Black Friday at Black Tooth Pond

I needed to perform maintenance on a geocache out on the Dick & Willie Trail near uptown, so I headed out fairly and hiked out to it. Once I'd replaced the old, damaged container, on a whim, I decided to drive over to my old high school and see if I could get back to Black Tooth Pond, where I'd misspent countless hours back in my checkered past (you can read about an early adventure or two here,)

I gave Black Tooth Pond its name because, when I first discovered it, several hundred yards down a little dirt road behind the high school, a large number of old tree trunks protruded from the water at the pond's farthest end. (In more recent years, my dear, late friend Pete Wells, an expert in local history, informed me its actual name is Lester Pond; the Lesters have been a prominent family in this area for many, many years.) In 11th grade, circa 1976, my biology class hoofed it down the old road to the pond and took samples to test for water quality. Later, I furthered my education here with a select number of female specimens of the species. Not long afterward, I returned to the area to conduct experiments with certain chemical substances, the results of which are in mostly hazy.

I knew from looking at Google Maps that, some time ago, most of the woods around the pond had been razed, which pisses me off royally. (Around these parts, wooded areas no longer stay wooded very long. I'm assuming the motherfuckers want the trees solely for the wood, since, inevitably, only hideous scrub grows back in place of the once-healthy forests.) Thankfully, the pond remains back there amid all those now-desolate acres, though with only a thin ring of living trees surrounding it. Almost all the old trunks that once jutted from the far end of the pond have finally succumbed to the elements. Only a couple of very small, stubby trunks still protrude from the water.

Still, I very much enjoyed walking back there and taking a few photos. My latest short story, titled "The House at Black Tooth Pond," which is based both on this location and an ancient, abandoned house my brother and I discovered out in the county a good thirty years ago, will be appearing next year in a new anthology, titled Shunned Houses, edited by S.T. Joshi and Katherine Kerestman. Of course, I will post updates on the book as it gets nearer to release time.

Black Friday indeed.

View of Black Tooth Pond from 2010. As you can see, in those days, far more unspoiled forest surrounded it. More of the old tree trunks in the water are visible here, although even then, they were far fewer and smaller than when I first laid eyes on the location in the mid-1970s.

Another current view

A very old bench overlooking the water

A view of the current terrain, which up until recently was lush, beautiful forestland.

Happy Big Bird Day!

About sunrise this morning, I hopped (read hobbled groggily) out of bed, grabbed a quick cup of coffee at the nearby Valero Station, and hit the road for a geocaching breakfast event at friends Tom & Linda's place in Browns Summit, back in the direction of our old homeplace in Greensboro. A number of local cachers showed up, and — as will happen at such events — many geocaching discussions ensued. Tom & Linda provided eggs, sausages, biscuits, coffees, and juices, but I fortified myself only a little, since, back in Martinsville, a massive feast awaited us, courtesy of Ms. B., who stayed home rather than venture out to mingle with a bunch of mad cachers.

We had planned on old family friends, Gretchen & Dick, to join us for the Big Feast, but sadly, illness had struck their household, and they had to bow out. My daughter, Allison, at least, graced us with her presence, so we still ended up with a lovely, compact family gathering. We enjoyed a massive, MASSIVE feast featuring turkey, stuffing, smashed taters, green bean casserole, cranberry relish, maple bars, and vino. Since we had calculated on additional bodies at our table, we had more leftovers than the law otter allow, so, after we were done, I drove up to the hill to Gretchen & Dick's place and delivered a big ol' care package of fixins.

Allison wanted to watch Child's Play, which neither of us had seen in about a century, so we settled in for an afternoon horror flick. I'd like to say I enjoyed it, but... Well, the experience was as fun as could be. The movie, not really.

Ms. B. had suffered a morning migraine, so as the day drew toward sunset, she retired to her chambers for a power nap. I set out walking around the neighborhood, which I do most every day, and put in about two and a half miles à pied. I probably worked off at least a few bites of dead bird.

