99 Bottles Brew Tour: Village Corner Tavern

What had been a pretty cohesive group for the afternoon became a scattered free-for-all, with everyone trying to get into their respective vehicles and out of the parking lot all at once. I'm not sure what the temperature was, but it was probably hovering around 42°, with a wind chill around 32°. My truck, which is dark green and absorbs sun-heat quite well, was very warm inside — and when my wind-burned face got inside... man, it was like getting seared in a hot frying pan!

And when I got inside the restaurant, holy cow: from the frying pan into the convection oven! I could barely stand to be inside! Anyway, it turns out the minor issue at the restaurant was just that: minor.

We had two large tables arranged in the bar and two smaller ones in the back room, so with that checked on I went back out to my truck to remove some layers of insulation (too bad I can't that off my body! eek!) and gather up all the STUFF I had to bring inside.

I had my bag with the customary 99 Bottles Brew Tour stamps, logbooks, markers and pencils, plus a couple of travelers, and my Speedball with sharpening equipment. Add to that two freshly-planted boxes we had pulled so we could make it to the restaurant on time — and the stamps and logbooks for five of the first six 99 Bottles boxes. Then there was my camera, and my boxing field bag... crikey, that's a lot of stuff to bring in, but it's always worth it, especially for these guys: Bookwormct and Mark & Sue!

At first all the GA people (and by that I mean those on the Summit Tour, such as Sweet n Sassy and MyMojo, plus Oread and MaineMom, and a couple of others, all of whom know each other fairly well) sat at one table; at one point someone suggested we spread out so we could mingle with the Others (aka out-of-towners). I think at first I was the only one to switch tables to the back room, and even then it was only because I need more room for all that STUFF!!

Drinks were served promptly — a couple folks had the Highland Gaelic Ale, an appropriate choice given the theme of the day. I started with a Duvel (though by the time this photo of myself with Rex and Cherokee Rose was taken, I was drinking a doppelbock). From that point on, more boxers came in pretty regularly. Eventually nearly everyone who signed up (save 2?) made it to the Event. We actually had to commandeer a couple extra tables! And the REAL locals who thought they could walk in and be seated right away were in for a surprise!

Eidolon, Artemis and Chimega occupied a spot at the bar for a short time before they were booted into the chaotic stamping frenzy that ensued shortly after somebody asked me, "Can we start stamping those boxes we grabbed?" And the event stamp, too, silly!

Now, as far as food goes, the Village Corner has a great selection of German dishes, going far beyond the "brats and kraut" that typifies German cuisine in the States. I know appetizers were ordered here and there, and I saw a lot of salads (good for you Tiger Pride, Barefootlucy and catface! :-). But while I was chatting with Mark and Sue, somebody in the back room ordered (I believe) the Racklette, a pungent melted Racklette cheese!

I didn't see it go past, but as I walked by the table where some GA boxers (Judith, karmakat and Beachcomber) were gathered, I got my first whiff of it. Phew! PUN-GENT that dish was! I asked, "All right, who over here farted!?" Amid the responding laughter, I heard, "Must have been the waitress who just went by!"

Upon entering the back room, my nose was assaulted by the pungency. Rex and Eli were just beside themselves. Aubrey had a greenish tinge to her skin, but Absentee seemed to be eyeing the plate before him with delight (and perhaps chuckling to himself for inflicting this devious nasal punishment?).

See here... that dish is a perfect example of how you get people OUT of a room! Rojo Cuello and the letterboxer formerly known as Inspector Gadget were sitting in the back room at my table. But when that Racklette arrived -- shoot, they bolted from the room and paid a visit to the first table they got to! Comment: "Holy cow! It smells like everyone in that room just cut the cheese!"

Desi and Darren (drgdlg), freshly moved back to GA from SC (unpacked yet???) came to the event and brought their little girl, Raileigh (awww!! :-). At this point I should note that this venue wasn't all that noisy, as Raileigh was seen sleeping soundly in her infant car seat a little while later!

99 Bottles Brew Tour newbies boxhound from Peachtree City (along with catface) rubbed elbows tableside with Sandibox (and Barefootlucy, see five photos up), and there was a lot more mingling as dinners were demolished and drinks kept flowing. One can only imagine that the conversation ranged through all manner of topics associated with letterboxing: carving, hiking locales, found boxes...

