Just like nothing (else) on earth: Upperville

By Tim Jon

“What do you recall?”

 Well, let’s see: there was stately, iconic Buchanan Hall, some not-so-distant views of the Blue Ridge, then that initial ride through main street – rolling through the Village – the classic silhouettes of the Hunter’s Head Tavern, an imposing physical (and spiritual) presence encountered at the Upperville Baptist Church, a quaint, almost doll-house sized local Post Office, an even smaller Library just a few yards down the street, an informational marker reminding us of the up-close and personal involvement during the American Civil War. 

Don’t forget the absolutely massive footprint (and verticality) at the Trinity Episcopal Church (and an official placard noting the artistic and philanthropical efforts of one of its members) – and, fittingly or no, a finale to my day’s photo-session, wrapped up at an abandoned property, with the barely-still-standing remains of a couple of well-used residential structures. 

Yes, these images (and the transitional steps in-between) accompanied me as I drove the 25 miles or so back to my home in the County Seat of Leesburg, fortified with an adventure by foot, wheel, curiosity and camera lens. 

And, I remember the distinct feeling of growing affection for a place I’d merely driven through a few times, over the past couple of decades, without ever really taking the time to soak in the local atmosphere and explore – even on this very cursory level. And just what was that ‘historic village personality’ I encountered? 

Well, I would say, friendly, comfortable, and familiar; I enjoyed the welcome smiles on the few fellow pedestrians I came across, and appreciated (remember this is Northern Virginia, one of the traffic capitols of the known universe) the slow pace – and intermittent spacing – of the few vehicles passing through on Route 50 – John Mosby Highway. I found interesting and unique local features nearly within touching distance as I drove by and parked for a leg-stretch. 

And I haven’t yet even mentioned that this historic community lies in the veritable heart of the region’s horse country. Now being an outsider, and a native northerner at that, I never feel quite qualified to rub shoulders with those who can afford the landed gentry status of estate ownership and the rarified air enjoyed by those in the circles of fine equine breeding. Imagine the 20^th Century Welsh Poet, Dylan Thomas (who wrote many of his poems in a boat-house) taking the assignment of interviewing Britain’s Royal Family, and you may just begin to get the idea. And that ain’t just hay. 

Leaving the ponies and their cronies to the experts of their world, I also, undoubtedly, missed a treasure trove of other local adventures on my last visit to Upperville: the Mount Pisgah Baptist Church and nearby West View Cemetery, as well as the Upperville United Methodist Church (all just a block or so off main street). 

I did make it to the western edge of the Village, and noted that further exploration waited (for another day) along County Route 619 – Trappe Road, on the other end of which I’d delivered the US Mail in serving the delivery routes for the mountain community of Bluemont. And of course, Sky Meadows State Park lies just to the southwest of the furthest extent of this day’s outreach. 

And these omissions are in the column marked “Positive.” I highly value ‘undiscovered country.’  I hope I’ve got a long list of places to visit as I someday return from my last, ever, trip. Give me something to do in my ‘ghost years.’ 

So: whether I ever find myself a comfortable and affordable place to stay in Upperville, and whether I ever attend a community event at the familiar and historic Buchanan Hall on the eastern edge of the village, whether I get the pleasure of warming a barstool and imbibing in a ‘warmer’ adult beverage at the esteemed Hunter’s Head Tavern, if I get a chance to collect my mail at the official Post Office on main street, and select a book or two (and maybe even donate some I’ve already read) at the charming little Library down the block, if I ever attend a service at any one several impressive local houses of worship – or, say – if I fall into a fortune and buy some of those derelict properties and build a unique, modern dwelling for myself – or no, (probably no to all) I will feel, for at least a very long time (perhaps to the end of my days) that I’ve at least sort of, in my own way, gotten to know this little Village of Upperville, some 25 miles to the southwest of my home in Leesburg, Virginia. 

And you can possess that feeling, free of charge, for as long as you’d like. We may even meet there. And, as was I you’re welcome.