Hot Golf, Cool Baseball, Green Dreams

My mom's parched backyard

Only a few days remaining in our stateside travels before a most welcome return to Costa Rica. It’s amazing just how good the “green season” sounds, even with its promise of thunderstorms, after a couple of weeks of West Texas weather: bone dry, boiling hot days of 100+ temperatures and long, slow-roasting evenings in the 90’s. How do people live here, I ask myself over and over. In fact, I’ve asked a few residents and no one seems to have an answer. They get a silly grin on their faces, roll their eyes and shrug their shoulders.

        

But live here they do and incredibly, they even go outside during the day and survive -- grocery shopping, going to work, visiting the library, running errands. They even play golf!

         

Goodwill golf clubs

Which leads me to my topic for the day, my new golf clubs. Layne and I had transported our good clubs and bigheaded drivers from California to Portland last summer, thinking that with all the family golf players in Oregon, we’d probably get the most use out of them there. Climate change has made us re-think that notion since during most of our June visit this year, the weather was rainy and chilly -- not exactly my idea of good golf weather. We had a few nice days and managed to make the most of them with nine holes at King City one day and eighteen at Tri Mountain another. But we also had in mind putting together a set of clubs for use here in Texas so we could play when visiting my mom and perhaps even transporting some down to Costa Rica as well.

         

Since I’m not a terribly serious or skilled golfer, it had occurred to me that I might find an inexpensive set of clubs here in Texas on Craigslist. Indeed, there were some offered but none that fit the bill. I needed women’s clubs and didn’t want to spend much. But I never expected to find the clubs I needed at Goodwill.

         

Mother and I had gone to an enormous thrift store in town, Christians in Action. They had huge racks of clubs, organized only by size -- all 4 irons, 5 irons, etc. jammed together on stacked wooden frames. To figure out which were women’s clubs was a gargantuan project. Although the clubs were bargain-priced at $2.39 each, I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of clubs and the undertaking I faced in finding what I wanted from the hundreds there.

         

So-called "fairway" on the 5th hole

So on we went to Goodwill to see what they might have. What a surprise to find only a small number of clubs, easy to sort through, standing in a large open box. I quickly noticed “First Lady” on an iron and realized it was a woman’s club. It looked in pretty good shape so I continued looking through the selection and found the entire set was there, from the driver to 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 irons and a wedge -- all of the same brand, all in darned good condition. The price? Wait for it… 99 cents each! And if that wasn’t bonanza enough, I also found a nice bag, in better condition than my own, for $2.98. I got the whole set for about $12.

         

That’s the good news. The bad news was the condition of the municipal course I played on. Fairway? What fairway? Oh, you mean that dried out corridor with scraggly grass here and there and hard dirt everywhere else? Given the desperate drought conditions hereabouts, however, one could expect nothing else. So I’ve played twice now, early in the morning to avoid the heat, making the best of the course conditions and finding myself quite satisfied with my new irons. The driver leaves much to be desired but that may just be “operator error.”

         

It seems the secret to survival in this weather is to find something fun to do inside an air-conditioned building. To that end, Mother and I jumped in her air-conditioned car and drove a few blocks over to the air-conditioned Quartermaster Building at Fort Concho where a fascinating exhibit is on display depicting the history of women in baseball. Linedrives and Lipstick: The Untold Story of Women’s Baseball dispels the myth of women’s baseball as only a brief phenomenon of the 1940’s when the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League was in its heyday, later celebrated in the movie, “A League of Their Own,” starring Tom Hanks, Madonna and Geena Davis. Through photos, original posters, framed postcards, game programs and magazine articles, the exhibit reveals the birth of women’s ball in the mid-1800’s through the onset of the sport at women’s colleges, such as Vassar in 1866 and Smith College in 1879, and on to the present day crop of outstanding athletes swinging bats and hurling balls. Organized by Mid-America Arts Alliance, which takes their exhibitions into just 100 small and medium-sized communities each year, the exhibit in San Angelo is the only stop for the show in Texas. If Linedrives and Lipstick comes to your area, don’t miss it. It was well worth going out in the heat.

         

Now it’s on to Costa Rica and the luscious tropical weather I love. Pura Vida, here we come! 

