From St. Augustine to the Bahamas, Part 2

Red Carpet Inn kitty

Monday, February 10, 2025
'Tis the day for leaving the land for the open seas. We didn't exactly rise with the sun this morning, but neither did we dawdle departing our Fort Lauderdale lodgings. Before we left, a local feral cat took up what we assume was his traditional lounging spot outside our door; he was not at all keen on being handled, but he appeared otherwise healthy and seemed comfortable enough around us (he probably knew we were cat people). I hope he will be okay for the long haul.

During our single-night stay in Fort Lauderdale, we had only a limited view of the city, and I'm sure there are plenty of lovely places for residents and visitors alike to enjoy, but we mainly experienced Just Another City in Florida, as apart from St. Augustine, they seem to blend one into another into another into another along the state's eastern coast.

 

Check-in on the ship went smoothly, so once settled into our suite, we headed for lunch in the Windjammer, the standard Royal Caribbean buffet-style restaurant on board. A very good martini accompanied. Afterward, Terry and I planted ourselves in the exclusive Crown Club lounge, (membership to which is one of the perks he & Beth have earned for cruising, like, a lot, and which fortunately extends to their guests of peasant status). We hung out for about an hour, drank coffee, and yakked until we both finally had to get up and go pee.

Dinner was in the main restaurant, and we secured a table in a nice, quiet corner where we met a nice couple, Andy and Mary Beth from Missouri. I had some excellent escargot and some sad fried chicken. Can't win 'em all, I reckon. The drinks were superb. Afterward, we settled ourselves in the Irish Pub, Hoof & Claw, for a couple of 1970s trivia contests, one for music and one for general history. Our foursome won both (these people are really old). Then we wandered about the ship, listening to tunes, dancing (well, some of us did; not me), and finally returned to our quarters for a hard crash and burn.

View of Fort Lauderdale from the lounge of the Liberty of the Seas, prior to departure

Tuesday, February 11, 2025
On a not-at-all-cruise-related topic, today is release day for my newest novel, The House at Black Tooth Pond, from Crossroad Press, in paperback and ebook, with the audiobook to come soon. Preorders have been healthy, and the response from those who've already delved into it is enthusiastic. To be sure, I hope this thing flies like Rodan, the Flying Monster. If you've been good enough to pick up the book, might I please prevail upon you further to leave a review, particularly on Amazon.com, since it is, for better or for worse, the most strategic sales outlet.

For Terry and me, our morning began pretty early. While Ms. B. and Beth slept in, he and I went down to Chops Grille, one of the ship's many restaurants, which offers free breakfasts to suite guests. It was fairly good—scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast, and lots of coffee; satisfying but not superlative, which is typical of cruise ship food. Afterward, we decided to try our luck at the casino. I've always been partial to Blackjack, so I spent 30 or 40 minutes at the table; I was in the black for a little bit, but as so often happens, I stuck around just long enough to lose a wee bit. Thankfully, it really was a wee bit. I've got lots of chips left, so I will be returning for a rematch, probably this evening.

I needed my regular daily exercise, so I did some laps around the ship until I reached my goal of 5,000 steps (and I put in a few extra). I've averaged over 9K a day on this trip, and by tonight, I will have no doubt put in quite a few more. The Liberty is not at all a small boat, so I get almost 1,000 steps per lap around the deck.

The gang decided that, since we have free room service in the suite, we should have lunch delivered. And we did. Smoked potato soup and butternut squash risotto for me. The soup was better than the risotto. We shared a couple of bottles of Italian red wine—an Amarone and a Nebbiolo—both of which were superb. Then some folks went for naps and some went for blogging. The latter might have been me.

Celebratory toast to the success of The House at Black Tooth Pond. Good wine!

Moon over the Caribbean, viewed from the lounge of
the Liberty of the Seas

As afternoon moved toward evening, we settled in at the Suites Lounge and had a few nibbles along with a couple of drinks. They make a killer gin martini here (several of them, as a matter of fact). We finally dragged ourselves over to dinner, and tonight I destroyed some delicious calamari and a seafood linguine, which was probably the best dish I've had on the ship so far. The service, as always, was exemplary. Andy and Mary Beth again provided pleasurable dinnertime companionship.

For afters, Terry and I again ventured to the casino, and this time I won at least most of my money back from this morning. There was a bourbon tasting at the nearby duty-free shop, but it was only a couple of shots of Jack Daniels green label and Jack Daniels single-malt, the latter of which was actually pretty good, though I didn't consider either a necessary purchase.

