It was a perfect spring day when I took the boys to Yorktown, the last stop of the historic triangle. Like Historic Jamestown and Jamestown Settlement there are two sites to visit, Yorktown National Battlefield and Yorktown Victory Center. Unlike Jamestown Settlement you don’t need a full day to visit Yorktown Victory Center and admission doesn’t cost you your right arm like Colonial Williamsburg.
The Yorktown Victory Center is hands-on. There is a museum, a Continental Army encampment and a 1780’s farm where historical interpreters describe and depict life of the soldiers and civilians of that time.
The boys, of course, liked the war camp.
The equivalent to a light bulb.
The equivalent to a smart phone.
Yeah, I prefer my maps app. I won’t even talk about what we learned in the medical tent.
Thankfully there was era appropriate wear to try on in the officer’s tent. Lord only knows how much Thing Two loves to be historically accurate.
The battle at Yorktown was the last major battle of the Revolutionary War and Yorktown National Battlefield is a place to ponder the events that sealed America’s victory.
We stopped along the 7 Mile Battlefield Tour Road to explore the earthworks.
And look at the artillery.
Heading back to the truck after one of our stops we discovered something terrible.
A tick on Thing Two.
Then as we buckled up, I saw one crawling up my thigh. You would have thought I had found a stowaway cobra.
After sweaters were shaken out and bodies checked, we headed to our last stop on the 7 Mile Battlefield Road, Surrender Field, where British troops laid down their arms. I don’t know if it was the ticks, the setting sun, or PMS but, I’ll admit, I got teary-eyed looking across the field and then annoyed when all the boys could do was talk about ticks falling from the trees like paratroopers.
Maybe I should have listened to them because on the way home we found no less than 8 more stowaway ticks looking for a free meal. I think my skin may have thickened (no pun intended) at the medical tent talk because I ordered, “flick those intruders out the window” and I focused on one thing, getting this beast of a truck safely back to our campsite where I could collapse in Brent’s arms and cry about the ticks.
Love and Laughter,
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