An Appalachian Sojourn

A short while back, I did a little scheming with our frequent travel partners, Terry & Beth, because Ms. B. has been going through a lot of stress, mainly from dealing with her parents' declining health, and we felt it was high time we helped her unwind with a wining, dining, and sightseeing trip together. We wanted something short of exotic (read not overly expensive) but a bit out of the ordinary. So, we opted for a three-day trip to the mountains of North Carolina — an apt destination because, in August, at Necronomicon Providence, I'm going to be on the Appalachian Horror panel. What better than spending a few days in the heart of legend-haunted Appalachia?

Thursday, June 4, 2026
Brugger and I hit the road about 9:30 a.m. Three hours and a couple of pee and geocache stops later, we met Terry and Beth in Blowing Rock, NC, at a cool little bistro called Storie Street Grille & Sidecar Bar, which was the first place that struck our fancy. Excellent food and drink, and it was great to gather with our good friends again. I decided to go marginally healthy and get a spicy lentil burger. I did have fries. These were fantastic.

 

Afterward, we checked into our lodgings, about ten miles out of Blowing Rock — the cabin you see in the photo above. A fine place indeed, with all the amenities and some lovely views. 

 

Beth's number one priority was to visit the Beacon Heights Trail, close to the town of Linville, about twenty miles west of Blowing Rock. She and Terry had visited it a few years ago and loved the incredible mountain scenery. So, off we went. Once there, it was a short hike to the top of the ridge, which is a huge, open quartzite surface that offers an unbroken view of the world, primarily eastward. As is our custom, once settled at the top of of the world, we broke out the spirits and toasted our friendship. We spent the better part of the afternoon taking it all in, and, eventually, made our way back to Blowing Rock, with most of daylight now behind us. Here, we found a decent dinner at Town Tavern, which we'd noticed earlier in the day. They had live music—agreeable, classic Americana—and some of the best damned chicken tenders I've ever tasted. And the Aperol Spritz took me straight back to Italy. All in all, a lovely day.

For the evening, we hung out at our place, enjoyed a little wine, and had some great conversation. This is what I call the best kind of therapy.

Old Dude and Ms B geocaching in Blowing Rock

Wine on the rocks

This Earth is NOT flat

Friday, June 5, 2026
There was a geocache about a mile from our lodgings, so first thing this morning, I set out after it on foot, and I've gotta tell you, the road from our place up to the main road is steeper than steep. This made for one hell of a strenuous trek. Once at ground zero, I had to scramble up, over, and around some boulders and otherwise rugged terrain, but in the end, I found the cache. Victory!

Today's group destination was Linville Gorge, which I'd visited many years ago with an old friend. There are several overlooks around the gorge, and we hoofed it to all of them. The farther up we went, the more spectacular the views. At the highest of the overlooks, we tore into our little cache of snackies, including our wine for toasting. From here, we saw a little bear cub hanging out in a tree a short distance down the mountainside, which was pretty neat, although we really hoped Mama Bear wouldn't come wandering our way because, at the overlook, escape routes were... shall we say... limited. (When I say limited, I mean going over the edge of the cliff....)

As it turned out, we had no bear worries and eventually made our way back down to the parking area. By now, it was mid-afternoon, and since the trail snackies were not exactly filling, we were all famished. Not far away, we found a little place called The Famous Rockhouse, a quaint, southern-style diner, where the prices are right and they make a very fine cheeseburger.

Not far away lay Linville Falls Winery, so we decided to haul ourselves over to it and sample their wares. It's a lovely location, and there was a good crowd on hand, with a band performing music. Now, I really hate to up and say it when a lovely place has terrible wine, so today, the less said about the wine, the better.

Our home-away-from-home featured a game room in the basement, with an arcade-style video game console featuring Pac-Man and Galaga, which were kinda fun to revisit. And there was a foosball table, which provided much entertainment. Back in college, I played a lot of foosball, especially with one of my roommates, and back then, I was pretty damn good at it.

