Adventure 128: Lake Havasu City/Post B

Another day is paradise.

I've given the wily cager a day off. We'll have a sudden death playoff for the Lake Havasu Open tomorrow morning. This morning I went with Mike to walk Casey, his Golden Retriever, down at the dog park. Of course, Mike knew everyone there (And their dogs). He says his day is not complete unless he can scoop up a large warm pile of dog poop. We made a few laps around the park, while Casey frolicked with his buddies. Big dogs on one side; small dogs on the other side. When we got back, Mike cooked us Huckleberry Pancakes and bacon (It really was lakin'). Then we hooked up his boat, drove to the launch and cruised around Lake Havasu for a couple of hours. Our trip included a visit to Copper Canyon, a popular spot for the college kids during spring break. They raft their boats, drink their "sodas", and cliff jump the day away. Mike says most years a person could walk from edge to edge on top of boats (If that person was willing to step over bikini clad coeds and speedo wearing coes (I mean if the girls are coeds, the guys must be coes). We toured another cove before heading back through the man made channel underneath the London Bridge, which the founder (McCullough) of Lake Havasu City bought in 1962 for 2.1 million dollars. This desert oasis grew from a R&R spot for servicemen after WWII to what it is today, a bustling resort town of 55,000. Mike and I spent the afternoon looking at pictures on the computers while the ladies napped. Around 7:30 we went for dinner at a local bistro, where we dined on more thin gruel. I tell you, many people would think that we eat out often because I take so many pictures of food. That really hasn't been true until the last two weeks of our adventure. Ever since we hit Arizona, we've been living high on the hog, and it shows. We're both starting to plump out like a couple of smelly javelinas. No matter, we wouldn't change a thing. Today's lake adventure (What is the date? Oh, yes, February 10) was simply grand. I was actually chilly as Mike increased the boat to cruising speed. Sadly, we'll have to depart from this corner of paradise tomorrow. It's about two hundred miles from here to Palm Springs, most of it through the absolutely arid nothingness this area has to offer. If it weren't for the miracle of dams, the need for water, and the gift of the Colorado River, the only things living around here would be coyotes, gila monsters, rattlesnakes, lizards, scorpions, and any kind of plant that could exist on less than four inches of rain per year. The sun worshipers thank the BLM for putting a concrete stopper in the Colorado. Needless to say, we were thankful for the water as well, and as ever life is good, especially today.

 The Lake Havasu City dog park just after dawn.

 This water pees, but it doesn't poop.

 Ellsworth at the griddle. Hucklebery pancakes! Are you kidding me?

 The desert mountains are an awesome sight. They peek out in every direction.

 Lake Havasu City as it spreads up the hillside.

 The Sunny Bunny.

 The view from inside Copper Canyon. The college kids like to jump from the rocks.

 A Montgomery 17, a full keeled trailerable sailboat designed by some genius at Annapolis. Great boats (The wind picked up enough for whitecaps in the afternoon.)

 The London Bridge. They rebuilt the bridge, stone block by stone block (On land), and then they dredged the channel.

 Each block was numbered as it was dismantled in London. England sold the bridge because the traffic load in the early sixties in London was putting too much load on the bridge. It was unsafe and obsolete.

 These jet boats bring gamblers from way up lake so they can leave a few dollars at the casino.

 Around the island, there are replicas of famous lighthouses. We didn't get close enough to this one to know where its life size version sits.

 Art shot: Speed, beauty, and safety.

 These statues used to mark the city limits of London, England.

 Evidence of the afternoon wind. The Montgomery likes heavy air.

 Under the bridge, they've built a little British square just so tourists can enjoy a crumpet.

 Judy and Mike reading about the creator and designer of Lake Havasu City, who look over their shoulders to see if they're getting it right.

 Our dinner spot.

 Very yummy risotto with mushrooms, peas, and a delightfully flavorful red sauce.

Fries smothered with duck confit and fried cauliflower. Unusually tasty.

The glowing memory of another good day.