By now, we all had worked up a pretty good tired, so we retired to our quarters, where I finished up today's blog entry. All in all, an invigorating and satisfying day, particularly since the announcements I posted about The House at Black Tooth Pond seemed to be especially well received. Tomorrow, CocoCay in the Bahamas. And me, I'm bushed, so g'night.

Wednesday, February 12, 2025

Ship butts

We woke up to see the Royal Caribbean–owned CocoCay Port outside our windows rather than open sea. We had ordered a continental breakfast to be delivered to our room, so once we snarfed it down, we made our way down to the gangway and over to CocoCay. First target for me (and Terry, who accompanied me to make sure I didn't fall into the ocean and drown) was a number of Adventure Lab cache stages, which turned out to be quick and easy.

There are several beach areas on CocoCay, so we found a nice, shady spot for our base of operations. Brugger and I soon wandered out into the crystal blue water...which turned out to be pretty icy, at least at first. We heard—second hand, so I can't really verify it—that there was a shark watch for our beach, so we didn't paddle out but so deep, and not for too long. We saw no sharks, but Kim and I bounced a lot of lines from Jaws off each other. Mostly, we hung out on the beach, drank spritzes, and had a nice lunch from the nearby pavilion.

Mid-afternoon, we returned to the ship. Terry and I woke ourselves back up with a couple of mugs of Juan Valdez in the Suites Lounge, while our respective spouses took power naps.

Chill Island Beach on CocoCay

Royal Caribbean's Liberty of the Seas (our ship, on the left) and Voyager of the Seas (on the right)

Thursday, February 13, 2025

The view from our suite balcony first thing this morning

The Nassau Cathedral.
Do you see the geocache?

As is typical when we're on a cruise, we woke up to a new view outside our balcony this morning—a whole bunch of cruise ships packed in tight at the Nassau port. Ours was one of several already docked and another one—a Disney ship—came steaming in as I watched.

That meant the Nassau cruise port was crowded as motherfuck.

After another continental breakfast in our suite, I headed into town to hunt a few caches. There were several Adventure Lab stages, a couple of virtuals, and a physical cache, which lurked at the nearby cathedral. The sanctuary was the only place I found in this teeming madhouse of a town that was relatively serene; in fact, I sat in a pew for a bit so I could write my cache log. As far as caching went, success on all counts. Terry and Beth opted to stay on board the ship today, but eventually, Ms. B. arrived on the scene. We found ourselves a taxi over to nearby Paradise Island and the Atlantis Resort, which is a sprawling, luxury development, with a grand hotel, a massive outdoor aquarium, casino, shops, restaurants, a harbor full of massive yachts (none of them are mine, at least not yet), and a virtual cache.

Non-Euclidean horror guarding the entrance of
the Atlantis Casino; this might give me second
thoughts about gambling there.

Oddly, almost all the restaurants in the surrounding area were closed, even at noon. We finally found a tropical-themed spot called Sip-Sip, which was open, where I had some of the best chicken wings I've ever tasted. The server asked if I was okay with a lot of spice, and of course I am, but these really weren't that spicy. The flavor, though... hooooey! All kinds of good.

After our lunch, we navigated to the virtual cache, which is at the western end of the Atlantis, but I've gotta say, getting to that point from the eastern end took some doing. We went through the outdoor aquarium, which is in itself a labyrinth, but a very cool one. We saw sharks, manta rays, stingrays, horseshoe crabs, and all kinds of exotic fish. Eventually, we figured out how to reach our target, and I gathered the information necessary to claim the cache.

By then, Ms. B. and I had grown weary of the oppressive crowds, so we took a taxi (filled to the brim with people!) back to the port and fought our way back aboard the Liberty. I finally managed to revive myself with a shower and worked on the blog for a bit.

My impression of Nassau from today was not that favorable, but I might sing a different tune when the place is not so jam-packed with tourists (assuming there's ever a slow time). It's fair to say that Nassau has changed radically in the 60 years since Thunderball was made (it's one of my favorite James Bond films), but I admit I had the movie theme going through my head as I wandered the town caching. I'd certainly be willing to give the place another shot, if we ever have the opportunity, though there are certainly many other destinations I'd put well out in front.

Tonight, being our last night on board, we kept things pretty mellow. Terry and I visited the casino for a last fling, and for a refreshing change, I am coming home in the black, gambling-wise. I'll take it!

The cathedral interior; it was the only peaceful place I found in Nassau the entire day

A few yachts in the harbor near Sip-Sip at Atlantis

Holy cow, a spot that's not teeming with human beings!

