The Almost-Real Old West in Love Valley

Recently, we read an article with several suggestions for day trips. Thinking this might help us suggest one to our friend, Lynn, for a change (see previous post on Körner's Folly), Marsha and I were thrilled. The spot that intrigued us the most was Love Valley, NC, a small, imitation Western town near Statesville. On our cross-country trip this summer, we'd searched for an authentic Western town to visit, but the closest were were able to get was the Dodge City re-creation.

According to the article and photos, Love Valley looked just like an authentic Western town with a saloon, general store, hitching posts, and dozens of trails for riding. In fact, the "town" was built for riders to go and feel just like they were in the Old West. This sounded exactly like what we were looking for.

Right after we went to Körner's Folly, Marsha and I had a rare Sunday afternoon to just ourselves, so after church, we decided to drive over to Love Valley, have some lunch, and check it out. Sure enough, the GPS in my new car (which we'd already found to be less than reliable) took us on the most convoluted route possible. But we found the area soon enough (as evidenced by all the horse stables and the giant list of rules for riders) and knew that within minutes we'd pull up in front of the saloon.

Instead, we found ourselves on a dead-end road in a church parking lot. That was the first sign that all was not to be what we'd expected. After reprogramming the GPS, driving around in a big circle, and ending up right back in the church parking lot again, we realized what we'd done wrong. The saloon and the whole "town" itself wasn't on an actual street, so the GPS was just taking us to the closest spot that was. So we drove back to the town "entrance," and tried to park, but the only parking lot was an unmarked dirt lot full of horse trailers and motorcycles. It wasn't really designed for visitors. After the motorcycles left, we were able to finally park and go get some lunch at the saloon.

As soon as we strolled into town like the couple of greenhorn hombres that we were, I immediately steered us to the wooden walkways than ran the length of the town. That was both to get the full Old West experience (really needed some spurs) and to avoid all of the horse poop in the street. 

I have to admit, with all the horses tied up along the hitching rails, the authentic weathered clapboard buildings, and dirt street (no grass like Dodge City) full of horse poop, it felt just like the real deal. Especially with all of the horses tied up outside the General Store. Much more Little Big Man than Gunsmoke.

After we walked to the other end of town and checked out the walking/biking/riding trails. We momentarily entertained the idea of a hike, but opted against it since we still hadn't had lunch and it was already getting close to 3:00. 

We found the saloon across the street, steered ourselves around the big pile of poop in front of the steps, and went inside to check it out. The Western theme didn't carry as much inside. It looked more like the biker bar in Pee-wee's Big Adventure. I was game, but Marsha said she "wasn't feeling it," so we ventured further down the walk to the General Store & Cafe. The windows were all covered up with stickers and flyers to where we couldn't even get a glimpse inside. Neither one of us were feeling it there, so we decided we'd spent enough time in Love Valley. We'd spent a grand total of about twenty minutes there. So much for suggesting it to Lynn.

After we got back in the car and hit the road for Statesville to eat there (which ended up not working out either, since almost everything was closed for Labor Day weekend), Marsha perfectly summed up why we hadn't taken to Love Valley. It was like we'd walked in on a party to which we hadn't been invited. The magazine had billed it as a tourist attraction, but it's really more of a club for people who own and ride horses. Not really geared towards tourists at all (hence the absence of signs pointing us in the right direction). But we still had a good time checking it out and having an excursion together. Even trips that don't exactly work out can make for fun memories.

By Gosh, By Golly, It's Körner's Folly!

Our great friend, Lynn, is the master of the Day Trip. I have no idea what her sources are, but when our families get together, she never fails to find someplace interesting for us to go to, usually within an hour's drive. And it's not just day trips, either. Thanks to her, we discovered and fell in love with Newport. Our attempts to mimic her skill have been less than successful, as I shall detail in an upcoming post.

Some time ago, she suggested a trip to Körner's (pronounced "Kerner's") Folly, just down the road in Kernersville (at some point they changed the spelling to match the pronunciation), billed as "the Strangest House in the World," which sounded awesome. But for some reason or another, each time we attempted to go, our plans fell through. Well, after repeated attempts, we finally made it. And it was well worth the wait.

Körner's Folly has seven levels on three floors, twenty-two rooms, ceilings that range from five to 25 feet, an underground tunnel that runs beneath the street, a children's theater in the attic, and is nothing like you've ever seen. It also makes amazing use of ventilation (especially considering the piecemeal method in which it was built), allowing hot air, cool air, and even sunlight to travel where needed. Sadly, I was so enraptured I forgot to take many photos (and wasn't sure if I could at first). But that just gives me an excuse to go back.

Jule Körner was the grandson of German immigrants who designed furniture, did interior decorating, painted murals, and worked as a commercial artist. His greatest claim to fame was the Bull Durham murals painted on the sides of barns all over the South. He'd have his artists paint the bulls "anatomically correct," then write to the local paper posing as a concerned citizen to complain. Then he'd have to send the artist back to "fix" the painting. He was also a brilliant marketer.