The fall and winter holidays have always been a special time in my family, and now that I am the last of them, I treasure days like this. No, things aren't the same as in those wonderful old days, not by a long shot, but I love these times no less, and in some ways, maybe more than ever.

Whatever you and your loved ones celebrate, may it be happy, meaningful, and lasting for you.

Casa di Rodan

The view from the hill

At Lake Lanier, just down the street

The view toward home

There Is Fire Where You're Going

Last night, friends Joe & Suzy hosted a chili cook-off with a bunch of folks, complete with awards for numerous recipe superlatives. Ten variations, with a wide range of ingredients, flavors, and spices. It may come as no surprise to most who know my tastes that I took the award for the deadliest heat (see the trophy at left).

I had cooked up a sizable batch of chili a few weeks ago and froze the leftover, which was almost a full pot in itself. The heat for this batch proved damned near inedible for some, and while I enjoyed its very rich, full flavor as much as any I've ever made, the fire was almost too much for me to handle. That, my friends, is some pretty special fire.

I rarely use a set recipe for my dishes — I tend to start throwing stuff together and see where it leads. Almost without exception, this method has led me to some fantastic dinners, the obvious problem being that reproducing it reliably is usually out of the question. Regardless, here's a recipe that I'd say comes about as close as possible to this most deliciously painful concoction.

Damned Rodan's Nuclear Fusion Chili

What You Need (serves four):

• 1 lb of ground Angus beef

• 1/2 yellow onion, chopped

• 16 oz. can mixed chili beans

• 10 oz. can diced tomatoes with habanero peppers (I use Ro-Tel brand)

• 2/3 cup Clamato juice 

• 7 oz. can chipotle peppers in adobo sauce (I use La Costeña)

• 6 oz. can tomato paste

• 1.5 oz. packet of chili seasoning powder (I use McCormick)

• tbsp chili powder

• tbsp cumin

• 2 habanero peppers, chopped fine

• juice and zest of 1 lime

For topping:

• green onions, chopped

• cilantro, chopped

• grated pepper jack cheese

What You Do:

1)  Brown the ground beef in a skillet and drain the excess grease.

2)  Move ground beef to large soup pot. Add onion, chili beans (drained or undrained, depending on personal preference), Clamato juice, tomato paste, chili seasoning powder, chili powder, and cumin. Cook on medium for 15 minutes, stirring regularly.

3)  Add diced tomatoes, chipotle peppers/adobo sauce, chopped habaneros, lime juice & zest. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 1 hour, stirring occasionally.

4)  Serve with your choice of toppings.

5)  Break out the fire extinguisher.

Holy Turkey Buzzards, Catman!

I went outside to write on the porch to avoid the editorial efforts of certain young cats. You can't really see much in the photos, but the trees in the backyard are filling up with turkey buzzards. And they keep swooping down disturbingly close to me. I wonder if the buzzards know something I don't...

L: The writer seeking to escape R: the editor in question.

The Brig Podcast, Featuring Kasey Lansdale and Deathrealm: Spirits

The newest edition of Steve Van Samson’s The Brig podcast features Kasey Lansdale talking about her many creative endeavors, including her new short story, “The Disappeared,” which I published in Deathrealm: Spirits from Shortwave Publishing. Check it out here:

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The Brig: Try Everything and Power Through (with Kasey Lansdale)

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Ghost Train & Other Geocaches

I set out to do maintenance on a couple of the geocaches I own out on the Dick & Willie Passage, not far out of Uptown Martinsville this morning. I did maintenance, all right, but — rather unexpectedly — I also placed three new caches. I hadn’t really planned on doing so, but it was as nice a morning as we’ve had lately, and I’ve had it in my head recently that I really should hide a few new ones in town.

So... I bloody well did.