Cute Dogs, Good Golf and a Dramatic Veterans Memorial

Sergeant Preston

Packing… again. Ugh. Tomorrow I return to Texas to see my mom for a couple of weeks before our Fourth of July flight back to Costa Rica. Layne is staying here in Portland for those two weeks, at least. His sister Annie has suffered a couple of health issues of late, prompting Layne to consider the possibility of remaining here a bit longer to help her and her husband Jim -- as much in caring for their beloved little Bishon Frise, Sergeant Preston, as anything else. Tough duty. 

Knowing Layne, he will still find time for golf. We enjoyed a beautiful day on the greens recently with our nephew Jeff and his wife Lori at Tri Mountain Golf Club in Ridgefield, Washington. The name of the course is derived from spectacular views of three volcanic mountains on the horizon, including the infamous Mount St. Helens, which in May of 1980 experienced a catastrophic eruption, which literally blew the top of the peak into the stratosphere. Now, instead of its previously rounded dome, the mountain is flattened out in a poignant reminder of that deadly explosion.

Mount St. Helens from the 16th hole

Layne in the bunker

Personally, I can hardly wait to return to Costa Rica and the great weather, good friends and relaxed life we enjoy there. We have certainly enjoyed some happy times in our travels here in the States but the stresses of packing, unpacking, searching for lost clothes, books, glasses, sleeping on couches or floors, the expense of renting cars and eating out, all combine to add a film of fatigue to daily activities. It will be something of a relief to be back in my own comfortable bed, cooking in my own kitchen, eating mango and papaya and keeping an eye out for monkeys in the trees. Oh, and reading. Lots of reading, thanks to that wonderful free lending library at Kay’s Gringo Café in Atenas.

Washington County Library

But my reading habits will be changing now that I have purchased a Nook. Barnes & Noble just came out with a less expensive version of their high-end color Nook, and it seems perfect for my needs. Already I have downloaded a dozen or more free books from the BN.com website and I’m pretty wowed by the ease of use of this thing. With the new “e-ink” technology instead of a backlit LCD display, the screen will be easily visible for reading outdoors by the swimming pool. And unlike Amazon’s Kindle, the Nook reads text in the formats used by most libraries, offering me an almost unlimited collection of the world’s literature from which to choose. Along with my old Placer County, California, library card, I now have a Washington County, Oregon, card and hope to get a Tom Green County, Texas, card while I’m visiting my mom.

With all those literary options, it may be difficult to find time for travel writing but it won’t be for lack of subjects. On this trip alone, we have encountered some fascinating travel destinations, including a haunting veterans’ memorial just outside of Weed in Northern California, that’s worth a mention here. At the suggestion of our friends Penny and Joel (see my last post of our visit), we kept an eye out for the roadside sign they had described as we left their ranch in Central Oregon heading for California last week. Fortunately, they had pinpointed the location well or we might have easily missed the unobtrusive signboard.

Hot LZ Memorial Wall (photo from website)

The Veterans Living Memorial Sculpture Garden, located on 136 acres of forest in Siskiyou County, is a stunning collection of eleven huge metal sculptures by artist and veteran Dennis Smith. Used as a gathering place to honor veterans on Memorial Day and Veterans Day when names are added to an impressive granite wall, the garden labyrinth memorializes different aspects of warfare, including prisoners of war or missing in action, nurses, peaceful warriors, the wounded and coming home. One large piece set in the center of the maze asks the eternal question: Why?

The Nurses

Coming Home

Why?

Soaring ten to twelve feet in height and silhouetted against nature’s background of trees and mountains, the sculptures dominate the landscape. Traversing by foot or car along gravel trails from one circular venue to the next, the scenes are unsettling in their dramatic impact. It is a moving and memorable tribute to those who have fought our nation’s battles. If you ever drive along Highway 97 from Weed, don’t miss it.  

Our Cups Runneth Over!

If good friends are one of the great treasures of life, then Layne and I have been showered with riches in the last few days. After renting a gas-efficient Chevy Cruze last week and heading across the Cascade Mountains, we have had the good fortune of spending one night, including a mouth-watering home-cooked dinner, with our friends Sue and Christine in Crooked River Ranch, then breakfast with a beloved niece Cari and her two children, Jordan and Phylicia, followed by two uproarious nights with our long-time pals Penny & Joel at their beautiful ranch in Central Oregon. To top it off, we spent a wonderful evening on Sunday with other dear friends, Penny’s sister Ruth and her Sardinian sweetheart Antonio. Our cups runneth over, literally and figuratively!

