A Bordello Barolo, Chapter One

“What was the name of that gal that left early on Saturday? I promised to invite her to the PC bash.”

“I believe you refer to Wendy, Andy. Good hiker; we climbed White Mountain together in ’04. What PC bash?”

“You know – that mondo weekend bash I’m planning. It’s going to be hiking on Saturday, dinner on Saturday night at either the Warehouse or the Bull Valley. The former is mega-casual meat-and-potatoes (and cheap) and the latter fancier with great food and a bit pricey. You pick the one you’d like. If we do the Bull Valley, we can go to the Warehouse afterward to sample their 400 beers. We can even hang out on the Warehouse patio drinking beer with the bikers and mooning the passing Amtrak trains.”

“Sounds fun so far – I’m sure,” I replied, with a brief yet uncertain pause. “But, uh, PC?” I asked. I knew Andy to be anything but politically correct. Plausibly culpable, perhaps.

“It’s all taking place in Port Costa. If you haven’t been there, it’s a trip. An isolated village halfway between Crockett and Martinez that has one main street, one fine restaurant, one huge biker beer & steak pub, and one hotel. All located on the picturesque Carquinez Strait with spectacular views of the sprawling Benicia condo and townhome subdivisions across the water. By the way, the biggest constraint is the hotel. This place looks like the Dodge House in Gunsmoke. It’s kind of funky and weird, some even say haunted, i.e. – my kind of place – but it has limited rooms. So if more than 10-12 people are coming, some will have to drive home afterward or camp somewhere. I don’t know what the camping scene is around there. Anyway, some of the more delicate may not want to stay at the hotel anyway, so it might not be a problem. But it’s miles to the next nearest dump, uh, lodgings. Anyway, it promises to be a mondo send-off for your 5th decade; I’ll be sending out the invite in the mid-August timeframe.”

My fifth decade. I had to hand it to Andy, who had recently turned 50 himself and eminently knew the value of celebrating such a milestone birthday. I wasn’t too sure about Andy’s choice of location for this PC Bash, but having walked a few hundred trail miles in Andy’s company, I figured I knew him well enough to trust his judgment. I decided to cast my fete to the wind.

“Andy, your plan seems like the well-rounded Port Costa experience,” I responded. “For a mondo dinner, Bull Valley’s menu [currently offline] suggests that it is worth doing. The reviews on Yelp are hilarious! I don’t believe I’ve hiked in northern Contra Costa County, so I’m looking forward to the discovery. I just searched online for local camping, but there doesn’t appear to be a campground within miles of Port Costa. Maybe the Delicate Ones can find lodging in Crockett, if they want to negotiate what appears to be more of a spaghetti noodle than a road.”

“That would be Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride to Crockett, alright,” wrote Andy. “I’ll research alternate digs for the overbooked/cowards. We’ll reserve the Burlington for the hardcore. I know Vindu wants to stay there. Bull Valley it is. Really good food and a comfy country inn atmosphere. Giant fireplace and great martinis, too. Perfect Fall setting. After that we can slug beers and shots and have a PacMan competition at the Warehouse. I’m thinking I’ll send out the invitation earlier, say late July. That way I can get an early headcount and book the reservations at the Burlington. So send me all dem other dames – I mean names – you wishes to invite. I’ll supply complimentary flea powder for everyone.”

Oh, that Andy. Come to think of it, he doesn’t need to hike or drink. Andy is just naturally high. And that’s just what made him the right person to throw me a big gig in Port Costa, California.

Read the next exciting chapter of the Bordello Barolo saga.

~winehiker

Related posts:

• A Bordello Barolo, Chapter Two
• A Bordello Barolo, Chapter Three
• Bodaciously bawdy links

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