Thursday, May 22, 2025

Trip to Virginia for Ellie's Wedding

My youngest daughter Ellie married her boyfriend Jolshua over Memorial Day weekend, a rare break in her schedule between her third and fourth year of medical school. We flew back to Virginia for the ceremony, landing at Dulles Airport and driving to Richmond for three days of festivities at my ex-wife's house. Friday night was a get-together for both immediate families; Saturday was the small outdoor wedding; and Sunday was a brunch including more friends and family.

After the wedding, on Memorial Day itself, we drove to Front Royal to reunite with Jeff and Kelly at their winery on the sole sunny day of the week. We would do little the next two days because of the rain except wish we were back in sunny dry Central Oregon.

Hard to Fathom That My Baby is Old Enough to Marry

Thursday


The morning of our flight saw unusual weather in arid Central Oregon, chilly with intermittent showers. Chilly is not unusual, but rain is. Perhaps this is a continuation of the La Niña pattern that brought us such a snowy winter. Just before we left the house, I made us turkey sandwiches for the trip, almost an afterthought. I am still not used to airlines not serving any food. It is a good thing that I thought to make them because, unexpectedly, we would have no layover in Seattle in which to get a bite to eat before our 5-hour-flight to the the East Coast.

Our shuttle to the airport was early and fast, a reason that we almost always use the service rather than pay the $24/day parking fee at the airport. And the shuttle plus tips is less expensive than parking for any trip over four days. On arriving at RDM, we had to endure the longest security line we have ever seen, maybe 10 deep! Flying out of Redmond is always a breeze and this time was no exception even though one idiot without an acceptable ID tried his best to hold up the line. 

As our departure time neared, I found it unusual that our flight crew was milling around the gate with us passengers. I decided to look out the window: no plane. Our inbound flight from Seattle was delayed 70 minutes, erasing our layover time at SEA and threatening to make us miss our flight to Dulles. Because the next flight out of SEA to IAD was the red-eye at nearly midnight, we did not rebook at RDM. We could see that the inbound flight was in the air and decided to see if we could make the super-tight connection. There would be ample time to rebook in SEA if we missed our original flight.

I texted both my daughters that the probability of missing our connecting flight was high and that we might end up taking the red-eye that night and arriving first thing on Friday morning. Our plan to arrive at IAD at midnight and hole up at the Dulles Marriott might be shot.

At long last, an Air Alaska 737 came screaming down the runway and the wait for the ground crew to turn it around seemed nearly interminable. First thing I heard on boarding was a cat meowing loudly. It got worse on taxi and reached a crescendo on take-off. The poor thing finally quieted, only to restart on landing at SEA about 40 minutes later.

On final to the airport, the head flight attendant sought us and six other passengers out. The net of the conversation was that she wanted the eight of us lined up behind her with our bags even before she opened the door. She made an announcement to the cabin for everyone to stay seated while we sprinted to the front of the plane.

Ready to move to the front as soon as we pulled to a stop, we encountered more drama. We had a 2-minute hold while the plane already at our gate pushed back and two minutes was critical. Naturally, we arrived in one terminal and had to take the train to another terminal. Ann and I were hauling butt and as we ran to our gate, the gate agent was urging us on. They closed the airplane door just behind us. Whew!

Fortunately, that was the end of the drama: the flight to Dulles was routine. On getting off the jet, I found that I no longer recognize Dulles, my home airport of 40 years, an airport I have transited hundreds of time. We came into the new B gates in a very modern-looking terminal and found an underground train back to the historic main terminal. I had heard rumor of a hypothetical future train before we left Virginia for Oregon, but was still shocked not to have to take a people mover, the iconic elevated buses that are or were the signature of this airport.

We caught a shuttle to the airport Marriott and I finally got to sleep at 2 a.m. after locating a place for coffee the following morning along our route to Richmond.

Friday


I awakened at 6:20 local time, 3:20 in the morning my time, and I could not get back to sleep. In the daylight in the 1970s Dulles Marriott, I could see that we had a large suite on the pool level with 6-person dining table, 2 TVs, and sectional sofa. I failed to appreciate all of this when checking in after midnight last evening.

Once we got our act together, we took the shuttle back to the airport where we picked up another shuttle for the rental car center. As we were driving to the rental car center, I saw the above-ground Metro trains of the new Silver Line, something that we had been hoping for for at least 30 years but which was not built when we left DC for the West Coast.

