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<\/a>Celebrating 250 years in business this year, it boasts 15,000 acres of fields and forests, with activities ranging from wading and swimming pools to hot springs and warm springs where Thomas Jefferson used to \u201ctake the waters\u201d for his health and welfare, from horseback riding and falconry to archery and skeet, from hiking the gorge to just sitting back on the veranda and watching the world go by. \u00a0Sitting, typing this from the veranda, I present my view.<\/p>\nI can easily imagine my friend Mark Twain sitting on this same veranda. Mind you, this particular building wasn\u2019t completed until the 1920s, so he certainly didn\u2019t, but he would have enjoyed it.<\/p>\n
Thursday dinner was at their Casino restaurant, with a table that couldn\u2019t stop moving. \u00a0While the table was loose from the base, and the base was not stable on the floor, we still knew it was actually the Reigning Queen of Pink causing our dinners to bounce – the table was rocking in rhythm. Any of the rest of us and it would have been rocking asymmetrically; with her at the helm, our dinners were executing a perfect sine wave. \u00a0The restaurant at the Casino (which turns out of be a word used in its original meaning, which has to do with indoor sports and has nothing, to my regret, to do with gambling) had a small army of staff milling about, which was\u00a0odd because none of them seemed to be able to find our table. \u00a0I mean, the movement might have been throwing them\u00a0off, but still.<\/p>\n
My father, having been a math major, added 50 with 70 and declared it a 120 celebration \u2013 and celebrate we did, with them and the Very Clever Aunt and Her Michael. We are, at least on my side, new to the \u201cresort\u201d scene. In this case, certainly, I could get used to this in a hurry.<\/p>\n Friday we were joined by the aforementioned\u00a0Very Clever Aunt and Her Michael; dinner was at Jefferson\u2019s. \u00a0There any number of amazing restaurants at the Homestead, plus four bars. \u00a0In point of fact, dinner was preceded by drinks with Kipling, who went out of his way to ensure that we had excellent seating and an excellent time. \u00a0Jefferson\u2019s was a great dinner; I enjoyed braised lamb to die for with gnocchi and sage. \u00a0One of the funniest bits was actually a few hours before dinner; I got a call from the restaurant confirming our dinner reservations – they had meant to reach my father.\u00a0 I decided that I might not be “the” Lang, but I was “a” Lang, and I was qualified to confirm our reservation.\u00a0 The RQOP, who’s first name starts begins the alphabet, stepped out of the shadows and announced that no, SHE was “A. Lang,” by god.\u00a0 I stood\u00a0corrected, but I confirmed the reservations anyway.<\/p>\n During the course of the trip, I posted a postcard or two \u2013 and found a wonder. I have always wanted to drop a letter into one of those old-fashioned \u201cmail your letters here in this box on the wall\u201d boxes; the old Cutler Mailing System<\/a> letterboxes. \u00a0 This town is small enough that the post office closes before noon on Saturday, and the Homestead doesn\u2019t bother \u2013 so any mail that misses on Friday will go out Monday. \u00a0I am perhaps irrationally excited to have mailed things from a Cutler box.<\/p>\n The next day dawning bright and clear, we hiked the Cascades Gorge. That sounds simple, but it isn\u2019t. \u00a0The reason it isn\u2019t is named Brian La Fountain, who is\u00a0the funniest, most well informed, most energetic, most passionate tour guide I have ever encountered. Number One Son, who does NOT want to go outside much, not only expounded on his appreciation for the hike, but gave Brian a hug \u2013 a rare compliment from a 16-yr-old boy.<\/p>\n Brian explained a dozen things in a dozen ways, and did so while keeping up a running patter of puns and jokes that jollied even my jaded children into enjoying themselves. He is a terrific guide; making sure people can hear him, making sure we understood the rules and their reasons. BUMD:<\/strong> \u00a0Tree balls – bigger than I thought they’d be! So, I’ve joined the ranks of the Bros who send dick pics. \u00a0I feel so basic!