 

Due to the character of the terrain around the trail, two of the three are physically challenging (in fact, I called one of them “The Bad Place,” hinting at where you might end up should you lose your footing). Since the Dick & Willie is a rail trail, several of my caches out there are train-themed, and my favorite of the new ones is called “The Ghost Train.” A similar hazard awaits you here as well, for should you lose your footing, look forward to becoming a ghost doomed to wander the old rail trail from now till eternity...

The cache listings have been submitted to geocaching.com, so I hope they’ll be published quite soon, while the weather is still conducive to trail hiking. I got in several miles of walking, so with all the up and down of placing the caches as well, the old dude managed to get a bit sore. I reckon it’s nothing a little splash of the Old Infuriator won’t help with.

Tricks, Treats, Ghosties, Ghoulies, and Disembodied Heads

Ahh, there's nothing like some spooky Halloween (or in this case, pre-Halloween) geocaching. On Monday, I hauled myself up the thirty or so miles of scenic backroads to Rocky Mount, VA, primarily to hunt an Adventure Lab cache that takes you on a fun little ghost tour of downtown. Before hitting the town proper, though, I detoured over to some nearby woods to hunt a handful of caches I had yet to find. The first of these made my day — primarily because I did not expect what I found. Needless to say, the photo is a spoiler, so for the sake of the geocachers who follow this blog, I'll not reveal the cache name or its location. Suffice it to say that this one pretty well made my day.

After snagging a couple of more hides, I headed into town to hunt the ghostly Adventure Lab cache. It had five stages, each of which took me to a supposedly haunted location. None of these were particularly spooky, but I enjoyed visiting them for their historic significance. The most interesting to me was finding the original law office of Confederate General Jubal Early, under whom my great-great-great-grandfather and his brothers served during the Civil War. I hope that if any of these ghosts are roaming out and about, they haven't remained "unrepentant rebels," as Early himself was reputed to be following the war.

After the geocaching, I found a so-so lunch at a little Japanese place in Rocky Mount and then rode over to Ferrum College for a brief visit to my old alma mater. After that, home.

For the evening's entertainment, Ms. B. and I watched Hocus Pocus, which is one of her Halloween standards. Back when, I never thought I'd particularly enjoy this one, but it turns out that I very much do. Go figure.

Jubal Early's original law office in Rocky Mount, VA

The reputedly haunted "Farm at the Furnace"

Come Halloween morning, I was up early to fire up the crockpot for a big-ass pork butt. I had it cooking all day, seasoned it up nicely, and, come dinnertime, Ms. B. and I found ourselves with a damned good pulled pork feast. Our plan was to sit out on the front porch with the yard decorations blazing in hopes we might get a few trick-or-treaters. Since I hadn't spent Halloween in this house for many, many years, I had no idea what the turnout might be like.

It was considerably more impressive than I'd expected. We'd counted on a handful, at best, but we ended up with something like thirty. The weather cooperated nicely; it rained during the morning but cleared up by mid-afternoon. After the first couple of groups, I had to hie myself back to the grocery store to pick up more goodies. Happily, they'd already reduced the price on most of the chocolate treats, so I got a whole bunch of the good stuff (Reese's Take Fives). We still ended up with a wee bit left. But I found it very gratifying to see quite a few kids in costume — and all very polite. I understand the turnout was good just about everywhere in town. That makes me feel rather less curmudgeonly than usual.

To end the evening, we watched Disney's The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, which Ms. B. wanted to see. I think I saw this as a kid, but I can't be 100% certain. Anyway, it was fairly fun, with great animation. Then we put on Carpenter's Halloween just for shits & giggles, but by the time we got well into the film, the day's rigors and the evening's drink served to mellow me out a bit before the end of the film (as in snoring mellow, according to Brugger). Anyhoo, at least I know how the movie ends.

T'was a damn nice Halloween. I'll take it.

Appetizers on the porch prior to having trick-or-treaters (Mmm.)

Happy Horrorween!

