Trip to Lake Havasu

We just got back from Lake Havasu, where we held a memorial in remembrance of my father in law, Ben, who died last year.

I didn't take very many pictures, but the few I did take are posted now on Google Photos. Click on the picture below to see them.

Lake Havasu, near Parker Dam

Pretty. Dull.

My friend Kirby and I did a little wandering around Iowa for a couple of days this past week. There are a couple of dozen counties in the northwestern part of that state that I'd never been to before, and we had just enough free time to drive over there (from Wisconsin), cruise through them all, and head back (to Wisconsin).

Impressions are that (a) the people there are of the friendly sort; (b) the countryside is pretty, even with all the fields lying bare awaiting the planting of crops; and (c) there is no reason on earth, beyond making a living, to be there.

Here are all the things I spotted in 24 counties that were worth stopping to take a picture of:

There seems to be a local tradition of painting big rocks with patriotic themes. These two pictures are of the Lyon County "Freedom Rock."

And these three are of the Clay County "Freedom Rock."

In Britt, Iowa, we stumbled across the National Hobo Museum, located here because it's where the hobos hold their annual convention. I didn't even know there was such a group.

The next few pictures were taken inside.

hobo symbols

racks of exhibits

drink holder

 

We drove out to this mound expecting it to be an Indian mound; it's not, as the sign explains. The area is operated as a wildlife refuge by a group called the Osceola County Conservation Board, which is either not really a governmental entity, or else indulges in an un-American mingling of church and state.








Somewhere along the road we came to one of those outdoor Heritage Parks; I forget where. It was closed, so this is the only photo I could get. This bit of folk art appears to be old farm machinery piled up and welded together to form a sculpture.

And then, finally, this bit of folk art: Pocahontas represented as a Plains Indian.

Hard to Dislike

Texas Roadhouse
5019 Keystone Crossing
Eau Claire, Wisconsin

(just off Hwy 53, one exit north of I-94)

My main gripe about chain restaurants in general, as I've said often enough that I shouldn't have to say it again, is that their food is dumbed down to a corporate idea of what average people like. My gripe about Texas Roadhouse (a Kentucky corporation, by the way) in particular stems from an article in a San Antonio newspaper more than 20 years ago.

It was the first time I'd heard of Texas Roadhouse. I don't remember if it was in the local daily paper, or the throwaway weekly rag, or in a legal news publication. I think it was the last, but I could be wrong.

The gist of the article was this: there was a small business in a town east of San Antonio that went by the name of Texas Roadhouse. It had been around for decades, selling beer and who knows what else to the people of its small community. We call those places "ice houses". The Kentucky corporation, looking to expand into Texas, wanted the rights to the name, which, according to the article (and my own understanding of that field of law) they couldn't get without the co-operation of the little ice house. Apparently the little ice house wouldn't give up the name. (I suspect, more than remember, that piles of money were offered; I know that, were I the ice house's attorney, I'd've sure recommended selling the name for anything with six figures left of the decimal, and then using some other name. Lord knows, the people that constitute its market don't give a damn what the place is called, they just want their beer and they know where to get it. Besides, they probably just call it "the ice house" anyway.)

Anyway, the upshot of the article was about the heavy-handed browbeating legal tactics the Kentucky corporation used to force the little ice house to give up the name. I don't know now what they were, though I recall there was an extensive discussion of it (which is why I think it was probably in a legal publication), but what I have remembered all these years is the indignation I felt that such robber-baron tactics would be used by Goliath against David. As a result, I've never been to a Texas Roadhouse.

But a friend of mine was taking me to dinner and Texas Roadhouse was the place he selected. 

This place is no different from a handful of similar steak houses: it's Outback without the Ozzie theme, Logan's Roadhouse with a southwestern theme, Beau's Place with more peanut shells on the floor. There's nothing original about the concept, but I find that it's done, overall, a tad better than similar places. 

There was a wait of about 15 minutes for a table, an interval spent shelling peanuts in the waiting area by the front door before we were led through the labyrinth to our two-person booth. Drinks were ordered and quickly brought by the assigned member of the uniformly chirpy waitstaff, who without exception managed to make terminal chirpiness seem not just normal, but infectious. Orders were placed with our capable and knowledgeable waitress. A couple of people nearby had birthdays, prompting me to observe that, in the hour or less I was there, I heard the word "yee-hah" more than I have in nearly a lifetime in Texas. I felt I should be insulted by the perpetuation of simplistic stereotypes about Texas, but then I thought of everything ever said about the state and its people on The Big Bang Theory, and decided that these simplistic stereotypes are the lesser evil. 

The time we spent waiting for our food -- not a long time, especially considering the crowd in the place -- was used to shell more peanuts and plow through a tray of deliciously fattening dinner rolls served with butter laced with honey and cinnamon. 

My dinner was a rib eye, ordered medium rare, a baked potato with everything on the side, and steamed vegetables. Everything was prepared exactly as it should have been: the veggies were hot and cooked to precisely the right point, with no spritz of oil or butter to diminish their healthful attributes; the potato was perfectly cooked (and of a proper size, not one of those over-large things you get at "steak houses" patronized by broke students); all the accoutrements were served on the side, as requested, in amounts that would ensure that I would have more than enough without being made to feel wasteful; and the steak, surprise surprise, was actually medium rare and tender.

