Sasquatch Joins a Book Club, Autobots Roll Out, & Other Caches

Scott shining his flashlight into a chimney where,
just maybe, that geocache is hiding

Last night, friend and regular geocaching partner, Scott (a.k.a. Diefenbaker), drove up from Asheboro, NC, so we could make a geocaching trip to Roanoke today. Scott and his wife, Jane, will be moving to the coast soon, so it's about to become a bit more difficult to get together than it has for past 15 or so years. I hope we'll have at least another chance before they take off more or less for good.

As the sun set last night, we sat out on the front porch and drank a little bourbon. Then we went to Wild Magnolia for dinner and drank a little bourbon. Afterward, I took him to a nearby cache so he could hunt it (and, of course, he found it). From there, we hit the ABC store to buy a little bourbon. Then we came back home and drank a little bourbon (this rather inexplicably became the theme last night; don't ask us how).

 

Much to our surprise, Mr. Moose, usually the shyest of the three cats, came out and started begging Scott for attention, which, of course, he got. Moose has had some medical issues over the past few months, but he definitely seems to be on the upswing. He sure didn't have any problem getting treats last night.

 

We retired reasonably late and got up pretty damned early this morning. We hit the road, stopped for coffee and danishes, and made it to Roanoke in about an hour. Our first target was just off the Blue Ridge Parkway, but that section of it was inexplicably closed (there's certainly no snow or ice left out there; it was 85 freaking degrees today, gack). So we switched it up and went after a couple of nice multi-caches not too far away. The final stage of one called "Sasquatch Joins a Bookclub" was at the local library, inside a Bigfoot-themed book, and as one might guess, it turned out to be one of the day's favorites.

Autobots Roll Out!

We had several favorites today, which was nice. So many newer hides are of the simple, park & grab variety, which is great for padding one's numbers, but generally pretty boring. Today, we ended up hiking well over six miles in some pretty rugged terrain, and now I'm kinda tired and sore. But it's a good tired and sore.

 

Another favorite was called "Autobots Roll Out," which was had a 4 out of 5 difficulty rating. The host was a 15-foot tall Optimus Prime sculpture made out of auto parts. And yes, the cache was somewhere on/in it. I've always said it's just as fine to be lucky as good, and that proved very true here. After only a couple of minutes, I happened to notice a certain something that looked a little off, and... YES!... it was the cache.

 

We found a decent lunch at Mission BBQ, where we had eaten the last time we were in Roanoke. Afterward, we went to seek a couple of more. However, our sole disappointment for the day was a cache hidden in a multilevel parking garage, which can often make for an entertaining hunt. However, in this case, we followed every clue as best we could, hunted for an hour, and still came up empty. Definitely NOT a favorite, though a future attempt to avenge it is not out of the question.

 

Then it was back home, and Scott returned to Asheboro. Mercy, it was a great day, and I really hope he and I can work in at least one more outing before the distance between us becomes too great.

 

Till whenever.

What do you suppose that strange man is looking for in there?!

A little fountain in the middle of the woods

L: Scott makes friends with Moose; R: Scott makes friends with a ceramic bird with a cache in it

We Don't Need No Stinking Trails! Redux

At the end of my day of geocaching in Roanoke with friend Scott this past weekend ("We Don't Need No Stinking Trails!" Saturday, August 23, 2025), my total lifetime number of geocache finds stood at 15,999. At the time, I hadn't been paying much attention to how much the trip was adding to my total, so I guess it was serendipitous that it provided me an opportunity to choose a location to hunt my 16,000th geocache.

Mind you, from Martinsville, I have to travel pretty danged far to find any caches, period, since I've been at this for...good lard!...over eighteen years. I ended up setting my sights on the Roanoke area again, specifically Explore Park, southeast of the city. It's an extensive, forested area with numerous trails and, let me tell you, lots, lots of elevation changes. The park maps indicated that getting from one cache to another via the winding trails oftentimes led one far, far from one's destination before heading back to it.

As you might infer, my trek today involved a lot of bushwhacking, so let's suffice it to say that I got my numbers, I found some cool stuff (including a Bigfoot-themed gadget cache, although, sadly the gadget was no longer operational), and now I'm so blinkin' tired I'm close to falling over, much in the way that Droolie falls over.

Ah, but it's all part of being a geocacher and reaching a new milestone. I'll take it because if I can't hike and cache, I'll be very unhappy.

