From Villa Appalaccia to 2 Witches

Last week, our good friends Bob & Yvonne invited Brugger and me to accompany them to Villa Appalaccia Winery on Saturday for a day of wining and dining; it goes without saying we were not wont to refuse. Villa Appalaccia, just off the Blue Ridge Parkway in Floyd County, has long been one of our favorite destinations for spirits and good times. Brugger and I typically visit in the fall, just before Halloween, but we've been known to head that way whenever the mood takes us. It sure took us this weekend.

 

We rode up with Bob & Yvonne early afternoon on Saturday and, once at the winery, met their friends, David & Mary, who are originally from Venezuela. Kimberly and I had made their acquaintance at a couple of other gatherings at Bob & Yvonne's, and we were pleased to see them again. Nice folks, and during one of the hired musician's breaks, Mary stole the stage, grabbed a guitar, and went to town. Fun. We ordered a few of Villa Appalaccia's excellent paninis for lunch and accompanied them with a variety of wines. Good, good stuff all around.

 

We headed back toward Martinsville late in the afternoon and stopped at Lovers' Leap, probably the most famous and scenic overlook in the state. Over the years, I have visited there countless times (one year, in fact, Brugger stumbled into some bear shit there), and the view is still incredible; however, recently, construction to widen US Highway 58 in that area has utterly destroyed the surrounding scenery. Distressingly, much of the devastation has nothing to do with the road itself but the horrific greed of the logging companies, who have deforested countless acres along the highway. It's an infuriating disgrace, and as far as I'm concerned, the motherfuckers responsible ought to be flayed alive.

Good times at Villa Appalaccia. Old Dude, Ms. B., Bob, Yvonne, David, Mary

L: Stella Trudel, the contracted performer; R: Mary, rocking out during Stella's break

A view from Lovers' Leap

On cheerier subjects, on Sunday, Kimberly held one of her regular arts & crafts group gatherings at our place, and friend Terry came along with his wife, Beth, so that he could accompany me (just for the hell off it) to a geocaching event at 2 Witches Winery & Brewing Company in Danville. Some years ago, Brugger and I frequented 2 Witches, but now, it's been quite a few years since we haunted their halls. Both  Terry and I, like most of our geocaching friends, opted for the beer. It turned out to be a large and enjoyable event. Several cachers of my acquaintance whom I've not seen for many years showed up, so in some ways, it felt like a most welcome reunion.

 

In the coming week, both Brugger and I have a lot of work to keep us busy, though not necessarily out of trouble. Whether in or out of it, I'll probably write about it. So, until then, peace out.

Tom (Skyhawk63); Audra (Homestyle, our hostess); Ken & Jennifer (the Alethiometrists)

Tom (Skyhawk63), Audra (Homestyle), Lynn (Spring1), Tom (Night-Hawk), young feller (Hoagland Hunter)

A Helluva Weekend

Given the dearth of nearby geocaches I've yet to find, it's always a treat to see new ones published that aren't that far away. A trio of new caches popped up on my map Friday — out in Floyd County, about an hour northwest of here. Since I couldn't get out there at the time, I got up early on Saturday morning, grabbed coffee and a danish at the nearby Valero Fas-Mart (their coffee does rock), and sallied forth onto the shadowy backroads. Long ago (the 1970s) and far away (about 20 miles), I attended Ferrum College, and I frequented these backroads, usually seeking the influence of what some might consider illicit substances. There was a commune called Travianas in this area that I used to visit frequently, and I read not all that long ago was still in existence. I don't remember exactly how we used to get there, but I was pretty close to the location, though.

My destination was a place called Riverstone Farm, a gorgeous place in the middle of nowhere, more or less, with a little store where you can buy their fresh produce, and it's all on the honor system. You weigh your produce, fill out your own sales slip, and drop your money in a slot. I picked up a couple of fabulous fresh tomatoes, which weighed over a pound, for $5. And I got first-to-find honors on all three of the new caches, each of which was nicely done. I so appreciate geocaches that lead me to such splendid locations that I would surely never have discovered otherwise.

