SUN SONG 15: Beware, Planes Overhead
Municipal Seafood Market, Hardcore Häagen-Dazs, and the Washington Metro.
May 29th, 2022
Washington, D.C.
16.61 miles
Today it hit me. I’m here in Washington, D.C. on Memorial Day?
Memorial Day always sneaks up on me. I usually realize it’s coming the week before, which usually thwarts any preconceived plans.
Luckily, REI is open today and I’m in dire need of new socks. I left New York City with two pairs, and somehow lost one pair while in Philadelphia. I looked everywhere, but alas—gone!
I wear merino wool socks, which are wonderful in many regards. Most notably resistance to odor, so they can be worn days on end if you’d like, but that doesn’t mean these puppies are exactly smelling fresh out of the laundry after a few days of walkin’. There’s a reason why I bring two pairs.
Anyway, Memorial Day. What is time for me? I’ve lost all sense on this journey. Tell me it’s Wednesday or Saturday, I might have believed you. Instead of firing up the grill and drinking beverages with family or friends, I’m hopping on a train and leaving the nation’s capital for Virginia. I can’t wait to get down to Richmond.
Yesterday I wound up at the Municipal Seafood Market. The market, as I understand, is only a fragment of its former glory these days. It’s tucked away underneath the I-395 12th Street highway offramp and sits adjacent to The Wharf, a multi-billion dollar mixed development along the southwest waterfront.
I’ve yet to have any seafood during this trip, and my streak continues. I didn’t feel like standing in line, as the market and the surrounding Wharf is a huge tourist attraction not far from the National Mall. The development has had mixed effects on the market, (which I might add is the longest continuously operating seafood market in the States), causing Captain White, one of the largest vendors at the market to pack up their bags and set up shop elsewhere. Nowadays, it’s just Jessie Taylor with two stands sitting parallel from one another.
Regardless, there’s still plenty of seafood to be purchased and eaten. Workers are in a constant dance of shuffling ice, moving fresh seafood, taking money, and packaging customer’s selections. There was no rhyme or reason to the line. Just step right up and order yourself some oysters and crabs, given you can get a worker's attention.
Instead of waiting, I ate Shake Shack along the waterfront and watched the boats.
I was at a junction after finishing up at the seafood market. Should I walk through the National Mall and make my way to Georgetown or stop at Gravelly Point, just across the Potomac River in Arlington, Virginia?
To be honest, neither sounded appealing at the moment. After walking 18 miles the day before, my feet were sore and showing signs of wear. Either route would add an extra 3 or 4 miles to my day, at least, and then I’d have to walk 4 to 5 miles back.
I knew going to Gravelly would be worthwhile. It’s located literally right at the foot of Ronald Reagan Airport. From the park, you can watch airplanes fly right above your head. It’s got to be one of the best places for plane spotting. Getting there would require walking along the Mount Vernon Trail. I decided to go for it and I’m so happy I did. It was a beautiful day and gave me a break from the hustle bustle of the city sidewalks. Instead of concrete and cars, I followed lush trees, water, and the occasional noise of an airplane coming to land.
Part of the trail does involve walking the George Mason Memorial Bridge on a protected pedestrian path right beside the traffic of I-395. There’s no shade or water in sight. Instead, you hear the constant hum of traffic – unfavorable conditions for those on foot – but I weirdly found it comforting. I know these kinds of paths best. I’ve spent a good chunk of time walking them during my previous long, long walks (especially walking the length of Long Island). It is here that walking feels like a statement, even though this path was made for such activity.
The trail is incredibly nice and peaceful once you cross the river into Arlington. When I looked at my map I imagined something much different (whatever that was) and void of people, but was greeted by plenty of shade, a cool breeze, and the sound of crashing water along the banks of the Potomac River. From afar, I could see a huge congregation of people at Gravelly Point properly celebrating the weekend.
I came to Gravelly to watch airplanes. This isn’t the first time I’ve done so. Late last year I went through a phase of trekking up to Landing Lights Park right outside LaGuardia Airport in Queens just to watch planes land. I even downloaded this app, FlightRadar24, which tells you where each plane is flying from, speed, elevation, etc. I’m a walking paradox, both terrified and fascinated with airplanes. Watching them land doesn’t necessarily calm my fear, but I do find it soothing. I wrote a whole newsletter on it months ago.
Now at Gravelly Point, airplanes flew just overhead, to the point where I was almost convinced they were going to crash into the surrounding plane watchers and me. The swoosh of the plane's engines above is certainly terrifying – kind of like riding a rollercoaster. You just want more after feeling that first rush. Each time a plane would approach, a group of children and adults would line up and wave to the plane as it quickly approached the runway.
I watched for much, much longer than I meant, but each time I would take a photo and then convince myself there was one more angle to see the planes fly. It was a fun game, but I had to get going. Otherwise I’d have to walk back during sundown.
I continued heading north and crossed the Francis Scott Key Bridge back into Washington proper. From there, I pivoted east, through Georgetown and then for the National Mall.
I didn’t spend much time in Georgetown, save for resupplying on much needed toiletries at a CVS and grabbing a macchiato from a grocery store. The neighborhood is situated on a bluff beside the Potomac River, which makes the area pretty hilly and picturesque. There’s a lot of history to be seen here, not to mention politicians and lobbyists who call the place home. Even from Georgetown, you can still see airplanes landing. It almost feels like city developers planned the airport to be so close to the city for effect. There’s something about the nation’s capital, the landmarks, and then giant airplanes flying overhead. The display feels very American.
Washington D.C. was once home to a burgeoning punk and hardcore scene throughout the 80’s and 90’s (I’m not sure how it fairs these days). A bunch of bands came out of here, like Minor Threat, Bad Brains, and Rites of Spring, elevating this place to legendary status. You could spend a day walking to all sorts of landmarks of hardcore history, like the Discord House in Arlington or the original location of the 9:30 club, but I chose the Georgetown Häagen-Dazs on Wisconsin Avenue instead. Supposedly, and perhaps someone can correct me if I’m wrong, Ian Mackeye and Henry Rollins (of Black Flag) worked together there in the early 80’s prior to achieving success. I would have stopped inside for a scoop of ice cream, but it’s been nothing but lines out here. Washington D.C. is bumpin’ on Memorial Day weekend.
I finished the day down at the National Mall before boarding the Metro for Capitol Hill. I told myself I wouldn't spend any more time doing touristy things, but it was my last chance to see the Lincoln and Vietnam Memorials. Both landmarks I’ve never seen. As you might imagine, everything was packed with tourists from all over, but I didn’t mind. Children played at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial, while students lined up for a picture of Abe Lincoln. Families sat together on the steps.
There was a certain liveliness in the air, one that somewhat reminded me of Times Square (many readers will know how much I love Times Square). Instead of lingering for too long, I snapped a few pics, hit the Vietnam Memorial (which had a much more solemn atmosphere) and walked to the train.
The Metro here in D.C. is so nice. All the downtown Washington stations look exactly the same with concrete overarching vaulted ceilings. The use of indirect lighting gives each station a cozy feel. The ambience is like a fancy performance hall or amphitheater. There’s a level of consideration that is unknown to New York’s subway system, but to give the MTA credit, it’s much, much older (Washington’s Metro is only 46 years old). I almost dozed off riding back to my Airbnb as I still managed to walk 16 miles despite my feet. I went to bed early, instead of writing this newsletter, to catch up on much needed rest.
New York! See you in just over two weeks. We’ve just hit the halfway point of this long and winding walk by means of rail. Five more cities to go. Stay tuned.
Writing from a delayed train to Richmond,
–Alex
I love the train station and the second plane one.