Stingray at the Atlantis Aquarium

Old Dude and Brugger at the Atlantis Casino (we did not gamble).

L) Ms. B. hanging with another monster at the Casino; R) Pirate Republic ale at Sip-Sip

 

Friday, February 14–Saturday, February 15, 2025
Once we disembarked from the ship, we found a fantastic breakfast in Fort Lauderdale at Joe's Diner (which comes complete with signs bearing the iconic "Eat at Joe's" slogan). Since Terry and Beth have another cruise coming up in a couple of days, they had booked themselves a small AirBnB not far from the cruise port, and we accompanied them there to hang out until it was time for us to leave for the airport. Before heading out, Brugger and I walked to a nearby park and snagged a geocache.

At last, it was time to say goodbye to our friends. At FLL, Ms. B. and I checked in and found that our flights appeared to be on schedule. The first leg took us to Charlotte, where we had time for an early supper and a drink before the connecting flight into Greensboro.

Well, there was supposed to be a flight to Greensboro.

We boarded the plane on time, sat for a little bit, and then the pilot announced that the co-pilot had not shown up, so they were canceling the flight. As you might imagine, it was a disgruntled bunch of passengers that turned around and marched back off the plane. Only thing is, American Airlines had not officially canceled the flight, so the gate crew advised us to hang out for a while until they received the official verdict from the tower.

Yep, canceled.

So, we—along with everyone else on the flight—had to visit the customer service desk to make alternate arrangements. Charlotte is less than a couple of hours' drive to Greensboro, and numerous people decided to rent cars. However, doing so meant that American Airlines would not offer any reimbursement. They told us that if we rebooked our flights for the next day, they'd give us vouchers for a hotel, Uber rides there and back, and two meals at the airport restaurants. Our luggage would be sent to Greensboro on the first flight out the next day, so it would probably precede our arrival.

Though it was mighty inconvenient, we opted for the latter, with a flight to GSO at 9:35 a.m. on Saturday. Since all our clothes were in our checked bags, we nothing to wear but the clothes on our backs, though—thank Yog!—we had carried small necessities, such as our medications, toothbrushes, electronic devices, and such with us as we always do. Anyhoo, while this mess was a major pain in the ass, I'll reluctantly give AAL credit for living up to their end of the bargain as far as finally getting us back home.

Regardless, American is pretty much on my shit list because, in the last three years, every significant flight foul-up I've experienced has happened on American. I'd written them off a while back, but we did decide to give them another shot last year, and they came through with flying colors.

Not this time, alas.

#

Over several years, we've taken quite a few big trips with Terry and Beth, and there is little better than traveling to distant places with such good friends. The mood on this trip has felt a little different, though, what with that orange trash and his goons occupying the Oval Office and what could rightly be called a coup by a puppet dictator going on in real time around us. We've really loved this respite from the stress, and I'm excited about my new book having hit the streets, but the world, and especially our country, are entering a period unlike any in my lifetime, and I don't know that any of us are going to come out of this mess unscathed, some far worse than others.

Well...we're doing our best not to withdraw to preserve our sanity but to fight the good fight—whatever and however we feel is the best way. Because without a concerted effort by many, I fear we may be fucked for a long, long time to come.

Adios for now.

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Go to From St. Augustine to the Bahamas, Part 1

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From St. Augustine to the Bahamas, Part 1

Almost exactly a year ago, circumstances looked favorable for Ms. B. and me to plan another trip to places far and wide with friends and regular travel companions, Terry & Beth. They had been hoping to go to the Caribbean for some time, so we committed to taking this trip with them. We made reservations, put money down, and decided that, since it was a relatively short cruise (four days), we would visit St. Augustine for several days beforehand.

Then Brugger got laid off from her job at The Mailbox (the company where we'd worked together for well over a decade), and, concurrently, I lost my lucrative freelance gig with them. Still, since we'd lose a prohibitive amount of money if we opted to cancel, we figured we'd carry through with our plan. So...fookin' onward it is.

