Barcelo Premium

Hola. That and “gracias” were about all I had for my bilingual efforts in a trip I took to Mexico with friends in celebration of our 40 (some 39) years on earth this past week. The location was in the Riviera Maya corridor, just about an hour south of Cancun on the Caribbean Sea. We stayed at the Barcelo Tropical Beach resort, a first class place from top to bottom.

Getting to the resort was quite an interesting experience. I flew down with Rob and Wendy (others flew earlier in the day) and after going through many lines to show passports and declare goods, it was time to find our travel agency’s transportation company. We walked into an area where there must have been 200 Mexican fellas all with a mission to transport any tourist they could find. We stayed focused and found the company we were set up with. The vans used to transport people can normally hold 10 people without a problem but unfortunately we had a 300+ pound guy in attendance with us. Poor Wendy had about a six inch seat area for a portion of the ride. The road from the airport to our resort looked a war zone with beat up shacks throughout. I don’t think anybody has car insurance down there because every car seemed to have some kind of ding on it. They had to put speed bumps at points on the road because folks were driving so crazy. Rob and I did pass the time with an intense game of Slug Bug (see a VW bug, call it out, and slug your friend). Our limited English driver was getting a good chuckle from the game and was even helping us point them out near the end. With the views on this road, I was pretty curious to see what our resort was going to be like. We turned into the resort and it was Utopia once we passed the entrance gate.

At check in, I came upon what I believe could have been my match for life, a Mexican woman working at the front desk named Jitka. Too bad she was taken because she had an aura about her. The accent, smile, and the blue eyes didn’t hurt. We all pretty much spent the first night hooking up with the others and getting acclimated to this extremely large resort.

Day two had a nice mix of beach and pool time. We pulled out the snorkeling gear at the beach and I must say my previous attempts about 20 years ago to breathe through the snorkel tube were not very successful. I was pessimistic at my chances to conquer this activity. After hyperventilating a few times early on and getting some good pointers from the others, the light bulb finally went off on how to do it and I’m happy to report I absolutely love this snorkeling thing. The array of fish colors and the clear water were incredible. The undertow was making me a “frady cat” so I only went out so far. Eric and Rob were the thrill seekers in the deep areas. After chilling on the beach after the snorkeling, the tequila train started to get going a bit. With the resort being all inclusive, it is quite scary the kind of damage you could do there. If I were to go back again, I’d bring a large mug because the resort gives you beer/cocktails/soda pop in roughly six ounce glasses and if you are chilling on the beach or pool, a large container gives you more time to admire the scenery, good and bad. What I mean by good and bad is there were all shapes and sizes putting on the bathing suits. There were some ooh la la sightings and there were some that should have been sent back to their rooms to cover the bogue-ness (not a word) that was spilling from their outfits.

The third day started with a trip to Akumal which is known for its snorkeling areas and we were not let down. The tide was pretty far out there so you could get out pretty deep without worrying about the current taking you out. I started out towards the coral reef areas which had some beautiful fish sightings. Blue fish, yellow fish, purple fish, round fish, sandy fish, and one large fish that scared the dickens out of me because he was all by himself and I figured he was all by himself for a reason. I gave him his space. I ventured a little away from the reef areas and found what we came for, the swimming turtles. LARGE turtles without a care in the world swimming right next to you. One came up for air and I could have sworn Rob could have kissed it if he wanted to. Their heads were about the size of a small football. Right around where the turtles were hanging, a school of fish made an appearance. I’m not talking about 10 or 20 fish. I’m talking about hundreds of 8-9 inch fish clustered together. You could swim right up to this mass of fish and they pretty much just stayed there. Amazing. After snorkeling it was back to the resort for some pool time. Hammock time/Tim time for me. The hammocks had a shade cover above them so you could get a little siesta in, sip a few margaritas, and admire the scenery. Prior to dinner the fellas congregated so we could go over the fishing plan for the next day and also sip some tequila. We bought a bottle of some local tequila from the resort store. The storekeeper said it was a good brand from the few words of his I could understand. It was good tequila. Smooth and no head thumping the next morning. It was so good that our gathering evolved into our version of stupid human tricks (see can balancing pictures). The entire group had dinner together at the Santa Fe steakhouse restaurant within the resort (I had chicken, surprise). The meal was great, as was most of the food at the resort. After dinner, a majority of us went back to one of the rooms to celebrate some more. Laura and Laura got hold of my Playboy and just couldn’t put it down. The silliness really got going when we had about a five minute dialogue where five of us were talking (or attempting to talk) Spanish. Wendy fell off the bed during her giggles. As Greg was saying during this time, Siiiiii!!!!!!

