13/100... up, up and away

I can always tell when hot air balloons are flying over our house. Every dog in the neighborhood barks incessantly despite admonitions from their owners to "BE QUIET!" I like to think they are really excited about seeing such beautiful balloons floating in the sky and are asking for a lift. Of course, the reality is that they are warning us of impending danger from something really big and noisy. Either way, watching the hot balloons float effortlessly in the sky stirred a desire in me to float above the ground in one. Last month I found a Groupon deal for a hot air balloon ride with Hot Air Expeditions  and grabbed it. A week or so later we went on our first hot air balloon ride (#13 on my "100 Things in Arizona" list) over the desert in north Phoenix.

We met our group (about 75 people riding in 6 balloons) at the Deer Valley Airport one Sunday afternoon. From there, we piled into vans to drive out to the departure site near Lake Pleasant. We were excited when the crew captain determined that conditions were safe and the launches would proceed. Our crew laid out the balloon, called an envelope, on the ground and did a visual inspection before beginning to inflate it.

Our sweet ride!

One of the things I did while I was waiting was inspect the basket. I have wicker baskets at home and none of them are strong enough to hold 25 pounds let alone 13 adults. I knocked into the basket, punched it, kicked it and still it didn't budge. One of the crew members was watching me and with a twinkle in his eye, said that the baskets are very strong and they've never had an "accident." Meanwhile, the crew continued inflating the balloon.

The interior of the balloon was inspected several times as it inflated. These people take safety very seriously!

The pilot explained that once the balloon was inflated and brought upright, everyone would need to climb inside the basket quickly. There are toe holds in the basket but no step stool. I was glad he asked us and another couple if we would be willing to get in the balloon while it was on its side, laying down with our feet against the bottom of the basket. They need ballast in the basket as they bring it upright.

We had to crawl in and then shift our balance as the basket righted itself. 

As soon as the balloon was mostly inflated the crew allowed it to rise as they held on tightly to the ropes. When the basket was upright, the rest of the passengers and the pilot climbed in over the sides. At last, we were ready to launch!

It looks like we're crammed in the basket but there was plenty of room for the 12 passengers and the pilot had his own compartment just behind me.

Once we were all in and situated, the pilot fired up the burner to heat the air in the balloon. We were standing directly beneath the burner and it was quite warm/hot when he fired it up - in fact, it felt like a blistering sunburn. It is the noise from the burner that makes the dogs bark. The pilot explained that they can hear it from miles away.

As the air in the balloon warmed, we rose higher in the sky.

I guess I expected to feel the sensation of moving or at least feel the wind. What I realized as we rose is that we move WITH the wind so there is no sensation of moving or feeling the wind. It felt like we were floating in air.

We watched our shadow as we gained altitude.

Even though the glider ride took us over the same area, the view was different since we were moving much more slowly in the balloon and were at a lower altitude for most of the ride.

Surprisingly, the view straight down did not bother me at all while Richard was not a fan.

About 30 minutes after we launched, the sun started to set. I have seen thousands of sunsets but there is something special about watching one while you're floating 3000 feet above the ground. The 360-degree view allowed us to see the gradations in color in a way we couldn't on the ground.

The northeast valley was washed in rosy hues as the sun neared the horizon.

And the view to the west was quite a show!

Colors changed from orange to rose as the sun slipped lower and lower on the horizon.

After about an hour of flight time, as dusk approached, it was time to land. Although our pilot prepared us for a landing in which the basket tips over, we landed upright and the land crew swiftly secured the lines to keep us down. One by one, we climbed out of the basket, marveling at our ride.

As is tradition, we ended our flight with a champagne toast. Our crew also provided tables with cloth tablecloths and excellent appetizers. We thought it was the ultimate tailgate party! And a fabulous way to end a spectacular ride!

Thumb Up or Down: UP!!!

Miles Round Trip: 77.3 miles

Miles To Date: 10,713.7 miles

Percent of List Completed: 94%
Date of This Trip: November 4, 2012

prince of peace

I love the Christmas season... twinkling Christmas lights on houses, hearing Christmas music EVERYWHERE you go, watching Christmas movies on tv, wrapping gifts, reading Christmas cards and letters from family and friends far away, putting up the Christmas tree. According to Andy Williams, "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!"

And yet, every year I get a little melancholy as I put out Christmas decor we received from family members who are no longer with us. Each piece triggers a memory and I find myself missing that person a little more and feeling a bit sad.