Next milestone...17,000, and who knows how long that will take. Just hope I live to see it.

We Don't Need No Stinking Trails!

Trails? We don't need no stinking trails!

Last night, friend Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott) came up from Asheboro so we could get an early start on a geocaching trip to Roanoke this morning. He brought bourbon. So...there was bourbon for most of the evening. We did take a bourbon break to have dinner at the nearby Third Bay Cafe, which has THE best burgers in town, if not pretty much anywhere. Then there was bourbon.

 

We got up and hit the road pretty early. Once in Roanoke, we put in 4.5 miles of rugged geocaching, mostly up and down the sides of Mill Mountain. The photo above is the "before" picture. By the end of it, I didn't have the strength left to hold up my phone and snap an "after" picture (partly because I'd used my already failing arm and hand muscles to feed myself a delicious brisket sandwich at Mission BBQ). 

Hey, the shortest distance between two points, and all that. Trails. Ha!

(Maybe we should have taken the trails.)

Late addendum: I just realized that, after today's outing, I am one cache shy of my 16,000th find. Wowz.

L: A bona fide Bigfoot track! R: A friendly box turtle spotted along our trek

A nice view of Roanoke in the distance

L: A new bike trail under construction—looks challenging; R: Cripes, we're only halfway there!

A nice stream flowing through Fishburn Park

Signs of the Sasquatch and Others

This past couple of weeks have been stressful for both Ms. B. and me, sometimes in the extreme, with daily salvos of sheer lunacy from that fucking orange shitgibbon in the oval office. I've tried to find a good balance between staying informed and retreating to recharge my mental health. I'm pretty much picking my battles and avoiding the dreaded "doomscroll," as they say. But it's clear that we are in for unprecedented hard times, and, quite frankly, I'm not sure the country as a whole is capable of weathering it. Without question, many of us will suffer great (and such goddamn needless) hardship. On top of that, we've had a couple of expensive household breakdowns that aren't improving my spirits.

I'm focusing as much as possible on my fiction writing while also writing my senators and congressmen. We'll be taking a Caribbean trip fairly soon, which we reserved about a year ago, so I hope that will help with the recharging (though if we'd had any inkling at the time our income would be less and our expenses more, I think we would have changed our plans). Last night friend Scott (a.k.a. Diefenbaker) came up from Asheboro, NC, and spent the night so we could make a geocaching trip to Roanoke today. Scott hadn't found a couple of my nearby caches, so we hoofed it out to them, and he made the finds without help from me (meaning that, even though he's older than the hills, his geocaching eyes are still pretty good). Once back home, I made a killer batch of spicy Thai beef. And while we sampled several bourbons from the bar downstairs, we watched an eclectic assortment of music videos on YouTube, all of which elevated our spirits.

The No-Dead-Weight Irregulars at the famous
Mill Mountain Star

This morning, we headed out fairly early, drove to Roanoke, and met friend Natalie (a.k.a. Fishdownthestairs), thus completing our traditional trio, known to some as the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars. We spent most of the day at Mill Mountain, navigating its numerous trails on the hunt for geocaches of various types, including traditional, virtual, and Adventure Lab. Mill Mountain is best known for the almost 90-foot Roanoke Star at its summit, which is visible for many miles around, particularly when it is illuminated at night.

We put in about five miles on the mountain, with terrain that ranged from medium difficulty to downright rugged. Sadly, we bombed out on our very first hunt, as the cache appeared to be missing; however, for the rest of the day, we managed to claim all our targets. My favorite was a Bigfoot-themed cache called "Signs of the Sasquatch" (GC76KTA), although we never laid eyes on Bigfoot himself (even though, against the sign's admonition, we oftentimes left the marked trails).

When I was a wee lad, my parents took me to the Mill Mountain Zoo (although I have little memory of it), and when I was a student at Ferrum College, not too far from Roanoke, some friends and I drove to the top of the mountain and smoked pot in some secluded corner; but since then, I had never gone back. I didn't even know the zoo still existed, and we saw nothing of it today, not that zoos hold any particular allure for me.

After we had hiked ourselves out, we drove back down the mountain and found a late lunch at a nice little tavern called Fork in the Alley, where I went to town on their Inferno Burger and fries, accompanied by a Devil's Backbone Vienna Lager, all of which hit the spot so hard it about gave me bruises.

