NEW LOOK!

Panic not. It's the same old drivel in a new format. I got tired of the narrow column for the text, and chose this wider format. Of course, when it applied to all the old posts, the spacing with the pics got messed up, but what the heck. It's still pearls before swine, eh? :)

AT LAST :) :) :)

It’s only been nine years in the making, but they finally did it! Mike and Alia tied the knot in San Francisco on Saturday, August 29.

We drove up Thursday with Chuck and Alice and Mom and checked into the Park Galleria Hotel, the less-$ of the two hotels that Mike had made arrangements with. It was perfect for us – quiet (we asked for a “courtyard” (read, airshaft)) room away from the elevators and they set us up perfectly. It was dead quiet every night we were there. Mom’s streetside room was much noisier from traffic, sirens, etc., but she can just pop out her hearing aids. Walking distance of the BART/MUNI, even for Mom, so we garaged the van (at $35/night!) and took the trains and cabs all over. San Francisco is a great place for public transportation as long as you keep a nice supply of small bills and quarters on you. The BART is a cinch to buy tickets for, but the the MUNI trains are another kettle of fish altogether. No change machines and eight quarters required! That makes for a heavy purse/pocket. There was a nice place on the corner next to the hotel for breakfast serving steel-cut oatmeal (slow cooked) with all the fixins for $3! Yes! Given the cost of the rehearsal dinner, I took every bargain I could find.

Thursday night we got together with Mike, Alia, John, Meghan, Alia’s parents Lynn and Bill, and maid-of-honor Lissy, all the way from Spain for the wedding. Took the BART to the Mission district and had dinner at a nice Italian place on Mission Street, La Traviata. Lots of dark wood, guest photos on the walls, and very good food. I had calamari pasta with ink sauce. Excellent. I nearly fell out of my seat when the bill went directly to the other end of the table and John picked up the tab. Wow! That’s my boy! We sang along and applauded birthdays at two other tables and had a great time. Back to the BART for the ride to the hotel. S.F. was experiencing a record-setting heat wave. We’ve never ever been in S.F. and had it so balmy all evening long. This was a bit less desirable during the day – we sweated like pigs.

Friday the ladies all got together for nails (toes and fingers) and other “girly stuff” (their characterization you feminists, not mine). I went off with Chuck to visit with two of our fraternity brothers, Don and Paul at Don’s place in North Beach. Nice digs. From the roof there’s a view of the bay with Alcatraz, and from the other side Coit Tower and downtown. Not too shabby. We promptly reverted to our frat personas and had a rowdy lunch. Kinda scary how easy it is to regress. :P

Friday evening was the rehearsal at the church --- Most Holy Redeemer --- which introduced us to the frustrations of buying tickets for the MUNI train. Go prepared with plenty of change. Once we got to our stop we had to haul out the map and ask a passerby for directions to the church. S.F. is ground zero for confusing intersections. Not only do multiple angled streets meet up, but often they change names from one side to the other. Local knowledge is key. We were the first to arrive and proceeded to the basement meeting room and promptly stumbled in to the local AA meeting, all 150 of them. Back to the street to greet other members of the wedding party and then into the church for the run-through with all the bridesmaids (yup, seven of them!) and

the groomsmen. The church was beautiful, with the

alter placed in the middle. Very light and colorful.

Afterwards, everyone either took the MUNI or hailed cabs to head for the rehearsal dinner at the decidedly upscale Absinth restaurant, home of the $35 corkage fee. Yikes. Do ya think they want to sell their own wines? Weeks ago, I had poured over their 40+page wine list (2/3 French) and selected a couple of whites (a nice minerally Muscadet for me) and several reds after doing an internet vetting of those I was interested in. And I’ll be darned if they didn’t all turn out just fine. I tried two, and no one was complaining about the others. For thirty people, we drained enough bottles to make Julia giggle through a month’s worth of shows. I should have gone with Mike’s favorite dish, a pork confit which truly was superb (lucky Loni chose that), but as I had planned on drinking white I had the fish (they changed the risotto on us at the last minute, from wild mushroom –yum – to carrot [?!] and only one person ordered it). Unfortunately, the fish was overcooked. Oh, well, more wine, please. The chocolate pot-de-creme was luscious for dessert. The private room was very nice and the service was faultless, and everyone had a great time. The Bank of Dad is seeking a federal bailout.

