If you have read this blog recently or for any period of time, you know that we have a house full of animals.

Well, maybe not full - but a three-dog and one-cat house is pretty furry from the perspective of most sane people. We are not to the point where the animals rule the kingdom or we have started construction of an ark, but there are lots of teeth and toenails around here.

If you are an animal lover or even an animal admirer, living in the country is the perfect place for you. You can toss a stick around here without having something bringing it back to you. (That’s an exaggeration, of course, but I like the mental image.)

My husband, a high school math teacher, works on a farm in the summertime. He has daily contact with very large, often smelly animals. I prefer a more buccolic distance from bovine. It is lovely to see a herd of spotted cows grazing contentedly on a grass knoll. Much less lovely to be tagging along with the husband tossing hay to the cows in the feeder lots. If you know what I mean.

Even with the price of gas up there this summer, we still enjoy taking rides on the weekend along the many and varied side roads in Shenandoah County. I read somewhere that our county has the most unimproved roads in the state of Virginia. That means lots of dirt roads to explore. We’ve got plenty of blacktop, but it doesn’t feel like a Sunday ride if you aren’t bouncing along on gravel.

Because I am somewhat of a photographer - let’s say I like taking pictures - I try to bring my camera along when we go on these joyful jaunts.

I spotted a particularly cool shot of the blue mountains in the distance with a green field up close and instructed my husband to pull over. As I centered my camera on the scene, I noticed something moving.

Before I could step away from the fence, a brash donkey bolted toward the fence - all ears and teeth and snorts.

Alarmed, I stepped away to survey the situation from a position that allowed me to observe without getting chomped.

I don’t know a lot about donkeys, but this one has quite the personality. It was wearing a halter, so I assumed he was broken enough to allow people to get close to him. I stepped to the fence and his ears went sideways like large furry antennas trying to pick up a distant signal.

I talked to him softly and he shook his thick neck, scattering symbiotic flies along for the ride. He twisted his ears while I told him that he was handsome and it could have been my imagination, but he looked pleased.

As we drove off, I looked back at him and he was following the truck along the road as far as he could.

A couple of weeks later I visited him with some apples that had gotten soft and he crunched and munched his way through his sweet treats.

I guess if you think about it, we live in a moving zoo of sorts. There are squirresl and rabbits all over our yard. He can go less than a mile to see a dairy farm in action. We have access to llamas and ostriches in addition to your traditional livestock.

Country living is pretty darn cool.

Throughout the Shenandoah Valley, there are a variety of ways to sample the sounds of local musicians.

In Edinburg, the Chamber of Commerce sponsors a Sunday afternoon concert periodically. In Mount Jackson, The Art Group has a raucous First Friday jam session at their gallery on Main Street. And, of course, I have already written about the wonderful, professional fare you can enjoy at the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival - (we already have tickets for Ricky Skaggs.)

In Woodstock, we have Music on Main. In 2001, when I was still working for the local weekly newspaper, I helped convince the owner of the newspaper to allow the town of Woodstock to build a “pocket park” on a lot adjacent to the newspaper.

An old house located on that lot had been torn down a few years earlier and it was just green space. I am not taking credit for the idea. The town came up with the idea, but I immediately supported it and, I’m happy to say, my boss did too.

Over a period of several months, the Main Street Park came into existence. The landscaping is well-established now and it has certainly become a welcome addition to the town. I still eagerly anticipate the blooming of various plants, shrubs and trees. And at Christmas I always enjoy the whimsical decorations that appear to be from a child’s toy chest.

But what I enjoy most are the four or five concerts held in the park in the summertime. One is coming up on Friday, Aug. 1. And while I will be out of town celebrating my Mom’s birthday, I encourage you to come by and give a listen.

The concerts start at 7 p.m. and last until 9. There is no admission fee charged and there is always some sweet treat sponsored by a local business or organization - usually cookies and lemonade, something like that.

The park setting is just terrific. Framed by white gazebos, the lovely lawn begs for a blanket to enjoy a picnic with friends and family. The crowds are never too big - I think the biggest may have been 350 for Robbie Limon who has a very strong local following - usually around 200. So there is plenty of room for everyone with feeling like you are at a Dave Matthews concert.

The atmosphere is lovely. Once the concert starts, you can barely hear the traffic going by on Main Street (which is US 11, so there is always plenty of traffic).

