Within three hours of leaving the urban jungle of New York, Stewbert and I were cruising down rural Pennsylvania, largely unchanged since the Civil War. Gleaming skyscrapers, intestinal roadways and artificially manicured park drives gave way to foliage that looked very much as though it was about to reclaim its territory. It was a silent yet powerful reminder that we are only guests here.
Gettysburg was, in every sense, a breath of fresh air. Stewbert and I grabbed maps of the battlefield park, and toured the sites on our motorcycles. We saw McPherson Ridge, where Union and Confederate forces initially clashed, marking the beginning of the Battle of Gettysburg. Eerily, the McPherson barn still stands as a silent witness, just as it did on that day.
At the Virginia Memorial, a statue of General Lee immortalizes the sight of Pickett's Charge, the ill-fated last offensive maneuver of the Confederate army. Standing in the silence of the misty morning, I felt the chills of voices past, the dew on the ground and softness of the atmosphere.
I could almost see the 12,000 Confederates charge across the field toward Union lines.
Conti-nuing our tour, we stopped at the Union Army's perspective of Pickett's Charge. Again, the haze of the morning added a somber sense of realism to the scene. Possibly the most dramatic aspect of the tour was the scenery. Trees, open fields, and buildings are much the same now as then.
Stewbert and I left Gettysburg via Highway 15, which runs parallel to the lines of Pickett's Charge. The advance of the Confederates was slowed when they crossed this very road, which exposed them to raking, murderous Union fire. It is one thing to read about the battle, quite another to experience the haunting palpability of the site.
- Dan Wegmueller writes a weekly column for the Times, and an annual journal from his summer motorcycle trip. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
Gettysburg was, in every sense, a breath of fresh air. Stewbert and I grabbed maps of the battlefield park, and toured the sites on our motorcycles. We saw McPherson Ridge, where Union and Confederate forces initially clashed, marking the beginning of the Battle of Gettysburg. Eerily, the McPherson barn still stands as a silent witness, just as it did on that day.
At the Virginia Memorial, a statue of General Lee immortalizes the sight of Pickett's Charge, the ill-fated last offensive maneuver of the Confederate army. Standing in the silence of the misty morning, I felt the chills of voices past, the dew on the ground and softness of the atmosphere.
I could almost see the 12,000 Confederates charge across the field toward Union lines.
Conti-nuing our tour, we stopped at the Union Army's perspective of Pickett's Charge. Again, the haze of the morning added a somber sense of realism to the scene. Possibly the most dramatic aspect of the tour was the scenery. Trees, open fields, and buildings are much the same now as then.
Stewbert and I left Gettysburg via Highway 15, which runs parallel to the lines of Pickett's Charge. The advance of the Confederates was slowed when they crossed this very road, which exposed them to raking, murderous Union fire. It is one thing to read about the battle, quite another to experience the haunting palpability of the site.
- Dan Wegmueller writes a weekly column for the Times, and an annual journal from his summer motorcycle trip. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.