Okay, we’re down to the last blog entry for “AB1’s Travails … (make that “Travels”) 2014.” It’s been one exciting moment after another for seven months, but now it’s time to act like a grown-up and go home and pay some bills. Our time on the road was summarized nicely by loyal reader John Janezic from Mesa, AZ, who enjoys following us on Facebook. He calls it our “constant vacation.” I like the sound of that.
On Sunday, October 19, we made our way to Monument Valley, Utah. It was the only site this year out of the 43 campgrounds at which we pitched our mobile tent that we also visited last year. Unfinished business and all, you know. We had actually planned to stay further east at Canyon de Chelly (pronounced “d’SHAY”), but there didn’t seem to be any campgrounds with full-service hook-ups (electricity, water, sewer, cable), and we didn’t want to risk the cats getting stuck in AB1 with no air conditioning on an unseasonably hot day. They also need to watch their “stories”on “Animal Planet” cable, so, Monument Valley it was. The next day we made the 85-mile drive to the aforementioned Canyon de Chelly (CDC) National Monument. This incredible freak-land of nature has some of the most beautiful scenery in the country. In fact, after pretty much seeing the whole nation this year, we’d both have to say that the prettiest natural scenery is in the Arizona-Utah lands of canyons and mountains … just our opinion, remember. CDC was established on April 1, 1931. Its 84,000 acres are located within the Dine’ (Navajo) Nation Reservation. A few Navajo families still live down in the canyon making it one of the longest continually inhabited areas in the North America. Native Americans have lived there for over 5,000 years. It was only (only?) about 700 years ago that they moved away, probably due to lack of water. The walls that create the canyons are 1,000’ high over the canyon floor. On our self-guided tour, we stopped at a few overlooks. The first was Spider Rock, an 800’ tall spire that is the most prominent landmark in the area. It was named for “Spider Woman,” the deity who taught Navajo woman how to weave. She’s a distant relation to Spiderman.
We also made stops at Face Rock, Sliding House, and finally the White House overlook. At this last one, we hiked the only trail down into the canyon permitted without a Navajo guide. As usual, going down was easy; going up, well, we made a few more stops to rest up. When we finally made it to the bottom, we were rewarded with the site of The White House Ruins/Cliff Dwellings. They are absolutely incredible. Approximately 12 families used to live at the White House Ruins which had 80 rooms. The cliff dwellings were constructed around 1060 A.D. A lovely French-Canadian couple was nice enough to take our Christmas card picture for us in front of the ruins. Our cards will be titled: “Merry Christmas … from the White House!” Our fine Monument Valley campground had the good sense to offer cable TV hook-ups, so the next day after some extensive R&B (rest and blogging), we were able to watch game 1 of the 2014 Major League Baseball World Series. It’s something I never miss. The Giants’ Madison Bumgarner was tough again as he led the Bay Area boys to win #1. Now all you Kaye and Stuart blogsters are keenly aware that we don’t normally pay to take tours. We like doing it on our own, figuring things out for ourselves. Plus, you’re usually at the mercy of the many weird eccentricities of the other tour customers. But unfortunately for us on Wednesday, the 17-mile road through Monument Valley is far too bumpy for us to drive our little Zippy, so we decided that the only way we were going to get to see the incredible sites of the Valley was to bite the bullet and take the tour. Good luck to us today. Our Monument Valley campground was in Utah, but most of the park is in Arizona. It’s also a Navajo Tribal Park; its 30,000 acres were established in 1958. Its elevation is 5,500’ on the Utah-Arizona border. The first inhabitants of the Valley were the Anasazi who built cliff dwellings there some 1,500 years ago, then vanished.
To see as much as possible without shooting the whole day, we opted for the morning deluxe tour of 3.5 hours. Besides the sites of Monument Valley, we also got to go into a traditional Navajo shelter. It was a hexagon shaped dome structure called a “hogan” where an elderly Navajo woman showed us how to weave blankets. She used some of her homemade yarn to tie up Diedre’s hair as my comely wife was the only lady young enough in the tour with somewhat long hair. I then proceeded to pull the bonehead move of the day (or better “the week, the month, or the year”) when I tried to take DK’s picture with the elder Navajo woman. Not paying attention as I am wont to do, I attempted to kneel down for a better picture by bracing myself on a nearby metal table … only … it wasn’t a table. It was a stove. HOT! HOT! HOT!
