Nashville 2017

We drove up to State College late in the evening of Thursday, August 17, so that we'd be able to get our business done there early and be on our way. The business to be attended to consisted primarily of getting Eric set up in school for the two math classes he’d be taking in the upcoming fall semester, which began this following Monday. That took longer than I’d figured it would what with trying to obtain his school ID and text books, so we didn’t get on the road until about 3 PM.

At last we were on the road and took the main highway west out of town to Interstate 99. To get some miles under our belts, we took heavily traveled roads to Johnstown, where it might have been interesting to stop to see where the damn broke that caused the famed flood of 1889, but we didn’t figure there was time. To get a better sense of the countryside, we switched from the highway to rural routes. Upon entering West Virginia, the roadway suffered a serious deterioration. Why that is, I don't know. Perhaps the state is poor. Perhaps it doesn't care about the roads as much. Perhaps it was just circumstance.

Arriving in Morgantown just in time for the evening rush hour, we drove around looking for The Chestnut Hotel. On about our second pass through we found it and parked in its garage. Upon checking in, much to our surprise and chagrin, we learned that I’d made reservations for a date that had come and gone. And naturally they had no other available lodging. For a short spell, things looked and felt quite glum. The hotel clerk, however, was a helpful fellow, and called a couple of nearby hotels to find out if they had a vacancy. Luckily one such place did—the Clarion Morgan Hotel. The clerk cautioned us that it wasn’t a modern place. We weren’t in a position to be choosy, so we got back in the car and drove right to the Morgan two or three blocks away, where we found a place to park out front. And then we booked a room. Hallelujah! Amazingly, the room was cheaper than the one at the Chestnut, and although not as modern, it was a delightful room none the less, what with a sitting area and auxiliary room. And the hotel itself was historic with dark wood paneling throughout and a ton of character. We loved it all.

After finding a parking place, which proved to be a challenge, we set off to explore the town and find a place to have dinner. A place I’d run across online that interested me was called The Apothecary. It was located and visited. Their menu had few offerings; however, the fries and pizza rolls we ordered were quite tasty and proved to be more than enough food for us. And the beer selection was superb. Nice place all the way around and deserving of its 4.8-star rating.

After our repast, we hiked around town some more, stopping down by the river, and then hiking up the aptly named High St. to the campus. When I say up, I mean up and up and up for this is one hilly town. About two-thirds of the way up, we stopped at the WVU downtown campus student center called the Mountainlair. Inside we watched a bunch of students bouncing and falling on a large inflated contraption. It didn’t seem particularly safe, but it did look like fun. At the top of the hill we stumbled upon an outdoor fraternity party. I went to take a picture of downtown Morgantown at the bottom of the hill, which alarmed some of the frat boys, who must have thought I was going to mail pics of them boozing and toking to their poor deluded folks back home. One fellow who apparently wasn’t as paranoid, or wasted, calmed the others’ fears by pointing out that I was just taking a photo of the town.

Fortunately, the route back to our hotel was all downhill. On the way, we stopped at the Morgantown Brewing Company for another round of beers. Afterward, we headed back to our hotel to watch some TV and hang out. That didn’t last too long, however, because a little before midnight, Sharon grew tired. So she went to bed, and I went to the bar in the Morgan hotel for a couple of beers. It was a lovely bar with just a few customers, and I closed the place. Becky reports that while I was in the bar, Sharon became alarmed in her sleep.

Although our introduction to Morgantown was one of dejection, in the end the town and its ambiance won us over. The question now, however, was would we return.

My two very favorite women at The Apothecary

View from on high at WVU Downtown Campus

Fellow travelers at the Morgantown Brewing Company  

Sharon and Becky got up in time for the breakfast provided by the hotel, and brought me back a hard boiled egg and some other stuff. Soon thereafter we checked out of the hotel and began looking for the place where the University tour began. That place was the Marriott Hotel, which we assumed was in town. But we found out soon enough that it was not, so we drove around a bit, got lost a bit, and eventually found the Marriott with about an hour to spare.

During that hour, we parked the car in the hotel garage, went inside, where Becky got a coffee, and walked around a bit and waited. At 12:30 p.m., I believe, the tour began. There were about 40 perspective students with their parents on hand. First we were directed into a conference room, where a young female student with a cold provided an overview of life at the university. Then a third-year student, as I recall, took over the controls. His name was Isaac, he was of Asian ancestry, had grown up in California, was most animated, and would have us believe that there was no better place on earth than West Virginia University in Morgantown, West Virginia. Isaac herded us all into a relaxing tour bus, where for the next two plus hours, he took us on a tour of his beloved WVU.

One reason for a tour bus is that the campus is divided into three distinct locations or campuses as they’re called (they are Downtown, Health Sciences, and Evansdale). Another reason for the bus, as I’ve noted, it's a hilly area. I won't go into the details of the tour itself since it can probably be found online. I'll just say that it was a very good one, and we were quite impressed with the university, as we were with our tour guide, Isaac. One thing we learned is that the actor Don Knots, most famously known for his role as Barney Fife, was born in Morgantown, raised there, and attended WVU. In honor of that and his career as an actor, he has a major highway in town, a boulevard in fact, named after him. For 25 points, who can guess the name of that road?