Another Haunted Gathering

Halloween gatherings are generally my very favorite kind of gathering, and pretty much every year, we either attend or host one with some of our very best friends. Last year, in Greensboro, we had a pretty damned big one; this year, for a variety of reasons, we opted to go much smaller. Still, it was a dozen freaky folks here at Ground Zero, and it was a hollering good time. Lots of great food, a variety of boos, and a fun brain game or two.

Our friends Bob & Yvonne brought along their 15-year-old grandson, Eli, and he fit right in with this particular gangsome. He decided to leave earlier than our other guests, and since his place is in walking distance, he set out on foot. Now, Eli was wearing an inflatable alien-carrying-a-human costume, which was by no means conducive to graceful mobility. When he left, the road was dark, and he went booking along at pretty high speed. Then... a couple of cars came by and caught him in their headlights. Clearly, the drivers were shocked, for they slowed way down and gave him very wide berth. For us, this provided the biggest laugh of the entire year. You sort of had to be there, but I trust you get the picture.

Sadly, we didn't get that many photos of the attendees in costume. Once things got going, the cameras were pretty much forgotten. Alas! Anyhoo, some of us did snap a few shots from time to time. We ended the evening with a showing of The Mist, which went very late indeed.

We've got another gathering — a Halloween geocaching event — to look forward to, and of course we'll have movies aplenty to keep us busy until the big day.

Deathrealm: Spirits in the Wild!

A few of the authors of Deathrealm: Spirits displaying the incriminating evidence of the horrors they have wrought!

Left to right, top to bottom: Jeff Oliver ("The Devil's Bounty Hunter"), Kasey Lansdale ("The Disappeared"), Bridgett Nelson ("Dying River"), Elizabeth Massie("The Campsite), Heather Daughrity ("A Shadow Slowly Shifting"), Meghan Arcuri, ("Fort Lonely")

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Deathrealm: Spirits at Shortwave Publishing

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Steve Hackett at Durham's Carolina Theater

Supper's Ready

An awesome show last night by Steve Hackett at the Carolina Theater in Durham. A 2.5-hour performance, with a brief intermission, followed by every cut from Genesis's Foxtrot album. For me, the absolute highlight was the first encore — "Firth of Fifth" from Selling England by the Pound. And "Every Day" from Spectral Mornings was so perfect I hollered real loud. The instrumentation sounded great, although the vocals were a bit muddy, alas. I'd seen Steve back in 1980 at the Agora Ballroom in Atlanta, leaning up against the stage, literally at Steve's feet. Here, we were a bit farther back, in the first balcony, but the view and sound turned out to be fantastic.

 

Running into friend and fellow author Richard Dansky was a treat. Rich narrowly escaped being bombed by a full cup of beer falling from the balcony above. Yesterday was his birthday — thankfully, he survived it, hopefully to see many more. Next time, I hope we run into each other long enough to share drinks and stories (minus plummeting cups).

 

An altogether fine evening for Brugger and me.

Can-Utility and the Coastliners

Encore!

Pre-concert wine with Ms. B. at West End Wine Bar

T-Minus 0: DEATHREALM: SPIRITS

Why, yes, here 'tis: the offical release day for Deathrealm: Spirits! There's a better-than-average chance I'm gonna gush insufferably over this book, so be warned. I mean, damn, it features so many of the best of the best, why the hell wouldn't I?

It's been a long, weird road getting here, but I could hardly be happier with the result.

After Deathrealm magazine retired from service, back in 1997, I would say the single most-repeated question asked of me as an author/editor was "Will you ever bring Deathrealm back?" Until relatively recent years, I said "Not a chance in hell." Back in the late 1990s, keeping that monster on a regular quarterly schedule, with distributors going bankrupt by the score and the traditional publishing realm shifting (and in some cases collapsing in spectacular fashion), I figured I didn't have it in me to attempt to resurrect the property, at least not as it was back in the day.