The Instigators will play this Friday. They are a group of local artists who have day jobs like car dealership owner, Sprint store manager and web developer. The important information is that they are really good and play a touch of everything.

The band that is playing in September on Friday, Sept. 5 is one I have not heard and am looking forward to. The Sweet Dixie Band is supposed to be a terrific bluegrass band. You can look them up on the Web and even hear their music.

If you are interested in the Music On Main concerts or the other concerts, you can find listings for upcoming events on www.shenandoah.com as well as other Valley tourism sites. The small town flavor adds charm to the exciting sounds of live artists. It’s a summertime treat you just don’t want to miss!

The wisest counsel I ever received came in the form of a cliché from any number of older, wiser people: Never say never.

It’s a phrase that’s not used so much anymore. I think it may have been replaced by: It is what it is. A statement that’s inanity is matched by its usefulness. A modern-day takeoff on Que sera, sera. I can’t see Doris Day singing “It is what it is,” however. Maybe Queen Latifah.

Back to Never say never. A month ago, I told Olivia that I would never raise another puppy. “It takes a lot of time and patience and it’s a lot of work,” I told her in my best worldwise motherish tone of voice.

Cut to the present. If you were in my home right now, you would find at my feet - beneath the computer desk - a small black dog curled nose to rear in a tight ball. We have adopted – again.

At my job, one of the things I do occasionally is post photos of unwanted pets in residence at the Shenandoah County Animal Shelter. When I posted the pictures about a month ago, I took a look on the website to see who else was in residence. Lots of cats. A few dogs. And on the last page was Cletus, the 11-week-old dachshund/terrier mix.

On my way home at lunchtime to let our two old dogs out, I knew I should just keep driving, but I stopped at the shelter just to take a look at him. I walked into the puppy room and he was the first to come to greet me. He was in a large kennel by himself. The kennel was dedicated to Ben – the favorite border collie of a friend of mine who has been very active in local and statewide rescue and the humane society. It seemed like karma was building on the side of the weiner dog.

I took him from the kennel and he immediately covered me with puppy kisses as I tried to take a look at his face. The terrier influence is evident. He has big feet on his longish body and little turned over ears that look more like a Jack Russell than the soft flaps of a dachshund.

My immediate concern, of course, was “Will my cranky old dogs like a puppy in the house?”

We are down to two dogs. Major is 10 this year and Brownie will be 13. They are both big dogs and big dogs don’t always like small dogs.

called the my husband to tell him I found a wiener-dog. “You found what?” he yelled at me from the field where he was riding a tractor mowing hay.

“A wiener-dog.”

“We don’t need another dog.” He muttered something else under his breath that was lost in the roar of the tractor.

“Whatever. I’ll talk to you later.” I was disappointed. But I knew I could sway him if I really wanted to get the dog.

I went back to work and I just kept thinking about that little dog in the shelter. I had put a hold on “Cletus” – the unfortunate moniker someone had given him. When I called back someone was actually in the shelter and interested in the dog. “What are they like?” I asked – prepared to let him go to a happy family with happy children.

The couple was nice enough, but they seemed a little snooty, the staff member said. “I’ll be there at 3,” I told her.

By the time the Ump came home, I had introduced “Cletus” to Brownie and Major with mixed results.

“Is there a wiener-dog in here?” he asked as he stomped into the house. The little dog’s eyes grew wide when he saw the tall man come through the door and his tail wagged so hard his whole hind end shook. It was love at first sight.

The next day, I was driving to Harrisonburg when I noticed I had a voicemail message on my cell phone. It came in at 4 p.m. the day before. “If you want to get that wiener-dog, go ahead and get him today, I guess. I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

I laughed. Of course, I had already picked up the dog, signed the papers and was playing with him at home by that time he left the message for me giving me permission to get the dog. I know my husband. He has a huge heart for animals in need of rescuing - as do I.

That is who we are. It is what it is.

In every town and hamlet in Shenandoah County, there are special places to visit and shop.

Some offer great food. Others offer unique gifts. And still other places have art and music to nourish the soul.

There is at least one shop in Shenandoah County that has all of those things and more. The Woodstock Cafe and Shoppes is a delightful oasis that casts such a positive aura, you will never go away feeling unfulfilled.

Coe and Jean Sherrard bought the business several years ago and have created a true “destination” for visitors to Woodstock.