Once the tour was over, we began the long drive to Lexington, Kentucky. At 332 miles, it was to be the longest stretch of the whole trip. And since we had nothing planned in between, we stopped in Charleston, West Virginia, to look around and find a place to have dinner. Charleston is about halfway between Morgantown and Lexington, and we pulled off the Interstate and into town about 6 PM or maybe a little later. Finding a place to eat, however, proved to be more challenging that I would have thought. We tried down by the waterfront, but there were no restaurants other than a Shoney's in the area. Eventually we found the heart of town and several nice restaurants. The one we settled upon was called The Block. It was an inviting corner restaurant, where we dined al fresco. We very much enjoyed a 20 oz. draft of a local brew called Almost Heaven, but our food, which consisted of a French dip sandwich and Caprese salad left something to be desired, as did Becky’s Sriracha maple chicken. And despite the hour, it was still uncomfortably hot, as it had been all day.

Then we continued the long haul to Lexington via Interstate 64. We found the Ramada and checked in at the registration desk, which looked to me like an ultramodern bar, and then headed to “our” room. There was only one problem with “our” room. There were two other people already in it, a man and a woman, and they were both in bed (sleeping I presume, before I burst in on them). They weren't particularly attractive people, so I concluded that we should get another room. The clerk at the bar/registration desk seemed to be expecting us back. At first, she didn't think there were any other rooms available, but eventually found one, and lo and behold, it was vacant. Just the way we like ‘em.

Our beer supply was running low, so we went on a beer run. Our first stop, by way of walking, was at a mini-market about a 100 yards from the hotel. Becky was concerned, however, about the character of the neighborhood. Judging by the clientele, she might have had a point, and the store’s beer stock was meagre, so we hopped in the car and drove a few miles where we found another place in another questionable neighborhood, but at least it had a better supply of beer. After restocking our supplies, we headed back to the Ramada, stopping along the way at a ho-down kind of bar, where we thought we might wet our whistle and grab a little bite to eat. But they didn't allow anyone underage, so that nixed that idea.

I don't recall what we did back at the hotel, but I expect we just enjoyed a few beers, watched some TV, and awaited our next day of adventure.

WVU Campus as seen from tour bus

Sharon & Becky in front of Woodburn Hall during campus tour

Two ladies & two Almost Heavens at The Block in Charleston, WV

Perhaps one reason the Ramada was the least expensive hotel we stayed in was that it did not include breakfast. So we made do without, at least for the time being and headed on the highway toward Mammoth Cave. The drive took us through the heart of Kentucky's famous horse farms. I would have liked to have explored them, but there simply wasn't time. Along this stretch, near the town of Versailles, loomed what by all indications was a castle right smack-dab in the middle of horse country. I later found out that the place currently functions as a resort called The Kentucky Castle, also known as Martin Castle and The Kentucky Post. A good history of the place can be found here http://mentalfloss.com/article/57275/kentuckys-30-million-castle.

I tried to reserve one of the guided tours at Mammoth Cave the night before, but they were all sold out, so it came no surprise that the place was packed. As it was, we had to settle for general admission, which allows one to explorer only the main cave, or more accurately a portion of the main cave. Even so we were very impressed with the subterranean world we explored. We didn't see much in the way of stalactites or stalagmites, nor did we descend any great depth like at Carlsbad Caverns, but all the same it's a wondrous world down there. Incidentally, I had been to the cave when I was a kid but remember almost nothing about it.

After emerging from the coolness of the cave, we hiked around the wooded park area a bit, and might have done more hiking had it not been so hot. Finally we checked out the gift shop, found nothing much to our liking, and got back on the road.

In the town of Bowling Green, Kentucky, we stopped at a Starbucks on Scottsdale Rd., where we ordered and consumed three lattes, a breakfast sandwich, a lemon pound cake, and a peanut butter & chocolate chip cookie. After that thoroughly healthy repast, we continued to Nashville.

About an hour or so later, via the interstate, we reach the outskirts of Nashville and found Fiddler’s Inn. There are not a lot of favorable things to say about the Fiddler other than it was cheap and available. Also, its location, about a half-mile from the Grand Ole Opry, turned out to be convenient. Checking in was a torturous affair, although I have no idea why that was. Perhaps their computer had crashed, or the room wasn't ready, or somebody else was holed up in it, but after a 30-plus minute wait we finally had the room pass and checked in. We didn't hang out for long, however, but made our way to downtown Nashville, about 20 minutes by interstate.

Upon driving into downtown Nashville, we were greeted by the scene. A scene dominated by a throng of humanity, consisting of thousands of souls looking for a good time amidst the plethora of lights and sounds and drinking establishments. The sounds, as one might guess, were of the country music variety, and they emanated from most of those drinking establishments. Our first order of business was to ditch the car, which we managed to do with little trouble by finding an ideally situated parking garage for only $10. Then we joined the throng.

