#the couple is buying a few acres in the mountains and moving there

[eqan]

i think we found a home for duncan and i’m like :( but also like :) but mostly somewhere like :|

[thebeckster]

May 2024 Casual Prompt Fill

Didn't think I was going to have anything for the prompts this month over at @love-bokumono-fics, nothing really struck a note of inspiration this month. But I was looking at the choices again tonight and suddenly had an idea. So I spent 30 minutes putting this down on paper.

It's an alternate prompt, using Livestock rather than the winning choice of Rarepairs. I've been itching over the last couple days to start up a new file on a farm sim just to have the fun experience of starting anew. I might have to boot up another FoMT file tomorrow, because writing this fic did not scratch that itch entirely lol

You can read the fic on AO3, but since it's pretty short, the whole thing is here too. Enjoy!

A New Friend

Pete had been waiting for this day all his life. Or it felt like it. Really just in the last couple weeks had the idle daydream had a chance of becoming reality.

Today he was going to buy a chicken!

Most people wouldn’t see such an occasion as something so monumental, but for a fledgling farmer it was a significant milestone. Ever since moving onto the farm, he’s scrimped and saved every spare penny into an old pickle jar which he’d labeled confidently as his “Livestock Fund.” And he had just enough saved up for a chicken and some feed.

He’d put blood, sweat, and tears into repairing the ramshackle chicken coop on the property, sealing up the walls to keep his future hens safe and snug, salvaging and repairing the nesting boxes and feed silo, he’s even built a fenced in little yard for them to scratch around in and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine on nice days.

Rick had been by yesterday to inspect Pete’s work on the coop, and it had passed his inspection. So as soon as the Poultry Shop opened, Pete was going to walk in and ask Lilia for their finest hen.

Pete looked around his farm, still rather raggedy looking, clearing out all of the weeds and debris after so many neglected years was a harder job than he anticipated, but he could see its potential so clearly in his mind’s eye. Acres of lush crops, wide pastures with a variety of livestock happily grazing, the contended cluck of chickens scratching for bugs to eat.

A farm just wasn’t a farm without animals.

Sure Pete had his dog, the happy little puppy he’d adopted when he moved in was going to grow to be a fine farm dog. But he needed more than a pet companion. If his farm was going to be successful, he needed livestock. Cows and sheep seemed pretty complicated for a brand new farmer, but a chicken seemed to be perfectly on his level. He’d read every book on chickens the library had. He was so ready for this!

The morning seemed to crawl by as Pete did his chores, watering the plots of crops he had planted, clearing out the few weeds that were stubbornly trying to grow back in the tilled soil, picking what forage he could from the mountain. Every penny mattered, and while he knew the chicken was going to help him make more money, he also knew he was taking on another mouth to feed.

Finally the time came for the store to open and Pete hurried, though he tried not to run, to the neighboring farm. Brimming with excitement, he strode through the doors, slammed his money on the counter and proclaimed, “Lillia, your finest hen please!”

The shopkeeper laughed kindly at the display and pulled a small cage out from behind the counter. “Popuri picked her out just for you. She said the two of you would be a perfect match.”

Pete beamed at the bird, she was beautiful. Snowy white feathers, little red face, bright black eyes, yellow beak and feet. She seemed mildly disgruntled, ruffling her feathers at the cage and glaring suspiciously at Pete. When he peered closer she shook herself and made a few low, disapproving clucks.

“She’s perfect! Has she got a name?”

“You have the honor of naming her. She’s just gotten old enough to begin laying, but it might take her a few days to settle in. Once she’s happy and comfortable in her new home she should be a wonderful addition to your farm. Her mother is a prodigious layer, so you’ll have plenty of eggs to sell and eat soon enough.”

“Then I’ll have to think up a good name for her. Something that suits her.”

Still smiling, Lillia began counting Pete’s money. “Take your time and let her personality come out. She’s just been called ‘hey chicken’ while she’s been with us. We usually wait til they’re grown before naming them. Saves us from having a chicken named Sweetpea with the personality of an angry demon. Now you’ll be wanting some feed too? I’ll send Rick over with it later.” She closed the till and wrote out a receipt for Pete and a small pouch of feed. “Now you take your new friend home and get her settled, having a snack will help her feel at home in the new coop. And don’t forget, if you have any questions or concerns, we’re here for all your poultry needs!”

With a cheerful wave, she sent Pete out the door. As he walked, he held the cage close to his chest, looking down at his new chicken more than the road in front of him. She continued clucking softly, as if commenting on the scenery or conversing with Pete all the way back.

“You are chatty,” Pete laughed as he stepped onto his farm. “Maybe Cathy? Hmm… no. Well, we’re here. Take a look around at your new home.” And he held the cage out for the chicken to see. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I have plans for it, and you’re going to help me make them come true.”

He carried the chicken to the coop and opened the cage for her. He waited excitedly for her to step out on her own and begin looking around. She was slow and hesitant at first, taking cautious steps around the coop, she flinched every time Pete moved, fluttering away with an alarmed squawk, but she became braver when he tipped some of the feed out for her to eat. When she ate what he’d given her she looked at him expectantly. With a laugh, he tipped some of the feed into his palm.

The hen didn’t waste much time approaching him and inspecting the food in his hand, and when she decided he was safe she happily ate.

When she had finished her snack, Pete opened the door which led to the fenced in enclosure he’d built. She was quite happy to have the sunshine and fresh air available to her and moved quickly into the yard. Pete watched her inspect every corner and scratch around, and when he was content that she couldn’t break through the fence, he let her be and returned to his work.

He worked in the fields closest to the coop, so he could keep half an eye on his new chicken while he cleared out more debris. His dog came over to investigate the new addition and Pete had a very serious talk with the puppy that the chicken here was a friend, not food. It was his dog’s job to protect their friends, not scare them. And the puppy seemed to understand, or perhaps he just had gained a healthy respect for the chicken already. She had squawked and pecked at his nose when he came sniffing around her fence.

All the while Pete worked the chicken chattered. Maybe she just missed the noise of the other chickens at the poultry farm, or maybe she just liked hearing herself talk. Pete entertained himself with the idea that the chicken was commenting on his work, complimenting his technique with the scythe, criticizing him for not giving her the worms he uncovered when he moved a rock. Once, he was certain she actually laughed at him when he’d misjudged how robust an old stump was and ended up getting his axe stuck in the wood. He’d managed to get it unstuck with no small amount of effort, and all the while he struggled the chicken clucked and clucked.

“You never stop talking, do you?” Pete panted, sitting on the ground next to the fence and wiping sweat from his brow. “Got a lot to say. Like my very own peanut gallery. Hey!” He perked up. “That’s a good name for you, Peanut. What do you think? Cluck once for yes and twice for no.”

The chicken stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed in thought. Then she jerked her head in what almost looked like a nod and clucked once.

“Peanut is it.” He reached through the fence and brushed a couple fingers over Peanut’s feathered head. “Welcome to the farm, Peanut old girl. You and me are going to be good friends. I can tell.”

Peanut pecked at his fingers in annoyance, and stalked out of reach ruffling her feathers.

Pete chuckled and flopped back into the grass. “Start of a beautiful friendship.”

[jodilinbio]

In late August, Dotty, a couple of people from DSS, and I all piled into a van together. Dotty told me we were going to get carpet for my so-called new rooms in the new house we were supposed to move into. Being the naïve, gullible little idiot I sometimes was back then, I believed her, even though we were on the road for nearly an hour. Why couldn’t I have put two and two together and realized that we not only shouldn’t have had to travel that far for carpet, but also, why would a couple of strangers accompany us on the endeavor? Maybe I just didn’t want to accept that I was being bullshitted. No one wants to believe they’re about to be tricked into being placed in the worst place yet—and for two whole years! It was absolutely horrible. If I thought Brattleboro was bad, I hadn’t seen anything yet! Valleyhead, a residential school for girls run like a reformatory, was truly hell on earth. Nestled in the heart of the Berkshire Mountains in Lenox, Massachusetts, Valleyhead was anything but fun.

Valleyhead was situated on a series of hills with forests around them. At the very top of the twelve-acre property lived the owners, an older couple. Their sons and daughter worked there. Off to one side of their house was a small field where games like soccer and baseball were played. Down below in a large clearing was the main house, a huge mansion that used to be an inn. There were sixteen rooms upstairs, most of which had two sets of bunk beds and housed four girls.

Fortunately, I got along with my roommates, and although one girl could get a little scary at times, I never had any major problems with the other students—nothing more than you would expect from sixty teenage girls all living in the same house.

The top floor of the main house was where the special education and accounting classes were held. The Carriage House, about three hundred feet from the main house, was where the rest of the standard subjects were taught. It was a small, one-story building with only about six rooms.

Between the Carriage House and the main house was a smaller, newer two-story building. The troublemakers were downstairs, the slow kids were on the upper right side, and those doing exceptionally well were on the upper left side. I would eventually earn a spot (and a little more privacy and independence) on the upper left side once I realized that the only way to survive the place was to basically kiss ass.

Down another steep hill, just below the main house, was a pool.

At Valleyhead, you lived on a point system. There were four different levels, and the most you could get for an allowance was the amount of your level. Most people were on level two. In the end, I’d be one of the very few to make it up to level four. You weren’t allowed money from family or friends, and after you returned from a visit with your family—if you had one to go to—you were only allowed to return with one measly dollar. Even back in 1982, a buck or two wasn’t much!

“I’m not going to support your smoking habits,” the owner said one day.

“But why couldn’t our families be allowed to?” I asked.

“Because that wouldn’t be fair,” she’d say.

But life isn’t fair, and nothing’s the same for everyone in the real world. As far as I was concerned, not allowing our families to give us whatever money they wanted was just another means of power and control.

I often wished I didn’t smoke, but I did at the time, and I wasn’t nearly ready to quit. The most you could get back then with a couple of bucks was four packs of smokes for the week if you could find a buy-one-get-one-free deal.

It seemed that all I had to enjoy at Valleyhead were my stereo and guitar. I even composed a song with another student there that turned out beautifully. I still remember it to this day and have a copy of the lyrics.

I ended up closest to Denise, whom I often roomed with, along with Ethel and a Black girl named Stacy.

We were a strange bunch in the eyes of Donna, the school’s worst nightmare in the staff department (especially if she disliked you) and the only one we called by her first name.

At Valleyhead, it was lights out at 11:00 PM, and no one was to get out of bed unless it was to go to the bathroom. One night, we were pretty restless and unable to sleep, so all of us, except for Ethel, decided to do our own thing. Stacy was pacing around, mumbling about who knows what; Denise was fishing for something in the closet; and I was about to sit down on the floor and listen to music. Only, in the dark, I misjudged where my stereo was and ended up in the middle of the room.

The door suddenly flung open, and the lights came on.

We froze.

Donna glanced from Stacy to me and then to Denise. “What are you doing in the closet?!” she screamed at Denise. Then she looked at me. “And what are you doing in the middle of the floor?!” Finally, she looked at Stacy. “Come on, you bunch of weirdos! Downstairs! Now!!!”

We scurried out of the room.

“Somebody’s feet stink like shit!” Donna added on the way down.

Once downstairs, Donna had us all sit in separate rooms for a while. I guess she thought that sitting there and staring at the walls would make us bored enough to sleep.

“Weirdos!” we heard her tell another staff member. “One in the closet, one pacing the room, one in the middle of the floor…”

With the exception of that night, I had no problems sleeping at Valleyhead. That was easy to do when you were a walking pharmacy.

When I first arrived at Valleyhead, I had no problems with Donna. She seemed to like me well enough and often complimented my singing and guitar playing, even if I don’t remember myself being very good back in those young and untrained days. Jumping out of a second-story window would change all that. But even before that, not even cutting myself during a visit home changed much. This happened during the winter, so I was wearing long sleeves at the time and was able to keep it hidden. Or so I thought.

Once I returned to Valleyhead by bus after the visit, I called to assure my mother I’d made it back in one piece. Without thinking, I raised my arm at some point and ran it through my long hair. My sleeve slipped up and another student saw the cuts and asked if I had done it upstairs.

“No, I did it at home,” I told her.

“Did what at home?” Mom asked.

Although I told her it was nothing, she called back, dialing the office number instead of the student pay phone, and asked that I be checked. I don’t remember what sort of action or punishment occurred because of it, but I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant.

[whitepolaris]

A Utopia Spelled Z, Z, Y, Z, X

The enduring legacy of Zzyzx Mineral Springs and Health Resort is a testimony to the strange vision of a self-proclaimed evangelist and health guru who moved out to the end of nowhere in the Mojave Desert and proceeded to make a utopia in his image-part high-minded and religion and part hucksterism. Ingenuity and a lot of fast talk burnished up this spot on the shore of a dry salt flat, and for a while made the post office in nearby Baker one of the busiest in southern California. 

Millions of travelers on Interstate 15 have passed the exit for Zzyzx a few miles west of the Death Valley highway, possibly noting the unusual name, but most were too busy getting to one Sin City or another to bother with it. Four and a half miles south over a gravel road lie the ruins of the dream of one of the desert’s most legendary characters. 

Curtis Howe Springer had made a name for himself as a radio evangelist in the 1930s, beginning at radio station KDKA in Pittsburgh. Like many of his ilk, he eventually pointed his crusade toward the West Coast, where spiritual fads and miracle cures were starting to find a willing and gullible audience. Like his predecessor, Sister Aimee Semple McPherson, Springer down new roots in fertile soil and set about expending his vision. 

Springer was no amateur when it came to managing vacations retreats. He had founded and/or managed six resorts in other states before he and his fiancée, Helen, with their (gasp) daughter in tow arrived in what he called “a mosquito swamp” in the eastern Mojave Desert in 1944. He filed a mining claim on twelve thousand acres and began building his base suite in Los Angeles, where he made tapes for his national broadcasts and conducted other business. He would then board his crusading bus and round up derelicts on skid row, offering them meals and shelter in exchange for construction work, with his new desert outfit. Some of them left immediately when the no-alcohol policy was revealed, but many stayed, some for years and a few for the rest of their lives. 

When Springer was done, the new town at the foot of Soda Mountain boasted a chapel, a cross-shaped pool with soaking tubs, an artificial lake, a two-story sixty-room hotel, and even an airstrip, which he named Zyport. With some assuredly highfalutin wrangling, Springer managed to buy an old seagoing freighter and dismantled it for parts to add to his growing compound. A launch or lifeboat from the project still sits at the site, high and dry and rusting, but so far preserved in the desiccating desert sun. The main drag was dubbed the Boulevard of Dreams. 

Springer then went into high gear, promoting his new retreat on his international radio sermons. People calling his Los Angeles heard a recorded voice beckoning them with, “Hello, this is your old friend Curtis Springer coming to you from Zzyzx Mineral Springs out in the heart of the great Mojave Desert.” He touted the place as the last word in health and vitality. Free bus rides left every Wednesday from the Olympic Hotel on Figueroa Street in L.A., ferrying the hopeful out in droves. 

A day at Zzyzx included a hearty breakfast of goat milk and Springer’s popular Antedeluvian Tea, said to prolong life. Though he tried to be relatively self-sufficient, the only livestock that could be sustained on the alkali flats except for goats were rabbits, which formed the bulk of the meat served. All of the veggies were trucked in a couple of times each week. Guests stayed for a reasonable sum, but were heavily encouraged to make fee-will “donations” to the Springer Foundation. They were subjected to rousing sermons delivered twice daily by Springer over a booming PA system. 

