Jerome, AZ

Leaving Lake Pleasant, we headed up Highway 17 in the direction of Sedona, stopping at the Dead Horse Ranch State Park. (Named after a former ranch of the same name at this spot. The dead horse is long-gone.) A good deal at $19.00 per night, though we didn't snare a 'view' space.
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Today’s junket was to nearby Jerome, AZ on Hwy 89a. While looking at the mountains yesterday, we noticed what appeared to be a cluster of houses high up. We suspected that this was an enclave of high-rollers, with a grand view towards the red rocks of Sedona. We were wrong. It was Jerome, and it isn’t a high-rollers' paradise. (Notably, though, it was named after Eugene Jerome, an early mining investor who never set foot in the town. He did sire the mother of Winston Churchill, however.)

Jerome is an interesting wild west, turn of the century mining town, built atop a honeycomb of copper, gold, silver and zinc shafts. Once hosting a population of 15,000 at its zenith (1910 or so), it shriveled in numbers as a result of fires which occurred frequently in its history and the inevitable petering out of the mineable ore in the mines. Mining operations ceased in the 1950s.

Unlike a lot of similar towns in the west that virtually disappeared, the remaining city fathers preserved many of the historic buildings, even as the population dropped to 100 or so in the late 50s. Subsequently, hippies and bikers invaded many of the structures in the 60s, but they, too, supported preservation efforts.

There probably isn’t a square yard of street surface without a pot-hole in it. Streets zig-zag up the steep mountainside that the town clings to.

The state park museum, housed in the old Douglas mansion, is exceptional. For those of you planning a trip to the Sedona area, don’t forget Jerome. You might even want to spend a night in the classy Jerome Grand Hotel, formerly the mine hospital. It has been repaired and refurbished in the 1990s. The views from its lofty perch above the burg are stunning. Tell ‘em Jeff sent you.

Though our intention was to see Jerome in the morning (with Carly as a passenger), then go to Sedona sans dog for lunch, we opted for lunch in Jerome at the Mile High Grill, while Carly reposed in a shady parking spot down the street.

On the way back we roamed the Tuzigoot National Monument grounds, as we continue to squeeze visits from our annual National Parks Pass. When this one expires (in May) I will be eligible for a geezer-card for only $10. Whatta deal! Tuzigoot dates back to the 1400s, after which it was abandoned by the Native Americans who disappeared leaving nothing but the ruins behind. Still don’t know why.

We returned to camp. Janice read while I drove to nearby Clarksdale to feed quarters into the washers and dryers at the local laundromat. Got the flat tire fixed, too, then returned for a few games of Scrabble before dinner.

Unpaid political ad:

On the road into Jerome

A Gem on a Rocky Road

It had been a toss-and-turn night. Strong winds rocked the rig and hummed steadily until day-break. Things went bump in the dark. The early morning sun produced pinkish hues, but it was still breezy. Wild ideas we had about taking a glider ride would be shelved for the time being.

The main activity for the day would be a day trip car-ride to the nearby Castle Rock Hot Springs, an 1890s-1950 health spa that was now listed forlornly on a ghost towns web site. We proceeded down 10 or so miles of unpaved, caterpillar track-washboard road, the last mile or so driving through a not –so-dry wash, and actually driving through desert streamlets coursing through the road. Adding to the adventure was that the day had started with a flat tire. We were riding on a tire that had been revived by a shot of ‘spare-in-the-can’, my first such usage of this miracle gunk.

Finally arriving at the location of the Hot Springs, it was evident that this once glorious place had fallen on hard times. Still, you could feel the ghosts of history about the place, though we were only able to view it from outside a fence.

The parcel, over 200 acres, is now for sale for a paltry $10.5 million, but I’d bet you could get it for considerably less.