Adventure 127: Lake Havasu City/Post A

Frac's Home Sweet Home in Lake Havasu City

Thanks to my nimbly peg work, I escaped with the narrowest of wins in the Phoenix Open. There she sat, right in the stink hole, wailing like Moses after being denied the promised land. So it goes: "Let my children go," she moaned. So I left. Always the gracious second place finisher, the wily cager showed no sad longings, no I wish I wases, no, ahh shuckes. She simply swallowed her medicine, and then she asked for a consolation hug (I'm always the winner on that deal), which I gladly gave. We squeezed a little, then we hit the road. Our trip out of Phoenix was uneventful. The roads are smooth, the traffic was light, and the motorists were courteous. Three hours later, we backed Frac next to Mike and Kathy Ellsworth's house in Lake Havasu City. Mike and I taught together for about a decade at Riverside Middle School. It was the middle third of my career and Mike is one of the educators I've most admired for his knowledge and for his ability to build relationships (Kids and adults). He's one of those people you like immediately for his warmth, strength, integrity, and humility. He's one of those guys who's so good, he makes it look easy. We did the by now normal retired thing (Summarized the last forty years in about forty minutes), and Mike also caught me up on the lives of our former colleagues at Riverside. Mike and Kathy are fixers. They're both skilled craftsman, and though it seems like work to me, they like to buy houses, fix them up, and then sell them. Flipping it's called. They don't plan to flip this home in Lake Havasu, but it's a typical Ellsworth project. It's a repo house that was used as a halfway stop for illegal Mexican immigrants. Mike said, for example, that the garage door was wired shut and there were a dozen or so mattresses lying on the floor. The back yard beyond the patio was filled with thousands of beer tops (Kathy says she's still finding them in the gravel). Long story short, they got a great deal, and with their expertise, the house is now their winter home (Although there is always another project to complete). We enjoyed an excellent London Broil with asparagus and broccoli salad, which we ate on the back patio as the sun set behind the mountains on the California side of the Colorado River. The we retired to the dining room table for a game of Train Dominoes (New to us) and home made apple pie (Ala mode). The thin gruel continues. We also heard from my siblings. My sister's cremation has been arranged and her memorial will be held next Saturday. I spent the hours we drove today thinking of what I might say in her memory. It's difficult because I'm four years older, and when our parents divorced, our lives took separate paths. I had left the house by the time Sandy went through high school. We crossed paths over the years at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but mostly we spent our adult years raising our own families. I do know that she was a devoted mother (And grandmother). I think the best thing I could say to describe her is to relate a story when my son Steve and I were on a trip to Philmont Boy Scout Ranch when he was a scout. Philmont is eighty square miles of territory donated to the Boy Scouts by Waite Phillips (Founder of Phillips 66). He used the place as his private hunting reserve in the thirties. Currently, about twenty thousand scouts a year move through the property on wilderness treks every summer (It's very cool). One of the things they do on the ranch is track (Using radio tags) about eighty bears (Black and Grizzly). Anyway, we were on our trek, and we saw a large mother grizzly with her two cubs. They were less than a fifty yards from us. We quieted ourselves (No easy matter with a half dozen teenage boys in the troop), and began to back away. She didn't give us a second look, but I guarantee if we had made one step toward her cubs, she'd have covered the ground in a manner reminiscent of the wrath of God. My sister Sandra was like that. She was a live and let live person, but pity the fool who chose to mess with her cubs. I'll miss her, but not nearly as much as her kids. I wish them well. Here in Havasu City, we're in for a treat tomorrow. Mike is going to take us for a motor boat ride on Lake Havasu. We'll get to see the famous London Bridge (Second most popular tourist attraction in Arizona), and better yet we'll get a view of this arid landscape from the surface of a magnificent body of water (Lake Havasu is at least forty-five miles long). So as usual, life is good, especially today, and perhaps we'll also get tomorrow.

 Frac following along (Taken by the Bunny on I-10).

 Turning off I-10 onto Highway 95, there must be ten thousand RVs parked out in the desert.

 Art shot: The long and lonely.

 Periscope depth.

 The Ellsworh home: reclaimed, redone, revived.

 No bumps, scrapes, or bruises when we backed in.

 The view from the patio.

 The view of the patio.

