Peaking before a Party

At the last moment I took Friday off. I e-mailed Boss Man twice during Thursday but didn't get a response so resolved that if I didn't hear from him, then I'd go with the old saying, 'no news is good news', and take it off regardless. I did eventually get a 'have fun' text from him late in the evening so I was now guilt free. Richard was also off that day, a day with a forecast of upper 60's and sunshine, a perfect day for a hike. I decided to show Richard Kennedy's Peak, which I know will be a frequent hike for me, and today, since we'd be having perfect weather, we would also add some of the ridge line trail, taking our mileage total to 7.5.

 I was amazed how much the spin classes had improved my strength. Only a few weeks ago I'd been huffing and puffing up the incline with frequent stops. This time I needed no breaks until we neared the summit where it was steeper, but at the top I felt elated, relishing the fact I was slowly but surely getting fitter.

 It was a joy today to sit and enjoy the view, perched on the sill of the shelter in just t-shirts. Unlike last time, wrapped in a jacket, scarf and hat with hand warmers stuffed in my pockets and barely able to take in the vista because of my eyes streaming in the winter gales. This time, we sat while a pleasant breeze cooled us down, stroking our bare arms, and the sun caressed us with warm rays. We munched on jerky, nuts and a tangerine and just soaked in this beautiful spring day. The hike down seemed to only take a few minutes, we'd chatted the whole time it seemed, and I was very impressed to find that 7.5 miles had not worn me out. Last time I'd returned home after 5.25 miles and crashed on the sofa for a nap. Today, after bidding Richard farewell until the following day, I went grocery shopping and then immediately got on my bike to ride to the bar where I met a couple of friends for drinks and a snack. Then I collapsed on the sofa!
On Saturday afternoon, I drove down to Arlington, where I was meeting a group of urbexing friends for a Tacky Party. I wore a pink Betty Boop t-shirt, (I loathe Betty Boop), with YOU WISH in large letters at the top. Underneath I wrote, 'You Can't Afford Me!'. My fingers were adorned with cheap gaudy rings and a horrible bracelet made of pink sequined cumbersome balls that annoyed me intensely as they stood high on my wrist. I had found a 70's ice bucket in the local Goodwill store which I had filled with Twinkies, CupCakes, DingDongs, Zingers and such. I took beers and a huge wrapped present.

 The food at the party was amazing. I was very impressed with the green bean casserole topped with tater tots and was delighted to see spam with baked beans. Liz had made a meatloaf man, which was already missing his legs by the time I got there. Cindy had been extremely creative in bringing a dish that resembled a cat's litter tray, little dark brown cookies sitting atop 'sand'. I greatly admired her talent but unfortunately it was just too realistic for me and although I visited the table a few times during the party I just could not bring myself to taste her dish.

There was a towering pile of presents from everyone, enticingly wrapped gifts to be distributed by the Secret Santa method. It was supposed to be secret as to who the gifts were from but we all knew Cindy had made these hilarious Trump labels with her obviously very competent Photoshop skills.

There was lots of tomfoolery before we got started. Foster, one of the hosts was wearing a superb mustard suit checkered with fine black lines. His and John's little dog, Wren, knew whenever a camera pointed in her direction and posed accordingly, even towards my phone, such a prima donna. I wish Rosie Lee and Tricksie Treat would do the same.

Out of the 27 numbers allocated I had 21, so my chance of getting a relatively good gift was high. I quite liked the singing fish but everyone was taking the meat lunch box from each other. It was easily the most popular gift opened.

Cindy ended up with the mirror in a tennis racquet that I had brought along. Richard got the ugly man decanter thing, which he wanted, and his gift of a hideous red tray ended up with someone who actually liked it. I fell in love with the blue steer skull. The guy who opened it didn't seem too enthralled but since I'd managed to get the meat lunch box, purely for bargaining purposes, Liz convinced him to swap with me. And then she ended up with the lunch box! I have no idea how she did that but I was very pleased to have a blue skull to go in The Blue House.

Dottie's husband acquired a cute little mummy piggie. It was actually quite sweet and they seemed pleased with it. All gifts that were opened were placed on a table so folks could steal any they liked when it was their turn. I think the worst present was the plastic red and black salt and pepper holder, (to the left behind my beer bottle). The t-shirt said, 'Y'all need Jesus' which was quite tempting, but I can print one of those any time. The furry brown colon was a little obscure too...

The hand holding a baby was very weird and creepy. It wasn't part of the gift pile but was from John and Foster's personal ornament collection. Utterly odd and horrible. But before I left I wrapped my horrendous pink sequin bracelet around it.
The party had been a great success. I left with an empty ice bucket and a blue steer skull. Who gets to do that on a regular Saturday night? And on the way out I spotted Dottie's little piggie, all wrapped up, safe and cozy underneath a table. Aaaw.

