My Shallow Stonehenge Experience (I love it!)

by Jeff Dugan

As a boy growing up in West Baltimore, my brother and I constantly dreamed of faraway places. Our first family trip to Ocean City thrilled me with the excitement of an exotic destination. I was surprised when I didn't run into someone from France on the boardwalk.

Hot summer nights were usually spent around the backyard picnic table. Bursts of cheer and woe came from across the alley each night as our neighbors listened to the Oriole games on the radio. I imagined myself on a verandah overlooking a swirling sea somewhere in the South of France and the cheers were coming from a nearby casino.

I guess I had a passion for the tuxedoed life that was somewhere far from Irvington. My brother and I developed an imagination for high adventure. We would swagger and pretend that we were secret agents like James Bond or the Saint, dashing off to palm lined beaches, slugging it out with the forces of some unknown foreign adversary in front of the Sphinx or the Taj Mahal. Usually, as with an older brother, he was the adversary and I the object of slugging. But those childhood escapades left me with some basic desire to see the exotic mysteries of the world.

Ever since that trip to Ocean City, I had it in my young mind that a car could take me places. In the spring of 1976 I took Drivers Ed in high school. Our practice route took us up Charles Street and it coincided with that certain beautiful two week period when the cherry blossoms come out each year. I was all the more convinced that car travel could be cool.

It's been years since that first liberating taste of independent travel but I still remember the feeling vividly.  Luckily I landed a job that allows me to travel a bit.

One September a few years ago I was in a car speeding down the rural roads of Western England.  I was in the car with two great friends of mine, Tom and Ray. We were in England on assignment, taping a television documentary and the trip was already great. Now we were headed to fulfill one of my childhood fantasies.

This was going to be great, I thought. Face to face with one of the ancient mysteries, a real journey to a remote place of intrigue. Only there was one thing I didn't want to admit. One thing I kept to myself. Deep inside of me there was a little boy saying that I would do this before my brother did.

Years earlier I had beaten my hot shot brother to Europe first, saw the Coliseum in Rome, romanced on Capri, and tossed a few francs at the casino after sipping a drink on that verandah in the South of France. The truth was that I was living a princely dream on a pauper's budget - but I'd never tell him those details. Believe me, no matter how old you get, there's nothing like scooping your older brother. As kids he always knew more than I did, had more authority, swung more family clout. He was learning about neat stuff first - and bragging, mixing fact with whatever twist was convenient at the time. I could rarely counter his accusations, being six years younger and less informed. He regularly blew knowledge in my face like intellectual cigar smoke. Now, I was going to beat him out at something totally cool. I was going to Stonehenge.

Ahh, cheap sibling rivalry at its finest.

Understand that it's not really easy to get to Stonehenge.  I'd been to London before but Stonehenge is a real schlep. It's not a stop on the way to anything - it's a destination. And now the road was sliding under my wheels towards it. The pyramids, the Eiffel Tower and the Taj would all have to wait. I was going to be the first in my family to contemplate the inexplicable 20 ton stones that rose up from a fallow field. Woo Hoo!

Stonehenge. The song from the movie "Spinal Tap" echoed through my brain. Stonehenge! Stonehenge!

Driving south along the swift two-lane highway I was filled with anticipation. The sun was blazing warmly across the open road. I knew we would be upon it soon.

I breathed deeply of the English countryside as the air wafted through the car.  The road sank and curved as we approached a big hill. To the left were fields of grass, bent from the relentless wind. Sheep grazed as if frozen in time, oblivious to our speeding by in anxious anticipation of our goal. Adrenaline fueled us as we crested the hill. Suddenly, as if in a burst of light, there it was, rising up before us: Stonehenge!

And there it was. I can't figure out how they got those stones there.

Oh. Please don't tell my brother I got there first.  I want to see the look on his face.