When I was about 12 my parents gave my sisters and me each an ornament, the only one they got specifically for each of us. They were  babies with wings and hair color to match ours. Mine was a blue-eyed, brown-haired baby and I thought it was pretty silly at the time. But as an adult, I hang it on the tree every single year.

My mother-in-law, whom I affectionately called "Nona," gave us an elf. There were actually three elves and she gave one to each of her kids. She said they got them in the 1940's and that they were her favorite Christmas decoration. I remember them carefully displayed in their house - and her letting my children hold them as she told them stories of Christmas' past.

My sister-in-law, Karlene, loved Neil Diamond just about as much as I do. She and her husband, John, would go to every concert with us. Whenever I hear a Neil Diamond Christmas song, I remember her and how much we wished he would do a Christmas concert tour.

My other sister-in-law, Karen, gave us a nesting Santa that she and her husband, Dan, got in St. Petersburg when they were there. I loved hearing her stories about their travels and my kids loved opening it and taking out the pieces.

Sometimes something horrific like the school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut on December 14, 2012 grips the entire nation with sadness and loss. While I would not presume to know the gut-wrenching grief the parents of the children or the families of the adults who were killed are experiencing this Christmas, I can be sure it is worse than the sadness and helplessness I feel as I watch the news.

It is at times like these, especially, that we need to remember why we celebrate Christmas. It isn't about holiday decor or Christmas songs or any of those things that we often think makes it "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year." Instead, we need to focus on the birth of the One who later died for me and for you, the One who knows our heartache and promises to be with us always.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

42/100... that's corny!

There used to be a lot of corn fields near our house. Now they have been replaced with housing developments and grocery stores but back in the day I used to wonder what it would be like to be lost in a corn field. I think I had just watched North By Northwest (1959)  where Cary Grant runs through the corn field to evade the bad guys flying in an airplane.

Recently corn mazes have become a popular fall activity and I was excited to find one close to our house. It was not surprising that Vertuccio Farms Corn Maze (# 42) made it onto my "100 Things in Arizona" list! We decided to go on the weekend they were also having a Tamale Festival (November 3-4, 2012).

Workers at the corn maze told me that the entire field of corn is planted and then when the plants begin to grow, they use a mower to cut down some of the corn plants to form the maze. At the end of the season, the field is mowed down and the corn is used to make cattle feed.

We were expecting to get a map to follow as we went through the maze but the only map was posted on a sign at the concession stand. We also thought there would be a goal or an end spot like in a maze you do on paper. There was not. They had a CSI-type game with stands along the way to help you solve the "crime" - but no way to know where they were unless you wandered through the entire maze.

Although the maze makes a great design from the air, it is pretty intricate to just wander through.

We decided to give it a try and paid our $5 admission to the corn maze. Since it was the end of the season, the corn was very dry and the paths were very dusty. It was an allergy haven but we headed in without hesitation!

We walked a little ways into the maze and then decided it wasn't much fun to just wander around without a goal so we walked back out and left. Surely the Tamale Festival would be better.

Unfortunately, their idea of a Tamale Festival was selling tamales in their concession stand so that was a bust, too.

Thumb Up or Down: Down!!

Miles Round Trip: 16.7 miles

Miles To Date: 10,636.4 miles

Percent of List Completed: 93%

Date of This Trip: November 3, 2012

41/100 ... tumacácori

When I was in elementary school my parents planned what they promised would be a fabulous summer vacation for us. In the middle of summer we set off for our "fun-filled family vacation" - a two week tour of every Indian ruin in Arizona. My younger sister and I shared the backseat of the family car - a car with vinyl seats and NO air conditioning. After the second Indian ruin, they all began to look the same... boring! While I was wondering why we couldn't have a "normal" family vacation and go to Disneyland, I also vowed that I would never go to another Indian ruin... ever.

Fast forward several decades. Friends mentioned they went to Tumacácori and Tubac and had a fabulous time. I was skeptical thinking that Tumacácori was an Indian ruin and this was a trick to get me to break my vow. Then another decade or so later I discovered, while reading an Arizona Highways magazine, that Tumacácori was not an Indian ruin but a mission and contributed greatly to Arizona's history. When I made my "100 Things in Arizona" list, it was #41 - and we visited it this fall.

The first stop is the visitor's center where friendly rangers helped us plan our visit to fit the time we had available. We also picked up a guide book before heading out the back door and into the past.