These grounds, site of a 500,000 gallon per day hot spring, became Arizona’s first resort about 1896. Soon thereafter, the railroads were delivering fat-cat clients to a nearby town, where they hopped a ride on stagecoaches (and later ‘motorcoaches’) to bathe in the claimed curative waters. Clientele were a ‘who’s who’ of the American elite: Rockefellers, Cabots, Vanderbilts ,Wrigleys... . Even JFK recuperated here from his war injuries when the Air Force took it over during WWII as a health center. In its hey-dey, the nation’s financial gurus could get teletypes direct to their rooms from Wall Street. Guests would escape the harsh east coast winters playing tennis, swimming, horseback riding or playing the one golf hole on the grounds. It was staffed on a one-to-one guest/staff ratio, which meant a lot of pampering.
A promotional brochure claimed: "an ideal spot for at least nine months of the year, for rest and pleasure, and general recuperation of health,” going on to claim, “the bathing is delightful as well as curative. Many suffering from rheumatism or kidney troubles have been permanently cured and the Springs are becoming famous on this account.”

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard honeymooned here. Zane Grey built a cottage on the grounds.
After WWII, it reopened as a resort, but never achieved the prominence of its glory days.
The main guest quarters burned to the ground in 1977. It has been occupied by a caretaker for the last 20 years, and is now being marketed as a potential private retreat or exclusive health spa. There’s a lot of rehab to be done here. It’s just one of those historical gems we occasionally stumble upon off the beaten path.

Returning on the washboard road, the suspect tire was sagging at less than 10 lbs pressure. Spare-in-a-can was not designed for use on rocky paths such as Castle Rock Hot Springs Road.

Made it back to camp for some serious Arizona relaxation.

Poppies

We peeked out the bedroom window at day-break, watching the skies color in advance of the rising sun. The clouds were gone. It would be a beautiful day.

Finishing breakfast, we marveled at the great view from our spot overlooking Lake Pleasant.

Next was a hike on the Pipeline Trail. Our timing was fortunate. Arizona poppies in early bloom surrounded the trail and marked nearby hillsides. We were walking on the yellow brick road. Locals we met on the trail indicated that this was an unusually good bloom, brought on by heavier than usual rains this winter and spring.


The rest of the day was just a lazy, sunny day.

Hot Air on a Cool Day

Bonus Video Below!!
A lot was happening in Fountain Hills, which has vaulted to the number one position of places we’d like to live if we were ever to leave Sacramento. (We would have to ‘summer’ in Oregon or Colorado.) By coincidence, our stay at nearby McDowell Mountain Regional Park overlapped their annual Arts and Craft Show, a ‘juried’ extravaganza with over 500 vendors. Very classy stuff. No souvenir T-shirts or grandma’s glassware at this one.

After another hike in the desert (a quick 4-miler) on Saturday, we spent our second day at the show. It was a nice day, with crunching crowds (unlike the opening day on Friday when threatening rain scared most folks away). We made a few minor purchases, including a $20 kite that is “guaranteed to fly.” We enjoyed the hourly eruption of the fountain in the adjacent community lake—hence the name of the town.

Our final morning featured a crack of dawn awakening to get to the Hot-Air Balloon Rally at the lake. The fountain was turned off, lest said balloons get blown out of the sky by an untimely plume. About 10 balloons took to the air, with a couple accomplishing the feat of ‘lake kisses’, descending to touch the lake surface after take off.

We’ve had our balloon fix, so this probably saved us a trip to New Mexico for the Balloonfest they have each fall. Good way to save that gas money!
To view balloon video, click here. Be patient while it uploads.

After a short 50 mile drive to the northwest, with a $2.79/gallon gas fix at Costco along the way, we have landed in another Maricopa regional park, the Lake Pleasant Park. Our prime space is on a hill above the lake (about the size of Folsom Lake in Sacramento). Overcast skies are starting to break. ‘Sun-breaks’ as they say in Oregon. This is home for a few days. The parks are the 'real deal'. $20 bucks a night for electricity (50 amps here) and water. Dump station, too. Plenty of open space in beautiful surroundings. The option, of course would be to spend $30-35 a night for a 'squeeze-in' spot in a commercial park, where we would be close enough to adjacent rigs to hear the occupants burping and farting throughout the night. Just like the old Phi Delt fraternity house.

