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My Texas Adventures
I have been following Susan Polgar's Daily News blog [http://web.chessdailynews.com/category/susans-personal-blog/] with interest for quite some time and have been intensely curious as to what has been going on at Texas Tech (specifically SPICE or Susan Polgar's Institute for Chess Excellence) in Lubbock, Texas.In her SPICE tournament (she has been running high quality international tournaments since 2007) she added a new section - FIDE Open Rated - and I decided it was time for me to travel down and see things first-hand. Shopping around online I discovered that Greyhound had a 15 day Discovery pass (travel anywhere unlimited in North America during 15 days) for about $350 and as I had planned to go to Lubbock, Texas and after to the Grand Canyon and total flights would cost me over $1000 I decided on the bus deal without considering repercussions.The bus trip took me through Detroit, Cincinnati, Louisville, Nashville, Memphis and on to Dallas and finally an all night run across Texas from Dallas to Lubbock, more than 52 hours in total. The difference between Canadian Greyhound and American Greyhound is ominous. On boarding in Detroit the driver made a short speech: Besides alcohol, drugs, profane language, and smoking being prohibited - loud conversations both on and off cell phones were prohibited. The driver would give one warning then on next offence he would pull the bus over and the offender would be escorted off the bus by the state troopers. I actually saw a graphic example of that in Arkansas and my exposure to the grassroots of America (its average Greyhound travellers) through those cities was to say the least not pleasant.
Story from all-nighter out of Dallas
One eye opening adventure occurred on the all-nighter out of Dallas. Shortly before the bus pulled out a real character got on the bus. Dressed in a classy white leather Stetson and with a form fitting Levi shirt and jeans and alligator boots, he was a "real" Texan cowboy. A little worse for drink he still managed an incredible amount of charm and tipping his hat and murmuring compliments to every lady on the bus he swaggered to the rear. I managed a short nap and awoke later to a curious sight. At the rear of the bus a group of five interesting characters had managed to find their own entertainment. They had upended what looked like an old metal ashtray and placed a cafeteria style plastic tray on top. The cards were flying and a poker game was in progress. The cowboy, an older gentleman in a much worn suit who looked like a used car salesman, an aging hippy with a beard, a young gangly student, and a really old gentleman with very few teeth in his smile were what I saw when I went back for a closer look - and all 5 were smoking! (one of them a cigar). The cowboy invited me to join them - said he liked my flavor (whatever that means). I went back to my seat to get my camera and when I came back the cowboy said "you can take a picture but then I'll have to kill you". The things that go on through a Texan night. They played until about an hour before the bus arrived in Lubbock.
First impressions of Lubbock
My first sight of Lubbock was pleasantly interesting - the bus terminal was a modern terminal designed with wings in four directions and made from beautiful brownish pink brick in the Spanish style. Although it was only 6:30am and still quite dark I knew the mood of my journey had changed when I was greeted by Cat Stevens "It's a wide world" followed by two Stevie Nicks classics and two Buddy Holly tunes on the PA system.
Lubbock is an interesting, divided city. Several years ago a tornado wiped out the entire north east end of the city. After the rubble was eventually cleared what ended up being rebuilt on the land was city, state, federal, and educational buildings only so the result was the odd building as well as very large parking lots and many empty lots spread over a section of at least two square miles. As a result of the tornado almost the entire residential and business district was relocated to the west end past the area where Texas Tech University is. In effect you have a divided city - the east end shuts down after 5pm and in effect becomes a ghost town and the vibrant west end.
My lucky booking on the internet was a very cheap motel on Avenue Q which is the divider of the east and west end. It turned out to entirely suit my purposes as it had a Walmart 100 yards away and a Denny's across the street. My initial walk from the bus station (about one mile) was through the ghost town as it was before anything opened at 8 am. The walk to Texas Tech (where the SPICE tournament was being held) westwards was much more pleasant. It was a little over a mile through student housing and then the university grounds.
