History envelops Westmoreland State Park like a thick fog off the Potomac. Human history surrounds it. Natural history is buried in it.

Westmoreland's 1,299 acres are the "X" on the treasure map of the Northern Neck's past. George Washington's and Robert E. Lee's birthplaces bookend the riverfront state park along Route 3. On Fossil Beach, treasure hunters regularly unearth 15 million-year-old shark's teeth, whale vertebrae and other ancient remains that have eroded out of Miocene-age sediments in the nearby Horsehead Cliffs.

A recent trip revealed all this but also treasures of a more immediate variety: a secluded fishing pond, near-empty trails and a chameleon-like ability to surprise visitors with varied habitats that seem as if they can't possibly exist there. These riches were as welcome as a fossil find and more surprising. Washington and Lee would have to wait for another day. Westmoreland has more than enough to keep the nature-lover busy.

After a tour from Park Manager Bill Jacobs, my wife, Jess, and I and our two dogs parked in a lot overlooking the mighty Potomac. Across the river, here a couple of miles wide, was Maryland's Cobb Island, the mainland and, farther south, Calvert Island.

The cliff we stood on was more than 100 feet above the river. In places, Jacobs said, it's as high as 150 feet. That's the first surprise Westmoreland offers. This is no coastal plain bottomland. Topography abounds. We discovered this as soon as we took off down the Big Meadow Interpretive Trail.

On both sides of the sandy path, the hardwood forest dropped off steeply. We hiked down to Fossil Beach, where park goers sifted the sand for fossils. Digging isn't allowed, but keeping serendipitous finds is.

The theory goes that about 15 million years ago, a shallow inland sea reached as far as Richmond. Aquatic critters such as sharks, whales and others died and were buried in what now is the sediment that makes up this area. Because towering cliffs are exposed, those remains constantly are being exhumed by wind and water.

From Fossil Beach, we hiked along Turkey Neck Trail next to a swampy area called Big Meadows. The trail was blissfully primitive and looked as if it doesn't get much traffic. We didn't see another hiker, though many people were down by the water at the park's two beaches.

Turkey Neck Trail eventually climbed out of Big Meadows through a stand of soaring white oaks, yellow poplars and hickories. Jacobs said parts of the park were logged not long before it opened to the public in 1936. This area clearly was not one of them. Jacobs pegged the white oaks' age at more than 250 years.

Westmoreland offers numerous options for outdoor-loving Virginians. There's a swimming pool, a snack bar and bait and tackle shop and kayaks for rent to explore the shoreline. Cabins and lodges are available to rent, and a few sites allow tent camping.

On the day we visited, kids and parents swarmed the pool and the nearby beach area, but it was the drive down there that was truly remarkable. Mountain laurel and ferns lined the steep hillsides sheltered from the sun by a high hardwood canopy. A creek ran alongside the road on one side. On the other, moss coated a stone wall built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s. If you were blindfolded and placed on this road with no warning, you'd think it was somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

After a snack overlooking the river, Jess and I rigged up the fishing rod and hiked to Rock Spring Pond. Jacobs said the pond was stocked with bass and sunfish years ago. More recently, catfish were added to help control the burgeoning sunfish population. The pond is not stocked regularly, however.

Lily pads come up to the banks of Rock Spring Pond on all sides, but the water was clear in the middle. I threw a couple of rubber worms around downed trees and other submerged objects, but the bass weren't taking. We stayed for a while, enjoying the relief from Richmond's heat and humidity. Even in the sun, it wasn't bad. In the shade, it was downright comfortable - another surprise we weren't expecting from Westmoreland.

By the time we got back on the road to Richmond, there was no time left to explore the area's human history. That was OK, though. We were more than satisfied with a day of hiking in solitude, fishing secluded ponds and watching eagles soar over 150-foot cliffs. It won't come as a surprise to anyone who's been there, but Westmoreland's place in Virginia history continues to be written today.
Contact Andy Thompson at (804) 649-6579 or outdoors@timesdispatch.com.