So our 3 Months In a Tent has started off in motels but that’s ok!

We’ve got plenty of warm weather and camping ahead of us!

After much deliberation, we decided to make Gettysburg, PA our first stop.

We’ve been to Gettysburg several times, and I have so much to say about our experiences in Gettysburg! That’s another blog post for another day, but I will say this: Gettysburg is a very interesting place.

There is a seriousness to it, a solid reverence to the harrowing bloodshed that occurred here during the civil war. It’s preserved and meticulously kept. It permeates the entire town which is dotted with memorials and monuments and namesakes of the blue and gray robed soldiers who fought here.

The townsfolk are generally very friendly and don’t drive like a**holes.

Good stuff. Thumbs up, Gettysburg! 👍🏻

Then, there is the quiet underbelly that I will expose in the following story:

Generally (General Lee? 🤷🏼‍♀️), you take the Auto Tour through the battlefield which is lined with monuments and you can pull over, take in the countryside and snap photos, while soaking in the historic significance of the ground you stand on. Pulling over is the point. Everyone does it.

We pulled over on Seminary Ridge, at the original building and were researching the number of casualties at the Battle of Gettysburg. We noticed a trio of female joggers about 1/4 mile up the road. 1/4 mile is like …a lot of feet.

No other cars were on the road, until the joggers were about 10 yards in front of us. Figures.

They went to pass us in the oncoming lanes but two cars were there to pass us from the other side, so they jumped back into our lane, ruffled and surprised that they lacked the foresight to plan ahead while jogging in traffic 🙄🙄

Two of the joggers gave us a quick wave and went around us when the cars passed, while the third threw up her hands, clearly pissed.

“Thanks a lot! We’ll just jog in the mud!” She barked as she huffed past, and I could feel her contempt as she mentally beamed her resentment at us.

Um, what??

Well, here’s Mr. 9 Year Old in our evening walk in the blistering wind:



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