A HEMINGWAYIAN FEAST
I chose this title because this group (me, Roy, Bruce and Tom) and this time in our lives reminded me of the story as told by Ernest Hemingway in The Sun Also Rises. It is my favorite novel and the characters in the story are flawed…as we all are and were in our own particular way. But…the redeeming quality of the book and our friendship was our ‘joie de vivre’. Roy and I always had this stark realization of our mortality and we wanted to cherish our days in the sun. And…we did!!! I found this manuscript after almost twenty years and all but yours truly are dead. I offer this as a lively account of one of our joyous adventures. Cheers!!
Luciano John Ercolini
Trip taken to Graeagle, Ca.
June 18-21, 2001
Lynksters: Luciano J. Ercolini, Roy DeGroot, Tom Gamble and Bruce Smith
Written: July 8, 2001
Edited: July 21, 2018
Finally Completed August 17, 2021
There is nothing more pleasing than to prepare for a golf trip, especially a golf trip to the Lake Tahoe area and the majestic Sierras. The bags come out. Smoothly, easily, with joy and without effort and each garment goes in its right place. The bags go by the front door. The car is washed as are the golf clubs and shoes. All is ready…with care and perfection.
At work every detail is dispatched. No loose ends are left to create problems. All is anticipated. Every precaution possible is taken to prevent that dreaded and intruding phone call once vacation.
The week before departure a phone call to Roy is made. What food to bring? Where will we stay? We’ll meet at Auburn at the biker bar? What courses will we play? It’s all for the pleasure of anticipation and to chat with a good friend about pleasurable events to come. What about Bruce…and Tom?? What booze shall we bring?
I have an escrow which will close sometime during this trip. For the past ten days I’ve tried to speed up Sarah at Bay Capital. She is to get the loan documents to escrow…but Sarah has only one speed. So…all my prodding comes to no avail. Roy sagely advises, ‘Louie, don’t cancel the trip. Work around the problem’. Roy is always right about these things and I heartily proceed to make arrangements to handle any details from the Sierras. Funny thing…..when I seem to have a vacation planned with these guys…I always seem to have a real estate deal of importance. Roy always tells me to plan a vacation every month….it’s a good business plan!!
Monday is departure day! I awaken light hearted and early. All the gear goes into the car. Along the way Pat will call and tell me that I left the olives from Consentino’s on the counter.
“I’ll eat them”, she says and laughs.
I drive to the office, review agenda for the next few days and arrange all details in order. I am satisfied!! I call Roy and tell him that I’m leaving Silicon Valley and will rendezvous with him and the group at noon at Auburn.
“See you at the bar in Auburn”, Roy replies and laughs. I return the phone to the car tray. At one time I didn’t like the idea of carrying a cell phone around. Now it has become a necessity. Concepts and technology change…and quickly…and you have to change with it lest you become a dinosaur.
I stop at American Savings in Sunnyvale for cash. Once on 237 East my mind is at ease. The golden and rolling hills dotted with oaks rise before me. We have traveled this same road numerous times for our golf trips to the Sierras. Each has been different. All have been memorable. Eddy Kimsey relished being with the guys, drinking red wine and savoring the Tahoe area. Billy Drabick did too!! God bless both of their souls. They were good friends. I think of them often.
Beyond Livermore the Altamont Pass and the windmills come into view. I always marvel at the oval ribbon ones. They seem a strange contraption but they turn and seem to work. Today they spin in unison. It’s a strange sight….all that motion and no noise…a bit eerie!!
Ron Owens is on KGO Radio. He makes good background on long trips. I breeze through Sacramento and am surprised that the air conditioner on my decade old Jeep Cherokee works. I notice all details and savor them as I anticipate great fun over the next week. I make good time and soon Auburn comes into view. It’s noon!!
Roy calls, “Where are you, Louie?”.
“Auburn”, I reply.
“Where are you?”
“You’re kidding”, Roy replies. “We are just approaching Vacaville.”
“You guys must have stopped once or even twice for a pop along the way”, I sarcastically add.
And I laugh! And Roy laughs as the guys chortle in the background.