The fourth day didn’t start out too well for me. Al, Eric, Greg, Rob, and I went on a chartered fishing boat at the crack of dawn. I felt good in the morning but once that boat hit some waves, it was all over for me. The all inclusive meals that hadn’t been completed digested were now in the Caribbean Sea and I was a pile of sweat. Each bottled water that went down after that eventually came up some thirty minutes later. I mixed up the outgoing volume a bit with some fruit punch towards the end. Nice. We picked numbers for fishing and Rob was lucky number one with Al number two. I was number three but unfortunately only two fish were hit during the ride. Rob caught a nice Barracuda and Al caught a Mahi-Mahi, the real green fish. I was fine once I stepped back on land and was back on the margarita train in no time and in my hammock loving life. The group had dinner at the Capri Italian restaurant, which again was great. I had a calzone and took some flack for also ordering from the kid’s menu (chicken again). I’m on vacation so too bad!! After some post dinner cocktails (and more tequila), I took a stroll to the auditorium/theatre for a glance at the Miss Barcelo contest. There was no major debauchery to report, just some tourists in bathing suits having to do various stunts with their significant others. I left shortly thereafter so I didn’t see who got the crown. Laura O. and Wendy, however, charged the stage after the contest and were strutting their stuff pretty well from the pictures I saw.

As mentioned, the resort was first class. I’m not sure if the employees liked having all these darn U.S. citizens taking over the place but you wouldn’t know it. They would always pass you with a “hola” reply and a smile. The service was always prompt and courteous. I even put a broken Spanish note in my “all inclusive” refrigerator that I wanted more cervaza (beer) and less soda pop the next time they stocked them. The next time I checked my fridge, it was loaded. Gracias.

The fifth day was travel time and my experience was something very close to the movie, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. I checked in at the airport and the ticket counter person asked if I wanted to avoid having to go through Chicago from Dallas. Who wouldn’t? I was all set, right? Not quite. The flight out of Cancun was about an hour late leaving so I got into Dallas with about 35 minutes until my connecting flight. I also found out during this time that the flight still went through Chicago so the Cancun ticket guy must have been a rookie. In 35 minutes, I had to go through the passport line, the customs line, recheck my bag, and take the Skylink transit system to another terminal. I was hoping for a short passport line but nice try. It moved pretty well but the clock was ticking so it was time to beg for cuts. Then it was a sprint to the bag area so I could claim nothing to the customs people and have my bag rechecked. I found bag number one with no problem but bag number two was nowhere to be seen. Do I leave bag number two? Tick tock, tick tock. After talking to the bag person, I stumbled upon bag number two and the sprint was on to customs and have the bags rechecked. That went smooth and I was feeling pretty confident that I just had to find the transit system to take me to my terminal but little did I know I had to go through the security check again. I begged for cuts again, got through there and sprinted to the transit system. I got to my terminal and took a glance at my flight on the board. The gate had been changed (ahhhh!!!!) but luckily it was in the same terminal. I sprinted to the gate with about two minutes to spare and was incredibly thirsty. There was a bar directly across from the gate so I ordered a cold one, chugged it in about thirty seconds and ran to the gate. What an experience. Thankfully we didn’t change planes in Chicago because I had enough airport exercise for the day. I safely landed in Detroit but only one of my bags made it (I’m happy to report American Airlines called the next morning and had my bag and were delivering it that day). What a day.