We passed vendors selling eclipse t-shirts, figuring we would find better ones or better deals. (Whether we would is debatable, but we had to look long and hard before we found any.) Then we walked in search of a spot to dine. There are many, many restaurants in downtown Nashville, but we were choosy in looking for the right spot. In the end the right spot turned out to be BB King's Blues restaurant.

There was a wait, however, of about 45 minutes we were told. We spent the time walking around the city, mostly down by the Cumberland River, across from the stadium where the Tennessee Titans play football. We spotted a footbridge across the river but figured we didn’t have time to cross it just now. A little before the 45 minutes was up, the restaurant texted Sharon’s cell to let us know our table was ready. So we hustled back before they gave it to someone else.

Our dining experience at BB King's Blues Club was probably the best of the trip. That's not to say that it didn't have its snafus. For one, service was very slow. For another, if you have to ask for silverware, which was needed for Becky’s dish, and they still don’t bring you any, then it’s hard to say you had the perfect meal. Luckily, I was able to score some eating utensils at the bar, so Becky didn’t have to eat like a wild animal. Despite these shortcomings, our feast was delightful—simple and delicious food, a party atmosphere, and a kick-ass country band called the Highjivers. We were seated in the far corner, so we weren't too near the band to be overwhelmed by the music, yet we had a very good view of the act, and the Highjivers are a good one, playing vintage rollicking country tunes. I shot some video of their performance (01, 02, 03), and they can be seen on YouTube, such as here and here.

After leaving BB King’s, we walked around town some more. First browsing in stores for cowboy boots for Sharon and other stuff, and then looking for a place to catch another act and drink another beer. Part of the problem is that there are so many clubs in town with top notch musical acts, all looking for the big break to be big country music stars. Offsetting this problem was the fact that many of these places don’t permit anyone under 21. We ended up at Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville. This was the first time any of us had been in the Caribbean-themed restaurant chain, and to memorialize the occasion Becky got a tee shirt, or rather we bought her one. Then we hit the bar. It was mobbed, so we squeezed into a few empty seats between the main bar and a side-bar. While taking in the band and the scene, a drunk came up to Becky and started trying to pick her up, at least that’s what I think he was trying to do. I call him a drunk, but in fact he was way beyond that. He was also a complete ass, who couldn’t be persuaded to move on. So while the bartender asked him to leave and Sharon and I blocked him from Becky, he complained that I’d started the dispute. Finally, a woman escorted him out of Margaritaville. Good riddance. We finished our drinks and moved on. We eventually ended up at the parking garage and drove back to the Fiddler’s Inn.

Back at the inn, I walked around outside to get some steps and considered stopping in the Scoreboard Bar & Grill situated in the same parking lot as our hotel. If Sharon would have joined me, I would have, but she didn’t want to leave Becky alone, so I decided against it. Besides, we had to get to bed early because tomorrow was the big day. And please, Mr. Weatherman, don’t let it rain.

The spelunkers in Mammoth Cave

The "Scene" in downtown Nashville

The Highjivers rollicking at BB King's Blues Club

Today was the big day, and no one on the planet thought more so about that than Sharon. She was up at dawn, and she was rarin’ to go, pacing the floor, pumping her fist, about to bubble over, even though the eclipse was several hours away. Becky and I both found it amusing and endearing. Since there wasn’t much to do around the Fiddler, we soon started hiking over to the Grand Ole Opry on Opryland Drive. It was only about a mile away, but it was already hot as hell. Becky wanted to drive, but we walked, first along the finely manicured grounds of the enormous Gaylord Opryland Resort and Convention Center, then through the resort, and finally down a side road that ran along Briley Parkway. We were one of the first ones to arrive at the party. They hadn’t even set up any food yet, which was too bad because we were getting hungry.

After roaming around the grounds for a bit, we got in line at the concession stand once it opened and bought an overpriced, ho-hum hamburger and chips. Then we hung around in the shade sweating. Did I mention how hot it was? We hoped some gelato might cool us off, so we stood in the long line waiting to get some. While doing so, Sharon started feeling woozy from the sun and sat down in the shade. But it didn’t help, so once we had our gelato, Becky and I took her into the vestibule of the Opry store. While she sat there hoping to recover in time for the eclipse, about a half hour away, I went off in search of water. It took the longest time to get some, but I did and returned to the store. Sharon and Becky were outside, having been kicked out along with everyone else, but fortunately, she was doing much, much better. Not only was it a huge relief that she hadn’t suffered a full-blown heatstroke, but the timing of it couldn’t have been worse given that the eclipse was now only minutes away. How sad would it have been if she missed another, having missed the one in Maui in 1991 because it rained?