On the Soles of Hiking Boots...

As hoped for, we began the day with a great hike in the park—the Scenic Trail---and scenic it was. This is a 4-mile loop through the desert and up on ridges overlooking the desert. The rain had cleansed everything, and the 60-degree weather was perfect.

Upon return to camp, we noticed that there were campsites on the fringe opening up. Despite our ‘nice’ campsite, there were ‘nicer’ ones, a bit more private, and the host advised that we now had ‘priority.’ Janice suggested that it would be ‘ugly American’ to move into one of these sites. I countered that ‘it was the American way” to ‘upgrade’.

Within 10 minutes, we were packed and on the move, to our new site about 100 yards away. Looking out the front window, we can see only desert-scape and mountains in the distance.

Took a drive to visit nearby Lake Saguaro, a once natural lake that has been dammed to increase its capacity. Beautiful setting, but no RV parks here. Opted not to take the paddle wheel sightseeing cruise, which was loaded to the gunwhales with geezers from a tourbus. Heading down the road, we took one wrong turn after another, winding up back in Mesa. Flummoxed, we headed to Scottsdale for an inspection and a visit to the AAA office to get a decent map of the area.

Scottsdale is a city reeking with money. I could feel my mastercard throbbing in my wallet as we drove through. One could drop a lot of money fast here, with many nice restaurants and shops. Heading out of town, we pulled into a small shopping center so I could get a haircut. After 25 minutes with Bernie (from Brooklyn) the barber, I was shorn and inquired "what do they charge for haircuts in Scottsdale?” To my stunned surprise, the bill was $27—for my bald pate. I had declined the shampoo and moustache trim, which probably would have pushed the tab northward. Ridiculous! I’ve never paid more than $15. Indeed, one can drop money fast here.

On the road back towards ‘camp’ we passed homes on the outskirts of Fountain Hills that were palaces---many in the million$$-plus category, with sweeping views of the desert. Golf courses with deep-green fairways twisted through ritzy neighborhoods. Golf course in the area feature greens fees from $110 to $250 for out-of-staters. There would not be golf in the near future.

Stopping in Fountain Hills, we indulged ourselves in a gelato cone. We sought ice cream, but in this upscale locale, the offering was ‘gelato’. Very good at $3.49 for a single scoop cone. An amazing horse statue, made of discarded items, shone brightly in the parking lot. Click on the picture for a closer inspection.

In the evening, we joined a ranger-led moonlight hike through the desert. The moon finally appeared from behind a cloud bank, a huge goldish orb. It was so bright that we cast long shadows on the trail. The ranger pointed out various trees/bushes (which all looked the same in the semi-darkness) and educated us on how to distinguish javelina ‘scat’ (read “sh*t”) from coyote scat. (The former has seeds, the latter doesn’t). It really doesn’t matter if you step in it, though.

Back in our cozy rig, Janice administered a rare Scrabble thumping to me, winning by 60 points and using all 7 letters twice in the process. I was humbled, but I am looking forward to rebounding in a re-match.

Of Highs and Lows

A pictureless blog day---my apologies.

The last 48+ hours have produced some highs and lows.

Getting up at the crack of dawn Tuesday in the Kartchner campground, I joined a line of hopefuls at the visitors center, hoping to score some tickets for a cavern tour. (Due to the 3 day weekend, we were shut out Fri-Sat-Sunday. Buy yours on the internet if you are certain when you will be there.) I was able to get some for the 9:20 a.m. Rotunda-Throne Room Tour. The tour was fabulous. These caves are absolutely spectacular. Don’t bother with Carlsbad, etc. Do this one!

