Just Like Nothing (else) on Earth: Mount Gilead

By Tim Jon

With few exceptions I’ve always been a person who’s obeyed the laws of the land; I find life is just—generally speaking—much easier that way—probably for everyone concerned. This adherence to our social conventions keeps me from doing certain things and—in today’s instance – from going to the wrong places. 

I believe the first time I drove along Mount Gilead Road in south-central Loudoun County—was professionally, anyway—in the fall of the year 2008—in delivering mail for the US Postal Service; in fact, it was my first day on the job. 

Now I’d been on rural roads before, and I’ve always enjoyed drives in ‘the country;’ some of the dirt and gravel corridors in our locality would make the rocks in your head rattle—and if you happen to be driving a mail truck on them, you could lose a filling—or worse. 

I don’t recall how rough Mount Gilead Road was on that first day, but I’ll never forget the scenery along the last section of the way; you see County Road 797 runs right along the top of the Catoctin Mountains—running north to south pretty much through the middle of Loudoun. 

I had had the good fortune to enjoy some of the spectacular views of the western valley of our County from the property of a friend who formerly lived along that stretch, and I’ll always remember watching the sky change as the evening progressed and the stars eventually started to balance the effects of the man-made lights sprinkled throughout the many square miles of that valley. Sense memory recall is an amazing—if profitless—endeavor. 

But for today’s story I stuck to the road’s right of way and enjoyed the memories; I also had to dig into the personal history vaults for the character of the roadway itself, as the latter portion— that running right along the spine of the Catoctin range, is now, for better or for worse, almost perfectly smooth, having been paved over. 

This practice usually pleases some of the local residents and motorists along the way, and makes others unhappy, as they feel—so I’ve heard at many government meetings, that they’re losing the ‘rural character’ of the gravel or dirt road. 

I can say from 18 years’ experience driving a mail truck on both gravel and paved surfaces, that gravel produces dust and a washboard effect of bumpy surfaces—which can lead to loss of control of vehicles, while they can provide a much better source of traction during freezing or even rainy conditions. 

The paved surfaces—to my finding—can be dangerously slippery when icy or wet—but they do cut down on dust. If you’ve never driven a freshly gravel-covered road in the midst of a dry spell in Loudoun County, you’ve missed an experience. And, if you’ve never driven a mail delivery truck uphill, on a paved road, on glare ice—well, your heart probably beats steadier than mine. 

So—no—I’m a little sorry to say—I didn’t park my car and take my chances of trespassing on anyone’s property that day along Mount Gilead Road, in the hopes of getting a stunning shot of the morning sun lighting up the entire Loudoun Valley. I wanted to return home with my skin intact. 

Nor did I continue driving past the “End of State Maintenance” sign, posted near the “Private Property” placard as the road narrowed and continued along the crest of the ridge. As I said at the top of the story, life just seems to work out easier, and better for all concerned—in the adherence to certain rules. 

But I’ve got these items on my bucket list of exploration in Loudoun County, and you just may see a “Return to Mount Gilead” in this series a few years down the line. The roadway continues—according to those high-tech mapping services—for several miles to the south—just about all the way to Goose Creek—opposite the northernmost terminus of Wild Goose Lane— along which I’ve also delivered the US Mail. In the meantime, I still have lots of memories of the sights I’ve seen along Mount Gilead Road, and now, hopefully, you do as well.