        

Heading down out of the mountains towards Sisters, Oregon, last Wednesday we stopped off at the Museum at Warm Springs, a multi-media exhibit honoring, preserving and sharing the cultural and artistic heritage of the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs, including the Wasco, the Walla Walla (or Warm Springs) and the Paiute Indian tribes. The excellent dioramas and photographs, historical collections and archives, taped narratives by Warm Springs elders and poignant descriptions of the relentless devastating changes endured by these native peoples bring to life in a heart-wrenching chronicle the difficult and tragic period of Native American history that followed the intrusion of white settlers into the West.

Warm Springs Tule mat summer home, 1800

By the mid-1800’s, thousands of pioneers were crossing Oregon Indian lands, radically altering traditional ways of life for the Indians. In 1855, the U.S. government negotiated a series of treaties which established the Warm Springs Reservation, appropriating some ten million acres of land from the tribes while giving them the territory along the Deschutes River and granting them the rights to fish, hunt for game and other foods in their accustomed places. Federal policies were aimed at forcing the Indians to assimilate and to adopt what was essentially an alien culture, giving up their traditional languages and practices and adopting a foreign infrastructure of religion, schools, sawmills, agriculture and such. Only after Congress passed the Indian Reorganization Act in 1934 were these three tribes able to enter a period of self-government as a consolidated unit on the Warm Springs reservation. If you are ever in the area, this museum is worth a visit.

Layne, Jordan, Cari and Phylicia

After coffee and quiche with Cari and the kids on Thursday, we arrived at Penny & Joel’s in time for the first of several fabulous - make that splendiferous!! - meals by that gourmand Penny. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of indulging in some white wine as we whiled away the afternoon visiting on the patio, then moved on to gin and tonic for the cocktail hour. By the time our incredible pork roast dinner with the fabulous cherry salsa was served, along with still more wine, we were all a little over the top. But a good time was had by all, as they say.

The next day, a little fuzzy from the previous evening’s festivities, we were off to a slow start but Penny’s spectacular broccoli and mushroom egg cupcakes were a good energizer. With our vigor restored, we headed into Bend for an afternoon wandering the shops, trying on hats, judging jewelry and art and enjoying a lazy lunch at Toomies Thai Cuisine. (Penny recommends #8, the spicy chicken dish with basil. I agree.) We ended up beside beautiful Drake Park and Mirror Lake, in the middle of town and close to the historic shopping district where several buildings remain intact from the town’s early-1900’s founding.

View from Penny & Joel's ranch

That night, following another sensational dinner of grilled flank steak, tomato and onion plus a wildly complex broccoli salad, Layne and I had the honor of initiating Penny and Joel’s new rustic fire pit, a foot-high metal ring featuring sculpted galloping horses. Through their silhouettes, the blaze is exposed in dramatic fiery profile. To properly anoint the new ring, of course, required a photographic record of the toast, for which Penny and Layne were happy to pose. “Be sure and get the red color of the wine,” Penny advised, as she helped direct the shot.

Penny's grilled flank steak and veggies... Wow!

It was sad to see the evening come to an end, knowing it was our last visit together for perhaps a year. Such a lovely holiday with such good friends.

And finally, after a rushed day of sorting through dozens of boxes and storage containers in our barn, Layne and I relaxed with Ruth and Antonio in Auburn over a tasty vegetarian Papa Murphy’s pizza. I must have been too tired to take photos but, trust me, we had a fine time!

Thanks to everyone who has hosted us on this trip, attended a party or just wished us well! 

Party Time in Portland!

It was an entertainment edifice unlike any I’d ever seen. We basically had a four-lane bowling alley all to ourselves. The unusual facility was called Players and was located just a block away from the excellent Tigard West Motel 6 where Layne’s and my children were staying this past weekend. The family group included my son Damian, his vivacious friend Santina and her adorable baby girl Zaya, plus my lovable 13-year-old grandson Kai and their dog Achilles; then there was Layne’s son Jess and his family, amazing wife April, beautiful Sierra and precocious 10-year-old Orion.

