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Chapter One
Madelyn Wheaton
Putter. Putter. Pfft.Boom!
Dropping my forehead to the steering wheel, I groan. I can’t bear to look and see if anyone saw my Volkswagen Bus fart and putter itself to death, five feet from a valid parking spot. This truly is the last summer in so many ways.
With my purse slung over my shoulder, and my embarrassment on full display, I meander into the lodge as if a smoking vintage car parked in the middle of the road, is an acceptable occurrence.
“Hi there, checking in?” Susie, the desk clerk, smiles at me as if I don’t look as road weary as I feel.
“Yes, ma’am, for the week. Here’s my ID and card. And I have a bit of an issue. My car has died in the middle of the road out front. Is there a tow company that you can call for me?”
“Of course. Let’s get you checked in, and I’ll call someone to give you and your bags a lift to your cabin. And how about a complimentary wine for your troubles?”
“You’re a doll, but I’m not drinking.”
“Chocolates then. And here’s your key to Houseman Cottage which is straight out the door, by the lake…”
I tune out Susie after that. It’s too much information for me to process right now. Thankfully, within a few minutes, I’m whisked away on a fancy golf cart with all-terrain wheels and most of the contents of my van. Humiliating. If my Park Avenue parents could see me now, they’d be horrified. Pregnant, dumped before the altar, and now homeless.
But it’s nothing. A mere bump in the road and I will get through with a little yoga and manifesting; Manifesting for peace within myself. For continued healing of my heart. And for the universe to protect and guide me and my unborn child.
July 15, 2022
Dear Readers,
Big Blue has died.
Don’t fret though, I am safe. Big Blue puttered her last breath as I pulled into my parking space at Mountain Ridge Resort. We’ll add mourning the loss of her to the list of things I need to heal from during my two weeks here. Sigh. Anyone in the market for a rehab project? Must pick up in person and tow at your own expense. All travel #vanlife accoutrements included.
In other news, it’s with sadness and a deep sense of gratitude that I confirm what some of you have suspected. This travel blog is indeed coming to an end. Will I continue to explore and share treasures around the globe, absolutely. This blog as you know it may be ending, but great things are coming my way. I can sense it. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the photos below of the Resort, a true gem nestled in the Appalachian mountains of Virginia.
Much Love, Mady
P.S. Do you know what movie was filmed here in the eighties? EEK! I’m so excited to be here and will definitely be taking a dance class. The other dancers don’t have to know our secret…
Chapter Two
Joe Santini
A guy’s trip for guys. A bachelor party without the chicks and debauchery. It’s what we all need. With Landon’s upcoming nuptials and my return to the States after working in the U.K. for the past year, we finally scheduled this guy’s trip. The main purpose, besides fun, is to golf. We promised each other in college that we’d travel and explore at least one new golf course every year, no matter what. No matter how crazy our lives get with careers, women, or someday children. No matter how what life throws at us, we carve out a little time for ourselves.
“Dude, check out the view!” Rob whistles low in appreciation as we pull into a temporary parking spot in front of the main lodge. “I’m definitely getting a canoe on that lake.”
“Archery, paddle boarding, mountain biking, hiking, horseback riding. This place has it all. Even yoga…” Drew’s voice fades as two ladies walk past us in tight yoga pants, giggling and eye-fucking our crowd. Drew and Rob stop to watch the women as they pass. Horny bastards. I hope they behave on this trip.
Inside the main lodge we marvel at the stone and millwork, and listen as Susie, the bubbly blonde desk clerk, checks us in, and runs over the list of amenities. Rob leans over the desk and flirts with Susie. I can’t hear what he says, but she’s blushing and running her hair behind her ear flirtatiously.
“What was that all about?” Landon asks Rob as we step outside.
“A man never kisses and tells.” Rob, bouncing on his toes like a hyperactive kid, punches Landon in the shoulder playfully. “But I did score us a couple of drink vouchers for the bar tonight. And Susie promised me a dance in the ballroom.”
“You’re something else.” I laugh, but truthfully wish I had half his energy, charm, or complete lack of inhibition.
After checking in to the cabin, Landon closes the bedroom door to call his fiancé. Drew, Rob and I head towards the lawn by the lake to toss a football around. It’s a perfectly mild temperature day, with clear skies and a bright sun shimmering off the lake. People are out and about all around us, enjoying the fresh mountain air. I missed this.
We live and work in New York City, but I spent the past year in the English countryside, and I didn’t realize until just now how much I missed green grass and the sound of the wind blowing through forests of trees.