Yes, I and about everybody else in the hogan yelled, although I was the only one who burned the four fingertips on my left hand. Luckily, Joe the Navajo Guide had a rare old Indian salve that he smeared on my fingers. Miraculously, it took the pain away immediately as well as my fingerprints. If I’m going to commit any major crimes in the near future, I’ll have to do them left-handed so as to leave no fingerprints. Joe had a Navajo name for his rare burn ointment. He called it “bah-ka-teen.” I noticed the bottle spelled it “Bactine.”
Coming back rapidly from that near-death experience, I gamely hung in there and finished the tour. We made it to “John Ford’s Point,” named for the first Hollywood director to use Monument Valley for movies. His initial film there was “Stagecoach” in 1938 starring John Wayne.
There were so many incredible natural rock formations. I can’t remember what they called one, so I named it “The Big W” which you’ll no doubt remember from that great movie from the early ‘60’s, “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.” I can still remember a dying Jimmy Durante telling the group who found him after he drove his car off a cliff, “IT’S UNDER THE BIG ‘W’ I’M TELLING YOU! 350-G’s AND I’M GIVIN’ IT TO YOU! I TELL YA, I’M GIVING IT TO YOU! THE BIG W!”
We also made it to “The Big O,” although the natives prefer to call it “The Big Hogan.” It was a natural amphitheater with an incredible natural hole in the rock ceiling. As we laid on the ground looking up at The Big O, native guide Joe sang to us an ancient tribal Indian song; I think it made the Top 40 in 1887.
Although the sites were spectacular, we really can’t recommend this tour to you, our loyal blogophiles. It seemed that every ten minutes, Joe was stopping the tour bus at mini-flea markets where his pals and palettes were selling Indian jewelry and other trinkets. It was time better spent seeing the countryside, but we really had no voice in the matter.
One year ago on the 2013 AB1 Tour, Diedre and I had hiked around the legendary Monument Valley landmark, The Left Mitten. Just short of four miles, we had gotten halfway around it when the rains came. Lucky us. This year, under very blue skies, we decided to try it again. It’s one of the best hikes we’ve ever taken, although for whatever reason, this year we were completely exhausted by the time we got back to the trail head. Maybe we needed the rain to energize us. When we got home, we collapsed on the couch, barely able to stay awake to see Kansas City even up the Series at a game apiece.
On Thursday, October 23, we drove to Flagstaff, AZ, for a two night stay. We had originally scheduled it to meet up with DK’s cousin, Connie, whom she hadn’t seen in 30-some years. Unfortunately, Connie was called out of state. But we had never really given Flagstaff a fair shot, having driven through it at least 20 times on our way to and from Minnesota, but never stopping for anything more than gas and a Burger King. So on this night, we decided to walk the historic downtown portion of the city. And it was fascinating.
The next day we saw another of Arizona’s Native American ruins at the Walnut Canyon National Monument. Elevation there was 6,690’ at the trail’s start. The ancient Sinagua people appeared here about 1,400 years ago. In 1915, Walnut Canyon was declared a national monument to preserve the remains of 300 ruins, mostly cliff dwellings. The homes, built on the side of mountains using huge rocks naturally cantilevered out as roofs, acted as natural fortresses. The most scenic hike led up and down the mountain as we investigated the centuries old cliff dwellings. Diedre also got in some much-needed Grand Canyon training while I tested the strength limits of every bench they had along the route. 
Exhausted and starving, we made our way back into town to a place we had been to in years past. The Beaver Street Brewery is loved by us for three things: an incredible tap beer selection; the best Fish Tacos of all time (says Diedre); and the best (says Alexx) Chicken Caesar Salad (with anchovies) ever. The salad was so huge that no matter how much I ate … it never got any smaller! “How can that be?” I asked. “Oh, it be, “ replied Diedre Kaye (Note another “Seinfeld” reference).