A long line awaited us at the rental car center, no doubt because of the holiday weekend. I was eager to get away, fearing traffic on I-95, but the line was going to take as long as the line was going to take. When we went to find our assigned car, it was a tiny Hyundai Sonata. Used to driving a full-sized pickup truck, I found it tiny and terribly low to the ground for my 6'-4" frame.

We headed south from the airport down VA-28, stopping at a coffee shop in Centreville, where I lived in the late 1980s, to find another long line of customers trying to get coffee. Nobody except those in the service industry seemed to be working on this holiday weekend.

As an aside, the first thing we noticed was that Dulles is so not Oregon; it is so refreshingly racially diverse where Central Oregon is so white. This was reinforced at the hotel, the rental car center, and at the coffee shop where most customers were Asian or Asian-American. Diversity is one of the few things that we miss about the East Coast.

I-95, a Parking Lot Because of Holiday Traffic
Mile After Mile of Stopped Traffic
Traffic through Manassas was not bad, but once on I-95, it was at a standstill. The entire trip from the airport to Richmond took four hours, plus another 20 or so minutes for our morning coffee. This is a trip that I have made many times in well under two hours. At one point while we were at a dead stop, a crow alighted on the guard rail next to us where it looked like a tiny blackbird compared to massive ravens of Central Oregon.
 
The trip had me hating both I-95 and Memorial Weekend traffic! I have especial hatred for a blacked out black-on-black Chevy Silverado with Gadsden Flag (the "Don't Tread on Me" symbol co-opted by the far right) plates tricked out for the Zombie Apocalypse with aftermarket welded bumpers, snorkel, jerry cans, and racks galore. The steering wheel obscured the diminutive driver who that tailgated me obnoxiously and aggressively for miles of stop and go. Clearly, he has special dispensation to drive like a pendejo. What is the saying about the size of the truck?

In a huge change since we left Virginia in 2017, casinos are legal since 2020. Churchill Downs apparently owns the massive Rose Gaming Resort in Dumfries along I-95. Is the term "gaming resort" somehow more palatable than "casino?"

We finally arrived in late afternoon at the Boulevard Inn in Richmond, right in the historic Fan neighborhood, conveniently located at the intersection of West Main and Arthur Ashe Boulevard ("the Boulevard"). I find it a nearly impossible coincidence that Ellie and Jolshua also booked at same beautiful place, a 1914 Colonial Revival townhouse. The interior is stunning.


Worn out from little sleep and a frustratingly long drive, I tried to nap to refresh myself for the evening's dinner, but it was impossible because of city traffic noise which we would discover was quiet compared to later on. We gave up and went downstairs to have a glass of wine before driving to my ex-wife's house for the get-together and the opportunity to meet Jolshua's parents who were driving up from Orlando in the very same I-95 traffic.

Getting Ready for Game Time
Happy Hour Spread at the Boulevard Inn
After a glass of wine and a cracker or two (we had no lunch), we drove out to my ex-wife's house out in Chesterfield County just outside Richmond for a get-together of the two families. I have spent a lot of time in Richmond, especially in the west end and south of the James River, so I am familiar with most of the main roads there. We had no problem finding her house in a beautiful and quiet neighborhood.

Jolshua's Family: Lilli, Jolshua, Nishma, Pedro
Primo Nick on the Camera
This was my first real chance to meet my new son-in-law; we shook hands once in passing at Lillie's medical school graduation in Philadelphia in 2022. And we got to meet his family once they arrived. Jolshua and Ellie had arranged for Mediterranean food for dinner: falafel, tzatziki, tabouleh, chicken kebabs, and fatayer, Lebanese triangular pastries in the same vein as samosas. The roughly dozen of us sat around on the deck enjoying the phenomenal weather during dinner.

Pita, Tzatziki, Tabouleh, Falafel
Ann and I took leave of everyone about dark and made our way back into the city where we tried to get some sleep. Ann was more successful than me; my body was still firmly on West Coast time. The central location of the B&B was great, except that motorcycle hoodlums have taken over the downtown roaring about recklessly, safe in the knowledge that Richmond Police Department's pursuit policy prohibits the cops attempting to stop this behavior. I am certain that the police understand the necessity of such a policy in a thickly populated high traffic area, but I am equally certain it chaps their asses.

