Jammin' on the James

Canal Basin Square exhibits show bateaux and packet boats, which once were common means of transporting goods and people on the river. There's a replica of a packet boat, which was pulled by horses harnessed single file to a towline attached to the boat.

March 6, 1865, changed Scottsville. Union Gen. Philip H. Sheridan's cavalrymen occupied the town to cut off supplies to Confederate troops. They disabled canal locks, burned warehouses and confiscated food and horses. On March 10, they left for Petersburg to pursue Gen. Robert E. Lee's army.

In the Scottsville Museum, across from the levee, a small Civil War section recalls that era in the town's history. Another exhibit focuses on World War II.

Scottsville's oldest African American congregation (circa 1865) is Union Baptist, which worships at a whitewashed building on Hardware Street. If you want to see inside the town's five historic churches, go on a Sunday.

Downtown buildings, some in the late-18th- and early-19th-century Greek Revival style, house small shops. In the window at Coleman's Outdoors there's a stuffed black bear, a gift from a customer, according to employee Lee McGuire. "I heard it cost $2,500 to stuff," he said, grimacing. Coleman's has no computers but lots of fishing poles, rifles and ammunition.

The busiest store is Dollar General. Sports 'n More sells a Monopoly-like Scottsvilleopoly game for $10. Country Blessing's Grocery and Deli has opened with local produce and home-baked pastries.

For entertainment, check the Victory Hall billboard. The second Friday evening of each month, musicians gather for an acoustic jam in the theater there. When I went, 16 violins, mandolins, guitars and banjos and a bass churned out mostly country tunes. One singer was an 8-year-old boy.

But I yawned. It was time to find the James River Inn. "Watch out for the deer when you drive in, and the wild turkeys," I was warned when I booked. The inn, on 91 wooded acres, is perched on a cliff three miles outside town. Getting there meant driving on a mile-long gravel lane that dips and bends. Fleacollar, the dog, announced my arrival. I was the only guest.

The breakfast view was incredible: From a deck high above the James, I watched a lone kayaker while the inn cat sniffed my raspberry-nut rugelach. Then I trudged down 242 uneven steps to the river. Afterward, Fleacollar joined me on trails.

Saturday mornings, the farmers market at Dorrier Park is the place to be. It draws only about 15 vendors, but they offer such goods as flowers, grass-fed lamb and free-range poultry. I bought heirloom tomatoes, fingerling potatoes, Jennifer Page's sourdough baguette, Lisa Bittner's whole-wheat loaf and Helen Barker's old-recipe peach jam. Even Frances Kerr's zucchini-blossom soaps (from $1.25) smelled edible.

I drove to Hatton Ferry, about five miles from downtown Scottsville. It's one of the last "poled" ferries in the country, meaning poles are used to guide it. It has run almost continuously at this site since the 1870s. People can ride free on weekends, but it wasn't running when I visited; the water was too low.

Last, I stopped at First Colony Winery in Charlottesville. I left with a price list and plans to return with a designated driver.