 

That was a very long time ago. This time around, I scored more points for my opponents than for myself.

 

And then that was all she wrote. Nighty-night.

Miscreants on the rocks...again

L: Brugger on a precarious perch. R: She put some pointers on her photo to make sure you see where the bear is.

"What the hell is that? What the HELL is that? Hey, kid, don't put your lips on that thing! What the HELL is that?"

A view of the Linville River down in the gorge

Winery antics. No, I did not clock Ms. B. a good one in the jaw. She had a problematic filling at the dentist the other day, which left her beauty...marred. You should have seen the dentist afterward!

Winding down in the aftermath

Saturday, June 6, 2026
After loading up this morning, we checked out of our place and headed into Blowing Rock, where we planned to meet Terry & Beth's son Bryon and his wife, Mary at 1:00 p.m. for lunch. Since we had a couple of hours, I went geocaching, Terry went in search of coffee, and Brugger and Beth went shopping. Once I completed the caching activities, I rendezvoused with Terry for more coffee. Eventually, our group reunited, and we met Bryon and Mary at The Speckled Trout Restaurant. Now, this was a lunch. Excellent drinks (Bloody Marys for some of us), and delicious vittles (I had smoked trout with hoppin' john).

Mayview Lake, taken while out geocaching

At last, it was time for goodbyes, and Brugger and I hit the road for Martinsville. We arrived back right at 6:00 p.m. All in all, I'd say this proved to be a superlative weekend with good friends, with beaucoup laughs, chats, refreshments, and more. I'm quite sure we'll be doing this kind of thing again, and hopefully sooner than later.

So, bye-bye for now.

A North Myrtle New Year

Tuesday, December 30, 2025

To celebrate New Year's, Brugger and I usually go... somewhere... more often than not with friends. This year, we'd settled on North Myrtle Beach, including special guest stars Terry & Beth and Bob & Yvonne. As it turned out, Bob & Yvonne couldn't get away on Tuesday with the rest of us, so they opted to come down on Wednesday morning.

Brugger and I took off about 9:30 a.m. this morning, bound for a nice condo called Crescent Sands we'd found in North Myrtle. On a previous trip southward, we'd stopped for lunch at La Cabana Mexican Restaurant in Rockingham, NC, which was really excellent, so we visited it again this time. Again, excellent. I highly recommend their margaritas.

I snagged a handful of geocaches along the way, and we rolled into our lodgings at the beach about 4:00 p.m. Terry & Beth had just arrived themselves, so we opened a couple of bottles of wine—the really good wine—and generally made merry. Just before sunset, I hoofed it up the beach to find a cache. Done and done. We enjoyed some fabulous smoked pulled pork for dinner, courtesy Terry & Beth's son, Brian, and then spent the evening shooting all kinds of shit. As of now, as it's closing on midnight, we're about shit-shot out, and our beds are calling us loudly.

 

Till tomorrow.

Wednesday, December 31, 2025

I was up and at 'em first thing this morning, heading into the wilds of North Myrtle for some caching—after a bucket of coffee, of course. I set my sights on two relatively nearby hides. I found one; the other one, a puzzle cache, was missing a vital piece of information for the final coordinates, so it was, unfortunately, a bust. The scenery was cool, at least.

Shortly, I got back to Crescent Sands, Bob & Yvonne arrived. We had a fairly massive charcuterie spread for lunch, courtesy of Beth, Kimberly, and Yvonne, along with a few lovely beverages (Dark & Stormies for Brugger and me). During the afternoon, I went trucking around the long outdoor corridors to get in my daily steps and burn off the lunch drink. It was pretty danged cold out there, I can tell you.

 

Toward the end of the afternoon, we gathered ourselves up and headed to Wine Therapy, a nice little wine bar a couple of miles up the road. It was happy hour, so we sampled several wines, all of which were very good, and some were even better.

