Jason here writing solo. The past day and a half in Williamsburg were really great. We spent the past two nights sleeping on the floor of our now great friend Dale, who is in fact the cousin of my dad's girlfriend. As the three of us were falling asleep last night, we collectively agreed that the tour he gave us of this at times kitschy little town was exactly what this bike trip should be: a beautiful little nugget of local life. We're obviously not in school at the moment, but there's a huge argument to be made that there is absolutely no better classroom than a tour of the unique culture of an American city like Williamsburg. We decided to split up for the first half of the day, as Drew and I ran a few errands while Jackson and Dale took what Jackson described as an awesome tour of Williamsburg Pottery (check out some clay covered pictures below). We then met up for lunch at The College Delly (lovingly spelled wrong), where I attempted to eat a plate of some gnarly pasta that I did not even come close to finishing (although it provided some very necessary mid-biking snacks). Our appetites have been freaking insane these days, and if we're following in the footsteps of the great Olivia Hunt, we're dancing around 5,000 calories a day. Dale loaded us up in his pick-up truck after that (Jackson and Drew cruised in the bed of the truck), and we entered the insane world of the historic district. Before I describe all of that goodness, you should all know that I'm seriously considering working there someday. The thought of dressing up like a colonial dude and running up to little kids to some kind of silly dance is incredible to me, like some crazy never-ending shticky camp program. We tried on some awesome hats, saw buildings that were built in 1715 (before the Declaration of Independence was even conceived), took the classic tourist pictures in the little head-torture thingy, saw some horse poop, bought a jaw harp, and met Thomas Jefferson. Although historic Williamsburg was great, the history and education that was goin' on at the Historic Jamestowne Settlement, Dale's place of work, was a lot more impressive. The three of us have been doing a fairly significant amount of reflecting on how we see education in this country (as much as three ignorant suburban boys know), and it was my opinion that these guys really know how to teach. Their exhibits made the experience great. Aside from a pretty good normal exhibit thing, they had multiple "hands-on" museums that literally plopped visitors into the historical time period. The first was great - we met a really awesome young lady from Texas who was (wo)manning an authentic restored ship, and hopefully she's reading this post right now. We then made our way to a recreated Powhatan Indian village, which was made complete by a shirtless dude lighting a fire in a hut-shaped thing with a FULL LEGITIMATE BEAR SKIN hanging from the ceiling. It turns out that bear had gotten hurt somehow on a highway, and when veterinarians couldn't help him his body was donated to the musuem. The "Indians" there used the bear exactly like Powhatans would have back then, which meant skinning, tanning the hide (not sure if I'm using the right terms here), and even eating the meat. One of the Indians left us with the incredible quote of "bear meat is so good."
Felt like hittin up a paragraph break there. Until this point, the three of us were just getting to know Dale and appreciating his generous hosting in a polite way. Everything clicked between the four of us after we left the Jamestowne Settlement, however, when Dale introduced us to the incredible game of Walleyball. When I get back to Manhattan Beach in 2000 years, this game is going to become a regular hobby of the Mira Costa drama department. Walleyball is volleyball inside of a racquetball court, but with the added insanity of allowing players to hit the ball against the walls of the room. Dale and his friend Robbie were experienced veterans and Jackson's past life as a Harvard Westlake volleyball bro made him about as good as them. Drew and I stumbled around for a while, but eventually caught on and the experience was incredible. Don't let his normal attire of a shirt and tie fool you, Dale Hall is very capable of getting very, very sweaty. We finished the night with Subway, ice cream, and a little bit of blogging, and everything rocked.
Dale, we honestly cannot thank you enough. You were an awesome tour guide, but just hanging out with you was honestly the real treat of this visit. Hopefully we all can hang out soon again.
Here's a new addition that will hopefully accompany every post:
Number of bloody noses: 3 (all Jason)
Railroads crossed: 7
Falls: 2 (one involving a domino effect of all of us falling on top of each other)
Biking malfunctions: 1 (Day 1 ownage)
Churches slept in: 1
...and many more.
Love you all.
ya'all are hungry now?
The Armoury in Williamsburg
clay wall house