Opting for the Henry Clay Inn for a relaxing couple of days in Virginia is a good choice. Elegant yet casual and comfortable, located in the heart of town which makes it great for folks who enjoy walking and seeing new things, and with a staff helpful and happy to see you, it’s simply a pleasure. There are other hotels in Ashland, but none is as convenient and close to everything as the Inn. Sitting On the Porch

Andrew and William, two of the staff members at the Inn, were both eager to explain what they like about the town, what is there for others to see and enjoy and where to eat. Of course their first choice is the Inn itself, where breakfast, lunch and dinner are served every day but Tuesday and Wednesday. So, at least for me, for a Wednesday night dinner, they recommended the Iron Horse.

Of course the restaurant would be called Iron Horse. Situated half a block away from the Henry Clay Inn, it’s on the main street right across from those railroad tracks that split the main street. The term Iron Horse refers to steam locomotives and dates back to the 1800s when horses still powered most machinery.

As everything either William or Andrew suggested, it was a great choice. The decor of course, is railroad focused, and there’s a very large locomotive model right adjacent to the tables lining the windows looking out over the town and the railroad tracks. Here again, the staff went out of its way to ensure everything was perfect and the menu was not only enticing but unique in many ways.

From Truffle fries and fried oysters among the appetizers, to two homemade soup varieties every day, to simple fair like double hamburgers, quesadilla and pulled chicken BBQ, it’s a rather uncommon menu even before getting to the entrees.

The main course has daily specials, but on the menu are short ribs, steaks, salmon and a Chili Pecan Chicken served with a Makers Mark Whiskey gravy. A seafood lover of all varieties, I opted for a salmon steak special for that night, outstanding, perfectly cooked, and served with a maple syrup sauce. Incredible. Portions are so large, I couldn’t make it through dessert though the pecan pie sounded outstanding. The variety of wines offered at all prices and from all over the world also made this dinner a standout.

After a couple of days of walking, visiting shops, the library, Randolph Macon College, and meeting great friendly people, after nights of enjoying sleep in a second floor room overlooking the train station, it was time to think about catching the train back north the following late morning.

What if there’s a freight train passing through and Amtrak is on the opposite track, I asked Andrew? How can I be sure I’ll be able to get across to the other side, especially since you have no signals or anyway of knowing which track it’s coming on until you see the headlight in the distance? Not to worry, Anthony soothed, I’ll be sure you get on the train. But first, after breakfast in the morning, take in another tradition here in Ashland. Have one of our specialty drinks, sit on the porch and watch the trains go by.

An alcoholic drink in the morning I asked? Your choice, he teased, but a lot of people like it.

He showed me the menu of cocktails, which included Manhattans, and Old fashioneds, of course in the south both are made with Jim Beam. There were also Mojitos, Moscow Mules and even a Peach Mule, made with Peach Vodka, lime juice and ginger beer.

But I was more attracted to the names Andrew himself had designed for drinks he concocted. There was the Railside Relaxation, the Painkiller, and the Ashland Smash, a tall drink made with Bacardi Gold, St. Germaine, grapefruit juice and tonic. Secretariat was born here, so of course there was a Kentucky Derby, made with Woodfords, simple syrup and mint.

I liked the Train Station for its name, and though it was barely 11 o’clock in the morning, I sat on that spacious porch in a big comfortable chair, watched the activity on the street, and Andrew served a tall glass, complete with lots of ice and a straw, and I had my first Train Station: Belle Isle moonshine, iced tea, simple syrup, mint and honey. A distinct pleasure.

When it was time for Amtrak to arrive, true to his word, Andrew was out on the porch, walking across the street with me and spotting the train in the distance…on tracks on the opposite side. It was easy to cross, thank him for such service, greet the conductor when the train pulled in, and head back to Newark after a relaxing and unforgettable few days in Virginia.

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Ashland Virginia

It’s the town where the famed Secretariat was born and bred, Big Red, the thoroughbred who broke all kinds of records in winning the Triple Crown and is still considered the best race horse of all time.