After that hardy lunch, we walked off some of the calories by checking out the campus of the nearby Northern Arizona University. Diedre wanted to see the theatre department’s offerings because so many of her young students and actors had attended college there. As part of my history fix, we found the first campus building erected in the late 1800’s; now it’s an art museum. It was a very pretty campus, especially with the autumn leaves falling everywhere. We’re just not accustomed to seeing leaves, at least not since our time in Minnesota 17 years ago. It was fun to see them again, although I told Diedre in no uncertain terms … I’M NOT RAKING THEM! We then picked up pizza and boogied back to AB1 in time to see KC win World Series game #3. YAY!
OK, one more stop to go, then it’s home again for the first time in seven months. While we drove to Lake Havasu, AZ, DK and I went through our usual ways to pass time while going between campgrounds: crossword puzzles, sports trivia, brainstorm sessions and research about a play I’m working on (entitled “The Hobo Diet”; watch for it on Broadway soon), and books-on-tape (CDs). We had been so enthralled by the book, “Unbroken” by Laura Hillenbrand that at times we couldn’t wait to get back into driving mode so we could hear more of the story. Well, today we finished it. It was the incredible true story of Louis Zamperini, an American runner who qualified for the 1936 “Hitler” Olympics, and who later, as a bombardier, crashed in the Pacific, survived 47 days on a life raft while constantly battling sharks and Japanese aircraft gunners, and then went through two years of absolute hell in Japanese prisoner-of-war camps. It was a gripping tale. It premiers as a movie on Christmas Day; you won’t want to miss this one. Settling in that night at the fine Havasu Springs RV Park and Resort, we relaxed as the Giants evened up the Series at two games each. The unrelaxing part would come tomorrow. Historically, Diedre and I avoid time-share presentations like the plague. Oh sure, we did one in Key West, FL, in order to get both free snorkel cruises and free admissions into the Ernest Hemingway House, complete with six-toed cat descendents of Ernest’s original pets. And on the island of Cozumel, Mexico, we did cave in on a 90-minute presentation in order to get free use of a motorbike for touring the island. But those happened 20+ years ago, and we had never done one since. Life’s too short and there’s too much else to see and do on our trips to waste time subjecting yourself to the entreaties of high-powered sales people. So, we didn’t … until now. This resort offered something we actually might use: free camping for life all over the country for a one-time fee. That plus an offer of four free nights on this trip plus $100 of gas and a free I-Pad knock-off (I think it was an “R-Pad”) made the 90-minute presentation seem somewhat reasonable. Sooooo, on Sunday, October 26, we met with Stacy, the campground timeshare guy. I knew I shouldn’t trust him almost immediately; he was wearing a Green Bay Packer T-shirt. After the presentation, he did that salesman thing where he pushed for a commitment right away. Diedre wanted to do some research on his offer, so in the end, he gave us 24 hours. While I then watched Madison Bumgarner win for the Giants again, Diedre got out her computer and calculator and went to work. That was not a good sign for Stacy. It turned out that by reading the fine print, Diedre discovered that the “free” camping promised us would actually cost about $3,000 a year in miscellaneous “fees.” The next morning, Stacy was shocked to hear that; apparently the resort had fooled him, too. We said we might consider it again in two years, and like that, our 90-minute commitment was over.
Before dinner, we hiked the Bill Williams River National Wildlife Refuge, both The Delta Trail and The Peninsula Trail. It’s an incredible bird sanctuary and there’s also apparently very good fishing in the area. From there, we drove into Lake Havasu City. It was founded in 1963, but multi-millionaire Robert McCulloch of McCulloch chain-saws And Engines really gave the city its notoriety when he bought at auction the nursery rhyme famous London Bridge for $2.46-million in 1968. The London Bridge was erected in London over the Thames River in 1831, but 90 years later, they realized it couldn’t handle the weight of 20th century automobile traffic, so the city put it up for sale. Winning bidder McCulloch then had the bridge disassembled, the bricks painstakingly numbered, and had it shipped to Lake Havasu City. The bridge was reconstructed in 1971. I especially like that the vintage lamps on the bridge were made from the melted down cannons of Napoleon Bonaparte’s army.