Cell phones make rendezvous easy. While waiting for the guys it was a good opportunity to explore Auburn. Took photos of the barn red firehouse with one of the first and restored volunteer fire engines. Looked closely at the miner statue so visible form the freeway. I strolled through the antique shops. I talked to one of the shop owners for a while. She had relocated to Auburn from the East Bay to be close to her children. She and her husband bought an old house which they just love. They sit, talk and watch passersby from their front porch. She was charming and reminded me of my mother. My phone rang.
‘We are at the bar’, Roy said.
I walked around the corner and there they were. We shook hand and hugged. Tom was in the bathroom so I had to go and surprise him in a moment of humor. It had been a while and it was a wonderful feeling to see old friends. I had been out of Sonoma County for some years. Tom and Roy were both in fine spirit and looked good. Bruce had suffered some malady and had deteriorated greatly since last I saw him. Later I was to discover details of his failing health.
Back on the freeway towards Tahoe Roy in his new SUV took off like the wind. I would see him several cars ahead and then no more. Graeagle is a small and remote town but we all had cell phones now so…I had no concerns about not being able to rendezvous. The names east of Auburn are magical to me since my bicycle trip several years back. Alta, Dutch Flat, Colfax, Cisco Grove, Nyack, Donner Summit. They are all so vivid…the old man who gave me a history tour of Dutch Flat…the proprietress of the bar/restaurant and hotel who took my pictures at Soda Springs. Then there was the iconic fat waitress with the lycra black pants and black head band at the Baxter Café/truck stop. They advertised as the ‘oldest truck stop in Western States. Lumber interest range high here! The menu sardonically boasted white spotted owl and bald eagle recipes. It was a hoot just to sit at the counter and take in all the local color. While finishing my breakfast a truck driver came back to the seat next to me. He was a bit upset. Without any encouragement he began his tale of woes.
‘That damn chick threw my keys in the woods. And….I gotta be in Sacramento by such and such. I picked her up some miles back and we got into a fight. Damn….’
I continued to eat my breakfast and sat quietly.
‘And…damn…today is my wife’s birthday too.’
‘Where you from’? I asked.
‘Salt Lake City’, he replied.
And he huffed and muttered and left to look for his keys. And…I used this opportunity to pay my bill and proceed on my bike adventure. But…it’s always amazed me as to how much stuff people tell you about their lives. Are they just blathering or asking for approval???
At Truckee I tried to raise Roy and the boys but the cell phone had no signal. It was a gorgeous day in the Sierras and the only blemish was a sizeable forest fire east of Truckee which bellowed columns of smoke all the way to the Reno area. Fortunately the smoke carried all in an easterly direction.
North of Truckee on Highway 89 time seems to stand still. The few small towns on the way are just two roads intersecting. To the vacationers’ eye all looks quaint and rustic. It’s just old and dilapidated. I learned this particular discipline of the eye when I visited and later lived in Sonoma County. When I would go for weekends or golf jaunts for a few days all looked quaint and dreamy. However…when I moved up to the Santa Rosa area I began to see the seediness of all the structures. What had been quaint in a visit wasn’t so inviting when it was home. Just a perspective….and fortunately….Patricia and I were able to leave and start a new and exciting life in Silicon Valley.
The locals have a healthy indifference to vacationers as we were to discover. Stores, the few that exist, maintain hours to suit themselves. It’s a slow life style. Customer service is viewed differently. The high plains and meadows forested with pine and running streams are the lure of the area. Who cares about the lack of conveniences?
At Graeagle I stop at Graeagle Golf Course to check the parking lot for Roy’s Darth Phadermobile. His car is not visible. Cell phone is not working In this remote area. I drive through town and check out all the bars. No Roy car! To Plumas Pines Golf Course….no Roy car. I went to the source….the real estate office that booked our condos. The good lady was able to track down the guys. They had checked in and stowed their stuff. I went to the condo and found the garage door open. No guys though!! I stuck a note on the door and headed back into town.
Sitting in front of the Knotty Pine Tavern on main street Graeagle Bruce waved me down.
“The boys are inside whooping it up’, he said.
I chatted with Bruce for a few minutes but could see that he was not feeling well and definitely not in a party mood.
Tom and Roy were in the bar engaged in a heavy conversation with the bartender.
“You guys trying to lose me or what”, I said.
No reply came but Roy in his usual generous style motioned to the bartender to pour me a wine.
“Louie”, Roy said, “sit down and have a nice wine. It’s good to see you.”