Sierra and April 

Damian had discovered the place and found that it included a large video game arcade, shuffleboard, billiards, food, drink and the bowling alleys, all under one roof.  After a big extended family afternoon party at Layne’s sister Annie’s house on Saturday, Damian and Kai had wanted to check out Players and perhaps bowl awhile. Soon Jess and April joined them and when Layne and I arrived, the post-party party was in full swing - literally, as everyone took their turn swinging, rolling, throwing or guttering their balls down the lane. The younger kids, of course, found the game a challenge so when Kai stepped up for his turn and knocked down eight balls, leaving a split, he groaned in dismay at the odds of getting the spare. But he lined up carefully, made his approach and threw the ball, slicing the edge of the left pin just enough to flick it over and knock down the other one. A perfect spare! An even more unlikely occurrence came when Santina urged me to take her turn, just to see how I could do. So discarding my wedge heels in favor of bare feet, I picked up a couple of balls until I found a nice red one I thought I could handle. Now mind you, the only bowling I’ve done in some 30 years has been on our Wii game so it’s not like I expected to help Santina’s score much. But in a moment of Zen I threw the ball, and as we all watched with mouths agape, that red ball rolled straight and true and slid into the pocket for a strike! Nothing short of a miracle.

Grandma Kat & Kai - photo by Kai

Both our kid’s families are gone now, Damian and Kai headed back to San Francisco, Jess and April already back in Spokane, Santina and Zaya on a plane today going home to Spokane as well. But I’m sure all would agree that it was a fantastic weekend.

After Layne and I flew in late Wednesday night, the fun began on Thursday when he and I and Damian and Kai went out in a drizzling rain to play a round of golf at the nearby King City course. But by the sixth hole, Kai and I had had enough of such cold, wet “fun” so we headed back to the hotel to dry out and dog-sit Achilles. Meanwhile, hardcore golfers Layne and Damian continued on for the full 18 holes, preparing themselves for the more difficult course facing them on Friday.

Zaya graces us all with her smile

On Friday with Damian and Layne out on the golf course with Layne’s brother Ray, Kai and I spent the morning together, walking Achilles, playing video games (well, I watched) and having a leisurely breakfast -- from a grandma’s point of view, the perfect way to spend time! The golfers eventually returned, Ray having won as usual, and Damian headed to the airport to collect Santina and Zaya. That evening, we all went out for some excellent Thai food at Pacific Breeze near Annie’s house. Precious little Zaya kept us well entertained, bestowing her sweet smile on us from her purple throne perched up on the table. With the arrival of Jess and April and their children by car later that evening, the family flock was complete. We were up late that night drinking wine, laughing, talking and strumming a clever “backpacker” guitar Jess had brought along and gave to his dad.

Layne and his new guitar

But the highlight of the weekend had to be the Saturday afternoon gathering of the clan and long-time friends from all over the Portland area. From the youngest, Troy and Julie’s energetic twins Berik and Bowen, to the family matriarch Hazel, who proudly claims to be “98 and feeling great!” -- the backyard was brimming over with laughter and chatter, footballs and water pistols, good food and good cheer.

Friends & family:  Photo by Santina - thanks, Santina!

 Even the weather cooperated with a picture-perfect blue sky and a nice breeze. Layne and I got credit for bringing the good Costa Rican weather with us but perhaps the honor really belongs to the simple magic of a loving family. Pura Vida to all!!

Mango Manna from Heaven

Well, it’s time to travel again. We’re off to the USA tomorrow morning for visits with my mother in Texas, Layne’s sister and family in Oregon, his son and family from Washington State and my son and grandson from California. We may even make it down to our place in Pilot Hill to check out our house, see what needs painting or repair and get “stuff” from the barn. It promises to be a fun-filled but busy six weeks or so.

Juan Santamaria Airport

We’ll head out early in the morning to catch the 7:00 a.m. bus to Juan Santamaria Airport, a 40-minute ride that will cost us about $1.50 each. Our 9:30 a.m. flight on American Airlines will deliver us into San Angelo, Texas, at 5:40 p.m., a good schedule but pricey tickets. Travel to the States is no longer the bargain it was only a year ago, but family calls so we find a way to make the trip.