FIDE Open
The FIDE Open which I was playing in started at 5pm that day first round, with 3 rounds the next day and 2 on the following. The only grandmaster tournament in progress when I arrived was the SPICE A section with GMs Dominguez, Le Quang Liem, Feller, Shulman, Meier, and Robson - a double round robin of 2600 and 2700 GMs. (two other sections of mainly GMs and IMs had already finished). I tried to ask for a first round bye due to tiredness but Susan Polgar herself with great charm and persuasiveness talked me out of it. Meeting Paul Truong and Dr. Hal Karlsson for the first time gave me a burst of energy as they are excellent hosts, great conversationalists, and lots of fun to be around. (Paul is Susan's "silent"partner and husband and website guru and Dr. Karlsson is the originator of SPICE). However as Murphy's Law would have it my first round game turned into a marathon where I absolutely refused to win (the longest game of the round), ran out of energy, and somehow swindled a miraculous draw.
Susan Polgar presenting first prize to Jeffrey Xiong. Jeffrey's dad (very nice man, sharp mind) behind Jeffrey. Typical grandmasters (Dominguez and Shulman) engrossed in their position. I admit I was watching analysis as I was taking the photo...
My lucky booking on the internet was a very cheap motel on Avenue Q which is the divider of the east and west end. It turned out to entirely suit my purposes as it had a Walmart 100 yards away and a Denny's across the street. My initial walk from the bus station (about one mile) was through the ghost town as it was before anything opened at 8 am. The walk to Texas Tech (where the SPICE tournament was being held) westwards was much more pleasant. It was a little over a mile through student housing and then the university grounds.
FIDE Open
The FIDE Open which I was playing in started at 5pm that day first round, with 3 rounds the next day and 2 on the following. The only grandmaster tournament in progress when I arrived was the SPICE A section with GMs Dominguez, Le Quang Liem, Feller, Shulman, Meier, and Robson - a double round robin of 2600 and 2700 GMs. (two other sections of mainly GMs and IMs had already finished). I tried to ask for a first round bye due to tiredness but Susan Polgar herself with great charm and persuasiveness talked me out of it. Meeting Paul Truong and Dr. Hal Karlsson for the first time gave me a burst of energy as they are excellent hosts, great conversationalists, and lots of fun to be around. (Paul is Susan's "silent"partner and husband and website guru and Dr. Karlsson is the originator of SPICE). However as Murphy's Law would have it my first round game turned into a marathon where I absolutely refused to win (the longest game of the round), ran out of energy, and somehow swindled a miraculous draw.
Susan Polgar presenting first prize to Jeffrey Xiong. Jeffrey's dad (very nice man, sharp mind) behind Jeffrey. Typical grandmasters (Dominguez and Shulman) engrossed in their position. I admit I was watching analysis as I was taking the photo...
All of the GM's were friendly, although to me the most so was Sebastian Feller and he and Le Quang Liem were the only ones to discuss positions with me blindfold although I must admit they lost me in their analysis. I sat in on quite a few analysis sessions and every question that I ventured was answered, some to my chagrin.
I thought Lenier Dominguez was going to win the tournament but as fate had it he and Le Quang Liem had to play each other in the last round and Liem won the game and the tournament with a nice tactical finish (Q and B on the long diagonal lined up against the black king - but you'll have to look it up because I dont have the game handy)
Le Quang Liem was there with his mother and she was very nervous about his games to the point where when I went up to look at the position the first few times she would follow me up and stare at me but after talking to her I found out she was a very nice lady.
Georg Meier is a very interesting young Grandmaster from Germany. Turns out he is studying at Texas Tech. When I tried to find out his background I was amazed to discover he is from the same region as my grandmother - a small town in Germany - but even small towns there seem to have at least one strong ex-Soviet trainer and a good chess club and also amazing is that he had never played in a German Championship.
Sebastien Feller would go around at the beginning of the day and shake everybody's hands. At first I thought he was campaigning for a FIDE position but it quickly became apparent that he was just a very nice outgoing young guy.
Yury Shulman was very modest and down to earth. When I asked him during the analysis of the last round game what went wrong he said it started in round two and had continued ever since.
Ray Robson was very serious about his games but whenever he got the chance he liked to have fun and his favorite person to have fun with was Tommy Polgar. I managed a few leads about blindfold chess and it resulted in him playing a member of the Texas Tech Knight Raiders a blindfold 3 minute game. Several things about that wowed me! First of all he rattled moves off in the opening past move 15 and at move 25 according to him he was still in theory. He found the crispest moves to finish and used less than a minute 30 for the whole game. The game can be found on YouTube.