All along we’d kept our eyes on the clouds that had been amassing and multiplying in the sky. Our fear, of course, was that they would block out the eclipse, but when the time came, the sun shone in all its glory and the moon began covering it little by little. We watched through our eclipse glasses until it was total, then we removed the glassed to behold a spectacle that must be witnessed to be appreciated—the solar corona. What a sight. And what a sound . . . for while the total eclipse was in progress, crickets chirped away, or whatever it is that crickets do. At our location we were supposed to have two minutes of total eclipse, and that’s no doubt what we got, but after about a minutes and fifteen second, those clouds moved in and blocked the sun. Another forty-five seconds would have been nice, but we got to see it. Seventy-five seconds we’ll never forget.

Afterward we milled around for a few minutes, taking it all in, and then headed back the way we’d come, only this time we spent a lot more time sightseeing and dining in the Gaylord Opryland Resort. Our first stop was at an outdoor pool party, but it was too hot to be out there and the music was pretty bad and very loud. Inside we walked through the phenomenal gardens, where we could see the latter stages of the eclipse through the glass roof. We bought a slice of cheesecake for later consumption and checked out a clothes store. And we got a bite to eat and a beer to drink at the Jack Daniels restaurant, which was one of the many restaurants in the resort.

After exploring the Gaylord Opryland Resort, we made our way back to the infinitely less glamorous Fiddler’s Inn. Before we soon headed out again, I spoke with my dad and related what an incredible experience it had been to witness a total solar eclipse. He said he’d never seen one in all his 86 years. He also said he’d be coming back from Florida in the fall and would like to stay at our house. I told him that he was of course welcome. Then we drove back to downtown Nashville.

We parked in the same garage as the night before and headed out to do the town again. A few blocks along, we ran into a guy selling eclipse T-shirts for half price, so I bought one. Sharon didn’t because she had her heart set on one she’d seen a few women wearing that afternoon at the Grand Ole Opry that featured a stylish design and the words “Ain’t No Sunshine.”  We were told that the shirts were sold by the Nashville Convention Center, so Sharon ordered a couple online, one for herself and one for Becky. We then walked across the John Seigenthaler Pedestrian Bridge, which provided great views of the city and was awash in the carnival atmosphere that permeated it. Even the birds knew something was up. They were behaving in a weird WTF happened today kind of way.

We hoped to be able to dine on the other side of the river, but the place that was hopping the night before was closed. So we crossed back and wandered about looking for a place to eat. We ended up at the Florida Georgia Line House, which was named after and had some unclear connection with the country music band of the same name. The place had a nice feel and our dinner was good, but the establishment did not have nearly the vibe of BB King's Blues Club, nor was our meal nearly as delicious, although silverware was provided without even having to ask.

After dinner we walked around this vibrant town some more. The bands and artists that play here every day were still playing, as they will for as long as one might imagine, and as cool as that is, the fact was the pre-eclipse energy had dissipated. It had come and gone. In time we were back near the car garage and stopped into Puckett’s, where earlier we had considered dining but were dissuaded by a two-hour wait. We figured we’d get a beer before leaving town, but the crowd in the place discouraged Sharon, so we left and in short order we left Nashville, but with us we took the indelible memories of our time in the Music City.

Video of the total solar eclipse

The lush gardens inside the Gaylord Opryland Resort

On the outside, looking in, Nashville, Tennessee

The outward bound portion of our trip was over, the dazzling eclipse was over, so as we checked out of Fiddler’s Inn, it felt a little as if our adventure had come to the end. But there was still a lot to come—visiting my old army buddy Dave Wallace and the Omni Homestead in particular. Today we’d visit Dave in Johnson City, Tennessee.

We skipped breakfast and headed straight for Knoxville. Our first stop in Knoxville was at the grounds of the 1982 Knoxville World’s Fair, where 35 years earlier my family and I toured the exposition on the very day that Princess Diana gave birth to Prince William, that being June 21, 1982. I don’t remember much about that visit, other than my brother Curt, who was 16 and a half at the time, acted as though he were 8. On this visit, after we drove around looking for a place to park, we hiked around the fair’s grounds. They’re still intact in places, with public gardens, fountains, an amphitheater, and the famed Sunsphere. Again it was hot as heck, so it was a relief to find that the Sunsphere was open. We took the elevator up and checked out the displays, which were ho-hum, and the view, which was expansive. After our hike around the grounds, we sat in the shady wooded area near where we’d parked and ate the caramel–chocolate–cheese cake I’d bought at Opryland. It was the first food we ate all day, so that may have had a lot to do with it, but that was the best tasking cheesecake I ever had. I think Sharon and Becky felt the same way—yummy.

Either during our hike or right after, Becky got a coffee at the Starbucks at the nearby Knoxville Hilton. Then we drove to the downtown area and, after missing the cutoff on our first pass, we doubled back and parked by Calhoun’s on the River. The restaurant was right on the Tennessee River, hence the name, and was huge and mostly empty. We got an inside table nearest the river. The view was excellent, Sharon’s “Super Mug” of beer huge, and the food plentiful but not that tasty (but then after that cheesecake, anything was bound to be insipid). For the record, the beer Sharon and I both ordered was Smoky Mountain Brewery Helles, only mine was in a regular beer mug and hers was in a barrel.