Tom gave me a hug and soon we were enmeshed in friendly banter as though no time had elapsed since I had moved out of Sonoma County. Roy pointed to the tourist map on the wall. That gave us a shot of energy and laughter. We recounted that night when Roy and I asked the bartender how to get to the Green Door. We used that artistic map as a guide. We traveled up Johnsonville Road three times and each of the first two times we came back to the tavern convinced that we had headed in the wrong direction. Finally….we travelled all the way to the end of the road and found the restaurant. Of course….with each return to the Knotty Pine Tavern Roy and I had a drink. Perhaps that explained our failure to navigate properly. There are few things in life as joyful as good friends renewing their bond of togetherness.
We stowed the food and baggage at the condo situated by the ninth hole of Plumas Pines Golf Course. It’s a peaceful and calming setting on the deck overlooking clear ponds with lots of cattails and wetland vegetation and mountains rising sharply beyond. Occasionally a golf group would take the tee. It was very easy to sit and look and absorb the entire vista. Blackbirds with bright red markings on the wing would fly close to the water and come to rest on the cattails. Everyone chose a room and I lucked out. My room was the master suite upstairs with my own bathroom. The accommodations were perfect.
It was almost six when we arrived at Graeagle Meadows Golf Course. The lady at the pro shop insisted that no carts were to go out after 6pm. Fortunately we had Tom. He calmly and suavely explained to her something or other and when the schmoozing was done we proceeded to the first hole with our carts loaded and ready to go. It was a short course with mostly par threes and we only played nine holes. We were just loosening up before dinner.
This time we found the Green Door Restaurant immediately. She had said that we needed reservations but when we arrived the place was empty. We sat, ordered and paid. It was the end of their season and wanted to close so we complied gracefully and left as we were tired.
I awoke early the next day. There is something pure about rising at first light in the high Sierras-clean, clear, bright, fresh and green with nary a sound. The scenery is crisp. I began to cook bacon and soon the whole condo filled with its redolence. Hot croissants, coffee, toast, jam and scrambled eggs soon followed. By now everyone was up. Tom and Bruce were chatting out on the deck while Roy was watching the stock market stuff. At breakfast all had a voice in establishing the bets for the day. We were to play skins over the two day period.
The golf courses in Plumas County rate close to the top in the world of golf-dom. Perhaps they do not possess the majestic scenery of an Edgewood or Incline Village around Lake Tahoe. Nor are they as spectacular as those on the historic Monterey Peninsula. They do possess natural beauty-grand vistas of the rugged mountains, meandering streams with crystal waters, Ponderosa pines. Al this and golf too!!!
We warmed up at the Plumas Pines driving range. This is the time for some seriousness. Since none of us have command over our swing the first few minutes on the practice range is a harbinger for the day’s golf. Before a ball is struck there is the hope and expectation of perfection; after a few swings we accept reality. We all establish our rhythm-first the irons, driver and some puts. We gathered on the elevated first tee with the fairways below us in the warmth of the morning sun with spirits high anticipating great golf and friendly banter.
With the crack of the first drive the game was on. Concentration and strategies were at play. Out of bounds and formerly picturesque waters now were our doom. The stunning scenery of the Feather River area faded to the shots at hand. “Nice Shot, Roy! Good put, Tom” Bruce sinks another long one. Laughter, cajoling and some sarcasm abounds. I hear Bruce to my chagrin; “What kept that out’ as my put is ridiculously wide and long. But it’s all in the envelope of fun and friendship and the tally of the scorecard reveals the usual scores.
It was the double vodka that did it. Roy, somewhat behind on the bet, stopped at the turn and bought double drinks for all of us. Sneaky devil…..he came up with the equalizer. The vodka was active. Back at the condo Bruce wanted to rest but the rest of us felt a yearning for the Mohawk Tavern.
It’s a log cabin painted barn red situated on a blind curve on Johnsonville Road. Once inside the darkness obscures all. Perhaps done for a good reason! One must navigate the floor with care. I’m sure that the regulars don’t notice; they know the low spots. We sat at one of the tables; the bar was full even though it was the early afternoon. Some of the patrons had teeth; most the guys wore jeans and t shirts. The bartender served us a round and brought dice. We stayed long enough to compile the scores and settle bets but then Tom suggested the pool bar at the River Pines Resort.
