A Day at the Races

Their slogan is "Where the surf meets the turf---in Del Mar!" The month of August is racing month at the famous track. I remember visiting here as a teenager. My Uncle Jack and Aunt Margaret moved here from Chicago. He had been transferred by the USPS and ended up delivering mail in La Jolla. He was lucky not to have been restationed in Phoenix. We always wondered why Mom and Dad stopped in Phoenix (in August 1956) and didn't keep driving to the coast.

Each summer promised one or two weeks at the beach. My cousin Carol was a year older, so I buddied up with her. Everyday we'd grab our beach gear, head down the hill, cross Highway 1 and then billy-goat our way down the steep bluff to the shore. I tried to learn body surfing and more than once got pounded into the sand by a misjudged wave. A healthy fear of the ocean is still engrained in my psyche . . . pun intended.

Yesterday, Gene and I picked up my son Glen and his girlfriend, Julie, who is visiting him for the weekend. We headed to the race track with Glen humming the "surf meets the turf" tune. He's heard it over and over on the radio. Attendance is way down this year. A day earlier they'd had their lowest attendance in years.

It turned out to be a fun afternoon. Glen had never been to a horse race, and Julie had a perpetual "glad to be out of hellish Phoenix" grin on her face. Gene and I each bet $2 per race for 7 races. Total spent: $28. We had two small wins early and then picked the winners in the final two races. Total winnings: $33. Net gain: $5 and lots of laughs. Pretty cheap entertainment. Maybe next year we'll double our bets.

The RV is parked at Adm. Baker Recreation Area in Mission Valley. We'll be here until Sept. 7 and then move to Fiddler's Cove near Coronado for four nights. On Friday, September 12, we'll head to Phoenix. Hope it's a little cooler by then!

Have Your Cake and Eat It Too!

Having grandkids in an RV can be interesting. After a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, toast and juice, Shawnda bet Riley that he couldn't eat a HUGE piece of cake (left over from the anniversary picnic) in five minutes. If he did, she'd give him $5. I think the money was the big incentive. As he struggled with the final bites, I grabbed my camera. A great photo op! Here are photos of Riley eating the cake and waving his winnings.

Fifth Anniversary Beach Party

The big day finally arrived. We spent the morning running errands . . . picking up the catered food, cake from Costco and a fish balloon. Got to the beach and had help setting everything up. We counted 60 people . . . family, friends and DPYC buddies. Everybody had fun visiting, eating and drinking and enjoying the beautiful day. Some swam in the ocean, a few played bocci ball, but most of us just sat around talking and catching up. Wendy gave the boys some money to rent bikes (see photo of Riley). Dave Booker took the boys out fishing that day and they caught lots of fish!

We sang Happy Birthday to all those with August birthdays, then cut and served the anniversary cake. Dennis and Ellie Knight brought avocados from their grove to share with the crowd. Toward evening, we built a bonfire and, of course, made s'mores.

Thanks to all who came and shared this special day with us. We loved it!!!

Phil's Kayak

Phil bought a kit in December of 2007 to build this beautiful kayak, assembled it in his workroom in Phoenix and had it finished by May. The first launching was his backyard swimming pool, the second, and a wet one, was at Lake Mary. He's had it in the water at Lake Mary about eight times (only tipped twice) and can now comfortably paddle eight miles. A piece of carpet stablizes the boat on the shore while he gets in, then its off he goes to explore the lake, look at nesting osprey and goldfinch feeding on milkweed pods. He says, "they looked like they had a toothpick in their mouth" as they chewed off the seed then spit out the fluff. Who knows where it will take him next.

Nebraska to Arizona

View from the Arizona Welcome Center

Soybeans, silos and corn as far as the eye can see. The scenery heading west out of Nebraska was purely agricultural. I-80 follows the Platte River and passes by attractions that didn't quite pull us off the highway: A Pony Express Station, the Sod House Museum and a ranch once owned by Buffalo Bill Cody, whose Wild West shows once featured sharp shooter Annie Oakley and entertained folks across the country and as far away as England. If it had been spring or autumn, we might have been lured to one of the wildlife refuges to see the sandhill cranes that migrate along the Platte.

The corn began thinning out and getting shorter as we entered Colorado, then was replaced altogether by cattle and open prairie. I couldn't wait to see the Rockies, but was disappointed. As we neared Denver, dark, billowing clouds camouflaged the mountains. The rain never did reach our campground at Cherry Creek State Park, but it did cool the air, and we slept with a quilt that night.

Southern Colorado and Northern New Mexico were green from recent rains. We got lucky and saw a few pronghorn antelope along the way, and luckier still when we reached Albuquerque. Thirty minutes after checking in to the RV park at Kirtland Air Force Base the skies opened up and it poured!

The next morning we were headed west again and soon entered Arizona. We were home! Our first stop was the Arizona Welcome Center where we stocked up on a new map and magazines on the Navajo Nation and other sites. One of these days we'll do some local touring. We arrived in Heber and the Munzinger cabin, were greeted by Joan and Carol and in no time were playing Upwords and Scrabble. Cabin sweet cabin.

Today we are in Flagstaff parked, leveled and plugged in outside of Philand Tricia's house. Phil took his kayak to Lake Mary yesterday. This is the kayak he built from a kit . . . and it is beautiful. He's learned to load and unload it from his SUV by himself, launch it without going overboard and comfortably paddle around the lake. It's his escape from reality vehicle.

We'll be in Flag until Friday morning, then head to Camp Pendleton and the California beach. Looking forward to seeing Glen, Jack and Wendy and friends over the next few weeks.

Norfolk, Nebraska and the Taylor Household

Photo: Gene and daughter Lori Taylor at the Missouri River

We've had a relaxing five days with our RV parked along side the Taylor house in Norfolk, Nebraska. Lori arrived home from India on Saturday after a grueling 51 hour journey from Hyderabad, India, via Dubai, London, Washington, DC and Chicago. Rerouting was required due to Lufthansa being on strike. I don't know where she gets her energy, but she got back on the Nebraska clock like she had never left.

Sunday brought a stream of people through the house . . . mostly teens who look to Dale and Lori for guidance and friendship. The role they have chosen at their church is to mentor young people, thus Lori's trip to India to a school they support and Dale's trip to Mexico and the mission where they spent 20 years. Theirs is a mission of faith in action, they proactively participating in outreach programs positively affecting members of their church community, youth and the poor in other countries.

Yesterday, we had some fun. We hopped in the car and drove northwest to the town of Lynch, Nebraska, population 246. Lynch is the smallest city in America with its own hospital, all privately funded. It's right on the border with South Dakota and MILES from just about everything. Ben Davy's grandmother Beth (Ben is Lori's son-in-law) has lived on a farm here for the past 50+ years. Her closest neighbor is miles away, and at 77 years, she still raises cattle and hay. Even mows her own hay two or three times during the growing season. A few winters ago Beth spent 10 days snowed in without electricity or phone. She kept the pot bellied stove burning, stoked the fire every few hours and hung in there until the electricity came back on. Fifty years of "hanging in there" have prepared her for every eventuality. She's a wonderful woman greatly admired by all of her family and friends.

It was interesting to see the farm and fun birdwatching. As I was looking at cardinals, bluejays, goldfinches and swallows, I heard a strange clucking. The sound turned out to be three turkeys headed for the mulberry tree loaded with plump berries. Took a drive down to the Missouri River where Beth's family go fishing when they visit her. Directly across the river is the Rosebud Indian Reservation and the rolling green hills of South Dakota. We hope we can get back here to visit again one day.