Of course, it’s hard to think of leaving Costa Rica, even though we are heading into the rainy season, or as Casey Bahr, another Costa Rican blogger calls it, “The Emerald Season.” Having now gone through two dry seasons here, we can definitely appreciate the "green" season a little more as instead of dry patches, the grasses are now abundant, the flowers are blooming, the trees have filled out with shiny leaves. Everything is… well, vibrant green again.

Mangos ripe for the picking

And boy, are the fruits coming into season. Everywhere we walk, it seems, we pass under mango trees, branches literally drooping with ripe fruit. We hurry to get out from under them for fear a mango may take that moment to fall, and a grapefruit-sized mango hitting you on the head would not be good! Piles of ripened mangos and other fruits unfamiliar to us litter the ground, free for the taking. Wild cilantro grows like a weed and tall yucca plants produce edible underground roots. Our neighbor’s orchard is flush with limons (lemons), limes and mandarinas (mandarin-like oranges). Coconut palms are heavy with their crop. It is our considered opinion that no one should ever starve to death in Costa Rica. Just grab some produce off a tree!

Flowers grow year-round here but they seem of even richer color now with purple bougainvillea, crimson and yellow helaconia, red hibiscus, glorious buds of pink and orange and the lovely yellow flowers that line our driveway all in blossom.

The dump truck gets a tug from the backhoe!

When we return in early July, it will be interesting to see what changes have been made in our local surroundings as some major bulldozing and grading work has been happening on the slope below our front patio. Our landlords have put in a switchback road leading to a bridge across the creek and up the other hillside where their property continues. Our landlady Odie wants a little gazebo or picnic area up there so this landscaping is the first step toward that goal. It is a rather steep slope so watching the big backhoe do its work then the heavy truck with its load of gravel tear up and down the hill has been a little heart-stopping now and then. Let’s just say these heavy equipment workers drive about like Ticos on the roads! At one point, the truck tried to back up the newly graveled slope but when the tires started slipping and churning up the gravel, the backhoe operator had to fasten a chain on to the truck and haul it back up the hill.

I just hope all the noise and human activity doesn’t scare away the monkeys from visiting now and then. Recently, this little guy showed up in a tree in our backyard, apparently all alone, perhaps a young male that’s been shoved out of the troop by some jealous macho monkey. Such is life in the jungle!

Bamboozled in the Jungle!

After spending a couple of hours earlier this week sawing down huge bamboo stalks in the jungle with no ill effects, this morning I pull a muscle in my back making up the bed! Go figure. But with Layne’s devoted care - ice and ibuprofen - I am recovered enough to sit here at the computer and bring my faithful readers up to date on our latest adventure: bamboo harvesting! Through one of the Costa Rica online groups, I had seen a call for volunteers to help in cutting bamboo on Finca Amanecer in the tiny pueblo of Londres a few miles outside of Quepos, a beach town on the Pacific Coast. The vision and dream of Elena Ross, Finca Amanecer is part of the Intentional Conscious Communities of Costa Rica or ICCCR. ICCCR bills itself as a “work in progress,” established to create “our own online, open-source directory, Costa Rica specific, that seeks to educate (inform and empower), promote and market, match conscious investors and stewards with progressive communities, and most importantly, protect Costa Rica’s natural resources and its people from being bought out by BIG developers. The ICCCR seeks to enable ‘conscious people’ and their communities in making their eco-sustainable programs, permaculture and green communities, eco-tours and holistic communities, centers, and small businesses economically sustainable.”

Quite an ambitious goal, needless to say, but one that appeals to Layne and me with our belief in organic foods, sustainable agricultural practices, humane and free-range animal husbandry and pro-active efforts to preserve and protect the environment. And since we’re always on the lookout for another adventure that will introduce us to new people, places and projects, we decided to volunteer. After a pleasant phone call with Elena, being sure to forewarn her that our senior status meant a measured approach to chopping down bamboo, we made a plan to join her and other volunteers for a morning of harvesting and a couple of nights of socializing and good food.