On my way home, I stopped for lunch at the Railway Café in Bassett. A delicious fried chicken sandwich and a much-needed cold iced tea. Damn, it was hot out there.

The Riverstone Farm produce store

Trail along the Little River

A purty trail view

Last night, we saw the news of Donald Trump getting winged by a shooter. I've seen all sorts of conspiracy theories, lots of anger, and all too much true hate, enough to be totally overwhelming. I have a lot of things I can say on this issue, but not here and now. A bit later, I will.

This morning, again I rose early, grabbed coffee and a danish at the nearby Valero Fas-Mart, and hauled myself down to Burlington, NC, where I met friend Scott (a.k.a. Diefenbaker) for a day of caching in Hillsborough. As it has been lately, it was hot out there. Fuckin' hot. We both added quite a few to our total number of finds, including a bunch along the Eno Riverwalk. Another gorgeous location I enjoy visiting, and — as we usually do when in the area — we grabbed lunch at Hillsborough BBQ Company. Smoked chicken wings for me today, and damned good.

My favorite find of the day was probably the very photogenic black rat snake we ran across at Blackwood Farm Park.

I've no idea what level of madness our country and the world will reach this week, but I've no doubt it'll set a new fucking record.

A nice black rat snake we happened upon

Train trestle over the Eno River, viewed from the Riverwalk

Another view of the Eno

The Parkway Pilgrimage: Better Late Than Never

Not that I'm complaining — not even a little bit — but since Kimberly and I were otherwise engaged conquering several countries in the Mediterranean during the month of October, we missed our traditional pre-Halloween vittles-and-vino pilgrimage to Mabry Mill, Villa Appalaccia, and Chateau Morrisette on the Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia. Then November turned out to be a whirlwind of both happy and sad personal obligations. Thus, we resolved to undertake a make-up pilgrimage at the earliest possible opportunity. That meant today.

Last night, Ms. B. and I left work, bound for the old homestead in Martinsville, where we took care of some necessary business, then enjoyed dinner and a movie. This morning, unfortunately, our favorite slapjack breakfast was right out, as Mabry Mill closes for the season at the end of October. Regardless, we made do at home and then set out for the mountains. I stopped for a fun, aptly named geocache near the Blue Ridge Parkway ("Is It Really Possum?" GC88JWD), and then drove up to the site of Floyd Fest, where, some months ago, a couple of caches had been placed. The Virginia geocache reviewer subsequently archived them for not conforming to geocaching standards, but I had a sneaking suspicion the containers might still be in place. So, playing against the odds, I set out on the hunt. Not altogether unexpectedly, I came up empty-handed. Well, drat! At least it was a worthy attempt, and I got in some strenuous exercise going up and down (mostly up) the mountainous terrain.

From there, Brugger and I made the very short hop over to Villa Appalaccia, which is under relatively new ownership. Their wine, as always, proved itself exceptional. The dry reds — a delicious Sangiovese, a refreshing blend called Rustico, and our perennial favorite, the Aglianico — all put to shame the multitudes of wines we've sampled in Virginia and North Carolina. That said, once we headed over to Chateau Morrisette, where we had lunch reservations, we found that their 2017 Petit Verdot, a varietal I've always appreciated, rivaled Villa Appalaccia's best. Chateau Morrisette typically makes decent if unexceptional wine, but this one — bold, full-bodied, and aromatic — did not taste like "Virginia wine," which, much like wine from North Carolina, tends to have a distinctive, young, juice-like flavor and thin mouth feel. We've generally gone to Chateau Morrisette more for the food than the wine, but today we found the best of both. Lunch consisted of a delicious Cobb Salad for Ms. B. and a perfectly done medium-rare house specialty burger for the old feller. Excellent service topped off a most satisfying meal.