We were on the road by 11:30, headed to the Catalina State Park, northeast of Tucson. After winding around surface traffic for about an hour, we arrived, only to find that there was no room at the inn. Full! Bummer! Upon the advice of the kiosk attendant, we headed 5 miles north to the town of Catalina, being advised that there was an RV Park “behind the Circle K Store.” Upon arrival, I pulled off the highway, deftly avoiding major potholes in the dirt lot in front of said park. This was a burial ground for RVs. Old and older. Carly has high standards for her blue bag tours. So, it was back on the highway, heading to the next burg up the road: Florence.

The next 40 miles or so were perhaps the most boring straight-line cactus and sage brush highway in the U.S. (excepting most of the state of Texas). We desperately sought the Rancho Sonora RV Park, reputedly the best this side of Florence. Tired and disappointed, we weren’t in a mood to be choosy. We would take just about anything—and that’s what we got. A somewhat muddy space in the back 40 of this mainly white-trash snowbird haven. We set-up, plugged in, pulled the shades, and drained a bottle of Corona. As long as we didn’t look outside, it was fine, although there was a pretty sunset.

Leaving bright and early the next morning, we spied an RV park directly next door. Looked real nice. This was Florence’s finest, for sure, but it was 12 hours too late. We were headed north, “2 folks with old dog seeking nice place to stay for a few days.”

Having heard about the great regional parks in Maricopa County (Phoenix area), we headed to Usery Mountain Park, just above Apache Junction. Fortunately we phoned along the way, before getting too deep in the tules, and found that it was full, with many in the overflow lot waiting for a vacancy. We were advised to head to McDowell Mountain Regional Park, some 25 miles away. Calling there, they indicated they were full and had only one rig in the waiting area. “I’d take a chance,” the young lady optimistically advised. We were due for a break, so we headed north, passing through Fountain Hills, a very nice upscale town. Arriving at the park, we were advised that it still was full, but that we could park in the overflow lot and take our chances. We went for the gamble, becoming the new first rig in line as the earlier one was gone. Shortly thereafter the host arrived and advised us that they had one vacancy in the park for the day. With all deliberate speed, we moved to site 38. After arrival and set up, we scarfed down a peanut butter, pickle and mayonnaise sandwich (on toast). And….life was good again..

News flash: Nephew James and wife Erin, who we visited a couple days ago, had their baby----a boy, Daniel James Horgan. We will see them in Sacto in May, so we fought off the urge to make a U-turn. Mother and child doing well.

We spent a lazy afternoon, reading in the sun in new loungers purchased at Camping World in Tucson. Super deal. The next big event (other than BBQ chicken legs for dinner) was the heralded lunar eclipse, scheduled to begin at 7:00 pm. Ominously, a weather front was gathering in the area, beginning to obscure the eastern horizon, where the moon would be rising. At the appointed hour, the celestial show was cancelled—a solid black wall of clouds blotted out any chance of viewing.

A few hours later, there was an even better show—a classic desert thunderstorm. We turned off all of the lights, opened the shades and just sat there enjoying cosmic lightning flashes all around us, streaks of lighting, vertical and horizontal, dancing in the skies. Carly, having lost most of her hearing (except for my sneezes and gunfire) was initially unfazed by the distant rumblings. When the light show began, she began her classic thunderstorm teeth chattering and slinked (or slunked) back to her corner in the bedroom. The storm went on for about 2 hours, accompanied by intermittent pounding rains on the roof. Then it stopped, and the shrill wailing of a coyote family could be heard nearby.

It is now morning, the skies have mostly cleared. The desert has been cleansed, with droplets still hanging from saguaro cacti needles, glistening in the morning sun. Mountains surrounding us are crystal clear in the still clean air. Birds are singing all around in the desert shrubbery. It is a good day for a hike.

An Eclectic Kind of Day

Going to bed last night, I was sure that I was going to be awakened by the collapse of the rig next to us. It looked like it was being readied for a moon-shot, the front end showing at least 12 inches beneath the front tires. Some of the pads here are a bit uneven, but this is ridiculous.

