Coincidentally, the campaign for a new territory transpired at precisely the same time that the son of a black slave named George Washington settled along the Skookumchuck River in said territory. (The Skookumchuck, literally “powerful water” or rapids, flows into the Chehalis River about 40 miles north of the Columbia River.) With his wife Mary, civic-minded George later donated a portion of his land for parks, a church and a cemetery in the city he founded there, Centerville, later renamed Centralia. George is buried in the same cemetery, though his memory lives on at George Washington Park in the center of town.

By 1853, Congress agreed to establish the bustling new territory, and many presumed it would be named Columbia. But a Kentucky Congressman and slaveholder, Richard Stanton, interceded, insisting on the name of our popular first president, who of course was also a slaveholder. And so it would be: Washington Territory. Nevermind the countless Native American settlements that had already existed here for millennia.

It’s worth noting that George Washington of Washington was prohibited from owning land in Oregon, due to racist laws on the books at the time. The new Washington Territory, however, had no problem with Mr. Washington owning a piece of Washington. To many natives, on the other hand, owning the land seemed an almost laughable proposition, like owning the wind in the mountains or the waves on the sea.

Moving on, a goodly chunk of the remaining Oregon Territory achieved statehood in 1859. Over the next three decades, promoters in Washington Territory pursued a similar dream. Some recalled the earlier Stanton foible and insisted the new state be called Columbia. Others suggested the State of Tacoma had a special ring to it as well. It at least recognized that others were here first. Tacoma (or Tahoma), the “mother of waters” (think snow and ice) was the indigenous name for Mount Rainier.

Some wanted no state at all, including many Democrats in Congress, who had agreed to statehood for Colorado in 1876, only to see its three electoral college votes in the presidential election later that year cast for Republican Rutherford B. Hayes, thereby turning the outcome of one of the most controversial elections in U.S. history. Democrat Samuel Tilden, who won the popular vote by a solid margin (51-48), would have otherwise become president. It was the only time in U.S. history that a candidate won more than fifty percent of the vote, yet lost the presidency in the Electoral College. The wounds would eventually heal, and in 1889 the spirit of George would be forever emblazoned upon the nation's 42nd state.

Watch for PART 2—Columbia, Meet Columbia. I’ll be posting it soon.

While living and working in the Washington, D.C. area for several years, I learned of the annual Cherry Blossom Ten-Mile Run held early spring in conjunction with famous bloom fest. I’d had the notion of running such a race for some time, with the idea that the training would make a fine strategy for good health generally, as well as getting myself back into shape for hiking. I was also curious if I could even run the first mile.

Notwithstanding some unplanned minor injuries, I finally made it to the starting line for the annual Cherry Blossom 10-Mile Run on April 7, 2013.  I hadn’t run ten miles since my 20s.  While I had also made the lottery for the 2012 run (a lottery because the event can’t accommodate all who would like to run), I contracted the flu the day before the race and had to bail at the last minute.  No such calamity in 2013.

Through my rigorous training regimen (not that rigorous), I’d built up the stamina to jog five miles without collapsing.  I figured I’d save the other five miles—and my knees—for race day. It’s worth noting too that the race is multi-divisional, with the fastest runners pretty much smoking the rest of us.

When we arrived at the National Mall shortly after 7:00 am, runners by the thousands were ambling or shivering or dancing around in their poly-skivvies trying to warm up in the crisp air.  Some danced in very long lines in front of a battalion of porta-potties, doing a hopping up and down thing, but perhaps not because they were shivering.

The race began in waves, with the world-class (think Kenya) and world-class wannabe runners departing first, of course.  Each wave—around 2,000 runners I think—congregated in their appropriate zone by color.  I was with the green bibs in the next to last wave, immediately after the orangies, but ahead of the purplies.

When the loudspeaker finally announced it was the greenies’ turn, our collective mass of runnerly humanity oozed forward a few inches, then an actual foot or two, before accelerating to baby steps and slow shuffling. The crowd was that heavy. I probably could have read the comic section of the newspaper by the time we achieved a normal walking pace, which was soon followed by an almost brisk walk.  Perhaps a minute or so into the “race,” we cleared the official start line and launched into an actual jog.

We were shoulder-to-shoulder and toe-to-heel by the thousands for the first couple miles past the Jefferson Memorial and over the Memorial Bridge and back.  Then it was up the river toward the Kennedy Center, a leg which seemed to drag on and rekindle my pre-existing doubt about even finishing the race.  Finally, we made a u-turn and passed the marker for Mile 3, almost a third of the way.  I pretty much stayed with the crowd, all of us cruising along at a 10-minute mile pace, give or take.

By mile 4, some us eased up a little to save some juice for the second half.  Then suddenly I was at Mile 6.  Whoa, how’d that happen?  While the first three miles had seemingly taken forever, the next three had gone by in a flash and I was still upright.  Six miles without a rest was my best effort in decades and I thought, holy cow, maybe I can do this.

At a water and Gatorade station near the Potomac Golf Course, I gave myself permission to slow to a fast walk while I drank a little, then kicked it into gear again for the final third of the race.