From after dark until after three in the morning, gangs of unmuffled motorcycles marauded through downtown making a nearly unbearable racket, lap after lap. Adding to this mayhem, by ABC regulation, bars in Virginia must stop serving alcohol at 2 a.m. The Boulevard Inn, situated in a prime bar area, sees hordes of obnoxiously loud drunks below its windows at closing time, especially on a holiday weekend. The traffic and pedestrian noise peaked from 01:45 to 02:30. Needless to say, I was not asleep.

Saturday 


I finally fell asleep around 03:00 and kitchen noise from downstairs awakened me at 08:50 out of a deep sleep. I know it was a deep sleep because I found a text from Ellie at 8:30, a text that normally would have awakened me. She was letting us know that she and Jolshua were at breakfast. We rushed to brush our teeth and pull on clothes. Barely presentable, Ann and I staggered to breakfast feeling hungover from sleep deprivation. I had coffee but no food although breakfast looked great and our hosts were charming.

I tried to go back to sleep after coffee but after four espressos, that was not in the cards. I laid in bed until we had to shower, dress, and leave for the wedding in the early afternoon, a little more rested but no less sleepy.

The wedding was outside in Marianne's back yard on an unseasonably cool and gorgeous day, perfect weather. We packed for typical hot and humid Virginia weather; Ann found herself wishing she brought heavier clothes. We kibitzed for a good while while Ellie and Jolshua got dressed and the photographer did her thing.

Doing the Thing
Ultimately, we all gathered in the back yard and watched as first Jolshua and then Ellie came down the deck stairs. Jolshua's cousin, Nick, performed a great ceremony to marry them. Afterwards, we all had to pose for the obligatory "official" photos. I was busy shooting more candid shots.

After photos, I went into the kitchen where I got shanghaied into helping put together a couple of charcuterie boards. Jolshua and Ellie each made a pitcher of cocktails to go with the noshes. We passed the afternoon chatting away until, suddenly it seemed, it was time to go to a local steakhouse to celebrate over dinner.

Steakhouse Celebration
After dinner, the kids were going out for cocktails downtown within walking distance of the B&B, so we dropped them off and headed for bed, exhausted after two nights with little sleep. They asked us to come out with them, but we were their age once: kids do not really need the old farts hanging around even though they are too polite to say so.

Sunday


And the motorcycle racing continued well into the morning making it impossible to sleep yet again. I listened to the crowds of rowdy drunks leaving the bars at 02:00 and finally fell asleep at 02:30 only to awake from bright sun at 07:00. I did not hear the kids come in in the night, but we had breakfast with them the following morning.

Breakfast with Ellie and Jolshua
Before going out to Marianne's for a post-wedding brunch to which more friends and family were invited, we needed to take Ellie and Jolshua to pick up the barbeque for the brunch. They had left their car at Marianne's the night before and got a ride into town with us, because we were staying at the same place.

Cutting the Wedding Cake at the Brunch
In the late afternoon as most of the guests had gone, Ann and I also said our goodbyes and returned to downtown. On Friday, we met a couple at our B&B who were getting married at a local wine bar Sunday morning and we wanted to drop by and wish them well. We parked the car at the B&B and walked to Jardin wine bar only to find that the couple was long gone.

Lillie's friend Sarah and her date Phil agreed to join us at Jardin. I thought that Stephanie and Lillie were coming too, but they jetted for their home in North Carolina, ostensibly to get ahead of traffic, but I imagine they were exhausted too. And Lillie had to be in the Cardiac ICU on Tuesday morning. I was unsure if Jolshua and Ellie were coming (they did not) but I knew that we would see them again on Monday morning before they returned to Philly. Ellie was also due in the ICU on Tuesday morning. Busy lives these kids lead.

Jardin has a nice setup with a bar/wine shelving downstairs off an open treed courtyard with lots of seating. Unfortunately, the execution was less good than the location. Trying to get service at the bar was like pulling teeth and then the level of knowledge of the staff was suspect, "the Chablis is like Chardonnay.” We had some really marginal wine and at 6:30, I went to the bar to order some small plates for dinner only to be told that the kitchen was closed, this despite the place hopping with many dozen customers at the tables.

So, needing to eat, we set out to find a restaurant. Spying a ramen joint across the way, we went in. I guess I'm spoiled for ramen; this effort was only so-so. After dinner, Sarah and Phil left for the two-hour drive back to Winchester where he has just bought one of the grand mansions whose former owners were good friends of mine. Ann and I walked back as it got dark, an hour earlier than it would in Oregon.