So, better late than never for a Parkway Pilgrimage, though I did really did miss the slapjack breakfast at Mabry Mill. The mill and restaurant reopen in the spring, so I reckon the nice lady and I will have to add another required pilgrimage to our schedule. I reckon I can deal with that.

A couple of happy folk with happy wine at Villa Appalaccia

Our lunchtime view at Chateau Morrisette

The Haunting of Stonewall (Episode 4)

Every fall season, the Blue Ridge Mountains of southwestern Virginia are subject to some extremely frightening visitors — specifically, Ms. B. and me —  and this year we made another of our Halloween pilgrimages to Stonewall Bed & Breakfast, not far from Floyd, VA, that we might spend a couple of nights in the cozy, secluded View Cabin, pictured above, some distance up a winding trail from the main house. If I'm counting right, this was our fourth visit, all but one of which have been during the Halloween season — our second was over New Year's 2011/2012 (see "Stonewalled") — and there's no better place to spend our favorite holiday than in the remote, spooky woods, with several scary movies at our disposal. The cabin itself is a rustic little place: just a single room with a bed, a wood stove, TV and DVD player, and a nearby outhouse for taking care of personal business. Proprietors Scott and Sally Truslow do a wonderful job of managing the property, providing the best, most opulent breakfast spreads one could imagine, a full bathroom for those times you might prefer not-so-primitive facilities, and several dogs and cats that make you feel like one of the family. I hope it is not sad news for us that Scott and Sally are looking to retire and sell the place in the not-too-distant future, as they've been at it for quite a long while. It would be great if someone should purchase and maintain the place so we can continue our favorite tradition, but for now we must leave that for the future to decide.

Kimberly and I headed out early on Friday, 10/28, and after stopping for a geocache near the NC/VA state line, we made our way to Villa Appalaccia on the Blue Ridge Parkway for some first-rate local wine and a picnic lunch. It would not be out of line to say the weather proved a little too perfect — for our entire sojourn, we suffered the most ungodly, un-Halloweenish weather I have ever experienced, with nothing but clear, sunny skies and temperatures in the 80s. Awful, just awful for this time of year. Give us chilly days and nights, with lots of fall colors and the distinctive smell of autumn. Except for the relatively cool nights, this weekend was just another few days of summer. Bah, humbug, bunkum, and tommyrot.

The hidden terrace at Villa Appalaccia Winery

Old fellow at overlook above Rock Castle Gorge on the Blue Ridge Parkway

For our first evening's dinner, we hied our asses to Chateau Morrisette, several miles down the Parkway, for some all-around excellent fare, with a bottle of their Archival I red blend, bison meat loaf with smashed potatoes and collard greens for me, wild mushroom and arugula flatbread for Ms. B, topped off with a glass of their rather potent Heritage port wine. Upon our return to the cabin, for some light entertainment, we put on The Houses October Built, about a group of thrill seekers searching for the most extreme haunted attraction in the country. Not exactly a modern classic, but props to the movie makers for offering a few genuinely chilling scenes and disturbing characters. Most apt, given the current spate of supposed creepy clown sightings, that one of the scariest characters in the movie was indeed a clown.

The next morning, following one of Scott's classic breakfasts featuring eggs, sausage, broccoli quiche, biscuits, coffee, and orange juice, Ms. B. and I decided to work off at least the orange juice with a long hike through Rock Castle Gorge, which we've done several times in the past, though this time, sadly for me, there was no geocaching involved in the gorge itself, since I have already claimed all those that have been placed there (happily, there were a couple of other caches in the vicinity to hunt, which I did find, and we met a pair of friendly local geocachers in the process). Kimberly and I did put a couple of calories back on when we stopped for a trail lunch, comprising the remains of the previous day's chicken salad picnic. One of my favorite locations along the trail is the Austin House, the only private property remaining in the gorge, exactly one century old this year, and still inhabited by family members of its builder. The place truly looks to be straight out of H. P. Lovecraft's "The Whisperer in Darkness," but I recently based a short story of my own, titled "Willow Bend," on this precise location. Yes, rest assured that I will post a notice if and when it gets picked up and published. Here's hoping, as I believe it turned out to be an effective, rather eerie ghost story. I finished it just a couple of weeks ago, anticipating visiting the actual location again.

