It happens about once a month. I wake up on a weekend morning and, as I make breakfast, I pick up a pencil and start jotting down things I want to do– vacuum my car, return videos, exercise, and so on– the kinds of things that make me wonder why I even look forward to the weekend. And then my mind begins to wander. And suddenly, I’ve dropped off my dry cleaning and I am driving down a highway or byway, just to see where I end up.
29 south
I really only ever drive south on 29 when I want to go to lay out and read at Walnut Creek, and the route invariably requires a stop at the general store at the Crossroads. I almost always miss it and have to u-turn– a common problem when you drive as fast as I do on 29, not unlike getting ticketed. I’ll only get a soda, but I’ll ask to taste fudge. Sometimes, I’ll feel guilty and buy a dinky slice (my pick is PB), but the friendly folks at the register never give the slightest scowl when I say, “Thanks, but not today!” The Crossroads is a destination in and of itself– Dr. Ho’s Humble Pie is a cozy pizza joint in the same building. Shortly after leaving, I lost cell phone coverage for the next two hours, and I didn’t miss it. Soundtrack: Counting Crows, Mr. Jones.
Another pit stop
I had a loose plan in mind before I left– Crabtree Falls. The hike is a steep 5 mile ascent and descent along a mountain waterfall. It was too icy to get to the top the last time I attempted it. Worried I’d confused Route 6 with Route 56 (again, driving too fast) and feeling the soda, I stopped at an Excel gas station with another country store just after 6, which leads to Wintergreen at the intersection with 151. Usually, to prove my being a customer enough to get bathroom privileges, I buy chips or a ham stick. But there is one very lucky young lady living in Nelson County, Virginia– mom was selling her Girl Scout cookies at the register. I saw the familiar red box and couldn’t resist. I don’t care what they’re called now– they will always be Tagalongs to me.
So I really had to use the bathroom. I knew it was a possibility, I was ready for it, and it happened: “The key is behind you on that rack, and it’s right out front here.”
The outside gas station unisex bathroom. Deep breath.
I am, admittedly, anxious when using public bathrooms, and terribly jealous of men. I have driven all over these fine USes of A, and I would rather bring TP into the woods with me than use most public bathrooms, and yes, my friends and family have let me know I am not normal in this regard. To my credit, there is actually a restroom advocacy organization lobbying for better state legislation for sanitation and availability. Also, any and all guests of my home can guarantee that the bathroom has been cleaned within 48 hours. But I digress.
Lo and behold, it is the cleanest, pinkest public bathroom I’ve ever set foot in. Leave it to a Girl Scout mom.
Soundtrack: Nico, These Days.
Virginia’s oldest winery
I passed a sign for Del Fosse Vineyards and decided that I would stop at the next vineyard I passed, if I were to pass one. If you’re new to the site: hi, I’m lilith, I drink wine. I slammed on my breaks and u-turned again after a sign for Mountain Cove Vineyards. The winery would be 3.5 miles down what turned out to be a quintessentially Shenandoah road– a smooth skyline, not another car in site. It’s also a great road to see wine growing as it should in Virginia: on the southern slope of a hill.
But I was surprised and disappointed to roll into the winery and be the second car to park. I have no qualms, ever, about talking to anyone, to a fault– but I had not had the benefit of seeing the adorable owners and read about the winery’s history online before showing up. I decided I should wait and go back with a friend, took some pictures and rolled back out. Soundtrack: Beatles, Norwegian Wood.
Crabtree Falls
I finally made it to my right turn to go west on Route 56– a pedal-to-the-metal kind of backcountry road with passing lines for those who need permission to do it. Route 56 and Route 151 coincided for about a mile before 56 separated again. And then, there it was– a sign that Crabtree Falls was another 12 miles away. I’d been driving for a little over an hour by that point, and I had to be back in Charlottesville in two hours– not enough time to hike. Up a moutain. For 2.5 miles. In February. Soundtrack: Boston, More Than A Feeling.
151 north
Driving north on 151 is an exciting road, if you like being behind the wheel– up there with White Hall Road to Brown’s Gap Turnpike. You don’t realize it, but you’ve actually made it to a decent altitude, and you descend in a series of rather steeply banked turns. After I got through it, I almost felt car sick– and I mean that in the best possible way. Soundtrack: Steve Miller Band, Jet Airliner.
Blue Mountain Brewery
By this point, it was about 2 in the afternoon. I love doing the wine trail on 151, but I have this Thing for Blue Mountain Brewery. That far north, 151 gets a fair amount of traffic, so I thought the better of slamming on my breaks and u-turning yet another time. I simply decelerated and pulled into the only empty parking space in the lot. Blue Mountain is always crowded.
I managed to get a seat at the bar and ordered my pint of choice. I’ve been enough times to have to start counting on my second hand, and I can never pinpoint the crowd. Families. Older couples. Cyclists, in their gear. Groups of singles. A woman who will offer me wine from the bottle she just bought. Beer, soup, bread– the simplest pleasures, but not like any I’ve had before. Soundtrack: STP, Interstate Love Song.
Greenwood Country Store
I got on 250 east and, remembering having read a recommendation on this here site, I pulled into Greenwood Country Store. I thought it would be chips or a ham stick for me. But no. Not that kind of country store. Their Belgian beer selection, alone, rivals (if not outdoes) that of Beer Run or Market Street. And I was given a personal tour of the entire selection. I barely looked at the wine selection, being in a real hurry to get back to the city, but I was easily persuaded to taste a few French wines. Ladies and gentlemen, if you need to get away on a Friday night, stop at the Greenwood Country Store and do a tasting, then move along to Blue Mountain Brewery. Don’t look back. Soundtrack: Mungo Jerry, In the Summertime.