The logsheet of "Knock Knock Let Me In" (GCAZNPV)

Thursday, February 6, 2025
Departure day. Brugger and I rose about dawn, tossed our stuff in the car, and drove from Martinsville to Terry & Beth's place in Kernersville. We wasted no time transferring our belongings to their vehicle and getting our asses on the road. The first part of the trip was easy enough; I found a cache at a rest area, and we stopped for a tolerable lunch at J's Corner in Columbia. Afterward, though, traffic picked up considerably, and we ran into a few snags, particularly around Jacksonville, FL, where a car had crashed and burned up real good. Still, in general, the drive wasn't intolerable, and we made decent time—for Ms. B. and me, a total of about nine hours. Once we arrived at our lodgings, a nice AirBnB in north St. Augustine, we unpacked and then set forth to find dinner, as the Great Starvation was upon us. We opted for a nice restaurant in the Spanish Quarter called Forgotten Tonic, which had great atmosphere and mostly delicious food. I had a big-ass burger with havarti cheese, bacon, pickles, and other goodies on a big old pretzel roll. Then a supply run at a nearby grocery store.

By now, we were all feeling pretty wiped, but there was a geocache only a quarter-mile from our lodgings, so I decided to walk after it. Interestingly, some fellow geocachers of our acquaintance from back home—known as The Border Reivers—had just been to the cache a couple of days ago. I signed the log beneath their entry, then returned to the AirBnB to pen this little portion of blog, and then crashed.

B-b-boom!

Feeling blue at GCAZNPV

Friday, February 7, 2025

Home away from home—our St. Augustine AirBnB

Although the AirBnB is very comfortable, particularly the bed, I unfortunately had a poor night's sleep, due to some persistent, niggling physical issues; hopefully, nothing serious. Anyhoo, once up, about, and fortified with coffee, I felt reasonably human again. After a breakfast of biscuits and cinnamon butter, which Beth had brought home from last night's restaurant dinner, we set sail for the historical district and commenced to wandering. Eventually, we settled in for lunch at a decent Italian-ish restaurant called Pizzalley's Chianti Room, where Brugger and I split a fig & prosciutto pizza, which was delicious. Then we opted to separate for a while, some of us to go shopping, some of us to go geocaching (guess who did what).

St. Augustine Basilica

I hunted and found quite a few caches; in fact, I just about cleaned up the entire historical district. (There really aren't that many here, so this wasn't a particularly impressive feat.) They were all fun, though, and I added seven or eight finds to my Florida cache count. We regrouped at a nice wine bar called Bin 39, but because it's pretty hot and muggy here, I felt more in the cold, refreshing beer mode. Found a Hibiscus Wheat Ale that really hit the spot. From there, we headed for an art gallery/wine bar called The Bart on Aviles (Bar plus Art equals Bart) and split a bottle of very good California GSM.

Again, some wandering. After a time, for dinner, we settled on Prohibition Kitchen, right next to Pazzalley's. At first, we were a little leery because their live music, though mellow in character, was really, REALLY loud. However, the very kind staff there seated us in the balcony at the far back of the restaurant, which was perfect, as far as acoustics and intimacy go. Since I've not consumed a healthy morsel since we got here, I ordered a veggie sandwich (corned beets and spicy datil pepper slaw), though it came with yet more fries, which have accompanied every meal so far. I love me some fries, but I think I've hit the wall. Exceptionally high marks for this restaurant—very good food and service that couldn't be beat.

The Usual Suspects at Bin 39

Given that this is my first visit to St. Augustine, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I must say, in general, I love the city's character. Lots of history and culture, blended with the best of contemporary food, drink, shops, and other attractions; touristy in places, but not overwhelming (at least at this time of year; at peak season, the crowds are probably oppressive). Our lodgings are as comfortable as any we've had anywhere we've traveled—convenient to everything, but situated on a quiet, picturesque avenue, with plenty of amenities. Terry and Beth have been here several times, and I understand what draws them back for repeated visits. I expect that we'll return at some point in the future.

Sadly, unless the local geocachers add some caches to the landscape, any future caching here is likely to be disappointing.

My only real caveat about the place is the prevalence, at least in certain areas, of right-wing exhibitions of outright hatred, particularly from local businesses. The most egregious I saw was a sign on a restaurant that read "Dimmycrats are the evil within!" This kind of shit is why we can't have the proverbial nice things. So often, I hear that liberals are the ones who spread lies and hatred; but in my experience, all evidence points to precisely the opposite—in the real world as well as the virtual. I've never, ever seen public displays anywhere as vile and hate-filled from the left, whereas it's become more and more commonplace to see it from the right. So don't ever, EVER tell me that the right is not spreading hatred and division because that is absolutely verifiable bullshit.

And that's my closing for today. More tomorrow.