However, as an anthology project, the idea had some allure. A couple of times in the past, I've floated the idea, and about five years ago, I even had a publisher lined up for it. Due to extenuating circumstances, it never came about, but in hindsight, I'm glad of this. There's no way that project could have come together the way Deathrealm: Spirits has.

I hope you'll check it out — and please, whatever you think of it, reviews are most appreciated!

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Deathrealm: Spirits at Shortwave Publishing

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My Memories of Lara Parker (R.I.P. October 12, 2023)

I just learned via actress Kathryn Leigh Scott that Lara Parker (née Mary Lamar Rickey), best known as Angelique from Dark Shadows has passed away at age 84 years old (October 27, 1938–October 12, 2023). Lara and Kathryn have been good friends since the days of Dark Shadows, so my heart goes out particularly to Kathryn for her personal loss.

I remember the first time I saw Lara as Angelique on Dark Shadows, and I fell in love with her right there on the spot. She was beautiful, powerful, menacing, passionate... everything a nine-year-old boy could possibly desire, apparently. Back then, I adored everything about Dark Shadows, especially Jonathan Frid as Barnabas, but it was when Angelique appeared on the screen that I melted into a mass of lovestruck goo.

After Dark Shadows went off the air, Lara appeared in numerous television series, such as Baretta, Kojak, Kolchak: The Night Stalker, Kung Fu, Remington Steele, The Six-Million-Dollar Man, and Switch, and a few theatrical films, such as Hi, Mom, Race with the Devil, and Save the Tiger. I made a point of watching most of these, and my youthful heart remained smitten, but it took a long time for me to get over my resentment over the cancellation of Dark Shadows... and thus Angelique.

Many moons later, Lara wrote a series of Dark Shadows novels, the first being Angelique's Descent, which HarperCollins released in 1998. At the time, Harper was planning a full series of Dark Shadows novels, and Elizabeth Massie and I secured a contract to write the second book — Dreams of the Dark, which was released in 1999. To my profound excitement, Lara wrote the introduction to our book, and to this day, I remain ridiculously geeked about this. Unfortunately, it wasn't long after Dreams of the Dark's release that Harper shuttered its media tie-in division, and this put the kibosh on Ms. Massie and I writing any further Dark Shadows novels for Harper. In the early 2000s, Tor Books contracted several more Dark Shadows novels from Lara.

Over the years, I attended a number of Dark Shadows events, but none was more memorable than my first — the 1999 Dark Shadows Festival at the World Trade Center in New York City. Most of the show's surviving stars were slated to appear and, more than anything, I looked forward to meeting Lara. And, in fact, she was literally the first familiar face I ran into at the festival. She greeted me cordially but had pressing obligations that prevented her from carrying on a lengthy conversation. Happily, several times, she and I were able to talk at greater length. However, the clincher for me was that she and I appeared together for a presentation on our respective Dark Shadows novels in front of the entire convention group. I had started out with a few butterflies in the old gut, but once things got under way, I managed to carry on without (much) embarrassing gushing.

I met numerous other Dark Shadows cast members at that and other gatherings, but that was the first and only time I ever got to spend any appreciable quality time with Lara Parker. And, of course, that was also the last Dark Shadows event at NYC's World Trade Center. I absolutely cherish the fact that I was able to spend some happy, memorable time there before it was gone forever.

To all Lara's friends and loved ones, I send all my sympathies and respect. She truly played a pivotal role in my childhood, and to me as an adult and an author, she added special meaning and nuance to my career. R.I.P., Lara.

