1750. (Charlottesville, Virginia)

I’m not going to be able to do this justice, I can tell you that right now. But I was about to sign off and fold up my laptop, and figured I should cap off the Road Journal with a little description of where we are at the moment, because it’s quite incredible. There are three floors in this tall, narrow cabin, all approximately the same size, all one room, the lowest floor with a fireplace, and a narrow, windy wooden staircase that connects the three. I’m sleeping on the very top floor, with windows open at both ends of the room and a high triangle peaked ceiling that runs down to the floor (no walls). The other guys are sleeping on the floors below. We’re surrounded by woods, and so the only noise I can hear – and it’s loud at times – is the wind whipping down the mountains and pushing the treetops around outside the windows. This cabin was built in 1750 – twenty six years before the Declaration of Independence was signed. The front door has the original hammered-iron hardware, with a skeleton key and hinges that bear the mark of the hammer that formed them. I’m laying here with no light other than the glow of my laptop, and no sound other than the wind through the trees and crickets that are audible when the wind occasionally dies down. Looking out the window, it’s as absolutely pitch black as it gets – no light pollution at all. Two or three times in the last hour, I’ve heard loud ‘cracks’ of branches in the woods, likely deer or other sizable animals making their way up and down the wooded hillsides. The wind is gusting as I type this sentence… and now it is quiet again as I finish it. The history of this cabin, the site, and the unspoiled surroundings are pretty compelling. I can imagine 200+ years of people sleeping in this exact room, hearing this exact combination of silence, wind, and crickets. Really, really cool. And with that, I’m going to turn off the computer and enjoy the breeze moving through the room and the sounds outside. Hasta for now…