“Is this Beth? This is John from Gettysburg Campground. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we have to cancel your reservation because of flooding.”
When I received the call Wednesday morning, the day before we left for our anniversary trip, my heart sank. Hurricane Debby decided to travel up through the Mid-Atlantic, landing in South Carolina, going through the middle of North Carolina and Virginia, meeting a northern front in Maryland and Pennsylvania, dumping large amounts of rain, causing flash flooding and tornadoes. As a result, our coveted weekend away got canceled, and we had to scurry to find something to do outside of the storm’s path, leaving us limited options.
“How about Tappahannock? There’s a place called Naylor’s Beach,” I said to Ron Thursday morning. After searching for 24 hours and watching the storm’s progression, we knew we had to find somewhere relatively close to home but still an adventure. God forbid we not do something exciting for our anniversary.
“Do you have any spots available for this weekend?” I asked Nancy when she answered the phone at Naylor’s Beach.
“We have plenty of spots.”
“And we don’t need a reservation?” Nancy could hear the hesitancy in my voice. I could hear the smile in hers when she responded. She had heard the question before.
“You don’t need to worry; we have plenty of spots available.”
When Lori texted, asking, “Are you going today?” she planted a seed. Turning to Ron, I asked him the same question, and within minutes, we had decided, “Why not?” And so we started packing. One more call to Nancy confirmed she had spots available, and so our adventure began.
Pulling up to the campground, we discovered a luscious green field with a wire and wood fence marking its boundaries. Picnic tables dotted the land, with no clear campsites, only electric boxes and water faucets sprinkled throughout, marking places to park. Large pecan trees, old with age and limbs full of leaves, provided shade. Only a few campers occupied the campground.
“Well, she was right, there’s plenty of campsites,” Ron said.
“What have we gotten ourselves into?” I thought to myself.
“Well, we’re here now,” I responded.
When we turned into the grass-covered entranceway, no one greeted us. Instead, an old cinder block building, screens haphazardly attached to windows, stood in front of us; the bathhouse had stood there for years. When I called the campground, I got the answering machine.
“This is weird,” Ron said. Getting out of the truck, he walked around the bathhouse, finding no one. I called the campground again, this time leaving a message.
“I guess we just pick a spot.” Ron began exploring as I watched and waited for the phone to ring anxiety building. As usual, I get uncomfortable in situations like this when I don’t know what to do. When Ron returned, with still no callback, we chose a spot overlooking the river.
Unfortunately, the site we chose didn’t have electricity. Thankfully, Nancy came right before we started to unhook, informing us that none of the sites on that side had electricity. Of course, the sites with the best view of the river didn’t have electricity, bummer.
“I’ll drive you to a good spot; you can pull right through.”
So, climbing back into the truck, we followed Nancy to our home for the weekend. Our view of the River now came in slivers between the houses that stood in front of our site. But the breeze blew quietly, the smell of grass and river reminded me of Pennsylvania, and my bare feet nestled in the lush greenery as I wrote made me feel at home.
With Nancy’s welcoming spirit, the beautiful countryside, and our site chosen, my anxiety subsided, and I quickly relaxed into our latest adventure, excited to see what the weekend would hold.
“I definitely want to look at houses here. I love this area.”
And so, tomorrow, when the rain comes, we’ll spend the day looking for a possible new home/vacation rental.
“The seven houses down at the end are all new. We had a tornado in February 7 or 8 years ago; it took them all out.” Looking down the road to the left, knowing we currently had a tornado watch in effect, I prayed we wouldn’t have another one today.
Taking a bike ride, we explored the mile long road in front of the campground, running along the riverfront houses. Then we toured Naylor’s Beach and store, all part of the campground.
Downgraded to a tropical storm, we felt very little of Debby’s effects through the night. Occasional wind gusts, rain every so often, but other than that, I woke to a dry morning with a slight breeze. Reading my Bible, the sun peeked through the trees behind me, the clouds parting for a moment of joy.
Sitting in my chair, I love the view through the slim window above the fireplace. The quaint brown building, no idea it’s purpose, makes me think of a one room school house, the lush trees full of secrets stories from the people who have found shade beneath their limbs, and the gray trailer all mixing together time, history combined with modern, all within view.
Morning walk with the pups!
“That’s pretty rough for such a small river,* Ron said, looking at the choppy water as we pulled out of the campground. Just over the bridge, high water greeted us, starting to cross the road. Waves lapped effortlessly against the shore as the water rose.
“Interesting road.”
The tree lined country road escorts you in and out of Tappahanock from Naylor’s Point. Heading to Warsaw, we started our tour of homes.
“At least we’re still playing in the rain together,” I said to Ron after taking this picture.
Tomorrow marks our 12 year anniversary. One of our most memorable dates happened in the rain. Bike riding on Jamestown Island we got caught in a rain storm and took shelter under a tree, getting soaked. Once the shower passed, we discovered a small building just out of sight that would have kept us dry.
Today we had no shelter on Hobbs Hole Golf course. Rain whipped, wind howled, yet we played on.
“No thanks, we’re already wet,” I said to the young guys who offered us a ride to the clubhouse, calling it quits when the rain became heavier on hole seven.
Unprepared for our spontaneous golf date, Ron had to buy a collared shirt to play. With no socks, I abandoned my shoes on hole eight because of a painful blister starting to develop. The grass felt heavenly beneath my feet, thick Bermuda carpet. No hat, borrowed carts, we made an unforgettable memory together today.
