Tuesday, August 16, 2011

McMenamin's Edgefield

Yesterday was fun. Edgefield. It is camp for adults. McMenamin's owns a large property out in Troutdale, OR. It has a distillery, a winery, and a brewery on its premises. It has a hotel and a spa. It has a putt-putt golf course and live music. It has a three dollar theater and a bar in every building. The place is a resort. And it was a great day for Edgefield.

The sky was particularly blue, the grass especially green. I sat and had a nice lunch with Ciera, her dad, and his new wife Jane. It was pleasant talk and the food was good. After, and one beer later, we hit the course. Jane's brother Pat joined us. He is the chiropractor that helped Ciera when she hurt her back. He looks like a shorter more angular Bill Murray. He's not a half bad golfer. The course was great. It overlooked views of rolling hills, the campus of Edgefield, and the large red water tower. It was a tranquil moment.

We golfed casually, had a drink on the course, and picked blackberries off the bushes. They were ripe and juicy, but not particularly sweet or flavorful. I sliced the golf-balls pretty badly. But winning wasn't the point, although I did get a nice birdie on the second to last hole.

The point was spending an afternoon with people and getting to know them. Being adults in the adult world was different. As much as I loved it, I yearned for the ebullience of the adolescent one. There is a lot of calming energy in being adult, also a lot of drinking. I loved being a kid though, running around; where every turn was a new discovery. The sheer energy of being somewhere new is sort of lost on me now.

The sun set slowly, it reddened and turned violet. We ate dinner at the Black Rabbit, a restaurant with a small menu but a wide selection. I had a drink of their gin. Ciera and I basked in the pools at the spa. It is basically an enormous hot tub with great landscaping. The couples that joined us were not quite so fun. We left when the making out reached a fever pitch.

We finished off the night talking in low voices at the picnic table. Tranquil, calm. That was the place.