After our late lunch we hiked around the downtown area. That entailed an initial hike up Walnut St., which has be one of the steepest city streets anywhere. We then made our way to Market Square, which is a two-block long square lined with shops and restaurants. Far and away, the shop that got the bulk of our business was Tori Mason Shoes Knoxville, where Sharon got a real sharp pair of Vionic Serena ankle boots. We hiked around a bit more, through Krutch Park with its most unusual assortment of statues including one of a 6-foot revolver, and finally down the steep hill and back to our car by the river. Knoxville was a delightful little town, and for a short while Sharon even adopted the moniker of “A Knoxville Girl,” until she soon found out what grisly thing happened to the girl in the song of that name. And then Sharon banned the song from the playlist forever.

From Knoxville we drove to the Ijams Nature Center about 10 minutes away. I had texted Dave to let him know about our progress and misread his reply as to how far away we were from Johnson City, thinking it was less than a half hour, instead of nearly two hours. Soon after we parked at the Nature Center and started our hike, I realized my mistake. Given Dave’s limitations due to a scheduled health test he was to have the following day, the latest he could eat was about 9 PM. So that ended our very brief hike through Iambs. It looked like it had some real neat areas, although Becky was concerned about there being snakes. She was spared a scary reptilian encounter (at least for the time being) because it was a lot more important to break bread with Dave, so we quickly returned to the car and sped off for Johnson City. Sharon being the Knoxville Girl at heart that she is, I’m sure we’ll get back to nature center another day.

I met a little girl in Knoxville, a town we all know well

The Sunsphere and surrounding park

Indulging in a "Super Mug" at Calhoun's

Knoxville Girl No. 1 in Market Square

"Oh Willy dear, don't kill me here, I'm unprepared to die"

She never spoke another word, I only beat her more

Until the ground around me within her blood did flow

We made it to our rendezvous point in Johnson City at the appointed time and met up with Dave Wallace my old army buddy, whom I hadn’t seen since I got out of the Army in 1978. He looked as I remembered him, only 39 years older, and appeared to be doing well, although he’d recently had a cancerous growth removed from his nose and was to undergo medical tests the following day for bleeding and shortness of breath. We had a nice meal at a restaurant called Cootie Browns at 2715 North Roan St., which I’d selected and of with which Dave was quite familiar. I believe I had a plate of tamales and we split a Key lime pie. Dave insisted on paying the tab, so I reluctantly relented although there were three of us and only one of him and I don’t gather he’s flush with cash. He is, however, flush with class. A song that was a big favorite of ours on the trip called “Wagon Wheel” has lyrics linking Dave and me:

I caught a trucker out of Philly

Knoxville Girl No. 2 in Market Square

Had a nice long toke

But he's a headed west from the Cumberland Gap

To Johnson City, Tennessee

We left Dave Wallace standing outside Cootie Browns. It seemed he didn’t want to leave until we did. The drive to our hotel in Bristol, Tennessee, the Courtyard by Marriott, took about 45 minutes. After checking into our room, no. 1192, we walked to a nearby restaurant called Charley’s, but they were closing up, so that didn’t pan out. Sharon and Becky returned to our room, while I headed out looking to restock the beer supply. It took some doing, and some getting lost, but I found an open gas station, picked up a couple of six-packs, and found my way back to the Courtyard.

Breakfast was provided at the Courtyard, but for some reason which I can’t recall, we didn’t eat there, presumably because it wasn’t included with our online reservation. So we ate at a nearby IHOP. As I recall, it was pretty good. Soon after we got on the road. Originally, our plan had been to stop along the way in Salem, Virginia, to visit Sharon’s friend Eileen LePro and her husband Dave Chaplin, but the plan was changed such that we were to meet up with them the following day. So instead we drove straight to The Omni Homestead intent on getting there as quickly as we could in order to spend as much time as possible at the famed resort.

By the most direct route, it’s 211 miles from the Courtyard in Bristol to The Omni Homestead. But traffic was bad this day, so near Wytheville we left Interstate 81 and took an alternate route via Interstate 77 that took us north toward Princeton, West Virginia. At this point we were running low on gas, so we had to leave the highway and look for a station. That took us several miles out of our way before we found one in Princeton. Then heading back we should have continued on Interstate 77 north, but instead we took U.S. 460. And then we lost all cell coverage, including Google Maps, meaning we had no GPS guidance. And we had no maps. So we winged it until we finally got a signal back, and by that time we were pretty much back to Interstate 81, having made a big detour. The end result was that we’d added about 55 miles to our drive. (Here’s our course—> https://goo.gl/maps/C7yDSRfcMrx)

The final stretch of the drive to The Omni Homestead along U.S. 220 wound through some beautiful hills. All that going round and round and up and down didn’t sit well with Becky’s stomach. About 5 PM our destination came into view, and what a majestic view The Omni Homestead offers, all the more so since it’s in the middle of nowhere. We parked in a remote lot and checked in. We found we’d been given an inside room with a rather ho-hum view of a ho-hum interior yard. I thought I’d reserved a room with an exterior view, so we went to the front desk to complain. It was pointed out that I’d reserve a room with an interior view, and sure enough I had, but all the same, they gave us a complimentary upgrade on the first floor with a splendid view of the pool area and golf course beyond that. The room was on the small side but as charming as could be. We were delighted.

