Blogger Dale Brumfield and Richmond Hothead Don Harrison (pictured at left) spent an evening in Ashland, Virginia last Saturday night and found the experience “not half bad, for Ashland”.
“I was surprised” said Brumfield, who does not make driving to Ashland a habit, even to fill his insanely expensive and complicated prescription. “Don met me for dinner. Oh sure, he threw a fit about the food, but overall he was OK.”
While Writer Harrison was belligerent about the dining arrangements, shouting “think of the children!”, he settled down quickly after filling up on pizza at the local Brick Oven and a gigantic ice cream cone down at the Club Car.
“This is OK – for a one-time visit,” Brumfield said as he sat outside of the Coffee and Tea, “Not that I would make this a habit or anything.”
Harrison and Brumfield concluded their “OK, it was pleasant” evening by getting swept up in the intrigue and mystery of riding the rails into the night and hopped a slow-moving freight train as it rumbled through Ashland, riding on the side of a boxcar, the night Hanover wind blowing in their faces. But it only took them as far as the Doswell yards, where they were chased by the Railroad Dick and had to walk, freezing and irritable, back to Ashland, where they resumed their whining and complaining before driving home.