A beautiful garden with plenty of shade and benches separated the visitor's center from the museum building (lower left). 

In the late 1600's Father Kino, a Jesuit missionary, renamed the O'odham village called Tumacácori located on the east side of the Santa Cruz River calling it Cayetano (Spanish). He celebrated the first mass there in a ramada built by the Indians. This newly established mission, a community for converting the natives to Christianity, became San Cayetano de Tumacácori. Although we usually use "church" and "mission" synonymously, Tumacácori did not have a real church building until after the Pima Rebellion in 1751 when the community was moved to its present site on the west side of the river to be near the newly established Tubac Presidio for protection. Its name was changed to San José de Tumacácori and the new church was finished in1757. The church we see today was built by the Franciscans between 1800 and 1822 long after Father Kino had died (1711).

The long path leading from the museum to the church gave me time to really look at the church, to imagine what life would have been like back when it was built. Underneath the mound to the left of the path are the foundations of O'odham houses.

The O'odham people made adobe bricks from the clay-like soil mixed with gravel and water. Limestone was quarried from the Santa Rita mountains about 30 miles away (seen in the right side of the photo above) to be used to make plaster for the walls. And still others grew crops for food and trading. 

Some of the original adobe bricks are visible where the limestone plaster has eroded away. Exterior restoration of the church has been extensive although great care has been taken to maintain the authenticity of the building. For example, the bell in the bell tower has been replaced but is of similar size and material as the original one.

The interior of the church is laid out in the form of a long hall rather than a cross. There were no pews; people stood or knelt during the services. From the nave, steps lead up to the sanctuary where the priest celebrated the Mass. The original paints, picture frames and extensive stenciling are still visible giving a glimpse of its former beauty.

The cross made of flowers was the only modern adornment. A worker was busy doing reconstruction but graciously moved for my picture-taking. 

The roof was removed after the church was abandoned and the wood used for other buildings. It has been replaced several times since then. This view, looking back into the nave from the sanctuary, shows the deterioration of the walls in many places.

The church was abandoned in 1848 and changed from a house of worship to just a house. People traveling through the area could not resist the lure of a warm place to stay out of the elements. Weary "49ers" on their way to the California Gold Rush, Mexican soldiers and cowboys all spent nights in the church, especially in the sacristy, a kind of storeroom where the priests kept the clothing and articles used in the performance of their duties. It was also where the priests mentally prepared themselves to be servants of God and where they kept church records of baptisms, marriages, burials and the like. As time went on, US soldiers and cowboys also stayed in the sacristy and like those before them, they recorded their stay on the walls. Sometimes they died there, too - and were buried on the grounds.

Just outside the church is the mortuary chapel and graveyard. The grave markers are all 20th century. Mission-era graves were destroyed long ago by weather, treasure hunters and cattle - the cemetery was used as a corral during long cattle drives at the end of the 19th century.

The mission was truly a community and provided not only for the people's spiritual needs but also for their physical needs.  The Spanish priests brought sheep, goats, cattle, wheat and fruit trees which provided a much greater variety to the O'odham diet. Food was dried, stored in clay jars and baskets in the granary for distribution to the people throughout the year.

The roof to the granary also "disappeared" after the church was abandoned.

The foundation in front of and to the left of the church is all that remains of the original church. The building to the right of the church is the front of the granary and just behind it is the mortuary chapel and graveyard. This was definitely a community with social structure.

The museum is filled with interesting displays and artifacts depicting life at Tumacácori from its inception to abandonment. One thing I found interesting was the origin of the tortilla. Aztecs made a flat, round, yellowish bread out of corn. The Spaniards had never seen corn but made a yellowish omelette out of eggs that they called a tortilla. Having no other word for the Indian cornbread, the Spanish called it a tortilla. This "Mexican" tortilla continued to evolve with the Spanish introduction of wheat. It is truly a blending of the two cultures.

Unlike the vacation from my childhood, this trip was interesting and fun. And, to be honest, it did have ruins if you count the foundation from the first church. Perhaps with age comes wisdom and the ability to better appreciate other cultures.

Thumb Up or Down: Up!!

Miles Round Trip: 294.2 miles

Miles To Date: 10,619.7 miles

Percent of List Completed: 92%

Date of This Trip: October 26, 2012

20/100 revisited... spreading some Christmas cheer

We drove by the Mystery Christmas Tree (#20 on my "100 Things in Arizona" list) on I-17 between Sunset Point and Cordes Junction last December (2011) and were sad that it was not the festive tree we were expecting.  I gave it neither a thumb up nor a thumb down since it was not decorated. You can read that post here.

