An Exploration of Buildings and Beer

On Saturday Richard came to Meadow House and we set off on a much looked forward to day of urbexing and beer. We wanted to stay relatively local so a friend had supplied me with a location right out in the boondocks but within an hour's drive from my house. Summer had packed its bags and left for the year and Fall had settled in, cool temperatures throughout the region with a brisk wind thrown in, ensuring a jacket needed to be worn.
We meandered along country lanes, zig-zagged down towards a river and eventually came across the gate we'd been told to look out for. Zipping up my coat, with camera bag across my shoulders and hands thrust deep into my pockets, we marched across a field towards some derelict log buildings. The wind was biting and I wondered if I should have brought hand warmers. The temperatures had dropped so dramatically in the last few days, that it seemed infeasible to assume 90 degree days wouldn't return. The memories of intense heat and AC were still fresh in my mind and I wasn't yet mentally prepared for winter.

The old structures in front of us were impressive. Made of large logs and plaster with chimneys and outdoor fireplaces of river stone, this had likely been a ROTC site. Inside we would find signatures of old attendees with dates from the 70's and 80's daubed in pen or paint on the walls and inside lockers. The interiors were also surprisingly dry with very little mold present.

It was nice to be exploring again, it's been a long time since my last excursion. Today the air was crisp, the wind nipping at my nose. The leaves around the buildings were slowly changing, finally giving up their hold on a green mantle, the edges of each leaf tinged with golds and oranges. A Virginia creeper caught my eye, glints of burgundy and ruby fluttering on the walls. Curled up brown and dusty leaves from last year were still carpeting the concrete floor under porches, and from outside one of the upstairs windows I was amazed to see a pale golden honeysuckle flower, like a jewel illuminating the shadowy woods, and obviously refusing to accept that summer has ended. I stood watching it blow bravely in the wind for a few minutes, glad I'd witnessed this persistent survivor.

We left the main buildings, walking down a hill to another half fallen down building that seemed to be part of the complex. It held a kitchen and dining area, but the roof had collapsed, exposing it to the elements. The stove had rusted but daubs of color were still visible, peeling paint and bright green weeds, clutching a hold on their newly found domain. We poked around an old barn and abandoned house, which had a door painted with 'PLEASE LEAVE', and so we did. Back in the warm car, Richard mentioned food and I suddenly realized how famished I was. It was past lunch time yet I'd been too absorbed in taking photos to think of my stomach.

We drove to Woodstock Brewhouse, looking forward to some stellar beers and food, since they had high ratings. But we were disappointed. We tried the whole range of beers, leaving out a pumpkin ale and a lager style beer, but of the 10 we tried none were memorable. The nachos were also disappointing, covered largely with iceberg lettuce and canned cheese. We didn't linger and we didn't choose another plate of food which had been our original intention.
Further down the road we came across an old farm and stopped to investigate.

The house was closed tight but the old barn was a draw, the rust and wood textures looking wonderfully warm and rich under the afternoon sun. We found the skeleton of a horse inside which saddened us. Had it been ill and found a dry place to die or had it simply been mistreated? I wondered if it was the latter as I came across a wooden cattle trough inside another barn, its sides chewed down and wondered if the animals here had been starved. I was happy to leave this place.

Our last stop was a favorite brewery of mine, Swover Creek Farm Brewery, a wonderful little uncommercialized place tucked down a narrow country road, where low hedges of fruit grew in a field next to the road and chickens scurried back and forth in front of the farm. I had discovered this gem in 2015 when they were just converting their barn into a tap room. Beer was drunk instead in their kitchen. It was great sitting in that comfortable environment, enjoying conversation with a couple of cyclists who were also perched at a tall table by the kitchen counter. I miss that experience but the new taproom is warm and inviting, unlike many of the large industrial breweries that are now so popular. We dove straight in with a flight of the beers on the board and were not disappointed. All were solid ales but we both agreed the best was the Vanilla Habanero Porter, a beer I seldom choose. But this brew was perfection, a smooth blend with a sweet kick. I couldn't stop sipping it. A local advised us to try the baked jalapeno poppers, which were also delicious. No canned cheese here, instead a thick herby crust of cheddar cheese over green spicy peppers which had enough of a kick to satisfy but not so much that you were reaching for a glass to quench the fire.
Richard and I had also purchased some goodies from the farm shop. He got fresh eggs, a steak and kielbasa while I went home with a packet of bratwurst, made with the farm's beer and their duck eggs. I wished I'd got more, they were the best sausages I'd eaten in a while. I will definitely be returning as the pizzas were also highly recommended.

Content to drop back into the car with full bellies, we slowly wound our way back to Rte 11 again and headed homewards. A beautiful old barn caught our attention, the late sun's rays blinking through holes in the roof and highlighting the beautiful woodwork. A few quick photos and then we jumped back into the cozy car. The temperature had dropped dramatically, while the winds had also upped their gusto. I'd better start digging for the hand warmers to keep in my camera bag.