My friend ordered a rack of ribs; I tasted the sauce and found it more Kansas City than Texas. Not bad, but not authentic either. Maybe corporate research indicates that KC-style barbecue plays better in Wisconsin. 

The place was loud in a bubbly sort of family-friendly way, not uncomfortably so; it was clean, except for the peanut shells all over, for which there is a traditional exception to standards. 

The prices struck me as about right for this sort of mid-range steak house; except the price of drinks ($2.59 for a bottomless glass) is higher than it should be, though I am apparently the last person in the whole world who cares.

 

Spring in the Midwest

The pictures I took on my recent trip to Wisconsin and St Louis are now available for viewing. There aren't a lot of them. Click here to see them.

Dragon
from the Minnesota "Science" Museum
(they don't put "Science" in quotes, but they should)

I got a lot of new counties in Iowa, and finished touring the counties of Illinois (making it the 27th state completed). I've now been to more than 90% of the counties in the US. Whoopee.

Makes me wonder...

From the BBC:

Uefa has also fined Bayern Munich £2,600 after

their supporters delayed the tie at Arsenal's Emirates

stadium by throwing rolls of paper onto the pitch

in protest over ticket prices.

If they think the ticket prices are unreasonable, why are they at the match in the first place?

I'm just saying...

I came across a quote the other day, said during World War I by

Admiral John Jellicoe, about Prime Minister David Lloyd George:

Jellicoe

Lloyd George

"He gets figures from any source and believes them

if they suit his views."

I suppose if Britain can survive Lloyd George, then we can survive Donald Trump. Hope so, anyway.

Trump

This Year's Huntsman Trip Pictures Posted

The pictures for this year's trip to the Huntsman Games are up now. They include photos taken at Bisti Wilderness in New Mexico, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument and Capital Reef National Park, Utah. My favourites are the pics from Calf Creek Falls, the high point of a six-hour hike. Carly liked that part best, too.

Bisti Wilderness

Capital Reef

Devil's Garden

Calf Creek Falls

Good Food in Albuquerque

Mac's La Sierra
6217 Central Avenue NW, Albuquerque

(just east of Coors Boulevard)

For a South Texas boy like me, finding acceptable Mexican food west of the Pecos is a challenge; finding good Mexican food was, I thought, beyond hope. I feel renewed now, though.

The desk clerk at our hotel recommended this place; I almost didn't take up her suggestion, because it seemed a little too far, especially since my experiences of Mexican food out here have all been pretty dismal. But what the hell, I decided; the alternative she suggested was Chili's, which held no attraction for me either. At least, I figured, I might get a good, snarky review out of the local place.

First, the look of it: straight out of a Southwestern version of Happy Days, the show they should have made, but with Nacho instead of Fonzie. The place looks like it was built in the 50s, added onto in the 60s, and untouched since. Could use a larger parking lot, but otherwise it exudes a working-class cultura-coche charm: soda fountain-style stools in the front, tables and booths in the back (and I think there was another dining room beyond the kitchen). All done up in a red shade you haven't seen since before Nixon resigned, with some classically uninteresting prints on the walls.

Next, the service: after an initial bobble -- a pregnant pause before menus and water appeared -- the service was excellent, and included an apology for the misunderstanding between staff members that resulted in the delay. The waitress was very helpful as we tried to make our selections (one of the big problems with trans-Pecos Mexican food is the language barrier: they use the same words, but for all different things). And all her recommendations proved solid.

The food was almost great. The chips were only so-so, but the salsa was pretty good. My wife chose the daily special for her meal: green chili stew. I had just a taste of it, but found it delicious and piquant, and it sure looked good, with nice chunks of potato and other good things in a deep dish of ... well, green chili salsa. My own dish was the "house special," steak fingers and enchiladas, with an egg added (one of the waitress's recommendations). It was served with charro beans, some pretty good Spanish rice, a little salad, three very small breaded steak fingers (which looked kind of sad all by themselves on a side plate), and puffed bread called sopapillas. (Sopapillas are a dessert dish back home....) Because I'd ordered the egg on top, the enchiladas were served open, and topped on one side with red salsa (which they call "chili" here) and on the other with green salsa.

My biggest objection to the style of Mexican food out here is the amount of chili powder they use in their red salsas: it's overpowering. But tonight I discovered that if you mix a runny egg yolk into it, it becomes quite good. Better than merely acceptable. And except for the puniness of those steak fingers (which still tasted good; well, they're fried, you know, and fried food is always tasty. You could deep fry squirrel leg and it'd be good eatin', as I'm sure most of my peeps in West-by-God-Virginia can attest), everything was really enjoyable. The salad was fresh, the tortillas in the enchiladas had excellent texture, the cheese was creamy and not so profuse as to be overdone (a common affliction of many  American adaptations of ethnic cuisines), and even the bread was flavourful, if not as tasty as a good flour tortilla.

We had all this for about ten bucks a head. That, I think, is pretty good value.

THE CURMUDGEON'S RATINGS:
FOOD: 4 1/2 chili peppers (out of 5)
SERVICE: 4 1/2 chili peppers
AMBIENCE: 3 1/2 chili peppers
VALUE: 3 1/2 chili peppers