At the end of the evening, after Mark and Sue and everyone else departed, there were just a few of us left: myself, MaineMom, Tiger Pride, Sandibox, Rojo Cuello and Inspector Gadget (dude, don't drop the name... too cool! Now, if only you had a go-go-Gadget letterbox detector...) and catface and boxhound. And (heh) I was the LAST one to order anything to eat. I was just too busy gabbing and drinking, and by the time I was ready to order, I didn't want much of anything. So I ordered a basket of chips.

What? you say... yep... a basket of chips (American-style). Fried up right there in the kitchen and served with a garlicy-herb ranch (I think). Some of the best chips I've ever had -- and being in the (snack) food packaging industry, I've sampled LOTS of chips -- the BEST I've ever had were from this little company in Missouri who cut their potatoes the LONG way and kettle-cooked them. Oh my freakin word... go look 'em up: Spudmaster Colossal Chips. (Heh... I HAD to connect to the corporate VPN and find the leads from a 2006 trade show to bring you that link...)

Finally... at the very end of the evening, before those who were left ventured back into Stone Mountain Park for some (freezin'!) night (freezin'!) boxing (freezin'!), there was one thing left to do. Whenever the 99 Bottles Brew Tour stops at location other than Taco Mac, I've endeavored to plant a traditional box for the venue rather than provide an event stamp. So the 99 Bottles: Village Corner Tavern letterbox resides where it should! Now... here's the cool thing. I learned that the daughter of Hilde and Claus, proprietors of the establishment, recently started letterboxing, so Hilde knows all about it!

Hilde and Claus (and their daughter?) were sitting at a table in a cozy alcove. I walked over, pardoned my interruption of their dinner, and said, "Ms. Hilde, this evening I learned that your daughter is a letterboxer, and that you have learned all about it. Tonight, we had people from all over Georgia, from Texas, South Carolina and Connecticut here in your restaurant for a letterboxers' gathering. I don't know if you've gone out with your daughter to find any letterboxes... but now you have one of your own." And I presented Hilde and Claus with the Village Corner Tavern letterbox, which is a wooden Romeo y Julieta cigar box.

The look on her face... priceless.

We'll be back. Memorial Day weekend 2009. See you there.

February '09 Summit Tour

"38.7 degrees!?" That was the temperature listed for a civilian weather station a few miles north of Stone Mtn. Park. Cold, yes, but sunny.

I left work a little after 11:30 and as soon as I got on the road my phone started ringing. I normally hate (yes, I'm using that word) cell phoning while driving, but the commencement of the Summit Tour was in less than 30 minutes, and the hikers were trying to get a hold of me. Thankfully I wasn't moving very fast... having to drive through a "truck zone" can be slow at times (and they always go ridiculously slow when you're in a hurry).

Arrival meant introductions, greetings, distribution of clues and the obligatory group photo, taken by T Rex.

Left to right, we have: Amyrica, Mark4, StarSAELS, Sandibox, Barefoot Luci, 123 Family, Oread, Mark and Sue, bookwormct, Sweet n Sassy and MyMojo.

We set off with a reading of the story of Scottie MacIncheese, the intrepid drunk Scotsman who stormed Stone Mountain one day back in October. StarSAELS provided live narration, complete with Scottish accent AND singing "Beer, Beer, Beer" (and is still wondering why no one else wanted to sing along... geez!) all the way to the first box on the itinerary — 99 Bottles: Highland Gaelic Ale. On a sad note, barefootluci had to turn back before we arrived at the first box. She had wrenched her knee the previous day and walking sideways on an uneven slope was unbearable (been there, done that... it's painful!!).

I had suspected that ice was going to be a factor, as it had rained two days earlier and nighttime temps since then had been in the 20°s. Ground water seeping from the stone in many places had frozen in its rivulets, necessitating extra caution and slowing our progress. I pointed out a safe, sunny open area where the group could gather while Nate retrieved the letterbox.

Nate also retrieved -- permanently -- the 99 Bottles: Bass Ale letterbox. While everyone stamped in, I went to get a few photos of the incredible icicles on a ledge nearby. The grandest of these icicles was over three feet long!

A quick scouting of the slope ahead revealed significant ice coverage, so I decided to detour from Scottie's route and take the path that parallels the Walk-Up Trail. It's shorter, mostly dirt and an easier ascent, which turned out to be a good thing for Mark's back (more on that later).