And why is our hood propped up like that? To battle global warming? Nope.
To keep the local wood rats from chewing the wires in the engine compartment. It gets a bit too cool in there at night with the hood up, so they move to a car/truck that’s a bit cozier. This could be an urban legend, but we’ve seen these preventive measures in the last two campgrounds, so we have joined the battle against wood rats….and wire rats, too.

Heading down the road this morning, the first stop was Fort Huachuca (an Apache term describing the gastronomical effects of too much tequila). This is still a very vital army base, presumably our first line of defense against the on-going Mexican invasion. All we wanted to do was go to the museum on base to see some of the 1800s history of the place (where it was used as an outpost to clobber those pesky Apaches). The gate security folks ushered us aside and inspected our insurance certificate and drivers' licenses, inquiring as to our purpose on base. Finally assuring them that we were not terrorists (Carly didn’t even wake up), we were allowed on base, only to discover after a long drive through the base that the Museum was closed! President’s Birthday holiday! If Carly was a leg-lifter, she would have.

The next stop was Coronado National Memorial, a spectacular piece of wilderness right up against the Mexican border. It celebrates the expedition of Coronado, first name forgotten, in the 1500s, in search of the 6 (or 7?) cities of gold. (Little known fact: He made it all the way to Kansas! Toto hadn't arrived yet.) We took a drive up a winding dirt road to Montezuma Pass. The US-Mexican border was visible out there in the distance. It would have been a great day for hiking, but Carly’s repose in the back of the Honda would not permit it, and she is finished as a trail dog. This is a place to return to, P.C. (post Carly…)

Getting hungry, we could practically taste the Rueben sandwiches we were seeking down the road in Bisbee, AZ. But first, we had to pay homage to the ‘Big Pit’, a yawning chasm with a beautiful pool of toxic waste at the bottom. This superfund site was formerly the Phelps-Dodge copper mine, the most productive such mine in the US (until it closed). Bisbee itself is a quaint pocket of liberalism in conservative Arizona. Many counter-culture and sexually variant folks here. The streets are narrow and twisty, barely wide enough for ore carts. Stairways everywhere reaching up and down from levels built on hills, hillsides and across flood channels. Lotsa concrete, much of it old and cracking.. This would be a great place to open a crutch-rental business.

It was “Rueben sandwiches for two” at the Winchester Restaurant in the famous Copper Queen Hotel. They were great. Some of the best ever! This is a touristy town very reminiscent of California’s Nevada City.

Heading back to camp, we stopped briefly in Tombstone, so I could visit the historic Courthouse. Janice and Carly opted out. Interesting place where justice was swift and severe.The townfolks once thought a judge was being a bit soft in handing out a life sentence to one gent, so they stormed the jail and sprung the fellow for a quick hanging on a nearby telegraph pole. The autopsy report noted “Emphisima (sic) of the lungs, probably due to strangulation, accidental or otherwise.” Good call by the Coroner.

Free Parking in Tucson

Bought gas for the first time in 2 weeks. $2.74. Many gallons.

We arrived in Tucson and took up residence in the front driveway of nephew James Horgan and wife Erin ( and 2 year old daughter, Rayna). The price was right.

Erin is expecting imminently , so we were on maternity alert last night. Nothing happened A great burrito dinner and a nice breakfast and walk this morning before hitting the road to Kartchner State Park, south of Benson. Managed to do a load of wash along the way and pick up a supply of black licorice (me).

With this being President’s weekend, the Cavern tours are booked until Tuesday A.M., so we dedicate tomorrow to sightseeing south-east of here. Such hot-spots as Tombstone and Bisbee beckon.

The state park has a nice RV campground (electric and water) that we scoped out last year. After the recent cold spell (Saw snow on the mountaintops coming into Tucson) , the sun is shining brightly and it looks like the 70 degree days are returning. Hopefully, no more cold nights (last night:37).

Oregon in Arizona?

We’ve enjoyed our rest stop at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, spending 2 nights here. Good ranger talks at night (in the auditorium, fortunately, since it’s been quite cold here. ) High of 53 yesterday and a chilly low of 40 last night. Is this the desert? Feels like Oregon! And, add the rain yesterday and the night before. Peaceful drumming on the roof. Excellent for reading a good book or a nap.

Having finished Magellan’s tale (great book!) I stumbled into The Covenant by James Michener, not realizing until about page 50 that I had read this 25 years ago on the beach at Lake Almanor. One good thing about ‘senioritis’ is that you can read the same books again! Only a couple hundred pages to go.

Good hike before the rain yesterday. 4.8 miles (R/T) to an old gold/silver mine. Great cactus views along the way. Clouds gathered and started sprinkling just as we go back to camp.

On these cold days or nights when we can’t run the generator (limited permissible hours), we are toasted by our Mr. Heater catalytic propane heater. It supposedly has an oxygen depletion off-switch, which means that it will shut off before we go into permanent hibernation. Not trusting this gizmos completely, we don’t use it while sleeping.

It is a glorious desert morning---the blue skies have returned---Carly has left interesting specimens for future desert archeologists---and it’s time to pack up and head to Tucson, about 3 hours away. We will be driving on Hwy 86 through an Indian reservation.

Leaving Margaritaville

The departure was uneventful, and we crossed the border just at the 10:00 a.m. expiration of our insurance. Janice ruefully surrendered a couple tangerines and 4 apples (from Washington) to the US Border folks. They’ll be having fruit salad tonight. No problem with the 4 pounds of jumbo shrimp in the freezer.

We decided that a day or two of rest and reading are in order, so we stopped just over the border at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, where we will dry camp in the campground for a night or two. Nice hike today—learned more about cactus than we will ever need to know.

Time is Running Out

Took a road trip to the nearby (20 miles) condo-timeshare development —the Mayan Palace. We were herded like cattle into the ‘sales’ process, but scored a nice free brunch along the way. After nearly 2 hours of touring the place and taking the sales pitch, we declined the purchase opportunity (for a mere $49,900). They did not appreciate my suggestion that their price seemed like a Mexican opening price and that we should be able to haggle. They had a large roomful of tunas on the hook with professional arm-twisters. The golf course (a Jack Nicklaus design) looked very nice, and is available after 1 pm for only $50. That would have been the place to play instead of the local brown-course. Maybe next time??

Went to the fish-market area for a sunset snack—still full of the brunch. I enjoyed a moundful of steamed clams (complete with sand) and we both enjoyed fried ice-cream for dessert.

Carly surprised us this morning with some new floor decorations---I was not paying close enough attention to her longing looks at the door. Nor did I pay close attention to the floor, stepping in ‘it’ and spreading it further. Terrible way to start the day!

Inasmuch as we will be leaving at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow, we have already started the packing and cleaning mode

Shirt held hostage!
As is my custom on trips, I purchased a souvenir T-shirt from one of the stands on Rodeo Drive, only to realize that it was too small---I would be shrink-wrapped after the first wash. So I headed back to exchange it, only to find that the store was closed. I subsequently visited him, only to find out that he didn’t have larger sizes---but maybe he could get some from his other store. I left the shirt with him---giving him the shirt AND my $10. He was closed again yesterday. On the final visit, Senor Alejandro the Bandito was still AWOL. A lesson learned. Stupid Americano! Subsequently bought another shirt for $13.00, which according to Janice was actually a $23.00 shirt ( plus the gas for 5 visits to the store.)

The final meal at the Casita was exceptional---surf and turf especiale, which was preceded by several margaritas. Enough margaritas that I was later spied on the dance floor (dancing---not really ‘on the floor.’). This may not occur again until the next solar eclipse. A final time together with our new trailer trash friends from Iowa—Gary and Kathy Rees. Wonderful people who we plan to see again on the road someday.

Event summary:

As the saying goes on these trips---if you don’t have a good time, look in the mirror. When RVers get together, there are usually good times and good people, and sometimes ‘special people’ like Gary and Kathy. This event was well organized, and priced reasonably (considering that $500+ bought 6 meals and the RV park fees for 8 nights.). We won’t be doing this one again, as we believe we now have enough Mexico experience to do this without a caravan/rally group, though we will see if we can convince a few trip-mates to join us on the next one—whenever that is. Possibly San Felipe next winter??. Carly did quite well, and was not a burden at all, as was our original concern.

Fun in the Sun, cont'd.

The BBQ the other night was fun— 3 other couples joined us. We initiated the new margarita glasses, but a shortage of ice cubes limited the supply significantly. Need to put a blender aboard, too.

Visited the ‘brown’ golf course (La Paloma) and enjoyed the round (88). The ’brown’ is actually the earth showing through between short and sparse grass. It’s a bit thicker on the greens, but they were pretty fast and sloped. Water is at a premium here, and the course is built atop beachfront sands, so it is likely that this is a special type of grass. An interesting course, but not for $672 pesos.

The great weather continues—sunny and 70s.

Excellent meal at the local diner last night: filet mignon.

Mui Grande Munchos

The view from El Capitan

The food experience took a definite upswing with a sunset dinner at El Capitan, atop a hill overlooking the Rocky Point/Puerto Penasco area. Exceptional food, beginning with a plate of raw oysters, then followed by camarones (shrimp) wrapped in bacon, stuffed with cheese (Janice) and in a mushroom, cream wine sauce (me). Main courses were about $15-$18 .


Today’s adventure was a return to Rodeo Drive, the local strip of turista shops. I purchased a tee shirt there yesterday (size-large) which I subsequently discovered was a bit tight. One washing would make it shrink-wrap. We tried to locate the shop where it was purchase, but Senor shopowner had not yet opened for the day, so I will have to return later. I realize that they likely do not share the Costco return policy, but as the saying goes in Mexico, “There’s no harm in asking.”

Janice has scored a jacket, a necklace pendant and 2 pairs of earrings. Grand total: $45.

Today’s itinerary includes a 1 pm kite flying competition and a group photo. Not owning a kite, we will spectate this one. For dinner tonight, we will be hosting a bring your own BBQ next to our rig with 2 other couples. Might be an occasion to initiate our new margarita glasses. (Yesterday was declared a margarita-free day.)

Our current location (link)

Lazy Days in the Sun

Sunny and 70s. That appears to be the forecast for the next several days. Finally put the shorts on yesterday, which probably caused the annual white flash in the western hemisphere.

We have settled into a pretty lazy routine here. Aside from the mandatory ½ hour daily walk, we are slugs, moving only in the late afternoon to head up/down the beach to the cantina for dinner and/or margaritas. (I have disproved any allergy to tequila.)


A gastronomical review: Yesterday featured a “shrimpboil” and pot-luck salad bar in the RV Park for our group. About 60 lbs of shrimp was cooked and I went back to the feed trough three times for succulent shrimp.

Other meals at the local casita have not been so fabulous. The Mexican buffet the first night was so-so. Much better fare has come out of our kitchen in Sacramento. ….and the chicken cordon bleu the next night were tired and dry---no cheese filling either. To make matters worse, the veranda was packed with a couple tour-busses full of visitors who overwhelmed the bar waiters, causing extreme delay in the arrival of our daily dose of margaritas.

Tonight we will be dining out with compadres Gary and Kathy, nice folks from Iowa some 10 years our senior…but a very youthful duo. Of the 30 or so couples on this trip, probably 2/3 of them are over 65, with many in their 70s. A pretty lively group nonetheless.


Picture of the day:



The local casita featured a toilet with sturdy handrails---the first such contraption I have seen in a a public restroom.


Why the handrails? three possible theories:


1) Quite a few seniors among the patrons ( the handrails will be removed for spring break??)

2) Very potent tequila in the margaritas.

3) TNT in the burritos.


The reading list:

Janice is working on The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, a 'medieval epic tale'.
I am now reading Over the Edge of the World by Laurence Bergreen, a carefully researched account of Magellan's circumnavigation in 1519-22.