On the trail in Rock Castle Gorge

Following the gorgeous gorge hike — in unseasonable, disagreeable 80-degree temperatures — we returned to the cabin and spent a leisurely afternoon on the premises, me banging on me guitar, Kim working on some pen-and-ink and watercolor renderings until the sun went down, when we built ourselves a blazing hot campfire (also made damn near disagreeable by the ugly temps of the day) and roasted hot dogs and marshmallows — mind you, just to add a few extra calories after having been so drained of these things by our strenuous hike. To help bring us back into the Halloween spirit, for our evening viewing we put on It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and Guillermo Del Toro's The Orphanage, which neither of us had seen. While the latter film wasn't particularly scary, it was quite well done and possessed of eerie overtones that qualified it as a decent choice for Halloween viewing.

I might mention here that, as with past visits to Stonewall, we have been advised to make noise when on the trail hiking to and from the cabin, as bears are sometimes known to frequent the area. Well, true to our established form, we warned potential interlopers of our presence by occasionally hollering "Bear!", which for the most part seemed to keep them away. I did see one bear hanging around yesterday afternoon, though. He was very small, gray, with a fuzzy tail, and appeared to be enjoying himself leaping from tree to tree, but since he never really bothered us, I didn't begrudge him his fun. Now, sometime during last night, Kim rolled over and her toenails bit into my leg, at which point I sat up and yelled "Bear!", figuring it was the only sensible thing to do. As you may infer, the View Cabin, as nice as it may be, doesn't come without its unique dangers.

This morning, Scott outdid himself with breakfast — eggs, bacon, bacon & broccoli quiche, pancakes, apple cobbler, more orange juice and coffee. Sadly, it was that time again, to pack up and head back to Greensboro. Coming home, I satisfied myself with hunting a single cache on the aptly named Goblintown Creek Road, though the cache itself was not particularly scary. Unless to you birdhouses are scary, and then it would be quite the fright.

Our Halloween retreat for another year is ended, though there's still another day before actual big event. I will be celebrating hard tonight, working in as many scary things as I can before it's all over and done with. Be afraid, my friends; be slightly afraid.

And don't forget to yell "Bear!"

In the foreground, a little rock cairn in Rock Castle Creek, a second one visible in the distance

The Austin House in Rock Castle Gorge, ostensibly the setting for my new ghost story, "Willow Bend."

A spectacular view from Rocky Knob on the Blue Ridge Parkway

Our parting view of the cabin this morning, a place at which I hope to yell "Bear!" again very soon.

Stonewalling for Halloween

Halloween weekend could hardly have been more perfect for Kimberly and me, as we returned to one of our favorite haunts in the world — the View Cabin at the Stonewall Inn, just off the Blue Ridge Parkway near Floyd, VA. Stonewall was our first getaway together, back in the very early days of our relationship, and we also spent New Year's 2012 there. For us, it's a place of pure magic: rustic, secluded, intimate, comfortable. No place could be better suited for us to celebrate our favorite time of year.

At "A Nice Place for Eternity" (GC248QW)

We even managed to start out on an ideal note, with one of the geocaches along our way taking us to a very old, scenic family graveyard out in Stokes County, NC. Here, while I sought the cache, Ms. B. made sandwiches for our lunch on the road. Cache log signed and lunch in hand, we continued on our trip into the mountains of Virginia. Upon arriving at the Blue Ridge Parkway, our first stop was Villa Appalaccia Winery, another of our favorite places for liquid refreshment, now blanketed with colorful leaves that the moaning breeze was plucking and tossing down from the trees with considerable enthusiasm. For my money, Villa Appalaccia's Aglianico is their standout red wine, and their Cabernet Franc comes in a close second.