We drove by it again about a week ago and I am happy to report that it has been fully adorned for Christmas this year. The American flags and yellow ribbons honoring our military are a nice addition to the shiny, glittering ornaments and giant candy canes.

Be sure to look for it if you head up north this Christmas season!

This tree truly is a "Mystery Tree" since no one knows (or will admit) anything about who decorates it or what happened last year that kept it from being decorated. I checked this year with the public affairs officers from the Yavapai Country Sheriff's Office, Arizona Department of Public Safety and the Arizona Department of Transportation and all disavowed any knowledge of who does it or why it wasn't done last year. 

Whoever the mystery elves are, I'm glad they're back spreading a little Christmas cheer to all who pass by.

Thumb Up or Down: UP all the way!!

92/100... bull run - no, not that one

Have you ever wanted to see something first-hand even though you knew you weren't going to like it? That was my dilemma when I put Run With the Bulls (#92) on my "100 Things in Arizona" list. I was reasonably sure I wasn't going to like it - and perhaps not for the reason(s) you might think - but felt like I had to see it for myself.

Just about everyone has heard of the running with the bulls event in Pamplona, Spain.  The practice began over 400 years ago when bulls were herded down a street from a pen to the bullfighting ring. At first just the drovers led the bulls, then the butchers guild wanted in on the action and began running behind the bulls with the drovers. Pretty soon young men joined in the fracas running not behind the bulls like everyone else but in front of the bulls. And before you could throw a red flag on the ground, a new adrenaline-surging "sport" was born.

Today, every year from July 7th through the 14th, tens of thousands of people crowd into the town of Pamplona for a festival called Sanfermines, a tribute to Saint Fermin, the patron saint of Narvarre (the district Pamplona is located in). The bull running event is very traditional beginning with a benediction in front of the statue of Saint Fermin. Runners dress in traditional garb - white shirt and trousers with a red waistband and neckerchief. They also carry that day's newspaper rolled up to use to distract bulls who get too close. Runners are not allowed to be under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Between 200 and 300 people are injured annually and since 1924 (when record keeping began), 15 people have been killed (mostly from goring) with the last fatality in 2009. The run ends in a bull pen where the bulls are used in bull-fighting and by day's end are killed.

Bull running became popular in several US states, including Arizona, beginning in the 1980's. Advertised as "the adrenaline rush of a lifetime," 50 runners dash ahead of a dozen bulls for a quarter mile. Participants must initial every paragraph and sign every page of a seven-page waiver, get a medical clearance from a doctor and show proof of medical insurance before they can compete. And make no mistake, it is a competition as runners are scored on how much "contact" they have with the bulls, how close they stay to them, etc. with the winners receiving cash prizes.

The 2012 Running With the Bulls event was held in Cave Creek in October and we arrived prior to the first run at 9:00 am. Rather than a somewhat dignified event like in Pamplona, we found a party-like atmosphere with costumed people lined up at the beer, wine and tequila vendors.

The mechanical bull was a popular spot for most of the contestants. Besides alcohol vendors, crafters and home businesses also had booths giving spectators something to do between runs.

Officials with rifles patrolled the event. I was told they were there in case a bull "got out of control." Other event employees included cowboys, announcers and camera people.

We were not interested in drinking alcohol at 9:00am or in the craft booths so we checked out the bulls. About 50 bulls were corralled in several pens with food and water available. The cowboys seemed to know them all by name as both bulls and cowboys travel around the US doing these events.

These guys looked pretty mellow... sweet, even. 

Unlike the bulls in Pamplona which have long, pointed horns, the bulls used in the events in the US have had their horns cut and filed. But make no mistake, they can still inflict considerable damage. And some looked pretty ornery.

This old guy looked like he wasn't taking any bull from anyone.

And these crazy bulls kept fighting with each other. I think the spotted one made a snide comment about the brown one's nose ring. Yeah, they talk trash to each other. Really.

Finally it was time to get started. The first group of 50 runners paraded around the track, showing off their costumes. Each runner pays $25-35 per run (and most run more than once) or $75 for the day. 