Elena is a vivacious and creative woman who has lived in Costa Rica some twenty years and who claims that in the late 1990’s, she had what she calls “a Noah experience” -- referring to Bill Cosby’s comic bit where “God” calls down to Noah, saying “Noah, this is God! Go build an ark!” In Elena’s case, the heavenly voice that spoke to her declared, “You are supposed to manifest an intentional community.” Since 2002, when she bought her beautiful seven or so acres, absolutely bursting with bamboo forest, she has been working to do just that. Her vision includes a “longevity center” helping residents to “live younger, longer,” sharing a community van, building housing from the property’s bamboo, an apartment complex with a library, pool, gym, art studio and much more. Currently, she runs a bed-and-breakfast eco-lodge from January to April then works on developing the property in the “green season” months.

Which is where we came in. With all the gorgeous, gigantic bamboo available on her land, Elena had hoped that with some volunteer laborers who would benefit from the educational experience, she could harvest and cure a supply of bamboo with which to build experimental housing later this year.

Rio Naranjo

The Londres Bridge

So on Monday, we hopped on the early bus to San Jose in order to catch a “directo” bus to Quepos, where Elena had said we could get a bus to Londres, which would drop us off right at her driveway. All we needed to bring were beach clothes and a saw, which we borrowed from our landlord. Aided by the excellent directions on her website, all went according to plan, even the “shake, rattle and roll” of the Londres bus -- definitely not the comfortable modern buses we are used to here in Atenas. But as we approached the final bridge across the Rio Naranjo, the bus stopped and all the passengers began to disembark. We sat there, looking befuddled. The kind bus driver tried hard to explain to us, the only Gringos onboard, that we needed to get off, but then as we finally picked up our bags to exit, he shook his head no, indicating we should leave our bags on the bus. Finally, we remembered that Elena had warned us we might have to get off the bus and walk across the bridge due to worries about its safety after suffering damage last fall from the heavy rains of Hurricane Tomas. Smiling sheepishly at the patient Ticos when we arrived on the other side of the bridge, we re-boarded and were soon at the entrance to Finca Amanecer.

Nancy says Hasta Luego to Sashi

We had half-expected to meet up with Elena on the bus trip from Quepos where she said she would be buying more saws but it was a half hour after we arrived at the lodge when Elena drove up with Nancy, an old friend she’d happened upon in town. Nancy was facing some personal difficulties, which forced her to find a home for her beloved dog Sashi, and lucky for her, Elena had agreed to keep the pup for a month or so while Nancy went to the States to work out her problems.

Rich, Layne and Gabriel on the patio

What Nancy needed right then, Elena declared, was a margarita, which sounded good to us as well. We were soon joined by two more volunteers, Rich, another retired Gringo who arrived on his motorcycle, and Gabriel, a charming 22-year-old Tico, who turned out to be invaluable on the project, putting in much longer hours and more muscle power than any of the rest of us.

The Crew

Tuesday morning, in spite of a too-festive evening of beer and margaritas, nachos and salsa, we headed down the trail, saws in hand, muck boots on to protect against snakes (yikes!) and gloves and other heavy-duty “finca clothes” provided by Elena. Of course, Layne and I were working with our dull and rusty borrowed saw, which proved to be our undoing. After thirty or forty minutes of backbreaking work, hardly making a dent in the massive bamboo shaft, we changed to one of Elena’s new saws and lo and behold -- we were cutting bamboo!

Ready to Go! 

Layne hard at work

Kat hard at work

Now these things are tall, perhaps 70 feet or so, and very heavy so it was hard work and somewhat dangerous as well. Elena managed to brace our cuts by tying our target trunk to another standing bamboo but even then, it was dicey business. After a couple of hours Layne and I had managed to sever two stalks, each about ten inches in diameter. Our fellow workers managed more like three or four with their sharper tools, but since each bamboo stalk should yield eight or ten sections of “lumber,” Elena has a good start on her construction project.

Layne and I learned a bit about bamboo and still more about our stamina for such physical labor. Elena learned something as well. Next time, she says, she will hire a crew of knowledgeable Ticos and let the volunteers learn more by watching. Sounds like a good idea to us. As grand as her vision is, the dream is a long way from realization, but as Elena says, “Believe in miracles!” We do - we consider it a miracle that we survived our bamboo adventure!