Andre Diamant had played in another section (C) but showed up with his young son for the birthday party( also farewell party) They were a hit. Andre forever with the jokes and witty anecdotes.
Denes Boros played in the B section but also showed up for the farewell party. He is Hungarian, a real character, and studies at Texas Tech. I first met him when he was playing speed chess with Ray Robson. To me Ray is an awesome speed player but Denes demolished him in more than one game I was watching but to be fair to Ray the overall score was apparently equal. I had a chance for an in depth conversation with him - somehow the conversation turned to music and we compared notes on Jethro Tull, Pink Floyd, and the Doors - it was surreal. (he's about 20 - I'm in my 50's)
I thought Lenier Dominguez was going to win the tournament but as fate had it he and Le Quang Liem had to play each other in the last round and Liem won the game and the tournament with a nice tactical finish (Q and B on the long diagonal lined up against the black king - but you'll have to look it up because I dont have the game handy)
Le Quang Liem was there with his mother and she was very nervous about his games to the point where when I went up to look at the position the first few times she would follow me up and stare at me but after talking to her I found out she was a very nice lady.
Georg Meier is a very interesting young Grandmaster from Germany. Turns out he is studying at Texas Tech. When I tried to find out his background I was amazed to discover he is from the same region as my grandmother - a small town in Germany - but even small towns there seem to have at least one strong ex-Soviet trainer and a good chess club and also amazing is that he had never played in a German Championship.
Sebastien Feller would go around at the beginning of the day and shake everybody's hands. At first I thought he was campaigning for a FIDE position but it quickly became apparent that he was just a very nice outgoing young guy.
Yury Shulman was very modest and down to earth. When I asked him during the analysis of the last round game what went wrong he said it started in round two and had continued ever since.
Ray Robson was very serious about his games but whenever he got the chance he liked to have fun and his favorite person to have fun with was Tommy Polgar. I managed a few leads about blindfold chess and it resulted in him playing a member of the Texas Tech Knight Raiders a blindfold 3 minute game. Several things about that wowed me! First of all he rattled moves off in the opening past move 15 and at move 25 according to him he was still in theory. He found the crispest moves to finish and used less than a minute 30 for the whole game. The game can be found on YouTube.
Andre Diamant had played in another section (C) but showed up with his young son for the birthday party( also farewell party) They were a hit. Andre forever with the jokes and witty anecdotes.
Denes Boros played in the B section but also showed up for the farewell party. He is Hungarian, a real character, and studies at Texas Tech. I first met him when he was playing speed chess with Ray Robson. To me Ray is an awesome speed player but Denes demolished him in more than one game I was watching but to be fair to Ray the overall score was apparently equal. I had a chance for an in depth conversation with him - somehow the conversation turned to music and we compared notes on Jethro Tull, Pink Floyd, and the Doors - it was surreal. (he's about 20 - I'm in my 50's)
Bus adventures
(This is for Neil) Detroit bus terminal has large barbed wire fences surrounding and 80% or more Afro American passengers. Outside is the ghetto (or seems like). We drove thru pouring rain the first night actually until the next morning approaching Memphis.
The bus stations in Cincinnati and Louisville are modern and no gating but much signage. Same as Detroit regarding passengers. "No admittance beyond this point", "No trespassing", "Do not cross this line" are in abundance.
You were not allowed to walk in the loading bays and the departure doors from the main terminal were locked until 5 minutes before departure. You absolutely had to wait in line. There was a mania for high security.
I couldn't walk anywhere to stretch my legs- the best I could manage was back and forth at a slow pace across the terminal twenty times to sort of stretch my legs - I couldn't leave the property. In all the stations until Dallas there was nothing good to eat - at best a sleazy snackbar.
In Nashville a deputy sheriff and his deputies (3 big old boys with guns) stood and surveyed the crowd of passengers. We were there for over an hour and they were there with us. Why? The snackbar was awful - the coffee was worse. Surely there were better places for policing.
The driver from Louisville was a big friendly Afro American who tried to convey that he was friends with everyone (until he made the speech about pulling over and being escorted off by the state troopers). He drove like a maniac to Nashville and shortly after leaving Louisville opened both front side windows probably to stay awake but the howling wind and spray coming in were not conducive to passengers sleep.