 

We had reservations for 6:00 p.m. at The Brentwood Restaurant in Little River, not far up the road, so we arrived right on time and had a fine feast for our last dinner of 2025. I had escargot, duck confit, and bread pudding, with a very good Willamette Pinot Noir to accompany. I think everyone was satisfied with their choices, and our servers were excellent. They've been implementing a new payment system, though, and it didn't work properly, so we had to spend a fair while afterward trying to sort things out. I think it's all good, but if not, I think everything will be made right. (This was NOT a cheap dinner.)

I picked up a nearby cache afterward, and then we retired to Crescent Sands, where we played dice games and generally made merry for most of the evening. A little before midnight, Ms. B. and I went walkies on the beach, though we found neither fog nor fireworks, which have traditionally been the hallmarks of New Year's Eve at the beach. It was frigid and windy out yonder, so we didn't walk far.

At the strike of midnight, we old folks enjoyed a champagne toast and then crashed for the night. Happy New Year.

Thursday, January 1, 2026 Bob & Yvonne made a fantastic breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast this morning, and talk about hitting the spot. It hit the spot, yes. Afterward, I ventured out on the caching trail, i.e., south toward Myrtle Beach proper. The highlight was a long walk on the East Coast Greenway, where I found three caches and a couple of cool sights—a large fossil rock and a big tree trunk carved into a bench, labeled "Caution." I found it amusing. At the end of it all, I found eight caches, which, for me, cleans out most of the Myrtle Beach area, except for several way down south toward Surfside. I expect I'll have an opportunity to hunt those on a future trip—and it'd be nice if some new ones come out between now and then.

L: Interesting fossil rock found along the trail; R: My first signed log of 2026

Don't sit on THAT bench!

Once back at Crescent Sands, I had a wee lunch, courtesy of Yvonne, who made some ham & cheese sliders. Soon, the women all went shopping, leaving Bob, Terry, and me to our own devices. These devices included going to a nearby liquor store and buying Bloody Mary fixings. We took advantage of those and made Bloody Marys. Twice over.

During this little spell of mellow time, I made reservations at a nice VRBO in Providence, RI, in August, when Kim and I will be heading up to Necronomicon and very likely Newport.

 

For dinner, we opted for Landshark Bar & Grill at nearby Barefoot Landing, a resort area where we spent many good times in years past with my late, much-lamented friend Bridgett and her husband, Gerry. Dinner was very enjoyable—good food, drinks, and service.

 

And so that pretty much completed our New Year's adventure. In general, this trip turned out to be fairly low-key; a bit more mellow than some in recent years. All in all, though, this made for a welcome respite from some of the lunacy in our "normal" day-to-day states of being.

 

May 2026's light shine bright for all of us.

Georgia on my Mind...Again (or Still)

Home away from home in Gainesville, Georgia—the "Blue Bungalow"

Back in July of last year, old friend, horror aficionado extraordinaire, and head honcho of the storied Overlook Connection, Dave Hinchberger, along with his wife, LeeAnn, of Atlanta, Georgia, graced Brugger and me with their presences at our home in Virginia. So, Ms. B. and I decided then and there that we needed to make another pilgrimage to the Peach State and punish these people for their egregious trespasses. We calculated that, while we were at it, we could also subject friend/fellow author Leverett Butts, as well as my cousin and namesake, Mark Bell, both of whom live in the area, to our lunatic ravings. So, we conferred with all the parties involved and set the date for a new sojourn—the week before Thanksgiving (a.k.a. now).

 

But then...poor Mr. Moose. A few weeks ago, our cat, Moose, came down with pancreatitis (see "Mr. Moose," November 7, 2025), which was pretty serious, but he's come through it all reasonably well. Regardless, Kimberly did not feel that she could go away with him still needing medication and a strictly regulated feeding schedule. So, since plans had already been engraved in some pretty heavy stone, with Ms. B.'s blessing, I decided to make the pilgrimage myself, as I have on several previous occasions. I'm very sad that Ms. B. couldn't make it because I know she would have had a hell of a good time, but so much of my fondness for coming to Georgia hearkens back to my long personal history here.