Dinner that night was at a brewery that was practically ON the London Bridge. And contrary to what I’ve heard many times over the years, London Bridge is NOT falling down. Dinner was followed by a walk over to the movie theater to see that wonderful new Bill Murray movie, “St. Vincent.” We both recommend it. Bill Murray attended Regis College with my lifelong friend, John “Duppy” Lamb, back in the late 60’s. If you ever get a chance, ask Dupp to tell you the story of when Bill Murray pranked him with the “Atomic Sit-up” gag. It’s pretty funny.
For all practical purposes, that movie was the end of “RV Trip 2014.” On Tuesday, we had our last R&B. We packed up for the final time as we watched the Royals rally to tie the Series at 3-games all. Then on Wednesday, October 29, we set sail for the last time this year. In just three hours, we’d be home for the first time in 212 days. Although it has been a great time these past seven months, as Dorothy so wisely once` said: “THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME! THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME!” See you in 2015!
Kanab, Utah … It’s called “The Greatest Earth on Show.”
That’s not too far off. It’s in the center of Utah’s tremendous beauty consisting of a whole host of national parks. Kanab is a bit rustic, though. We were kind of cut off from civilization there: no newspapers, no ESPN, limited Wifi, and their McDonald’s had no drive-through … it was like we were living back in the Stone Age. There was no way to keep up with the really important things that were happening in the world, events such as the mideast crisis, the Ebola outbreak, or the baseball scores. Somehow, we survived.
After Diedre Kaye, the four most important things in my life all begin with the letter “C”: cats, chocolate, comedy, and Cooperstown (OK, well, that’s “baseball,” but I needed a “C”). So our week in Kanab (Canab?) was not to be dedicated to baseball, it was not to be dedicated to theatre, it was to be dedicated to our furry feline friends, the cats.
No, not our three cats, Charlie, Casey, and Samantha, who so earnestly made this seven-month RV odyssey with us and have been such good sports about being cooped up in (to them) a cramped RV space with no chance to see the sites other than from the front dashboard windshield. No, these would be the cats of “Best Friends,” (BF) the largest animal rescue sanctuary for abused, abandoned, and neglected animals in the country. On their incredibly scenic red-rock 3,000 acres, they have massive and spacious indoor/outdoor enclosures for cats, dogs, birds, horses, pigs, and rabbits. At any given time, there are usually around 1,700 animals on campus. And that’s where we would be spending the week doing volunteer work at “Cat World,” Best Friends’ feline sanctuary, Diedre’s allergies to cats be damned.
On Monday, October 13, we checked in at 8 a.m. at BF and went through their strenuous volunteer training. It took about 10 minutes. We were then assigned to “Casa De CalMar,” which specializes in cats with the feline leukemia virus. These cats don’t necessarily have a good prognosis, but they were all incredibly social cats.
Cat World has 11 houses for their feline friends including one that’s named ”The Biggest Losers’ Club” for overweight cats. To the credit of the BF staff’s careful watch of nutrition for their cats, only four were in that house.
Each house has a different specialty. They all have a good sized central lobby area with 2-4 offshoot wings. Each wing is about the size of a single car garage. These wings are split in half with the indoor portion and the outdoor enclosure connected by myriad cat doors at several levels. The cats have more than enough room to roam.
Our volunteer time was 8:15 A.M. to 11:30 Monday through Friday. We did whatever we could to help the staff of each house with cleaning, feeding, and socializing with the cats. In the very first wing we entered in the outdoor portion, I had no sooner taken a seat on the floor than “Mister,” an amazingly friendly tabby, climbed up on my lap and became my buddy for the day. We found that in any house we entered, there were timid cats, shy cats, and casual cats, but there were always at least one or two, like Mister, who had no fear of humans and desperately wanted to be loved. They’d come up to you immediately, asking for no references, and before you knew it, they’d be in your lap getting their pets and taking their naps. The purring from those cats resounded throughout the sanctuary.
Some of the cats were actually very good at taking walks on a leash. While DK was walking Barney, a giant orange tabby, we found the cutest, gamest little kitten at the house next door. “Montana” was a tiny ball of Birman fur. He was missing his right, rear leg, and had little use of the left one, but that did not deter him in the least from scooting around the yard pulling himself around with his two front paws. He was just an incredibly sweet little boy. I would have adopted him on the spot, but his medical care is both expensive and requires a lot more training than we’re probably up for at our age. Still, what a little buddy!