To celebrate our good fortune and to wet our whistles, we paid a visit to the Lobby Bar. The dark-paneled bar with portraits of U.S. presidents hanging on the walls was nearly empty, so we had our choice of seats. We settled into some upholstered chairs at a round table off to the right of the bar, which proved to be a very cozy place to enjoy a beer and a selection of cheeses and meats for Sharon and me and a iced tea and fries, I believe, for Becky. I noticed that a few of the presidents were missing, so I asked the bartender about the portraits. He said those pictured were the ones who had personally visited the resort. Impressive.

Then we headed outdoors and went for a hike around the grounds, generally heading in a counter-clockwise direction. We started up the hill in front of the Omni’s columned entrance to Ski Lodge Dr., where we passed a few stately houses, then continued along the perimeter of the golf course and past the tennis courts on the far side of the pools, and finally down the lane between Spa Garden and Casino, where folks were lounging, eating, and drinking. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time, and how could they not living amid such grandeur and lushness.

It was getting near dinner time, and so we decided to check out the restaurants in the nearby, tiny town of Hot Springs. We didn’t know just how nearby the town was so we drove. We found out later, it’s a lot longer to drive there than to walk. Heck, the walk to our car was longer than the walk to Hot Springs, and in the opposite direction. In town we checked out its three restaurants offering dinner. One was closed, one amounted to a diner, and the third, called Les Cochons d'Or, beckoned, but in the end we turned away because it was very crowded and the menu was not to our liking. So we drove back to the resort and continued our hunt there.

The Omni has several restaurants on their grounds, and we eventually chose the Jefferson Bar for dinner. Given the late hour, we were limited to the bar menu, but all the same our fare was fine—Sharon and I split a burger and pate, and some beers of course, and Becky got the fish and chips (or did Sharon & I get the fish and chips and Becky the burger?). Then we returned to our darling little room with the wonderful view, where Sharon and I drank a few more beers before going to bed.

Sharon & Becky on their cells in the Lobby Bar

Looking down at the Omni Homestead

Sharon chillin' at the Omni   

For breakfast we took a quick look around the resort and then decided to see what the offerings were in Hot Springs, our close proximately to which remained unrealized, so we again drove. Breakfast pickings in town were fewer than the dinner options. There was Natural Outfitters, which served sandwiches, including vegan options, and a combination Subway and delicatessen called Duck In. We hit them both. Becky got a sandwich and tea at Natural Outfitters and Sharon and I got coffee and split a breakfast sandwich at the Subway.

Back at the Omni we explored the sprawling building some more and then went for another hike. Becky wasn’t wild about the idea, but we persuaded her. There are a number of hiking trails around the resort, and we took one of them. At first the trail ascended sharply, then skirted one of the holes on the golf course, wound around a swimming club under renovation, then ran through the woods. Deeper and deeper it coursed into the woods, and where it ultimately came out, we’ll never know, because as we were walking along in single file, with me in the lead, I heard a screech the likes of which I hope to never hear again. It was Becky. She had spotted a large black snake (that I must have passed by seconds before). It’s a good thing that snakes can’t hear because this one would have been deafened by the scream. But Becky didn’t stick around to find out about the snake’s aural sensitivity, she was in flight— hightailing it back the way we’d come faster than we’d ever seen her run. After we finally got her calmed down, sort of, we retraced our steps until reaching a road. That road and others eventually led us back to the resort. Oh my. Other than the big black snake, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the hike? 

At some point, and I can’t remember if it was during breakfast or at the end of the hike or some other time, we realized that the town of Hot Springs was about 50 yards from the northwest corner of the Omni, and thus a nice and easy walk, as opposed to the circuitous drive we’d been traversing. Also at some point during the morning or early afternoon, I went looking for ice. It was challenge to find, but I did get to explore much of the expansive structure and eventually succeeded in my endeavor.

With the trauma of our hike behind us, we headed out to the pool for some fun in the sun. Sharon and Becky splashed about in the water, which for the most part entailed going around a channel on inner tubes; meanwhile, I read, took photos, and thoroughly enjoyed a cold draft. I also joined Sharon in the pool for a circuit or two. To cap off the water adventure, Sharon went down the water slide, of which I captured her final splash into the pool in a burst of photos. After that we returned to our room, changed, explored some of the more remote parts of the hotel, and then made our way to the “Southern Social Hour” to partake in the iced teas and pastry provided each afternoon from 3:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. We took our tea and cake out to the front porch to drink and eat. After a short spell, I went for a walk to yet other unexplored parts of the resort’s interior, primarily to get some steps. The ballrooms and hallways on the southern wing proved to be an interesting place.