On the 4th of July weekend, my mother (who was visiting) and I were puttering around looking for things to do and we decided to stop in at Woodstock Cafe. We thought perhaps we would get a drink and sit for a minute.

What we discovered was a band playing and every seat in the front of the cafe claimed by people who were obviously having a great time. They sang along with the music and clapped and cheered, all the while tasting wines from the wine shop and eating tasty treats from the cafe.

Mom and I went to the back to take a seat. We had decided to order some She Crab Soup with toasted bread. Jean had told me that regulars have come to expect this soup on Fridays - many traveling down the Valley from the city (Northern Virginia and D.C.) for this particular treat.

After our first taste of the soup, we knew exactly what everyone was raving about. I am not a big fan of seafood, but I do like crabmeat that is not too fishy. This soup was wonderful.

Although we could not sit where the action was taking place, we did enjoy listening to the music while supping our soup.

Two days later, we brought my Dad and husband down to hear Dave Elliott play his guitar and sing. He had a list of songs that he was prepared to play and the audience shouted out selections. There were fewer in the crowd on this particular Sunday, but that just meant that we were actually able to see and hear the act!

I have neglected to mention that the Shoppes include everything from stained glass to jewelry. Unique art and pictures, furniture and books, there is a little something for everyone.

Personally, I have bought many tin stars there to add to my collection. Birthday and Christmas presents have come from there. I just bought Mom a frog from there for her Mother’s Day present. I have a hard time walking through without making a purchase. Which truly says more about their affordable eclectic selection than my compulsive shopping habits.

I will warn you that there is some construction going on downtown right now, but there should be no work happening on the weekends. The streetscape in front of the historic courthouse includes undergrounding some utility lines and putting in new traffic lights which has caused some congestion. It will all be over this fall, but it certainly is no reason to keep you from stopping at the Woodstock Cafe.

You can look them up on the Internet at www.cafeshoppes.com.

I mentioned the North Fork of the Shenandoah River in an earlier column, but I spent most of the time writing about how amazing the Valley looks from the air.

The river is just as beautiful up close and personal.

The North Fork runs through Shenandoah County and there are many opportunities to stop and enjoy the natural beauty of the quiet waters. Low water bridges take drivers from bank to bank providing the opportunity to take a look at the river from midstream without stepping into a boat.

When I worked at the newspaper, I had the opportunity to ride the river in a canoe operated by a local fishing guide. Just as the sky gave me a unique view of the area where I live, I got an entirely different view of the river from the middle of it.

There are a few places where the North Fork is quite wide, but the area of my trip between Woodstock and Edinburg was more intimate. I could see wildlife and livestock along the banks almost as easily as I could see the fishing slipping by under the glassy surface.

Shenandoah County is a very karst region with very interesting rock formations along the river as well as many bedrock ledges that cross the floor of the North Fork perpendicular to the flow of the river.

My trip was in late spring and the water level was high so we encountered no problems on our trips. I have been told that there are several spots where canoeists, kayakers and those tubing have to walk their transportation through the shallow areas. When the water is low and the agricultural runoff is high, algae and other water plants can choke the river and make boating very difficult.

The low water bridges can present a problem too. As can the six dams found between Timberville in northern Rockingham County and Strasburg in northern Shenandoah County.

On our trip, we spotted many wild ducks and even a heron in the early morning hours. I felt as if I had stumbled upon a magical spot when the heron took its long-legged walk.

There are several boat landings and many opportunities to just sit by the river and listen to the laughing waters. Which reminds me, did you know that the song “O, Shenandoah” is not about the Shenandoah River? The Shenandoah in the well-known folk song is actually an Indian maiden.

For more information, you can check out the Friends of the North Fork of the Shenandoah River at www.fnfsr.org for detailed environmental reports and efforts to clean and monitor the river. This group has spent more than 20 years very effectively protecting this lovely natural resource.

It’s coming. In fact, it will be here on Friday. The fabulous Fourth of July.

At least for those of us who are fans of picnics and fireworks, the 4th is a day to anticipate.

I am excited to say that we will be attending the fireworks display at the Shenandoah County Fairgrounds this Friday AND we will be having dinner and watching the fireworks at Bryce Resort on Saturday.

Most children love fireworks (after they get over the noise) and I was no exception. Growing up, my summers typically ended with an exclamation point as the fireworks exploded over the harness racing track at the West Virginia State Fair in Lewisburg.