The evangelist’s miraculous cures were big items at the retreat, including the aforementioned tea and a $25 do-it-yourself hemorrhoid cure kit. One of the most successful remedies was Mo-Hair-a baldness cure. The folksy Springer instructed the soon-to-be-hairy to rub the concoction vigorously into the scalp, then to double over and hold their breath for as long as possible. The resulting flush to the cheeks and scalp was proof, he said, of the virtues of his discovery. One man who took Springer to court over his continued baldness after extensive use of Mo-Hair watched in astonishment as the preacher reached into his pocket and peeled off the $2,500 fine “as casually as if he was taking care of a $2 traffic ticket.”

Well after Zzyzx was established, Springer began to offer lots for sale on the adjacent property-which he had neglected to buy-so that the well-to-do faithful might take twenty-four-hour advantage of his healing waters and lifestyle. This act, along with occasional complaints to the authorities about this “cures,” eventually focused government attention on his operation. In 1974, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) informed Springer that he could not sell land that he didn’t own, and he was evicted from the property, along with a few hundred followers. Curtis Howe Springer died in Las Vegas in 1986 at the age of ninety, after he had served several jail terms for sundry felonies. 

Today California State University’s Desert Studies Center occupies the site. Zzyzx was finally entered as an official geographic name in 1984, proving that Curtis Springer did indeed have the last word. To get to the place he dreamed up, take the Zzyzx Road exit-eight miles west of Baker on Interstate 15, then south on a paved road, which soon ends at a graded gravel road. 

[thatdisasterauthor]

You know, I talk about my family Cabin on here a lot, but I don't think I've ever actually explained what the Cabin IS. So. Story time. We haven't had a story time in awhile.

This story starts sometime in the early 1900s with my great grandfather losing half his right hand in some sort of logging/mill/mining accident. The stories vary depending who in the family you ask. (He also ran mule trains over the mountains at some point.) But however he lost it, he ended up in the local hotel (which was a facade building, I believe, so just a glorified tent) because there was no hospital. There was also no doctor. Somehow somebody tracked down a nurse somewhere and brought her to the hotel.

BUT!

It was improper for this young woman to be alone with a man, even if she was trying to make him not be dead. The scandal!!!

So that nurse became my great-grandmother. No idea what their actual wedding was like, but I imagine it was rather interesting given they'd only known one another two days and he was still half delirious because of major injury.

Now we'll skip forward a bit. They decide to buy a few acres over in Middle Park/Grand County, and they're gonna start a little ranch up there. They pay some dude for the land and pack up the wagon (yes, wagon, the Colorado mountains didn't get the message that the century had changed until about 30-40 years after it happened). But then they arrived and, on no, they've been lied to! No land is waiting! They managed to get themselves a few acres anyway and went about starting their ranch and having 10+ children, all but one of whom lived to adulthood which was damn impressive. (Also worthwhile to note here that, until sometime in the 1950s, there was only one doctor in the whole county and she was a grumpy old lady who didn't believe in pain meds.)

Their youngest daughter died at 4, I believe from whooping cough, and less than a week later my great-grandfather came in from the fields, said he wasn't feeling well, laid down, and died. So now here's my great-grandmother in the middle of the Rockies in the 1920s with 10+ kids, some of them still under 10. And let me tell you, she kicked ass.

But what does all of this have to do with the Cabin you say? Well, see, those 10+ kids spread out all over the county, buying their own lands and marrying into the other families up there. Then along came the state saying "hey, we want to build a reservoir where your house is, get out." To which my great-grandmother said "fuck you." She said fuck you enough times that the family eventually ended up with 1000+ acres in exchange for moving off their little plot. They literally just picked up the house and moved it about 1/4 mile up the hill, and that original house is still there today.

Now, ever since then the family has sold off some of the land, but we still have a lot of it. The family cattle ranch is still operational as well, now run by one of my second cousins. A couple of my great-uncles also built houses on various parts of the property over the years, which is how we get to the Cabin.

My grandfather, the youngest living child of his parents, eventually moved down to Denver. But he still loved his home in the mountains, and wanted his 10 kids to experience that as well. One of the houses on the family property had fallen into disuse, to the point cows were living in it and having a grand old time. My grandfather decided to fix it up so that he and his kids could have a place to go up there. This was the first Cabin, referred to as Camp Grub. Until his sister-in-law, who technically owned the house with his brother, realized he'd fixed the house and went "oh, how nice of you! Get out, it's mine now."

Thus, the second Cabin came into being. Not wanting to give up on having a place up there, my grandfather found another cabin a few miles away and rented that. It was called the White House because it was. Well. White. This is where my dad and his 9 siblings grew up going all the time. Lots of fond memories of hunting, fishing, and general shenanigans. But then, early in the 90s, the owner of the property didn't renew my grandparent's lease.

This time, my grandparents wanted to get something they OWNED and couldn't be taken from them. They settled on the Cabin, which was again several miles away in a different spot. This third Cabin is the one we still have today, the little A-frame. It was named Moose Camp.

None of his children wanted him to buy an A-frame. Because A-frames are terrible. It could only sleep six people and, at this point, there were a good 20+ family members that wanted to use it. But my grandfather did not care. So we ended up with an A-frame that sits on 60ish acres and, at the time, was on the only tiny little flat spot of the entire 60ish acres.

My dad and his siblings, mostly in their 20s and early 30s at the time, took one look at this and decided nope. Must fix. So they promptly set about hand-digging a basement to add four more bedrooms, and they dug out a huge chunk of the hillside to create a flat spot for the garage and parking. Half the garage is a garage, the other half (separated by a wall) is an outdoor livingroom/dining area. There has been some other odds and ends projects done over the years such as cutting a couple RV parking spots out of the woods, but nothing else major.

Now, this is the Cabin I grew up in and the one we still have. I have spent nearly 30 years of my life going up there almost every weekend. After my parents divorced they started moving at least once a year each so from a very young age I never had a stable home except for the Cabin.

The whole family used it, and you never knew who was coming. It could be just a few people, or twenty. Sometimes people brought friends. Sometimes distant cousins showed up. My cousins and I had the run of the place, and the whole 60 acres. It was a grand old time, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. We all learned to shoot, to hunt, to be safe in the woods. We heard all the family stories, and visited the family that still lived up there. There were always at least two fridges full of food and it was just sort of a free for all of who ate what, didn't really matter who brought it. There were campfires out behind the garage. There were lazy days in the gazebo my dad and his siblings built for their mother from scrap wood.

After my grandparents died, the Cabin was put into a trust so that now all of their kids have an equal share in it. (Except for one, who we do not speak of, because she is not welcome in the family anymore, and another who has died.) Over the years, most of the family has used it less and less. My dad and I are now the ones who use it the most, and do most of the upkeep. I've got an uncle and an aunt (my dad's brother and sister) who come up a fair amount as well, but the uncle is getting a bit too old to really help out with the heavy projects and the aunt...well...she tries.

Other family does still come up, though. Some a handful of times every year, others only once a year or so. They usually find something to complain about (specifically one aunt who is a very my-way-or-the-highway person) or some project they think needs done, and they'll moan about it not getting taken care of, but never do anything about it. They leave and my dad and I continue to tinker with the plumbing, cut firewood for everyone else to use, clean out the fridges, restain the siding, fix the basement when it floods in the spring, plow the road, and everything else that needs done, never really bringing up the fact that we're the only real caretakers left of the place. If the rest of the family does manage to decide to do some sort of project my dad and I usually end up putting it back in order once they're gone, and they never notice.

We still visit the surrounding family, we still hunt, we still explore. But it's quieter now. It'll always be home, though. The only real home I've ever had. According to the rules of the trust, the property has to stay in the Wood family unless every member of the trust agrees to sell, which they'll never do. So it'll be there, in some form, for quite awhile.

(Putting the words Long Post in here so the tumblr filters can hide it even if other people don't tag it as such.)

[sadachmesarthim]

C-cowboy starker? What if cowboy starker, I mean? I think... cattle driver Tony maybe, and ranch hand Peter,,, always wanted to write about this but I’m shy 🙈

mid-writing edit: i’ve spent half an hour on this and my computer is literally lagging with how fast i’m typing. i really hope this makes sense because holy shit, i love cowboy starker. anon, i need you in my inbox every single fucking time you have an idea about starker. idk if it’s in passing, idk if it’s super fleeting and doesn’t make sense. anon, you are my muse

ohhhhh my god anon i ,, love this idea so much i’ve actually thought about this a bit ngl you don’t even know how much i like western aus

okay so hear me out:

i’m thinking brokeback type shit, right?? but just a tad different like be honest who doesn’t like the whole bbm trope yfm and twink jake gyllenhaal is my baby okay okay okay sorry babe i’m still crossfaded as fuck and i could talk about that movie for days anyway back on topic

- no okay but think of it - tony, he’s recently divorced and morgan, his baby girl, his one and only daughter, she’s 19 now and seeing this absolute gentleman of a roughneck. his house is empty, he isn’t paying child support anymore, he doesn’t have this bitchy redhead on his ass 24/7 about getting a job in the city

- because tony hates the city, hates that his father dragged them away from the mountains and prairies he remembers from his childhood. hates what the city gave him - black eyes and mean names and disappointed parents

- so tony high tailed it the fuck out of dodge the second he turned 18. abandoned school, abandoned his family, took his beat up ford out to montana and disappeared. married this nice girl, virginia pepper, worked construction to support her while she went to school. had a pretty baby girl a year or two later. moved both of his girls out to a ranch he bought with their tiny savings, got a couple’a cows and a horse and made friends with a neighbor with a bull

- but eventually, pep had bigger dreams. they were both young when they got married, didn’t look past the immediate sexual compatibility to see that their futures were well and truly not going to go well together

- so she left the ranch, took morgan with, and made her way to the city. became some big lawyer or doctor or businesswoman or something, tony didn’t know. didn’t really care because the child support invoices still came every single month like clockwork. 

- so instead of focusing on his distant daughter and his ex wife that wouldn’t listen to him and his family that just... didn’t understand, he threw himself into the wildlife around him

- became closer with those neighbors that had a bull. eventually came to an agreement and let him free with his girls

- built a very solid herd of highlanders in a handful of years, slowly attracting the attention of more and more owners wanting to trade, to buy, to sell 

- and maybe one year, he realizes, he’s in a bit too far over his head with this. he has 100 of these four legged fuckers, he has 50 acres to take care of by himself, he has horses to feed and shoe and groom. he has fields to plant and water and harvest if he wants to feed any of the animals mentioned above

- so he reaches out to his neighbors, puts feelers out and sees if anyone knows a farmhand who’d want to help him out, maybe live on the property full time for a bit. and when he gets a call back his heart breaks a bit, because oh my god he wasn’t prepared for this

- a kid, can’t have been more than morgan’s age, has responded to him, and he’s good with his hands mr. stark, and he knows his way around animals mr. stark, been takin’ care of ‘em for his whole life now mr. stark 

- and this kid is ,, he sounds so innocent and sweet there’s no way tony’s gonna say yes before he actually meets him 

- so tony gives the kid his address, tells him to come out and give things a once over before he makes his mind up

- so peter does. he comes out, introduces himself, looks around the property with tony. and tonys heart hurts, because this kid, this kid that’s standing right in front of him, is almost skin and bones and looks like he’s about to crumble into dust and blow away in his hands

- he brings peter into the house, brings him coffee, offers him food. even after peter politely declines he brings over some bread to share, maybe a slice of pie?? maybe tony can cook and bake. he has a sweet tooth after all, and he’s been on his own for the better part of two decades. 

- and he really gets to know peter. they sit, they talk, until the sun dips down and the open mountain chill takes over them

- and peter tells him that he’s been on his own for a couple of years, that his parents died when he was young and that his aunt and uncle took him in on their ranch. that he grew up around animals, working, helping out

- but when they died the property was repossessed by the bank and peter’d all but ran with ben’s keys and the clothes on his back. he’s been on the road ever since, going from missouri to texas to wyoming to montana, all in search of work, never staying in one place longer than a few months. 

- he doesn’t tell tony that he’s secretly so, so tired of life on the road. doesn’t say how elated he was when he heard someone was looking for a fairly long-term live in farm hand. because that’s something he knew, something he was good at. 

- he also doesn’t tell tony that his heart skipped several beats in a row the second peter laid eyes on him, and that he really wants to work for the gorgeous man in front of him

- it’s finally dark, his coffee cup is long empty and abandoned and peter’s just spilled nearly every single deep dark secret he’s ever had. tony’s closing the windows, and peter makes for the door. he’s taken up enough of this beautiful kind man’s time, he should leave before he stays even further past his welcome

- but tony’s stopping him, blocking him from the door, lightly grabbing his wrist and turning peter to face him fully

- and he’s asking begging pleading  telling peter he should stay, that the spare room upstairs is warm and not going to be used anytime soon. that he still needs a farmhand and, as he sees it, peter’s already here

- secretly, tony can’t stand to see him leave

- he couldn’t handle letting his man this... kid, really, leave. not when tony could provide for him. not when he could feed him until his edges soften and his cheeks round out and his tummy gets squishy. not when he could work him into a sweat outside, watch that paperwhite skin turn a rich tan under the summer sun

- not even when he realizes the sudden care for the orphan in front of him is slowly becoming less familial, less platonic, and more... instinctual. base. greedy. 

- because who better to make sure this kid is looked after than tony? tony, who has work-worn hands and time-softened eyes and cooking skills any bachelor would die for

- it’s honestly not even that shocking to him when peter says yes

- not when he takes his hand off the doorknob and immediately turns, immediately breathes out a “yes, yes of course mr. stark, thank you so much mr. stark, i’ll do whatever you need me to, you’re incredible mr. stark”

- and it all immediately goes to tony’s dick head because fuck, that was not the intended reaction but it was absolutely welcome, what the fuck

- so tony takes him upstairs, gets peter settled in the guest bedroom right across from his own

- and when he goes to bed that night he absolutely does not touch himself while thinking about the barely 20something thats maybe 10 feet away. doesn’t think about what peter said earlier, with tony’s hand wrapped around his wrist

- absolutely doesn’t cum with peter’s name on his lips, biting down on his knuckles so peter doesn’t hear

- and peter absolutely doesn’t cum with three fingers in his ass, tears streaming down his face, listening to the creaking mattress springs and heavy breathing from across the hall. of course he doesn’t

- and of course they don’t get along well. of course not. of course they don’t work together like they’re telepathically connected, not even needing to speak to know what the other is thinking. it’s like peter can read his mind, knowing exactly what needs done when

- but it’s not just tony. peter can tell before anyone else when the farrier needs to be called. when one of the girls is pregnant, even before she starts showing. knows when one of the cattle dogs has a hurt paw without even seeing him. can tell when it’s going to rain, so he knows whether or not it’ll be a good day to cut the alfalfa fields

- it’s a little freaky to be honest but tony doesn’t hate it. it’s really useful with everything on the farm, and it’s... it’s nice. having someone that can so effortlessly understand him. 

- it’s also like peters... totally unaware of it. like he doesn’t even know he knows things he shouldnt know. which blows tony’s mind even more. 

- it kinda turns him on, and he finds himself with his hand around his cock wondering if peter knows he’s getting off thinking about him. like, more than once. maybe even more than once a week. definitely more than once a week. 

- and maybe peters kind of catching on, a little. that maybe his feelings toward his employer/landlord/new friend are shared

- it also doesn’t help that he gets uncontrollably aroused every time tony goes to bed. like. every... single... time...

- peter always knew he was.. attentive. but he didn’t know it would manifest as literally feeling tony’s arousal through the fucking walls

- and it doesn’t help that peter’s filling out. he’s getting darker as the months get warmer, he’s getting significantly more meat on his bones now that he’s eating more and working more

- and it really doesn’t help that tony is getting eyefuls of the half naked ranch hand almost 24/7. it’s really not his fault that peter works better without a shirt on

- and maybe it comes to a head one day. maybe they’re picking up alfalfa bales from one of the fields and they stop to take a break and tony just ,, can’t handle sweaty, tan, barely-a-twink-anymore peter.

