Showing posts with label geocaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label geocaching. Show all posts

Thursday, October 22, 2026

A Wintergreen Anniversary

Ms. B. and I wanted to have a getaway of some variety for our fifth anniversary, primarily just the two of us because she's had to be gone so much to Michigan to look after her folks (not to mention on various arts & crafts long weekends). Last year, we enjoyed two lovely trips to Wintergreen in the mountains of Central Virginia, so we decided to return to it for our anniversary trip. Five years ago on October 19, we we were married in Venice, Italy; Wintergreen isn't exactly Venice, but it surely is a beautiful area, with lots of wineries/distilleries/breweries/dining. Yep, just the place.

Sunday, October 18, 2026
During the morning, we packed up the car, and precisely at noon, off we went. Our first stop was lunch in Gretna, a little Mexican joint called El Cazador. The food was good, and they hit us with some extra-jumbo margaritas that were delicious. After all that had settled, we moved on and arrived at our lodgings in Wintergreen precisely at 4:00 p.m., our designated check-in time. It's a lovely AirBnB at the Wintergreen Resort — although, for a brief time, we wondered if we were going to be able to get inside, for the door code did not work. I messaged our host, and, happily, he saw it immediately (it was quite chilly outside). He was able to reset the code remotely, so in we went. The place is the perfect size for the two of us, cozy and fairly romantic for an anniversary stay.
 
Once we settled in, we popped over to the nearby market, where we picked up a few staples, and then we trucked over to The Edge for dinner, which is right on the ski slopes and offers some beautiful views. Right now, the fall color isn't quite at its peak, but it's getting there. Last year when we were here, conditions were similar; we saw minimal color, and then one morning we woke up, looked outside, and found that autumn had exploded. Perhaps we'll be so lucky again this year. At The Edge, we both had excellent mushroom & Swiss burgers. And they do make a damn fine martini.
 
Afterward, we returned to our place and settled in to watch Tales of Halloween and an episode of Cabinet of Curiosities, which satiated our craving for some Halloween-themed entertainment, accompanied by a smidgen of wine. Then off to bed.
Monday, October 19, 2026
I got up bright and early, had coffee and a cinnamon roll, and hoofed it to a nearby geocache — one I'd been unable to find on our previous trip here — called "Exploring Wintergreen #5: Ski Fever" (GC29P8R). This time, I managed to turn it up in short order, so that was most gratifying. It was cold out there, I can tell you.
 
Brugger was awake by the time I arrived back at our lodgings. I worked on the blog a bit until lunchtime, when we set out for Three Notch'd Brewery & Craft Kitchen, which looked like a happy place from the info online. And indeed it was. Their hot honey chicken wings about sent me over the moon, and they make a dynamite Bloody Mary.

Then we rode up to Pollak Vineyards, between Waynesboro and Charlottesville, which we hadn't visited before. It's a nice spot, with several very decent white and red wines. They had a Petite Verdot that was as good as any I've ever tasted, so I picked up a bottle. From there, we headed a few miles eastward to Chiswell Farm & Winery, our favorite of the numerous wineries we'd visited on our last trip. It's a beautiful old mansion with sprawling grounds and scenic views. Plus they have very good wine. Ms. B. has turned to drinking mostly whites, so she tried a flight of whites, and I had a flight of reds. Here, I liked the Meritage marginally better than the Petite Verdot, so my favorites were flip-flopped from Pollak's. And again, a lovely experience; Chiswell is probably my favorite winery that I've visited in the Eastern U.S.

Those stops took us till dinnertime, so on the way back to Wintergreen, we found dinner at Blue Mountain Brewery, which we'd visited on previous occasions. I killed a very good pulled pork sandwich, with potato salad, and I hoped I wasn't overworking the stomach today — on trips like this, healthy eating is a rarity. Back at our place, we watched Cabin in the Woods and, after a little while, zonked out.
 
