For the second winter break in a row, my parents were nice enough to take the kids to Florida, giving Catherine, the dog and I the chance to take a trip of our own.
Last year we headed north to New Paltz and this year our destination is south: Staunton, Virginia, a town in the valley between George Washington/Thomas Jefferson National Forests and Shenandoah National Park.
The drive was brutal. I thought we were headed out to the country, but apparently, I-81 is a total two-lane shitshow, especially on a Friday when people are traveling. We left at 10 AM, thinking we would avoid rush hour. Never again. Six hours of bumper to bumper traffic. Lola was in the back, and I was impressed that she didn't puke, but she was definitely dazed from the stop and go (as was I). I thought it would be more like the drive to Vermont: the farther you drive, the more the Jersey/New York traffic fades and the forests begin, but it turned out to be like the drive to Cape Cod: steady traffic and then more traffic (but add lots and lots of trucks, and very narrow lanes and abundant construction). This road is a sore spot among the folks that live out here. It needs to be three lanes.
Staunton-- or should I say "Stanton" . . . we found out that you pronounce it without the "u"-- is a beautifully preserved smallish mountain town (24,000). We are staying in an Airbnb on the top of one of the hills above downtown. It's a beautiful place with fantastic views, but when you are at the top of the hill and you walk to town (or Gypsy Hill Park) then you've got to get back UP the hill on your way home. It's fine to walk up after a few beers, but as my wife remarked, "I wouldn't want to walk this drunk!"
The first night in town we wandered about and ate at the Byers Street Bistro. Good place. I tried to start on my New Year's Resolution early (eat less meat) and so I had the fried green tomato sandwich. Awesome. We had Brussell sprouts for an appetizer, and they were also delicious, but not vegetarian. Lots of bacon! Oh well . . . I'm trying to eat less meat, not no meat at all.
Then we went to Redbeards Brewing Company, one of the many, microbreweries in the area. The beer was kind of nuts-- Catherine had to pour out her bourbon barrel-aged amber with a bunch of stuff in it. Luckily, it was sixty degrees and we were sitting outside, so her beer was easy to dispose of. The moral here: when there are too many words in a beer description, don't order it!
Staunton is a boutique town. There's a restored historic train station-- a working train station with a train to Richmond-- and there are British tourists wandering around. It is an incredibly scenic place. There was a long wait at the restaurant in the train station and Catherine overheard a British family discussing the queue. The dad said, sincerely: "This is what we could do, during the wait, to make it enjoyable . . . we could walk about town, conversing with each other and making the time pass . . ."
And then the mom chimed in, "And we could look at the many Christmas lighting displays!"
And the children heard this and did not murder their parents. The Brits are so civilized.
Interesting fact: we could have taken a train from Trenton to Staunton. Seven hours and twelve minutes. Longer than the car ride, but less treacherous. It would have been tough with the dog and all but it's an interesting option for those of you who are dogless and want to see this place. It's certainly a walking town and you could rent bikes or something to get farther afield.
Though we were without the kids, Lola more than picked up the slack. She was up most of the night, pacing and carsick. She finally vomited a bit at 3 AM. Catherine went and slept in the downstairs bedroom. I consoled Lola until she fell asleep. I think she was overwhelmed from all the new smells in the house-- it's a dog-friendly Airbnb, and that combined with the ride screwed her up.
Tomorrow's post-- Day 2-- will be much more action-packed.
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