Then it was on to Stonewall, which is owned by Scott and Sally Truslow, both hosts par excellence. Shortly after checking in, we were ensconced in the View Cabin, about a quarter mile up in the woods. When I say it's rustic, I do not exaggerate. There is electricity, but no running water. It's a single room with a bed, a wood stove, a TV with DVD player, a porch swing, and an outhouse for taking care of personal business. Now, down at the main house, there are two dogs and three cats, which make one feel very welcome and also help take the edge off missing our own critters during our stay. It's a step above tent camping, to be sure, but for the most part, it's pretty primitive. And I just can't imagine a better place to be than out there in the woods on Halloween night.

Heating up by the campfire

For dinner that night, we journeyed forth to Chateau Morrisette, about ten or twelve miles down the Parkway. Generally, it's another of our favorite dinner venues, and while we enjoyed it, there was a good-size crowd, and the staff didn't seem quite up to the task of managing it. Our dinner was a bit more than leisurely — Kimberly and I both had their specialty pasta, hers with chicken, mine with shrimp — but at the end of the day, to us, the lengthy wait proved inconsequential. Our server was great, the wine was superb (their Archival I red blend), and we didn't exactly have a deadline to meet. So we just enjoyed ourselves for the duration; returned to the cabin rather late in the evening; and, to honor personal tradition, settled into the porch swing with a bit more wine to commune with the Halloween spirits.

Ms. B. and a wee sapling we discovered in Floyd

Yesterday, we decided to visit the little town of Floyd, a few miles to the west. Back in the days when I attended Ferrum College, not too far away, I had a good many adventures in Floyd County, few of which I could relate with a clear conscience to the world at large. I've passed through the one-stoplight town many times over the years, but to the best of my recollection, never actually stopped there. Since there were four geocaches in town awaiting my attention, it was only proper to go on a little walking tour of the community. For the most part, I was quite taken with its character and some of the novel Halloween decorations about the place. Once I had found all four caches and signed their attendant log sheets, I followed Ms. B. into downtown Floyd's antique shop, which was enjoyable enough, especially since there were a few fun Halloween-themed items to be seen on display (note the photo below). Then we had a fairly late lunch at a rather artsy little place called Oddfella's Cantina, where the barbecue sandwiches we had equaled or exceeded in quality just about any we've found in North Carolina. The fries were pretty damn good as well.

Upon our return to the cabin, I spent some time on the front porch making a racket with the ol' guitarbox, getting my fingers and vocal organs geared up for Geowoodstack III, coming up Saturday next at the domicile of one Tom "Night-hawk" Kidd, where I anticipate horrifying the individuals in attendance with several less-than-uplifting musical numbers.

The office

Dinner last night was hot dogs and s'mores — hardly as elegant as the fare at Chateau Morrisette, but every bit as satisfying. And it just wouldn't do to spend another night in the cabin without a scary movie or two, so we put on Willow Creek, which I had seen a month or so again, but Kimberly had not. Say what you will about the movie itself, but it was apt entertainment for our dark, secluded little spot in the woods. We followed this with a few episodes of The Walking Dead. And there might have been a tad more wine in the bargain.

This morning, sadly, we had to take our leave of the place, after a weekend that zipped by so fast it really ought to get a citation for speeding. For me, there was scarcely a moment during which I wasn't feeling at least a smidgen of ecstasy, and while I shan't carry on about the many stressors that have recently seemed bent on doing me in, I can safely say that this particular getaway at this particular time may have extended my life expectancy by at least as many days as we were there — hopefully more.

And may there be far fewer years between this and our next visit to Stonewall than there were since our last.

Click on images to enlarge.

Villa Appalaccia Winery, viewed from our favorite spot in the courtyard

The author and his horny girlfriend, who drinks

Say hello to my little friend — a happy fellow we discovered in Floyd

A random corner of the antique shop we visited

Out in front of the Green Man Inn, Floyd, VA

A view of our front yard on this dreary morning, just before leaving