By
David Gould
Like
two vast cruise ships moored in the Allegheny foothills, The Homestead and The
Greenbrier embody the jarring but wonderful concept of elegance amid wilderness.
Resembling one another more than they resemble any other American resorts, these
two institutions evoke a rivalry akin to Athens-Sparta, Oxford-Cambridge or even
Coke-Pepsi.
I’ve
had the good fortune to stay at both pleasure palaces multiple times over the
past decade, almost always following up a Homestead stay with an immediate trip across
the Virginia-West Virginia border to The Greenbrier. Not officially, not even
consciously, I’ve been at work on a which-takes-the-cake comparison article this
whole time. Even fledgling resort-ologists naturally study the two landmarks
side by side and begin looking for slight edges in one department or the other.
That curiosity is what sends us out for an extra nine holes in the late
afternoon, or scanning back through the wine list a third or fourth time Certainly, back up to the dessert buffet. Moments of rare enjoyment pile up
in my mind from these visits. I’ve had a golden eagle fly 15 feet from my head
while on the Cascades Hike at The Homestead. I’ve taken a mind-boggling tour of
the government’s Cold War evacuation facility at The Greenbrier. I’ve played a
combined dozen-plus rounds of golf at the two properties. I have seen—at
near-completion stage—the nationally celebrated Greenbrier Sporting Club, a
separate entity from The Greenbrier that extends its famous brand name into the
heady world of high-end real estate. I’ve checked out the cool little ski hill
behind The Homestead and bowled my personal-best string in The Greenbrier’s posh
little bowling center—without even using the gutter tubes. All this grueling
field work along with unswerving journalistic objectivity qualifies me to
analyze the two icons in detail, add up all the style points and offer an honest
summation. The battle for bragging rights in the Allegheny
Mountains now commences.
First
Impressions In
aerial
photographs, the white-columned grandeur of The Greenbrier and the
red-brick beauty of The Homestead are equally bewitching. When you
arrive in
person, however, that road into The Homestead climbs up a
rise then curves
downhill at an ideal angle to reveal the hotel’s
majestic central tower and its
adjoining wings—glimpses of golf to the
right, rocking chairs on the porch,
Jeeves-like bellmen always ready to
greet and serve. Arriving at The Greenbrier,
you don’t get the same
visual sweep or comparable elbow room to load and unload.
Old-World
Golf Course Many
of you know
that the first tee of The Homestead’s Old Course has been in
continuous
operation longer than any other first tee in America. That
obscures the
fact that it’s an awkward, low-lying tee box on a dodgy opening
hole.
Having offered that flash of cold criticism, I now freely profess my
undying love for this 113-year-old golf course (Donald Ross and William
S. Flynn
are your layout men), which takes its players on a swift,
spirited ramble up and
down valley slopes. That said, there’s no
denying that the Old White, designed
by C.B. Macdonald and Seth Raynor
and beloved by Greenbrier visitors since 1913,
is a more solid design
and a more demanding test of skill than the Old Course at
The
Homestead.
Overall
Golf Course Brochures
on golf
at The Homestead call Flynn’s 1923 Cascades Course the “finest mountain
golf course in the U.S.” I freely concur. When I dream
about
golf, in my dream I’m hitting a pure shot into the par-3 fourth, putting
out then crossing the street to start pounding my way over the
mysterious,
mountainous, wide, wonderful, slightly blind par-5 fifth.
At The Greenbrier,
there is first-class golf. There’s a Seth Raynor
course (The Greenbrier 18) that
became a Nicklaus redesign where they
played the 1979 Ryder Cup. There’s a
sporty, modern Bob Cupp-redesigned
course (The Meadows) on which I’ve played an
interesting match or two.
And now there’s a swank Fazio installation, down the
road at the
Sporting Club. But there’s no Cascades.
Post-Round
Libation Setting The
19th
hole at the The Greenbrier’s main golf clubhouse (named for Sam Snead and
decorated appropriately) has seating you sink thankfully into, large
but
unobtrusive TVs and free-pouring bartenders who can tell in a
glance if you shot
a nice number or played like crap. Homestead
golfers can do the drink-and-square-up ritual immediately after golf at
the
Cascades or Lower Cascades, but there is so much to do back at the
main hotel
one tends to scrape the spikes clean and jump right into a
Homestead shuttle. Most
Homestead regulars, arriving at the hotel in
early evening, pop straight into
Sam Snead’s Tavern, where the
memorabilia, the buzz and the village-pub setting
of the place will
provide as fine a setting for tale-swapping as any golfer
requires.
Lobby
Experience It’s
often been said
that The Greenbrier is much more a draw for the white-shoe,
Social
Register type of patron than The Homestead is. Which is why my wife—whose
favorite indoor sport is watching people pay full retail in exclusive
boutiques
without giving it much thought—prefers prowling The
Greenbrier’s concourse of
shops more than The Homestead’s. The
Homestead’s main gathering space is grander and
more relaxing, yes, but
The Greenbrier’s is livelier and better for
people-watching.