That is all mi amigos.

Rastro Cabeza

Lakeshore Park

On yet another beautiful Michigan summer evening, it was off to Lakeshore Park in Novi this past Thursday for the first ride there this year. In attendance with me was none other than the Trig-ster (pictured), who is in training for a mini-triathlon in the fall and wanted to tackle the mountain bike world to see if it was his cup of tea.

The trail, which usually is pretty damp due to the wetland areas and a section of the Rouge River cutting through it, was in great condition due to the recent drought here in Michigan. The MMBA folks added a bunch of nice log piles to climb and there is even one large log balance beam for those daring enough to try it on their bikes. I wasn’t up for any hospital visits so I rode around it. The large crater (pictured) where the BMX dudes usually are hanging out doing their stunts is still there but has a large tree down right in the middle of it. No falls to report and I caught a visual of one deer, one rabbit, one snake, and many chipmunks. A plethora of wildlife out there.

I must say Trig was a trooper in coming out and gritting it out. I think he got a good workout because his shirt pretty much looked like it just came from a swim when he got back to the car. He just has to work a little harder on his liquid pork chop consumption during post ride festivities. He had family time to attend to so I cut him some slack.

That is all for now. I'm off to Mexico with my 40 year old friends (I'm still 39, ha, ha). I hope to have some stories to report when I return.

Trail Head

No-hitter! Wow!

Wow is all I can say in what I saw last night at Comerica Park in Justin Verlander’s no-hitter. A once in a lifetime thing that I’m happy to say I saw in person, along with a pack of age 55+ folks from the Bridgewater community. This event ranks up there with getting a hole in one (not yet), watching Jordan go for 60 (didn’t see), or seeing the Detroit Lions win a Super Bowl. In other words, extremely rare. My leg gets twitching when I get excited/anxious and by the seventh inning, it was moving pretty well. Jennifer asked what was wrong and I shot back with something to the effect of “do you realize what you are seeing here?” I honestly don’t think she knew what she was experiencing.

The great thing about Verlander is he doesn’t mess around in lollygagging on the mound. He’s got things to do and a nice looking girlfriend to boot so he gets on it. I like baseball but sometimes when games go 3+ hours, the attention span wanes a bit. This game was done in a little over two hours.

We all like to rag about Neifi Perez and his sub .200 batting average but he pretty much saved the no hitter last night with his grab up the middle for a double play in the eighth. Cheers to Neifi.

Trail Head

Skegemog Lake '07

It was the Class of ’84 (Son’s of Liberty-SOL) versus the Class of ’85 (Seadogs) looking to take the prize on a beautiful weekend on Skegemog Lake in Williamsburg, Michigan. Our hosts, Judy and Dave Crouse, were more than cordial in putting up and feeding 12 thirsty (and eventually smelly) fishermen. Their septic tank got a pretty good workout.

The SOL group charged out of the gate on Friday evening in what looked to be a replay of last year’s overwhelming victory over the Seadogs. Keith and Mitchell had the SOL’s out with a commanding lead in total fish weight. The Seadogs, however, knew that this was a marathon, not a sprint, and were confident that the “Wacky” style would overcome the leech and were sticking with their game plan. Al, a veteran of the Skegemog Lake terrain, and Greg did a great job in keeping the score within reach for the Seadogs. Poor Roger took a fall (pictured) at the rock shore trying to throw some fish back that had been weighed. He didn’t cry or complain but damn that must have hurt the next day.