The West Virginia fair usually took place on my birthday week (though it is much earlier now) and it always felt extra special. It was the last hoorah of summer before we had to put away our shorts and go back to school. (Back in the days when shorts weren’t allowed - can you imagine?)

One year on the 4th of July I was in Nags Head, N.C., with a friend and his family. They rented one of those enormous beach houses complete with its own pool on the first floor and a hot tub on the deck of the second floor. From the hot tub we watched fireworks displays up and down the beachfront.

I have watched the fireworks in New Market from the roadside above the Shenandoah Valley Travel Association. I sat on the grassy bank above the Strasburg town park and listened as fireworks bounced off the mountains and lit up Signal Knob.

One year, some friends and I went to Half Moon Beach for the fireworks display. I don’t know if they still do this, but they used to set off the fireworks from the middle of the water in the old quarry. It was pretty cool until one of the fireworks missfired and instead of heading skyward, it shot right at us - blazing through the wooded area like a scene from “Platoon.”

I am happy to tell you - especially if you live in the Shenandoah Valley or will be visiting this holiday weekend - that there are plenty of pyrotechnic displays planned for the weekend. I will have to go no farther than a couple of miles to see the one in Woodstock. The people hired to do the show are the same ones who lit up the skies last year and, believe me, it is a show worth seeing.

While no other activities usually go on at the fairgrounds - people would rather sit in the parking area by their cars than in the grandstand - this year the 4-H Dairy Club will be selling ice cream at the dairy barn before the fireworks show.

Wherever you have to go this Fourth of July, I hope you find a night sky that is full of bright lights. Make sure you watch the eyes of your children and grandchildren. I guarantee you are making memories.

When I wrote about the isolated beauty of the Orkney Springs Hotel, I mentioned that it is the site of the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival’s summer concert series. This deserves a little more explanation.

On selected weekends in the summer - the last concert usually being on Labor Day weekend - the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival (SVMF) concerts are held on the grounds behind the hotel. A large outdoor pavilion is surrounded by a large lawn area. Concert attendees may sit in chairs under the pavilion or they may choose lawn tickets which gives them an opportunity to set up a picnic supper and enjoy a pleasant evening.

I have been there countless times. When I worked at the newspaper, I attended concerts and the summer craft fair to do articles. But more often than not I was there to enjoy both the music and the tranquil setting.

This is a terrific place to take guests because the experience is so unique. The Fairfax Symphony Orchestra has performed there for many years and they are a personal favorite. Lying on the ground, looking up at the stars and listening to Bach or Beethoven or my favorite - Mozart - is an experience that feeds my soul.

Last summer, my husband and I took his daughter, Olivia, and her brand new fiance to the music festival to hear the Blind Boys of Alabama – a gospel group that has been singing together for more than 60 years.

Their type of gospel is infused with the original DNA from which soul, rock n’ roll and jazz all sprang. They sang spirituals, familiar hymns and even modern gospel songs written by Ben Harper.

The song that triggered my “moment” was Amazing Grace.

The music started, familiar strains of an eerie song. Olivia leaned back and said, “Is that what I think it is?” I looked at Kenny and said “That’s House of the Rising Sun, isn’t it?”

And it was. There was no mistaking those very familiar opening chords of the song recorded in 1964 by The Animals - the first folk rock tune to top the charts.

It was glorious. They may have been blind old men, but their voices are magnificent – seasoned and rich. In an industry that glorifies youth, the Blind Boys are diamonds forged by years; wine aged to perfection. Like I said, food for the soul.

I have had many memorable moments at the music festival. I will never forget the year that we were there on the peak night of the Perseid Meteor shower and we watched the shooting stars while we listened to the Fairfax Symphony play Beethoven.

Last year, my “moment” was this overwhelming feeling of understanding the lyrics to “Amazing Grace” and the irony of listening to a group of blind men singing about being able to see. The starlight sky above. The incredible voices and music. The feeling of being a small part of the galaxy, but not feeling insignificant because of that amazing grace.

This year, the festival is going to have many awesome concerts. Here is a brief schedule. You can find all the information you need at www.musicfest.org.

July 18 - Kathy Mattea

July 19 - Smithsonian Masterworks Ensemble

July 25, 26 - Fairfax Symphony Orchestra

Aug. 8 - Edwin McCain

Aug. 9 - Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder

Aug. 30 - Eddie From Ohio

Aug. 31 - Cherish the Ladies

If you haven’t heard of the artist performing, there is more information on the website and you can always use Google for more info. We are thinking about the Ricky Skaggs concert. Eddie from Ohio is terrific - they played in Woodstock (VA) a couple of years ago.

