Wednesday, 22 July 2015: More golf
Written 22 July 2015
This morning, I was up first as usual. I polished off the last of the tetrazini, the last of the roasted vegetables, and a couple of eggs for breakfast. The closer our departure date comes, the more carefully I have to think about the Tetris-like process of (a) making enough food that we don't run short and (b) having as little as possible left over at the end.
We had the 9:04 tee time at the 18-hole course. At the left is an elk hoofprint on the 6th green, a couple of days old by the time I took the photo. We'd seen it earlier, when I didn't have my camera with me. The print is about as long as my hand. We played with a father and son from Denver (just up for the day to play golf), and clearly the son was not one of those who had played since he 5; he was doing worse than I was. By the time we were playing the 6th, we were a couple of holes behind the pace and the ranger asked us to pick it up (making David miss his next three shots, of course).
Clearly we weren't going to be able to move fast enough, with both me and the kid struggling. At the turn, we asked the starter if we could sit out to let a few parties through, then restart to do the back. He was grateful! We sent the father and son on without us and repaired to the Hangar to split an excellent reuben with so-so fries. I had wondered why the restaurant at a golf course would be called The Hangar, especially when the nearest airport was miles away. Turns out that for a period in the 1940s and 1950s, the golf course was reduced to just nine holes, to provide room for a commercial airport serving Estes Park's tourist trade. As planes got bigger, though, it was ruled too small and unpredictably windy to continue in that capacity, so the airport was closed and the 18-hole format restored. In this view of the Hangar's interior, you can see model planes hanging from the ceiling over the bar.
Then we lurked at the ninth green for a while, but we could see parties one right after another for several holes back. Clearly it would be at least another hour before we could get in, so we went back to the starter, who immediately sent us out on the first again, so we played the front half twice.
The day before, my left forefinger had been very sore and had interfered badly with my swing. Today, at David's suggestion, I cut the end off that finger of my glove, so that it wouldn't chafe on the seam, and experimented with swinging with my forefinger extended, off the club. That worked reasonably well (I went around the front nine in 52), but during lunch my hand stiffened up and the whole outside edge, opposite the thumb, was very sore—probably strained in compensating for the forefinger. So I loosened my glove a lot and did my best. It got very windy at one point, and we could see and terrific rainstorm a couple of valleys away, but our weather held, and I went around the front the second time in 58.
Tomorrow we have the 9:04 a.m. at the 9-hole course.
Jan and Jack were still asleep when we left, but Jan then spent the day hiking. The rain that missed us fell on her. Her hip is acting up again, despite the massages, so she picked up some epsom salts on the way back, and I am now typing one-handed while I soak my left hand in them.
For dinner, I combined some left-over ground meat from the meatloaf, a large onion, some garlic, a can of diced tomatoes, soem basil and oregano, a bunch of shredded Parmesan and Mozzarella, and a bunch of spaghetti left over from the tetrazini to form a "pasta bake." I thought it came out pretty bland, but it was well enough received. With it I served chunks of zucchini braised braised in olive oil with onion, tomato, and herbs. We had blueberries and an apple in the fridge, so I made a fruit crumble for dessert, but the vote was to head to downtown Estes Park for an ice cream, so we put the crumble aside for breakfast.
This time, we went to Hayley's, and the ice cream was, if anything better. Behind the counter was this array of chalkboards displaying the flavors available that day, 30 in all, including sea salt caramel (without oreos; my choice), bubble gum, coconut swirl, huckleberry, strawberry guava, cotton candy, snickers, and tiger butter (white chocolate with fudge and peanut-butter swirls). We sat outside on benches and planters along the sidewalk while all comers petted and played with Zorro, to his great delight. Sometimes they even dropped food, to his even greater delight.
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