Bill, Lynn, and Alia

Saturday was the big day. The “girls” again were getting together at the Omni with the distaff bridal party for makeup, hairdos, and general gab. The grooms and guys got together and essentially trashed Mike & Alia’s apartment watching sports before going out for burgers and

Clockwise from left: John, Me, Mike, Noah, Jason, Tony, John, Adam, Andrew, and Moe.

malts.

After stuffing our faces we went back to Mike’s and started getting into the penguin suits. A mess on top of a mess, but it all got sorted out and we took off walking to the church, looking for all the world as if we had escaped from a Ratpack movie.

At the church, the fun began when it turned out Mike had forgotten his check book to pay the musicians, who wouldn’t play without pay. Best Man John took off like a man possessed, commandeered a cab and shot back up the hill to fetch it. I caught the only shot of the bride arriving as the official photographer was MIA. The usual wedding glitch nonsense ensued (missed cues, late priest, etc.), but nobody really noticed. We only knew because I was standing in the wings next to the wedding planner who was hissing into her wireless from time to time. The music was well worth whatever they charged. Absolutely gorgeous. The processions went off without a hitch, and I didn’t trip Loni as I escorted her to her seat in her floor-length gown. My shots of the actual ceremony are pretty punk as I couldn’t use a flash or hold the camera visibly up (didn’t want to upset the official photog), but you get the idea.

Here, everyone is staring up at the balcony while the singing is going on . . . and on . . . and on. Much as I was enjoying it, it turns out they were singing multiple choruses when they were supposed to sing only the first. I’m glad they did, but Mike was getting fidgety. When it came time to sign the certificate, the bridal couple and their two witnesses, Stanford grads all (sigh), managed to sign in the wrong places so it has to be done over again before they can file it. Ah, well, it’s all good. Off in the trolley bus to the Green Room at the War Memorial Building for the reception. Here’s both of the Moms after exiting the rig.

We had the obligatory wedding party pics outside

and then went inside to pose for pics with the City Hall

(ain’t she cute!)

John and Meghan. Hmmmmmmm.

The tables were beautiful

as was the happy couple

and everyone had a super time. I’ve uploaded about 70-odd photos for those of you who just can’t get enough (or want to see your own mugs) at the following two “albums” on Picasa:

http://picasaweb.google.com/Calhounjon/Friday82809#

http://picasaweb.google.com/Calhounjon/Saturday82909#

Feel free to leave any comments you wish by clicking below (where it currently says "0 Comments").

SIERRA CAMP 2009

If it’s July, it must be time for camp again.  This year, Mom came out with her best friends from Indy, Jack and Rose.

Here they all are at the Huntington Museum gardens in Pasadena.  We beetled out there to see the cactus gardens and other grounds, all of which were incredibly beautiful, plus “Blue Boy” and “Pinky” in the portrait gallery.  We wore everyone out with the walking around in 80+ degree heat.  This should be a must-see on everyone’s list for out-of-town visitors.  We were there only a couple of months ago with other friends, and we still found plenty of new stuff to see this time.

After my usual superb job of packing every nook and cranny in the van (loaned by our friends, Chuck & Alice – thanks, guys!), we got underway Friday morning and headed up the 405 to SR14, and then NE to hook up with 395.  This is pretty ugly territory between our house and the hookup, but once you get on 395 the Sierras start to form on your left and it ultimately is a fantastic drive.  We actually caught a small tailwind all the way up the Owens Valley, so driving was smooth and easy.  After a Subway stop, we pulled into Bishop around 4:00 and went to the Chalfont House B&B.  We’ve stayed here before and it was just as good as we remembered.  A block off the highway, it’s dead quiet at night, but within walking distance of the restaurants, theatre, and the not-to-be-missed Mountain Light Gallery showcasing the incredible photography of the late Galen Rowell.  We stop here every time we get to Bishop and never tire of these images.  I think he’s the Ansel Adams of color photography.  We got three rooms, all on the upper floor, although ours was a sort of split level affair.  After climbing to the second floor, we had to descend a flight of stairs to our room. Strange, but it was very comfortable and, with a full house of guests, we heard absolutely no one once our door was closed.  Breakfast was outstanding, prepared by the proprietess, and served in a beautiful, sunny room at elegant tables.  Truly, there’s no reason to waste money on a motel when you can get something like this.  We had a nice talk with a young (sigh) couple, he from Germany and she from Spain, who were just starting a tour of the West.  Watched an old (‘40s) movie on the VCR in the parlor that had Mom laughing out loud, and all was good.