We watched two runs. Runners also get points for their costumes so most everyone had a costume of some sort. Some were quite elaborate, some were home-made, some seemed dangerous (one guy had on a crayon costume and could barely run). 

The first group of runners lined up at the start line. BANG! the shot rang out and the race was on. Runners started running and then six 1,500 pound bulls were released behind them. After 20 or 30 seconds, six more bulls were released.

Nearly every runner had a handheld camera or one mounted on their body somewhere. And some of the bulls had cameras taped to their horns - I guess that's how the promoters get videos for their advertising.

If a runner felt in danger or wanted to "escape," he (or she, in this case) could climb over the fence into an empty area just for them. This girl never came back into the race/chase.

The first race was over in about a minute and a half. Several people were injured; three badly enough to be taken to the hospital in ambulances. Yes, paramedics and ambulances are waiting on site. Oh, and remember that "sweet-looking" black bull without horns at the beginning of this post? He injured two of the people taken to the hospital. One of the cowboys told me he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder, probably because the other bulls give him grief over not having horns. It seems bulls are like books; you can't judge them by their covers.

The girl on the left with the bandage on her leg is the one that climbed over the fence. She was just treated at the scene. The girl climbing into the ambulance was going to the hospital with her friend. I couldn't help but wonder how much of an "adrenaline rush" they were feeling now.

Entertainment was provided in between the runs. Some entertainers were bands, some were rodeo clowns. In between the first and second runs was midget bullfighting, which we assumed were miniature bulls. WRONG!

It was a BIG bull and a little bullfighter. (And I thought "midget" was politically incorrect...)

This bullfighter was a world-renowned midget bullfighter from Mexico. The bull knocked his flag to the ground; the bullfighter tapped the bull on his head and the fight was over. Unlike "real" bullfights, this bull was not killed and no blood was shed.

Now it was time for the second run. Runners took their places, the shot was fired and they were off. And then the bulls came.

You hear the bulls - their hooves thundering on the ground - before you see them. Runners try to open a path for them while still staying close.

Still pictures and words can only describe so much. 

Animal rights groups like PETA protest against bull running claiming it is inhumane and endangers the bulls. From what I could see, the bulls are well cared for and certainly not in danger. The runners, on the other hand, are not well cared for. Many of them were more than just a little tipsy. Allowing runners to drink alcohol, even encouraging it, and then run with 1,500 pound bulls is endangering their safety. Yes, they signed waivers. So the promoters are safe from lawsuits.

The bull runs in Pamplona are part of a week-long festival honoring the patron saint of the town. There is a reason to do them: tradition. It is a serious event. Yes, people get hurt and even die but precautions are taken to make it as safe as possible for the runners. In contrast, in my opinion, bull running in the US is just a money-making game with an excuse to drink and party.

I think it's inconsistent that there are laws to prevent us from driving while intoxicated for our safety as well as the safety of others, but running with grown bulls while intoxicated - putting both yourself and potentially others in danger - is not illegal. I guess one is a misdemeanor or felony while the other is "entertainment" or "sport."

Thumb Up or Down: DOWN!! Don't encourage this kind of behavior!

Miles Round Trip: 81.9 miles

Miles To Date: 10,325.5 miles

Percent of List Completed: 91%
Date of This Trip: October 20, 2012

81 and 88/100... hormonal responses

Adrenaline- the hormone produced during high-stress or exciting situations, it creates the body's fight or flight response. Some people jump out of perfectly good airplanes to get that "rush." Endorphins- the hormones that make us feel good, also called natural morphine. Some people run marathons to get that "high." One Sunday afternoon last month I experienced both the rush and the high as I crossed two more things off my "100 Things in Arizona" list.

It was a beautiful, warm, but not hot, afternoon when we drove out near Lake Pleasant north of Phoenix. Our destination was the Turf Soaring School so I could ride in a sail plane, or a glider (#81). Three of us were riding (Laurie, Richard and me while Mike stayed on terra firma to take pics!) but we would go alone (with an instructor, of course!). Laurie went first. Then it was my turn with a different instructor and glider. 

It was with mixed emotions that I signed the liability waiver and walked out to my blue and white glider. I had seen sail planes gliding through the sky and wondered what it would feel like to fly like a bird - to depend on thermals to take you higher. But I also was concerned about the fact that there is no engine of any kind on a glider. I've always believed that, with my cars, more horsepower is better. There wasn't even a puny pony on the glider.