And that was how we spent our fifth anniversary. A truly lovely day for both of us. I love you, Ms. B.!
Lunch at Three Notch'd Brewery
The tasting room at Pollak Vineyards
Chiswell Farm & Winery
Wine flights at Chiswell
Tuesday, October 20, 2026
First things first: geocaching! There was a cache about a mile down the mountain — "Top of the (Wintergreen) World!" (GC2KJWT) — on the Devil's Knob Trail — and the rather foreboding name is quite apt. The long descent by road from our place to the trailhead was steep, to be sure, but the trail... wowz. It's steeper than steep, rocky, narrow, and slippery in places, with a couple of plunges on one side that would prove fatal should one take a bad step. The terrain rating is 4 out of 5, with 5 being the most difficult, and I'd say that rating is spot-on. It was less than a quarter mile from the trailhead to the cache, but that trek took twice as long as the mile down the mountain.

I spent a good while searching for the cache, as ground zero was a target-rich area. In the end, the coordinates and hint ("Just hanging out") proved very good. Also... that last step to reach the cache was a doozy. It was one of those long "plunges" one does not want to make. In the end, I awarded the cache a favorite point on geocaching.com for its enjoyable placement and the challenging hike.
View from the overlook at the trailhead

A couple of views of the trail
The cache is down there...somewhere.

L: Living on the edge at GZ; R: That last step could be a doozy.

Having survived the Devil's Knob Trail, I hoofed it back to our place. Brugger and I got ourselves fit to be seen in public, inasmuch as that's possible, and drove down to the nearby market where they have a deli with really good sandwiches. We had a couple for lunch, and then set out on the day's winery tour. Our first stop was Flying Fox Vineyard, which we'd visited last year when we came to Wintergreen with friends Terry & Beth. Their wines are okay, but what I most appreciate is their four varieties of vermouth, since one isn't going to find any comparable spirits elsewhere in the area.

Then we went a short distance up the way to Veritas Vineyards, on Afton Mountain. Veritas was the first vineyard in this area we ever visited, well over a decade ago, with friends Elizabeth Massie & Cortney Skinner (whom we plan to see tomorrow). The wine here is excellent, and the facility is huge — it has expanded considerably since our first visit. We very much enjoyed our return.

Next on the docket was another visit to the Blue Ridge/Crozet Tunnel, also at the summit of Afton Mountain. We went last year when we were here and quite enjoyed the experience. It's a mile-long railroad tunnel, now part of a nice rail trail. It was cold and damp in there, but we didn't mind a bit. And at the far end, a geocache awaited, which I found with ease. Last year, we encountered a good many folks along the trail, but this time, the tunnel and trail were almost deserted. We passed only a scant handful of humans on this outing, which made it all the spookier — and thus fun.

We needed some dinner, so we found it at Devil's Backbone Brewing Company (there's a shit-ton of places with "Devil" in the name around here). It's a huge establishment, and we found the food, drink, and service quite good. I ordered fish & chips, and Ms. B. got a huge plate of roasted brussel sprouts, so we ended up sharing dinners with each other. Good stuff!

For our evening entertainment, we watched As Above, So Below, a cool horror flick we'd seen some years ago. Still very enjoyable. It's one that made me glad we had gone caving before watching this, rather than after. Since we have a fireplace and plenty of firewood, I built a fire to make things nice and cozy. Another excellent evening for Ms. B. and me!
Wednesday, October 21, 2026
It wasn't exactly the crack of dawn, but I got up before Kimberly so I could have coffee and some scrambled eggs, work on the blog, and go geocaching. It wasn't a terribly restful night; my sinuses are succumbing to fall allergies, and the vast change in diet/drink over several days gave my stomach a few fits. And it ain't quite over. Anyway, about the time Ms. B. roused from bed, I set out on the mile-long downhill trek to a cache called "Sparkledust Fairy Village" (GCBR33H). It really was a little fairy village, nestled amid the trees and rocks in a small green space between the main road and one of the housing developments. It was a clever, imaginative hide, and it took me a little while to find the correct address amid the fairy houses. I liked it.