Off the next morning for the rest of the trip up 395 to the cutoff at SR89.  This is the most beautiful portion of the drive, both on 395 and 89.  This is the view looking south

from the top of one of the grades on 89 just after leaving 395.  After ignoring grotesque turn mis-instructions from Gertrude (we turned her off) we made our way to Walker where we stopped at what turned out to be a fabulous barbeque joint right on the highway with the cooker out by the road.  Mom couldn’t resist, or handle, the sausage sandwich, but ate every last bit of it.  The tri-tip was great.

Fortified, we pressed on through and over the mountains and made it to camp right around 4:00, leaving plenty of time to unpack and get ready for the first of 20 gargantuan meals, most of which we ate out on the deck.

With the exception of one afternoon, we had balmy-hot weather the whole week and dined al fresco the whole time.  The opening Saturday night dinner was the usual “let loose the wolves” roast beef dinner and I know I certainly got my share!  Overall, the food was very good, and the pastry chef outdid himself each morning with cinnamon rolls, croissants, danishes, etc.  This must be a fruit bonanza year as we had buckets of large blueberries, blackberries, and other fruit.  Best new beer I tried, at the recommendation of the obviously underaged staffer manning the fountain:  Rogue Brewery’s “Dead Guy Ale.”

Everybody but me went on one of the 5:00 wine & cheese cruises on the “boatster.”  Classical music, smooth lake, and beautiful scenery.  They were all tanked upon return.

I opted for the 6:30 AM(!) photography cruise.  This year’s photographer was Wyatt, who hailed from Sidney, which demanded close attention as he accented his way through his presentations.  A font of knowledge with a knack for easy explaining and I picked up a number of tips.  Early morning on the lake offers great light for the scenery.

Because of the lower-than-average snowpack and early melt, the wildflowers were only average this year.  Loni and I went on the Naturalist hike to Lake Winnemucca, a place we’ve visited many times before.  You start at the Carson Pass at about 8,700 ft, and the hike is sublime.

That’s Loni in the distance, with Round Top mountain ahead.  Mom last made this hike when she was 81, but is a little too frail to do it again, or so she says.  I loved it.

Loni and the naturalist forayed off into the flowers.

Which were beautiful in closeup as well.

The stream area was quite nice, although not the chest-high abundance of the best years.

All in all, a very nice hike.  Our souls were recharged.

My other favorite activity at camp is sculling each morning (except for the photo cruise) at 6:30. The sun is just coming up over the ridge, the lake is absolutely still and quiet, and it is incredibly peaceful.

Loni’s favorite activity is arts and crafts, and she shines each year.  It’s weird that she really only does this stuff when she’s up at camp, although she vows to start doing more on our travels.  This year she did a nifty collage and a watercolor, both of which are at the top in this photo,

as well as a dreamcatcher and a rabbit sculpture made by poking and tweaking a glob of cotton into shape.  Looks cuter than it sounds. 

Camp is for trying out new things, so I had to give the paddle boarding a go.  Yes, my suit, and the rest of me, is wet.  I did manage to get back on the thing out in the deep, so not too bad for the first try.  Venice, anyone?

BAKED BRAINS

Saturday, June 27 to Monday, June 29.

We swished our way NW through the light rain on US180, hung a left at SR78, and left NM for Arizona. Temperature-wise, we shoulda stayed put.  The drive up 180 was beautiful, and the descent on 78 from the high plateau was high anxiety, filled with 7-10% downgrades (hmmm, that’s a memorial there by the guardrail), switchbacks, and acrophobic wonders.   At Safford, we turned up US70 through the ridiculously green Gila Valley, which reminded me a lot of the Salinas Valley, miles of agriculture with mountains on both sides,  although these were quite a bit bigger, topped by the 10,720 ft Mt. Graham.  Our target for tonight was Apache Gold, an Indian casino with RV park, supposedly at $12 a night.  Folks, save your money.

The rv park was a big parking lot, with generous spaces but virtually no shade.  Turns out our AAA guide is last year’s, and the price is now $20.  Not wanting to drive any further, we stayed put.  We hoped to get some free player’s bucks and maybe a decent buffet dinner.  Not(x2).