Haunted Inn in the historic quarter

Bustling St. George Street

A troupe of dastardly, evil, murderous sociopaths running loose in the streets of St. Augustine

Saturday, February 8, 2025

What IS that? (GCAAEC)

A virtual cache lurked about a half mile up the road from our place, so once I was up and had downed a jumbo-sized coffee, I set out on foot to see if I might find what I needed to claim the cache. GZ looked like a pump station for the city water system, but amid it all, there was monument to an individual who had apparently died while saving a child from some industrial accident at that site back in the 1980s. Not something one might expect to see at that particular location. Anyhoo, success! I recorded the necessary information to log the find and hoofed back to the house.

Old Rodan and the Old Senator

After we were all sufficiently caffeinated and felt up to the task, we ventured down to the historical quarter, circled the same block several times looking for parking (which we finally managed), and sought lunch at a nice little joint near Flagler College called The Floridian, recommended to us by an old friend from our days working at The Mailbox, as she'd gone to school at Flagler. I found their brisket tacos quite good, if not quite up to the standard of Catrina's (in Mebane, NC).

The rest of the gang needed to do some shopping and drinking, so Terry drove us a little ways north of town and I set out on foot for a half-dozen geocaches within about a mile radius of our drop-off point. I hoofed it to several very fun caches, including one at the Fountain of Youth Archaeology Park, another at the Old Jail Museum, and another at "Old Senator," a roughly 600-year old live oak tree. I knocked out a few others nearby and then headed back to meet up with the rest of the gang at Carrera Wine Cellar on San Marco St. This turned out to be a colorful, enjoyable place, and I ended up having a lengthy conversation with one of the local folks who was apparently something of a horror fan. She was particularly taken with the fact that I'd written some Dark Shadows books and audio drama scripts, since she'd been a huge DS fan back in the dark ages. Fun shit.

The St. Augustine Lighthouse at sunset

At last, we headed out to the St. Augustine Lighthouse & Maritime Museum, where I hunted yet another fun cache and the other folks went shopping (again). Right at sunset, the lighthouse lit up, which made for a lovely early evening sight. By the time we headed back toward town, the evening tourist/dinner rush was well under way, so it was a slow ride across the bridge over the Matanzas River.

For dinner, we chose Casa Reina Taqueria, which turned out to be one hell of a popular place. We had over an hour wait, but once in, they seated us on a second-floor balcony with a scenic view of the city. Since I'd had tacos at lunch, I opted for chicken with rice, beans, guacamole, pico de gallo, and tomatillo salsa, which was delicious—particularly once I added some of their homemade hot sauce, which was satisfying, though not that hot.

And that was pretty much our day's adventure. Tomorrow, we're heading for Fort Lauderdale, and the day following, onto Royal Caribbean's Liberty of the Seas for a four-day cruise to the Caribbean (specifically, CocoCay and Nassau). Hopefully, we'll avoid any unpleasant snags.

Till tomorrow!

Heading for Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth

On the balcony at Casa Reina

A couple of old folks at Longboards in Melbourne, FL

Sunday, February 9, 2025
Terry and I rose almost with the sun so we could venture out for an early breakfast. We had settled on a little breakfast joint less than half a mile from our lodgings, but to our dismay, we found it was closed. So, we wandered most of another mile down the road to the local Denny's, where we indulged in a couple of cardiac-attack breakfasts—eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes (cinnamon swirl slapjacks for me; quite delicious). Then we waddled back to our place.

Alas, it was time to bid adios to St. Augustine. We particularly enjoyed our AirBnB lodgings; very clean, spacious, attractive, comfortable, and very reasonably priced. Top marks to our hosts. From St. Augustine to Fort Lauderdale is a couple of hundred miles and some change, but we took a few turns for vittles, gas, and geocaches. We went into Melbourne for lunch on the beachfront at a place called Longboards, which had a most appealing ambiance, though the service was slower than a salted slug trying to run uphill. The food, though, was delicious. I had a platter of the biggest and best steamed shrimp I've ever tasted.

We ran into very heavy traffic on our approach to Fort Lauderdale, but eventually we made it to our lodgings: a nicely priced, reasonably comfortable inn close to the interstate, airport, and cruise port. Once checked in, we set out in search of dinner. We'd found what looked like a very nice bistro not far from our inn—a hotel restaurant, it turned out—but when we arrived, the menu barely resembled the one posted online, they were out of cheese, and hopelessly understaffed. After waiting at our table for twenty minutes without acknowledgment, we decided to ride over to a nearby Outback Steakhouse, the very act of which went against our long-held tradition of avoiding chains in favor of local establishments, but by this time, it was getting very late, and the Great Starvation had settled upon us. The food and service turned out to be very good.