We are certainly fortunate to have the Music Festival in our backyard. Come on down and give it a listen!

The Shenandoah Valley is known for her winding rivers.

In Shenandoah County, the North Fork of the Shenandoah River is famous for its seven bends which can be seen clearly from the Woodstock Fire Tower just east of the town of Woodstock.

But the best way to take a look at those bends is from the air.

I am not an experienced flyer. Most of my travel is done on the ground and I am fine with that. For a birthday present several years ago, my husband came up with this great idea. This guy that he umpires with owns a small plane which he houses at Shenandoah Valley Regional Airport in Weyers Cave.

I have to admit, I was not thrilled with the idea. I have more than a little acrophobia and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to fly in a plane so small.

The reality was much more terrifying than my imagination. To paint the picture for you, imagine that you stuck wings on a 1974 VW Beetle, took the tail pipes off and inserted a much more elaborate dashboard.

We took Olivia, Kenny’s daughter, with us. She got to sit up front with the pilot while we squeezed into the back seat which was so tight the only way we could sit comfortably was with Kenny’s arm around me (which, considering the situation, was not a bad idea.)

Once we took off, everything was out of my control, so I chose to lock my fear in the back of my brain and enjoy the ride.

To help orient you, in case you are unfamiliar with the area, the airport is south of Bridgewater. So the plan was to fly up the Valley to Woodstock and return to the airport.

The view from the sky was amazing. I felt like the first person who had ever flown - no description I had ever read came close to doing it justice. Yes, the fields looked like patchwork quilts - some with crops, some with hay, some with pastures and little dots of livestock.

To say it was breath-taking even seems like a cheap comparison. I felt like I understood the Valley better - like I was seeing her for the first time. Tall mountains - North Mountain (the first range of the Allegheny Mountains) on the northwest and the Blue Ridge on the southeast - stood like stalwart protectors on either side of the verdant valley.

I could see farms and silos, evens abandoned rock quarries with water as blue as the sky.

Landmarks looked like game pieces on a Monopoly board. Schools, factories, JMU. Interstate 81 was a grey zipper that joined the sides of the Valley in the middle. The exit and entrance ramps looked like loops of ribbon.

Route 11 was visible too, connecting the Valley towns like a spidery vein. The Valley Turnpike (or Valley Pike) is one of the oldest, most historic transportation routes in the United States. Before the time of settlers, Indians followed buffalo herds along that route. It was one of the first early roads to be macadamized.

We passed over Stonewall High School and as we approached Central, where my husband teaches, I saw the beginning of the famous seven bends.

From the tower, the bends are much closer and look wider. From the air, the bends are tight. I read once that geographers refer to the bends as incised meanders.

As we made a wide, swooping turn over Woodstock to head back down the Valley to return to the airport, the plane dipped a little and shuddered. Air currents rippling off the mountain nudged the plane with the ease of a ripple pushing a leaf downstream.

When we were back on the ground, I felt amazed and humbled at the same time. (And more than a little grateful to be back in my natural grounded state).

This birthday trip, however, fundamentally changed the way I think of the place where I choose to live and I feel closer to understanding very nature of the beautiful Shenandoah Valley.

In the middle of Mount Jackson, when you are driving on US 11, you will see a sign for the westward-winding Route 263.

Following this road to its end promises to be a real treat for at its conclusion is the village gem, Orkney Springs. One word of warning is that the road coming over the mountain is a little twisty and turny. It always gives my mom a headache, but it doesn’t bother me.

The first time I drove to Orkney Springs it was to experience the wonders of the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival. I plan to write more about that terrific event at a later date.

I can recall driving into the Orkney community dotted with white houses, a small country store, post office and rescue squad building. A few yards up the road I came upon the awe-inspiring beauty of the Orkney Springs Hotel.

Now known as The Virginia House, the four-story white clapboard structure features windows that appear to be floor to ceiling with long, green shutters. It was built as a spa in 1873 and was restored in 1987 when it was bought by the Episcopal diocese which owns Shrine Mont, a religious retreat truly at the end of Route 263 - just above the hotel.