- and peter can feel it, with his ,, unique senses, that tony’s watching him. like, a lot. like, way more than normal even 

- so he decides to play it up a bit. he takes his shirt off, he throws his gloves in the bed of the truck and balls the tee in his hands, wiping his face off with it and sighing deeply

- and he knows tony saw that because he could fucking hear tony’s breathing change and he smirks a little bit, because that’s enough confirmation for him to know for sure

- so he looks up, and he meets tony’s eyes, and they’re wild and feral and tony looks like one of the wolves that tried to take out one of their cows last winter - hungry and ready to devour what was in front of him

- and peter just looks at him, a little incredulous, and finally speaks up: ‘you gonna get over here ‘n kiss me, or what?’ - and tony fucking breaks

- he turns the truck off and slams the door when he gets out, grabbing peter by the neck and fucking dragging him against tony’s clothed body

- “do you know what you’ve been doing this whole time?” 

- of course peter does, tony, you fucking moron. he knows and he’s been trying to get you to rip him to shreds, dumbass. you’re just oblivious

- but tony still can’t help but see the tiny young man that walked up on his doorstep those years ago, can’t help but want to protect him and keep him safe and warm and fed 

- so of course tony wanted to go slow, and wanted to be gentle with peter

- but pete was having fucking none of that, because oh my god tony i’m not 19 anymore please just fuck me already and been wanting you for way too long and please tony just--  and he grabs tony’s hand and makes him squeeze even harder

- and it’s hot, and it’s messy, and it’s not even really sex, just them rutting and grabbing and jerking each other off up against the door of tony’s truck, belt buckles undone and jeans just barely tugged down

- and tony’s basking in it, watching peter’s eyes screw shut and his pretty plush lips open and the little ‘aah, nngh fuck, tony’s that push their way from his throat

- and he knows, the second they’re done here, they’re abandoning their work for the day and he’s taking peter back to the house and he’s going to show him what this is like for real, what it means to be touched with intention and love and emotion behind it - not just a quick handjob standing in the hay field

- and he does. he worships peter’s body when they get back to the house

- he kisses every single part of him, nips at the tiny bit of excess fat on his stomach and thighs and hips, relishing in the fact that peter is his, his to take care of, his to keep safe and healthy and happy

- and eventually, the guest room opens up again. peter’s stuff slowly moves into tony’s room. he stops getting paid, but that’s okay

- because why would you get paid to work on your own farm? 

[papermoonloveslucy]

THE WILLS

March 19, 1950

“The Wills” (aka “The Coopers Make Their Wills”) is episode #80 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on March 19, 1950.

Synopsis ~  After Liz and George make out their wills, Liz is convinced that George intends to do away with her. Liz is startled to find a receipt for some arsenic and rope in his pocket, but is shocked when George suggests a trip to the country - with a one-way ticket for Liz!

Starting with this episode, “My Favorite Husband” moved from Thursday nights, to Sunday nights. 

Note: This program was used as a basis for a scene in “I Love Lucy” episode “Lucy Thinks Ricky Is Trying to Murder Her” (ILL S1;E4) filmed on September 8, 1951 and first aired November 5, 1951. For various reasons, it was the first episode of the series filmed, but the fourth aired. 

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benadaret was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) had worked with Lucille Ball on “The Wonder Show” on radio in 1938. One of the front-runners to play Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy,” he eventually played Alvin Littlefield, owner of the Tropicana, during two episodes in 1952. After playing a Judge in an episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in 1958, he would re-team with Lucy for all of her subsequent series’: as Theodore J. Mooney in ”The Lucy Show”; as Harrison Otis Carter in “Here’s Lucy”; and as Curtis McGibbon on “Life with Lucy.” Gordon died in 1995 at the age of 89.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) does not appear in this episode. 

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz (above right), a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Herb Vigran (Doctor Stephens) made several appearances on “My Favorite Husband.” He would later play Jule, Ricky’s music union agent on two episodes of “I Love Lucy”. He would go on to play Joe (and Mrs. Trumbull’s nephew), the washing machine repairman in “Never Do Business With Friends” (S2;E31) and Al Sparks, the publicity man who hires Lucy and Ethel to play Martians on top of the Empire State Building in “Lucy is Envious” (S3;E23). Of his 350 screen roles, he also made six appearances on “The Lucy Show.”

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers tonight, it's just after dinner, and we find Liz and George settling down to a normal evening's conversation.”  

George has something he needs to talk to Liz about. Liz immediately thinks it is something to do with her household budget, but George wants to talk about their wills. The subject immediately upsets Liz. The idea of living without George sends Liz into gales of tears. George wants her to read it, and threatens to leave everything to his mother if she doesn’t. Liz snatches the will from him. George then tells her that he has had her will drawn up as well. 

LIZ: “What for? You're the one who's going! What are you trying to do, push me ahead of you in line?”

George reminds her of the three acres of Florida beachfront property that her father left her, which she calls ‘Sunken Acres.’  George always assumed it was oil land. 

LIZ: “If there's any oil down there, it's still in a whale. Oh! I see it all now, George! You want me to sign a will leaving everything to you, and then you'll bump me off! You want to get your dirty fishhooks on my oil holdings!

Liz agrees to read and sign the will as the scene fades out.  At the bank the next day, Mr. Atterbury notices that George seems tired. George admits he was up late talking to Liz about their wills. Mr. Atterbury proposes that the Coopers join him and Iris at their mountain lodge for the weekend, flying up, and then leaving the girls there for the week while they fly back for work. The following weekend they will drive up to get them in Mr. Atterbury’s new car. 

Mr. Atterbury has already bought the airline tickets and asks George to go to the hardware store for a few items. 

MR. ATTERBERRY: “I need poison for those horrible little gophers up there. And some rope for a clothesline, and a couple of sacks of cement. Iris wants a patio so she can sunbathe. Come to think of it, that ought to keep the gophers away.” GEORGE:  “Let me make a list on the back of this envelope. Now, poison, ropes, cement...” MR. ATTERBERRY: “Oh, and I need an axe, too.”

Mr. Atterbury tells George that they should tell their wives that they are just going for a weekend, so that they don’t rush out to buy a week’s worth of new clothes.

At the Cooper home, Katie the Maid is preparing dinner. George comes home and tells Liz the good news that they’ll be going to the Atterbury’s lodge this weekend, and he’s got the airline tickets in his pocket. As George goes upstairs to prepare for dinner, Katie reminds Liz that she has a beauty shop appointment on Saturday. Liz wonders what time the plane leaves, and fishes in George’s jacket pocket to check the tickets. She notices that one tickets is round trip, and the other is one way!   Liz immediately assumes one of them isn’t coming back, and reminds Katie that George asked her to sign her will!  She notices some writing on the envelope that looks like a shopping list.

LIZ: “Poison! He's going to take me out in the woods and poison me! Look, at the next item - rope. If the poison doesn't work, he's gonna hang me! Cement. If I live through the poison and the rope, he's gonna put my feet in cement and dump me in the lake! Look what's next - axe! If I able to hold my breath, he's gonna swim in the water and chop me to pieces!” KATIE: “Oh, how can Mr. Cooper do such a thing?” LIZ: “With that list of weapons, how can he miss?“

Liz realizes why George might want to do away with her - they’ve finally struck oil on Sunken Acres!

End of Part One

Announcer Bob LeMond reads a live Jell-O commercial. 

ANNOUNCCER: “As we return to the Coopers, we find Liz in a state of nervous apprehension. After years of having George under her thumb, she's suddenly discovered that he's bout to put the finger on her. Or at least she thinks he is. But right now it's after dinner, and Liz, the intended victim, is in the living room, reading. While George, the killer, is slowly stalking up behind her.”

George kisses Liz on the back of the neck. She screams!  Liz nervously says that she’d rather not go to the Atterbury’s lodge this weekend. 

GEORGE: “What? Why, Liz, you love the lodge. You always say that's your idea of living.”  LIZ: “Well, I want to keep it that way.”

George says that he has a big surprise for her up there. Liz suggests he take his mother and give HER the big surprise!

GEORGE: “Now, don't be silly! You just wait: When you wake up Monday morning, you'll be very pleasantly surprised.”  LIZ: “If I wake up Monday morning, I'll be surprised.”

Liz wonders if George is having money problems. She asks him why he made her sign her will last night. George says that if it bothers her so much, he’ll tear it up - as soon as they get back from the lodge. 

Liz runs to her bedroom and locks the door! George telephones Dr. Stephens (Herb Vigran) to report that Liz is acting peculiar. 

DOCTOR: “Peculiar for Liz, or peculiar for normal people?”

RICKY RICARDO: “Lucy is acting crazy!” FRED MERTZ: “Crazy for Lucy or crazy for ordinary people?”

This joke was adapted for Lucy Ricardo in “Lucy Thinks Ricky Is Trying To Do Murder Her” with Fred Mertz taking the Doctor’s line. 

Doctor Stephens cannot make a house call because he’s got an appointment with his psychoanalyst, but he tells George to give Liz a sedative until he can get there. 

Liz comes in for a glass of water. George tells her that he’s had Katie prepare them some hot milk. In the kitchen, Katie tells Liz that she saw Mr. Cooper pour a powder into one of the glasses. Liz says she’ll just switch the glasses so that George drinks the one with the powder in it. 

In the living room she distracts George just long enough to switch the glasses. But when George lifts his glass to drink, Liz dashes it from his hand. She says she couldn’t do it to him, even if he could do it to her. 

LIZ: “You put something in my glass, didn't you, George? Well, I fooled you! I switched glasses!”  GEORGE: “I had a hunch that's why Katie called you, so I switched them again while you were out of the room.”

Liz starts to gag as if she’s been poisoned! Liz falls to the floor, convinced she is going to die, trying to make peace with George in her final moments.

LIZ: “If I had my life to live over again, I want you to know I'd do better. I could stay within the budget, if I tried. (coughs) And I'd never buy clothes I need. (coughs) I'd throw away my charge-a-plate.”

The doorbell rings. It is Mr. Atterbury, come to make the ‘final arrangements.’  Liz tells George that she saw the one way ticket, and the shopping list for poison and the axe.  The men dissolve in laughter.  Mr. Atterbury explains that those were supplies for the lodge.  Liz is angry that she’s been tricked, and refuses to keep the promises she made in her ‘final moments’.

LIZ: "I didn't know what I was saying! I was under the influence of warm milk!”

End of Episode

In the live Jell-O commercial, Lucille Ball plays a Mexican spy, and Bob LeMond is interviewing her for a job. 

In the bedtime tag, it is five in the morning and George is reading a suspenseful magazine story. Liz begs him to turn out the light, but then can’t sleep until he knows the outcome of the story. Liz grabs the magazine and reads the last lines.

LIZ: “The huge, shapeless thing crept slowly up behind Mildred, and before she could scream it slipped its bony hands around her - Oh, no!!!” GEORGE: “What does it say, Liz? Around her what?” LIZ: “Around her continued next week! Good night!”

ANNOUNCER: “You have been listening to ‘My Favorite Husband’ starring Lucille Ball, with Richard Denning, and based on characters created by Isobel Scott Rorick. Tonight's transcribed program was produced and directed by Jess Oppenheimer, who wrote the script with Madelyn Pugh and Bob Carroll, Jr. Be sure to get the April Issue of ‘Radio Mirror Magazine’ with the big picture of Lucille Ball on the cover. That's the April issue of ‘Radio Mirror Magazine.’ Original music was composed by Marlin Skyles and conducted by Wilbur Hatch. Bob LeMond speaking.”

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

"Did Meghan and Harry buy in Montecito? Sources point to $14.65-million estate"

By NEAL J. LEITEREG, 

JACK FLEMMING

AUG. 12, 2020

6:51 PM

Meghan and Harry have quietly moved up the coast, buying a home in the Santa Barbara area, sources told The Times.

Prince Harry and the former Meghan Markle have purchased a home in the heart of Montecito, according to people familiar with the matter who weren’t authorized to speak publicly.

Tabloids first reported that the Duke and Duchess of Sussex were relocating to the exclusive, celebrity-filled coastal community tucked between the Pacific Ocean and the Santa Ynez Mountains — but offered few details.

Area real estate agents point to a $14.65-million estate, which closed in an off-market sale in June. Tax records for the 7-acre property, which was listed last year for $34 million, match limited liability companies previously created by the Duchess of Sussex, according to records obtained by The Times.

Built in 2003, the sprawling estate is hedged and gated from the street and reached by a winding drive paved with hand-cut, locally sourced stone. Beyond the vine-covered entry is a coffered-ceiling living room, a billiards/game room, a home theater, spa facilities, an elevator and a gym.

There are nine bedrooms in the roughly 14,500-square-foot main house. A two-bedroom guesthouse, a teahouse, a tennis court, a swimming pool and a custom jungle gym are among amenities on-site.

The seller was a limited liability company tied to Russian investor Sergey Grishin, records show. Grishin is the former owner of another Montecito mansion, the so-called Scarface estate.

The move wraps up a yearlong saga for the royal couple, which kicked off in January when the pair announced they would “step back as ‘senior’ members of the royal family and become financially independent.”

Vowing to split time between Britain and North America, they cited space to raise their son Archie, who was born in May 2019, as a primary reason for the highly scrutinized move.

They spent the first few months of the year on Vancouver Island, Canada, reportedly living in a French-inspired mansion worth roughly $14 million, with plans to eventually move to L.A. The coronavirus outbreak accelerated those plans, and in March, they moved temporarily into Tyler Perry’s place in Beverly Hills to quarantine.

Spanning 22 acres in Beverly Ridge Estates, the dramatic Tuscan-style estate holds eight bedrooms and 12 bathrooms — a bit bigger than their new place in Montecito.

However, the retreat didn’t bring the privacy they were hoping for. In July, Harry and Meghan filed a harassment lawsuit in L.A. County Superior Court, alleging that unnamed paparazzi were flying drones overhead and cutting holes in the fence to photograph their family.

Compared with densely packed L.A., Montecito and the neighboring communities of Santa Barbara and Hope Ranch have long served as a quiet, scenic, spread-out haven for those who can afford it.

There’s a price for privacy, however. Zillow puts Montecito’s median home value at $3.276 million, more than quadruple L.A.'s median home value of $752,000.

Over the years, celebrity residents in the area have included Beach Boys member Mike Love, “Sopranos” star Michael Imperioli and actor Rob Lowe, who put his 3.4-acre estate in Montecito on the market for $47 million in 2018. Jeff Bridges sold his vineyard estate there for $15.9 million in 2017, and this summer, Ellen DeGeneres sold an English Tudor-style house to pop star Ariana Grande for $6.75 million.

Oprah is perhaps the area’s most famous owner. She dropped $50 million on a 42-acre spread known as the “Promised Land” in 2001 and has since been snatching up properties across the community, including a nearby horse farm that she bought at auction for $28.95 million in 2015.

[oingos-bitch]

Another JoJo Mall Fanfic™ -- And So It Begins. . . (Chapter 2)

The  next  day  was  spent  wandering  around  nearby  cities;  cities  far  away;  small  towns;  beaches;  concrete  jungles;  even  mountains!  Just  to  search  for  the  best  spot  for  a  shopping  centre.  Whereas  it  was  exciting  for  JoJo,  it  was  annoying  and  pointless  to  Dio.  He  was  almost  tempted  to  buy  the  deed  to  a  few  acres  of  a  small  desert  town  just  to  ensure  that  they  wouldn't  have  to  travel  anymore. 'No,  I  have  to  drag  it  out  and  make  him  regret  putting  his  effort  into  his  stupid  little  mall,'  he  thought.

It  was  almost  dinnertime  when  Jonathan  suddenly  slammed  onto  the  brakes,  sending  Dio crashing  onto  the  dashboard.