Melting Snow to Slushy Mud

On Saturday I spent the day with Jeff. He had been clamoring for ages for us to spend a day out photographing. The last time his camera had been used was for Trump's inauguration and he was chomping at the bit to go out. We didn't have any hard and fast plans so we just headed towards the mountains and back roads to see what we could find. The fields and mountains were still blanketed with snow, tree branches had snow draped over them, I was amazed at how much snow there was left. It wasn't deep but covered the ground enough to add texture and interest to our photos.

 I drove to this old mill which Richard had shown us a few weeks previously. It gave us a chance to 'warm up' and get the shutters clicking. The snow was melting fast, heavy watery clods plopped to the ground as we walked under branches, occasional blobs hitting our heads and shoulders. I had packed hand warmers but we didn't need them, the day was warming up fast.

Large clumps of daffodils thrust bright green leaves upwards outside an old abandoned house. I was a little envious as I have no bulbs at all outside my own home, the previous owner had apparently not been a gardener and each day I keenly searched the ground for shoots poking through the soil, and each day was disappointed. I'll be ensuring that plenty of bulbs are planted this year so I can look forward to a springtime garden next year.. There's nothing as wonderful tas seeing new plants poking through the dead leaves, breaking up the monotony of the browns and greys to herald the arrival of warmer weather.

We stopped at these little chalets snuggled under trees at the base of the mountains. They've never been well maintained. Last year someone had turned one of them into a vape store but that obviously hadn't lasted and now they stand empty again, slowly disintegrating. As we stood on the roadside with our cameras the head of an elderly gentleman poked over the top of the neighboring house, which was also in a dilapidated condition, and I thought he told us to move off. Jeff and I scuttled towards the car. It wouldn't have surprised me to see a shotgun barrel being hoisted towards over the top of that fence, these rural folk are all armed.

 Apart from the elderly gentleman there seemed to be nobody about the small town. Few vehicles passed us and no one was out walking. It seemed really odd for a Saturday. We drove up to the mountain top where the clouds hung low and dense like a thick fog. It was a completely different weather system up here. The temperature was a good 20 degrees colder and the snow still 4" deep. A brisk wind whipped across the open spaces and although there were a few cars in the parking lot, the occupants couldn't be seen anywhere. The Skyline Drive has been closed for a couple of weeks with the winter storms, fallen trees and snapped boughs blocking roads and trails.It was impressive at how much the weather differed within a couple of miles as we'd climbed up the steep roads. We walked about for a few minutes but it was soon apparent that Jeff wasn't relishing the cold. We bundled back into the car and drove back down the mountain to search for somewhere to eat lunch.

 Snow. Now you see it now you don't. We stopped for lunch in Culpeper and didn't even spend an hour in the restaurant, yet when we were back on the road it appeared to be a different day, all the snow had gone! Apart from a few patches under trees or in ditches it had completely melted. The mountains were still clinging on to their white capes but the foothills and valleys were now muddy browns with a few patches of green grass, bright and clean after its wash with the snow.

In Luray, I had to stop when I spotted Paul Bunyan standing in front of an old building. This was a wood restoration business, I hope  they give Paul a new paint job soon, he looked a little tatty.

We chose the back roads once again and were soon driving down narrow lanes, with old barns and the occasional abandoned house struggling to remain upright.

Jeff particularly liked this old place and I could see why. Although empty and beginning to give in to gravity, greatly assisted by a fallen tree on its roof, its empty windows were like dark ominous maws against the pale paintwork. The grey day was adding nicely to the mood and although we laughed at the scene, I don't think either of us would have sniggered if we'd been on our own. Around the back was an old shed which made me chuckle when as I stepped inside saw that it had once been a man cave, their drunken trophies pinned to the walls and propped up on the window ledge.

The Skyline Drive in the distance looked majestic, the snow complimenting the contours of the peaks and ridges, grey and white clouds caught up in the range and adding a stormy backdrop. It was like the mountains belonged to another land, were part of a magical fantasy in the distance. We stood and just stared at them for a while as the clouds rolled and swirled around over the highest points.
Our last stop was HillBilly's Junkyard. I love this place and had dropped in a couple of weeks previously to get a couple of shot glasses.