The time had come to drive to Lexington, Virginia, for our dinner engagement at the Southern Inn with Eileen LePro and Dave Chaplin. The distance was just about 60 miles, but in these parts those miles zig-zagged to and fro and wound up and down, agitating Becky’s stomach with every bend. It was, Becky’s stomach aside, a lovely drive past long stretches of pristine mountainous countryside.

We arrived in Lexington with about a half hour to kill, so we walked around a bit, and then made our way to the Southern Inn to be seated. Eileen and Dave showed up soon afterward. I wasn’t thrilled with the location of our table, right in front of the busy kitchen, particularly since there were open tables in a nearby quiet nook, but apparently those tables had been reserved (of course so had ours). Despite the less than ideal seating, we had a pleasant dinner with good conversation, food, and beer. I can’t recall much about what we discussed, but I recall it being convivial. Then after sending the waitress back to correct the overcharge on our tab, we walked around Lexington, most notably taking in the charming campus of Washington & Lee University. Sharon and Eileen seemed not to have missed a beat since they roomed together at Penn State long ago. And Dave and I had plenty to talk about, although as I recall it was mostly about his world, but then that’s how it often is with me.

The drive back to the Homestead was much the same as the drive from it, only now it was dark. It was rather late by the time we returned, so I believe we went right to our room and just hung out there.

Video of our room at the Omni

Sharon & Becky having fun in the sun

Dinner at the Southern Inn with Eileen & Dave

Our stay at the Homestead was near its end. It had been luxurious and expensive ($712 overall, $141 of which was for food and beverages). As noted in the introduction, the resort came to my attention while leafing through the book 1,000 Places to See Before You Die by Patricia Shultz. Now I had one less place to see, but one I’d like to visit again someday.

With the Homestead in our review, the three pillars of this trip—touring the campus of WV University, witnessing a total eclipse in Nashville, and living lavishly at the Homestead, were all behind us now. Our travels were nearly over. But not quite. Our first stop was in Staunton, Va., about 65 miles east of Hot Springs. The town is best known for its Blackfriars Playhouse, where the American Shakespeare Center stages productions of the Bard’s plays, as well as of his contemporizes, “in the world's only recreation of the original indoor Blackfriars Theatre in London that was demolished in 1655.” I had looked into seeing a play, but unfortunately the scheduling didn’t work for us. So much for being cultured. We did stop by the playhouse, and it was jam-packed with Asian students. Then we walked to the nearby Stonewall Jackson Hotel so that Sharon and Becky could use its facilities. While there we helped ourselves to several cups of the hotel’s complimentary strawberry-infused water. We may have also looked for a place to eat in town, but found nothing of interest, so we got back on the road.

About an hour and half later we entered Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park, and to our surprise entrance was free because it was National Park Service Founders Day. Who knew?  I believe the last time I traveled along Skyline Drive was in 1982 on that vacation that took the family to the Knoxville World’s Fair. It is, of course, one of the world’s most scenic drives. And the weather on this day couldn’t have been more ideal. We pulled into at least 3 overlooks to have a look and walk around. They all afforded splendid views. We were a little concerned, however, because the Mazda CX-5 was “leaking” water, but then we soon found out that it wasn’t actually leaking but rather just releasing water as it was supposed to. Becky found that out.

We exited Skyline Drive at the Hazel Mountain Overlook and drove the 12.5 mile to the Luray Caverns, where we parked, walked up to the admission gate, checked out the admission price, walked back to the car, and drove away. Now should anyone ever asks if we’ve been to Luray Caverns, we can say, “Sho‘nuff.” The reason we didn’t actually see the caverns was that I didn’t think it was worth the $100 cost of admission for the three of us. I’d might also add that we didn’t have enough time, although that’s a bit of a stretch since I doubt we’d have needed over two hours to get our fill. Judging from internet photos, it looks like a pretty cool place inside, but then we’ve been to Ruggles Mine, so everything else is bound to pale in comparison.

By this time, nearing 5 PM, we were more than ready for our daily cup of gourmet coffee, and serendipity struck in the charming little town of Front Royal, Virginia. We parked beside a shady little park and walked to the Main Street Daily Grind. We enjoyed our joe in the park, and once properly caffeinated, returned to the highway. The last stop before reaching our day’s destination, that being the EconoLodge in Harpers Ferry, was at a Sheetz convenience store, where I picked up some beer and waited in a long line to purchase it. Fortunately, the Port City Optimal Wit I bought was worth the wait.

The EconoLodge in Harpers Ferry (actually it’s in the town of Bolivar) was no great shakes, but judging from what I could tell, there aren’t a whole lot of hotel-style accommodations in the area. That’s a little surprising since this is clearly a tourist destination. Perhaps it’s more B&B country. The town, however, does have a fair number of restaurants, so after checking into our motel, we walked the half mile of so into town. Upon spotting the Anvil Restaurant, we decided that was the place. Sharon and I had some local ales, mushroom soup, and bourbon chicken. The ales were excellent (4.25 stars out of 5), the soup was good, but as I recall the chicken left something to be desired. Becky got a Caesar salad (surprise, surprise) and some crab soup

After we left the Anvil we stumbled upon The Barn, which was a big old barn converted into a rustic yet very inviting bar. While imbibing our ales, the owner lady stopped by and chatted with us for a spell, so that was nice.