 MIke and Kathy enjoy sunsets every night.

 London Broil (Pretty good, for thin gruel).

 Mr. and Mrs. Ellsworth.

 Mike, ever the teacher, explaining the rules to Train Dominoes.

 My little train (I won the game tonight, and I didn't cheat).

One the the layouts. If you win a hand, you get to push the tile in the center of the green piece. It makes a little train engine whistle sound. Cute.

Adventure 126: Desert Shadows RV Resort/Post F

Last Night in Phoenix

Not to worry, cheaters sometimes prosper (Just ask Bernie Madoff). The bottom line is we'll play a winner take all game in the morning to decide the Phoenix Open. Watch out Cager, I've got nimbly pegs. Our last day in the Valley of the Sun started with Russ and Kathy picking us up and driving us to Cave City to watch the running of the bulls. Much like the mania in Spain, the Arizonans trapped themselves inside a U-shaped chute, let twelve thousand pound bulls loose (Which were spurred on by riders on horseback), and ran like crazy with the express goal of running as close to the animals for as long as possible. Seems crazy to me, but about fifty runners did it three times. In between, a desert carnival broke out. Drinking, eating, sunbathing, cowboy boot stomping, did I mention drinking? There were painted cowgirls in tank tops and sparkly jeans toting signs that read, "Drink Budweiser." There were policemen, security, and paramedics at the ready in case of illegal behavior, boorish behavior, or just plain injury. In the second run, one runner pushed another down. Another (Quite an old man, actually), went down hard at the start. This meant the firefighters got to apply first aide, which made their presence pertinent. We didn't see the police exercise the purpose of their presence, nor did we see he security engage in any 'bouncing'. I have a feeling that the later the day got , the higher the possibility for these community services. We left after the second run to have lunch down the road at a place called the Spotted Donkey. Everything about the lunch was excellent, including the waiter, and the company. Russ and Kathy dropped us off at the trailer. We did a few things to get ready for pulling out tomorrow, and then we drove down to Russ and Kathy's home in Peoria, which was fun because it was the final corner of the Phoenix Valley for us to see. There the sadness of the evening began. The Zags couldn't hold their lead due to a recurring theme for us. We get exposed physically when we play teams with superior athletes. Even though Coach Few made all the right moves as usual, the end result was a disappointing loss. The only consolation we had was to stuff ourselves with Verenaka and Farmer sausage for dinner. Verenaka is the German version of a ravioli, except that they are larger. The sausage is homemade and was brought to Phoenix by Kathy's sister all the way from Saskatchewan. Both items were one of a kind, and both were fabulous. The only hard part of hanging around Russ and Kathy is that it is very difficult to catch the skinnies around them. Next week, the Bunny and I will definitely have to return to the thin gruel. As for the sad loss the Zags had to endure tonight; no worries, they get to play again soon, which makes life good, especially today.

 These guys behind the bulls may have the right idea.

 The local firefighters in their ready stance.

 In between runs, this man and his friend did a beautiful ceremonial dance.

 I think I see the bulls.

 Really? Is this a good idea (PITA doesn't think so)>

 This is Wade. He won the first run for staying close to the thousand pound beasts. We watched his car keys, water bottle (No drunks allowed to run), and shirt.

 The Spotted Donkey.

 Russ doing a google search on the current population of Garden City, Kansas.

 Tacos. Excellent.

 Beet Salad with greens, spinach, asparagus and red onion. Very Nice.

The Jack Ass burger.

Our last walk into the Arizona sunset.

 Russ and Kathy's view from their deck.

 Most nights they get beautiful Arizona sunsets.

In the morning, Kathy takes her coffee here in the shaded space between the master bedroom and the family room. Quite peaceful.

Adventure 125: Desert Shadow RV Resort/Post E

Nothing is more relative than the scoreboard.