Mileage: 100.
Cost, minus Greenwood and gas: $15.
Worries in the world: 0.
Popularity: 18% [?]
You have a thing about public restrooms? Talk to me once you have been in a porta-potty on five hits of LSD in 100 degree weather and you cant seem to figure how to get out. That was 17 years ago, and I still get a little twinge in my spine every time I walk into one of those things. *shiver*
i wanna go drink wine on a road trip
Talk to me once you have been in a porta-potty on five hits of LSD in 100 degree weather and you cant seem to figure how to get out.
That’s scarier than a two story outhouse!
I absolutely love travelling, wether it’s a short country drive, or a three month-long, coast-to-coast microbrewery summer marathon. (which is fantastic, and I heartily recommend it to everyone)
B’yo: that sounds like how I feel when I read Cvillain - I just can’t figure how to get out of here! I’m trapped in a swirling, melting sheet of wine bar pimping and criticism of fat people! But it feels so good.
It was just so uniformly blue. And its shape wouldn’t stay still. I only escaped when someone accidently opened the door. It was like being born. That was a rough afternoon all around, but a great story. I remember it as the day I failed the acid test. Epically failed that is.
http://img530.imageshack.us/img530/1288/impressivefailje6.jpg
/total threadjack, sorry lil.
No, no, I was really amused with the portapotty story! I was trying to think if I had any, then I realized that, while there’s an intrinsic “je ne sais quoi” to all your stories, a portapotty moment of my own might taint my reputation as a truffle oil dousing, primitivo sipping woman of the night. If only I’d lived in northern California at some point in my life. It lets you do anything!
Yo’s story reminds me of a night many moons ago, in a land far away, under the influence of various assorted substances, I spent 20 minutes in my car at a country crossroads trying to remember which way to turn to get home. I was rescued when a carload of my friends pulled up behind me and pointed me in the right direction. Sheesh, it’s a wonder I’m still alive.
/at least it’s tangentially related to the roadtrip theme . . . a road trip FROM HELL!!!
nice writeup lil - wanna take the oymobile and go on a wine circuit ending with a brewery stop. Saturday? Who’s in?
Lessons learned:
*drink lots of water
*don’t go into something if you may not have the faculties to find your way out
*don’t wear black leather everything in 100 deg heat
*don’t look at the ground if its distance away from you keeps changing
*don’t look into the eyes of someone thats had even more than you
*there *is* such a thing as too much, after all
*the sweat pouring down your face is not, in fact, blades of ice chopping your head to ribbons
*niacin, esp from bananas can help calm things.
*nitrous oxide in this state, will allow you to see individual atoms
*and most importantly, when faced with the choice of either A) closing your eyes and completely ceasing to exist with no guarantee of ever returning or B) keeping your eyes open and facing the profoundly unsettling visions of recurring hexagonal fields of vision, each with an identical washing machine window of swirling shape and colors…. ALWAYS choose A.
wait, they’re not called Tagalongs anymore? my box says tagalongs…
also, nice post.
Lesson learned:
* exercise caution around professionals when you are an amateur.
Smiley, you’re an interesting one. Every time you try to pass yourself off as a humble outsider, you are SO IN! I like that!
mc, is my Nelson County Girl Scout cookie box a fake? Is it like the CVS brand of tooth whitening gels? Dear GOD no.
Interesting fact about niacin (ThatGrrl will appreciate this): Corn doesn’t have it. So in Medieval northern Italy, and in the American south in the early 1900s, people who were eating a lot of polenta and cornbread, respectively, developed deformities and died because there wasn’t enough niacin in their diets. Maybe that explains that pig slaughterer’s awkward shape over in the meat eating post.
And oy, this spring, yes!
Thanks, Lil. I feel like I just got invited to sit with the cool kids in the cafeteria . . . AND it’s pizza Friday!
Yo, all those lessons and not one mention of a towel?
*don’t forget to bring a towel… sorry gob, my brain ain’t what it used to be.
exercise caution around professionals when you are an amateur.
This experience moved me from veteran to retired. The amateur days were the funnest!
Oh, and wine! Cars! Driving Around!
Lil, we may have passed like two ships in the night at Blue Mountain this weekend…I was there with some friends (and a fellow cVillain) for the “Y-Chromosome-Appropriate-Alternative-Activity-for-Baby-Shower-Spouses” on Saturday and the weather was perfect for sitting outside on the deck with a bratwurst pizza and a few pints. I’ve always been a fan of Taylor’s beers, but that afternoon was on another level.
yo…..ya forgot ” don’t stare at the sun”…….always a sure sign of a trip about to go out of control
Wingnut: a group of ridiculously attractive men arrived while I was there, not that I was looking, or gawking, or anything… Anyway, I thought “tame bachelor party part 1″ at the time so “baby shower spouse commiseration fest” makes so much sense!
Lil,
were a mix of young and older (present dads, grandads and future dads). We spent some of that time trying to figure out a better name for our activity too. You’re right about the “tame, part 1″ bit though. Poker later on did get a bit rowdy!
That probably wasn’t us
Ha! Glad to hear you guys enjoyed the weather and brews. It really was a perfect February Saturday.