So, this week, I'm making some more personal history.

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Wednesday, November 19, 2025

For the first time in decades, I made the trip to Gainesville without any major traffic and/or construction woes. Make no mistake, the interstate was wall-to-wall traffic, but with nary a single significant slowdown along the way (although the plethora of relatively new traffic lights on US 129 between I-85 and Gainesville are enough to make the Pope say "Goddamn!"). It was about a seven-hour drive, counting a 20-minute lunch and several pee and geocaching stops. In Gaffney, South Carolina, there's a big water tower in the shape of a peach (called the Peachoid), which I've passed countless times since I was a kid, but a couple of newish caches there—one a virtual and one a traditional—led me to visit it for the first time ever. It's kind of a cool landmark.

 

I rolled into Gainesville about 3:15 p.m. and settled in at the AirBnB we had reserved (it's called the "Blue Bungalow"). Since Ms. B. isn't here, it's more than plenty spacious. It's located in a very familiar area, only a couple of blocks from where my grandparents lived. A few of my other relatives lived nearby as well. Also, my mom went to elementary school right around the corner from here; the site is still a school, though it's a much newer building than in her day.

 

Since it's only about a mile to downtown from the B&B, I set out on foot to hunt down dinner. I was not surprised to find myself making a slight detour to walk past my grandparents' old place. On a previous trip, I met the current owners, which was very pleasant, but they did not appear to be at home this evening. Before I even left Martinsville, I had already decided to seek dinner at Bourbon Brothers Smokehouse & Tavern, just off the town square, and this proved to be an excellent choice. I had a brisket sandwich with fries and a Buffalo Trace Old Fashioned, both of which about made me stand up and holler. I didn't, but I almost did.

Hell yeah, brisket...

After I was done, I wandered around the square a little, as it looked to be hopping. Even since my two visits here in 2022, there are tons of new shops and dining/drinking establishments, and I expect I'll be sampling a few of them before I head out on Sunday. Again, it really is a pity that Brugger isn't here because she I know she would go ga-ga over a bunch of these places.

 

By the time I hoofed it back to the Bungalow, it was well after dark. I still needed a few provisions, so I drove to the nearby Publix supermarket and stocked up on some goodies. I worked on this blog for a bit, and then...crashing time. Sitting in a car most of the day is always exhausting.

 

Tomorrow, I plan to have lunch with Mr. Butts, and on Friday, I'll be heading to Atlanta to visit with the Hinchbergers. For tonight, I are done.

Evening falls on Gainesville's town square

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Thursday, November 20, 2025

I woke up pretty early, made eggs for breakfast, and, once I got going, set out after some geocaches in the area. Most of these were of the simple park & grab variety, though a couple were innovative and unique. At 11:30 a.m., I rolled over to El Sombrero Mexican Restaurant, near the University of North Georgia, where Mr. Leverett Butts works (though he was off today), and met him for an excellent lunch. We carried on extensively about our writing adventures; Dark Shadows; monsters of all sorts, including, cats; and other such apt topics for a couple of scary writers. I mean, as in writers of scary things. Of course that's what I mean.

After we parted company, I hunted several more geocaches and found all but one. Actually, I'm pretty sure I found the cache container, but there was trick to opening it that I couldn't figure out from cache page description (late addendum: no, that was not the cache, for the cache owner wrote to give me a clue what to look for). I made another stop for a few extra supplies, and then I returned to the Blue Bungalow, where I caught up on some correspondence, blogged, and worked on my current novel. I decided that, rather than go out and eat again, I'd tear into some of the handy-dandy provisions I had picked up for just such a purpose. And since I'm venturing toward Atlanta tomorrow to have a first-class lunch with Dave and LeeAnn Hinchberger, I'm sure I shan't starve on this trip.