"WHAT  IN  THE  FUCK  DID  YOU  DO  THAT  FOR?"

"Ah,  sorry,"  Jonathan  replied  absentmindedly.

Wondering  what  besides  him  was  so  amazing  to  look  at,  Dio  turned  his  face  up,  his  jaw  dropping  and  his  face  sharing  the  same  astonished  expression  as  JoJo's.  The  building  before  them  was  a  massive  and  impressive  mash  of  glass  and  stone,  and  throughout  its  exterior  was  a  lovely  marriage  of  old-fashioned  and  modern  husks  of  former  stores.  Though  he  hated  to  admit  it,  Dio  was  just  starting  to  feel  optimistic  about  the  whole  mall  project;  and  though  he'd  deny  it,  he  was  grateful  that  JoJo  had  been  able  to  spot  such  a  perfect  place.  

Beaming,  JoJo  picked  up  his  phone  and  dialed  the  realtor's  number  with  gusto.

"Hello?  Yes,  this  is  Jonathan  Joestar,  how  soon  can  we  meet  up?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A  few  weeks  had  passed  since  they  had  bought  the  mall,  and  both  men  were  up  to  their  heads  in  planning!  Jonathan  woke  up  earlier  than  usual  to  brainstorm  and  found  himself  skipping  meals  just  to  finish  his  list  of  necessities  and  itty-bitty  details.  Erina  was  starting  to  worry  and  made  it  known,  frequently  reminding  him  to  sit  down  and  at  least  have  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  snack.

"After  all,"  she'd  say,  "I'm  sure  Dio  is  not  worrying  about  it  as  much  as  you  are!"

He  was.

In  fact,  he  could  be  considered  worse  than  JoJo.  He  had  switched  his  hours  of  sleep  for  hours  of  work,  substituting  most  of  his  meals  for  Redbull  and  not  even  bothering  to  dress  up  like  he  usually  did.  The  last  time  Jonathan  went  to  visit  him,  he  screamed  loudly,  for  he  thought  that  the  person  who  answered  the  door  was  another  one  of  Dio's  victims  rather  than  Dio  himself.  Thankfully,  both  men  worried  much  less  when  most  of  the  remodeling  and  minor  details  were  underway,  and  both  men  could  finally  sleep  easy,  knowing  that  there  was  just  one  more  meeting  that  needed  to  be  carried  out.

So  there  they  stood  one  Sunday  morning,  on  the  corner  of a  busy  street,  the  massive  building  situated  between  a  bumbling  city  and  a  tranquil  park,  dark  green  tape  wrapped  around  the  construction  site,  dozens  of  hardhats  moving  in  and  out  and  around  of  the  edifice.  Pointing  an  expensive-looking  manicured  nail  at  the  mall's  map,  Dio  spoke.

"So,  what  store  is  going  to  be  between  the  Payless  and  the  GreenCrush?"

"Well,  I'd  thought  quite  a  bit  about  it,  and  I  believe  that  we  should  add  a  WingStop  there!"

"Hmm....What  about  a  Hooters?"  The  vampire  suggested  mischievously.

Jonathan's  eyes  nearly  bulged  out  of  his  head.  "N-NO!  IT'S  SUPPOSED  TO  BE  A  FAMILY-FRIENDLY  MALL!"

"But  what  fun  is  a  completely  family-friendly  place?"

"A  place  can  be  fun  without  being  devoid  of  innocence!"

"I  very  much  doubt  that; there  are  going  to  be  teenagers  here,  you  do  realize?"

"Well,  they'll  just  have  to  find  some  way  to  entertain  themselves,  or  go  to  a  different  mall."

Dio  exasperatedly  threw  his  hands  in  the  air.  "This  isn't  just  about  what  YOU  want,  JoJo!  Father  let  me  work  on  this too!"  

"Then  why  don't  you  go  and  ask  him  to  help  you?"  JoJo retorted.

"FINE!  I will!"  Dio  proceeded  to  dial  his  number.  In  the  most  meek  and  sob-inducing  voice  he  could  muster,  he  whined.  

"Daddy,  JoJo  won't  let  me  add  any  stores  of  my  own!  I  begged  him  to  let  me  add  a  couple  of  more  adult  stores,  but  he  said  that  it  needs  to  be  completely  family-friendly!....Oh,  I  see....Okay...Okay!  Thank  you,  Father!"

He  snapped  the  phone  shut  and  handed  it  to  Jonathan.  "See?  I  did  ask  him  for  help,  and  I  was  told  that  it  was  perfectly  fine.  In  fact,  he  repeated  my  own  words, 'After  all,  there  are  going  to  be  teenagers  and  adults  shopping  here.'  You  can  call  him  yourself,  if  you  don't  believe  me."

Jonathan  looked  down  at  the  phone  and  pouted. 'Oh,  well  it's  just  going  to  be  ONE  store.  How  bad  can  it  be?'

And  so,  after  a  few  more  arguments  and  a  lot  more  phone  calls,  A  Hooters  was  planted  inside  the  store. And  a  Spencer's.  And  a  Dick's  Last  Resort.

Now  all  that  was  left  was  to  hire  employees.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He  hoped  none  of  his  co-workers  saw  him  do  this.

Clad  in  a  pair  of  black  skinny  jeans  and  a  large  grey  hoodie,  Risotto  looked  around  before  snatching  one  of  the  many  flyers  posted  around  the  city.  A  new  mall  was  to  be  opened  soon,  and  with  the  recent  pay  cuts  the  Boss  had  made,  he  couldn't  afford  most  of  the  necessities  for  their  jobs  or  for  personal  expenses.  And  being  a  man  who  hated  to  see  his  team  being  let  down,  what  better  way  to  support  them  than  to  make  up  for  that  recent  budget  cut?  So,  there  he  was,  frantically  plugging  the  digits  into  his  phone.  Just  as  he  rose  his  phone  to  his  face,  he  felt  a  small  frame  bump  into  him.

"Ow,  sorry!"

He  turned  around  to  help,  only  to  be  met  with  familiar  lilac  eyebrows  and  teal  eyes,  without  a  mask.

"Melone?!"

He  stood,  dusting  himself  off.

"Yep,  it's  me!  I  didn't  think  I'd  see  you  around  here,  Capo..."  Melone's  pleasantly  surprised  face  turned  to  one  of  curiosity  as  he  eyed  the  pale  scrap  in  Risotto's  palm.

"What  is  that?"

"Oh,  it's  nothing,  just  a  small  concert  I  was  thinking  about  going  to."

"Oooh,  may  I  see?  I  bet  it's  another  one  of  those  underground  metal  bands  you  like-"

The  tall  man  stepped  back  as  Melone  reached  for  the  paper,  making  him  nearly  fall  in  the  process.  He  pouted,  questioning,  "What's  so  wrong  about  it?  It's  just  a  band-"

"Yeah,  but,  um- I'm  kind  of  embarrassed  about  it,  you  may  not  like  it..."

Melone  rolled  his  eyes,  "But  it's  just  a  name,  how  bad  can  it  be?"  

"Ummm..."  Groaning  internally,  Risotto  decided that  it  would  be  best  just  to  give  it  up,  but  alas,  the  scrap  of  paper  was  missing  as  he  went  to  hand  it  to  Melone.  He  gasped,  "Where'd  it..."

Melone  giggled,  holding  the  paper  in  front  of  his  face,  "Got  it.~"

He  skimmed  over  the  paper  as  Risotto  looked  on  nervously.  "So,  a  second  job,  huh?..."  Risotto  slightly  stammered  over  his  words,  soon  being  cut  off  with  a  "Count  me  in!"  

"What?"

"You're  not  the  only  one  who's  thought  of  this,  Capo.~  I've  been  looking  for  a  while, too.  So,  put  in  a  good  word  for  me,  if  you  please."  He  smiled  up  at  him.

Still  in  a  bit  of  shock,  Risotto  hesitated  before  finally  picking  up  the  phone.  

"Hello,  Mr.  Joestar?  My  name  is  Risotto  Nero,  and  my  friend  and  I  would  like  to  apply  for  a  job  at  your  mall,  specifically..."  He  glanced  down  at  the  scrap  and  swallowed  his  pride.  

"...Specifically  at  the  Hooters."

[totalrockfiend]

Woodstock Turns 50! And Thankfully There Will Be No 50th Anniversary Festival...

So, Woodstock happened 50 years ago...

The original event, which took place August 15 - 18, 1969, is celebrating its Golden Jubilee.  

Naturally, given the festival’s towering historic status, plans have been afoot to mount a 50th anniversary festival to commemorate Woodstock’s golden milestone. 

But these efforts, aptly titled Woodstock 50, have fallen through. And I for one, couldn’t be happier.

Not that I have any animosity toward the original Woodstock. Or am I opposed to the concept of Woodstock in general. Quite the contrary, in fact. As a Total Rock Fiend, not to mention a student of Rock History, Woodstock looms large in my musical consciousness...

3 Days of Peace + Music

Held at Max Yasgur's 600-acre dairy farm near White Lake in Bethel, New York, which actually a about 40 miles southwest of Woodstock, the festival billed as “An Aquarian Event: 3 Days of Peace and Music.” 

And framed in broader culture context, Woodstock marked the peak of the ‘60s counter-culture movement and the height of Rock + Roll’s revolutionary rebellion.

What a Lineup!?

Musically speaking, the festival was a barn-burner for the ages (or at least for the age of the Aquarius). The many highlights are stunning indeed...

Richie Havens cold solo acoustic opening. 

Santana’s transcendent, mike-dropping jamz. 

Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young (back when ole Neil was still aboard the Marrakesh Express) heaped up heavenly helpings of soaring harmonies.

Jimi Hendrix Rock Guitar God histrionics, including his ethereal take on the Star Spangled Banner (though Jimi show-closing turn a Woodstock is still no match for his unrivaled performance a year prior at the Monterey Pop Festival, in which a completely unbridled Hendrix set his Strat aflame and sacrificed it to the Gods of Rock + Roll).

Woodstock, the Academy Award-Winning Documentary

And those are just few of the tastiest bits. Most of which we’re now privy to for time in immemorial, thanks to the Academy Award-winning documentary, aptly titled: Woodstock

The film purports to have captured the best of the best among the performances Woodstock had to offer. But did it really?

Mountain guitarist, Leslie West, claims his band turned in one of their best performances in the group’s storied history. Which, again, according to West, the filmmakers caught on tape. 

But West says the band’s manager hoped to “leverage” the producers for more money. Meanwhile, said manager managed to lever Mountain right out of the flick.

And who knows how many other acts wound up on the cutting room floor barring the brunt of similar “behind the scenes” machinations? With 34 bands on the bill and only 20 in the film’s finally cut, likely more than a few.

Woodstock, the Happening...

But more than a simple concert in the woods, Woodstock is one of those gatherings that transcends mere event status and, particularly in hindsight, has bloomed into a full bore “Cultural Happening.” 

Case in point, 500,000 or so attendees are estimated to have been on hand at Yasgar’s rolling country farm. Yet, seemingly millions of left-leaning, progressively minded folks, not to mention a plethora of die-hard rock fans who happened to alive in the era make the claim... “Yeah, I was at Woodstock...”

And based on Woodstock’s titanic “Cultural Happening” status, there is, of course, a demand for repeat happenings. However misguided the attempt to capture “lightening in bottle” may be be.

Failed Attempts At Recapturing the Magic of the Original

Thus far, Woodstock has seen a couple of stabs at recreating the “magic” first encountered in 1969.

In honor of it’s Silver Anniversary, we saw Woodstock ‘94. A who’s who of the day’s top modern rock acts, which came at the height of “Alt-Rock Explosion,” the festival was most notable for it’s torrential rains. The precipitation soggy effects launched concert goers into “mud wars” for a large portion of the event. Consequently, the festival was dubbed “Mudstock.”

The second go-round, occurring on the festivals 30th Anniversary in 1999, proved a darker outing. With Nu-Metal the genre de jour in late ‘90s, Limp Biscuit front-man, Fred Durst, managed to incite a riot during his band’s performance, with concert goers nearly tearing apart the stage. 

The following evening, a plethora of bonfires erupted during the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s performance climatic performance. The ensuing flames eventually burned a sound monitoring tower, and ultimately brought out the State Police to clear the grounds.

Event organizers refused to allow any outside food or drink. A commercially calculated move that forced attendees to buy criminally overpriced water and food from venue food stalls. Such naked capitalism was rightly observer as far out of alignment with any of Woodstock’s guiding principles. And cast a greedy shadow over the whole affair. 

More tragically, four rapes were reported to police, and countless other sexual assaults alleged, including a gang rape during Korn’s performance. The event also claimed the life of David DeRosia, due largely to complication from heat stroke. 

“MTVStock” was the moniker bandied about by more cynical critics at the time, related to MTV’s exclusive broadcast rights, and the oppressively “corporate” feel of the proceedings. In retrospect, however, Rapestock might be more apt. If not particularly politically correct.

And this brings us up-to-date on the run of Woodstock re-treads.

The Woodstock 50 Festival is NOT Happening, And That’s a Good Thing

For those caught unawares, there’s has been a movement, spearheaded by the original Woodstock organizers, to mount a Woodstock 50th Anniversary festival, known simply as Woodstock 50.

Though a couple of players involved in the effort were toiling away right up the the actual anniversary date to make the festival happen, Woodstock 50 is a no-go.

And truth be told, it’s a good thing.

Woodstock had it’s moment. The hippies, and the yippies, and the counter-culture poobahs all had their proverbial moment in the sun. They showed all the “straights” and their uptight, mainstream, white male-dominated culture just how much peace and love and rock + roll could achieved.

Which, apparently, was a muddy concert in the woods that certainly rawked hard, and is fondly remember, but ultimately signaled the end of the ‘60s progressive revolution more than anything.

But of course, the Baby Boomers can’t let it go. Just like they can’t let go of their cushy c-suite jobs or their Millennial kids or their plush lifestyles.

But it’s time to say goodbye. So, let’s remember Woodstock for all the rock it wrought and the amazing coming together it birthed. And stop trying to wring to much out of a good thing.

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Tuesday, 17th September 2019 – Alsace Wine Tour (Strasbourg, Obernai, Dambach-la-ville, Ribeauvillé, Bergheim)

We made an early start because we needed to meet the tour guide from Ophorus Tours at 09:00 outside the Tourist Information office in Strasbourg. We’d booked a full day tour of Alsace, stopping off at three different wine growers on the way. This was organised through Winerist who we’d used for a Bordeaux tour last year. The experience had been so good that we’d had no hesitation in seeking them out again for a trip around our latest destination. There are a number of reasons for using them not least because they employ genuine experts in their field who originate from the region they work in or know it perfectly, speak excellent English, and hold the WSET level 2 in Wines & Spirits, the course I’m going on in January next year, which means they know a great deal about the wines and winemakers they take you to visit.

We arrived a tad too early and struggled to find anywhere open to get a coffee. When we eventually did, we shared a small kougelhopf between us and then arrived back at the meeting place five minutes before time. We were soon rounded up along with the other 6 people on the tour and set off out of town towards Obernai. It was a bit of a cold day at this point and I must admit I was wishing I’d brought a sweater. However, we stopped outside town initially and noted that although the Vosges mountains were being rather shy, the cloud was beginning to lift. Our initial stop was at the Mémorial National des Incorporés de Force, which was inaugurated in 1956 in memory of the 272 inhabitants of the canton who dies or disappeared during the Second World Ward when they were forced to serve in the German Army, and, to prevent them from deserting or turning against their own “side”, were sent off to the Eastern Front and never came back – because most combatants sent there didn’t come back (my uncle Herbert for one, my Dad’s twin brother, who was from Leipzig not Alsace, but who was sent to Ukraine aged 18 – nothing was ever heard of him again).