The lake was calm on a clear Saturday morning and with groggy mindsets, session two was ready to take shape. I had a nice green fish (I’m not too good at classifying smallmouth/largemouth bass so I just call them green fish) but the hook was pretty deep into its gills. The hook was removed but the fish was on life support. I eventually got docked a pound because the fish didn’t make it at weigh in. The whole weigh in process is a pretty ugly scene after each session. Quite a few cooks in the kitchen trying to see if a stack of fish is 3.5 or 4.9 pounds. The scale sometimes would fluctuate that much based on the fish flops. Al, Greg, and Gus put together some nice numbers, however, and the SOL’s were looking over their shoulders. The Seadogs now trailed by only four pounds.

The afternoon was spent taking a leisure cruise on the Crouse’s beautiful pontoon boat down the Torch River into Torch Lake. Roger was looking to entertain some folks (see pictures) and from what I hear, there is no better stage than the sandbar area on Torch Lake. There had to have been about thirty boats anchored within the sandbar area and I was told there usually is more. The water couldn’t have been any clearer and I must say; there were some nice visuals. We didn’t stay too long, however, to cause much of a stir and it was back to home base for the evening fish.

Saturday evening’s fish was designated as the boat owners picking their co-pilots from names in a hat. Well, at least that was the vision. It seemed like the SOL’s had changed their pairings six or seven times and were even changing minutes before take off. Were they feeling the pressure? I don’t think Jim Leyland would have changed his batting order that many times. It was then that the Munson “Red Rocket” made its presence known. With about an hour left in the session, most of the boats had converged on the boat launch area. The boat launch area in past years had some good production and the leech bomber SOL group were looking to go to the well one more time. A boat hanging in the boat launch area was a sure sign of desperation and there were quite of few of us (including yours truly) in that area. One boat, however, never showed up over there and quietly went about its business on the east end until the session was over, the Red Rocket. Gus and Munson came through for the Seadogs with some nice looking green fish that had girth written all over them. The Seadogs had closed the gap to one pound going into the final session on Sunday morning.

The Red Rocket captain was pretty pumped about his conquest for the team. He was so happy he took his post fish celebration to another level. Once Keith pulled out his acoustic guitar around the fire ring, out came Jim and his drumsticks. He was keeping up with the beat pretty well but the neighbors weren’t big fans of the smoker lid being used as a drum (and the fact it was one in the morning). Jim was on cloud nine. His boat was running good and he was pulling in some good fish. His utopia would end the next day, however. More on that in a minute.

You couldn’t blame Mother Nature on the Sunday morning session. Clear skies and calm water were throughout. Greg had pulled in a couple of nice green fish in the first hour and we thought we were on our way with me pulling in a couple of rock bass to add. The run was short lived and things dried up pretty fast. Greg took a run to the entrance area of the Torch River with hopes that it might bring some better luck. I threw my watermelon wacky worm out towards where a gar pike had stuck its ugly nose up. About five seconds later, I had a nice green fish with some girth to boot. It was off to the weigh in with hopes that our teammates pulled in similar numbers. It turns out that we had most fish that session and the Seadogs took the weekend Cup by three pounds. The SOL’s, possibly desperate that their reign was ending, even tried to slip in some illegal (too small) fish but were denied on that attempt. The final results:

Team-Seadogs
Biggest Fish-Keith
Most Total Pounds-Greg
Golf Outing-Keith/Tom

After the final weigh in and confirmation that the Seadogs were world champs, it was time to pull the boats out of the water and get ready for the trek back home. Munson advised Eric to take his van to the boat launch and off he went with his boat towards the launch. Eric comes back to the house a few minutes later, no keys. NO KEYS! The search began. With the number of people we had at the Crouse residence, you would think one of us would be able to stumble upon the keys somewhere. It was not to be. The locksmith couldn’t make it until Monday so it was decision time for Jim. The van was left there and Al was gracious enough to drive us home. Bummer for Jim.

The keys aside, the whole weekend was a great time. We will trash talk our victory to the SOL’s for the next 12 months but the great thing about this outing, you won’t find any “a-holes” in either group. Just some damn good people.

Trail Head

Sometimes We Fall

After getting chewed out by my girlfriend Saturday morning for going to see a movie Friday night while she had to work, I had to get away to the peace and tranquility of the riding trails. I’m sorry she had to work but should I have to suffer and be bored while she works?