We snagged a couple of caches near the restaurant, and then set sail for Martinsville (though I very kindly dropped Natalie off at her vehicle rather than at some random spot a long way away, which Scott and I thought might be entertaining, at least until she killed us dead). Brugger had spent a long weekend in Hillsborough at one of her regular artsy-craftsy retreats, and she arrived home not long before we did.

So, I reckon we're as recharged as we're gonna be for a while. And this week, it's back into the trenches. Gird your loins.

View of Roanoke from the observation deck at the Mill Mountain Star

A massive rock formation high up on the mountain (yes, there is a cache hidden in there, which we found)

Big honking bikes!

Inferno Burger at Fork in the Alley

Ten Years, Ten-Thousand Geocaches

When I began Geocaching in early 2008, I had no idea where this activity would lead me. I just knew I loved the hunt, and that many of the locations to which these excursions took me were some of the most alluring sites I had ever experienced.

When I found my 100th cache, I never expected to actually make 500 finds. When I found my 500th cache, I was pretty sure getting to 1,000 finds was right out. When I found my 1,000th cache, 5,000 finds still seemed far beyond reach. And when I found my 5,000th cache, I didn't think I could live long enough to reach 10,000. Well, apparently, I have lived long enough because I found the big 10K today. (There are those who say I am addicted, and I would never dream of disagreeing.) Now, make no mistake, there are many Geocachers, of my personal acquaintance and otherwise, who have achieved many times this numerical milestone, and we all have our stories to tell about our respective journeys. Me, I would not trade a moment of the experiences I've had to reach this level of distinction, whatever that means to anyone else.

For this milestone experience, I wanted to select a cache that Ms. Brugger—who is not so much a Geocacher as a sometimes-unwilling accomplice—might find appealing enough to go after with me and thus turn the hunt into something of a celebratory event. Back at milestone #7,000, she had joined several of us for a beautiful and fun kayak trip down the Yadkin River, followed by wine at nearby Flint Hill Winery, and she had not thought to drown me or anything. So for #10,000, I wanted to come up with something that might be genuinely appealing to the lady.

It wasn't hard to settle on The McAfee Knob Challenge (GC2JJJD), as we have both wanted to hike to the overlook for some time. The plan we devised was to spend a Saturday in Roanoke; stay overnight at Hotel Roanoke, at which we had a marvelous time at SheVaCon some years ago; and hit McAfee Knob on that Sunday. Given my caching numbers and schedule, this weekend appeared to be best for the event. If you've read any of my recent blogs, you might have picked up on the fact that getting to just the right number caches without going over on a predetermined schedule has its tricky points. But things worked out, and so, yesterday, we made the trip from Greensboro to Roanoke, checked into the Hotel Roanoke as anticipated, and spent most of the day and evening wandering about town, seeking out good food and drink wherever we might. Highlights included 202 Social House, where I actually willingly ordered some white wine (hey, it was bloody hot outside); Alejandro's Mexican Grill & Salsa Bar, which we had discovered on our SheVaCon trip; Cedar's Lebanese Kitchen; and The Pine Pub Room at the hotel, which has a most wonderful bar.

The Hotel Roanoke, our home away from home for the weekend

Ms. B. with a fine Bordeaux, old Rodan with a very dirty martini at The Pine Pub Room

This morning, shortly after the ass-crack of dawn, we checked out of the hotel and headed to the Appalachian Trail on Highway 311, which was very familiar to me from years of traveling up that way when my brother lived in the area and bunches of used used to frequently go camping at nearby Craig Creek. From trailhead to overlook, it's a 4.4-mile hike, making for a damn near 9-mile round trip, presenting everything from easy to difficult terrain along the way. Since the forecast called for temperatures in the mid-90s later in the day, we came prepared to face the hated heat. Fortunately, on the hike up, the temperature was tolerable and we had a nice breeze for much of the way.

But then... we had not gone very far when a rampaging bear decided to attack us, but brave Ms. B., utterly disregarding her personal safety, leaped to my defense.* She ended up with a mauled arm, but thanks to her bravery, we escaped otherwise unscathed. After this, we also encountered a couple of skinks, a nice little northern ring-neck snake, and a garter snake, but these critters were friendly enough and wished us well on our endeavor.

Brugger, mauled by bear!