The monument offers a fantastic view over the town (and makes it easy to see the old street patterns) and towards Mont Sainte-Odile. It’s also surrounded by vineyards, and our guide, Olivier, had us all taste the fruit, which was sweet and ripe and really tiny, being almost all pip and skin. It was a bit odd because you could almost sense the tannin in it as well. It was an interesting insight. The grapes he’d raided were Pinot Noir. He then went on to explain about how wine works in Alsace. It’s different to everywhere else in France, but then again French regions vary wildly anyway in what you can and can’t do as a winemaker. Alsace wine is mostly white and is the only Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée region in France to produce mostly varietal wines, typically from similar grape varieties to those used in German wine. Wines are produced as Alsace AOC (white, rosé and red wines), Alsace Grand Cru (white wines from 51 classified vineyards) and Crémant d’Alsace sparkling wines.

In 2006, vines were grown on 15,298 hectares (37,800 acres) in 119 villages in Alsace, and 111.3 million litres of wine was produced, corresponding to 148.4 million bottles of 750 ml, generating 478.8 million euro in revenue. 25% of the production is exported, and the largest export markets for in terms of volume are Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark and the United States. The geography of the wine growing area is determined by two main factors, the Vosges mountains in the west and the Rhine in the east, with the vineyards concentrated on a narrow strip running roughly north–south. The Vosges mountains provide shelter from rain and maritime influence, and the region is dry and sunny with Colmar being the driest city in France. The grape varieties they are permitted to use are Riesling, Sylvaner, Muscat, Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, and Gewürztraminer for whites, with a couple of variants such as Klevener de Heiligenstein, and the only red grape is Pinot Noir.

Anyway we swiftly moved on from the memorial to the first of the three vineyards we’d be stopping off at Robert Blanck, who have been winemakers since 1732, using old-fashioned methods (no stainless steel tanks for them, thank you very much). We tried a number of wines, made a lot of notes, and then made enquiries about their opening hours so we could go back with the car. I wasn’t about to lug several boxes of wine around on the tram system, not matter how efficient it was. We would drive past the following day and pick up what we wanted in between doing some sightseeing. I was interested to note that they were members of the Vignerons indépendants de France, an organization that supports independent winemakers throughout France. Their members must respect their terroir, work and harvest their own vineyards, make and bottle their wine themselves and generally maintain viticultural traditions. Whatever their methods, they make some very good wines, and they provided a ridiculously generous tasting.

They also explained that, unlike in Bordeaux, Alsace barrels go on for years and years and years, because in the main they are not interested in using barrels that will hugely affect the taste of the wine, so new barrels are not something they are at all keen on. This would turn out to be significant information with regard to the second vineyard we went to. Some of the barrels in use are a couple of hundred years old, with some very fine decorative work. They also have the tiniest doors, which are used by the cellar masters to get inside the barrels when they need cleaning. You can’t be fat and be a cellar master it would seem.

  Speaking of taste, our guide told us more about the wine in the barrel held by the Hôpital civil in Strasbourg. In their historic cellars there is what is believed to be the oldest wine barrel in the world, dating back to 1472. The cellar itself was built in 1395, and was needed because back then patients sometimes paid for their treatment by donating land, and around these parts much of that land would have vineyards on it. As wine was also used for medical purposes, wine cellars were common in hospitals, though of course there aren’t many left. This one even survived a fire that destroyed the rest of the hospital in 1716, and they simply rebuilt around the cellar.

The 1472 barrel is 450 litres in capacity and holds 350 litres  of wine at present. This wine has only been tasted on rare occasions, in 1576 in honour of the delegation from Zurich that came to prove how quickly they could arrive to help their allies in Strasbourg (presumably in celebration of the centenary of the Hirsebreifahrt of 1476), in 1718 for the reconstruction of the main building after the fire, and in 1944 when Strasbourg was liberated during World War II. A select group of wine-makers are permitted to mature their wines in the cellars, where they are aged in oak barrels, a practice that is no longer common in Alsace. Profits from the sales of the 150,000 bottles of wine produced each year being used to purchase medical equipment.

Although it isn’t tasted, the wine was checked in 1994 to ensure it hadn’t turned to acid, as it would then no longer be considered wine. The wine is still technically wine, at least according to the oenologists from the interregional laboratory of the DGCCRF in Strasbourg. They said the wine “has a very beautiful bright, very amber color, a powerful nose, very fine, of a very great complexity, aromas reminiscent of vanilla, honey, wax, camphor, fine spices, hazelnut and fruit liquor”. However, I doubt anyone is ever going to be allowed to drink it so we’ll have to take their word for it.

Remaining on the subject of barrels, we now travelled on to the absurdly pretty little town of Dambach-la-Ville, which set off some excitable rushing about by the Japanese couples on the trip. Here we visited Famille Hauller. They have been in business since 1776, when François-Joseph Hauller, a master cooper, set up his workshop in Dambach-La-Ville. Eventually the family also started to make wine alongside making the barrels to keep wine in and then, finding that the market for barrels was limited by the fact that Alsace’s wine makers do not buy new barrels for reasons outlined earlier, shifted entirely to wine making by the end of the 20th century. He did first create a wonderful barrel for his wife…

Louis Hauller, the son of Léon Hauller, was the last master cooper in the family, and he was the one who made to move to make viticulture their core business in the 1970’s. He produced his first bottles which he sold directly to customers at wine fairs across France. Since then, Claude Hauller, his son joined the business in 1990, and while they still run the business, the next generation have now also joined in the shape of Claude’s sons, Ludovic and Guillaume. It was Ludovic, who looks after marketing, who showed us around and conducted the tasting, as well as showing us round the cooperage, where his grandfather seems to have amassed more tools than anyone could use in a lifetime.

We tasted a number of wines here too, though less than at Robert Blanck. We also had some further explanations around the making of wine (some people on the tour were starting from a position of considerably less knowledge than others, and our guide was brilliant at handling that). We learned more about the cleaning process by which every few years a residue that forms during the wine-making process is removed from the inside of the barrels. This is what can lead to sediment in bottles of wine, and is apparently sold on to various other industries. I’ve not been able to find out exactly what is done with it, but I’m sure if I keep digging, I’ll eventually get the information.

We again made notes of the wines, though I had to do it by photographing and remembering what we’d had. The tables in the tasting room were made out of old barrels, with racks of wine bottles lining the walls.

We tasted a Riesling Cuvée Prestige, a Riesling Grand Cru Frankstein, a Pinot Gris Cuvée Prestige and a Gewürztraminer Cuvée Prestige, and I would happily have bought several bottles of each. This would turn out to be rather too difficult to achieve, but I have them filed away in my mind for future trips or even buying online. It was now lunchtime, so we headed into Ribeauvillé, another of the picture postcard pretty towns that dot the Alsace wine route from top to bottom. After we’d grabbed the last parking place in town we headed off to find something to eat, taking our guide’s recommendation that we try out the historic Caveau de l’Ami Fritz for some proper local specialities.

It was utterly heaving outside in the garden and on the terrace so we made our way inside into the cool of the old cellars, and grabbed a table. It took quite a long time from ordering to the arrival of our food, but luckily we had a couple of hours to spare. We ordered a main course each and decided we didn’t need anything else. We’d seen the size of the portions…

Here are the liver dumplings that Lynne had.

And this is my Coq au Riesling (a leg thereof) cooked in Riesling with spaetzle.

And that’s before we talk about the bowl of potatoes that came with the dumplings…

Or the salad…

Suitably replete, we staggered out to rejoin our party, having run out of time to look around the town beyond a cursory look at the main street. We had one more wine grower to meet, the splendid Sylvie Spielmann, over in Bergheim.

Here there was much discussion or terroir, unavoidable given that the history of the domaine is linked to the old gypsum quarry which the family had mined for more than a century. For a century or so there were several quarries in the area, but the Spielmann family was the last to continue operating the quarry, while also starting wine growing. Later, Sylvie decided to fill in the old quarry and it now supports 8 hectares of vines from which she creates very fine wines that reflect the uncommon nature of that particular patch of vineyard. The other soils are the much heavier clay, marl and limestone and we were shown samples of each.

She also has two of the 51 grand cru vineyards, Grand Cru Altenberg de Bergheim and Grand Cru Kanzlerberg. Just to add to the fun there are also the Blosenberg and Engelgarten vineyards, which “possess particular qualities that merit a separate winemaking process”.

Although she’s been wine making for quite some time, she remains open to new ideas and in addition to becoming a certified organic producer, she’s also been experimenting with things like “orange” wines and natural wines. Sadly we didn’t get to taste any of those, though we did work our way through quite a lot of different wines. Again, we made a list, and checked that we could call back the following day to buy.

Right now the harvest was in full swing (it had been declared a couple of weeks earlier but that just means that people can start any time they want after that), there was bottling going on, and for good measure Sylvie was having to deal with a bunch of tourists who didn’t look like they were going to buy much (she’d get a pleasant surprise when we turned up the following day and bought 30 bottles including some very fine and quite expensive vendange tardives).

It was getting late-ish now and everyone seemed to be quite tired after all that tasting. I was grateful I didn’t need to drive and that we could again use the tram. Back in Alsace we called in at the gingerbread shop and the chocolate shop to buy some presents for people, including us, and then caught the tram back to Illkirch-Grafenstaden. We stopped at the supermarket on the way and bought some duck parmentier for dinner before retreating to the apartment where we dined on that, along with the previous day’s bretzels and some on the cheese leftover from the ferry trip. We drank a local Pinot Noir and started packing up ready to move on the following morning.

Travel 2019 – Alsace and Baden, Day 5, Strasbourg, Obernai, Dambach-la-ville, Ribeauvillé, Bergheim Tuesday, 17th September 2019 - Alsace Wine Tour (Strasbourg, Obernai, Dambach-la-ville, Ribeauvillé, Bergheim) We made an early start because we needed to meet the tour guide from…

[phroyd]

‘The changes have become more radical’: farmers are spending more time and money trying to grow crops in new climates

Chris McGreal in Langdon, Missouri

Richard Oswald did not need the latest US government report on the creeping toll of climate change to tell him that farming in the midwest is facing a grim future, and very likely changing forever.

For Oswald, the moment of realisation came in 2011.

The 68-year-old lives in the house he was born in and farms 2,500 acres with his son, some of it settled by his great-great-grandfather. The land sits where the Missouri river valley is about four miles wide.

Growing up, Oswald heard tales of a great flood in 1952 which prompted the army to construct levees.

“The next flood wasn’t for another 40 years, in 1993. Heavy rains day after day after day after day until the runoff water and the rain just overpowered the river and the levees,” said Oswald. “Both the ’52 and ’93 floods lasted three weeks. They were abnormal.”

Then came the big Missouri river flood in 2011.

“Heavy rains and heavy snow in the Dakotas and Montana created a huge amount of water. That flood lasted here almost four months. More rain than anybody really ever has any memory of coming down the river,” he said.

Oswald’s farm was underwater for much of that time and the corn lost. Missouri declared a state of emergency. Crops were ruined or never planted. Grain prices surged.

The flooding was memorable in its own right but Oswald also sees it as marking a shift in weather patterns which has forced him to farm differently.

“When I was a kid, my dad would say an inch of rain was a good rain. That’s just what we needed. Now we get four inches, five inches, six inches in one sustained wet spell that lasts two or three days. I don’t ever remember that as a boy. I’ve never seen the sustained wetness in the land that we have now. Even though the river hasn’t gone on the land it’s raised the water table so that the rains that we’ve had this fall, which have been unusually heavy, make it muddy. Continually muddy,” he said.

On 23 November, the National Climate Assessment warned of “substantial damages” across the US in the coming years from increasing wildfires in the west to flooding in the east. But the sharpest rise in temperatures will be between the coasts as the midwest endures longer and hotter summers, heavier rains and droughts that collectively are predicted to significantly reduce US agricultural production.

“Expected increases in challenges to livestock health, declines in crop yields and quality, and changes in extreme events in the United States and abroad threaten rural livelihoods, sustainable food security, and price stability,” said the 1,600-page report, the work of 13 federal agencies.

Climate change is likely to make it harder to grow crops, and to make those that do grow more vulnerable to diseases and pests because of rising humidity. The report said heat and diminishing air quality will take its toll on livestock. Farmers will collectively have to spend billions of dollars to adapt. The effects are already seen from prolonged drought in Kansas and torrential rains in Iowa.

Before the flood in 2011, Oswald, a Missouri river valley crop farmer, was skeptical about the warnings that rising temperatures heralded a more difficult future. Since then, the routines of planting and harvesting that his family has pursued on the same land for five generations have given way to a haphazard cycle governed by waves of extreme heat and intense rains.

“The changes have become more radical. The way the rains come down and the temperatures. You’re constantly trying to manage it,” said Oswald, a former president of the Missouri Farmers Union. “There’s so much unknown about the weather now that it’s pretty hard to do much about it.”

As his son, Brandon, works a combine harvester up and down a field, Oswald kicks the soil with his foot.

“If you look at this, it’s pretty dry right on top but not too far down it’s mud. Two weeks ago there was water standing here from all the rain and the inability of the soil to absorb that much moisture because the level of the river was such that the water level was pretty close to the top of the ground here,” he said.

That mud makes it difficult to plant and to harvest. The rains narrow the number of days when Oswald can get a crop in the ground. If it forces him to delay planting the corn, that means the soybeans will go in late. Worst of all, Oswald said, is that it is all so unpredictable. Where planting was typically spread over the same few days in spring and summer every year, now it can vary by weeks.

Gene Takle, one of the authors of the climate change report and director of the climate science programme at Iowa State University, traces the sharply increased rainfalls to rising temperatures in the Gulf of Mexico. He said that for centuries, the gulf’s waters have been carried as moisture into the midwest and delivered consistent rainfalls that made the region America’s breadbasket.

But as temperatures have risen so has the amount of moisture in a dome of vapour over the Gulf of Mexico. Takle said that at the same time climate change has moved a pressure centre in the Atlantic, known as the Bermuda high, westwards and closer to a band of low pressure over the Rocky mountains creating higher windspeeds across parts of the midwest. That, in turn, has intensified the flow of moisture from the Gulf of Mexico.

The result is heavier rains dumping huge amounts of water on to fields, alongside rising temperatures.

“Humidity is the the key, the smoking gun, for the increase in our rainfall,” said Takle, a professor of agronomy and of geological and atmospheric sciences.

Takle said that heavy rains in 2013 forced farmers in north-western Iowa to abandon planting altogether on more than 700,000 acres, more than 10% of the state’s land. That came a year after Iowa was hit by widespread drought that also hit the crop harvest.

Some farmers are installing drainage systems to cope with the higher rainfalls, a sign that they know climate change is here to stay. Others are buying expensive new equipment that allows them to plant more seeds in the narrowing windows between rains.

Takle, who grew up on a farm and whose brother still farms in Iowa, said the intense rains have a long-term impact, too. Scientists calculate that dry soil is unable to absorb the water from a rainfall of more than about 1.25in over 24 hours. After that the water starts to erode the soil.

“You start to get excess water moving down slope surfaces and carrying with it any nutrients and nitrogen and phosphates or soil particles,” he said. “We’re getting more of the soil erosion promoting rainfalls. Farmers are using cover crops in the spring period to have some some residual vegetation on the surface to protect it from these extreme events.”

Standing amid his soybeans, Oswald nods north toward the hills on the edge of the valley.

“We farm some upland fields up over that hill a couple of miles,” he said. “They’re rolling hills and they’re terraced. They have structures on them to help control the runoff of the water. But when you have those big rains, none of the terraces or the dams can keep up with that as well as they should. So you have more erosion.”

The size of harvests is already falling. This year, heavy rains have hit soya bean crops, delaying planting or washing out the plants in parts of the midwest, including Iowa.