We hoofed it to the casino across the blazing parking lot.  This ain’t Vegas, kids.  The casino was surprisingly small.  We went over to the “Players Club” to get our free “fun pack” that the signage had advertised.  Well, whoop-de-doo.  It consisted of a coupon good for fifty cents in slots credit, and $2.50 towards the price of a drink in the bar.  Huh?  We didn’t bother with either, and walked over to the . . . closed . . . buffet.  On a Saturday night?  I don’t think we missed much.  It was supposed to be, according to the signs, a seafood buffet, at the princely price of $23 each.  Ouch.  Back to the rig and Loni’s ever-so-much-better cooking.  This truly is a loser of a place, and not just in the gambling sense.  Ought to be called “Apache’s Revenge.”  The only saving graces were the sunset sky and the amazing sight of a couple traveling with FIVE, countem FIVE, toy poodles.  A traveling kennel?  Loni was particularly taken by the woman wiping each dog’s rear end before allowing them back into the rig.  Yuch.

Sunday we hooked up with our old friend, US60, and headed down into the Phoenix area.  Actually, we stopped for the night in Mesa, as Phoenix itself doesn’t seem to have any RV parks other than 20-30 miles up in the local mountains, and those didn’t have electricity.  Did I say it was getting hot?

Well, how about setting records?  When we stepped out of the rig after getting parked we nearly passed out.  Turns out it was 111 degrees!  Yikes.  Got the A/C going, determined that the advertised cable tv didn’t exist, and found that the “free” wifi wouldn’t allow us to sign on.  Oh, well, they DID have a very nice big pool, with no one at all in it or around it.  We had it to ourselves for about an hour before anyone else showed up.  This place actually is a retirement village composed of about 1,000 8x30 mobile homes, arranged in a grid pattern with virtually no landscaping.  This is so dreary that it has probably hastened more than one demise of the poor old souls who end up here.  The rv rentals like ourselves are put on the concrete pads of vacant slots that lack a mobile home.  You can imagine the “view.”  You’ll have to, cause I didn’t take any pics here.  We soaked in the pool until we were prunes, then went back to the “cool” rig, which was down to the mid-80’s inside.  By comparison with outside, it was very nice.

We thought we might stay an extra day, to go see some sights in Phoenix, but the thought of trying to navigate the scoot around, with helmets on, in 110+ heat, put the squelch on that.  We decided to head for the border, and back to the state park we had started this trip at, Buckskin Mountain State Park.  The drive there (the first part on I-10) was uneventful, and largely boring except for the 80mph trucks that kept overtaking us like we were standing still.  There was hardly anyone at the park.  Guess the heat (about 105) was discouraging them.  We lucked into the primo shaded spot, so at least all we had to deal with was the ambient temperature.  We discovered the first and only other Lazy Daze of our trip several sites down from us, a grey 26 footer.  We knocked to say hello, but I think we woke the elderly owner up.  He was polite but a bit dazed, so it was a short conversation.  Time for a dip in the river, which is surprisingly clear.  We marked the end of our trip with a great steak dinner, the last of our beer, and cleaned up the remaining Haagen Daz coffee yoghurt.  All was right with the world.

LAS CRUCES, SI; EL PASO, NO

Wednesday, June 24 to Saturday, June 27.

Balmorhea is a nice park, with little ramadas at each site with picnic tables.  A stream, originating with the spring, runs through the park and is stocked with fish, some good sized.  Actually, smaller ones are in the pool, and if you stay still they come up and start nipping at your skin.  We kept moving.  They also have created a pretty nice wetlands area with tall reeds and other vegetation, and we spotted a big turtle, several water snakes, and some nice birds.  Sorry, Audubon, no identifications here. 

We took off and went west on I-10 to SR54 where we headed north to the Guadalupe Mountains national Park.  Nice drive with, natch, dramatic mountain vistas.   Didn’t stay at the park, but turned west on US62/180 towards El Paso.  Again, a beautiful desert drive, with storms dropping rain to the south, but not much of note to report.  Entering El Paso we quickly determined that we’d rather press on to Las Cruces.  From what we could see of El Paso, it is one of the more unlovely cities and, unless you wanted to go across to Ciudad Juarez (we didn’t), there was precious little to keep you there.  We had passed through Las Cruces on our AZ/NM trip last year, and thought it looked pretty nice.  Also, our friends Perry and Sara, who make frequent drives to L.A./Vegas, had a favorite restaurant there.