<\/p>\n We had a terrific time all around. \u00a0SOBUMD and I were instructed on our golf swings, the girls went horseback riding with FOBUMD, and the ladies took in the wonders of the Spa. \u00a0We all wound up in the outdoor pool (of course it has a bar, why do you ask?) at one point or another, complete with its massive water slides. \u00a0Canoeing, however, was cancelled due to the torrential rains that we’d driven through – a good call on the part of the Homestead. \u00a0There was a delightful dinner at a grill named after Sam Snead, who is famous in the golf world and called this town home. \u00a0 Falconry is fascinating. \u00a0It turns out that while much falconry is in fact accomplished with falcons, much more is done with hawks here in the United States. \u00a0The Homestead has many birds and trainers; I was introduced to Linda – and Remington. \u00a0You need 2 and half years of training apprenticeship to receive\u00a0a falconry license in the US. \u00a0Linda names some of her birds, such as Remington, after guns \u2013 because as far as the US fish and wildlife department is concerned, in her hands, that\u2019s a lethal hunting weapon. \u00a0 Wearing the gauntlet, I had Remington land on my hand and then, with a slight flick of the wrist, sent her aloft again, on her way to the nearby roof. \u00a0Despite a wingspan of close to 3 feet, she weighs only slightly more than 2 pounds – and can fly through any opening wider than her chestplate. \u00a0Linda had her demonstrate this by standing us increasing close together and convincing her to fly between us – impressively nearly knocking my phone from my hand in the process. \u00a0I was wing-whacked a few times – it was an experience I’ve thought about for more than 40 years, and I was thrilled.<\/p>\n That’s right – the kids cleaned up. \u00a0Even Number One Son, who looks slightly like Kramer from Seinfeld in this picture. \u00a0Glamour seems to come more naturally to the girls. \u00a0 The dinner was sumptuous, with live music, yummy wine, appetizers, and dancing – until SOBUMD took her first bite of her dinner and had an anaphylactic reaction to something in the sauce. She’s highly allergic to cinnamon, and while the staff didn’t think there was any in the dish, there must have been something close enough to it. \u00a0She had been looking forward to that plate since before we’d arrived, so not being able to eat it was killing her – unfortunately very nearly literally; it took me\u00a020 minutes to get her back to the room, along with several hits from her emergency inhaler and enough Benadryl to stop a horse. \u00a0(She decided against the epi-pen only because that would have involved an ambulance ride to the nearest ER, and the\u00a0Benadryl and inhalers were starting to kick in – along with not wanting to further complicate the evening.) \u00a0 The rest of the crew was able to finish dinner (although the prime rib evidently got the better of Number One Son), and we all made it to our respective beds. \u00a0Luckily, we all woke in the morning as well.<\/p>\n Eventually the sunrise did what it always does to such times, and it was time be under way, back to the open road, and home. \u00a0We returned to our lives feeling like\u00a0Muggles, bereft of the magic words that had sustained us for the past days: \u00a0“Please charge this to room 7155.” \u00a0 It turns out that doesn’t work at my local grocery store at all. \u00a0We also missed the whole concept of having cocktails served before going through for dinner. \u00a0 The after action report on the 120 celebration and the Homestead Weekend was best summed up in an email exchange between FOBUMD, who organized and funded the entire trip, and the rest of us. \u00a0A few days after we arrived home and became reacquainted\u00a0with\u00a0our more usual\u00a0standard of living, he sent the entire party a note thanking us\u00a0for celebrating with them.<\/p>\n For a change,\u00a0I was speechless. \u00a0The English language doesn’t have a lot of good words to convey the sense of appreciation we felt, but I was reminded of FOBUMD’s description of an evening he spent, years ago, with his brother George. “A brother is someone who picks you up in the rain with little notice, takes you home, stays up past 2 am while you talk and finish\u00a0all his Scotch, then drives you back to the airport in the morning and says ‘Great to see you’ – and means it!”<\/p>\n<\/a>As the Homestead is celebrating 250 in business this year, they are setting off fireworks each Friday in the summer. \u00a0To further commemorate this 250th anniversary, they’re serving\u00a0a different cake every day of the year, in the lobby with tea from 3-4pm. \u00a0Friday’s\u00a0was lemon blueberry \u2013 most excellent! I can\u2019t imagine more than about 100 ways to do cake; hats off to their chef.<\/p>\n<\/a>Speaking of Anniversaries: allow me to digress a moment on the reason for the trip. My parents this June celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. The same month saw my mother turn 70 a few days later. \u00a0They are amazing! \u00a0(For those of you doing the math at home, yes, my father plays up the fact that she was a teen-aged bride.)