Then... the mile-long return trek up the mountain. It was nowhere near as taxing as yesterday's rugged hike, but the inclines here are nothing to laugh at, I can tell you.
Once back, I cleaned up, downed some more caffeine, and wrote in the blog. Then Ms. B. and I mounted up and drove to Barren Ridge Vineyards between Waynesboro and Staunton. It's another winery we had visited on a trip to see Cortney and Elizabeth — back in 2014, I believe. It's a beautiful location, and the wine is very good, particularly their Touriga and Petite Verdot.
The view from the terrace
Having completed the first phase of our mission, we drove to Staunton, about twenty minutes up the road. Our plan was to meet friends Cortney Skinner & Elizabeth Massie at Accordia Wine Bar, but when we arrived, it was closed, much to our surprise. Apparently, they're always closed on Wednesday, but their Google listing did not reflect this. Happily, a quick search indicated that Yelping Dog Wine Bar lay a short block away. About that time, Cortney & Beth arrived, so we settled at Yelping Dog for a great afternoon of catching up with each other's exploits.
 
For dinner, we chose the nearby Depot Grille. The restaurant is in the old train station, and I recalled seeing it last year while I was geocaching in the area. What a great choice it was: beautiful ambiance, great food, and excellent service. I killed one of the best bison burgers I've had anywhere — and I do love me a good bison burger. Plus they make damned fine martinis.
 
On a more ridiculous note, all of us neglected to take a single photo while we were together, which was... well... ridiculous. I reckon we're all old and were so busy chatting that we never reached for our phones. Alas!
The impressive bar at Depot Grille, Staunton
After we parted company with Cortney & Beth, Kimberly was craving ice cream, so we hoofed it to the nearby Split Banana Ice Cream Parlor and killed a couple of cups of the cold stuff. Yep, it was delicious.
 
We drove the dark, winding backroads back to our lodgings in Wintergreen, a truly dark and eerie route, at times reminiscent of the opening scene of Professor Harrington driving away from Lufford Hall in Night (Curse) of the Demon. Needless to say, I loved this.
 
We watched 2014's Ouija, which we enjoyed. We'd watched the 2016 Mike Flanagan prequel, Ouija: Origin of Evil, a couple of weeks ago; Flanagan's is a better film, but taken together, they are both quite entertaining.
 
And then... lights out. G'night.
 
Thursday, October 22, 2026
This was the last morning of our Wintergreen anniversary trip, which made us a little sad because we've had an awesome time (except for the possible onset of a creeping crud for both of us; hoping it's allergies, but this is pretty ugly). We packed up and headed out right at 10:00 a.m. We stopped for gas in Lynchburg, and lunch at cool coffee shop called The Pod in Gretna. Quite delicious, and a fitting close to another fantastic Brugger-Rainey outing. Kimberly, especially, has needed a break from the stress of dealing with her parents and trying to gain new clients for her freelance work. Our AirBnB was fantastic, and we'll be looking forward to a return to this area next year, assuming AI hasn't gained sentience and sparked the Rise of the Machines.
 
I'll be back.

Friday, October 2, 2026

A Haunting in Central Virginia

Recently, friend and fellow Virginia writer, Joe Maddrey, suggested that we should catch up after a long spell without seeing each other. This sounded good to me, so we decided to meet somewhere between our respective domiciles, which are several hours apart. He's become acquainted with another Virginia writer, Michael Gray Baughan, who has a place out in the sticks near Appomattox, so we settled on meeting at Mike's place for lunch. And yesterday, that is what we did.
 