As you’ll recall from last year’s blog, we had already stayed in Kanab and seen most of the sites in this two stoplight town. So on our first afternoon back, we just walked the town to refamiliarize ourselves with what they had to offer. Our RV park was an easy walk to anywhere in town, so that made it extra nice.
On Tuesday morning, we were back at it, this time at Quincy House, the home for cats with special needs (handicapped) and social cats. I had chosen it because I wanted to spend more time with my new buddy, Montana
After doing a total cleanup of one of the wings, Diedre got the cat comb and brush out and started spiffing up the kids. Like Mister yesterday, she was immediately set upon by “G.I. Joe” who could not get enough of the combing. While this kept my better half busy for quite awhile, I grabbed the specially built cat-buggy and took new friends Spanky, Oliver, and eventually G.I. Joe for rides in the forested area. This also helped me get in part of my daily three-mile walk. The cats seemed to love seeing new sites from the buggy, but the really amazing part for me was that almost any staff member who happened by knew my buggy‘s occupant by name, even if they were from a different cat house. There were 200-300 cats there that week, but all the staff knew each one as if they were their children. Pretty neat!
At the end of the day’s shift, I had one last moment with my little buddy, Montana, while Diedre said good-bye to “Zulu,” her funny little kitten who was intrigued by boxes. Today we would be taking our lunch at Angel Village, the vegan lunch room available to all staff and volunteers. It was a $5 buffet that, coupled with the incredible patio view, would have been four times the cost at any other restaurant. We once again finished the day by walking the town of Kanab.
The next day’s house was called “Mondrian’s” and it cared for both social and shy cats. Today a little girl kitty, “Skadi,” stole my heart. We must have played with her string toy for 30 minutes. You know, Diedre and I can both really see now how people become “Crazy Cat Ladies/Guys.” As would happen every day, Diedre and I would each have a favorite in whatever house we were working. We would each find at least one (usually more) cute as all-get-out cats whom we wanted to take home. We had to keep reminding each other that THREE was our limit, although as children, Diedre had at one time kept 17 cats on the family’s hobby farm while I had eight at about the same time. That was back before we knew about “Kitty Kontraceptives.” But as adults, we’ve decided that after three cats, you do officially become the neighborhood’s “Crazy Cat Lady/Guy.”
Instead of a vegan lunch that day, we ventured out into BF’s massive park lands and tried to find “Hidden Lake” where we had visited last year. Somewhere along the way, we took a wrong turn. Didn’t matter. Wherever you were in their great outdoors, the views were incredible.
Thursday, October 16, 2014, would be a huge day for me. I’ll fill you in on that a little later.
Today we volunteered at “Morgaine” house. It was a lot of fun because in addition to the special needs cats it housed, there were also a boatload of kittens. Sylvester, a little cuddler, seemed to be DK’s favorite du jour; she actually liked him so much that she wanted to turn our “Three Stooges of Cats” into “The Four Feline Marx Brothers.” I had to put my foot down, which wasn’t easy what with the cat-do all over the place.
I had became enamored with three cats that day: “Heidi,” “Dolores” (Seinfeld note: rhymes with a female body part), and Sequoia who was just so sweet. Her story was one of a dedicated mom protecting her kittens after being abandoned in the wild until BF finally stepped in. We got to go to an adjacent wing to see Sequoia’s kittens who were being specially cared for. They were all just so darned cute.
OK, the reason that October 16, 2014, was a huge day for me was because it would be the 1,000th day of my streak of walking at least three-miles a day (or playing at least two softball games) going back to my heart surgery in January of 2012. To celebrate my 3,000 mile journey, we again hiked the area, this time taking the correct route to Hidden Lake where we had a wonderful picnic. In my celebration picture, I’m utilizing my high school Latin by flashing the Roman gang sign for one-thousand (a 1 with one hand and the letter “M” with the other).
The celebration of “The Streak” hitting 1,000 continued with dinner at the top restaurant in Kanab (right after “Jack-in-the-Box”), “The Rockin’ V Café Fine Dining.” The Food Sheriff said that since this was my 1,000th day of three-mile walking, she would not be on patrol that night. It was like turning the fox loose in the hen house. I was able to order chicken and LINGUINI!