The need for additional wine for our upcoming adventure was strong, so we found a nearby Total Wine—the biggest Total Wine I've ever seen, actually—and commenced to shopping. A cache lurked on the premises, so I snagged it for good measure. Once back at our hotel, I decided to hoof it after a couple of caches less than a mile away. As I made my way toward one of the caches, I noticed a laser-like spotlight aimed into the sky, no doubt from the airport, which is less than a mile from our hotel. Not sure of its significance, but I found it very cool looking. I managed to turn up both caches without undue difficulty, and then trucked back to our room for a goodnight glass of wine.

And tomorrow, lord willing, it'll be off to the Caribbean.

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Go to From St. Augustine to the Bahamas, Part 2

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From Twin Peaks to the Great White North, Part 3

Friday, October 6, 2023: Sky High in Vancouver
There must have been some snafus onboard the Ovation this morning as passengers prepared to disembark because the assigned exit times for each group — ours was 8:20 a.m. — kept getting pushed farther and farther back. After a 45-minute delay, we finally received the green light to get out of Dodge, so out of Dodge we went... and then we got back into another Dodge because the rental car Terry so kindly picked up for us was a Dodge Durango. It took some doing to get all our crap into the back of that vehicle, but Terry managed it. By then, the Great Starvation was upon us, and so we drove into Vancouver to find something for breakfast. Ms. B. found a few promising-looking locations online, but when we got there, all of them had lines out the door. So fuck that, we all said, and plopped ourselves down at a nearby Tim Hortons, which actually turned out to be pretty good.

It didn't take long to discover that traffic in Vancouver is a nightmare, as it took about twice the time we anticipated to reach our destination for the day, the Capilano Suspension Bridge, which crosses the Capilano River north of Vancouver. The bridge is over 200 feet high and spans a gorge almost a tenth of a mile wide. There's also a tree canopy walk and a cliff walk through the lush rainforest around the bridge. All of these attractions might be challenging for anyone who suffers from acrophobia, not just because they're way up high but because the walkways — the bridge and the tree canopy walk, at least — sway precariously.

Rather to our dismay, there was a huge crowd today, which meant the bridge and walkways were choked with people. We'd kind of hoped we might challenge the heights in a somewhat more serene environment. Regardless, we enjoyed the hell out of the experience. The forested landscape there is truly beautiful. I wasn't sure how well I'd take to the heights, but as it turned out, they didn't bother me at all. Both Beth and I made a point to cross the sometimes dizzily swaying bridge without so much as touching the handrails. And we did! One of the coolest things about the place was that it was loaded with Halloween horrors: skeletons, pumpkinheads, spiders, bats, rats... all kinds of cool, creepy things. Apparently, they know how to do Halloween right up here.

There was some very good (very expensive) food and drink to be found at the Cliff House Restaurant & Bar at the facility; pulled pork for all of us, which we found delicious, if distinctly different from the NC-style BBQ we're accustomed to back home. Apparently, the fries weren't bad either, as I couldn't stop eating them.

Did I mention crowds? Holy fucking shit, Vancouver is a raging, boiling cauldron of too-many-motherfucking people. New York, Chicago, Seattle, Boston, Atlanta... no city I've ever spent time in compares to the crushing crowds we met everywhere we went. By late afternoon, the roads were at a standstill, and we weren't sure we were ever going to make it to our lodgings, much less find a place to procure supplies. I've never seen so many cars trying to jam themselves into a gas station in my life. Hundreds of them. The Costco and Walmart, less than five miles from our place, took 45 minutes to reach, and then... horrors...! We discovered that in Canada you can't buy spirits of any sort at regular grocery stores. You've gotta go to a liquor store, even for wine and beer. Oh, the poor Canadians. And for us, another blasted battle with traffic.

I found a couple of caches, at least.

Anyway, it was a day. A generally awesome day, at that. Except for the too-many-motherfucking-people part. Judas H. Priest.

Saturday, October 7, 2023: Sky Higher in Whistler

I woke up pretty early and set right to work taking care of a bunch of Deathrealm business, as the release date is getting closer and closer (October 17). About 11:00 a.m., we dragged enough of our gear to last us overnight and hit the road for Whistler, a resort community supposedly about an hour and a half from Vancouver.

Haha. This is Vancouver. After an hour and a half, we hadn't even gotten clear of the city. Traffic was at a standstill everywhere, all morning. Canada's Thanksgiving Holiday is Monday, and it seems we've stumbled into the worst ongoing traffic snarls I've encountered in my lifetime. And I used to live in Chicago! Eventually, we hit something akin to open road (for a few minutes) and found a place for lunch on the city's northern outskirts: Mega Sushi, which was as tiny a place as tiny can be, but the food turned out to be pretty good.