Alongside the rains are increasing temperatures.

“This year we saw 100-degree temperatures in May which is very unusual,” said Oswald. “I don’t ever remember that in my lifetime or even heard about it. That’s a first ever.”

The Missouri Climate Center recorded that temperatures were above average throughout the spring and summer this year, with September on average 3F warmer than during the 20th century

In the short term, higher temperatures have had some benefit because in parts of the region they extended the growing season and contributed to bigger harvests.

“In the midwest we have about nine days more now than we did 50 years ago,” said Takle. “Part of the increase in yields that we’ve been experiencing over the last 20 or 30 years definitely has been due to the earlier planting and the longer growing season.”

But Takle said those benefits are being lost, and will be reversed in the coming years, as rising temperatures combine with the heavy rains to make growing ever more difficult. He said corn is vulnerable to high temperatures during pollination.

A decade ago, Oswald was on the fence about climate change.

“At a certain point you just have to look at what’s going on in your own world and try to decide what you think the impacts of that are,” he said.

As Oswald’s thinking changed, so did his determination to persuade others of the reality of climate change. As president of the Missouri Farmers union, he had some success in getting a discussion going among its members. But he said climate change is politically charged among farmers in part because some see it as a stick to beat them over their practices.

“One of the problems farmers have is when we start talking about environment, a lot of times Sierra Club comes to mind and Sierra Club is pretty radical in their approach. When you have a group that says cows are the problem, you need to get rid of all the cows, and raising corn is a problem, we need to get rid of all the corn, then you’re not going to have a lot of farmers who want to join in and follow you,” he said.

Still, Oswald believes that denial is in retreat. Where farmers, including him, were once skeptical they now see the change with their own eyes. The problem is what to do about it.

“A lot of them will say there’s nothing we can do about it so we might as well not worry because we can’t have an impact, we just have to live with it,” he said.

But he said as climate change bites, farmers are increasingly accepting of the science as they are forced to spend more money on equipment and seeds to maintain current crop yields.

“It’s become almost an annual assault on their ability to produce good crops. So they are now starting to ask questions and I think are listening a little more to what the scientists are saying about the potential future.”

Phroyd

[shelleyseale]

12 Days of Giving: The Gift of Nature Through the Japanese Art of Forest Bathing

This is the first in our special "12 Days of Giving" series running for the holiday season. It's a little different from what you might think of as traditional presents or giving. We aren't really talking about stuff you buy or a gift list. Rather, on these 12 days, we will be talking about different gifts that you can give to yourself, or others — gifts that have a deeper meaning, that can help you live with intention, be happier, be healthier. Soul gifts, you might even call them. Join us on the journey. The Gift of Nature: Connecting with the Natural World Through the Japanese Art of Forest Bathing

It's that moment when you step away from the man-made world and into the natural one, that your senses seem to heighten, your body's stress levels lower, and your mind's always-churning to-do list begins to quiet. Whether  it's a five-minute walk through your local park or sit in your own backyard, a miles-long hike in a forest, or a multi-day or week camping trip: there's always that sense of peace. Relaxation. Of coming home. This, my friends, is what we were born into — the natural world. This is where we originated from, and where we are meant to be. Our ancestors had no skyscrapers, cars, shopping malls, computers. They were fully engaged with nature for everything: their food, medicine, homes, livelihood and very existence. But for most of us living in today's busy, modern society, that world seems all too far away most of the time. And so we become more and more disconnected. More harried and stressed. More tied to technology, until we're unsure if we own our devices or if they own us. There's always something else to do, to think about, somewhere else to go, another mission to accomplish. But sometimes, we need to just slow down. Don't get me wrong here — I'm no hard-core outdoors type of person. Don't think I'm coming to you as one of those bad-asses who runs marathons or wild camps in the remote wilderness. My idea of camping firmly includes hot, running water, a comfortable sleeping spot, and wine. At the same time, I connect with nature at a primal level, and on a regular basis. We all do. But if you're anything like me, it's not nearly enough. You may sometimes wonder, like I do, how we can more easily disconnect for an hour, even, and let the healing, calming force of nature root us down again.

Welcome to shinrin-yoku, a Japanese tradition that is loosely defined as "forest bathing." I was introduced to this concept a couple of weeks ago — I had never heard the term before. What is this forest bathing, I wondered. Is it some kind of weird ritual where I have to go in the woods and jump in a river or unclothe and roll around in the grass or something? It sounded a little hippy-dippy, to be honest — but I'm kind of a granola, hippy-dippy kinda girl and always interested to learn something new. So, I was intrigued. Shinrin-yoku, forest bathing, as it turns out is simply this: a full sensory immersion in the beauty and wonder of nature.

It's experiencing nature with all your senses — not just seeing it, or touching it as you walk through it, but hearing it, smelling it, even tasting it. A raindrop on your tongue. The way a stream sounds as it gurgles over the rocks beside you. That hint of pine in the air as you enter a stand of conifer trees. It's letting nature wash over you. Rooted in the ancient Japanese reverence for nature, the practice of shinrin-yoku was started in Japan in the early 1980s, as a program to try and get the overworked citizens of Tokyo and other large cities to leave the urban areas for short periods of time, to spend some quiet, healing time in a nearby forest. Today, there are many designated shinrin-yoku forest and trails throughout Japan, and hundreds of thousands of people immerse themselves in them each year — taking advantage of the way nature restores mental equilibrium and physical health.

Melanie Choukas-Bradley I learned all of this from Melanie Choukas-Bradley, a Certified Nature and Forest Therapy Guide. Based out of Washington, D.C., Melanie has traveled throughout Japan participating in forest bathing walks led by shinrin-yoku guides; and she's the author of The Joy of Forest Bathing: Reconnect With Wild Places & Rejuvenate Your Life. I was invited on a forest bathing walk led by her, taking place at YMCA's Camp Moody in Buda, Texas, just south of where I live in Austin. I arrived at Camp Moody that morning with an eagerness to learn more about this practice, connect with nature and explore something new. Melanie, who had what she calls a "free-range childhood," writes in her book that most of us have very early, strong memories of experiences with nature. For her, it was the first time she saw a perfect snowflake. I was walking home from school on a path through the woods when a single snow crystal landed on a flat, dark rock in front of me. I knelt down and watched more snowflakes fall from the sky and land on the rock, each one perfect, each one unique, but perhaps none as perfect as the first. The dream-like quality of the snowflake memory is much like my other childhood memories of nature enchantment: finding the first woodland wildflowers just after snow melt in the spring; lying on a bed of moss and looking up into the leafy branches of a white birch tree; diving into a cold ocean wave and then burying myself in the warm sand. Childhood nature memories can easily be called up by a specific fragrance, a sound, a sight, or a general feeling of well-being. Melanie was there to greet our small group of about eight at the main pavilion of the camp, which is pretty much undeveloped land right now — seeming to make it a perfect location for forest bathing. Camp Moody is an 85-acre multi-use site for day and overnight camps, group events, retreats and outdoor education. Nestled along Onion Creek and scenic limestone bluffs, the YMCA has big plans for some really cool development of the property that was donated by George Yonge in 1999, which includes cabins, dining and recreational facilities to fit in with the natural world around it.

Photo courtesy of YMCA Camp Moody Megan Arnold with the YMCA said that the goal of Camp Moody is to connect families to nature. "With kids being connected to technology about seven-and-a-half hours per day, we're raising a generation that isn't connected to nature," she said. "They might not care about preservation, our national parks, etc. We want to change that." In keeping with the Y mission, they are also making sure Camp Moody is accessible to all, financially, geographically and physical ability-wise.

Before we began the walk, Melanie set our expectations. "This isn't going to be a vigorous, aerobic 'hike,'" she said. "It isn't goal-oriented; the point is to go slow, to take it all in, to be aware of the surroundings and discover the nature around us." What she was saying reminded me of what John Muir said about hiking: "I don't like either the word or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains - not hike! Do you know the origin of that word 'saunter?' It's a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, 'A la sainte terre — To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers, or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not 'hike' through them." ~John Muir And so we set out on our "saunter" — or rather, our forest bathing, a notion that I suspect that John Muir would have liked a great deal. Melanie invited us to walk in silence, to just enjoy the peace of nature and use all our sense to take it in as we moved through it. After a few minutes we reached the banks of a gurgling creek and paused for the first of her invitations. As we moved along our walk through nature, Melanie would issue an invitation for us to choose to take or leave. Listen to what you hear; notice what is moving around you; choose something that speaks to you. Every so often we would stop, and each person could share with the group if they so chose. At one spot down by a small running stream, we took a longer pause to find our own little spot and spend silent time immersing ourselves in the forest. The water running over the rocks was so soothing, and already — after less than half an hour in nature — I was feeling gloriously, refreshingly disconnected from the outside world. It would all still be waiting for me when I got back to it. so there was no need to do anything except be fully present in this moment. To enjoy the feeling of being once again primally connected to the earth and where we came from, and away from the hustle-and-bustle of modern life. I listened to the water, breathed in the clear air deeply, and became intrigued with a fuzzy caterpillar making its way over leaf by leaf in the little stream. Melanie had told us a little about the mountains of research that has shown what a real, measurable positive effect time spent in nature has on us. It's been proven to lower our blood pressure, pulse rates and cortisol levels; increase heart rate variability (this is a good thing!); and improve mood. As her book on forest bathing says, plants generate compounds called phytoncides to protect themselves from pathogens, and when we are in nature, these same airborne phytoncides that we breath in may even help protect our human bodies in ways that could increase our immunity to things like cancer and other diseases. The physical, mental and emotional health benefits of time spent in nature have been corroborated by researchers in North America, the U.K., Europe, China and South Korea. I believed it. I felt it. As our walk came to an end, we gathered in a clearing to enjoy a tea ceremony, and one of our group read the very appropriate poem, Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver. You can start your own forest bathing practice in your own adopted “wild home,” encompassed in three steps: 1. Disengagement from your daily routine 2. Deep breathing and nature connection through a series of quiet activities or “invitations” 3. Transitioning back to your daily life This restorative activity can be enjoyed by people of all ages and abilities: children, teenagers, and even senior citizens with limited mobility and people recovering from illness and surgery. And you don’t need to travel to the Japanese alps to experience the benefits of forest bathing. All you need is a small patch of untouched (or lightly touched) nature to adopt as your “wild home.”

Read the full article

[beyondlimitsonfoot]

**Originally hiked: October 18, 2018**

Trail Data

Mileage: 9.9 miles Elevation Gain: 2,100 feet Location: Angeles National Forest Type: Out-and-back Difficulty: Moderate

What to Expect in this Guide

Aside from the road being closed to the trailhead we planned on doing, we ended up doing a tougher hike and a little bit longer.

As those of you know who usually read my posts, I have areas to which you can get a lot of more information about the hike we did.  All in all, I put this area on here so that you can forward over to whichever area you would like to know more about.

 Background – If you’re interested a little more about the area and some facts about the hike.

 Map & Directions – See our hike on the map and directions on how to get to the trailhead below.

 Weather – Definitely something you need to check before you go out on the trail.

 Adventure Pass – Just a quick rundown of what pass you will need before you head out on the trail. *Pass is required to hike in this area.

Trail Camp & Water – The area has a trail camp with a water source nearby.

 Maps, Books and Gear Recommendations – A great source for what maps or books to have before going out.

 Hike Stats – I like to know points of interest on the trail, here are some for you to follow along when you go for the hike.

 My Ramblings – This is my favorite part mostly because the pictures.  Check this section out of my recollection of the hike and some photos.

Background

Mt. Hawkins sits in the Angeles National Forest (covering around 700,000 acres just outside of Los Angeles).  Much of the trail from Islip Saddle up to Mt. Hawkins (8,850 ft.) is via the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail).  Islip Saddle has a parking lot across the street from the trailhead.

Some nearby notable peaks that can be done in conjunction are Mount Islip, South Mount Hawkins, Middle Hawkins and Throop Peak.  Have any of you done this hike with multiple peaks in the area?  Let me know how in the comments below.

Map & Directions

To get to the trailhead:

Trailhead is at Islip Saddle, mile marker 64.1 on the Angeles Crest Highway.  The drive is about an hour/an hour and a half away from the Los Angeles area.  From downtown LA, take 110 North and merge onto I-5 North.  About 7 miles later, take CA-2 N (Angeles Crest Highway) toward Glendale.  Merge onto CA-2 E/I-210 E.  In .4 miles take CA-2 toward La Canada Flintridge.  Turn left onto Angeles Crest Hwy and drive 39.6 miles until you see a parking lot on the left at Islip Saddle.  The trailhead is directly across the street.

Weather

Mt. Hawkins ~8,041 ft –> Weather.gov

Throop Peak ~ 9,138 ft –> mountain-forecast.com

Adventure Pass

There are no permits required to hike this trail.

To park your vehicle in this area, you will however need an Adventure Pass.  To obtain an Adventure pass find the closest Forest Service location or go to any major sporting goods store.  The fees are $5 per day or $30 annual.  If you’d like to know more about the pass, read on the Forest Service Recreation Passes & Permits Website.

The Shell Station right off I-210 and CA-2 exit sells the Adventure Pass.

Trail Camp & Water

Little Jimmy Trail Camp/Little Jimmy Springs

Along this trail the only established trail camp is Little Jimmy Trail Camp.  If you feel like an extra night in the area, Little Jimmy sits just 2 miles off Angeles Crest Highway.  There are 16 established first-come, first-serve sites with fire rings.  The campground includes vault toilets, backcountry ovens and bear boxes.  The place is very popular with Boy Scout and Girl Scout troops, the two times I hiked in this area in the fall we passed by a few groups of scouts.

Angeles National Forest: Little Jimmy Trail Camp Information

Little Jimmy Springs is about a .2 miles walk away from the campground.  The water usually runs year round and is super cold.  This is a great spot to take a break quickly and fill up with water if you are running low on a longer hike.  Always make sure you take enough water either way.  We took about 3 liters of water each for 9 mile hike.

Maps, Books and Gear Recommendations

Topographic Map of Area: Trail Map Angeles High Country Map Book of Hikes in the Area: Trails of the Angeles: 100 Hikes in the San Gabriels

Gear Recommendations:

Obviously this isn’t everything I take on our hikes, check out What’s in My Backpack? for a compilation of some of the gear I have now.  Some of the items I would recommend for this hike, especially colder weather:

Hiking Poles: BLACK DIAMOND Alpine Carbon Cork Trekking Poles

Headband: Adidas Woman’s Tech Headband

Fleece Gloves: Columbia Sportswear Women’s Thermarator Glove

Down Jacket: Patagonia Down Sweater

Wind Breaker: REI Co-op Rainier Rain Jacket

Some food we took on the hike:

Protein: Starkist Salmon Creations Lemon & Dill and Tuna Creations Thai Chili Style

Mayonnaise for our tuna and salmon packets: Hellmann’s Food Real-Vraie Mayonnaise – We bought a pack of 75 so that every time we go we can just pick a couple out from our hiking food bin

Soup: Lipton Soup Secrets – Chicken Noodle Soup Mix with Diced White Chicken Meat

Bars: CLIF Bar Chocolate Chip and Crunchy Peanut Butter

Bananas mmmmm

*FYI the salmon and tuna packets, Lipton soup, CLIF bars are all available at local supermarkets.  I usually just buy on amazon in bulk since we go a lot and have hiking food bin.  What do you keep in your hiking food bin?

Interested in gear and food ideas?  See posts below for more.