The house was first constructed in 1880 as a showplace for his interior design and furniture work. For this reason, none of the rooms or furniture match (other than his signature flourishes). The right-hand side of the ground floor was actually the stables, with a 16-foot ceiling to allow for the hay loft. A relative said that the house "would surely be Jule Körner's folly." He liked the description so much, that's what he named the house. He even had it set in tile on the front porch.

Over the years, Körner kept adding to the house, especially after he got married and then had two children. His wife, Polly Alice, didn't want the stable attached to the house, so he closed it in and built a floor in between. He also built rooms for the children with five foot ceilings and small doors, and a level below where their nanny could sit and watch over them. Some of the hallways are so narrow it would be tough for a heavyset person to squeeze through.

His wife wanted to start a private theater for children (believed to be the first in the U.S.), so they converted the top floor into the Juvenile Lyceum, called Cupid's Park Theater. Körner designed a series of Cupid murals and had an artist paint them on the ceilings.

The largest, and most "normal" room (and the most elegant) sits on the second floor and connects to the two rooms on either side. It's most unique features are the curtained booths built into the corners, dubbed "kissing corners" where couples could smooch in privacy. There's also a unique three-person chair, built so that each person (a couple and their chaperone) can face the other. There's also a two-person version for a married couple.

Körner kept adding to the house up until he died in 1924. It stayed in the family for many years until it finally sat empty for some 30 years. It was in danger of being torn down before a group of locals got together and raised enough money to save the house and turn it into a tourist attraction. Now they're working to raise money for renovations, which the house desperately needs. Many of the rooms have peeling paint and show many signs of wear from the intervening years. In addition to the admission price, they also have spots where you can provide donations. We gladly tossed in some more, but what they really need is a wealthy benefactor -- either an individual or corporation. Bull Durham comes to mind as a possibility.

You know what they say: if you're poor, you're just crazy. But if you're rich, you're eccentric. Jule Körner was very eccentric.

John's of 12th Street? Fughetaboutit!

Three things I truly love in life: gangster movies, old restaurants, and great food. Not necessarily in that order. John's of 12th Street on the Lower East Side of NYC hits all three notes perfectly.

We first heard about John's on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives on Food Network. They've been open since 1908, it looks a lot like the restaurant where Michael plugs Salozzo and the Chief, they make their own pasta by hand, and have a giant mountain of wax that's been dripping from candles since 1932 to celebrate the end of Prohibition. Before the episode was over, we just knew that we had to go there. Turns out that was easier said than done, but it was definitely worth the wait.

Our first attempt was summer of last year  (2012). We spent the week in NYC before heading up to New England. We spent one day walking across the Williamsburg Bridge, then all over the Lower East Side to Chinatown and Little Italy.

We realized something was up when Marsha tried all day to call to ask if they took reservations and no one would answer the phone. When we finally arrived, tired and hungry, we immediately realized why. There were several trucks and a small crew of people and equipment outside. 

It was a film crew.

I've seen enough movie trucks in my day to recognize them right away. Besides, we were almost late for our dinner reservations two nights earlier because Ben Stiller's Walter Mitty production had blocked our path and we had to completely backtrack (sadly, we didn't spot Ben or Kristen Wiig).

When we inquired about what was shooting (and what had squelched our dinner plans), I was happy to learn that it was for a Season 3 episode of Boardwalk Empire. If anything was going to cost me a dinner I'd been looking forward to for several months, that was a great option. We ended up eating at another little Italian place down the street (don't remember the name, but it was pretty good). 

After dinner, we went back by John's to see if we could spot Steve Buscemi, Martin Scorsese, or anyone else, but no luck there, either. The crew was packing up, but we did manage to peak through the windows to get a glimpse of the place. 

I eventually learned that the scene filmed was for the "Sunday Best" episode. It was where Gyp meets Joe "the Boss" Massaria after Nucky and Eli have celebrated Easter together. Judging from an article I read, they seemed to have also shot a scene out front with Michael Stuhlbarg (Arnold Rothstein), but that must have ended up on the cutting room floor.

Months later, we finally got to eat dinner there. The food was great -- just good Italian food, period. Nothing too fancy, with prices to match. I had one of the dishes they showcased on Triple D, Tuscan Ragu over Homemade Pappardelle, and it was awesome. Next time we go back, I'm getting the other dish they showed -- the veal meatballs.

For dessert we had Tiramasu, which was more like a pudding than a traditional Tiramasu. It was served in a tall glass with a spoon. Usually, It's not one of her favorite desserts, but she loved this one so much she dug out every last bite.

The decor is pure Old Lower East Side Italian, and it looks like it's changed little in the 100+ years that it's been open. Lucky Luciano actually grew up nearby, so it's easy to imagine that he had to have dined there a time or two.

We recognized one of the owners from Triple D. The service was excellent as well, with multiple waiters checking on us. They run a tight ship there, which was the only slight downside. There was an older woman there (Owner? Manager?) who fussed at the waiters right by our table, even though they were doing a great job.