Our primary target was the Sea-to-Sky Gondola, a mile-long, almost mile-high ascent into the mountains overlooking the Howe Sound. We'd anticipated being there by noon, but it was around 2:30 p.m. when we finally pulled in. Happily, things were moving along quickly, and our gang mounted up on one of the gondolas in fairly short order, bound for the sky. I'll tell you, the little cars zip up the cable at a good clip, and if you suffer from any degree of acrophobia, it might give you a jolt. The mountainside is steep, the gondola cars small and wobbly. Ms. B. rarely has any problem with heights, but she was squirming and averting her eyes from the outside world for most of the way up (see the photo above). I felt a wee bit of vertigo, but the ride didn't cause me any real discomfort. The views were beyond spectacular.

At the top, there's a gift shop, a slew of overlooks, a suspension bridge, a few trails, a bar, and geocaches. Needless to say, the latter two occupied most of my time up there. The suspension bridge was cool; not as high or long as the Capilano bridge, which we visited yesterday, but it's narrower and possibly shakier, and the gorge below is no less steep. I found a couple of caches and had a fine Bloody Mary before we made the descent back to our vehicle.

Once in Whistler, it was dinnertime, so we found it at Beacon Pub & Eatery. Fair-to-middlin' chicken wings and an Aperol Spritz. Our residence for the evening was the Aava Hotel, which was decent-looking and comfortable enough. Our gang of four sat up in a little lounge near the hotel lobby, drank some wine, and shot some shit. Since our collective batteries were beginning to run low, we retired fairly early.

Some of the views from the gondola...

Sunday, October 8, 2023: Brandywine and Shannon Falls
I woke up pretty early, so I headed out from the hotel and found a handful of geocaches around the Whistler's main commercial center. We regrouped around 10:30 a.m. for a fairly hefty brunch at Stone's Edge Kitchen in the nearby Adara Hotel. Decent food, though service was very slow, despite a small crowd — initially at least. By the time we left, business was beginning to pick up.

We had a much easier drive out of Whistler than we had coming in. Our first stop was Brandywine Falls, a not-at-all tiny trickle of water from a fairly lofty precipice. There was a huge crowd, enough so that there wasn't any parking left; we had to wait for a spell before one opened up. After a fifteen-minute walk on a fairly easy trail, we came to a few overlooks and took plenty of photos. I sought one cache but couldn't turn it up. The bugger may or may not still be there, as it was found the other day, but the empty location appeared consistent with the cache description. Alas!

Then we meandered to Shannon Falls, and this one is truly spectacular (that's it in the above-left photo). It's certainly the highest waterfall I've ever seen up close and personal, even higher than the highest waterfall Brugger and I visited in Michigan's Upper Peninsula (Douglass Houghton Falls). The water cascades down several tiers from a height of over a thousand feet. Again, we took pictures aplenty, and this time I found the geocache I sought — yay! Again, there was a massive crowd here, but we had marginally less trouble getting in and out of the park.

A few slow-downs on our way back to Vancouver, but nothing like the garbage heap we were stuck in yesterday. We stopped for a late lunch/early dinner at Medley's Italian & Grill in North Vancouver. Good food, good wine, good service. Ms. B. and I both had Basil Pesto & Linguine; she got grilled chicken on hers, while I decided to skip the protein because I've had no shortage of it on this trip.

At last, back at our lodgings in Langley, where a quiet and mellow evening was just the ticket. There's a couple of days left on this almost three-week-long sojourn, both of which are going to be kind of batshit crazy. I must say, I'm about ready to settle back into my regular home routine at Ground Zero — although I've got a booksigning in Williamsburg next weekend. Go, go, go, old man.

Old dude and Ms. B. at Brandywine Falls

Martian heat ray streaking down from the sky above Brandywine Falls

Along the trail to Shannon Falls

L: Coupla youngsters at Shannon Falls; R: Okay, maybe not so young. Getting up there was tough!

Monday, October 9, 2023: Where the Fuckowee?

The things some folks will do for wine. Mercy!

