is about the worst possible and after kicking through dust for about 3-1/2 miles I was hailed by the driver of a truck, who took me on with him all the way to Staunton. He had a load of soft drinks and stopped at Fairfield, Midway and Greensville, turning out to Raphine station (B&O) to distribute the same.

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Luncheon consisted of a package of crackers, the aforesaid chocolate, and a bottle of ginger ale, The valley scenery is beautiful all the way to Staunton, with many views of the Blue Ridge. No opportunity to take photographs.

At Staunton I stopped at the Augusta (this is Augusta County) for supper and a night's lodging. Staunton is a very pretty town, with many charming homes - that is, homes that are not merely houses. Architecture is distinctly southern -- "homey", roomy, restful.

Sept. 21, 1919

Left Staunton fairly early, although it was my original intention to go to early service. Fearing, however, that some part of my walk is likely to be interfered with by rain, I decided to "keep right on", but had proceeded barely a mile when I was picked up by an automobile driven by a clergyman in charge of a number of Brethren Churches, who took me about 12 miles to where the road goes over to Grottoes.

Here I proceeded afoot, but again had not gone far before I was accosted by another minister of the Brethren faith who took me about 3 miles farther to the Valley church, where he is to preach. I stayed to the service -- about an hour long. His text was the Sermon on the Mount. The singing is without instrumental accompaniment. I still prefer the organ accompaniment and feel that it not only aids congregational singing but adds much to the devotional element.

After service I went on in the direction of the Grottoes and was again picked up, landing this time at the hotel, where I took dinner. Thence to the famous Weyer's Cave, over a little hanging bridge, past a quaint little graveyard.

Went through the caverns, which are said to be more interesting than those at Luray, where, I was told, nature had been "aided" in the matter by a good deal of concrete work. The formations at Weyer's are wonderful, but it would require more than one trip to be able to write any very satisfactory description. Was given a good specimen of the stallactite formation; then after smoking and talking awhile with the guide, and a plentiful draught of delicious spring water, continued on my journey, stopping for the night at Mrs. Byer's house, where "I'll say" the food is most excellent. Her little boy greatly interested in my trip, camera, etc.

Sept. 22, 1919

Left shortly after nine o'clock via the Valley Pike, with a good lunch packed by my hospitable hostess, but encountering occasional light showers, sometimes only a few drops, however. Atmosphere very close, therefore not walking faster than about 3 miles an hour. Writing these notes while sitting on the steps of a little white church on the Valley Pike.

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Continuing my hike, I had not proceeded more than a mile before being picked up by an autoist who took me to Harrisonburg, saying that he expected to go to Winchester tomorrow, adding that if he overtook me, I would be welcome to join him. Kept on through Harrisonburg and after walking about two miles sat down to eat my lunch, which proved to be very bountiful, viz. biscuits, fried egg and meat sandwiches, two pieces of pie and chocolate layer cake -- enough for two meals. A short distance afterwards I stopped at an untenanted house and took a long drink of water, then on again possibly a half mile, when I was accosted by a young man in a Ford and found that he was on his way to Woodstock -- over 30 miles. Having made about 13 miles on foot and my left heel being a little sore, this was very welcome, and I lost no time in accepting.

Magnificent valley scenery all the way to Woodstock. Mile after mile of the Blue 'Ridge to the right - a grand expanse of farming land, diversified with woodland and many well kept farm buildings, with occasional beautiful homes. Watched the clouds breaking over the summit of the Ridge for several miles with a rain storm that gradually extended to the west, until later in the evening it swept out over the valley. The Valley Pike is in fine condition and it was an enjoyable experience, riding at about 20 to 25 miles an hour over the hills, across little streams and around many charming turns in the road. You see the road ahead, sometimes for two or three miles at a stretch, winding around the hills, then the view ahead is hidden by two or three houses clustered together, then open country again, passing through little towns, themselves usually two rows of fiouses and other buildings on each side of the highway, with the inevitable country store --a heterogeneous collection of biscuit cans, brooms, oil barrels, disorderly flotsam and jetsam of nearly everything found in a general store and natives standing around with apparently little to do.

