Adventures of the Third Lost Expedition, Part VI: A new year, a new galaxy.

The aquarium tanks still are an attraction at the Grapevine

Jan. 11, 1985

Adventures of the Third Lost Expedition, Part VI:

A new year, a new galaxy.

CAPTAIN’S LOG, BAR DATE XXVIII: The Third Lost Expedition had every reason to celebrate. Not only was this a new year, but it also was the night on which they would cross over into a new galaxy, their home galaxy, Erie County. With its proximity and its 4 a.m. bar closings, it would greatly ease their quest to quaff a libation in every public licensed premises on fabled Federal Route 62 from Niagara Falls to El Paso, Texas. Or as close to El Paso as they could get.

        But leaving Niagara County was far from simple. The crew, charmed during the December trek by the knick-knacks and the hospitality at Taggart’s Tavern, 3168 Niagara Falls Blvd., Town of Wheatfield, decided that this would make a dandy staging area for January’s safari. And a good place to have a Friday fish fry besides. What they hadn’t counted on was just how many other people thought the same thing.

        A waiting list greeted them on their arrival. The Captain proposed a reservation for at least a dozen, maybe more, and was told there might only be enough fish to cover the group ahead of him. A waitress glided past with an order and he could see why. The fabulous filets hung right off the edge of the plate.

        To make the most of the interval until a table opened up, the Captain gathered a small scouting party to beam back to a way station that was closed when they passed it in December. The Creekside at 2993 Falls Blvd. looked like little more than a shanty from the outside. Inside, it lived up to its promise.

        Most basement rec rooms are bigger than the Creekside. Few are as cluttered. Amid the artifacts just inside the door was a porcelain fixture, the trophy from the annual Toilet Bowl softball game with the Meeting Place. Posted on the wall was a notice advertising the services of Clyde the Guide.

        To be sure, there was a bar, capacity of about six. And there were four tables, one of them a pool table. Obtaining a round from the grizzled bartender, the foursome plugged in the Genesee Beer light above the green felt and chose up sides – the Billiards Technician and the Native American Guide vs. the Captain and the Chief Science Officer. They had to dodge a snowblower to line up some of the shots.

        They rematerialized at Taggart’s just in time to claim seats with the rest of the crew. Happily, some of the fish remained. The rest satisfied themselves with fried shrimp, roast beef sandwiches and remarks about the endless stream of jolly pop standards at the fingertips of the house organist, who doubled on harmonica.

        The new Sawyer Creek Hotel at Nash Road, the final stop for December’s outing, was aglow with neon beer signs this time around. The safari sped past it to Baker’s Place at 3312 Falls Blvd., only to find the sign dismantled and business ceased. From there, it was on to the last Niagara County stop, the Rhineland Restaurant at 3386 Falls Blvd.

        The Rhineland’s reputation for German cuisine has gone into eclipse, but remnants of the old regime remain, notably the murals of landscapes along the Rhine in the dining room and an unconventional anti-choking poster. A menu posted in the bar promised sandwiches, wings and a $3.75 Friday fish fry. Christmas tinsel still sparkled from the beams in the low-ceilinged bar.

        The expeditioners, however, were hungry for fun and games. With the bartender’s assent, they pushed back the dinner tables and rolled out the pool table. Others perused the bowling machine, the darkened Pac-Man, which needed a plug adapter, and a newly-installed poker-playing video game, which seemed to offer no test of skill whatever. No reward either, although the barkeep suggested he might offer a prize for high score.

        From there, it was a long flight through the now-slippery night, past Wurlitzer Park and North Tonawanda’s residential fringe, past the cemeteries to the subsequent commercial strip. Some of the trekkers, believing unassuming Fontaine’s Spaghetti House in King’s Plaza at 3035 Falls Blvd., to be a dark star, diverted to the Pizza Hut across the street.

        But Fontaine’s was surrounded by enough parked cars to indicate life forms within. Sure enough, they fairly filled the cramped, red-carpeted, suburban-gothic bar. Centerpiece was a square chocolate cake in honor of not one, not two, but three birthdays in the crowd.

        The adjoining dining room was closed, though the menu blackboard still proclaimed a $3.99 fish fry and a $6.95 fisherman’s platter. A sign on the wall announced a 3 to 7 p.m. happy hour featuring $1 bar drinks, 75-cent drafts and free hors d’oeuvres. TV news announced the latest Sabres victory while one of the regulars left the crew awestruck at his skill at Super Pac-Man.

        Since the Pizza Hut poured beer, the troupe felt a pitcher or two would be appropriate, then decided to wash it down with a few pan pizzas. The staff there showed remarkable forbearance in the face of this descent upon their domain, coming a scant 20 minutes before the midnight closing.

        Having planted their flag firmly in Erie County soil, the safari set off in search of a nightcap, only to find the next two outposts – the Boulevard Pub and the Roadhouse – closed for the night. So much for the 4 a.m. advantage. Undeterred, they pressed on to what used to be Gandy’s, a renowned fish restaurant at 2545 Falls Blvd. and Ellicott Creek Road. Recent months have seen it remodeled and rechristened the Grapevine.

        So genteel is the new establishment that there’s nary a beer sign to be seen. Pastels and blond woodwork predominate. Cushioned sofas and chairs augment the bar stools. For diversion, there’s a tank of tropical fish. “This,” remarked the Neon Knight, “is a whole new galaxy.”

        “Are you Aquarius?” one of the well-oiled travelers asked one of the waitresses.

        “No, the name is Barbara and I’m a Libra,” she responded, shooing them out of the freshly-vacuumed dining room.

        At length, they all sank into a cushioned corner, where the other waitress, Chris the Cancerian, earned the distinction of being the first to recognize the troupe for what it was. Manager Mike Koligowski graciously sent over a round a drinks. Yes, the crew agreed, there’s no galaxy like home.