Friday would be our last day on the kitty-campus. We opted to work at “Jill’s Diner,” yet another of BF’s cat houses for social and shy cats. Now, nobody had said it was going to be easy working on this gigantic, industrial cat farm on the mean streets of Cat World. First off, Diedre banged her head so hard on a cat shelf while cleaning that her mind went all ker-flooey. For a moment, she thought she was on the Broadway stage doing a performance of “Cats” with Henry Winkler. Fortunately, she recovered before they took the show on the road.
I, on the other hand, had problems of my own. Two cats, “Z” and “Day Dream,” had made their ways up my legs and had both decided to spend the afternoon in my considerable lap. Apparently, though, not considerable enough for the two of them. A cat fight ensued and I, the innocent bystander, nearly had my right arm bitten off by a fierce mountain-lion type kitty who was probably all of six pounds. One band-aid and some Bactine later, I was back in the game. My toughness is why I’ve been called “The Alley Cat.”
After bidding BF a fond farewell until next year, we started a new walking streak. Mine was still at 1,001, but Diedre vowed to start one also. Her’s stands at “1” after today’s hike up and down Kanab’s local mountain.
On Saturday, our only free day in Kanab, with planning help from the kids we decided to make the most of the region’s beauty by venturing about 35 miles east to hike the Wirepass Trail slot canyons at Buckskin Gulch Park. We were not disappointed.
My lovely bride had helped me celebrate my 1,000 days of hiking by getting me a special commemorative T-shirt being sold all over town. Check it out. There are both front and rear views. Contact Diedre for the team price if you’d like one too.
The scenery at the park was incredible even before we got to the slots. Once there, we squeezed our way through parts that were only 2-3 feet wide with 100’ high walls. And when the slots opened up, there were amphitheater-like settings that would dwarf in size anything Broadway has to offer.
In one damp area, we saw mud of a rich, deep brown color that was partially dried. Diedre immediately saw how wonderful it would be to make clay pots out of it, while Alexx’s childlike mind thought only of milk chocolate.
Parts of the trek were hand-over-hand and called for assisted climbing, but we two senior citizens teamed up to make it there and back. It was a great day to end a wonderful week.
All right, we’re on the home stretch now. The last blog will be about the three final stops in our adopted home state of Arizona: Monument Valley, Flagstaff, and Lake Havasu. It’ll then be followed by the year’s wrap-up and a preview of 2015’s RV Extravaganza. Stay tuned!
As most of you know, I play senior softball on an Arizona 60-years-and-older-softball team. The players are from all over the country (Washington, Minnesota, South Dakota, Missouri, Wisconsin, Nevada, two from Ohio, and five from Michigan), but we meet up every winter to play tournaments in the southwest from January through March. And every year for the past four years, we’ve also met up in St. George, Utah, the first week in October to take part in The Huntsman Games.
The Huntsman Games are a sort of Olympics for seniors 50 and older. 2014 will be the 28th year they’ve been held and they just keep getting bigger and better with each new edition. This year will see a record 10,500 athletes from 66 nations competing in 28 sports which, besides all the usual events, even includes competition in square dancing and bridge.
My team, the Rox, has won two silver medals and a gold in our three years of taking part in the games’ softball tourney which usually consists of 50-55 Over-60 teams. We’re the old guys now of the event as all but one of our players are 64+. This means we’ll be competing against young hotshot 60-year old kids making it our toughest shot to medal. But on the plus side, we’ll move up next year to the 65+ division, once again making us the terrors of the tournament, so wish us well in our last year as 60’s.
On Sunday, October 5, after winning our 4th consecutive tournament in the warm-up event in Mesquite, Nevada, we hopped in AB1 to make our way up Interstate-15 on the short 1-hour drive to St. George, UT. We quickly set up camp, then found our way to the Lexington Hotel where, courtesy of Jim and Carol Erickson securing the party room, Diedre and I would host our annual Margarita Party.
We have hosted just such a party for every out-of-town senior softball tourney I’ve played in since 1999. It’s a great way for the team and other softball pals to get together for some camaraderie before the tournament starts. And this party was as good as any as we’ve ever had. We were joined by our parent club, the 65+ Rockies. A great time was had by all.
