This past Thursday, October 29, marked 10 years since the day that Holly and I met. Since we began dating pretty much immediately, and have been together since, it was definitely an anniversary to celebrate.
After taking her back to the monuments we went to the night we met on Thursday evening, I had a slightly more romantic event planned for Friday night - a trip to Brookside Cabins up in the Shenandoah Mountains, just two hours outside of DC. Given that this weekend turned out to be peak leaf-watching time, and that the cabins are within just a mile or two of Skyline Drive, it seemed like the perfect getaway spot to go and enjoy each other’s company.
When we arrived at the cabin, things looked about perfect:
Sure, the cabins were a bit closer than I’d expected, but it wasn’t so bad:
…especially when we saw the stream running behind the cabins:
Once you tossed in the fireplace and the jacuzzi hot tub for two, it was immediately obvious that I’d chosen wisely getting this cabin - very romantic for sure. 
As we started to look around us, though, we realized that the whole thing wasn’t…quite…right. I mean, sure, it was a very country décor - but that’s exactly the sort of thing you’d expect from a cabin up in the mountains. It’s just that the country thing was a bit off.
Take, for example, this lovely straw wreath:
Looks nice and homey, right? It sure is…until you look at the “bird” on it up close:
Look, there on the wreath! It’s a taxidermy! No, wait, it’s fake feathers! Oh, no, wait - it’s TARDO BIRD!!!
That wasn’t the only straw-related abomination in the room, either - there was some sort of massive snake-looking thing that covered an entire wall:
The situation didn’t really improve when we looked on the other side of the room, where our bed was situated. Again, at first glance - sure, it was country décor, a bit cheesy but not so bad. That is, until you noticed the pole smack in the middle of the room, within mere feet of the bed:
There is simply no structural reason to have a pole in the middle of the room…which means that it was clearly put there for aesthetics. I’m not sure if it was meant to be a homey architectural detail or a redneck stripper pole.
Our redneck, country-fried impression of the room was not helped when we realized that there were hearts on the nightstand:
…and the blanket rack:
…and the coffee table:
…and the freaking end table:
…and that the other nightstand was actually a multi-level heart abomination:
It was clear we’d somehow been given the honeymoon suite, since the hearts weren’t confined to the main room - they were also in the bathroom:
…and all over the outside of the cabin, to boot:
We even started seeing hearts that may or may not have really been there:
As both of us were laughing over being nearly clubbed to death with hearts, we realized that the over-the-top obviousness of the romantic décor could have something to do with the average clientele of the room. How, you ask, did we know anything about those who had stayed before us? You might say we saw the signs.
There were all sorts of little signs tucked away throughout the cabin. The first one we ran across, which was near the gas fireplace, was actually useful:
After all, neither of us would have ever figured out that the thermostat controlled the operation of the fire - that’s not exactly obvious. The sign near the front door was useful, too:
…as was the one warning you of the step down near the tub:
The sign just over the tub, however, was our first clue that some real…ummmm…high-class folks might have been staying there previously:
But hey, maybe it’s not so obvious that you have to fill the tub before turning on the jacuzzi part - maybe it has a safety, right? You could totally chalk that up to mechanical incompetence (which is not something I’m willing to chide other people over). The sign on the vertical blinds, though:
There’s just no excusing that sort of incompetence. If I have to spell out that the open position is the see-through position…well, I’m guessing you can’t spell, or for that matter read, so why the hell am I leaving you that kind of a sign anyway?
The coup de white trash, though, came in the form of the final sign in the room:
The really sad part about these last three signs is that you know the reason they exist is because people have fouled up the jacuzzi, broken the blinds, and/or stolen towels - repeatedly (since, after all, one stray disaster is usually not enough for a sign). Personally, I hope that at least one person did all three in one visit - just because the much pure, concentrated white trash stupidity would have to be one hell of a sight to witness.
The positive news of the evening, though, was that the utter ridiculousness of the room was not enough to ruin our good time. After dinner at the adjoining “restaurant” - which will do the job if you’re in the mood for mediocre food at even more mediocre prices - we realized that the gift shop had some Chateau Le Cabin Blackberry Wine, which we’d discovered on our last trip to the Shenandoah region (and which is a much tastier, more sophisticated wine than a name like “castle the cabin” would imply). The staff there happily provided us with a pair of glasses for the night and a corkscrew…and, well, let’s just say that if you follow the directions on the signs when working the jacuzzi and the fireplace, they do their jobs nicely. 
Before we left in the morning, the room was good enough to give us one last laugh, in the form of a brass statue sitting off on the side of the fireplace:
From the side, it looks like a deer. From the front, however, it looks more like a cow:
As we laughed and debated whether to call it a ceer or a dow, Holly realized that its neck looked just like a camel - which meant that all of our debate was moot, since it was clearly a dowel.
Cheesiness aside, I would actually highly recommend Brookside Cabins. The prices were reasonable, the people there are friendly, and the amenities themselves were quite nice. In fact, our biggest complaint was that I forgot to bring the camera charger, so we couldn’t get pictures of the leaves on our way back to DC. Just make sure that, if you’re going there for a romantic retreat, you stay in Love Cabin #9.