Here are a couple of links to articles featuring some of Lara's thoughts on her acting and writing careers:

• The Collinsport Historical Society — Out of the Shadows: Lara Parker
• Tor/Forge Blog — Researching the Back Story by Lara Parker

On stage with Lara Parker at the 1999 Dark Shadows Festival at the NYC World Trade Center

The Darkest Corner of the Old Dominion

L–R: William R. D. Wood, Joe Maddrey, James L. Hill, Valerie B. Williams, J. T. Glover, Charles Wood,
Sidney Williams, Old Dude, Mike Rook, D. Alexander Ward

An interesting weekend, this. On Friday, I headed out bright and early, bound for Williamsburg, VA, to participate in today's group booksigning at Turn the Page Bookshop, the writers all having work in Dark Corners of the Old Dominion — a brand-new anthology featuring tales of horror set in Virginia by authors from Virginia. On the drive over, I stopped to hunt a fair number of geocaches (ten or so, I think) as well as procure lunch at Indian Fields Tavern in Charles City, which Brugger and I had discovered on a previous Williamsburg trip. On my previous visit, after experiencing one of their burgers, I went into an excited Tasmanian Devil conniption. This one — the "Charles City Burger" — sent me into that same infernal state. That, my friends, was one of the best fookin burgers I've ever tasted. Whoa!

I had a reservation at Williamsburg's America's Inn, which is pretty close to the Williamsburg Premium Outlets, where the bookshop is located. Upon arriving there and attempting to check in, I ended up having problem after problem, not the least of which was the hotel guy being unable to create a key that would unlock the room door. The room itself didn't appear horrible, but the building was in lousy shape, the WiFi didn't work, and there appeared to be no way to produce a key that would allow me to get in and out of the place. In other words, it was a fucking dump, so I left, figuring I could at least try to get a refund by way of Expedia. My unsolicited advice is to NEVER ATTEMPT TO STAY AT THIS FUCKING DUMP. And now, given the wholly unacceptable explanation that just came in from Expedia — that I will get no refund because they cannot reach anyone at said fucking dump —  Expedia is on my permanent shit list as well. Be warned.

So, anyhoo, there was a Hilton hotel next door, and since it was late on a Friday afternoon and I didn't care to risk going on a wild goose chase trying to find a habitable room somewhere in the vicinity, I went ahead and checked into the obscenely expensive but assuredly superior lodgings at the Hilton.

Saturday morning, after a fair breakfast at the hotel, I made my way up to the bookshop, where I met friend and fellow author/editor Joe Maddrey, one of the Virginia antho's editors. Joe had paid Ms. B. and me a pleasant visit in Martinsville fairly recently. Soon, our other editor, Mike Rook, arrived on the scene, followed by a veritable deluge of authors loaded with their books. Ten of us, there were, and after a while, a few customers began showing up. Most happily, old friend and proprietor of Horror Drive-In Mark Sieber dropped by. It's always great to see Mark. Back in the dark ages, we used to meet in Durham at the Starlight Drive-In, almost inevitably when the weather was freezing cold. Those were some wunderbar adventures...

Sadly, the weather turned nasty and stayed that way all day, so traffic flow in the store wasn't what any of us might have hoped. Regardless, I managed to do reasonably well, and I believe everyone moved at least a few books. So, overall, to my mind, the event turned out pretty decent. Once we closed up shop, most of us migrated to the nearby AleWerks for a spot of refreshment. And, finally, Joe Maddrey and I trucked down to Fat Tuna Grill & Oyster House, where I found myself facing an utterly incredible surf & turf dinner. I believe Joe enjoyed his dinner as well.

I love hanging out with authors I like and respect, and that counts in spades for this bunch of folks. A couple of them, like Joe Maddrey and Sidney Williams, I already knew, and it was a pleasure to make the others' acquaintance. At the end of the day, it's not just the book sales but the company at such events that make them so worthwhile.

Mike Rook devaluing a passel of copies of Dark Corners of the Old Dominion with his autograph

Author J. L. Hill supporting his little buddy, Fred

Fellow author and tablemate, Sidney Williams, looking entirely too pleasant, while at the left-most edge of the photograph, author Charles Wood furtively slaps his moniker on some books. Yeah, he thought he was gonna get away with it...

Madness at the Alewerks!

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