Our first white driver was in Nashville. He talked to any passengers who would listen. Apparently there had been a glitch in driver rotation, he was on his day off but was getting double time so was in a good mood. He was from Jackson, Tennessee (close to Memphis) so we had to sit in that whistle stop for an extra 20 minutes while he entertained the locals on the front bench with some down home stories.
I got my first real meal since leaving Canada in Memphis. There was a Denny's half a block from the bus station. I had grits and a Spanish omelette and bottomless coffee and took another full meal to go.
Jim Lewis
Jim Lewis was my fellow traveller from Detroit to Dallas. I met him in the Detroit bus terminal and ended up sitting together. Worked out well because I'm a big guy and he is at least 50 pounds lighter and 6 inches shorter. We were crammed in like sardines from Detroit to at least Louisville. My knees were pressed into one corner and the seat in front of me and couldn't move.
Jim was ok with half on the seat and jutting out into the aisle. Jim owns a spread in Colorado (a 20 acre horse farm). His wife had passed away last year and he was just coming back from truckdriver training in the eastern US. His plan was to work driving truck for 5 years and pay off his mortgage so he could sell his property and buy the dream property in Oregon in the mountains with a fishing stream running thru it and close to the kids.
Jim had been an outdoorsman all his life and has lived in most of the western states. His stories about fishing, hiking (Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Rockies etc) and trips on his Harley Davidson and with his kids kept me going on the long trip. Maybe he was stretching it a bit with the fishing stories but there is nothing like interesting conversation to help pass time in an unbearable situation. Another thing that helped me was playing chess games over in my head. If I could retain the positions clearly I felt better at the end but if I tried more than two an hour I started to feel worse.
(This is for Neil) Detroit bus terminal has large barbed wire fences surrounding and 80% or more Afro American passengers. Outside is the ghetto (or seems like). We drove thru pouring rain the first night actually until the next morning approaching Memphis.
The bus stations in Cincinnati and Louisville are modern and no gating but much signage. Same as Detroit regarding passengers. "No admittance beyond this point", "No trespassing", "Do not cross this line" are in abundance.
You were not allowed to walk in the loading bays and the departure doors from the main terminal were locked until 5 minutes before departure. You absolutely had to wait in line. There was a mania for high security.
I couldn't walk anywhere to stretch my legs- the best I could manage was back and forth at a slow pace across the terminal twenty times to sort of stretch my legs - I couldn't leave the property. In all the stations until Dallas there was nothing good to eat - at best a sleazy snackbar.
In Nashville a deputy sheriff and his deputies (3 big old boys with guns) stood and surveyed the crowd of passengers. We were there for over an hour and they were there with us. Why? The snackbar was awful - the coffee was worse. Surely there were better places for policing.
The driver from Louisville was a big friendly Afro American who tried to convey that he was friends with everyone (until he made the speech about pulling over and being escorted off by the state troopers). He drove like a maniac to Nashville and shortly after leaving Louisville opened both front side windows probably to stay awake but the howling wind and spray coming in were not conducive to passengers sleep.
Our first white driver was in Nashville. He talked to any passengers who would listen. Apparently there had been a glitch in driver rotation, he was on his day off but was getting double time so was in a good mood. He was from Jackson, Tennessee (close to Memphis) so we had to sit in that whistle stop for an extra 20 minutes while he entertained the locals on the front bench with some down home stories.
I got my first real meal since leaving Canada in Memphis. There was a Denny's half a block from the bus station. I had grits and a Spanish omelette and bottomless coffee and took another full meal to go.
Jim Lewis
Jim Lewis was my fellow traveller from Detroit to Dallas. I met him in the Detroit bus terminal and ended up sitting together. Worked out well because I'm a big guy and he is at least 50 pounds lighter and 6 inches shorter. We were crammed in like sardines from Detroit to at least Louisville. My knees were pressed into one corner and the seat in front of me and couldn't move.
Jim was ok with half on the seat and jutting out into the aisle. Jim owns a spread in Colorado (a 20 acre horse farm). His wife had passed away last year and he was just coming back from truckdriver training in the eastern US. His plan was to work driving truck for 5 years and pay off his mortgage so he could sell his property and buy the dream property in Oregon in the mountains with a fishing stream running thru it and close to the kids.