The Huntsman Games softball tournament guarantees every team at least five games. You start off in pool-play in a four-team grouping where every team plays every other team. Then based on your record, you’re put into a division with other teams who have similar round-robin records to yours. The highest level, the “Major,” is what we’ve always been in during our Huntsman history. This year was no different as we swept two games on Monday at the scenic Gubler Park, beating the Codgers from Salem, OR, 15-3, and then thrashing Renton, WA, 21-5. We then won our third game played on Tuesday at the main softball complex trouncing Cut Loose from California 16-3. All games were shortened by the 12-run mercy rule. It’s really fun playing on a team where all 13 guys are hitting and no one guy is expected to carry the team. That’s how we were playing.
We would now be competing against four other undefeated teams for the Major (top flight) championship on Wednesday and Thursday. Tuesday’s completion of our Round-Robin victories was celebrated in our usual fashion with a team victory-dinner at the Gun & Barrel Restaurant.
The Huntsman organization does everything here first class. This two week long extravaganza of senior sports has a trade show atmosphere along with gigantic opening ceremonies just like the real Olympics. Each sport has its own “social” get-together early Tuesday evening for players and coaches to renew old acquaintances and make new ones over some good food. The thing I think is really special is the fact that during every game in every sport at the Huntsman, they supply your team with a huge platter of apples, bananas, and oranges to help keep your old-guy-energy up at a suitable level. There’s little worry about the bottom-line here.
Seeded 2nd in the five-team, double-elimination event, we started off hot on Wednesday and won again, beating a good Athletic Outfitters/Trovato team from New York 16-4. The Rox Express was rolling. We were now in the winners’ bracket finale and were guaranteed no worse than a 3rd place finish and a bronze medal. However, we had our sites set higher than that.
Before the game, Tom Witucky, our left-fielder, told me a good story about the night before. Jim Sobek, the manager of the older Rockies team, is quite a character. Tommy was at dinner last night with Jimmy and a few other people. Everyone else had no problem ordering, but Jimmy was still considering his options. He likes to give everyone a bit of a hard time.
“So, how are the ribs?” he asked their poor waitress.
“They’re quite tasty,” she responded.
“Well,” said jimmy, “a guy in the bathroom said they’re dry.”
This flustered the waitress a little, but she managed to get out an “Oh, … I like ‘em” reply.
“And, uh, how about the potatoes?” Jimmy continued. “Are they any good?”
The waitress glared at Jimmy for a count.
“I don’t know,” she tartly replied. “Why don’t you go ask the guy in the bathroom?”
The place erupted in laughter.
In our second game on Wednesday, we finally met our match as a “youngish” 60+ team from Michigan, the Salsa Bombers, barely edged us 15-13 in the winners’ bracket finale. The Bombers roster was full of kids, the 60-year old variety, and their power was a bit much to keep up with. But we did, and when we got to the bottom of the last inning only down two, I was sure we’d rally and pull out a victory … but we didn’t. In years past, a comeback by us was the order of the day. Maybe the years are catching up with us. Who knows?
We would now need to win three straight on Thursday, October 9, to take gold. But again, we ran into a buzz-saw, this time by the name of Laff, a combination team from Nevada-California. The highest level of play at the Huntsman Games allows a team to hit no more than seven home runs. Well, we hit one; they hit seven! The final score was them-18, us-9, leaving us one win short of being in the championship game for the first time in our four-year history. Our four Huntsman wins and two losses record gave us bronze medals, thus completing our collection of all the Olympic color medals. Luckily, the wives stayed with us even after our not finishing first or second.
Even though the Huntsman didn't end liked we had hoped, we were reminded by our coaching staff that we were really an Over-65 team playing Over-60 Major+ teams in the tournament. A 9-2 record for the two tournaments isn't bad when you consider we had a championship and a 3rd place finish.
So, that last game brought to an end the Rox 60+ team. I can’t wait to see the guys back in Arizona in January when we will again be the youth of the division, that division being “65-and-Older.”
Losing so early made it easy for us to join Jim and Carol Erickson and Bruce and Ginger McLean for that evening’s performance of “The Wizard of Oz” at the marvelous outdoor venue, The Tuacahn Theater. This place is truly amazing, set right into a natural amphitheater of 200’ high red rock cliffs. The Tuacahn always puts on a spectacular performance, and this night was no different.