My target cache was located amid a concentration of huge, magnificent rock formations that rose from a veritable jungle of tangled mountain laurel, about a quarter mile short of the overlook itself. At ground zero, there was plenty of coordinate bounce among the massive boulders, but thankfully, it wasn't long before I managed to locate my quarry, well-concealed and in good condition. I dirtied up the log with my moniker, posed for a few photos of the occasion, and re-hid the container. Then it was time to continue to the summit.

The overlook is a rocky shelf along the summit of the ridge, with a small, precarious point that extends into space a couple of thousand feet above the valley below. On our ascent, we hadn't encountered all that many hikers, but once we reached the overlook, the place began to fill up quickly. Quite a few folks posed on the rocks for some dramatic shots, and a young gentleman was kind enough to snap a few photos of Ms. B. and me at the point. In my old age, vertigo is more of an issue than it used to be, so I felt compelled to keep some distance back from the edge. Regardless, the view was spectacular, the experience overall a rush and a half.

Eventually, our primary task completed, we made our way back down the trail, stopping at another cache known as "Dragon Isle," named for the rock formation that bears a striking resemblance to the fabled "Wyrm" of old. By now, our little feets were battered and sore, but I pressed on and climbed up the rock wall to face the dragon, while Ms. B. lounged about in the shade below, texting her friends a detailed account of how she had defeated a raging bear on the trail, saved my life, and ended up with a mauled arm.

It was a good story.

Now, I'm here to tell you, there is not a chance on God's green earth I will ever, ever reach 20,000 Geocache finds. Nope. But a mighty happy 10K experience this has been, certainly for me and hopefully for Ms. B., although I rather doubt the bear enjoyed it.

*She slipped on some loose rock.

Ms. B. performing the McAfee Knob Shuffle. Everyone is doing it!

Gorgeous view from the overlook, except for the old fart standing in the way

The snoozing Wyrm at "Dragon Isle"

Wee little hornet's nest in the eye of the dragon. No varmints came out to accost me, which was
good because Ms. B. was too pooped to save my life a second time.

Nearly a Non-Starter

It's always a treat to get together with writer Beth Massie and artist Cortney Skinner, who are two of the world's finest folks — well, mostly — and we've been hoping to work out a visit for quite a while. Ms. B. and I had calculated doing this thing a few weeks ago, but we ended up having to postpone our visit due to her cat suffering some unfortunate feline infirmities. Things on that front improved, so we rescheduled a trip to the Massie-Skinner homestead in Waynesboro, VA, this weekend. Everything looked good, so we took off work a bit early on Friday afternoon and hit the road.

About halfway there, the old Rodan Mobile decided it had had enough of the road for one night. After stopping for a cache just south of Lynchburg, VA, I put the key in the ignition to crank her up and go, only to be greeted by a wall of resounding silence.

Starter is dead. Graveyard dead. Beyond resuscitation dead.

Now, I must say, break downs suck — they SUCK — but if one must break down, one can only hope for things to work out as smoothly as they did this go-round. I got AAA on the horn — best investment I ever made, especially with all the history the Rodan Mobile has seen — and managed to reach a fellow at a garage, even though it was past their closing time. He said he could get to my car first thing Saturday morning, which was a blessing, since most of the shops we looked up were closed all day on Saturday. Ms. B. called around and found a decent enough hotel not too far away. The tow truck arrived within minutes and got us to the garage — and then the driver was kind enough to actually take us to the hotel after we got my car dropped off.

Once ensconced in our hotel room, Brugger and I checked maps for some nearby food. Ah... McDonald's. About a mile up the road. No sweat... we have feet. So we put them to good use and hiked up the way toward a late-night meal. Coming upon Spring Hill Cemetery — a large, very old, and agreeably eerie bone yard — was the evening's highlight. The gates were locked, so we couldn't go inside, but we had a great view of the stones and markers from just outside the fence. Quite enjoyed the serenity of the place after a rather stressful evening.

Yesterday morning, as promised, the garage guy promptly got a new starter put in. One quick cab ride later, we had a working automobile and soon enough were back on our way to Waynesboro. When we arrived, it was to find yet more fucked machinery: Cortney's computer had committed stupidcide, right when he was in the midst of a project with a deadline of immediately. Thankfully, eventually, he got things sorted out enough for stress levels to subside to critical. After a wee spot of geocaching with Beth and Brugger — including a most amusing visit to another graveyard — we went for a tasty Mexican dinner, a spot of ice cream, and a bit more caching.