On our first trips we had rented a cabin near the pool area. We tried to book here on this trip but alas it was full. It’s a nice motel with rustic log cabins, spacious grounds and a pool with outdoor bar and recreation area-ideal for families on vacation with kids free to safely roam the grounds, swim and play ping pong. It’s a beautiful and wholesome scene. So…..in we come and take seats around the corner of the bar. Tom is already schmoozing with the bartender. No one I’m sure made references to ‘lap dancing’ or ‘calling Cindy’ or such. I’m sure??? Some kids were playing ping pong and Roy made reference when last we were her and our attempt at the game. When the kids were done Roy and I took a turn at the table. Simple, playful afternoons are most fun and memorable. A couple of the kids challenged us to a game and Roy and I accepted. Tom was leaning forward at the bar still talking to the bartender. I pointed to the shuffleboard table in the corner and Roy laughed as he remembered the Christmas lunch I had organized from Lorenzo’s Restaurant. About ten of us (Jim Maloney, Roy, me, Mike Rocchi, Reed King, Bruce, et al) lunched at Catelli’s in Geyserville. Afterwards we drove to Burce’s new bar and ended up playing shuffleboard with a mother and daughter……about 60 & 80 years old. The mother was semi blind and Reed King and I lost about $100 to them. Hmmm….maybe we were blind too??? Tom was still sitting at the bar and seriously talking to the bartender.
As Roy and I played shuffleboard Tom rose from the bar, steadied himself, walked to the ping pong table and had a game with one of the kids. The vodka was at play: Some of the shots he fanned by a foot or more. The shuffleboard was unique; it had a crest on one end sloping to either side. We had to get used to it but the kids already knew.
Tom sauntered over and began to render ‘play by play’. Next I see Roy helping him remove his shirt, hat and sunglasses. Then…..a hop, a slight stumble over the two steps and a lurch over the side of the pool. Tom did a fine belly flop then disappeared with the rest in the pool. There was a suspenseful stillness as we all watched. When last we saw his tennis shoes disappear in the water hearty laughter resounded.
Roy was chuckling!
“Atta boy, Tom! Nice form!”
After a hearty nap Tom barbequed the filets and Roy and I put together the rest of the dinner. We feasted on shrimp cocktails, Caesar salad, sautéed prawns, filets, roasted potatoes and string beans. There is nothing better than a quality dinner prepared at home after a full day of fun. Needless to say we all slept soundly that evening.
The next day after breakfast we drove to White Hawk Golf Course, the premier course of the area. It was another twenty four karat gold day spent in the splendor of the high Sierras sunshine, strolling through a fine course and basking in the warmth of friendship. Truly a quality moment of life!
After golf we searched in vain for lotto tickets. We were more successful with our search for cigarettes. Stores in this remote area close early or when they want. We drove up Gold Mountain to survey a new course in the area, Nakoma the Dragon situated on a mountain top miles from nowhere, signs of future homes are apparent and of course first in priority is the golf course and club house. A stunning setting!! On the crest of a mountain in Indian and oriental motif the club house and pro shop command fine natural vistas. The golf course meanders on the slopes below. God knows what devilish shots await us. The interior is rustic elegance. The bar is small, warm and friendly. To the rear is a courtyard where we sat and chatted enjoying the natural beauty of the setting.
We ate at the restaurant by the pool bar that evening. Preparations for the next day were done. I was to leave early and they at their leisure.
When I awoke early Roy was up and cleaning the kitchen. When Tom rose I had completed loading my car. We shook hands warmly and vowed to do it again soon.
“The Dragon’, I said. “Say good-by to Bruce for me.”
As I left Graeagle I noted that my gas tank was empty. The next little town was 19 miles away. I think there was a gas station there. If I run out of gas the boys will pick me up.
Along old US 40 running parallel to US 80 is one of my favorite roadhouses, the Rainbow Lodge. (In subsequent years I have bicycled this road from Truckee and is truly a halcyon world for those who have a passion for biking.) The setting and architecture are reminiscent of the Alps. The dining room is rustic of stone with ceiling of polished wood and iron décor. I enjoyed a robust breakfast of pancakes, bacon and their natural spring water. As I left I bought a round of bloody maries for the boys whom I knew would stop later.
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