From here, it was about a two-hour drive, mostly on two-lane back roads, which took me through the little towns of Gretna and Brookneal. On the geocaching map, I saw a cache at a place called Johnson's Mill that looked interesting, so I took a short detour to go after it. And it was cool. The hunt led me down a tiny road with a single-lane bridge (see photo above) and into the woods, where I discovered an old stone dam. Happily, I found the cache, which is pretty old, with no difficulty and in good condition. This set the tone for the day, as the trip went swimmingly.
Mike's place (which is not his full-time home but his wife's family's ancestral dwelling) is way the hell out in no-man's land, and while the GPS map came in handy, the directions Joe sent me in advance were most useful. There's a couple of hundred acres here, some of it farmland, but most of it wooded. The house itself is well over a century old, and Mike has been busy with a one-man restoration project — and, as far as I'm concerned, his progress is phenomenal. He's put on a whole new roof, rebuilt the front porch, constructed a few outbuildings (including a first-class outhouse) with wood from trees he cut and made into lumber, refurbished the full interior, and much more. If ever anyone defined "handy" to me, Mike is that gentleman — and he is a most gracious host.
 
Not to mention he's a writer. Joe sent me his story collection, The Ana Log & Other Anomalies, which I've not read yet, but it's coming in the queue.
 
He gave us a detailed tour of the house and a portion of the grounds, regaling us with tales of the place's history as well as many engaging personal anecdotes. Since there aren't any dining establishments anywhere nearby (and you can sure there's no Doordash or other food delivery), Joe and I brought our own lunches (I picked up some chicken tenders in Brookneal), and we sat outside at a lovely wooden table Mike had made by hand. Then we sat, drank beers, and shot the shit for the better the part of the afternoon.
 
A most excellent meeting of the minds, I'd say. I'd be hard-pressed to imagine much better than than three scary writers together in a lovely, remote location swapping stories. Silly me, though; I took plenty of photos of the location, but none of us together. I reckon the three us will have to meet up again sometime soon and have a regular author photo shoot.
 
I could cope with it.
Mike's home away from home out in the wilds of central Virginia
One of the lovely views inside the house
The only photo I took featuring Mike (left) and Joe (right)
This is one of Mike's photos from a while back, but it's essentially the view we had while sitting and shooting shit

Friday, September 18, 2026

Dr. No's and Georgia on My Mind (Again)


It was only a short few weeks ago that I made arrangements to take part in the Monstrous Books' group signing event for James Aquilone's Kolchak: Eras anthology at Dr. No's Comics & Games Superstore in Marietta, Georgia (Wednesday, September 16, 4:00–6 p.m.). I figured that, since I have so much history in north Georgia, I might turn this singular event into a much-desired extended trip, especially since Ms. B. had to go to Michigan to look after her mom and dad for a while. Otherwise, for two weeks, I'd be on tenterhooks at home in Virginia, alone but for a most intimidating passel of cats. So... a trip of it I decided to make.
 
Tuesday, September 15, 2026
I left Martinsville this morning about 9:00 a.m., bound for Gainesville, Georgia, where my mom was raised, my parents were married, and my grandparents (Mom's) lived until they passed away in the late 1980s. From the time I was born until my grandparents died, my immediate family and I spent countless days in Gainesville with them, especially around holidays. (Here's a link to my blog from my November 2025 sojourn).
 
Traffic was predictably heavy the entire trip down, but thank Yog, there were no major hold-ups. For shits and giggles, I followed the lady in the phone's advice to try a different approach than my usual into Gainesville. Typically, I take I-85 to US 129 straight into town. Google directed me onto Hwy 51, which took me through the tiny towns of Homer and Lula, Georgia. I'd seen both on the map since I was old enough to read, but I'd never experienced either of them up close and personal. So, close your eyes and imagine what a little north Georgia town named Homer or Lula might look like. Yes, you are right the first time! This route wasn't a bad diversion from the norm — the scenery was nice enough — but it was slower, and I'm sure I shan't do it again.
 
I stopped for only one geocache along the way, and that was because it was close to where I had lunch (an Arby's somewhere in South Carolina — a tiny chicken slider and unsweetened iced tea). Almost every cache anywhere near the main highway is an unimaginative park & grab, and in my old age, I don't have that much interest in those. On this roughly six-hour trip, I found myself more inclined to reach my destination than grab run-of-the-mill geocaches just for the numbers.
 