[ihewc_oxi id=”20″]

Hike Stats

Trailhead 0 miles 6,800 feet Little Jimmy Trail Camp 2.1 miles 7,450 feet Little Jimmy Springs 2.3 miles 7,500 feet Windy Gap 2.4 miles 7,588 feet Mt. South Hawkins Turnoff 4.0 miles 8,390 feet Mt. Hawkins Turnoff 4.6 miles 8,730 feet Mt. Hawkins Summit 4.8 miles 8,850 feet

My Ramblings

I used to just write this portion of the blog, but decided since I do so much research why not create some guides of the information that I gather before I go out for these hikes.  Should I put my ramblings and photos first or should I keep them here at the end?  You guys let me know.

Alright, let’s move on and talk about this hike.  My sister and I haven’t been on a hike alone in a while; we’ve been with groups, but alone I think our last hike together was Peanut Lake, back in 2016.  Is that right?  I think so.  Either way I was blessed to have a hike together with my sister alone in our backyard mountains up in the San Gabriel’s.

We awoke early and left the house by 6:00am.  We were not much more than 10 minutes into the drive when I had to turn around to pick up the water bladder (Osprey Hydraulics Reservoir – 3 L).  If we were already to far into the drive we would have just picked up 3 L of water at the store nearby.  This wasn’t the only thing we forgot on the hike, just wait for it.

Arriving to the Trailhead

After exiting I-210 road to Angeles Crest highway, I remember I left my annual Adventure Pass in my car back at home.  So another thing I forgot, we stopped at the Shell station to pick a day pass up ($5.00).  As we were driving to go do Mt. Baden-Powell from Dawson Saddle, we arrived at a Road that was closed at Islip Saddle.  Not sure how we could have avoided not knowing, but they do post road closures on the county or forest websites.  Plan B, open my Angeles High Country Trail Map and find a new hike.

There are a few options at Islip Saddle, so we geared up and decided to go hike Mt. Hawkins.  I remember doing it a long time ago by myself, but thought it would be nice to check out the trail again with my sister and it was a little harder hike than we had planned, huge plus there we wanted a good workout.  We started up the trail around 9:00am which would give us ample time to take our time up the mountain and hang out at the top.

The first mile or two was more vertical than the rest of the trail.  We passed a lot of Boys & Girls Scout groups on our way up, probably stayed at Little Jimmy Trail Camp as it’s popular for the Scout groups to camp there on weekends.  Little Jimmy Camp is only about 2 miles up the trail and the trail flattens out on this portion of the hike.  We continued up towards Windy Gap making good time; Windy Gap sits at about 7,588 feet and offers 360 degree views of the surround mountains and valleys.  Here there are a few options, you could turn back, head up to Mt. Islip, head towards Crystal Lake Campground or head on the Mt. Hawkins Ridge Trail to summit Mt. Hawkins or even further to Throop, Burnham and Baden-Powell.

Summiting Mt. Hawkins

Our choice was to hike up to Mt. Hawkins which would make for a 2,050 foot climb total; I liked the sound of that.  11:30am we reached the summit of Mt. Hawkins.  We almost missed the turnoff; stay alert there is no sign for the turnoff to Mt. Hawkins.  I’m glad I was taking note of the mileage on the Garmin.  Did you know Mt. Hawkins is in the 11th highest peak in the San Gabriel’s?  We didn’t make the top 10 list, but that’s ok it’s a peak above 8,000 feet very good training hike for the bigger mountains.  I believe I just made a challenge for myself to knock off the top 10 in the San Gabriel’s.  What those are I’ll probably post later as I already have the 10,000 Feet Peaks in Southern California Challenge ahead of me.

Had to put on some warmer clothes as we were going to hang out on Mt. Hawkins for a little.  We wanted to make some soup and when I opened my bag I realized that I did not pack a fuel canister into my jetboil.  I usually keep one in there but since our last trip to Havasupai Falls we flew, I took it out and never put a new one in when I got back home.  Are you surprised yet?  That’s 3 things and counting so far that were forgotten on this hike.  Instead of a warm Lipton Soup Secrets we ended up having a couple mozzarella sticks and the Starkist Creations Lemon Dill and Thai Chili Style.

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  Down we went around 12:30pm so that we could hit the Newcomb’s Ranch for a snack before heading back home.  We didn’t pass too many people on the way down except a couple who was doing one night up at Baden-Powell.  About 1 mile from the trailhead my knee began to hurt, thanks to my sister who brought a brace I made it down in one piece.  It looks like I forgot one other thing, that makes for 4 things we forgot on this hike.  I should be wearing a brace every time I hike anyway so that will be added to my hiking checklist as a permanent item.

Reaching the Cars

It was about 2:30pm when we reached the cars and we changed quickly and headed down the mountain to go grab a quick bite to eat.  Newcomb’s Ranch closes pretty early, so this is the first time I could actually sit inside and have a nice relaxing refreshing drink and a snack.  Usually we get here as they are closing or already closed.  My sister and I love these kinds of places; little gems hidden up in the mountains.  Lots of motorcyclists like to end up here on their rides on the Angeles Crest Highway; we even saw some bicyclists who were brave enough to do that long ride in.

Well, I hope you enjoyed the write-up.  What is the most common thing that you think most hikers (newbies or avid) forget on hikes?  Let me know in the comments below.  If you’ve done this hike before go ahead and comment below and let me know your experiences; I hope we can share more on here together.

Happy Adventures,

Annette – Beyond Limits on Foot

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Mt. Hawkins (8,850') in the Angeles National Forest. From Islip Saddle, 9.6 miles round trip, 2050' elevation gain. 11th highest peak in the San Gabriels. **Originally hiked: October 18, 2018** Trail Data

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Mark & Georgia’s 2018 Philippines Trip

Here we go again, another trip, another blog. For those of you familiar with our recent Road Trip blog this will be of a different sort because it’s going to be a different sort of trip, a mix of business and pleasure. We’ll be based at Georgia’s mom’s house in Manila, making a series of short trips here and there over the next month. Hopefully it will result in some interesting thoughts and photos.

Day 1:  Graeagle to Sunnyvale to San Jose to SFO

Seems like I was driving all day, although it was a pleasant drive until I got close to the Bay Area into all the traffic. I’ve really gotten used to the “traffic” in Graeagle, where it’s unusual to see more than 3 cars in town. At Georgia’s suggestion I drove straight to EBR for a visit with my old colleagues and to check up on how things are going there. Quite well it seems, with a number of development projects underway, what we engineers like. But everyone seems to be really stressed with all the clinical and regulatory related tasks on their plates now. That’s what I knew would be coming with the US clinical trial, and I’m even more certain I picked the right time to retire.

Took an hour in that lovely traffic to drive from EBR to Georgia’s sister Dinah’s house (all of 12-13 miles) and another hour to drive to SJC and back for Georgia to return her rental car (she had flown there last week). An hour to pack Georgia’s stuff and back on the road to SFO. In our Road Trip blog it was noted that Georgia has trouble packing light and this trip is no exception.

The box weights 69.5 pounds (carefully titrated as the airline limit is 70), the black suitcase is about 55 pounds, the red carry-on is acceptably light. Not shown is a backpack. Yes she has problems packing light. OK, to give her a break, since we’ll be in Manila on Thanksgiving, the box contains a frozen turkey, ham, and all the fixings for a proper Thanksgiving dinner, things that you can’t get in the Philippines. Plus a LOT of other goodies for her mom, our snorkel gear, etc..  She got her standby cleared quickly, got her ‘luggage’ checked with a few stares from the baggage handlers, and was soon off to her flight to Hong Kong.

With my flight to Tokyo in the morning, I overnighted at an inexpensive motel near SFO,  one that turned out to be unexpectedly nice. At least I wasn’t itching in the morning.

In case you don’t know, in the interest of national security we don’t fly together. That’s not really it… Georgia flies Cathay Pacific since she gets family privileges from her sister Vinee, a CP flight attendant. Georgia pays a ridiculously low fare for business class. I fly United since I spent so much time with my butt in their seats for business travel I can buy the cheapest economy fare and use my miles to upgrade.

Day 2: SFO to Hong Kong (Georgia) and Tokyo (Mark)

Both of us had very bumpy flights, on mine the seat belt sign was on most of the time, and the flight attendants were told to buckle up multiple times. Didn’t stop me from eating and drinking my way across the Pacific though; I arrived in Tokyo fully stuffed. Georgia reports the same on arrival to HK.

Flying in the front of the plane is the only way to go; I fear the day when my miles run out. Georgia may have to take a job with an airline so I can get family privileges. Anyway, she’s continuing on to Manila this afternoon while I’m overnighting in Tokyo at another airport hotel and flying on to Manila tomorrow morning. The flight with a 19-hour layover is a lot cheaper than one with a short connection, saving much more than the cost of a hotel. That’s a good enough reason but I admit to being a travel wuss, I like having this break to get cleaned up and rested. No reason to hurry!

Day 3: Tokyo to Manila

Easy travel day to Manila for Mark; couldn’t sleep so got up early and went to the airport (a 2 min walk from my hotel) and had breakfast at the nice ANA lounge. Smooth flight to Manila but with the usual holding pattern on arrival. I’ve never flown into that airport without doing at least a few circles. I think the airport planners are the same people who planned the traffic control in Manila.

Speaking of Manila traffic, shortly after I arrived we needed to drive Georgia’s mom to meet with the family attorney to have some documents notarized. Off we went to Alabang, one of Manila’s districts, with Mark driving and only a vague idea of where we were going… after many calls to the attorney we finally decided we’d never find the meeting spot and just parked and told him where we were. He knew the area well and was able to find us. By the time we headed back home it was dark, which makes driving in Manila even more terrifying. People all over the place, motorcycles, trikes, and jeepneys pulling in and out and stopping wherever and whenever. Feels like you’re inside a video game. Luckily we got home before we ran out of lives; Mark quickly headed to the fridge to grab a much-needed San Mig.

Sorry for not having more pictures, but there havn’t been many photo opportunities up to this point. Things will pick up in a day or two.

Day 4: Manila to Tacloban

A couple errands this morning then back to the house to pack our bags for a 3-night trip (nice light luggage this time!) then to the airport for a quick flight to Tacloban on Leyte island. A couple days of business to conduct here and in Catbalogan on the nearby island of Samar. You probably remember Tacloban from the 2013 super-typhoon Haiyan (Yolanda in the Philippines). Tacloban was the center of devastation from this storm. The city was all but destroyed; nearly 6000 perished in this city alone. Flying in we could see one of the reasons the storm wreaked such havoc – the city and territory surrounding it are very level and low-lying, stretching flat many miles until the mountains are reached. Besides the winds which removed nearly every roof in the city, storm surges of up to 20 feet did the most damage, including completely leveling the airport we flew into. We didn’t know what to expect, but were pleased to see a strongly recovering city and meet a few people whose strength, determination, and pride are readily apparent. There are still a few reminders of the storm, we saw 4 or 5 abandoned, gutted, roofless buildings, but almost all traces are gone and the city has been rebuilt, at least on the roads we passed.

In a striking contrast to Manila, traffic here is very civilized. Our taxi driver actually stopped and let another car enter a roundabout before him! To regress a bit and explain Manila traffic, in the US we drive (most of us at least) by the lines on the road and by rules where for every situation the right of way is defined. Right of way in Manila is determined by which car can squeeze a millimeter in front of the other. Georgia has remarked that it’s a great waste by the government painting lines on the roads as no attention whatsoever is paid to the lines, the number of lanes being defined by the number of cars, trucks, and motorcycles that can possibly squeeze side to side within, and often beyond, the edges of the roadway. It can seem like total chaos, but carnage and catastrophic accidents are minimal as traffic speeds using these principles are generally reduced to a crawl.  Vendors in flipflops can walk in between and around cars without fear of being run over as they can move faster than the cars can.  It surprisingly works as long as you’re in no hurry to get somewhere.

A side note... if you like a glass of wine or two, finding it can be challenging as the Philippines is not at all a wine-drinking nation. Interestingly enough, grape cultivation and winemaking were brought to California by the Spanish Catholic priests and followed the path of the missions. Yet with 300 years of Philippine colonization by the Spanish, grape growing appears to have been unsuccessful here and wine can be difficult to find.

Normally we don’t worry about it and settle for a cold San Miguel. This evening Georgia was craving a glass before dinner so we asked at the hotel desk where we could find a bar or restaurant that could help us get a fix, and we were pointed to a place across the street.  Georgia was excited when the menu had a small wine list, including two Cabernets and a Merlot. She asked for one of the Cabernets; the waitress said she had to go check if they had it. She came back shortly and apologized, saying they were out of that wine. Georgia asked for the other Cabernet. Sorry we’re out of that one too. OK, what about the Merlot? Sorry ma’am, we’re out of the Merlot too. Do you have any wines? No ma’am, we’re out of all wines. Amusing to us at least as this is a recurring story – we’ve even seen nice restaurants in large hotels in Manila, with impressive wine lists, unable to produce anything but a Barefoot Bynum red. Maybe Georgia goes to work for an airline, and Mark starts a wine import business. We finally got a lead for a nice Italian restaurant, which had a good selection of Italian wines. An excellent dinner and Georgia finally got her wine! Another thing you wouldn’t expect here is great Italian food – we both feel that we’ve found some of the best outside of Italy, in restaurants started by Italian ex-pats who have been captured by Filipina wives (or vice-versa)! I can understand that. 😊

Day 5:  Tacloban to Catbalogan

This morning’s business was a meeting with the local head of the Philippines Land Bank. This is a government-chartered organization obtaining land and re-selling to farmers. The income from the farmer’s loans funds the acquisition of property. The subject transactions here are about 165 hectares (400+ acres) of family-owned property in Catbalogan, much of which has been settled on by squatters/farmers. This is the type of land the Land Bank is trying to get, to officially distribute to the squatters and make them legal taxpayers. The family has been trying for many years to deed the property over and receive payment. Many frustrating years, always being told that this document or the other is needed; when that’s produced there’s always another. And then the next time they go back, the official they were working with isn’t there any more and no one has any recollection of previous actions.

The meeting went well, it seems that the government is making an effort to centralize and simplify these things, for example going forward this can be handled through the office in Manila rather than having to travel to Tacloban. According to the official very little is left to do before this can be completed. Georgia warns that we shouldn’t count on this assurance yet.

Now we’re tourists for the afternoon – our driver picks us up from the Land Bank and we head towards Catbalogan. We’d hired a driver and car for the day to take us around on our errands and then deliver us to Catbalogan, about 110 km from Tacloban. On the way he drove us through one of the areas hardest hit by the typhoon, a low-lying seaside area of shanty homes. You may remember seeing post-typhoon pictures of a large freighter sitting on land quite a way from the water – rather than removing the whole thing they left it in place, some 300 meters from the water, built some structure around it and turned it into a memorial for the Typhoon victims. Strange to see a freighter in the neighborhood but a fitting tribute.

The disturbing part of it though is the neighborhood. The whole area was completely swept bare, but it’s been rebuilt as it was, with poorly constructed shacks of wood and tin. That’s how the people lived before, and what they know, but it’s a shame that the government didn’t help relocate them or at least build more substantial homes.

We drive over the San Juanico bridge which links Leyte and Samar islands, the longest bridge in the Philippines, built during the Marcos regime. Current president Duterte plans to build a longer one (mine’s longer than yours!) linking Luzon to Visayas but it hasn’t been built yet. Following the bridge is a winding 2-hour drive up the mountains and back down into Catbalogan.

Catbalogan is a city “in the provinces”. I’d heard that term before but wasn’t sure what Filipinos were referring to – the meaning is similar but more polite sounding than our euphemism “out in the boonies”. It’s a busy city, but very remote and without many of the amenities you find in the larger cities. We’re booked at the most expensive hotel in town: a “deluxe triple room” with private bath is $34/night. The room is cozy with a double and a single bed and not much space to move around, but the hotel is spotlessly clean, due we think to the army of OJT (on-job-training) helpers from a local high school. At least 20 of these always-smiling faces are constantly cleaning and re-cleaning, each one stopping to give us a warm greeting whenever we appear, coming or going.

