Venturing beyond the strip malls

Broaddus Flats stretches along either side of Route 360 in present-day Hanover County. It was settled by Colonials in the mid-16th century. It takes its name today from a family that purchased the land in the late 19th century. (Don Dale photo, 2011)

I headed east for about an hour on Route 360 Friday on my way to visit an old friend who lives in King and Queen County. It's a beautiful drive once you leave the Mechanicsville strip malls behind.

A few minutes after you pass the last of the suburban hodgepodge, the road becomes increasingly rural. Then you reach the top of a hill that offers a breathtaking view of a flat stretch of farmland, studded with trees, that reaches some miles to the east, almost as far as the eye can see.

I've loved this view from the top of the hill almost all of my life. When I was a small child, I knew that when we reached that hill we were truly on our way to the Rappahannock River near Center Cross, where we spent summer vacations away from the heat and noise of the city. Once, as a young adult, I rode my Kawasaki motorcycle from Richmond to that cottage on the bluff overlooking the river -- and then back -- which once and for all showed me the wisdom of making the journey by automobile.

It wasn't until the 1980s that I learned the name of the flat expanse of farmland at the bottom of that hill. I was talking about what a beautiful stretch of 360 it was while I was having coffee one morning with a friend in the Café at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts.

"Oh, you mean Broaddus Flats," my friend said.

Since then I've learned that Virginians have been farming there since just a few decades after the first Englishmen arrived at Jamestown in 1607. In the 1990s, archaeologists began uncovering a mix of both Native American and Colonial American artifacts at digs in Broaddus Flats. (Native Americans lived on this plain adjacent to the Pamunkey River for thousands of years before Europeans arrived.)

The area has had a number of names over the centuries. It was purchased in the late 19th century by a planter named Rowland Broaddus, hence the name by which it's known today.

But even before I knew the history of the place, I knew that the commanding view from the top of the hill always gave me peace and even joy. It marks the end of suburbia and the beginning of a quieter, nobler part of Virginia.

As I reached the top of the hill Friday, it struck me that in all my 68 years I had never taken a picture of Broaddus Flats. I began to scout possible locations where I could stop the car safely and grab a few images of even a small part of this verdant countryside. I spotted a likely place, but it was on the other side of the four-lane highway that bisects Broaddus Flats. I made a mental note that this was where I would stop on the way back home.

After a pleasant visit with my friend in King and Queen County, I headed back to Richmond. The threat of rain hung all about, but only scattered drops fell. I stopped at a roadside stand and brought fresh local tomatoes, a few ears of just-picked corn, a handful of new potatoes and some yellow squash. (Friday night's dinner alone was worth the drive.) As I passed into Broaddus Flats, I drove more slowly and began to look closely for the location I had spotted earlier. There it was, near the long gravel and dirt road leading to the Old Church Hunt Club.

With darkening clouds racing above and raindrops falling intermittently, I finally took pictures of a portion of Broaddus Flats. They're decent images, but they don't do the place justice. I'll try to do better next time.