In its early days as a spa, many people from the city (Washington, D.C.) traveled by train to Mount Jackson and made the journey to Orkney to “take the waters” at what was billed as a healing “cold water” spring that were reported to have curative powers.

I was told at one time that Robert E. Lee’s father, “Lighthorse” Harry Lee - a Revolutionary War hero -was an early investor in the spa. But I think the truth might be that he owned the property before the resort was built.

At the time of its construction, the hotel featured the largest ballroom without supporting pillars - 50×100 feet with ceilings that are 18 feet high. Standing in the doorway it is easy to imagine belles and beaus dancing in turn of the century clothes. There are rumors that Confederate soldiers rested there before moving further up the Valley - certainly plausible, but not documented.

There is something so majestic and magical about the 96,000 square-foot stately structure combined with the peace and tranquility of the little village of Orkney Springs. You really do feel like you have stumbled upon a hidden treasure when you first spy it.

In the late 1980s, when the building was being renovated, they tented the entire structure to kill the termites that were plaguing the wooden hotel. Of course, that was a pretty cool story for a local newspaper, so the photographer and I went out to watch the process of covering the entire hotel with a giant blue canvas.

More magical experiences were nights when I laid on a blanket and watches the stars while listening to an orchestra play.

If you are looking for a unique spot to visit in Shenandoah County - Orkney Springs should be on your list.

After I wrote the last post, it made me start thinking about my most favorite remote areas in Shenandoah County.

Some of you are probably thinking all of Shenandoah County is remote - and comparatively speaking that is probably true. But some spots are a little more off the beaten path than others.

When I first moved to Woodstock in 1985 I was driving a 1974 VW Super Beetle. I drove that Bug all over this county, looking for interesting stories and meeting great people. Those early years in Woodstock, when my friend Adam would come up for the weekend, were great for exploration. We were Lewis and Clark, claiming the twisty mountain roads and the graveled country lanes. Well, we were probably more like Lewis and Martin or Martin and Rowan if the truth were told. But we had a great time on the road in Shenandoah County.

Last Saturday was a spectacular day. Bright blue skies swabbed with puffy white clouds and cool temperatures begged me to jump in the Charger despite the rising price of gas.

I pointed Duke (my Inferno red = really, that is the official color - Dodge) toward the western mountains. With my camera in my lap, I was ready to capture the beauty of this county that I have lived in and loved more than 20 years.

Route 263 snakes along the western mountain slopes from the middle of Shenandoah County to her northern boundary. Known as Back Road, it is a very popular secondary road - especially on the weekends. Don’t expect to travel fast on this road. You might feel the wind in your hair for a mile or two, but then you get behind a tractor or a horse trailer or some other slow-moving vehicle.

Truthfully, I don’t mind. And if it is bugging me, I just ditch off onto one of the side roads which is what I did on Saturday. Only I jumped off onto a different road than I intended.

Before long the road began to elevate as it wound around the mountain on turns so tight you could swear you touch the tail end of your car.

Route 600. Zepp Mountain.

You know, I was born and raised in the mountains. My parents live on a mountain facing another mountain. But I have always had a problem with heights. Acrophobia. Some times are better than others. I was hopeful on this trip that I might conquer my fear of the mountain and get a cool picture from the top.

As you near the top of Zepp Mountain, off to the right is a spectacular view of the floor of the Shenandoah Valley.

I have no idea what the elevation is of Zepp Mountain, but my ears started popping about halfway up. When I neared the top, I could feel my pulse starting to pick up speed even as I slowed Duke to a crawl.

It is a very narrow road and those who know her twists and turns by heart travel briskly on the mountain. Fortunately, no one was behind me, but I did meet a couple of cars. I clung to my side of the road.

Once I made it to the top, I did not dare look out over the guardrail because I knew my heart would leap into my throat. I passed the overlook and turned around. Driving against the mountain made me feel safe enough to point my camera out the window and capture a nice shot.

I didn’t have time to travel on into Zepp, but I encourage you to go there. It is quiet and beautiful with a sprinkling of houses.

Orndorff’s Rainbow Trout Farm is in Zepp, just after you get to the bottom of the mountain. They are open Friday through Sunday and other times by appointment. If you enjoy trout and want to fish without a challenge - say with your kids or grandkids - this is great fun.

I did some other re-exploring over the weekend, but I will save that for a later date. Next up. The Shenandoah Valley Music Festival.