After a safety briefing and explanation of the controls, I was strapped into my seat in the front and my instructor/pilot, Danny, was seated behind me. The canopy was closed and I locked it into place. The palms of my hands were moist and I could feel my heart racing.

Thinking positively!

Once the canopy is closed and locked, the cockpit begins to heat up so there is no dilly-dallying at this point.

Ready or not, here we go!

Mike shot this video of my take-off... what you can't see is my heart is pounding!

Once we were in the air, the tow plane spiraled upwards pulling us up to 3,000 feet. I could hear the engine of the tow plane and for some strange reason it gave me comfort. Looking out the cockpit window and seeing the tow plane with the tow rope trailing behind it made me think of walking a dog - the kind that has a mind of its own and goes where it wants dragging you behind. 

Where would the tow plane take us next? 

My one and only job, since I had opted to NOT fly the glider (Laurie and Richard both flew theirs!), was to pull the bright red knob that would release the cable attaching us to the tow plane when Danny told me to do so. This awesome responsibility ratcheted up my adrenaline level as I wondered what would happen if I couldn't pull it hard enough to release the tow rope... or if I mistakenly thought I heard the command, "Release now!" Have I mentioned how fast my heart was racing?

And then, suddenly, I heard Danny calmly telling me to pull the red knob releasing the tow rope - and to remember it would make a loud noise. It easily pulled out making the loud noise as promised and the tow plane banked to the left.

I could see the tow rope fall - the dog was free of the dog-walker!

As the tow plane banked to the left, Danny banked our glider to the right and we went our separate ways. 

Strangely, I felt no sense of motion as we banked.

The noise level dropped significantly as we were gliding on layers of air without the tow plane. The ride was smooth and peaceful and even with the smog layer I could see a long ways away. I felt like I was on top of the world, ready for anything. Ahhh... the adrenaline rush!

Danny pointed out roads, mountains and, of course, Lake Pleasant as we flew through the sky at about 40 mph... slower than I drive down Elliot Road in my car!

As we were flying - or, more precisely, gliding - I realized I had three misconceptions about gliding. First, despite not having air conditioning and sitting in a glass bubble on a warm day, it was NOT hot in the cockpit. There are several air vents that open allowing air movement. Second, despite not having an engine, it was not perfectly quiet like I imagined it would be. The air rushing through the aforementioned air vents is a little noisy. And third, despite seeking out thermals the ride is very smooth, unlike a jumbo jet landing on a summer afternoon in Phoenix where thermals create awful turbulence. I did, indeed, feel like a bird flying - or at least what I imagine a bird feels like flying through the sky.

After about 15 minutes, it was time to come down. And then time for Richard's turn!

The runway is gravel so you hear the "crunch, crunch" of the rocks as the plane glides to a stop.

Danny expertly landed our glider - which, incidentally, has only one wheel! When the glider slows to a crawl, one wing drops down to the ground and the ride is over. Would I do it again? Sure. But unlike Laurie, I have no interest in learning how to fly it. Maybe next time she'll take me up!

After everyone returned to solid ground, we went to Mary Coyle Ol' Fashion Ice Cream Parlor (#88) in Phoenix. Richard's family used to go to this old-time ice cream parlor when he was a young boy and it was time for me to discover what the scoop was on this place.

Mary Coyle's Ol' Fashion Ice Cream Parlor came to the valley in 1951 from Akron, Ohio. Their claim to fame was ol' fashion ice cream made with 16% butterfat. Baskin-Robbins and Coldstone, for comparison, contain 14% butterfat while Ben & Jerry's has 16%. They used quality ingredients and made their ice cream on the premises... just like they do today! 

The Coyle's sold their business to Bob Kelly, an in-law, in 2005. He continued to build the business until last year (2011) when the failing economy really hit his business. Between declining sales (down 40%) and increasing costs, he was forced to sell or close. At the eleventh hour, long-time customer Mike Stoffey bought the ice cream parlor to preserve a piece of Phoenix's history. He gave the place a much-needed face-lift - repainted, reupholstered booths, updated business systems and added to and retrained the staff.

We enjoyed the many pictures that hung on the wall showing the history of the 61-year old ice cream parlor that continues to serve "ol' fashion ice cream" to Valley residents.

By the time we got settled in our booth, the adrenaline rush I had been feeling faded leaving in its place restlessness, sagging energy and a headache. Ahh... but I knew the antidote for all that - a chocolate sundae and the resulting endorphin high! 