Then, rather than wandering down to the bustle and lights of the square again, I decided to take a long, mostly peaceful walk around my old stomping grounds. (The only non-peaceful part was crossing Green Street, both coming and going. It's one of the busiest roads anywhere, so getting from one side to the other is like playing Frogger. I got a couple of honks, but I survived.) One of my destinations was the nearby Ivy Terrace Park, where I spent tons of time and energy as a kid. In my teen years, when we'd come to visit my grandparents, Dad would strap our bicycles to the top of the station wagon, so when we got here, my brother and I went wild on them—frequently in the park. The city has installed lights along the trails, which are very pretty, but I don't think it's as much fun as wandering around there in the dark, like we used to.

I've posted pictures of it before, but here it is again (below). There's a little stone spring house in the park that's been there since my mom was a kid, and it looks just the same as it did when I was a young'un. I seem to recall finding a snake in there once.

It was kind of nice seeing many of the houses already decorated for Christmas. This really brings back so many wonderful ghosts of Christmas past, since I spent every Christmas from my very first year of life up through my late twenties at my Grandparents' place here in Gainesville.

That is gonna be it for my ramblings this evening. Tomorrow, I'll be up pretty early to head to Atlanta.

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Friday, November 21, 2025

I had a feeling that the absence of traffic ills on the way from Martinsville to Gainesville was too good to last. The traffic woes between Gainesville and Atlanta today were damn near enough to put me off Atlanta. I've spent countless good times there over the past six-plus decades, and being there today was just something I really wanted—and kind of needed—to do. But on my way in, the last twenty miles on I-85 were a hellish, creeping horror. Then, when I left, it was a hellish, creeping horror for thirty-some miles outbound—the worst part being that the massive jams extended to every secondary road, back road, and residential road for miles and miles around. I know this because I left the interstate to travel them. It was a long, beyond-frustrating drive back to the Blue Bungalow, exacerbated by the fact that, by the time I hit the Gainesville city limits, I really had to pee.

Yeah, the photo to the left is of a random Atlanta building near where I was geocaching. It's the only photo I took in the city, except for a selfie of Dave, LeeAnn, and me, below:

Originally, I had planned to meet Dave and LeeAnn at the Steamhouse Lounge at 11:30 a.m. However, they had some stuff come up and moved the meeting time to 1:00 p.m. As it turned out, it's a good thing I set out early, since it took so damned long to get into the city. I still had time hunt a couple of geocaches, which was fun. Then, given the traffic situation, they were held up until past 1:30. I had parked my car in a nearby garage, and my space expired at 2:45. Since I wasn't in a position to get back there and add time to the total, we ended up having a relatively quick lunch. Still, I consider this some much-valued time together. Hopefully, wherever and whenever we gather again, Brugger will be able to make it.

 

Once finally back at my lodgings, I decided to shower, have a scotch, work on my blog, and listen to some 1960s lounge music. Hey, if I'm gonna be a bachelor here, I'm gonna go all at it. I ordered some sushi for dinner from Dynamite Sushi, Steak, & Grill and had it delivered by DoorDash, which I haven't done in forever. It was some right good dead fish, not to mention healthier than that delicious fried catfish and french fries I killed at lunch.

 

All in all, it would have been an altogether pleasant day in the city—geocaching, seeing good friends, and having an excellent lunch—if not for the round trip taking about three times longer than under less hellish traffic conditions.

I am a just about worn-out old dude, so I'm chilling for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow, it's more visiting, this time with my cousin, Mark. I expect I'll fit in some more caching for my last full day in town. And I'm pretty sure I'm gonna darken the doors of Southern Recess Gastropub, which has long been among my favorite dining establishments anywhere.

 

And thus, till laters.