The general impression of my trip down the valley is of clouds and blue sky and God's country, with fields of corn being shocked, and buzzards flying high, sometimes soaring along with outspread wings, lighting in the woods.

Arrived at Woodstock about half past four, stopping at the hotel here for supper, night's lodging and breakfast. Rather tired and sleepy from being cut so much in the open air and ready to turn in at 8 o'clock. Supper consisted of large rolls -- real hot bread -- fried meat, which I ate gingerly because of my dislike for fried things, fairly good coffee, butter ditto, apple sauce and other "fixin's". It rained very heavily through the night; in fact it seems as if the cloudy weather has been gathering its forces for a prolonged storm - the so called "equinoctal" -- and when I awoke a little after four it was still raining heavily. Of course, water, is scarce because of the drought, but regardless of that about the most scarce thing in civilization is water in the bedroom of a country hotel. The source of supply is undiscernible and it requires real economy out of the pitcher of water to get a foot bath, a sponge down, a face wash and a shave.

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But here is where a little practice makes perfect and I manage to keep almost up to the par of cleanliness. Such a room I have never seen before in its fullest iniquity. Black walnut furniture (antebellum like the building itself), a low bed, but not buggy, a very questionable carpet -- in fact general and pronounced dinginess, with but one redeeming feature: an electric light. No lock on the door, a bolt that was never made to work -- minus even a handle; a window with but one blind, leading out to a porch at the back -- in fact a temptation to burglary. I asked the man who brought me water whether in the absence of a door fastening I would better put up a chair to the knob and look under the bed before retiring; but he reassured me by saying that everybody around here is honest and there was nothing to fear.

Sept. 23, 1919

Having painted my heel with iodine last night and again this morning, it is nearly well, but it is still raining and I shall have to stay at least to dinner. The breakfast was not promising, however, so that if dinner is to redeem the reputation of the breakfast it will have to be very good indeed. A small portion of oatmeal, without real cream; potatoes and meat that I could not eat, four little corn cakes with plenty of sugar, two soft boiled eggs (these were excellent) and two cups of ccffee, with a slice of bread, constituted breakfast. It was long in coming on the table, however, because there was but one waiter to serve about twenty-five people. Still raining slightly at noon, but the sky is brightening a little and I hope to get away from these execrable conditions -- the sooner the better - before long.

After dinner -- still too uncertain to allow of making another start. A little after one the day brightened toward the west, but has again become overcast and showering a little now and then. About the dreariest time I have put in for a long while, and while I have all week before me, a day's hold up is discouraging, particularly in a small Virginia town, with the surroundings of a "classy 18 hotel, with armchairs on the sidewalk and a chilly temperature.

Shortly after two o'clock the weather indications were more promising and I very gladly resumed ny journey northwards, reaching Tom's Brook (partly by automobile) and Strasburg (13 miles -- about 6 miles of it in another nachine); thence on foot 5 miles to Middletown, where I am staying for the night at Mrs. Kline's boarding house. Very comfortable bed and excellent food. Was recommended here by the Delco Light representative who gave me a lift in his machine to Strasburg. Fine honey and the most delicious ham I ever ate in 52 years. About 2 miles out of Middletown I got a lift in a farm wagon, whose driver was a real gentleman in overalls. Several little touches of rain -- the remainder of last night's storm -- but waited at Tom's Brook until it was over.

As I walk over the road, "up hill and down dale", I think of the Dutch plan of stating distances in "pipes"; that is, smokes. On that system of reckoning I should say that it was about seven or eight smokes from Strasburg to Middletown -- several of which I accounted for with my own trusty pipe.

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Sept. 24, 1919

The day starts out bright and cool - just the right temperature for walking.