To me, Catbalogan is the “city of trikes”. Manila has a lot of trikes, but this city is totally clogged with them, and they’re all in (slow) motion all the time. Both motor- and human-powered, passenger trikes and delivery, they’re everywhere. Colorful, each has been customized by its owner, with the owner’s name and often a favorite bible verse or a personal testament to the glory of God emblazoned on front or back. Some busses and delivery trucks are also on the streets, but few private cars. Why would you need one? A noisy and bumpy ride on a motor trike costs 8 pesos (about 15 cents) to take you anywhere in the city. The pedal trikes are the economy ride, only 7 pesos. We go first class!

You can play a quick video of a trike ride in Catbalogan here:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/3SMSh43GFNhmnvf79

Day 6:  Catbalogan

Business day #2 with visits to the Registry of Deeds (task is to get the deed to the property annotated with the names of the new settlers), then to the Department of Agrarian Reform (task unknown). Conference with Georgia’s sister in the US and back to the DAR to ask for a map of the new property division. Both the ROD and DAR have promised to have the documents ready tomorrow morning so back we’ll go.

While here in Catbalogan we’ve been “taken care of” by a family that is linked to Georgia’s by a long friendship. Third-generation daughter Bayan has been helpful getting us to the various appointments; today we met Lola (grandmother) Noling, the family matriarch, at her electronics and appliance store she’s been running for 65 years. She’s 87 and going strong, no hurry to retire. We were chatting in the store and asked if they knew a place that had good Tomalos – a Filipino take on the tamale with rice “masa” around a pork filling, coated with peanut butter, then wrapped in banana leaf and steamed. With typical Filipino hospitality, it seemed only minutes before table and chairs were pulled out and Tamalos and Lumpia appeared for us to try. Different, delicious, and RICH! Georgia and I couldn’t quite finish a whole one. And also in true Filipino fashion just as we were putting our forks down we were asked what we’d like for lunch. Oh jeez, didn’t we just finish lunch? Lola Noling definitely wanted to take us out so we agreed to dinner, we’ll meet her at the store around closing time.

Dinner was at a nice restaurant right on the harbor, with Lola Noling, daughter Collette (Bayan’s mom), two of her sons Bong and Jun, Bayan, and a few more family members. A feast of delicious food, more than enough beer, hilarious conversation with her sons trying to speak English and me trying to understand Taglish – it was one of those amazing times that leaves you with a smile, a warm heart, and a new family.

Day 7:  Catbalogan to Tacloban to Manila

Georgia thinks I’m writing too much. Maybe I’m trying to find things to write about in the absence of any real interesting travel. I’ll keep it short today.

Two more appointments this morning. First back at the DAR to pick up maps of the property. This visit was successful. Then an appointment at the Registry of Deeds to meet with the registrar whom Georgia had an appointment with yesterday but she wasn’t in the office. She was most helpful (not) explaining the number of documents that still needed to be completed and 2 new cities we would have to visit to get this done. One step forward, 2 back.

We took a shared ride van back to Tacloban, through rain most of the way. The highlight of the day was a 30 minute trike ride from the van terminal to the airport, in the rain. Remember, these things don’t have doors – Mark held an umbrella out as a door/windshield and managed to stay pretty dry. His luggage tied to the back of the trike didn’t fare quite as well.

Day 8:  Manila to Nasugbu

Finally! Today we made the 2 ½ hour drive from Manila to Nasugbu, the location of Kawayan Cove and our house-to-be. This is the third time we’ve made this drive ourselves (no driver) and it’s starting to seem familiar, at least when we get out of Manila and onto the Cavite Expressway heading south. Today I got very much the same feeling as when I drive from the Bay Area to Graeagle, with lots of traffic and the associated stress until we reach Auburn, about halfway there. After that it’s an enjoyable drive through the mountains and pine forests the rest of the way. This was very similar – through Manila, Cavite, all the way to Naic it’s a lot of traffic and those ever-annoying trikes. Past Naic you enter the mountains, tropical jungle rather than pine trees, and all the traffic, trikes, and stress disappear. Finally we get our first view of the Batangas coast, and get that peaceful feeling that we’re getting close to home.

We’re staying for three nights at Punta Fuego, a members-only golf and residential club just up the coast from Kawayan Cove. Luckily one of Georgia’s brother-in-law’s parents are members here and can make reservations for us at one of the club’s guest “casitas”.

Lovely place with a lot of different beaches and nice amenities – we looked at properties here but as this is one of the older developments along this coast all of the better lots are already taken, and we had our hearts set on an ocean view. Not to mention the prices, and the monthly dues, and all that…

Tomorrow we get to see our house for the first time!

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600 Chateau V Evergreen CO Stunning Luxury Home in Evergreen

Best Luxury Real Estate in CO: 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO - Luxury Living In the Denver Foothills

600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO is one of the most luxurious homes to hit the Evergreen luxury market in years. This amazing home has been listed for a little while and has been reduced in price over the last year or so.

Why 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO is the best luxury home in Colorado

This luxurious property at 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO has an incredible 10,000 square foot lot and is a rare combination of large lot size and mountain views. It is situated in the coveted Ken Wright Addition, a beautiful community filled with trees and winding gravel roads. The gorgeous rolling hills look like you’re a million miles away from civilization! It is one of the most beautiful homes to hit the Evergreen luxury market in years. This amazing home has been listed for a little while and has been reduced in price over the last year or so. This is fantastic luxury living located in one of the most desirable areas in Colorado, Evergreen in the Denver Foothills. The home has an amazing kitchen and fireplace that face a private patio with a secluded outdoor spa.

More Images of Chateau V

600 Chateau V Evergreen, CO

The History of Chateau V

More Images of Chateau V The 600 Chateau V road home was built in the 1980's by famed builder, Brad Westhoff. Over the years it has been beautifully updated with the main floor still featuring the original fireplace, built-ins, light fixtures, tile floor and cabinets. The entire kitchen has been updated and now features granite counters and the same gorgeous cabinets as well as an abundance of custom features and appliances. The Master bedroom has an enormous custom shower with a step out with views of the picturesque outside of the home. There is also a covered patio with 2 lounge chairs and table. This patio offers views of the swimming pool, spa and outdoor fireplace.

More about Chateau V

Luxury living in the Denver Foothills Great living space with all the bells and whistles Plenty of space Good size home with acreage Lots of privacy and space Great family home in the gorgeous Denver Foothills Lots of space Beautiful views Outstanding custom home with great design Condo in town Denver is a short drive away for some great city life and far enough away for privacy and open space Over $1 Million Best Luxury Real Estate in NV: 7700 Kennebec Way Boulder, CO - Large and Gorgeous Las Vegas Homes in Boulder County 7700 Kennebec Way Boulder, CO is a two-story, three bedroom home with incredible views and 1/2 acre of land with trails. This is a stunning Boulder County mountain view home.

Specifications of Chateau V

Located approx.. 1 hour from DIA, 45 mins. to downtown Denver and less than 2 hours to Vail, this premium Evergreen property boasts the finest views of Mt. Evans on the front range while basking in ultimate privacy on its 35 acre site. With main level living, the home lives well for a couple and easily accommodates a large family. Modeled after the Biltmore Mansion in Asheville, NC, with central courtyard, stone-carved statues, dormers, lit colonnade of columns, pitched roof lines and turrets, the 4-story structure has limestone faade, solid limestone twin stairways, steel beam / concrete structure to form each level, 8 baths and 6 en-suite bedrooms-4 of which are master suite quality with 5-piece baths, walk-in closets and private washers / dryers; 5th is a full apartment with complete kitchen. In-floor radiant heat is supplemented by a forced air heating system + 5 A / C units for cooling. Lutron electronics system provides wireless control for lights, heat and Sonos audio. Black / white marble flooring gives a reflective pallet for the changing light of the Colorado sky. 6 custom designed limestone fireplaces grace the bedrooms, great room, office and exterior west-facing loggia. World class kitchens show stopper is the self-supporting ceramic tiled vault and arch system ceiling patented by Spanish architect Rafael Guastavino in 1892. La Couture French 5-burner gas cooktop with pot filler, 2 Bosch dishwashers, Viking microwave, SubZero wine cooler, 2 SubZero refrigerated drawers, Gaggenau steam double ovens and refrigerator / freezer towers, Wood Stove commercial pizza oven plus walk-in pantry satisfy every chefs dream! Temperature controlled wine cellar features back-lit wine rack and slab granite bar. Polycarbonate roof has the look of slate and a life-time warranty. Roof top deck. 4, 400 s.f. of unfin. space designed for the addition of an indoor / outdoor pool, huge entertainment space, media room or gym. Furnishings and TV included (with few art / accessory exclusions). Extraordinary widescreen chef’s kitchen has SOREL quartz counters, Wolf 6 burner gas cook top, Bosch convection microwave, viking appliance package, butler’s pantry with full commercial garbage disposal. Upstairs master suite is enormous with two master baths, all the latest “mechanical home system” with smart door locks, security, alarms, electricity, and satellite TV. The outdoor space is incredible with over 42 acres, heated salt water lap pool, golf cart garages, playground, walking trails, barbecue, pavilion, and much more. It’s a must see! Open house is July 15, 2017, from 1:00pm to 3:00pm If you have any questions please contact Danny Skelly at Orosn Hill Realty in Evergreen.

Best Luxury Real Estate in CO: 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO - Luxury Living In the Denver Foothills

600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO is one of the most luxurious homes to hit the Evergreen luxury market in years. This amazing home has been listed for a little while and has been reduced in price over the last year or so.

Why 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO is the best luxury home in Colorado

With this amazing home's location in Evergreen, you are in the perfect setting to enjoy the advantages of Colorado's state-of-the-art amenities. Not only is there a terrific ski resort less than half an hour away, but it's right down the road from Evergreen's quaint and upscale downtown. Who would want to buy this incredible home? You won't believe the historic charm and size of this property, which has been meticulously designed to include a 5,900 square foot home with five bedrooms and four and a half bathrooms. What makes this luxury home even more spectacular is the beautiful interior of this incredible property that features several bedrooms and bathrooms, gourmet kitchen and living room, elegant and spacious master suite with a beautiful fireplace and balcony with amazing views.

The History of Chateau V

As we mentioned, 600 Chateau V Road is located in Evergreen, Colorado which is known for its beauty and scenic views of the Rockies. This is a destination for a number of families because Evergreen has some of the most beautiful parks and paths that are within a short drive of the town. This is great for families with children because they can get out and explore nature in all of its glory. The Home’s History What many will say is most impressive about this property is that it is built in the classic Chateau style, but in the late 1960s which was quite the architectural era for architecture. This particular property has been completely remodeled and updated as part of the 2015 renovation.

About of Chateau V

This incredible home has some of the best features on the market today. The view from the deck is stunning, the covered patio is perfect for your evening entertainment and the lush landscaping offers some of the best outdoor seating. Offering custom cabinets and display, custom built bar, solar system and concrete floors. Amenities Sitting on over 1.7 acres with six bedrooms and six full and two half baths.

What are the benefits of living in Evergreen?

Are you looking for a place to start a new adventure in Colorado? Evergreen is where you need to start your journey to the Denver Foothills and all of the amazing outdoor recreation available. Is your passion all about health and wellness? Evergreen is one of the best places to call home and be surrounded by incredible land and water to keep you on the path of being healthy and strong. Are you looking for an amazing playground to call home? This incredible home has plenty of space for your children or for your grandchildren to play while you relax and enjoy the view of the Rocky Mountains from the comfort of your cozy home. Do you want to move to Colorado to enjoy all of the amazing air quality?

Luxury Living In the Denver Foothills

600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO is one of the most luxurious homes to hit the Evergreen luxury market in years. This amazing home has been listed for a little while and has been reduced in price over the last year or so. This is fantastic luxury living located in one of the most desirable areas in Colorado, Evergreen in the Denver Foothills

Why 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO is the best luxury home in Colorado

Evergreen is one of the most desirable places in the Denver Foothills. Located in beautiful open space, there are tons of fantastic outdoor activities available here, and this location is accessible by car or flight. 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO offers plenty of amazing features, and is being sold for a lot less than it would normally cost for a home this large. The home offers more than 7,000 square feet of luxury living, offering four bedroom suites, a spa, billiard room, three-car garage, and outdoor living spaces. It’s also a short drive to all of the towns Evergreen has to offer: Cherry Creek, Elizabeth, Downtown Evergreen, and many more. It’s a perfect home for anyone in Colorado to enjoy great outdoor living on one of the most gorgeous sites in the Denver Foothills.

The History of Chateau V

For any real estate enthusiast there are a lot of things to think about when buying a home. There is one thing that makes this home unique and that is it was the first ski resort in the area. The very first address for an area is what you should consider when buying a home with historic significance. 600 Chateau V was the very first home ever listed for sale in Evergreen, Colorado. It is located in an area that is very unique to this area of the country. Nestled in the heart of Evergreen The home sits in a very unique area of the city of Evergreen. This is a true luxury mountain property. You are surrounded by picturesque homes and surrounding a lush green golf course.

Benefits of Chateau V

Located in one of the most beautiful locations in the state of Colorado, 600 Chateau V offers all of the benefits that a luxury Colorado residence has to offer. If you are looking for a luxury Colorado home, you could not do better than this home. If you are looking for a luxury home in Evergreen, Colorado, I would suggest putting this home on your short list as well. Best Luxury Real Estate in CO: 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO - Luxury Living 600 Chateau V Road Evergreen, CO is located just off State Highway 267 on the banks of the Rocky Fork Lake. This is a great place to live and in the Denver Foothills area is surrounded by many other fabulous luxury homes as well. This is a very well maintained home that has all of the details that you would expect in a well built home.

What are the benefits of living in Evergreen?

All that mountain air...Yes, there is a ton of open space out here, and even a little wildlife around, but no matter. This is one of the most diverse and beautiful cities in Colorado. Have you seen the snow in Denver? Ever been up to Red Rocks Amphitheatre and felt like you’re on top of the world? Ever been out to the Mount Evans Scenic Byway and felt like you are riding a bullet train to the moon? Ever taken a scenic drive along Highway 34 that starts out in Leadville and ends in Golden? Ever been to a showing at the Evergreen Theatre? Ever sat in a lake at a four star hotel on the west side of the city, and watched the sun rise? It’s all here. Beautiful, peaceful, open spaces surrounded by an abundance of nature.

Location of 600 Chateau V Evergreen CO

Evergreen in the Denver Foothills What People are Saying About 600 Chateau V Evergreen: “Attention all developers out there, 600 Chateau V has everything you could ask for in a dream home. Located on a gated 1.4 acre lot, this spectacular property has lots of features including a 4 car garage with a 2nd garage apartment. The spacious double-pane windows add a luxury touch to the interior and the estate style brick and stone exterior is the perfect setting for your dream home. The main level features an open floor plan, a Great Room, an eat-in kitchen, formal dining, a study with 2 walls of built-ins and 2 upstairs bedrooms with a cozy loft area.

Community and Schools

"Our aim is to provide a unique lifestyle experience to our residents at our Evergreen luxury condominiums. The amenities at 600 Chateau V Road, combined with the convenience of being able to experience high-end living within close proximity to the Rocky Mountain National Park, is perfect for many who want to live in the heart of nature," said Mike Boland, Vice President of Lifestyle Management, Inc. The impressive amenities include: 7-Bath Residence: 600 Chateau V Road: 7-Bath Residence Built with technology and design in mind, this 7-bedroom residence has been built with a design that can easily adapt to a multitude of lifestyles. This home has been built with options such as a gas fireplace, in-suite media room, custom built-in cabinetry, and large-format windows to name a few.

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