This morning, it was off to Starbucks, where we met some more of our fabulous fiends from the area: Nanci & Phil Kalanta and artist Keith Minnion, who had provided some devilish art for Deathrealm back in the day. The shooting of shit and what not went on for some time, but then Nanci gleefully tortured us with a dramatic reading of Damn You, Demon! — the latest non-childen's children's book by Beth and her sister, Barb Lawson. Following this, we became embroiled in a long, profound discussion, which involved the waylaying of total strangers, about whether Starbuck's interior walls were painted brown or green. Unable to withstand this torture further, Ms. B. and I hastened to depart — but only after I found Beth and Cortney's geocache, "Queequeg" (GC4ARE1)... or Quohog or Hedgehog, or whatever it's called... which is on the premises.

The hunt for a couple of more caches took Ms. B. and me to a picturesque, rustic spot or two nestled in the mountains around Fairfield, VA, and then we hit Roanoke for a great lunch at Blues BBQ Company, which we had discovered last February when we were in town for Shevacon. And then, on to Valhalla Vineyards, atop a mountain just outside of Roanoke. As scenic as a location comes, this place. We quite enjoyed their wines, especially their 2007 Valkyrie — a blend of Cabernet Savignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Malbec and Petit Vedot — and 2001 Cornucopia blend, all of which come from their own grapes. The staff we met were quite personable, and Brugger and I would both recommend the place highly, with the possible caveat that quite a few of the clientele, at least while we were there, were ungodly rowdy and inconsiderate — some playing board games, which, at a winery, ought to be forbidden by at least thirteen statutes and a possible constitutional amendment. Hopefully, this was merely an anomaly, for a place as distinctive and atmospheric as Valhalla deserves more respectful treatment. It ain't no downtown bar and grill.

So, I'm back home now, where I've been trying to suppress food riots amid the feline general population for the past few hours. That's all kinds of rough, I gotta tell you.

The Leaning Table, or Shevacon 21 is History

Old dude at the leaning table, Blues BBQ Company, Roanoke, VA

Shevacon 21 officially ended today, and my final activity in Roanoke was to have lunch with Brugger at Blues BBQ Company, on Market Street, which served us the best barbecue I think I've ever tasted... and that's saying all kinds of something. The restaurant is in a very old building, and the floor clearly sags in places; our table leaned at an angle of about five degrees, which made for a most entertaining lunch experience — and, as the young lady said, it would have been even more fun if we'd had marbles to play with.

This year, I ended up spending less time than usual at the con and more time wandering Roanoke with Kimberly — snagging geocaches when appropriate, of course. I did participate in four panels, which all went swimmingly, and I quite enjoyed the dealers' room and art show. By all accounts, the programming went smoothly this year, with panels commencing and ending right on time, and con personnel typically on hand to reign in out-of-control aliens (though it did appear that a squad of Imperial stormtroopers crashed a Mardi Gras party in one of the banquet rooms; I hope there was no shooting, for the stormtroopers wouldn't have had a prayer). I understand the judges of the costume contest dilly-dallied far too long, but that particular activity is one for which I have little affinity, so I did not experience this frustration firsthand. My compliments to programming director Jeremy Stroup and his team, who evidently had things well in paw this year.

Creeple people enjoying drinks — and
frightening the passersby — by firelight
on the terrace of the Hotel Roanoke

For Kimberly and I, the weekend's highlight was the Hotel Roanoke itself, which hosted the con this year. We only stayed there Saturday night, since it's a bit on the pricey side, but its central location made it easy for us to get out and about and find myriad interesting corners in the downtown area. There's lots... and I mean lots... of choices for dining, and we discovered some distinctive and surprisingly affordable establishments. Besides the barbecue joint, we enjoyed Alejandro's Mexican Grill, Metro!, Thai Continental, and Wasabi's — not to mention the hotel bar, The Pine Room (which served as an officer's club in World War II). After dinner at Wasabi's last night, upon our return to the hotel, we discovered numerous lit braziers providing warmth out on the hotel terrace, so Brugger and I spent a quarter hour or so sitting in the frigid wilds of downtown Roanoke, sipping wine and martinis, and loving every freezing minute of it. Despite oftentimes painfully cold temperatures and roaring high winds, we walked just about everywhere (which, after some of these meals, was the only decent thing to do), and I have to say I enjoyed Roanoke's character more than I ever thought I would. In my college days at Ferrum, only a few miles down the road from there, I visited Roanoke frequently (on its original run, I saw Star Wars in theaters 23 times, most of them in Roanoke — I beg your pardon, I am not a geek!), and I've been back through there many times over the years, but I'd say the city has remade itself remarkably in the past two or three decades. Go, Roanoke!