My destination was the nice AirBnB where I stayed on last November's trip — a little house called the Blue Bungalow, very near my grandparents' old place. Coming back here felt familiar and comfortable, and the owner is acquainted with one of my cousins who still lives here in town. I'm glad it was available for the better part of my stay, though for my final evening here, I'll be at a nearby hotel.
Home away from home: The Blue Bungalow
The Shishito Margarita at Taqueria Tsunami

Once settled in, I made a quick trip to the nearby Publix for provisions, and then set out on foot for downtown and dinner. I originally thought I might visit Bourbon Brothers Smokehouse, which I'd enjoyed last time, but I ended up detouring to Taqueria Tsunami on the Square, as I'd never been there. And holy Moses, how excellent. I started with an appealing-looking drink called the Shishito Margarita (shishito pepper–infused Codigo tequila, Patron citronage jalapeno, yuzu liqueur, ginger liqueur, and lime juice, in a glass rimmed with Korean Five Spice). I must say, I loved this beast, so I ordered a second one. For dinner, I killed a Korean pork carnitas taco, a spicy Mahi Mahi taco, and a cucumber salad. All fantastic, and not entirely unhealthy. I'm fairly certain Bourbon Brothers will happen before my visit is done, though. If time permits, I'd also enjoy revisiting Southern Recess Gastro Pub, another of my favorites here.
 
I made arrangements with my cousin (also named Mark) to dine with him and his family on Friday, and I'm hoping to line up a dinner outing after the book signing tomorrow with as many of the attending deviants as possible. Speaking of, friend Dave Hinchberger called, and we enjoyed shooting the shit for the better part of an hour. Then I sat out on the front porch, drank a little Irish, and composed the mess you're reading right now.
 
I doubt you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, but if you enjoyed it half as much as I did, then I am twice as happy as you are. You know how that goes.

Till tomorrow. 
Bradford Street on the Square
The house where my grandparents lived way back when
Nope. No such thing!

Wednesday, September 16, 2026
I rolled (read stumbled) out of bed about 8:30 a.m., made coffee and scrambled eggs, and then hoofed it to the nearby post office to mail an autographed copy of The House at Black Tooth Pond to my one adoring fan. After this, I wandered around the neighborhood, much of which retains the mellow character it's had since I was a kid. Of course, there's also a shit-ton of new development, although most of it is at least a step above cookie-cutter shoeboxes, the blight of so many fast-growing communities. I got in my daily requisite steps, and I expect I'll be getting a good many before I retire tonight. I've put in five to eight miles every day for about a week now.
 
Among the provisions I picked up at Publix yesterday were some oysters, so I made oyster stew for lunch. It's a rare delicacy for me since the supermarkets back home carry oysters so infrequently. F'ing bastards. It was yummy, although Brugger calls oysters snot from the sea.
The house on nearby Park Street where my great uncle and his family lived when I was growing up
Oh, yeah, baby!
About 1:00 p.m., I headed out for Marietta, giving myself plenty of time to get in some geocaching before the event at Dr. No's. Every highway was a madhouse, as always, and there was a pretty nasty traffic jam on I-75, but at least I was never pressed for time. I went after eight caches (one of which was in the woods behind Dr. No's) and found them all. I was glad to see a couple of creative hides among the mostly quick park & grabs. I ended up one hell of a sweaty mess, I can tell you — quite unfit for civilized society. Happily, I had brought along a change of clothing and some personal freshening-up items. So, once I arrived at the bookstore, I availed myself of their restroom, scrubbed up, and changed. When I emerged, I might still have been unfit for civilized society, but at least I was clean and almost as fresh as a wilted daisy.
That old dude's not TOO sweaty a mess....

The Monstrous Books bunch comprised James Aquilone, Cliff Biggers, Lev Butts, Nancy A. Collins, Bobby Nash, Charles Rutledge, and an old dude. What a fun crew this turned out to be! Most enjoyable were visits from some of my old friends from various places in time and space: my ages-old friend Todd Wickliffe, originally from Martinsville, and his son, Richard, both of whom now live near Marietta; Dave Hinchberger, overseer of the renowned Overlook Connection Press & Bookstore and good friend dating back to the late 1980s; and Alan Hughes, former resident of Gainesville and co-panelist on the Lovecraft eZine Podcast. 
 