Damned Rodan, Lounge Lizard

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Saturday, November 22, 2025

This morning, I went over to visit my cousin, Mark Bell, and his wife, Sylvia, which was indeed a lovely time. They (and their children, who are about my age) are damn near my last living relatives on my mom's side. They have a very nice house not very far from here, and as it turns out, their son Robert knows the owner of this AirBnB, as they worked together for many years. Interesting how such connections randomly come about. I didn't think to take any photos this morning, but the photo below is Mark & Sylvia from 2013 (they hardly look any different!), when Kimberly, Mom, and I came to Gainesville, primarily so that Mom could attend her 60th high school class reunion.

For the afternoon, I braved the insanity of Gainesville's congested roads (shudder), and went geocaching for a couple of hours. It was pretty enjoyable, as I found all those that I hunted, including the one I did not find the other day. It turned out to be one of my favorite hide types.

 

Once back at the Blue Bungalow, I made myself clean and reasonably purty, and then walked downtown, where there was some variety of Christmas festival coming together. (I understand it's called "Jingle Mingle," and one of the highlights is lighting up a big-ass chicken sculpture on the city administration building; since way back when, Gainesville has been known as "The Poultry Capital of the World." I can attest to this by way of having suffered the reek of chicken processing plants around here on perhaps a few too many occasions in the past.). Tons of folks were migrating to the square, which was decorated for the occasion. My specific target was North Georgia BBQ & Oyster Shop, which I had settled on for dinner instead of Southern Recess, since I had never tried the former—and I love both BBQ and oysters. It was a good choice. I had a half-dozen raw oysters on the half shell, which were DAMNED delicious, with all kinds of sauce and seasonings, and some hot & spicy smoked chicken wings (they came with a large pile of celery and carrots, so at least I did get some veggies with this feast). Brugger and I are gonna plan to come back to Gainesville soon, and I know she'll go for the BBQ, though not the oysters. Leave that to me!

Afterward, I decided to try out a relatively new wine bar called Cork It, right there on the square. I tried a Washington Cabernet Sauvingnon, which was quite good. They had a small orchestra warming up to play Christmas music, but I didn't hang around long enough to give them a listen. Of all my discoveries in Gainesville on this trip, Cork It will be the one that Brugger will be most inclined to visit.

 

On my walk back from downtown, I snapped a few photos of some of the houses in the area, as they are among those that remain from the days of my youth. They include my grandparents' house, my great uncle & aunt's house, and a fair-sized mansion at Green Street & Forrest Ave, which I always loved. Back in the 1980s, when I was regularly doing pen & ink artwork, I drew all of these houses. Below, I'm posting the recent photos of those houses and my old pen & ink renderings of them.

Although the traffic and the rampant development here does not please me, as in not at all, Gainesville still feels like my second home, especially since I've renewed a great relationship with my cousin Mark and his wife, Sylvia. Being here brings home the fact that I am the last of my immediate family, and my brain is literally the last existing repository of intimate, personal knowledge of my parents, my brother, my grandparents, and other relatives. And so, on these personal blogs, I am inclined to write all the details I can, so that at least some of my most meaningful recollections will perhaps survive me in some fashion.

 

Tomorrow, I'm off for home, probably pretty early. Despite a couple of niggling physical issues that made functioning normally a bit harder than I like, not to mention the billions of metric tonnes of human beings stuffed into too small an area, I absolutely hope to continue returning to Gainesville for as long as I am able.

 

Arrivederci, America. 

Above: my grandparents' old place on Forrest Avenue as it appears currently, and my drawing of it from the 1980s

Above: my great uncle & aunt's former house on Park Street and my pen & ink rendering from 1980s; the only copy I have of this is a 3" x 5" postcard reproduction, so it's not as well-defined as the original.

Above: one of the classic Gainesville mansions on Green Street, taken today, and my pen & ink drawing of it from the 1980s