I, for one, hope Shevacon will be back at the grand hotel next year, and that, for our part, circumstances are right for a return engagement.

That is all.

The Hotel Roanoke viewed from the downtown Railwalk; that wonderful covered walkway
more than once offered us some much-needed respite from howling arctic winds.

Return to Shevacon

I haven't attended Shevacon in Roanoke, VA, either as a guest or attendee, in several years, but I'm back for Shevacon 21 this weekend as a writer guest. It's at the Hotel Roanoke, which is a bit pricier than than your typical mid-size convention accommodations, but it's smack in the heart of downtown, in a scenic location, and close to lots of dining and other entertainment establishments. Drove up from Greensboro this afternoon — and as a matter of fact, yes, I did grab a slew of geocaches along the way; thanks for asking. I had just one panel this evening — "Short Stories: When Do You Expand and When Do You Stop?" — but I'll be on several more over the course of the weekend, and I've got plenty of copies of The Monarchs, along with Blue Devil Island, Other Gods, and The Gaki to foist on unsuspecting victims.

Here's the schedule for the rest of the weekend:

Saturday, February 9
"Beating Writer’s Block" — 2:00 PM–2:50 PM, Harrison/Tyler Room
"Dealing With Taboo Subjects in Writing" — 10:00 PM–10:50 PM, Harrison/Tyler Room

Sunday, February 10
"Creature Creation: Classic, New, or New Twist on a Classic?" — 12:00 PM–10:50 PM, Harrison/Tyler Room

When not involved with con business, I spent the afternoon and evening wandering around downtown, mostly hunting caches (found several), and taking in the character of the town. I used to spend a lot of time in Roanoke, but it's been many years, especially since I've visited downtown itself, and I'm finding myself quite taken with it. There's a walkway near the railroad tracks — aptly called the Railwalk — that describes a great deal of Roanoke's rich history, which I enjoyed walking but for the incessant, frigid winds that just about cut me into little pieces. I gotta tell you, this stuff felt just about like Chicago cold. Finally, I discovered a decent little Thai restaurant — Thai Continental, on Market Street — that quite hit the spot.

Back tomorrow.

Click on the images to enlarge.

The Railwalk information center

Looking south on Williamson Road, with Mill Mountain in the distance

The view east on the footbridge over the railroad tracks. The wind
just about swiped my phone out of my hands.

A view of the hotel, with St. Andrews Catholic Church in the background; as a younger chap, I was
more than certain Lovecraft's Haunter of the Dark lived there. Perhaps I was right.

Star City Stashes

Team emvirginia and Mr. Rodan

Headed to Roanoke, VA, this morning to meet up with three of the world's least despicable souls — Ms. Beth Massie, Mr. Cortaid Skinner, and Mr. Ben My-Name-Is-Not-Linus-Rothman — to do some serious geocaching. If you're visiting here, you probably know that Ms. Massie and I have collaborated on a couple of novels, including Dark Shadows: Dream of the Dark, and nowadays, most gratifyingly, we can occasionally collaborate on some serious geocache hunts. It was a gray day, and we had to dodge some raindrops now and again — particularly later in the afternoon — but we managed to make a most enjoyable circuit of southwestern Roanoke, snagging lots of park-n-grabs as well as a few more terrain-intensive cache hides. One of the best, if the not the best, aspects of caching is visiting all kinds of places I'd never find if I weren't hunting a little container with a piece of paper to sign inside. We discovered some beautiful neighborhoods, a fabulous mom-and-pop pancake house, and a patch of woods where certain of our party absolutely refused to go pee, despite a pressing need. Only got moderately wet as the rain set in, and the excellent company made this a day to remember fondly.

I'll never see a Hamricks' sign the same way again, that much I can tell you....

Mr. Mountainview and Team emvirginia

An emergency chopper arrives at Roanoke's Carrillion Hospital

Under the bridge downtown is where he logged his find.