During this trip, our gang has acquired a few bottles of wine to take home — "a few" meaning a case for each couple. However, you can't transport that much wine across the Canadian border, so our host from the Seattle-area Air B&B, where we stayed last week, was kind enough to hold it for us. Our flight back home goes from Vancouver to Seattle, then Seattle to Raleigh-Durham. Since we have such an early morning flight out, we felt it most prudent to go back to Seattle — today — to store the wine much nearer to SeaTac and then pick it up during our five-hour layover in Seattle on tomorrow. (If you're following all this, you may be doing better than I am.)

So, that is what we did. Today, we drove down to our former Air B&B, north of Seattle, where we picked up the cases from our exceptionally kind host. Since we were now back in wine country, we figured we'd try a few more tasting rooms in Woodinville. Once again, we had lunch at the Hollywood Tavern, which we'd discovered on our first visit here, and then set about our final wine-tasting venture for this big honking trip.

We found wine, and it was good.

Terry had arranged a place to store the wine cases very near SeaTac, so we trucked down there, found the location... which initially struck us as pretty weird because it was an Ethiopian restaurant. However, the storage service Terry chose — Bounce — has been reliable for us before, and the way it works is that it's a side business for many. Trusting that we were doing the right thing, we left the wine there. Then we drove the two and a half hours back to Vancouver. Packed up. Hit the sack early, since we had to leave to Vancouver airport by 6:00 a.m. the next morning. To fly back to Seattle. And, finally, home.

Whew!

Tuesday, October 10, 2023: Take the Long Way Home
The reason we were flying out of Vancouver instead of simply leaving from Seattle was entirely due to the airlines' convoluted rules that make it cheaper to do a LOT of flying rather than a little. At the end of the day, we saved hundreds of dollars by making that extra trip from Vancouver to Seattle and back to Vancouver only to fly from Vancouver to Seattle the next before heading home. Got all that?

Up at 5:00 a.m. and out the door at 6:00. An hour's drive to YVR. Terry returns rental vehicle. We regroup, board plane, which takes off right on schedule. A quick, 30-minute flight to SeaTac, and... wow... déjà vu. Weren't we just here?

The last-leg-of-the-trip blues

Now, Terry and I find a taxi and ride over to the nearby Ethiopian restaurant. And... yay! All is well. We pick up our two cases of wine, return to the airport, check the cases, and... four more hours of layover. Much to my delight, I discovered there were a couple of Adventure Lab caches inside the airport to both occupy my time and put in some mileage on my feet (turned out to be about two miles total). We found a decent lunch, and — after three gate changes — found our plane. We boarded and took to the skies right on time.

Not a bad flight. Arrival at RDU right on schedule. Holy crap — at baggage claim, who should I run into but a geocacher of my acquaintaince from the Raleigh-Durham area. Turns out she and her husband were sitting right in front of us on the flight. She'd seen me at SeaTac, but our paths hadn't crossed until now. Anyhoo, our gang picked up our mountain of luggage, Terry took a taxi to his vehicle, parked just off the airport property, returned to pick us up, and... finally... off we headed to their home in Kernersville, just over an hour's trip.

It was about 1:30 a.m. when we reached their place, where we'd left our car. Kimberly and I transferred our bags to our vehicle and hit the road for Martinsville, an hour further on.

We walked... or more like stumbled... through our door at 2:45 a.m. to great fanfare by four cats. What excitement! Hollering, nuzzling, circling, jumping, & leaping. The cats were pretty happy too.

Lights out and collapse.

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Epilogue
This trip was an experience unlike any other for all of us, I think. From our several past ventures, Terry & Beth and Kimberly & I figure that we travel pretty damned well together. We know each others' quirks and idiosyncracies (of which there are many), and most of the time, we don't really want to off each other and feed the corpses to the fishies. Can't say that about many people.

Haha. Sort of.

I've never been comfortable leaving home for too long a spell, and this was the single longest trip I've ever taken. Thus, I can't say that Kimberly and I didn't stress a bit, especially since we're so recently settled in Martinsville, and the cats have never been under someone else's care for so long. Happily, all has ended up pretty damned well.

We got to see so many things I don't often see in Martinsville. Arctic Ground Squirrels! Whales! Rattlesnake! Moose! Bear! Kyle MacLachlan! We saw the Pacific Northwest. We saw Canada. We saw Alaska. We went to many utterly gorgeous, very high places that challenged whatever acrophobia any of us might suffer. We discovered wine. Our cruise allowed us to view spectacular landscapes and seascapes the likes of which many people never get to see. And there were geocaches!

There is a lot of catch-up to play at this point. The real world beckons again.

So... here's to our next little break from it....

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• Read From Twin Peaks to the Great White North, Part 1
• Read From Twin Peaks to the Great White North, Part 2