It was the first ride of the year at Maybury and it was a muggy one. The trail was in great condition with riders, joggers, and horseback riders at a minimum. I was in the middle of the second go round on the loop when a tree root grabbed my front tire and off I went over the handlebars. No broken bones to report but I did manage to draw blood and have some nice post ride bruises to this day (WAAAA!!!!!). At least I didn’t have to make my annual (sometimes biannual) trip to the outpatient emergency room. Whether it’s walking into baseball bats (thanks Dan), chain saws gone bad, or riding a bicycle down a ski hill (that was fun), I somehow seem to gravitate to the stitching area every so often. After collecting my breath, I was ready to finish the loop but my bike said nice try. The front tire was bent pretty good. I managed to whack the tire on a rock and get it to a point where I could ride it back to the parking lot with the front brake cable unhooked. I took the tire into D&D Bicycles in Northville expecting to leave it there and pick it up later in the week but they were nice enough to fix it on the spot. Kudos to D&D for the service.

After watching the Pistons cave on Saturday night (don’t get me going on that), it was off to fishing land Sunday morning on Dunham Lake, the jewel of Oakland/Livingston County. Dan, Gordie, Greg, Gus, Hardcore, Jim, and I were ready to seek out the monster fish that usually comes about once or twice a year on the lake. Don’t get me wrong, there usually are plenty of fish in the lake and about half of the group on Sunday hit double digits but the BIG green fish is quite elusive out there. I am hoping we get close to these numbers this upcoming weekend on Skegemog Lake up north. I’ll summarize those results next week. Have a great day.

Trail Head

No Wind

On a calm, balmy evening, Gus, Jim, and I rode Island Lake this past Thursday. While I had rode Island Lake last week, I didn’t mind in that Eric and Jim weren’t able to make it then. When I say it was a calm evening, it was CALM. There was absolutely no wind. There was not a tree leaf to be seen that was making any movement. It would have been a nice evening to throw a “jitterbug” lure in the water and watch a big green fish snag it. While I thought we were going at a pretty good pace, we got passed by a hand full of riders. We’re just not as hardcore as we once were, which is okay.

Jim took off wheeling towards the Kensington area. For some reason, Jim has a penchant for coming up upon couples making whoopee in the weeds (he doesn’t seek it out, there are just some frisky folks out there). Attached is a shot of Jim with his Bubba teeth in. Nice.

Post ride was spent discussing fishing and reproduction. The fishing talk was all about the big Skegemog Lake fishing tournament next weekend at Dave and Judy Crouse’s residence in Williamsburg, Michigan. While I have only been part of the tournament for the last couple of years, it has been going on for about a decade and has evolved quite a bit each year. It used to be more of an individual type tournament but is now the Class of ’84 versus the Class of ’85. The ’85 team is poised for some good production this year in that we basically had our jocks handed to us last year. The fact that I was the biggest producer for our team last year says it all. In addition, Brian Diskin and Jim Champion led the ’84 team in production so anything can happen on this large, crazy lake in NW Michigan. Let the trash talking begin. I’m looking forward to it.

From the park, I had to grab a bite and also check out the Pistons’ game. A trip to Famous Dave’s in Novi was in order. If you are looking for a great meal with some big portions, Dave’s is your place. I had the Chicken (surprise) and Ribs combo and boy was it a good meal. I left there at halftime with the Pistons looking in good shape but little did I know that Lebron James would eventually wake up in the fourth quarter. Damn that guy was in the zone. I know the papers will all say this and that about the Pistons failing but other than tackle the guy, there is nothing anybody could have done to stop Lebron. Kudos to Chauncey for making the free throws to send it into the second overtime. Those were some pressure shots. Saturday should be interesting.

That is all for now. Pontiac Lake is on the schedule for next Thursday. Ride on and fish on.

Trail Head