Jim had been an outdoorsman all his life and has lived in most of the western states. His stories about fishing, hiking (Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Rockies etc) and trips on his Harley Davidson and with his kids kept me going on the long trip. Maybe he was stretching it a bit with the fishing stories but there is nothing like interesting conversation to help pass time in an unbearable situation. Another thing that helped me was playing chess games over in my head. If I could retain the positions clearly I felt better at the end but if I tried more than two an hour I started to feel worse.
More travelling and colourful characters
Memphis is a city that I hope to check out more in the future. There is a interesting pyramid in the downtown that I would like to know more about. Also travelling over the Mississippi produced an astounding view to all sides.
After the Mississippi came Arkansas - really a beautiful countryside with small rolling hills, streams, lots of woodland, and nice stretches of homesteads.
Our new driver (back to Afro American) was a character using the mike with his rolling, lilting southern accent to tell quick jokes, try to get the passengers to join him in a sing-a-long, and point out various interesting features of the countryside just like a good tour guide.
We picked up a lot of new passengers in Little Rock.
About 20 miles out I was startled to hear a string of profanity from a woman at the back of the bus and then the driver: "What the hell" and then: "Woman you can stop right now" and then the driver immediately got on his cell phone and a couple of minutes later we pulled off the interstate onto a secondary highway and then a run down village and a potholed main road which rapidly deteriorated into a gravel road and then a dirt track.
After a few turns we ended up in front of a run down warehouse which was the local Greyhound depot. The driver than made an announcement: "Woman you wait here. You will soon get your escort.” About ten minutes later a sheriff's vehicle and three other white cars squealed to a halt in front of the bus. A young white guy (looked about 20 but could be anywhere in his 20's) with a sheriff's badge came onto the bus followed by two deputies who were Afro American and were both over 300 pounds (ex footballers). They were so big they had to shuffle down the aisle sideways. Shortly after the sound of a slap was heard and then more profanity. The sheriff came back with his hand locked in a death grip around the throat of a young lady. His face and arms were flushed deep red and he kept repeating "Ma'am - don't you ever do that again" The lady in question was extremely good looking but had too many muscles from working out. He threw her on the ground and put another set of handcuffs on her just above the elbows and then dragged her over to the police car and smashed her head on the roof before putting her in the back.
Apparently she had slapped him across the face before he put the initial set of handcuffs on her wrists. The locals on the bus kept up the rhubarb all the way to Texarkana (on the Texan border) " She's gonna get hers. Oh boy" Slappin the sheriff - wait for the old judge" She thinks she's tough oh lordy" etc etc.
My entry into Texas was unforgettable. A two hour flaming red sunset that went on and on and on and the bus continued to drive into. The kind of sunset that made everything glow that it touched - longest I have ever seen.
Just after dark we drove into Mount Pleasant Texas - the smallest Greyhound Depot I have ever seen - literally a 5 ft cube of weathered wood and a two foot wide wooden porch with a running dog sign hanging from the roof. Even though the place was closed (and seemed closed permanently) a young couple was waiting to get on - modern day hippies with rings through everything.
Dallas was huge - sprawling on and on in every direction with interestingly designed buildings - more than one architect won awards for those buildings Im sure. The Greyhound Depot downtown was a meeting point of the entire multicultural spectrum. At one end was a really neat snackbar/cafe. The food was surprisingly quite good, reasonably priced and pleasantly handled by attractive, outgoing Spanish American girls.
During the midnight run from Dallas to Lubbock we passed many interesting town names along the way. One of the male passengers wanted to know the name of each town along the way and a big black girl (who had a cute baby) indulged him (I think he just liked hearing her voice) Rope, Bolt, Crossing X, Sundry, Smoke etc. (probably the first thing the first white guy saw became the town name.)
About midway on the trip I must have drifted off because I came to and the bus was stopped beside a dilapidated adobe shack (abandoned?) with part of the roof caved in and an open doorway. The driver was pumping gas into the bus from a single old pump. Where else would you see something like that, a Greyhound driver pumping his own gas?
I think the bus trip was physically dangerous for me. My feet, ankles and calves swelled up to almost twice their normal size, I couldn't get my shoes back on. By instinct I hobbled around the Lubbock bus depot (outside) at least a dozen times immediately after getting off the bus, even tho extremely painful it resided afterwards into a numbness which was bearable but the swelling did not go fully away for two days.
Memphis is a city that I hope to check out more in the future. There is a interesting pyramid in the downtown that I would like to know more about. Also travelling over the Mississippi produced an astounding view to all sides.