So while I was spared live narration — and singing "Old Dun Cow" — while ascending the Cherokee Trail on the north slope, we missed Scottie's dance for the train passengers and his doggie doodie dilemma. We picked up the story at the next location, but it didn't have the same charm.

Amyrica volunteered to tiptoe downhill and retrieve the 99 Bottles: Breckenridge IPA box (with tongs???) while the rest of the gang waited in the sun. Nate retrieved (permanently) the 99 Bottles: Wild Hop Lager box from the rocks you see behind Mark and Sue.

While everyone stamped in, Sweet n Sassy regaled the group with the story of how they were able to find a letterbox that only one other person was likely to find!

Onwards and upwards, along the longest uninterrupted section of the trail, we hiked. I saved the narration of Scottie's trail mishaps until we reached the proper stage: a landmark in the clues to the Devil's Crossroads box. This allowed conversation to run freely, and it varied widely from one end of the line to the other.

Once the wee devil had been properly tucked back in its hiding place, we caught up with Scottie as he had a big slapstick moment (read the story, you'll get it), and then the story continued, sans song. By that point Scottie had finished singing "The Scotsman". But that's okay, because once we reached the 99 Bottles: Breckenridge ESB box I retrieved an MP3 player and a set of small speakers from my backpack and played the songs featured in the story...

"Beer, Beer, Beer" by the Pogues; "Old Dun Cow" by Brobdingnagian Bards and "The Scotsman" by The Irish Rovers (though why it came up as being performed by John Denver, I don't know.).

Nate, 123F and I marched off to hunt down a Kitty and check the proximity of a geocache (no worries), and then it was, up up and away! Our interlude in the tale of Scottie MacIncheese (aka Soggy McCheeto (heh)) began with one less hiker, however. Mark had to, much to his and our dismay, take leave from the group due to a luggage-inflicted back injury. We offered to cut the summit off the route, but Mark, a true gentleman, insisted that we press on without him — you were sorely missed, friend! We learned later that Rex saved the day - he came up to the 'halfway house', gave Mark a pep talk and took him out to the gnarliest tree on the rock, the famed Dragon Bonsai.

The second tricky triangulation test was the hunt for the Squeeeezebox, which is now safe in a new container. We quickly made our way up to Eagle's Home, which we yanked from its hide and brought up to the summit with us to save a little time. After a few minutes admiring the distant vistas and vernal pools at the summit (and hunting for those geodetic benchmarks!), we tracked down the first of the Top of the Rock boxes. With two boxes for most of the hikers to stamp into, I had time to compile this gorgeous 360° panoramic:

Box safely stowed, we moved on to pull 99 Bottles: Titan IPA from its roost atop the rock, and then went to find the third Top of the Rock box. Uh... okay... 123F, Oread and Mark4 went to find the third box... the rest of us caught up to them! ;-)

Now, you'd think that being at the summit means, "no place to go but down", but the eastern side of the top of the dome is a "few" feet below the actual high point. In the 30-45 minutes we were on the leeward side of the rock, a nasty, bitingly cold wind had whipped up. (This photo of Rubaduc's rubber duck, brought from CT to SMP, GA by Bookwormct, was taken prior to boxing the eastern dome... on the way back down, there were whitecaps on this water!)

On the way down, I detoured from the group to replace Eagle's Home, and missed Oread's eagle-eyed spotting of a real Sex on the Trail incident.

At the 'halfway house' we learned that Mark had taken an early trip back down with Rex. The group continued on to the Dragon Tree (Bonsai, whatever) and got a taste of 123F's very fine wine, Uncorked: Gnarly Head.

From there, with time running short (the 99 Bottles Brew Tour: Village Corner Tavern event was just 30 minutes away), we rejoined Scottie's tale and retrieved for later stamping the Breckenridge Oatmeal Stout and Troegs Dreamweaver boxes (and perma-pulled Sam Adams Pale Ale and Blue Moon).

Just after we had all four boxes in-hand, my phone started ringing. First Rex, wondering where we were. Then the restaurant, wondering where we were. Then Eidolon, telling me Beachcomber was worried the restaurant wouldn't be ready. Then my son, wondering where the remote was for a remote control car. Then Rex, telling me the restaurant wasn't ready. Then my son again, wondering why the car wasn't working.

There was barely time to rest at the foot of the Walk-Up Trail. Our tired feet, parched throats and sun- and wind-burned faces had to go to the Event!