This turned out to be a good call.  Our AAA Camping guide had several choices, but one was quite close to the restaurant, so we chose it, the Siesta RV Park.  This is an excellent park, and is within walking distance of the old town portion of Las Cruces, called Mesilla.  Think of a lower-keyed Santa Fe, with a nice town square fronting a very nice mission church, which we photographed at night.  After setting up and getting the A/C going, we walked to Mesilla and found the restaurant, La Posta, right on the square.  This place has been in operation for 80+ years, and is in a building even older with a series of rooms with eclectic, to say the least, decorating.   They make a number of Margueritas, including “authentic” ones that use only fresh lime juice, no sweet-n-sour mix.  That was my choice, with special tequila and Cointreau.  Oh, yes.   The food was typical everything-covered-with-sauce-and-cheese, and plenty of it, but did have some good flavors peeking through.  Good chips and salsa.  After dinner we strolled around and found a little theatre that was run by a nonprofit group, showing “The Great Buck Howard” starring John Malkovich (sp?).  Five rows of seats, with tables and chairs behind for eating while you watch, and a lady to introduce the evening’s entertainment.  Loved it.

Thursday we unloaded the scoot, gave it a sponge bath, and went off to the New Mexico Farm and Ranch Heritage Museum.  This is a fairly new facility, with some parts still under construction, and demonstrates ranch operations.  Some schoolkid groups were there, so that made the milking demonstration more fun, as well as the bottle feeding of the orphaned “brangus” (brahma/angus) calf which was growing 50% faster and larger on its diet of Holstein milk.  We got a private cart tour of the various pens and stables with a grizzled cowboy guide, and his enthusiasm for the various types of stock was infectious.  There was an unique cutting-torch metal diorama that this picture only captures a portion of.  After that we went inside to view the exhibits, which had some great displays of southwestern history and life.  Loni got sidetracked by a woman who had been giving the kids a demonstration of quilting in the lobby.  Her samples were really beautiful, and they ended up talking for a quarter hour.   Loni liked the saddle teeter totter in the kids playroom.  This definitely is a good stop.  After we had finished, we debated scooting on up the the White Sands Missile Museum, but the wind was blowing and gusting pretty strong, and it would be a 25 mile trip each way.  We opted to go back to Mesilla and look at the shops.  Most were the usual touristy junk, but some had some nice artwork and house stuff.  We actually spent some buckos on a metalwork sculpture and a rooster lantern.  What?  I’ll have to post pictures, but they’re all wrapped up at the moment.  Next morning (Fri), we took our power walk through an adjacent residential neighborhood and admired the xeriscape varieties of the front yards.  Adios, Las Cruces, we enjoyed our stay.

We took I-10 (ugh) west to US 180 and turned NW, over the local Continental Divide,  towards Silver City, which was billed as a former mining town turned art center.  Well, it was a mining town, and boyhood home of Billy the Kid, as they remind you at every turn.  the drive up 180 was again scenic, with the mountains looming, but I wouldn’t go out of my way again to visit Silver City.  It’s a collection of old and reconstructed buildings, precious few of which are worth much to look at, with much boarded up and out-of-business enterprises.  I realize we are here in the off season (only mad dogs and Englishmen . . .), but this place felt dead.  And nearly all of the shops that are still in business close up at 4:00.  We found only one shop with anything to look at.  The best part of the town was its “river walk”, which stretches for 3 blocks along the former site of the town’s main street, which was washed away in some 19th century flood, resulting in the relocation of everything.  The other good thing was the RV park, which is right in town, was neatly maintained, with good shade trees.  Another gold star.  It even had high entertainment as we watched some poor guy towing a long horse/human combo trailer try to parallel park it behind our rig.  We lost count of the forwards and backwards.  He kept making the same mistakes over and over.

Before settling on that park, we had thought we would try to do some dry camping up in a state park north of town on SR15, towards the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument.  However, about ten miles up the road the signs warned that the road narrowed, with no center stripe, and it was dangerous for vehicles over 20 feet in length.  That’s usually an exaggeration, but the road was so narrow that we got concerned we might get in a situation where we couldn’t turn around if needed, so we bagged it and opted for in-town.  Too bad, as the local promos show the area we were heading for to be quite lush with pines and lakes.

We also thought we might stay another day and use the scoot to go up that mountain road to the Monument.  That was squelched by the first steady, albeit light, rain of our trip.  It started that night and was still going on Saturday morning, so we called it quits and quit Silver City.