Back at the Econolodge, on our last night on the road, we held a playoff contest to select the best country song of the trip, where each of us got to nominate several songs. The 6 finalists were these: “Blue Ain’t Your Color” by Keith Urban (Marc), “Wagon Wheel” by Darius Rucker (Sharon), “Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off” by Joe Nichols (Becky), “Drinkin’ Problem” by Midland (Marc), “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood (Sharon), and “Toes” by Zac Brown Band (Becky). The big winner was “Wagon Wheel.”

Becky taking in the view from Skyline Drive

Sitting on a rock on a lovely day

Enjoying a cold one at The Barn

I believe we had breakfast at the hotel and then drove into Harpers Ferry. We intended to park in Harpers Ferry, but that proved to be impossible, so we followed the signs and drove out to the Harpers Ferry National Historic Park Visitor Center, which was twice as far from town as our hotel. From there we caught a free shuttle bus into town.

We started our tour hiking along the Shenandoah River, where we were able to jump from rock to rock to a large boulder about 12 feet out in the river. From there our hike took us a couple of hundred yards upriver to where the Shenandoah meets the Potomac River at a spot known as The Point. About 100 yards from there the Appalachian Trial transects the area, crossing the Potomac via the Footbridge to the C&O Canal and Maryland Heights. We walked across the footbridge as far as it went, which took us over the Potomac. The view in all directions was spectacular, what with a mountain tunnel to the east, the junction of the two rivers to the south, and Harpers Ferry to the west. I should have taken a panorama shot.

It was time to explore the town. We hiked past John Brown’s Fort, not knowing at the time what it was, and came upon an outdoor colonial baking event, where we were treated to a sample of the tasty breads and cakes being made. Then we walked up the Potomac to the train depot, which is a functioning station, although largely empty during our visit. Then we continued up Potomac Street, and I do mean up, since this is hilly country. We cut over to High Street, which is the main route through town and stopped in a couple of souvenir stores and eventually the Potomac Grille, where we stopped for lunch. Seating was outdoors on a huge deck overlooking the town, and train depot, and off in the distance the two rivers. The afternoon was warm and sunny, our steak sandwich and fries tasty and soon devoured, and the draft beer cold and delicious. It was, all in all, an excellent place to kick back and reflect upon our journey that had nearly reached its end.

Somewhere in this town in October 1859, abolitionist John Brown and his men raided a United States arsenal. We weren’t focused on John Brown’s exploits during our visit, so I can’t say what happened where or when. I probably should have paid more attention since that’s what put Harpers Ferry on the map. As it was, we were only here for the beer . . . and the sights. From the restaurant we hiked up Shenandoah St., stopping at a few historical exhibits along the way, and then on to the bus stop, where we caught the bus back to the Visitors Center.

Back on the road again, we headed to our final planned stop—Arlington National Cemetery. We got there about 3 PM, found the visitors’ parking without much trouble, and paid our respects. I’d never been to Arlington before, and despite being a longtime lover of jaunts through cemeteries, I probably wouldn’t have stopped here on this trip had it not been for Becky’s ardent regard for president John F. Kennedy. JFK, of course, is buried in Arlington, along with his wife and brothers. So our first order of business was to visit the famed gravesite with the Eternal Flame. We found it, as did a slew of other people since JFK’s grave remains a popular pilgrimage almost 54 years after that day in Dallas. We were happy to see that the flame did not fail us—it burned. Nearby we saw the less heralded graves of Robert and Ted Kennedy. From there we made our way across the expansive and exquisitely manicured cemetery with its seemingly endless rows of white marble crosses aligned in perfect symmetry to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Connected to the portico with the tomb is the Arlington Memorial Amphitheater, which is an impressive structure in the Greco-Roman tradition. Standing in it, or sitting upon the centrally located marble throne as Becky and Sharon did, you feel like you’ve been transported to classical antiquity. Then we watched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The changing is a very somber affair, sort of like being in church, only instead of a guy dressed in robes reading scripture, you have a bunch of guys in uniform marching in a long and slow procession punctuated by rifle inspecting and twirling. They’re very good at twirling.

From there we continued our tour of the cemetery, stumbling upon the tall grave marker of Abner Doubleday, and finally up to Arlington House, which overlooks the gravesite of John F. Kennedy and provides a stunning view of Washington, D.C., off in the distance. Then we made the long walk back to the car, and from there the much longer drive back to Phoenixville. Except for the driving it was all over, and this drive is one we’ve done countless times, so the adventure was done. It had been, however, an excellent one.

Sharon & Becky on a rock in the Shenandoah River

Lunch at the Potomac Grille

Becky near the end of walk at Arlington National Cemetery