The flying monkeys were just as scary as I remember them being when I first saw them at the Suburban World Theatre in Minneapolis in the 50’s. And the costuming and voices of Dorothy, the Tin Woodsman, the Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion were all just excellent. By the time the Wicked Witch melted, I had forgotten all about our stunning loss earlier in the day. Of course, that may have something to do with my age.
Friday, after seven straight days of playing softball (11 games in that time span), we were due a little R&B. We managed to get out just long enough for me to get my walk in. We followed a lovely path high above and with a great view of downtown St. George.
When we got back to AB1 (here’s a reminder that AB1 stands for “Air Barty One,” the name of our RV so christened for Diedre’s mom, Barty, who inspired us to go ahead and adopt the RV lifestyle. It just so happened that Barty would have been 96 years young on this day), there was an e-mail for us from Rox general manager Jimmy Erickson. Trying to keep our spirits up, he reminded us that the 60+ Rox record for four years ended at 126-41; that would have been easily good enough to win both the American and National League pennants this year.
OK, it’s Saturday. Since all of the rest of the team is gone, and DK is off getting her nails done, I decided to do something at the games I had never done before: I decided to see some other events in the two-week long senior games.
My first stop was at the Southern Utah Shooting Sports Park. There I would witness for the first time, “Cowboy Action Shooting” (CAS). It was a lot of fun.
This would be the 12th year CAS was a part of the Huntsman Games. In this event, 103 men and women 65-69 years old would dress up in cowboy outfits for the shoot-off. Using old west monikers such as “Slue Foot Sue” and “Botch Cassidy,” the contestants competed mano-e-mano in an event which required them to use not one, not two, but three different kinds of firearms. In the race to knock down 14 total targets, they started with double-barreled shotguns aiming at, four tombstone-like targets with a shotgun reload in the middle. Then, they’d draw their holstered pistols and rapidly gun down five metal bottles on a ledge. After completing this task, they’d then race over to another table, pick up rifles, and shoot four human-silhouetted targets. Finally, after knocking down all 13 targets, they had one last tombstone to knock down. The winner would be the first one to hit this final target, barring penalties of additional time for missed shots.
The whole event was set up in an old western town. I stayed with the match-play format all the medallists were named for men and women in the Over-65 category. I’m sure I’ll be back again next year and plan on dragging along Miss Diedre to join the cow town excitement.
I followed that up by going to see racquetball, a sport I played for years until my untimely heart event. Just watching these old, GOOD players was enough exercise for me. Any thoughts I had of trying to enter this event evaporated when I saw how well they all played.
Before picking up DK at her marathon mani-pedi competition, I went over to the Temple View RV Park and reserved a spot for next year’s Huntsman Games. The place we stayed this year was a bit of a dump, and the RV park we were considering in Hurricane, UT, was very nice but just too far away. So it’s back to Temple View where we stayed in 2013.
Our week in St. George ended quietly enough Saturday night. We had intended to go to different movies together (different movies, same theater complex, similar starting times) because I like science-fiction and DK likes quality acting. So I went to the Marvel Comics production of “Guardians of the Galaxy” while DK thought (“thought” being the operative word here) she would be seeing “The Giver” with Academy Award winners Meryl Streep and Jeff Bridges … only … they gave her the wrong auditorium number. By the time she figured out she was in a 3-D version of my movie (the fact that everybody else in the theatre was wearing 3-D glasses should have tipped her off), it was too late to see her movie. In the end, she was stuck with me watching inane cartoon-based characters save the world. At least I had popcorn, so it wasn’t a total loss for her.
We finished off the evening with a wonderful dinner at a restaurant we had not yet tried during our many stints in St. George. “Cappeletti’s” turned out to be far-and-away the best meal we’ve had in town … if you don’t count my predilection for pizza.
OK, tomorrow we’re off for a week of doing altruistic volunteer work in the town of Kanab, Utah, also known as “Little Hollywood” for its years as the go-to site for making cowboy movies. Tune in to next week’s blog to see how we save the planet … and please, do NOT call us “Guardians of the Galaxy.”