Fog and Felines at the Farm

Saturday was a dreary drippy day, heavy moisture hanging in the air, a dense fog settled upon the mountain tops, with no breeze to drag it off. The sun tried to pummel through the clouds, bright spots appearing behind the grey fluffiness, like a flashlight with waning batteries, but it had to admit defeat, the fog wasn't moving. It was a wonderful morning to spend a little longer under the covers with a huge mug of tea and my book, and I savored it.
My neighbor Brian was accompanying me at lunch time to visit Ayrshire Farm in Upperville, VA which was hosting a Heritage Breeds Day. They had last hosted this event several years ago. I had enjoyed it then and was looking forward to it today. Yet when we arrived I was surprised to see only a few cars parked in the field. I had assumed it would have been packed, the event had started a couple of hours before we arrived.

We clambered onto a trailer pulled by a tractor and chugged slowly down towards the house, enjoying the scenery. The leaves were only showing a hint of the fall colors to come, a flash of an orange or gold leaf among the green, but nuts and berries hung on drooping branches, the grass below flattened by the weight of the morning's dew. As we approached the house the wheels crunched on gravel and then came to stop by an ornate hedge garden with a fountain.

The house is really a mansion, a huge 17,000 square foot immaculately built field stone structure, which at first looks as though it's old, but it was actually built in 1912, at the time, a very modern home with all the new 'mod cons' of central heating, plumbing and electricity. It's imposing and impressive as you stand below, staring up at its 75ft height, intricate wooden carvings around the door and detailed paint finishes on the windows. It's stunningly beautiful and very obviously a well loved and cared for home.

The owner, Sandy Lerner, is also an avid cat lover. When we had come here previously we had been allowed access to the inside of the house and seen many painted cat pictures on the walls, in different styles. Every window ledge and table top holds feline ornaments and the theme is continued outside. As we walked around the back of the house we admired a quiet lake with a summer house and another fountain but looking back towards the building we smiled to see concrete and metal statues of musical or cavalier cats, outdoor chair backs with cats wrought from metal and a sun lounge with all the window space being given priority to a selection of differently styled cat baskets and beds. This lady is a feline fanatic and I was hugely delighted to see how her pets are so obviously pampered. There was even a small outdoor cat ledge with a door so they could enjoy a spot of fresh air, the space currently occupied by a handsome ginger tom who looked nothing short of extremely satisfied with his living arrangements.

The farm was promoting Heritage Breeds, a variety of livestock and poultry were here today, old historic breeds which are in danger of becoming extinct unless people become more aware of their qualities. Because many modern farmers use a few breeds that have been bred for maximum output, the traditional breeds are slowly disappearing because they are unable to do well under these controlled conditions. Hopefully as people are becoming more favorable to organic foods, interest will rise in these older, stronger breeds which are more naturally resistant to disease. And as we talked among the farmers here, apparently they taste better too. That really can't be hard to disbelieve when these animals look so healthy and are allowed to live free in their natural habitat.The Livestock Conservancy were here today to promote their organization, teaching people about these breeds that need to be protected.

There was one breed of cow that I'd never seen before, the Randall Lineback. A handsomely dappled black and white beast with horns and the rarest of all cattle breeds. Genetically unchanged from the 1700's only 250 of them can be marketed each year, with over 70% of them coming from Chapel Hill Farm in Virginia.I have to admit it was tough looking at all these beautiful breeds with the knowledge that their owners were promoting awareness of them as animals to be eaten with superior flavored meat when I was looking at them purely as gorgeous animals. But it has to be said, these animals are treated well and are not cooped up in cages. They do live a good life.
Though it didn't appear that the turnout was huge today I was happy for the animals. With the overcast weather and low numbers of hands reaching through bars to pet and scratch, the animals here weren't stressed in their enclosures. They had plenty of water and fresh hay, most of them chowing down heartily rather than taking any notice of their audience.

Most of the stars here today were happy to have their photo taken, especially this huge Shire, who hung over his stable door and nuzzled against anyone who wanted a portrait shot with him. He had a large tray of carrots just out of the photo that enticed him to lean over the door. He was obviously enjoying his day.

The day stayed heavy and damp, the fog never lifted from the mountains on the horizon. But it suited me. I regarded the day as being perfect. Great company with another avid animal lover, the enjoyment of spending time in close contact with some very happy animals, a delicious burger from Gentle Harvest, another of Sandy Lerner's enterprises, and when we left, beers at The Hunter's Head, a pub also owned by Sandy. The low attendance of people had also been pleasing for me, although likely not so for Sandy. I couldn't understand this as I remembered her previous events had always been busy. There hadn't been a lot of information about the event on her website or her Facebook page. The day had been promoted but not enough details of what it was really about. Hopefully, despite the lack of attendees, there will be a repeat event next year. I'll definitely be back for more strokes and cuddles.!