Our main waiter even chased us down the block in the cold drizzle when Marsha forgot her earmuffs. We wanted to go back in and leave him an even bigger tip.

Thanks to a sign in the window, we also learned that The Sopranos also shot there. In one of the very last episodes of the series ("The Second Coming"), Tony barged in, beat the crap out of a guy, stuck a gun in his mouth, then busted out a few of his teeth against the footrest on the bar. Badda-bing, badda-boom! Also in that scene was Greg Antonacci, who plays Johnny Torrio on Boardwalk Empire. Small Mob world.

Can't wait to go back. Not just for the food, but to look for a gun behind the toilet.

Santa's Land: Where It's Christmas All Year 'Round!

North Carolina Tourism has an ad campaign that extols everyone that lives here to "visit the state you're in." That's certainly one of the advantages of living in Western North Carolina -- there's just so much to do and see here, and much of it within just a few hours' drive.

Couple that with our love of cheesy destinations and theme parks, and you get the awesomeness that is Santa's Land in Cherokee, NC (another great place to visit for entirely different reasons).

First, some back story. Marsha first went to Santa's Land as a kid, probably back in the 60s when it first opened. It was one of those experiences that she would always remember fondly, so about ten or twelve years ago (best I can remember), we decided take Madison. Not quite Disney World, but she sure loved it. As you can imagine, it's really geared towards small children. And Marsha sure loved the trip down memory lane.

Recently, Madison has wanted to go back, so that's just what we did. Only this time it was a fun trip down memory lane for all of us.

The park is divided into three main areas: Christmas Village, where you can visit Santa in his house any day of the year; Zoo Land, which has several animal displays; and Fun Land, which has most of the (kiddie) rides. The park is one long rectangular area, so the three sections run end to end. In addition, there are a few spots that also highlight the mountain locale, and a little train that circles the entire park.

When you first enter the park, you go right into Christmas Village, which is actually kind of impressive in its own quaint little way. There's Santa's House, of course, but also a few other Santa-style buildings, plus a giant snowman, rabbit, and kangaroo (not sure I get that one). And pretty good landscaping.

One building is a little theater with a magic show featuring the Amazing Gene (seriously), who we saw twelve odd years ago and is still there. Some of his tricks were easy enough to figure out, but more than a couple left me scratching my head. And he did a great job (just as before) bringing kids up on stage to help out.

Behind Santa's House is a quaint, "regular" village with a firehouse, church, train depot (one of two), and a life-size Nativity. Parts of the park just needed some more TLC, but were certainly eye-catching.

On the other side of Christmas Village and heading into the rest of the park, is an outdoor stage connected to a BBQ (beef) restaurant, a blacksmith shop (where they specialize in rings made from flat nails) and a tiny magic shop (run by the Amazing Gene).

Last time we saw a local bluegrass group perform (still have their CD somewhere) and ate lunch, but there didn't appear to be a show this trip.

From there you cross into Zoo Land, which we didn't quite remember from before. There were a bunch of Elf houses containing "minima-tronic" displays (more on those in a minute), which seem to have been converted into front structures for the zoo cages. There are (little) bears, goats, donkeys, a camel, and more, all of which you can feed (from a safe distance).

The craziest part was the paddle boat ride (which really needed a good cleaning) around a pond filled with Japanese Koi and containing two islands with monkey cages. The fish have learned that boats mean food, so as soon as you set out, you can see a whole giant swarm of them swimming towards you like little sharks coming in for the kill. Then they thrash all around the boat with their mouths open waiting for food. It was seriously freaky. 

Still inside many of the Elf Houses are Christmas display windows dating back to the early 60s by David Hamberger Designs of New York (though his last name is misspelled on the window tributes). Despite their age and wear and tear, most of these are still pretty impressive and the characters still move back and forth.

Especially impressive is the Christmas Carol window with moving Scrooge and Marley figures. The only downside of these displays (thank goodness they're still there) is that a few of them have wide open doors where the sunlight reflected off the windows, which made them hard to see.

In the center of Zoo Land is an old grist mill that sells unique jarred items like pumpkin butter and stuff. The pumpkin butter really intrigued us, but the shop part wasn't open and, sadly, that was the one flavor we couldn't find in the gift shop later.

Finally, there is Fun Land, which has a bigger train station, a non-themed eatery, a carousel, and lots of kiddie rides. I love how the employees wear little Elf hats (Madison got one of her own on her first trip). But it also has two things that stand out: a replica moonshine still (oh yes!) and the world-famous Rudi Coaster!

The still is part of an old fashioned farm exhibit. The only thing better would have been a racing ride where you get to outrun the "revenuers."  After all, that's how NASCAR got started in not too far away Wilkes County. I mean, what more do you want in a theme park for kids? 

And finally, there is the Rudi Coaster, their signature attraction. It's a kiddie coaster not much bigger than one you'd see at the State Fair, but it's got a giant Rudolph head on the front and they let you go around twice. You can't beat that for a fun day at the park.