I signed a slew of copies of Kolchak: Eras and sold a few books of my own. Yay! Afterward, Lev Butts, Dave H., Alan Hughes, and Alan's daughter, Victoria, gathered with me for a most satisfying dinner at Marietta Fish Market, a short distance down the road from Dr. No's. I sank a couple of very good gin martinis and almost killed a huge plate of fish & chips, but it was so much, a portion of it returned to Gainesville with me.

For me, this was an all-around good time. I truly value the support of such good friends, and I enjoyed meeting the folks I hadn't previously. I especially appreciated getting to know Charles Rutledge much better, after our paths had crossed only like ghost ships in the night at various cons. The drive back to Gainesville was no less bonkers than the drive down, but I survived to write another day. Man, talk about wiped out. That comfy bed calls.

Niters!
Imagine seeing this visage glaring at you from the placard on the table...
James Aquilone, Nancy A. Collins, Cliff Biggers, Charles Rutledge, Old Dude, Lev Butts, Bobby Nash
Same crew, different angle
Butts, Rutledge, Dude, Dave Hinchberger, Collins, Biggers
You never know who you're gonna find popping into an event — artist & Lovecraft eZine panelist Alan Hughes
Dave and Nancy
A big honking pile of fish & chips at Marietta Fish Market


Thursday, September 17, 2026
As soon as I leaped exuberantly out of bed* and downed a single mug of coffee, I set out to earn my morning mileage — walking rather than running today — which led me to the town square. I needed more caffeine in the worst way, so I burst into Inman Perk, which has provided me with many caffeine fixes over the years, and demanded a new fix. Since the outside temperature was rising rapidly, I opted for an iced Vietnamese cold brew, and... oh, yeah... did that ever hit the spot. On the walk back, Ms. B. and I yakked on the phone about our respective goings-on. I daresay I'm having the better time of it as she deals with the rigors of overseeing her parents' care.
 
*Crawled.
 
Once settled back in at the Blue Bungalow, I polished off most of the leftovers from last night's dinner. Not as good as fresh in the restaurant, but still plenty edible. Then I buckled down for a long writing stint (part of which included this blog).
 
Just shy of 5:00 p.m., I ventured back outdoors and into the ungodly heat. (FOR GOD'S SAKE, IT IS FUCKING MID-SEPTEMBER — "CLIMATE CHANGE IS A HOAX" MY ASS.) I had narrowed down my dinner choices to Southern Recess Gastro Pub; Bourbon Brothers Smokehouse; and Sizzling Spices, a tempting-looking Indian restaurant. I opted to let my feet decide, since each place was along my route. As my walk progressed, I ruled out Southern Recess because, inside the restaurant, it is always louder than fuck, and I don't like loud. Therefore, sitting outside was a requirement (in the past, for this very reason, I have always sat outside). Today, it was still 90 goddamn degrees Fahrenheit out there, and I was not at all keen on sitting outside at 90 goddamn degrees Fahrenheit. Then, as I passed Sizzling Spices, I remembered that Bourbon Brothers had happy hour going on. Therefore, I settled on the latter.
 
Once ensconced at Bourbon Brothers, I found that happy hour applied to appetizers (buy one, get one free) or getting a double house drink for a dollar above the regular price for a single. Well, the house drinks didn't much appeal to me, so I ordered a gin martini (and a second one a short while later). For dinner, I went for the smoked chicken wings appetizer — and I could have gotten an extra for free; however, that would have been way too much for me to kill, and since I'm moving from the Blue Bungalow to a hotel tomorrow, and I'm having dinner with my cousin and his family in the evening, consuming an extra portion of dead bird tomorrow didn't appear likely. So, happy hour ended up being a bust, but I didn't care; I didn't give a shit. I drank them drinks and ate them wings like a man insane because, oh my lord, them were good. I'm going on record saying these were the best smoked wings I've ever devoured.
 