It is the birthplace of Henry Clay, an American lawyer and Senator who later represented Kentucky and ran for the Presidency three times . It’s the home of Randolph Macon College, the oldest still operating Methodist founded college in the nation founded in 1830.

It is the closest town to Red Hill, the last home and burial place of Patrick Henry, one of the most compelling of all speakers during the Revolution, one of the first voices raised against paying taxes to England.

Yet what draws friends, neighbors and visitors together in Ashland Virginia is trains.

Trains of the CSX Line, Amtrak , Chesapeake and Albemarle, and any other railroads that come through. Trains that carry passengers to Richmond or Florida, to Williamsburg or New York, trains 100 to 150 freight cars long carrying fuel, food, and products from numerous companies that need to make deliveries all over the nation and keep business going.

They all pass through Ashland. Right smack down the middle of Railroad Avenue, the main street in this Hanover County city of approximately 110,000 residents.

It was the railroad that drew me to Ashland as well, for the relaxing and beautiful ride through cities ,forests and countryside from Newark to this city about an hour north of Richmond.

I also wondered how a town fares when life literally has to stop and wait while trains pass through. It’s a city that if you’re on the wrong side of the tracks and you want to get on, you could miss your train. Granted, you can generally see the passenger train coming from a distance far enough away that you can safely cross and board.

But then there are times when a freight train might be passing through in the opposite direction on the other track and there’s no way of crossing. The locals say that happens to one or two would be passengers every week. Easy to solve, if Amtrak wanted to put up a signal and announce in advance which track its train is arriving on.

For this trip, excitement and fun started not long after Amtrak left Newark Penn Station . It’s easy to get into conversations in the dining car if you’re not one of the many who apparently start their work day there, immediately setting up their computers and communicating with it throughout the five or six hour trip. I, however, was more fascinated with the traveler who was shuffling, dealing, and spreading out cards across the table, obviously reading Tarot cards.

My conversation with Raven started once he noticed my interest, confirmed he was doing a reading of himself and asked if I wanted him to read my cards. I agreed, and it was a great experience. But even more interesting I learned as we chatted a while that Raven had been an addict for many years, free from his addiction for more than 15 years and now successfully working at a mission helping others to overcome their own addictions and start on better lives for themselves.

He said he chose to quit drugs because “I got tired of not feeling good about myself” and learned there were many finer things in life after visiting Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Oregon where he was fascinated by its role in providing breeding, nesting and restring areas for tens of thousands of birds along the Pacific Flyway. You can learn a lot when talking to strangers on a train.

Then there was the activity in the adjacent passenger car where a passenger declined to show a ticket, said she was heading to Richmond and couldn’t find her ticket or receipt. She would have to get off the next station she was told by the conductor, and she nodded in agreement. But she failed to get off at the next station as she had said, and crew members warned her police would escort her off at the station after that, still two or three stops before her destination. Indeed, when she once again failed to get off, police boarded the train, emptied the car and had passengers wait on the platform, then located the woman and courteously escorted her off the train. As the rest of the passengers re-embarked and the train pulled away, we could see the woman talking with the officers, apparently in her continuing effort to show she indeed was a paying customer.

About an hour outside of Ashland, my phone rang. It was a call from William at the Henry Clay Inn, checking to confirm my reservation and assuring me he would be at the inn waiting my arrival. “Just get off the train and we’re right across the street,” he said.

Oh, that Tarot card reading? Raven had told me to concentrate on a specific decision I would be making in the future while holding the cards, take a few deep breaths and relax. Then he spread out the cards and told me to pick ten which he then arranged, face side down.

Through the next half hour or so, he told me I’ve had great success in the past, will continue to have it, and am outspoken, people know where they stand with me, and I am unafraid of repercussions. He told me I am honest, but would be a better person if I lived more spiritually and did not depend on myself so much before making decisions.

People respect me, he continued, but I need to be more generous. People listen to me, too, he said, and find me both truthful and knowledgeable. As for that decision I would be making? Raven pointed to a card that spelled success but said I have to look into it more spiritually before making that decision.

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