Because After Wine, Lemondrops Are a Good Idea!
Walking Back to the B&B

Monday


Fortunately, the bar crowds and motorcycles took a break on a Sunday night and I was able to get my first night's sleep in four days. I woke up of my own accord at 06:00 after the first decent night’s sleep in Virginia. The motorcycles took the night off, perhaps thanks to wet pavement, though we heard and saw many during our time at the Jardin wine bar last evening. They were riding wheelies down Main Street, a public nuisance.

Today would be the final goodbye to Ellie and Jolshua as they left town to return to Philly before breakfast. A gray sky and a damp sidewalk greeted us as I walked them to their car. I went back in to have a cup of coffee before Ann joined me for a quick breakfast. On our way out of Richmond headed north, we stopped at a grocery store to get a bit of cheese and salame for the next couple of days.

Avoiding the interstate, we took the back way to Glen Manor via Gordonsville, Orange, Madison, Sperryville, Little Washington, and Front Royal. We spent a delightful afternoon at Glen Manor before returning to our B&B in Front Royal for the night.

Gorgeous Memorial Day at Glen Manor Tasting Room
The B&B Had a Lot of Decor

Tuesday


I got another reasonable (six-hour) night of sleep before breakfast, an impressive affair and way more food than I wanted to eat. Breakfast in my book is a cup of coffee and perhaps a bagel. Before checking out, I had a nice chat with the owner who used to be a customer at my restaurant. Outside, we found it gloomy and sprinkling as we waded through the chickens to our car.

Monday evening, we made tentative plans to have dinner with Jeff and Kelly. Jeff texted before I got up (he is a farmer and keeps farmer hours) to ask us to confirm with Kelly if meeting at 2:30 at Guadalajara in Winchester would work. I texted her that we would meet them there. It is not a coincidence that the very last meal we shared with them before we moved to Oregon in 2017 was at this restaurant; the food is way above average.

We decided to spend Tuesday night in Winchester, where we used to live, and booked a room at the George Washington Hotel. We could not check in until late, but I had envisioned taking a scenic loop to Winchester to kill some time. All my plans were predicated unfortunately on decent weather and it poured all day.

We left Front Royal at 10:00 and headed for a loop around the mountains. We drove first south to Luray, then west to New Market, then north to Meem's Bottom Bridge up Valley Pike, US 11, to Winchester. We stopped by this covered bridge for a couple of minutes, to relive old memories, but the rain really precluded an extended stay.

Meem's Bottom Bridge

From the bridge just south of Mt. Jackson, we continued north into Winchester. Before going to the hotel, we drove by my old house, a large 19th century Victorian near the high school, the house in which both Ellie and Lillie grew up. The new owners have continued to do work to it including repainting it from the multi-color Victorian look to a more modern gray and white scheme. It looks good and I texted the new owner that I like what she has done.

In the pouring rain, we parked behind the GW Hotel about noon and went inside to check in. We had phoned earlier to find that early check-in would not be a problem. There I reconnected with the GM, a longtime acquaintance, and unbeknownst to me, while I was fetching in our bags, she upgraded our room. That was definitely unexpected.

Torta Ahogada at Guadalajara
Not Brilliant Plating but Delicious
In the driving rain, we arrived at Guadalajara to find Jeff and Kelly already seated. At a restaurant called Guadalajara, I must order a torta ahogada, the signature dish of that city. This sandwich of carnitas is drowned ("ahogada") in a spicy tomato and chile sauce and is a mess to eat. I wondered what kind of bread they would use (it has to be sturdy to hold up to the drowning), because I doubted that they would be able to get the traditional birote. It came on a ciabatta roll from Costco and seemed like an OK compromise. I prefer a more traditional and more spicy árbol sauce, rather than tomato. The carnitas were really nice and tasted of a bit of orange rind, a nice touch.

After our late lunch/early dinner, we drove back to the hotel for a nap. Although we considered going out for dinner, the pouring rain kept us holed up and truthfully, after that big late lunch, we did not need dinner.

Promptly at 7:00, the bass line of La Macarena came pulsing through the floor from the ballroom just below us. Oh joy! The front desk told us that it was a prom for special needs kids and promised it would stop promptly at 8:00. It did.

Wednesday 


I awoke in the morning from the first great night's sleep in a week. Looking out the window, I could see that the rain continued. Our hotel for the night, the Dulles Marriott once again, has a 4:00 check in time and we were debating how to spend the day. The rain precluded a lot of options.