On leaving Middletown I had walked possibly a mile before I was invited into a car driven by Mr. Braithwaite, a Government official, who took me to Winchester. Stopped at a number of places, including one of the old mills, where I got some pictures. At station we spent a short time looking around an apple orchard, where I bespoke a barrel of wine saps. Mr. B. seems to be a first-rate sort of fellow and we parted in a very friendly way at Winchester, where I took a picture of the beautiful National Cemetery. Then decided to take the Berryville Turnpike rather than going on to Hagerstown. After walking about five miles on the Berryville road I got another lift -- this time at a speed of over 30 miles an hour, which put me in Berryville in about ten minutes.

Kept on to Charlestown, W. Va. en route to Harper's Ferry. Am spending the night in Charlestown. The road between Berryville and Charlestown is not so good as the Valley Pike. The distance is 12 miles and although I had a short lift between Berryville and Rippon I was beginning to get footsore when I got another ride 4-1/2 miles out of Charlestown, which was very gratefully received. In fact, I was beginning to think of looking for some secluded place to sleep in the open, but as I saw nothing I could only decide to keep on at a moderate pace until I reached Charlestown; but fortunately I was spared both ordeals.

This has been without doubt the finest day since I left Philadelphia.

Sept. 25, 1919

Somewhat footsore, due partly to the flexibility of the neolin soles. After all, there is nothing better than good old-fashioned sole leather. Before continuing to Harper's Ferry I walked back in the direction of Berryville, to look at and photograph the old church ruins about 1-1/2 miles from Charles Town. A good deal of the road to Harper's Ferry is rough and stony, and this accentuated the disadvantages of neolin soles. It is much easier walking on the smooth well oiled Valley Pike, with its freedom from the dust nuisance. After hiking seven of the eight miles from Charles Town to Harper's Ferry, I was picked up by an auto, but on stopping at the drug store near Harper's Ferry station I found that my pocket book was missing, it having no doubt dropped out while carrying my coat over my arm. This necessitated retracing the ground back to the old church -- 10 miles -- staying again over night in Charles Town, inserting an ad in the Advocate and, on the following day, a careful search along the road for the missing pocket book [Note 2]

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Sept. 26, 1919

The hotel keeper very kindly allowed me to have a room, and Mr. Rissler editor of the Advocate also trusted me for the cost of advertising my loss. No trace of the pocket book, and at Harper's Ferry the Agent let me have a ticket to Frederick City, where one of our people, Mr. Albaugh, immediately loaned me ten dollars, out of which I paid for a ticket to Berwyn.

Sept. 27, 1919

Stayed over night in Frederick City and took the 8:50 train for home in the morning. My pedometer registers exactly 100 miles. The last courtesy of the trip was a ride in an automobile to the station. This was on the part of Mr. Kiefer, who is one of our station force in Frederick City.

Far from being a lonely walk, there has been plenty of social companionship, and each day has been filled with pleasant experiences. During the hours of solitariness I could always hear the clicking of the pedometer and I cannot see how I could have dropped my pocket book without hearing it fall. Through the kindnesses referred to, however, it has become a case of "All's well that ends well", the day is a glorious one, and I am homeward bound. [Note 3]

1. The invitation to join the automobile party at Natural Bridge was very insistent, particularly on the part of the proprietor of the Inn there. After several miles had been covered, the driver of the car stopped and said, "I think we should become better acquainted." He then continued, "You have been spotted as a Revenue Officer. The moonshiners shoot to kill, and never waste a bullet. That is why we wanted to get you out of that area!" ER

2. When my father went to the editor and publisher of the "Farmers Advocate" at Charles Town to request him to insert an ad, he said to him, "Perhaps I could write an article for your paper." "What is your subject?" "Astronomy." "Well, I'm afraid our readers wouldn't be interested in that," he said. To which my father replied, "I have nothing to do this evening -- suppose I write it and if you think it unacceptable, you can put it in the waste basket." The next morning, when he took the article to the Editor, the latter, after reading it, said, "I'll publish this!" -- which he did!

3. Two or three days after my father had arrived home, the wallet was received by mail -- intact! ER