Today, the owner was away but one of his friends was drilling holes in his truck bed to attach a bed box and didn't hesitate to let us roam about so we could take photos. He bent over the back of his truck, drill grinding loudly into the metal and blared obscenities as he bore down on his task. Jeff and I grinned at each other and explored. The 'office' has always been a magnet to me. I love the clutter and lighting but wished the owner had been here for a portrait photo. I guess another trip will have to be made soon. We slopped through the mud and sludge of the yard to try and find the vintage vehicles I'd photographed years ago, but we didn't see them. There were many newer cars stacked up and it seemed a bulldozer had been in here, pushing many of the wrecks to one side or stacked them on top of one another. I looked behind piles of rusted wrecks for treasures but failed to find any. We were losing interest anyway since the snow melt, along with the 'dozer tracks, had made the whole yard a quagmire. I slipped a couple of times and with huge clods of mug stuck to our boots, we slumped our way back to the car, where our friend was still cursing over his task. I don't think he even saw us pull away. For us it was time to head back to The Blue House and have a beer.

Furious Winds in Front Royal

And once again, the weather was horrendous for the weekend. After getting 5" of snow on Wednesday and then rain afterwards, Skyline Drive was still closed, making most hikes inaccessible, and those that were open were extremely muddy. So Saturday was spent catching up with family on the phone and running errands.
Sunday was sunny but high winds were due in the afternoon. Carmen and I went to our first ever Yoga class which I actually enjoyed. Some of the positions made me feel like a contortionist but I persevered and finished the class in one piece with no injuries. I was so stoked that after we'd had lunch in town I was determined to go out on my bike. We'd sat at the restaurant watching as blue skies were shoved off the horizon by dark grey clouds and then the winds arrived, blasting down the streets and thrusting the door to the restaurant open, throwing in some old winter leaves for good measure. But despite the gales it was still quite warm so upon arriving at The Blue House I hurriedly pumped up my tires and set off on my first ride around town.
I wasn't able to do the Greenway, which is a new 5 mile loop around town, as part of it that ran along the Shenandoah River which was flooded so I decided to stay downtown and explore some of the streets. I felt quite jaunty as I pedaled along, feeling the sunshine on my face and trying to ignore the increasing wind speeds. I zoomed along the back streets, noting small businesses that I'd not previously been aware of and peering onto people's porches.

 I found the Bing Crosby Stadium, a point of pride in the town. Bing was the first contributor of the building fund, donating $1000 to a new stadium, and then after his concert in 1950 (see link) he donated another $3.595 bringing the fund total to $15,000. It's a great stadium with tennis courts out the back for the community also. Nobody was about today though, all hiding from the winds...

 I love the old houses in town. Many have flat turrets on top of their roofs, something I hadn't noticed before. Maybe a French influence? Note the little dog staring down at me from the window in the top photo. My favorite house so far is the beautifully maintained house with the intricate woodwork and detailed paintwork. I sat on my bike admiring this for some time. The paint had been fastidiously applied, it must have taken days or even weeks to do this and I wondered if, when it needed to be redone, whether they'd change the color scheme or use the same palette.

 There's a few abandoned properties in the town but these two caught my eye. The garage appeared to still be in use although it was run down but the old Elks Grill has obviously been closed for some time. Some of the old houses are being restored throughout the town. Front Royal used to look a lot more battered than it does today, so it's lovely to see these old buildings coming back to life again. I hope the old grill has a makeover too.
I continued pedaling around although sometimes it was hard going. Some of the gales were fast and powerful, blowing me over to one side or pushing me back making my legs work even harder to prevent me from coming to a standstill. Piles of brown leaves which half an hour ago had simply swirled about in front of me were now lifted up high and battered me, sometimes making me close my eyes and turn my head away; they stung when they hit my face. But I persisted on on my ride, getting a few strange looks from the locals, as I battled my way along the roads.

 Up on one of the busier streets, this hideous structure is being built. It's going to be a Dunkin' Donuts but construction has been slow, which has surprised me since it's only a few sheets of chipboard with some large plate glass windows. The chipboard walls have already endured some intense soakings and I wonder how the walls still stand. Despite them being treated I really thought, and secretly hoped, that some disintegration would have begun by now. I was equally amazed when I drove past the next morning and saw it still stubbornly standing, thinking for sure that the winds would have dragged it away.
I had doggedly ridden my bike up and down the streets but the winds were winning the battle. I was finding it harder to remain upright and a couple of times I had to put my feet down as I failed to push forward against the raging gales. Luckily, home wasn't far away and with my ears and face stinging from the rapidly dropping temperatures and debris I plodded onward. I was glad to enter a warm quiet house but that night neither I or the cats got any sleep. The winds picked up intensely, slamming debris against the side of the house, lights flickered and as the squalls whipped around the corners, they shrieked in high pitched wails. I lay in bed constantly alert and waiting for a window to be blown in, which thankfully never happened. The tempest continued through the morning on my drive to work where I found my colleagues equally bleary eyed and tired. It was going to be a long Monday.