Field
Notes - Dispatch 19 – The Desert Oasis, California
Thursday,
February 26, 2015
Greetings
Fellow Adventurers!
Just
an update to let you know we are surviving the harsh conditions of
the California desert as best we can. The sand, sun, heat, and
snakes require that we each carry three canteens and our trusty
pistols at all times. I carry iced G&T in my canteens and share
with the snakes. How I do miss the crisp air of the Idaho ski runs
and rooster tails of snow behind my skis as I shoosh down the slopes.
You are so lucky not to be down here under this sky of perpetual
sun.
My
life as a pickle ball athlete continues. Last week I fell, sprained
my ankle, and four 80+ players had to pick me up and carry me to the
bench. I was in such pain I thought a medevac chopper would be in
order, but instead I just rested a few minutes and biked home on my
sports injury. MR was less than sympathetic, as usual, and I spent a
couple of days hobbling around whimpering like a puppy. MR told me
to buck up and so did the neighbors who I thought might give me
cookies to get me through that tough time, but for some reason they
chose not to.
Today
I went and played again, because I’m no quitter, and I met some
more wonderful people. I was playing singles against a very tiny
oriental lady named Ampie. I found her name was very appropriate
because she was amped up, moved as fast as an electron through
copper, and almost did me in with her high speed forehand. Of
course, I was exhausted and felt like a wet towel by the time I had
lost the game. As I stood at the net panting like a dog she causally
stated, while doing push ups, that she just plays P-Ball for
exercise on the days she is not playing tennis! I told her that I
just play for revenge and she had better watch out! Strangely, she
did not seem very frightened and just chuckled while shaking her head
with what looked like pity in her eyes. Did I mention that she must
be at least 85?
Many
of these players will not see see their 88th birthday again yet move
with the speed of cats and are as wily as coyotes. Their favorite
shot is a forehand that launches the hard plastic ball at my nose
with the same velocity as the comet that hit the earth and wiped out
the dinosaurs. The ball impacting my snout has about the same effect
as that comet and several times I have felt myself to be on the cusp
of extinction. When hit I aways scream like I have been shot and hop
around on one foot or the other for about five minutes with my hands
covering my face. My court mates seem to find this very amusing and
often congratulate me on my balance and the breadth of my cowboy
vocabulary. I am developing a reputation at the courts of being a
poor player, a poor sportsman, and very clumsy. But I have not given
up!
The
worst blow came the other morning I was enjoying my breakfast of
coffee and assorted pastries on the patio with MR when I mentioned
that I might like to go watch the polo on Sunday. I told her that I
thought I could be a pretty good polo player if I lost a few pounds.
She quickly replied that if I lost a few pounds I could be the horse.
Now I don’t want to go to see the polo anymore.
I
hope you are all doing well, or at least better than I am. I am sure
yo
u are beginning to sense spring on the horizon and that gives us
all something to look forward to. Be sure to drop us a line, if you
have time, and let us know what adventures you are having.
Over
and out for now.