I had a chocolate sundae with Ol' Colonial Coffee Ice Cream - or as I call it, "The Endorphin Special!"

While it was a new experience for Mike, Laurie and me, it was a trip down memory lane for Richard. And the ice cream was as good as he remembered - rich and creamy!

Thumb Up or Down: UP!!

Miles Round Trip: 110.3 miles

Miles To Date: 10,243.6 miles

Percent of List Completed: 90%

Date of This Trip: October 7, 2012

72/100... into the wild blue yonder

My grandfather (or more accurately, my step-grandfather, but he was the only grandfather I knew) was an airplane mechanic in the Army Air Corps which later became the US Air Force. When I was a child he would occasionally tell me stories about the planes he worked on in far-away places. Sometimes he took me with him when he went to the PX at Luke Air Force Base and would tell me about some of the planes we saw there. I wasn't all that interested at the time in stories about the planes or in seeing them, but I liked spending time with my grandfather. A recent visit to the Commemorative Air Force Aviation Museum  (#72 on my "100 Things in Arizona" list) in Mesa brought to mind memories of time spent with him.

The Commemorative Air Force Aviation Museum (CAF Aviation Museum) describes itself as "a flying museum." The Commemorative Air Force is a worldwide, all volunteer, non-profit organization dedicated to the preservation of the great warplanes from WWII through the Vietnam War. The Arizona Wing (what civilians would call a "chapter") is located  in Mesa adjoining Falcon Field and has been entrusted with the restoration, care and display of "Sentimental Journey" which is considered to be the most authentically restored flying B-17 in the world. "Sentimental Journey" tours the country and unfortunately, was not there when we went - but they had LOTS of other planes on display.

Planes were EVERYWHERE! Be sure to look up because many are suspended from the ceiling.

The exhibits are well marked with signage that explains in great detail technical information for those interested in and knowledgable about aviation as well as a general description of where and for what purpose the plane was used - something I appreciated! The volunteer docents are retired military, many of whom actually flew or were involved in some way with the aircraft on display. After explaining the lay out of the museum, our docent left us to explore on our own but was available to answer questions.

In addition to the planes, the museum also has quite a few exhibits about things related to flying - like "brain buckets" and famous people. 

It was interesting to compare the helmets aviators have used to those firefighters used in the exhibit I saw at the Hall of Flame a few weeks earlier. In general, it seemed firefighters' helmets were much more substantial at an earlier time and would actually protect them. I guess that's why aviators call theirs "brain buckets!" They seemed to be little more than a head covering for warmth until more recent years.

The Tuskegee Airmen and Women in Aviation exhibits were my two favorites. It was intriguing to me that two minorities fought so hard to have a place in the Air Force. It didn't matter to them that they started waaaay at the bottom and had to claw their way up, having to do their job better and faster than "the good ol' boys." They didn't give up, didn't expect special treatment, didn't whine about it being unfair. Why? Because they wanted to serve their country and that trumped everything else. 

Richard liked this WWII-era Stearman training plane. I prefer my training planes with more... ummm...  plane around them!

Just outside of the museum building, on a huge tarmac, are several more planes and a Huey equipped as it was for use in Viet Nam. It's even more impressive to see these historic planes against the backdrop of Falcon Field with planes taking off and landing.

The plane on the left has its wings folded as if it were on an aircraft carrier. The big cargo plane on the right is so HUGE it seems like it would fall out of the sky, not effortlessly slice through it.

The maintenance hangar is connected to the museum by a hallway. I heard one of the docents refer to it as the "garage" but it's much cleaner than any garage I've been in - I think you could have eaten off the floor! It's where regular maintenance is performed on the planes that are still flown (you can pay for a ride in a B-17 Bomber!!), other planes are restored or modified for exhibit (they drain the oil, for example). The mechanics who care for these old planes are also volunteers.

The stack of tires along one side of the maintenance hangar is the only indication it is a garage!

My grandfather died in 1986, the same year the CAF Aviation Museum opened. I think he would have enjoyed this place - and I know he would have had some great stories to tell me. It is a wonderful place for aviators and those who designed, repaired and maintained the planes to see their "babies" once again. It's also a great place for everyone to learn some history as they look at real military aircraft.

Thumb Up or Down: UP!!

Miles Round Trip: 26.5 miles

Miles To Date: 10,133.3 miles

Percent of List Completed: 88%

Date of This Trip: September 30, 2012