Registration
& Check-Out Actually,
I’m
placing the contestants in a two-way tie for last place on this
point.
Greenbrier check-in takes place in a dim section of lobby with
poor feng shui
and lots of commercial signage promoting real
estate
sales and whatnot. Taking
care of business at The
Homestead front desk
can involve lengthy waits and
uncomfortably public interchanges about
issues like disputed
charges or delayed
room availability.
Guest
Rooms At
The Homestead, our
family of
four once took a pair of adjoining rooms right on
the main
level, with its own screen porch looking onto the hotel’s tower façade;
we still talk about that stroke of fine luck. And if you want modern
contours
and design touches, The Homestead does boast a new
guest-room
wing that also
contains its important meeting
spaces. Have to say,
however, that in general my
guest rooms
at The Greenbrier have been a
little bit bigger and a little more
deluxe. I tend to make my peace
with (more than embrace) the
famous Dorothy
Draper décor, but that
“Sleepy Time Down South”
sign they post, asking for quiet
in the
hallways, is an
all-time great Greenbrier touch.
Dining
(Part I, country breakfast) The
Homestead
breakfast buffet is the only setting in
which I
have: eaten grits; eaten fish
before noon; eaten six
different
breakfasts in one sitting. At The Greenbrier
you
order a very fine
breakfast off a menu. It just ain’t the
same.
Dining
(Part II, main-room dinner) There
is perfect
scale and an urbane tone to the evening meal at the 1766
Grille at
The Homestead. After many an impressive dinner in the immense
main dining rooms
of both resorts, I had an “aha” moment one
night in
the 1766, selecting this
beautifully lit room as the
dinnertime winner
at either property. Then a few
nights later
I made my first visit to
The Greenbrier’s Tavern Room, and found it
equally elegant, with
excellent service and splendidly
prepared meals. Plus a
top-notch wine
bar and cellar. Dead
heat?
Dining
(Part III, side rooms) The
pulse
of The
Greenbrier is indeed its concourse of lobby shops leading around to
the
Dorothy Draper room, which with its white wicker and
black-and-white
tile
floor is hardly your oak-paneled masculine
setting. And
so, for me to say it’s a
fun place to eat a very good
lunch
must be categorized a confession. So be it.
There is no
correlative facility at The Homestead—its casual lunch offering is
out
of the main hotel by the golf practice range and the
outdoor
pool.
Taking-the-Waters
Experience The
Jefferson
Pools at The Homestead constitute perhaps
the best-preserved
“archive
spa” in the U.S. A long float
there is guaranteed
to
relieve stress in part because
it takes you back in time a couple of
centuries. I rank it as
the definitive pre-modern amenity at
either
property. At
The Greenbrier, the original glory of the
Harris &
Richards designed Bath
Wing is retained some 90
years
later in the
resort’s main indoor pool, with its
substantial columns and arches and
its seductive
natural
lighting. True to The
Greenbrier’s inclination
towards chintz
and glitz, those neoclassical
architectural elements are
painted a soft, boudoir
pink courtesy of the Dorothy
Draper
redesign of
the
late 1940s (after the Army decommissioned the military
hospital
this great resort had been converted to during World
War
II).
Overall
Experience For
all the intense
Early
American history embodied at these two
institutions—which
date
back to the 18th century and involved
visits by seemingly every
U.S.
president who wore facial
hair—the most
meaningful historical element
at either
The Greenbrier or The
Homestead stretches less than five
decades into the past. In
our post-9/11
world, the
Greenbrier Bunker,
the once-secret
relocation facility for the
U.S.
Congress in the event
of
nuclear attack, is one
of the most poignant, stirring
and
significant
living-history sites anywhere in the country. Due to reopen
next
year, this huge, Cold War lair built in the name of “government
continuity”
absolutely requires a visit. (My recent tour of
the London
underground War Rooms and the new Churchill Museum
adjacent
to it—two weeks
before the
July terrorist
bombings there—only
deepens that conviction.)
So, if you
haven’t been to either resort, the Bunker Factor tilts
the balance toward The
Greenbrier. If you’ve already had that
gasp-inducing experience, and you’re
weighing these two
Allegheny
options on their merits, I would point you to The
Homestead. It’s less
buttoned-up and a bit less of an
acquired
taste. Its golf
experience
has more of a
pilgrimage
feel—whereas the Greenbrier setup can feel
not
unlike an
excellent suburban club.
When you’ve been to one of these great
resorts you are obliged to go
to the other before you return to the first. If
you’re headed
that way
before the bunker tours start
up again, try The
Homestead. If not, book
a stay at
The Greenbrier.
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