Tomorrow, I need to be out of here by 10:00 a.m. I can check into the hotel at 3:00 p.m., so I'll probably either go down to Inman's Perk, drink coffee, and write for a while before going geocaching; or I'll opt for reverse order, depending on mood and circumstances. In any event, I foresee geocaching and writing, in one order or another, between changing my temporary domiciles.
 
On my walk back to the Blue Bungalow, I took a route that led me past Bell's Cleaners, which was the dry-cleaning plant my grandfather and his three brothers (Great Uncle Herbert, Great Uncle Mark, and Great Uncle Garnett) opened in the 1950s and owned until Herbert, the last surviving sibling, passed away in the late 1990s. Though the plant has been closed for several years, it still looks much the same as it ever was. I understand that whoever bought it after Herbert's death did the place no credit, but the fact that it still exists in its almost pristine state feels weirdly deliberate — due to its historical significance, perhaps? I really don't know about that, but it's true that the Bell family — Mom's folks — certainly earned their place as a prominent Gainesville family. I have vivid childhood memories of going to that plant with my grandfather, and stopping there to say goodbye to him whenever we were about to head back home at the end of our Gainesville visits. Because of that personal history, I'm glad it remains imminently recognizable. I'll wager there aren't many people in this town who remember it as the Gainesville institution it once was. For all I know, it won't be there much longer, but for this moment in time, it makes me happy.
These.
The "Bell's" logo is missing above "Cleaners" on the wing on the right, but that's about all that's changed.
After having written much of the above, I realized I could not bring myself to sit here alone ruminating. I'd been out on extended walks twice today, but after a big ol' mug of Good Morning America about 7:30 p.m., I found myself brimming with excess energy. Therefore, I got into some comfy running attire and went for a late-night jog. It turned out to be a pretty danged long one too, including a fly-by of my grandparents' old place, and then on to Ivey Terrace Park, where, as kids, my brother and I often played and rode bikes. I threaded my way around several of the neighboring streets and was immediately reminded how freaking steep some of the hills around here are. The night turned out to be quiet and serene — such a change from the endless bustle I've experienced thus far here. By the end of the evening, I'd put in well over eight miles running/walking for the day. If I needed any tonic on this trip, I found it here tonight.
 
As I passed so many locations that remain virtually unchanged since my childhood (hell, even since my mom's childhood), I realized — for the umpteenth time, but with unprecedented intensity — how precious my memories of Gainesville are. And I thought, you know, I kind of wish I could become a ghost at will, to go back and latch onto the little guy I used to be, and see the world as I saw it back then, to relive those most beautiful memories without the baggage the intervening years have dumped on my body and mind. No, I wouldn't want to go back and stay there; life has taken me on a journey that I often haven't appreciated, but it's undeniably been to where I belong. Still, there were many periods in my youth when I knew unadulterated joy, pure love and warmth, without cynicism or even the objectivity of maturity. Once one reaches a certain age (at least, for me), that's no longer possible, and this feels fucking tragic. But life is life, and as they say, wherever you go, there you are.
 
Tomorrow is my last full day in Gainesville. I foresee geocaching before dinner with my cousin and his family. Maybe a lot of geocaching. We shall see.
Ivey Terrace Park after dark

Friday, September 18, 2026
Once up and about, I cleaned up the Blue Bungalow, got myself packed, and headed down to the Square to procure more coffee and get some writing done at Inman Perk. It started out mighty warm in there, but after a while, they finally turned on the chillers, and pretty soon, it became more tolerable. The place isn't quite as conducive to writing as The Ground Floor back home, but it was still a nice diversion and a good way to be productive before checking in at my hotel.
 
Before heading out geocaching, I stopped for lunch at Zen Ramen & Sushi Burrito, just off the square. I got a soft-shell crab sushi "burrito," and it was the first thing I've had since I arrived here that didn't much impress me. The "burrito" is nothing more than an oversized urumaki roll, too big to hold together and eat comfortably. The flavor was okay, but I've had such better rolls. Alas.