After the Mississippi came Arkansas - really a beautiful countryside with small rolling hills, streams, lots of woodland, and nice stretches of homesteads.
Our new driver (back to Afro American) was a character using the mike with his rolling, lilting southern accent to tell quick jokes, try to get the passengers to join him in a sing-a-long, and point out various interesting features of the countryside just like a good tour guide.
We picked up a lot of new passengers in Little Rock.
About 20 miles out I was startled to hear a string of profanity from a woman at the back of the bus and then the driver: "What the hell" and then: "Woman you can stop right now" and then the driver immediately got on his cell phone and a couple of minutes later we pulled off the interstate onto a secondary highway and then a run down village and a potholed main road which rapidly deteriorated into a gravel road and then a dirt track.
After a few turns we ended up in front of a run down warehouse which was the local Greyhound depot. The driver than made an announcement: "Woman you wait here. You will soon get your escort.” About ten minutes later a sheriff's vehicle and three other white cars squealed to a halt in front of the bus. A young white guy (looked about 20 but could be anywhere in his 20's) with a sheriff's badge came onto the bus followed by two deputies who were Afro American and were both over 300 pounds (ex footballers). They were so big they had to shuffle down the aisle sideways. Shortly after the sound of a slap was heard and then more profanity. The sheriff came back with his hand locked in a death grip around the throat of a young lady. His face and arms were flushed deep red and he kept repeating "Ma'am - don't you ever do that again" The lady in question was extremely good looking but had too many muscles from working out. He threw her on the ground and put another set of handcuffs on her just above the elbows and then dragged her over to the police car and smashed her head on the roof before putting her in the back.
Apparently she had slapped him across the face before he put the initial set of handcuffs on her wrists. The locals on the bus kept up the rhubarb all the way to Texarkana (on the Texan border) " She's gonna get hers. Oh boy" Slappin the sheriff - wait for the old judge" She thinks she's tough oh lordy" etc etc.
My entry into Texas was unforgettable. A two hour flaming red sunset that went on and on and on and the bus continued to drive into. The kind of sunset that made everything glow that it touched - longest I have ever seen.
Just after dark we drove into Mount Pleasant Texas - the smallest Greyhound Depot I have ever seen - literally a 5 ft cube of weathered wood and a two foot wide wooden porch with a running dog sign hanging from the roof. Even though the place was closed (and seemed closed permanently) a young couple was waiting to get on - modern day hippies with rings through everything.
Dallas was huge - sprawling on and on in every direction with interestingly designed buildings - more than one architect won awards for those buildings Im sure. The Greyhound Depot downtown was a meeting point of the entire multicultural spectrum. At one end was a really neat snackbar/cafe. The food was surprisingly quite good, reasonably priced and pleasantly handled by attractive, outgoing Spanish American girls.
During the midnight run from Dallas to Lubbock we passed many interesting town names along the way. One of the male passengers wanted to know the name of each town along the way and a big black girl (who had a cute baby) indulged him (I think he just liked hearing her voice) Rope, Bolt, Crossing X, Sundry, Smoke etc. (probably the first thing the first white guy saw became the town name.)
About midway on the trip I must have drifted off because I came to and the bus was stopped beside a dilapidated adobe shack (abandoned?) with part of the roof caved in and an open doorway. The driver was pumping gas into the bus from a single old pump. Where else would you see something like that, a Greyhound driver pumping his own gas?
I think the bus trip was physically dangerous for me. My feet, ankles and calves swelled up to almost twice their normal size, I couldn't get my shoes back on. By instinct I hobbled around the Lubbock bus depot (outside) at least a dozen times immediately after getting off the bus, even tho extremely painful it resided afterwards into a numbness which was bearable but the swelling did not go fully away for two days.
Lubbock and Texas Tech
One of the main streets in Lubbock (the Broadway) ended naturally in this long boulevard. The central commons is over a mile long, and has enough room for as large and lovely a parade as you could want.