There were several race clocks along the route and I calculated my pace to determine what I would need to do to finish in under two hours, which was my own loose target for the race.  Not exactly a pace to be discussed in public, but good enough for me anyway. 

At a water station around Mile 8, it was apparent that I was not going to break the two-hour Ken barrier, so I slowed again to be sure I’d have enough left for the jog down the home stretch.  The main thing was simply to finish.  Nonetheless, I felt pretty good still and my body by then was just doing its thing.  It’s funny how I was so focused on the miles earlier in the race, then let my mind wander to other things as I plodded along on autopilot.

Then someone on the side of the road yelled “Only a half mile to go!” and I thought they were kidding. Yet up a short hill and around the bend, there was the finish line.  And a few yards before it, Kris was there to cheer me on and snap a couple photos of the historic occasion.  I showed off a little by semi-sprinting to the finish, then had to instruct my body to stop running. 

It was over.  I’d done the thing in just under two hours and three minutes.  That was plenty good enough for me.  I’d left more than a thousand other runners in my dust—never mind the 16,500 who left me in theirs.  But watch out.  Next time, I’m going for under two hours and a top 15,000 finish. And I’m gonna leave 2,500 shaking in their shoes.

You’re essentially too late to join the 2024 Cherry Blossom Ten-Mile Run on April 7th, but to enter the lottery for 2025, find all the details here.

For the best effect, listen through earbuds or headphones!

A quick heads-up on walking tours—

I’ll be leading small-group walking tours in D.C. this March and April during the 2024 Cherry Blossom Festival. Tours typically range from 90 minutes to 2.5 hours. All day private tours can also be arranged. All tour participants receive a free copy of my guidebook. Watch for dates and details soon—or contact me anytime to learn more.

Note that paid subscribers to Somewhere in the Weeds also enjoy significant discounts on tours, and can “Chat” with me directly with any D.C. trip-planning questions you may have.

Happy travel-prepping!

—Ken

If you’re looking for ideas on what to see and where to go, maybe my award-winning walking guide, A National Jaunt, can help. The book describes dozens of major sites and over 90 miles of the best walks and hikes in the greater D.C. metro area. The full-color guidebook is richly illustrated with maps and hundreds of photos, and has earned many positive reviews.

Included are the memorials and monuments of the National Mall, grounds of the U.S. Capitol, Library of Congress and Supreme Court, Smithsonian Museums, historic areas of Capitol Hill, Georgetown, Old Town Alexandria, the Potomac River and much more.

These are the same areas where I’ve enjoyed offering walking tours since 2018. Watch for details on upcoming trips, or reach out if you’re interested in a D.C. tour. The guidebook is only available direct from me, the author. To purchase a copy, visit tireddogspress.com/books/#jaunt. Fast, free shipping to the U.S. and Canada.

Also, if you subscribe to my Somewhere in the Weeds newsletter at the annual rate ($50/year), I’ll send you a free signed copy! I’ll be in touch once you subscribe. Subscribers also receive tour discounts, tips on travel, getting around D.C., avoiding crowds, unique events, as well as insights on how and when to visit the museums, iconic buildings, memorials, monuments and the rest!

Note to groups, resellers, hotels, event planners or… ??

A National Jaunt is also available in bulk quantities (by the case) with deep discounts to 75 percent while supplies last. Thanks to the pandemic and its impact on travel, we still have some extra inventory to liquidate. For more info on bulk orders (or tours), you can contact me here.

Washington, D.C. is an amazing place to visit. If you haven’t been, it definitely belongs on your bucket list!

Sample pages from A National Jaunt. . .

“Packed with maps and resources, “A National Jaunt” sets forth flexible game plans both for first-time visitors and seasoned natives who want a fresh perspective on our magnificent—and highly walkable—city.”

—Karen Lyon, The Literary Hill, Washington, D.C.

Before moving back to Bellingham, Kris and I lived in the D.C. area from 2011 through 2019 when I worked for a federal energy agency. I still love going back in the spring and/or fall, just to keep a toe in both oceans. (In summer, I lead history tours in Seattle.)

I’m still open to leading historic walking tours in the spring (if anyone has a group that would like to arrange something), including the National Mall, Capitol Hill, Library of Congress, Smithsonian Museums, Arlington Cemetery, Georgetown, Old Town Alexandria, National Arboretum, etc. These are small-group tours that run 90 minutes, 3 hours, or all day. We can talk about dates and details, as well as travel tips (you won’t need a car), what to see, where to stay, avoiding crowds, etc.

For those who don’t know me, I led small-group tours pre-covid for hundreds of visitors from all over the world. I never tired of sharing stories and making new friends while wandering among the memorials, iconic buildings and quaint historic areas, especially at night. Stunning.

Tour discounts and free signed books to paid subscribers. Feel free to get in touch if you’re contemplating a D.C. visit in 2024. —Ken

“It is sometimes called the City of Magnificent Distance, but it might with greater propriety be termed the City of Magnificent Intentions.” — Charles Dickens, 1842