“Worse conditions ever, but all things considered, not a bad day,” Ron said as we walked off hole nine.
Yes, my love, I agree, not a bad day at all!
After enjoying a drink and an app at Hobbs Hole Cafe, we went to see another house before sharing a banana split, fully loaded, at Acme’s
After dinner, and the rain passed, we walked to Naylor Beach to check out the sunset. With another line of storms coming, lightning flashed in the distance as thunder rumbled. God’s beauty on display, a parody of life, dark clouds mixed with sunlight, and clear skies, the ups and downs of life all in one photo.
Saturday morning when I let the dogs out I discovered the gray clouds gone, a warm breeze and the fresh smells of nature. Pulling out the chairs from the boot, I spent my quiet time watching the sun rise above the trees.
“How long does it take to get to Quinton Oaks?” Ron asked.
“Twenty-five minutes.”
Our morning formulated around our tee time. Ron cooked breakfast, I walked the dogs and we headed to the course.
Along the way, we drove through Warsaw and Montrose, small towns with coffee shops, breweries and antique/gift stores to while away the time.
“I shot an 88,” I said walking off hole 18, finally able to breathe. Knowing I started the hole with an 82, as long as I didn’t double par, I would break 90 for the first time on our 12th wedding anniversary, and I did!
“I don’t remember the first time I broke 90, but I do remember the only time I broke 80. Last summer at Riverfront I shot a 79.” Ron shot an 80 today, if he hadn’t had a double bogey on 17, he would have tied his record from last summer.
We tried to stop in Warsaw for a celebratory drink, but found nothing open. We did find love though.
Before dinner we did a little shopping at Acme Antiques, buying nothing, but enjoying their plethora of goods.
Twelve years, his smile gets goofier and our love grows stronger.
Praying for many more years, grateful for every day!
Dinner tantalized the senses, carrot cake dessert topped off the perfect meal. We listened to Maribel tell the table beside us the history of 1710 Tavern, built in that year, it still has the original flooring, fireplaces, walls and ceilings. The pews lining the walls came from its time as a church. The bar added on sometime between 1715 and 1750. Once an Ordinary, government regulated inn, the tavern has three rooms above it that once houses guests.
“Time flies so make sure God is your pilot,” That,’s what the church sign said.”. Turning around at the intersection of New Zion Baptist church, we saw the one room school house, a restoration in progress. Ron’s words surprised me, but the truth doesn’t.
After our delicious dinner, we enjoyed a beautiful sunset over the Rappahannock and river life continued around us.
Before church, I walked the pups to Naylor’s Beach for a peaceful view of the river.
“If you don’t want to invite them to church, don’t make excuses.” Micky said to the waitress who had just told us why we couldn’t come to the 8:00 a.m. service at her church because of the revival. She didn’t invite us to the revival either.
Micky, however, invited us to his.
“If you don’t mind driving, I got to Vaulter’s Episcopalian and we would love.to have you. The church has it’s original foundation from 1704 and there’s bullet marks in the bricks from the Civil War. You’ll be one of the family by the time you leave.”
How could we resist an invitation. Like Micky’s? And so we didn’t. During our pre-dinner drink at the bar, we found our place of worship for the next morning.
“Most of the congregation will be in her tonight.”
“Well, you know the old joke about Episcopalian’s, where two or three are gathered, there will be a fifth.”. Micky chuckled at my response.
And that’s how we came to Vaulter’s Episcopalian church.
“Do you think we can get on early? We have a 12:02 tee time.”
“Morrison’s? Yeah, if you’re ready you can go now,” the golf attendant said.
Since church ended twenty minutes earlier than we anticipated, we had plenty of time to get to Hobbs Hole for our tee time. Thankfully, we got on early.
At the end of the day, I broke a 100 with a score of 96, and Ron shot an 88. And I won our First One on, Closest to the pin and First, Ron won it yesterday. Our weekend of golf turned out well for us.
Finally, we stopped at NN Burger for “Virginia Living’s Magazines Best Burger,” according to their reader’s poll. Unfortunately, no wine and their beer selection had many options out, but we enjoyed our cheeseburgers.
Live music serenaded us as we ate. Tasty burgers but I don’t know about the best. Very filling and definitely delicious, we enjoyed our meal.
Why do weekends go by so fast? What a wonderful and beautiful time we have had in this hidden gem called Naylor’s Beach Campground.
Cool evening temperatures gave us a perfect night for a fire.
With a 7 ft. putt B. Morrison defeated R. Morrison with one stroke in the final round of their 12th Anniversary Tournament.
Playing First One on, Closest to the Pin and First One in, the couple started the 9th hole tied at 9 all. Landing her approach shot 20 feet in from the pin, B. Morrison two-putted to win the trophy.
In the post round interview, Morrison gave all the credit to her husband:
“Without his love and support, I couldn’t do it. He was worth the wait and I cherish every day God gives us together.”
And with that, they start their 13th year of marriage.
We finished off the weekend walking nine at Quinton Oaks. Not only did I beat Ron in our game, but I also shot 41 to his 42. I do confess I have asterisk by my score; because of the poor condition of hole five’s green, I implemented the two-putting rule. If I hadn’t, Ron would have beat me by one stroke.