First of all, the cribbage gods are tough to please. I lit my JuJu candles, cheated brazenly, changed decks, faced south, north, east, and west, and still I lost. I'm down by one game in the Phoenix Open with but two days to play. I feel like poor Casey sneering at the pitcher, only this pitcher is a wily cager named Judy. After our morning routine (Sadly, my poor tail is becoming routinely stuck between my legs), we drove out to meet Margo and Roger Shute for lunch at a funky joint in Cave City called the Horny Toad. Cave City is an old town just north of Scottsdale. The town has kept its western flavor and turned itself into another tourist magnet. Interestingly enough, we'll return there tomorrow with Judy's cousin (Russ and Kathy Isaac) to witness the running of the bulls. We had a delightful lunch with Roger and Margo. We did the usual, summarizing the last forty years in just under forty minutes, talking about the kids and grandkids, and if we'd have had more time, we'd have whipped out the pictures. For me, it was especially nice because Margo is four years older than her sister Anne (My late wife), and she was out of the O'Brien house by the time I started hanging around. Of course, we've seen each other over the years, but our paths never really crossed. If I have realized anything lately, it's that not only is life short, but there are no guarantees for tomorrow (Actually, I've known that for quite a while). What's new for me is the desire to reach out and share things with others. It was a good start to another full day. After lunch, we did house keeping things (The wash, the floors, the bathroom, etc.) in anticipation for leaving Phoenix on Sunday. Continuing our full day, Judy's cousin Russ Isaac picked us up at four thirty and took us to dinner at one of their local favorites, a family friendly Italian place near us. It was a pleasant change from our diet (lately) of Mexican food and BBQ. Naturally, we summarized the last forty years and shared stories of our kids and grandkids (That's what retired people do). In addition, Judy and Russ also took brief trips down memory lane. Though they're cousins, their lives have been led quite separately and they haven't seen each other since they were kids. Again, one fabulous fringe benefit of being retired travelers is the occasion to connect. I think we had an inkling when we started this adventure that we'd do this sort of thing, but neither Judy nor myself really understood the joy we'd feel from such efforts. After dinner, I got a real treat. Many of you know I've dedicated much of my life to the game of basketball. I've played, coached, watched, and studied several thousand games by now, yet I rarely pass up the chance to see another (I even turn my head when I see pick up games in a park). Tonight we got to watch Russ and Kathy's grandson play on senior night. The game started rough, but the true mettle of the family genes came out in full force. Xavier's team prevailed, in large part to his twenty plus points, solid floor play, and experienced senior leadership. He had help. The big man on his team played an excellent game (He's a scholarship football player, and he plays basketball like one). Tonight, he dominated the boards and every turning twisting finger roll he shot went in. The team also didn't melt under excellent pressure put on by their opponents, and above all, they gathered themselves defensively to get some stops. I've always been a defense first kind of guy, so I liked that. However, the game is always easier when the ball goes in the basket and some incredible shots fell tonight. As I sat there, I remembered all the senior nights I experienced in thirty years of coaching. It's always good to see proud parents beaming, good kids smiling, and lasting memories being forged in moments of pure truth. It put the old goose bumps right back on my arms. So it seems that no matter where people live in this great country, life is good, especially today.


 It looks like the desert life is treating Margo and Roger pretty well.

 This sign tells you all you need to know about the Horny Toad.

Well maybe not. This sign speaks volumes as well.

Art shot of the day: Part of the fence around the patio area of the Horny Toad.

 Russ and Kathleen Isaac, originally from Garden City, Kansas. Now full time residents of Phoenix as well as full time proud  grandparents.

 Olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and warm bread. Ciao Italy!

 Rich bolognese sauce over spaghettini. It was such thin gruel, it made me think if Deb Drouin.

 Larger than life cardboard cutout of Xavier. 

 A couple of rowdy fans at the game (Security was called).

 Xavier's dad cheering, or possibly questioning a call (Dad's all over have excellent eyesight).

 The Centennial Coyote's were underdogs, so the fans stormed the court to celebrate the victory.

 Proud grandpa and grandson. It doesn't get any better than this. 

 Mom (Amy), son (Xavier) and cousin (Paige). Rumor has it that Xavier and Paige are so close, he calls her the little sister he never wanted. Obviously, love has itself tucked neatly inside this young man's cheek.

Paige, an eighth grader and skilled hooper, will now carry on the family excellence. She might even say, "What was the name of that big brother, I never had?"