Saturday Part 1

 

Got up, took a shower and went up to the main lodge in search of breakfast.  I left Ann and Daisy snoozing.  The breakfast choices were extraordinary—eggs benedict, baked eggs in cream, pancakes with exotic ingredients, corned beef hash, homemade granola, fresh fruit, fresh squeezed orange juice, whole cream for the coffee.  I had corned beef hash and poached eggs and snitched a sausage from someone else’s plate.  The Point was living proof that spa cuisine is overrated.

 

A front had come through the previous night that brought rain and falling temperatures.  It was probably 20 degrees cooler when I got up than it had been the prior day.  The weather report called for the day to be overcast with a chance of rain.  As the group assembled around the breakfast tables, people discussed activities for the day without even a thought to the printed schedule (there was a late morning scavenger hunt planned).  We blew off the scavenger hunt of course and Ann, Mac and I went on a bike ride.

 

As we walked down to the gate house to get our bikes, we noticed that Michael, who had just returned from a ride of his own, was taking an extraordinary interest in botany.  He was closely examining a native blueberry bush in the landscaping as we approached the building.  He was mumbling something incoherent about “that last Maker’s”, whatever that meant.

 

The recommended bike loop went around a state park RV campground surrounding a nearby lake.  Paul and Betsy had done this ride the day before and at some point Paul had crashed after flying over a frost heave on the bike path.  He was scraped up a bit and narrowly missed a head injury when he flew into the trees.

 

As we were riding around the park we came to the question of what were the economics of recreational vehicle camping.  We estimated that the average RV cost $80,000 new (I just did some web research and think this number is light).  Trailers are less ($30-$40,000) but require a big gas guzzling truck to tow them.  In any event, if you assume the average RV lasts for 8-10 years, you probably are spending $10,000 per year or so for the privilege.  Assuming you are willing to spend 10 days a year parked in a depressing campground with your family, you will be spending approximately $1,000 per day.  For a little bit more you could probably ditch your kids with the grandparents for a week and stay at The Point.  We determined that RV’ers were stupid.  (We also hoped they wouldn’t figure this out since we didn’t think the trailer park crowd would fit in very well at The Point).

 You could be at the Point

We stopped at the local convenience store so that Mac could make a purchase of some sort.  We had noticed as the weekend progressed that Mac and Duke often felt the need to have private conversations outdoors.  It was heartwarming to see these old classmates bonding so well after living on separate coasts for many years.  Apparently the convenience store sold something that they shared in these moments of togetherness—Cheetos?  Ding dongs?  Ho-Hos?  Hard to tell.

 

As we returned up the drive to The Point, we saw a multigenerational gaggle of Shivericks making their way down the hill on a variety of bicycles. Apparently the bike inventory at The Point was getting low because when we saw Sam he looked as though he was riding a tricycle.  We traded with them and rode their little mountain bikes back to the Point.

 

It was a little chilly and overcast, but Mac and I decided to go water skiing nonetheless.  Matt was waiting dutifully in the boathouse for us and got another staff member (also named Matt) to take us skiing.  Ann and Daisy came in the boat to watch the fun.  Neither Mac nor I had water skied in about 10 years but we figured it’s like riding a bike.  I tried to get up on one ski a couple of times but ended up having to use two skis then drop one.  Mac and I both did fine—neither of us was cutting very aggressively but it was enough to impress Ann.  Success in sports at our age is mostly about not getting hurt.

 

We got cleaned up for lunch.  The chef had made us an over-the-top barbeque lunch of ribs, chicken, trout, baked beans, corn on the cob, plum cobbler and ice cream, among other things.  More delicious wine.  Lunch was on the porch so Daisy got to join us.  She spent the lunch hour alternating between hunting chipmunks and getting handouts of pork and chicken.  I almost never drink wine at lunch and the combination of the delicious food and wine put me into a near coma. 

 

At lunch we shared with the others our morning activities.  Some of the girls had gone on a little 1.5 mile hike on the property with Jake, one of the staff members (the fact that the staff felt the need to act as guides on a 1.5 mile marked trail suggested an almost unfathomable level of outdoor incompetence for the normal guest at the Point).  There was a warming hut at about the halfway point on the trail.  The staff had lit a fire for the hikers and had some freshly baked cookies delivered to the hut.  Because after you’ve walked .75 of a mile, you need to rest, sit by the fire and consume 600 calories of sweets.  There was almost certainly a full bar as well.  Apparently the only thing the staff didn’t do was put the hikers in a fireman’s carry and schlep them through the woods themselves.

 

Jill is one of my favorite people, notwithstanding the fact that I only see her once a decade or so.  She is a great mom, puts up with Mac and loves animals (including Daisy).  At lunch, however, she suddenly reminded me of one of her funniest characteristics.  Jill is fascinated by really creepy, gross stuff.  Ebola, disease carrying insects—that sort of thing.  Her lunch topic was flesh eating bacteria.  According to Jill, pedicure shops are hotbeds of this disease since they re-use some fluid that becomes infected by horrible fecal matter from rodents or something.  Anyway, the point is that you will probably die a slow, horrible death if you get a pedicure.  I edged away from Ann, whose toenails looked pretty good.

 

That afternoon we had planned a group hike up Panther Mountain.  This was a short climb with a nice vista.  The staff had offered to guide us up the mountain but we decided we could handle it without guides, cookies, a bar, etc.  The staff was amazed at our bravery—leaving the grounds without a service staff, meals, cocktails and air support.  Apparently this was unheard of at The Point.  Sam, for one, decided to be prudent and bring along some alcohol in case of emergency.  He packed up a couple of beers.

 

When we got back to The Point there was a note saying that yesterday’s croquet match and pre-cocktail cocktails had been rescheduled for 5:00 pm.  Paul put his foot down.  He took the position that events involving drinking and eating could take up no more than 50% of the day and felt we needed a break before the real cocktail hour which was to be at the actual point at The Point—a small elevated peninsula with a fire pit, a lean-to and, of course, a full bar.  This created a lot of consternation among the women.  The Point requires multiple costume changes under the best of circumstances and the girls didn’t think they should wear their dinner outfits up to the lean-to—there was a little drizzle, bad things could happen to hair and the footing might be tricky in heels.  However, there would be very little time for the dinner costume change so they would have to do some pre-prep then do a quick change after cocktails.  A lot of thought went into this.