Decompression

Skyhawk63 (a.k.a. Tom) preps the boat for a day on Belews Lake

Last week proved a not-so-easy one, as I had to focus on taking care of several estate matters — both for my mom’s and my brother’s — as well as putting in considerable time on the home improvement front. So I took Friday off and joined geocaching mates Rhodorooter (a.k.a. Dave), Old Robgso (a.k.a. Old Rob), and Skyhawk63 (a.k.a. Tom) for a day of boat caching on Belews Lake, a few miles northwest of here. Tom needed to do maintenance on several of his lake caches, so he had offered to take the rest of us out there to claim them. We had hot, if otherwise agreeable weather, and the caching couldn’t have been much more fun. My favorite — “The Lonely Bison in a Tree” — was, in fact, a bison tube in a tree. The tree was too spindly to climb, too stout to bend down to retrieve the cache, so the answer was to use a ladder to get up there and grab. I happily performed the necessary deed, and I didn’t even fall down go boom.

Three of the four old farts on our boat outing: Old Rodan, Old Rhodorooter, Old Rob

Speeding toward the Duke Energy power plant on Belews Lake

After the trip, I went forth to the old homestead in Martinsville, with more estate business to handle. I had not been looking forward to it, but I concluded the matter (I hope) without undue complication (I hope), so on that count, at least, I am satisfied (I hope).

Saturday morning, I hastened back home to Greensboro, where I quickly fed cats and then headed over to Brugger’s place. We then made tracks for the Nelsons’ place in Kernersville, for they had plotted an outing to Roaring River Vineyards and Jones von Drehle Vineyards over near Elkin. At Roaring River, we had a lovely lunch on the deck, which overlooked the Roaring River (why, yes it did). The wine there is so-so, though we did take notice of a couple of the reds. North Carolina vineyards tend to do better at whites than reds, but here, the reverse was true. Having completed our task at Roaring River, we mounted up and moved on to Jones von Drehle. I had not previously heard of this winery, but they apparently have big hopes, for they are doing some extensive upgrading to the property, including constructing a sizable amphitheater for live music shows. The wines here had a little more going for them than Roaring River’s, particularly their Cab Sauv and a blend of Cab Sauv and Norton. Make no mistake — in no way could we claim anything but an enjoyable time at both vineyards, and I would not mind revisiting either or both in the not-too-distant future.

On the way home, Ms. B. and I made a few late-night stops on the outskirts of Kernersville to pick up some recently published caches. I was too late to snag the first-to-find honors, but that really made no never mind; it was nice just to grab a few quick caches at the end of the evening.

The view from the deck at Roaring River Vineyard & Winery

The Wild Bunch in the vineyards at Jones von Drehle: Old feller, Ms. B., Beth, Terry 

This morning, a smaller-than-usual group Socially Distant No-Dead-Weight Irregulars — Old Rob (a.k.a. Old Rob) and Old Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott) — joined me for a Chapel Hill geocaching outing. A few newer hides in the Carolina North Woods, which we have frequently roamed and cached, awaited our attention, and we managed to snag all those we hunted. We put in a reasonably rugged five miles, which tired us old folks out something fierce. So we hunted down and killed lunch at The Spotted Dog in Carrboro, which has long been one of our favorite eating/drinking establishments in the area. Scott and I both enjoyed spicy bloody marys (a bit heavy on horseradish!) and we worried a couple of big honking turkey burgers absolutely to death. Thus exhausted, we quitted Orange County and returned home, where I fell over and went bOoM.

How ugly! Old Rodan, Old Diefenbaker, Old Rob

Turkey burger too big even for big mouth!

Lastly — and sadly — I must report the passing of my old friend, Lars Ullberg, who had been one of our regular gang in my Chicago days of the 1980s. I had no idea he’d been having health problems, but apparently so. As of yesterday, he was expected to undergo some rehab, only to be given the news he would no longer be able to walk. Then, this morning, I learned he had passed away during the night. While it was nothing like our face-to-face good times from all those years ago, we interacted regularly on Facebook, and it was always a pleasure when he posted on my timeline. His last post to me was just a couple of days ago. I’ve seen so many friends and loved ones pass away in recent days, I begin to understand the depression my mom was feeling before dementia robbed her of her memories, good, bad, or otherwise. Just last week, at Pleasant Hill, I found an envelope of obituaries she had collected. It was like an encyclopedia of every adult I had known  — and felt close to — since my childhood. Almost without exception, Mom’s closest friends had preceded her in death. I reckon every living soul has this to deal with in some fashion, some sooner, some later. I figure I’m facing this aspect of life — and where it’s headed — as healthily as I can.

Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention....