Saturday, May 28, 2011

HB to M's B

Yesterday was my blog’s birthday: Happy Birthday to Mike’s Blog!  Yea! 3 cheers! Hip, Hip, Crapola!!!
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We celebrated the auspicious occasion by going out on the town, drinking a magnum of Dom Perignon champagne, having a fantastic prime rib dinner, returning home and making mad passionate love to the wee hours.  If you believe that pack of lies, perhaps you’d like to buy a famous bridge.  There’s one nearby and such a deal I’ll give you.  Well, it was sort of believable until the ‘making love to the wee hours’ part.
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Truthfully? Forgot all about it.  It popped into my mind at 2:01 AM today, the day after.  So, at 2:06 AM, I hopped out of bed, made a pot of coffee, and hustled to the computer to memorialize the non-event with this blog post.  Dinner was actually the gotta-empty-the-fridge special: frozen meatballs (5 each), frozen spinach, pickled beets and French bread.  It’s not as bad as it sounds: we nuked the frozen stuff.
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Back to the blog, 135 posts were made during its first year of existence.  Who’d a thunk I had that much to write about?  Everybody that knows me, I suppose.  Anybody that knows me very well has long since come to realize I’m choc full o’ BS.  Relatively few, however, probably suspected how deep it really was.
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Not a bad idea, though, the champagne, got a chilled bottle in the fridge.  So much to celebrate: Blog’s Birthday, Memorial Day, the arrival of my brother Pat and his wife Julie for a short visit, and launching our summer tour.  If that’s not cause enough, there’s always the fridge cleaning issue: that bottle’s been in there several months and I don’t think champagne improves with age - not the cheap swill we buy anyway.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Scrabble Player(s) Wanted

Nature or nurture?  Whose fault is it, Jane’s or genes?  Mature readers know Jane - and Dick and Baby Sally and Spot and Puff.  Most of us learned to read on Dick and Jane primers.  Many of us, myself included, became immediately and irreversibly addicted from the get go, reading everything in the house and then nearly everything in the school libraries, reading the back of the Wheaties box, reading on the john, reading way past bedtime, reading under the blanket with a flashlight.  Quite a few avid readers, again including myself, developed a fondness for words themselves.  I enjoy word play, be it writing doggerel, making groaner puns, doing blog posts or playing word games.
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Until recently it had been years since I’d played word games with any regularity.  A few months ago, a friend invited me to play scrabble online and we’ve played numerous games.  I’ve found online play to be especially appealing because you and your opponent don’t have to coordinate and set aside a 2-3 hour block of time to play.  And, of course, the two of you don’t have to be in the same room - or the same town, city, state or country.  Whenever and wherever it’s convenient, you can login via computer, smart phone, or whatever and spend a few minutes figuring out your next play.
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If you’re into word games and would like to give it a shot, let me know via my regular email (not gmail) address.  Some players have several games going at once.  I’m not sure how many I can handle, will see how it goes.  I doubt that I’ll be inundated with responses, but you never know.  First come, first served.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Heading Out

It’s time for us to retreat from the heat, hit the street and beat feet.  D-Day is May 30th. 
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This summer’s adventure will be shorter than last year’s: 2-3 months instead of 4, and considerably less ambitious.  Total miles driven will be about 6000 less; AK was a right fur piece don’t you know.  We look forward to more exploring, golfing and playing along with less driving, setting up and breaking down camp.
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Our northernmost point will be in Frog-land, specifically Sayabec, Quebec.  Sayabec appears to be nothing more than a wide spot in the road and is not a destination in itself.  Nor is Quebec for that matter.  They just happen to be en route to the real destination, the Canadian Maritime Provinces: New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia.
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What has us excited right now is our Lake Powell houseboat trip the first week of June.  Friends and family are coming from all over (Oregon, Montana, Minnesota and China) to enjoy the awesome scenery with us.  After the houseboat, we head to MN for the family reunion and then off to Canada.
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Soon, my blog posts will become more frequent and will include lots of pix - and, of course, readers will be on the edges of their seats awaiting the next post, checking the website every few minutes, bodies trembling in ecstatic anticipation.  Uh huh.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Eunuch Golf

A few miles down the road from Buckskin lies the Emerald Canyon golf course.  It’s a beauty.  Laid out in valleys surrounded by rocky foothills, it meanders around following the natural terrain.  Trish and I have never played there cuz we’re too cheap and prefer par-3 courses.  But we’re gonna play 9 holes there before we leave for the summer, taking advantage of the seasonal rate: $15 per person, including power cart.
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While staying at Buckskin I had planned to go to the driving range at EC and whack a bucket of balls, hadn’t been to a driving range for a year or so.  I parked the pickup in the lot, carried my clubs up the hill to the driving range, set them down and headed for the golf ball dispensing machine.  Wouldn’t you know it, damn thing takes tokens - and there’s no token dispensing machine.  So I trudge further up the hill to the pro shop, buy 2 tokens for $6 and return to the ball machine.
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I feed the first token in.  Clunk, clunk, clunk.  Three balls fall into the bucket.  There should be 30 in the bucket, not 3.  I push all the buttons and slap the machine upside the head a few times.  Nothing.  No balls.  Nada.  Ah, what the hell, might as well try the second token.  I feed it in, the machine swallows it.  Nothing.  No balls.  Nada.  The machine is a freakin’ eunuch!
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I trudge back up to the pro shop and tell the lady at the counter that she has no balls.  Oh dear.  Everyone’s gone for the day except me and I can’t leave the shop.  She gives my $6 back.  I return to the driving range and whack my 3 balls with my driver.  Typical cold start: top the first one, second one goes straight but is not well hit, slice the third one.  I practiced putting awhile.  Went back to Buckskin and drowned my sorrows in an IPA.  

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Buckskin Mt SP, Parker, AZ


                      Shuffleboard courts


          Looking downriver, AZ left, CA right
               

           The campground from above, mostly empty, EDGE hiding under tree.


          Campground at sunrise.
         


Bluewater Casino, about 5 miles downriver.


          Casino/hotel interior, didn't do any gambling, just looking


Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Going Our Separate Ways

Yes, it's true: Trish and I are going our separate ways. She: 1200 miles north. Me: 30 miles south. She: Portland, OR. Me: Buckskin Mt State Park, AZ.
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Trish is driving to Portland to visit her daughters and various friends, will be gone 10 days. Rather than staying home and running the grave risk of contracting that dreaded disease, cabin fever, whilst she’s gone, I’m taking the EDGE downriver for a few days. Buckskin is on the Colorado River in the Parker Strip, a 16 mile stretch on the AZ side of the Colorado that lies between 2 dams: Parker and Headgate Rock.
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I’ve been meaning to investigate the Strip for some time. It’s full of parks, campgrounds, resorts and homes, has a population of nearly 4000. La Paz County Park, where we camped for a couple nights last fall, is also on the strip. La Paz didn’t have fire rings, nor does Buckskin. Most AZ campgrounds don’t - which gripes me a bit cuz I do love my campfires. Some RVers carry washing machine drums and use them for small, contained campfires. The drums appear to work well and park management is okay with them. I doubt I’ll acquire one, though: we don’t camp in AZ that much and finding room for it in the pickup would be a challenge.
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My brief EDGE adventure will also serve as the final shakedown cruise before our 3-month summer odyssey to northeastern Canada and US. We’ve done several modifications to the trailer since last summer but have already tested them so there’s not much to shake down. But, there’s always something that needs to be inspected, cleaned, lubed, adjusted or tightened. Take a studio apartment, slap wheels on it, pull it around for 20,000 miles - including several hundred nasty unpaved miles - and shit happens. Lots of shit. For you Latino readers, thats mucho excremento.  I'm nothing if not totally PC.  Yeah.  Right.  Bite me.
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PS: did that title and opening line have you hooked for a second?