<\/p>\n<\/a>Following dinner and the fireworks, we retired to the Very Clever Grandparent’s room. \u00a0We had all been carefully instructed: “no presents.” \u00a0We\u00a0decided that \u201cno presents\u201d didn\u2019t count if the presents were consumable and stood a good chance of not leaving the grounds.<\/p>\n<\/a>As a former letter carrier, those things were cool \u2013 a blend of art and function, usually with\u00a0old art-deco styling to them. \u00a0I doublechecked first, since many times you see them and they’re no longer being serviced or checked on, but the Homestead confirmed that theirs\u00a0is still in use, and if you\u2019re on the upper floor, you can still drop your letter in the upper box and it will slide into this one.<\/p>\n<\/a>The hike itself was amazing. I shall include only a sample of the views, because if I posted all the pictures I took, this post would take more time to load than we took hiking the gorge.<\/p>\n<\/a>I also noticed his quiet attention to the details that he didn\u2019t talk about \u2013 he was very careful about counting the group, making sure that everyone was keeping up and doing OK\u00a0with climbing over the wet bridges and steeper rocks, without making it at all obvious that he was doing so: The mark of a great guide is that you don\u2019t see the attention he\u2019s paying. He\u2019s a great guide. He also has a gift for stand-up comedy to rival Leno. \u00a0He\u00a0told us only one lie: He said he was 50 years old.\u00a0 No one with his exuberance, good looks, and joy de vivre could be so old.<\/p>\n<\/a>The interesting views of nature are not limited to the gorge, however. \u00a0Right outside our door was a tree. \u00a0Well, a few dozen trees, really, but one of them stood out – most trees, growing as they do straight up and tall, have a somewhat phallic look to them anyway. \u00a0Very few have the balls to show for it, though. \u00a0(The Human Tape Recorder decided this one much be named Johnny One-Nut.) \u00a0The most embarrassing bit is\u00a0that I took the picture, then sent it in a text to a good friend, female type.<\/p>\n
\nHer:<\/strong> \u00a0Wow that’s an interesting tree. \u00a0That protrusion looks quite phallic.
\nBUMD:<\/strong> Oh my god, I’m sending you deciduous dick pics. I’m so busted!<\/p>\n<\/a>In addition to the amazing nature scenes, there are outdoor pools and spas and springs, plus there’s an indoor pool – in case it’s raining, or you’re just feeling indoorsy. \u00a0And when I say indoor pool, I mean This Is What I Want My Basement To Look Like. \u00a0 Is that too much to ask? \u00a0This pool is larger than my house and would have made the Romans proud. \u00a0One of the best parts of swimming was seeing Her Michael’s tattoo: It says “#FFFFFF\u00a0TRASH” – which is funny on a lot of levels, not least that it’s only supported by Netscape 5.0 these days.<\/p>\n<\/a>On top of all that, I was very lucky and, with 5 minutes to spare, had the \u00a0chance\u00a0to satisfy a life-long interest in falconry with Remington, the Harris Hawk.<\/p>\n<\/a>This is somewhat incongruous\u00a0considering that you need practically nothing to own an actual Remington.<\/p>\n<\/a>That evening was the last, and as fitting of a final dinner at such a place and to commemorate such a 120 celebration, dinner was in the formal dining room. \u00a0If you’re picturing something from Downton Abby, you’re not too far wrong. \u00a0We dressed, we all dressed. \u00a0Even those of us who do not, as a rule, dress for dinner, dressed.<\/p>\n<\/a>\u00a0I tend to wear business attire pretty much every weekday, so the whole business of getting dressed up wasn’t as traumatic for me as it was for Number One Son – he dressed for the ages, for one of the most formal events of his young life. \u00a0I dressed for a Tuesday. \u00a0Hardly seems fair, really. \u00a0Also, the Very Clever Aunt and Her Michael were not exempt from this! \u00a0While the caption over their heads states “Birds of North America,” they are from Baltimore, and so technically I think this is a picture of Orioles.<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a>I woke early and took a few pre-dawn pictures of the place for posterity, to compliment the pictures of the previous evenings. \u00a0The building is too large for any one picture; these only just begin to provide a sense of scale. \u00a0There are nearly 500 rooms, all of which were full while we were there – largely because The Greenbriar,\u00a0<\/a>which is only a few dozen miles away, had flooded in the recent rains and sent a lot of its overflow to The Homestead. \u00a0Our building itself had taken some water, but nothing compared to the devastation around us. \u00a0The wet grounds provided morning fog for the sun to burn through, the kind that armature photographers love.<\/p>\n<\/a>This is an inherently civilized thing to do. \u00a0If I could have brought the redoubtable Kipling home with us, I would have.<\/p>\n