We had planned to spend an hour or two over coffee at the nearby Doppio Bunny coffee shop, but they do not have parking and we would have been soaked walking to it. I remembered reading that they also had a store in Purcellville across the mountains in Loudoun County, so we started that direction.

In leaving Winchester, where I raised my kids, lived for 25 years, and met and married Ann, I reflected on being back for the first time in 8 years. Some places that I return to (the city of my birth and the city where I finished high school, for example), I look back on with some nostalgia. For some reason (restaurant and divorce trauma?), the return to Winchester did not evoke that nostalgia, either for me or for Ann.

I was dumbfounded to sense relief, as in “Thank God I no longer live here!” I really did not expect to feel this and it threw me for a bit of a loop. I have nothing against Winchester or any of the many friends who still call it home, but it seems clear that I have totally converted to West Coaster.

Continuing on through Clarke County and across the Shenandoah, we made our way to Doppio Bunny in Purcellville which has parking with a short walk to the door. We spent a couple hours chatting with a local woman who is a volunteer firefighter when she is not working her cybersecurity job. At about 12:30, we were trying to decide how to spend the afternoon when Ann said she would like to find a wine bar.

So I searched the Internet and determined that we were less than 200 yards from Knead Wine, which you may recall from the Glen Manor post, we learned about from Jason Bise who is the manager. We we went right over to the store where Jason greeted us as we walked in, as surprised to see us as we were to see home. Our being in Purcellville was totally random and visiting his store never occurred to us.

Choosing a Wine at Knead Wine
Etna Rosso: A New Favorite
Really Good Pizza
We selected a bottle of Etna Rosso, the Nerello Mascalese wine that we blind tasted on Monday, to go with our pizza. While waiting for pizzas and sipping wine, we chatted with Jason and owner Jarad Slipp, who I had actually never met before although we have about zero degrees of separation. The pizza was really well done, so we ordered two more to go and another bottle of wine to take back to the hotel for dinner.

At 3:00 we arrived at the rental car return and caught the shuttle to the terminal where we would wait for the hotel shuttle. The first Marriott shuttle did not stop and just kept on driving. We finally got him to stop on the second pass, 15 minutes later. The driver was maximally surly driver having giving up caring for Lent. We arrived at the hotel at 4:00 and settled in for the evening and a very early morning alarm.

At dinner time, I found there was no wine key in our room; we were not in a suite with a furnished kitchen and dining room like our previous stay here. I walked upstairs to the bar where I had a terrible time getting the attention of the world’s surliest bartender. I'm sensing a theme at the Dulles Marriott.

Netflix, wine, and pizza was perfect on a rainy night when we were both exhausted.
 

Thursday 


Before going to bed, I set an alarm for 04:55 for our 06:30 flight. I need not have bothered; I awoke at 02:15 and could not get back to sleep. At 05:05, Ann and I had checked out and were waiting out front of the hotel for the shuttle. It was dark (weird, because it would be light in Oregon from 04:00 on) and seemed cloudy and über-humid but not raining.

Despite the lack of automobile traffic, it was loud out front, a true avian cacophony: a Catbird in the shrubs near the parking lot, a Northern Mockingbird on a light pole, a Carolina Wren in the Lebanese Cedar by the front door, and a Song Sparrow trying to outcompete the others from a shrub by the door.

Our morning shuttle driver was much more cordial and the drive to the terminal brief. We breezed through security at 05:26 and were seated at our gate five minutes later, my fastest transit of IAD ever, an airport I have flown from most of my life.

The first coffee shop we passed had not yet opened, so I left Ann at the gate with our bags and wandered off in search of coffee. The drip coffee from Capitol Grounds was the best I can ever remember at an airport, extremely good.

Our 737 was pretty empty so they had to move passengers about the cabin for weight distribution. Once the cabin was seated to the crew's liking, we pushed back and discovered a benefit of flying this early: we never slowed down. As we rounded the corner onto the runway, we did not pause before the crew pushed the throttles forward. Although drab and drizzly on the ground, the ceiling was low and thin; we were above it within 60 seconds.

In flight, seeing that our final destination was Redmond, the flight attendant for our section approached us and told us she used to live in Prineville. Small world, and yet not. I am always amazed that we can fly across the country in under five hours, a country that takes days to cross by car. It was a super easy and smooth flight. During our 2-1/2 hour layover at SEA, we had coffee and breakfast awaiting our 12:30 flight home. Just after 1:00, we were home and it was hard to imagine that we were just on the East Coast and baby Ellie is now a married woman.

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