As I mentioned earlier a tornado wiped out the north east of Lubbock some years ago. What was spared was Broadway Avenue, the first street south of the destruction. Interestingly on that street from the grounds of Texas Tech to Avenue Q (a distance of about 1 mile) exist most of the churches of Lubbock. Coincidence, maybe. I enjoyed my walks along that street as it was the most picturesque in the area. It had also the most popular taco bar in the area. Literally cheap beer and a few choices of Mexican food - a great hit with the locals - far more "blue collar" than students. With the exception of Denny's I did all my eating on campus. The quality of the food was good and also cheap - an example: filling pasta dishes for $4. The service was good and the scenery exceptional (I'm partial to younger athletic looking, attractive women). After my first meal there I wanted desert - namely ice cream. I admit I have cravings at times for butterscotch. I couldn't for the life of me get a cone (apparently there is a separate franchise somewhere else in the building for ice cream). So I ordered a butterscotch milkshake. I was astounded to see the server walk over to a freezer and put in 5 large scoops of butterscotch ice cream into the large cup before adding other ingredients and mixing. Cost $2.45. The next time I watched she put in 5 large scoops of butterscotch and I said "hold it - I'll take it as is" - Beating the system - priceless.
One of the main streets in Lubbock (the Broadway) ended naturally in this long boulevard. The central commons is over a mile long, and has enough room for as large and lovely a parade as you could want.
As I mentioned earlier a tornado wiped out the north east of Lubbock some years ago. What was spared was Broadway Avenue, the first street south of the destruction. Interestingly on that street from the grounds of Texas Tech to Avenue Q (a distance of about 1 mile) exist most of the churches of Lubbock. Coincidence, maybe. I enjoyed my walks along that street as it was the most picturesque in the area. It had also the most popular taco bar in the area. Literally cheap beer and a few choices of Mexican food - a great hit with the locals - far more "blue collar" than students. With the exception of Denny's I did all my eating on campus. The quality of the food was good and also cheap - an example: filling pasta dishes for $4. The service was good and the scenery exceptional (I'm partial to younger athletic looking, attractive women). After my first meal there I wanted desert - namely ice cream. I admit I have cravings at times for butterscotch. I couldn't for the life of me get a cone (apparently there is a separate franchise somewhere else in the building for ice cream). So I ordered a butterscotch milkshake. I was astounded to see the server walk over to a freezer and put in 5 large scoops of butterscotch ice cream into the large cup before adding other ingredients and mixing. Cost $2.45. The next time I watched she put in 5 large scoops of butterscotch and I said "hold it - I'll take it as is" - Beating the system - priceless.
The weather in Lubbock kept getting better each day - warmer by 5 degrees at least - the last day it went over 90 (almost 35 C) and dry heat - the best kind -none of our summer humidity. It was a real pleasure to walk back and forth to campus.
Outdoor Chess Tables
I discovered the outdoor chess tables on my third day. In terms of location, design, looks, and even cleanliness they are far superior to the ones here at Kitchener City Hall. They are located right beside the university library and strategically set so that they are in the shade by mid afternoon.
Dr. Karlsson at the outdoor tables. We had stimulating conversation both before and after the photo. The building behind was the university library, a wonderful happening place.
The tables themselves are together by twos with benches (so bughouse can be played) which is far better for social chess and communication. One table at the end has no benches - the wheelchair designate. Altogether there are seven. Each bench has a gold plated plaque with famous chess sayings - example: Bobby Fischer: "chess is life" ; Johann Goethe: "chess is the touchstone of the intellect" ; Susan Polgar: "win with grace, lose with dignity" etc. Only thing is they were underutilized.
The entire time I was there no one played on them with the exception when I talked a passerby into playing there. I mentioned that they needed a chess coordinator and I hope they realize and follow through.
On the second day of play in my tournament I blundered away two out of three of my games (although in one my opponent returned the favor) so I finally could fully relax and enjoy more of my surroundings.
On the Sunday morning after a glorious walk to the tournament I discovered that there was no coffee on site -trauma. Nothing was open and the coffee on site was just in the process of being set up. I sat down to play and Susan Polgar noticed something was wrong (although I hadn't said anything). She came up to me and asked me if she could get me coffee and then went on a coffee run. She came back with the best coffee I had on my entire trip - where else would a world champion get coffee for an ordinary joe?? -wow - to say the least that floored me.
The tables themselves are together by twos with benches (so bughouse can be played) which is far better for social chess and communication. One table at the end has no benches - the wheelchair designate. Altogether there are seven. Each bench has a gold plated plaque with famous chess sayings - example: Bobby Fischer: "chess is life" ; Johann Goethe: "chess is the touchstone of the intellect" ; Susan Polgar: "win with grace, lose with dignity" etc. Only thing is they were underutilized.