Then I went out geocaching north of Gainesville proper, mostly along the banks of Lake Sidney Lanier, at a couple of different parks. I targeted four caches, and found three; one of them is clearly missing, as several previous hunters' logs indicated, but Masochistic Mark went out to give it a look anyway. Alas, no success for me either. Despite the morbidly hot temperature and oppressive humidity out there, I enjoyed the hiking — well, mostly. The woods here are full to the brim with Joro Spiders, which have built webs between just about every pair of trees, and it's well-nigh impossible to avoid walking through the webs and taking the spiders with you. I had several hanging off the brim of my hat at one point, and despite my earnest pleas, they didn't much want to vacate the premises. Some of them were pretty good size, but by and large they had roughly 1- to 2-inch legspans; not terribly menacing, these little folks, but their web is so sticky and strong, it's a bear to get the threads (and the spiders) off of you.
 
Finally, I made my way to the hotel for my final night's stay — the Hometown Studios by Red Roof Gainesville on Jesse Jewell Parkway. Check-in wasn't exactly a treat; the lady in the office spent 15 minutes staring at her computer before finally giving me a key... which appeared not to work once I went up the three flights of stairs to the room. So, I hoofed it back down, and she told me that with some of the rooms, you have to pull the handle upward rather than use the more traditional push-the-fucking-handle-down method. That might have been helpful information. So, I hoofed it back up again; glad my leg muscles are in good shape. Anyway, the room is comfortable and clean, though once I got in, I found the TV blaring, and it took a while to shut it off — because, as I discovered, the battery compartment on the remote is busted. Oy. Ah, well, First-World problems. Anyway, it's a far cry from the Blue Bungalow, but it's only for one night, and it was cheap as hell because I had a bunch of Expedia reward points.
Heat. Humidity. Spiders. Yes, this is what we do for fun.
Do you see a geocache in there? Nah, me neither. It's gone.
Fun fungus
After I'd made myself reasonably presentable and written the above, I got myself ready to head over to Cousin Mark's place. He and his wife, Sylvia, have a lovely house on the north side of town, and their son — yes, another Mark — and his wife, Lauren, came to dinner as well. We each started out with a Cousin Mark Old Fashioned, which was lovely, and for dinner, Sylvia made a delicious lasagna. I'd taken along a bottle of Amarone, which complemented it nicely. I don't think I've seen Mark III and Lauren since they got married, sometime in the 1990s. On their honeymoon, Mark & Lauren rode in the 1949 Hudson used in the film, Driving Miss Daisy, which belonged to my Uncle Herbert. Herbert had a huge collection of antique cars, and two of his Hudsons appeared in the movie back when.

Interestingly, both Mark & Sylvia noted that, when I came in, they were struck by how much I resembled my grandfather (Mom's dad). For some time now, I've thought that, when I look in the mirror, I kind of see him. I obviously wasn't imagining things. Over the next few hours, we enjoyed much conversation, especially about memorable moments we've shared in the past. These cousins are about the last family I have in the world, and the times we're able to get together are both rare and truly valued. I hope we'll all be around for a long time to come. I'm working hard at it, I can tell you.

Afterward, I drove down to the square, parked, and put in a few laps just to get some additional mileage on foot. I considered stopping off at one of the many bars for a drink, but I decided it wasn't really necessary. I've got some booze with me, and I certainly didn't need to spend any money on overpriced drinks.
 
Tomorrow, I plan to get up fairly early and hit the road. I don't want to be late getting home, for there will be anxious cats. I must say, at the end of it all, this trip could hardly have been better. Good times, good accommodations, good friends, good food, good drink, good book signing, just... good. I think that, sometimes, "good" is the best there is, and you know what? This week, it really, really was.
 
Till later. Good night!
Lauren & Mark Bell III

L: Mark Jr. & Sylvia Bell; R: Three Marks: Mark III, Mark Jr., Old Mark