Her own town exists on tourism (158Cong.Rec.H5873)

The good things about friends coming to visit is that you have a good excuse to play tourist. The bad thing about playing tourist is that you have to be with other tourists. One of TJ's friends and his wife -- well, really, they're my friends, too -- came to town during the long Columbus Day weekend for a beer-making session. The problem is, so did a lot of other people because it was the weekend of the Army 10-Miler, in which more than 25,000 people run around major tourist attractions, such as the Pentagon, Lincoln Memorial, and Kennedy Center. (The field was much smaller when TJ ran the event's shadow run in Pakistan last year; I was a marshal for the course, and I'd guess no more than 40 people raced. The tourist attractions along the course were also substantially less note-worthy.)

In part to avoid the onslaught of tourists, we hit up some of the less-popular sights. The day before the race, we managed to find some solace in the regional garden outside the United States Botanic Garden, which is across from the Capitol, whose rotunda is currently undergoing repairs (left). Inside the conservatory of the garden, many tourists had sought refuge from the chilly drizzle outside, but the beauty and scent of the orchid room made it easy to ignore the crowds (right). 

Across the road from the gardens is the newest monument along the mall: the American Veterans Disabled for Life Memorial. It must not be well-known yet, as very few people were taking advantage of the heat wafting off its eternal flame (left). The crowds were much more condensed at the Library of Congress (right). Perhaps a need to control all the people accounted for how grouchy the reading-room security guard was.

We perused the "Exploring the Early Americas" exhibit until our blood sugar ran low, at which point we strolled down to the surprisingly dead Capitol Lounge for snacks. This was not a new haunt for me, but I did get to experience my first DC build-your-own Bloody Mary bar. Refueled and fleeing impending college-football madness, we walked to the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, which was about as peaceful as, well, a college football game. Our claustrophobia allowed us to see only the "What Does It Mean to be Human?" section before we wanted to escape from our fellow humans. Despite what the exhibit asserts, being human, at least at the museum, apparently means staring obliviously at screens instead of looking at educational displays.

After a fast-paced day downtown, we were ready to return to simpler times. On the day of the race, we relaxed with a slower pace at Claude Moore Colonial Farm (left). Tucked away in a quiet knoll off the George Washington Parkway, the farm is staffed by a bevy of period re-enactors willing to explain the daily life of the working class back in 1771 (right). On the day we visited, they told us how they were preparing for cold weather by stringing beans to dry and waterproofing the house with pitch.

We also encountered some animal re-enactors, including some very tame turkeys who were not scared of us at all, even though Thanksgiving is fast approaching (left). One of the farm's Ossabaw Island hogs ran right up to greet us, but after he realized we didn't have any food, he turned his attention to something more suited to his interests: the feed bin (right).

In need of our own feed, we dined at Pork Barrel BBQ, a newer addition to Del Ray, the old stomping grounds of TJ and me. All of our taste buds must have been subconsciously touched by that friendly pig, as we all downed some version of pork (left). Our intention was to head down to Mount Vernon, but we got sidetracked by a detour to Port City Brewing (right). After a flight of six tasters -- Downright Pilsner, Northwest American pale ale, Ways & Means rye session IPA, Maniacal double IPA, Porter, and Colossal Two smoked imperial porter -- there didn't seem to be enough time to dedicate to really touring Washington's home.

Instead, we settled for seeing Arlington House, built by Washington's "adopted" son George Washington Parke Custis (as in Martha Custis) and later home to Gen. Robert E. Lee. The estate, now a museum, is located within Arlington National Cemetery atop a hill above the grave of another Robert, the Kennedy one.

Just a weekend later, without friends to show around, we decided to continue touring our area. In a bit of deja vu, we picked up BBQ from Bad to the Bone Smokehouse to eat while we tried the offerings at Old Bust Head Brewing Co. (left). But this time, we were more tolerant of crowds as we lined up to try the Wildcat English IPA, Virginia Hop Harvest smoked IPA, Chinquapin chestnut porter, Chukker Czech pilsner, and Old Jail pumpkin ale (right).

The brewery is located within the property of Vint Hill Farms Station, a former country estate that was converted and used as an Army intelligence and electronic warfare facility until 1997. One of the buildings at the facility is home to the Fauquier Community Theatre, which provided the perfect setting for "Far from Home: A WWII Canteen Show." The variety-show musical was a collection of performances by re-enactors from a later period; we went to see my cousin show off her singing chops as Doris Day.

We got in on the last weekend of performances, so unfortunately, my father, who is coming to visit soon, did not get to see the show. And another friend of ours is coming to town later in the month, so fortunately, we will get plenty of opportunities to "play" tourist in the coming weeks.