We headed out in a suped-up Grand Jeep Cherokee (nice ride but doesn't corner well) down the Beltway, I-66 toward I-81. Ugh, avoid the usual Capital traffic if you can. We would have been better to go up to I-70 in Maryland and cut over West, even if we had more miles heading South. Construction and sheer Washington driving idiocy tacked on an extra hour of stop-and-go driving.
But thankfully, we were soon on the more rural I-81, where we saw ambling farmlands, cows, streams, sheep and seedy motels. Speaking of that, we decided to stop in Harrisonburg as a half-way point for the total 6-hour drive to Ridgeway. Take our advice: drive onto Lexington and don't stop at this town. While it boasts having James Madison University, Justin and I were unimpressed by the hotel we stayed at (Ramada Conference Center, the only hotel I've stayed at where loud water pipes woke me up) or the chain restaurant location we figured was a lock for good food and service.
Oh Outback Steakhouse in Harrisonburg, you done did us wrong! Well, to be fair, it was just one of the servers---the start of what we deemed was our weekend to tick off Virginia. So we saddle up to a bar like this one and Justin decides we should do a regular shot of Jameson whiskey. Note: regular shot. Instead, our not-so-lovely server brings out two glasses that have a little more than two ounces in each of them.
"That's a bit much for me. I have to drive home. I'm sorry to make you do this but can we split one of those for a regular-sized shot," Justin says to her, trying to be empathetic because he's been a bartender at Outback.
Once the glazed-over and confused look wore off, the bartender sharply said, "I have to talk with our manager." As if this was the first time in her life a customer questioned her pouring technique. After we got our regular-sized shots, that was the last we saw of her scintillating personality. Instead, her companion bartender checked on our food, refilled drinks and actually talked to us.
Ticked-off Virginian #1.
But undeterred, we ventured on the next day to Ridgeway, deciding to take the lovely Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway on our way through Roanoke. Understandably, Justin wanted to stop many times to take pictures. But the poor guy forgot to bring fresh batteries. Hence, we thought we were in luck when a state park store offered batteries.
"Wow, $10 for four of them," Justin said jovially to the park ranger/clerk at the register. "That's market demand working right there." She scrunched her face before saying, "Sir, we don't set the prices here."
Ticked-off Virginian #2.
Still, beautiful weather and a serene drive through the mountains melted away those minor irritations we seemed to cause. If you've never driven on the Blue Ridge Parkway, devote a morning or afternoon to this gorgeous drive. You get pretty views like these:
Eventually, we made our way to my great Aunt Betty's home in Ridgeway. We had a delightful stay that evening. My aunt is this amazing woman who lives on her own in the same house she and her deceased husband lived in for nearly 40 years (with her son and daughter nearby to help). She kindly hosted us for one night before we headed back Northeast toward home. But we made a detour stop in Charlottesville to enjoy it's scenic cityscape, University and plaza mall.
We stayed at this quaint downtown bed and breakfast called The Leathers Snyder Inn. It's a great location to walk through Charlottesville, but we came away a little unimpressed with breakfast. We're now spoiled in that we assume every B&B puts out a collossal spread. And while Leathers had nice pastries, fruits and breads, we were both carb-overloaded and crashing by around 11 a.m. About the time we finished enjoying Monticello:
Isn't it pretty? The property is huge so best to set aside a few hours to do the tour and walk around. They run a pretty tight ship on the tours as we soon learned when we got to the line-up area right in front of the house. We figured since our tour started at 11:10 a.m., we were sitting pretty by lining up at 11:00 a.m.
How foolish we were. "Excuse me, what time are you two taking the tour," a somewhat stern-sounding tour manager asked us in line. "11:10? Okay you need to get out of this line and wait until I tell you that we're lining up for the 11:10 tour."
Ticked off Virginian #3.
Aww, but who can worry about making others mad when you're out seeing nature at its finest in a pristine plantation? Not us, that's who.
Ultimately, we had four fun days of driving around pretty countrysides, mountains and rural roads. And it was special for me that Justin could meet one of my most cherished aunts. Plus, we get a sick happiness from ticking off Virginians!
Trip Stats:
Miles Driven: 600+
Total Tolls: $0 (woo-hoo)
Ticked Virginians: 3, not counting some road rage from others.
No comments:
Post a Comment