The entire time I was there no one played on them with the exception when I talked a passerby into playing there. I mentioned that they needed a chess coordinator and I hope they realize and follow through.
On the second day of play in my tournament I blundered away two out of three of my games (although in one my opponent returned the favor) so I finally could fully relax and enjoy more of my surroundings.
On the Sunday morning after a glorious walk to the tournament I discovered that there was no coffee on site -trauma. Nothing was open and the coffee on site was just in the process of being set up. I sat down to play and Susan Polgar noticed something was wrong (although I hadn't said anything). She came up to me and asked me if she could get me coffee and then went on a coffee run. She came back with the best coffee I had on my entire trip - where else would a world champion get coffee for an ordinary joe?? -wow - to say the least that floored me.
Susan Polgar and Paul Truong doing what they normally do.
The Tournament
In the tournament itself I played the 3 best youth stars.
Jeffrey Xiong is the top 10 yr old in the US. The last published rating I could find was 2288 but by the time we played it was going north of 2350. In the analysis room on the second day I saw him on a laptop. When I went over to look he was whipping through database games at about 4 or 5 moves per second. I asked him what he was looking for. After a few more questions it became clear that not only was he identifying opening ideas but also tactical keys and positional technique during the course of each game. In my game he saw a lot more than I did.
His father was also very friendly. He mentioned that he would be happy to bring Jeffery to a tournament in Canada. I am sure I can work something out.
I really enjoyed spending a lot of time in conversation with Dr. Hal Karlsson and Paul Truong. With Dr. Karlsson there was a new idea(s) with every conversation. He was always looking to fine tune or add to the chess tournaments or the chess program. Paul was a virtual fountain of information on the international chess scene and because he was basically tied to the computer and his cameras I got to pump him with at least a thousand questions. Paul was always happy to answer and I got him excited on more than one occasion on past events or current situations.
A couple of times he gave me a ride back to my motel and it was thanks to him that I received a gift basket and many other souvenirs of my stay in Lubbock and Texas Tech.
I even stayed an extra day for more conversation and to see the end of the Spice Cup A tournament (with the thrilling finale between Le Quang Liem and Lenier Dominguez) and Susan personally invited me to the farewell dinner (and birthday party of Ray Robson) at the Texas Land and Cattle Roadhouse. The bacon wrapped sirloin was Texas sized and sitting across from Le Quang Liem and his mother and beside Jerry (a vice-president of Texas Tech and a 500 pound ex football Afro American with a razor wit and constantly telling stories of his youth growing up in Munich in southern Germany, interspersed with witticisms from Paul Truong) was memorable.
Also on the final day in the morning I went to see the Buddy Holly museum. Definitely not to be missed. Every little detail of his life is there. Even though he died at 21, not only was he a music legend but a great improviser who invented or perfected many musical ideas. Especially the video has to be seen. It is a mini documentary (about half an hour) very tightly scripted. About 5 minutes in you see Paul McCartney sitting in a chair with a guitar. Paul is very down to earth and leads with: "I guess I was about 16 and me and John sagged off from school one day to go to the Palladium to see Buddy. We sat up front to watch his chord work and we couldn't get over it. How does he do it? How does he do it?" - then Paul on the guitar breaks into Peggy Sue and then in the exact same rhythm Twist and Shout - and then typical Paul - but of course Buddy did it much better.
Also seeing the Stones tell about their first song in public being a Buddy Holly tune and Elton John's famous glasses -an idea he got from Buddy. In the museum showcases endless examples of Buddy's creativity and highlights of his career. Buddy, on top of his musical prowess, was an expert craftsman and wood and leather carver, carving his own belts and guitar straps and even making his own furniture. Every Buddy Holly song ever recorded is there and is played non stop around the clock, as well as other hits of other stars at the time. Definitely not to be missed the day the music died.
On the last morning I got up in plenty of time and went to Denny's for breakfast and then ordered a cab. After 45 minutes the cab had still not arrived so I ran with all my luggage to the bus station. I was a few minutes late but was relieved to find out that I had not missed my bus. An hour later the bus arrived but the driver was acting very strange. He was on a cellphone for quite some time (just sitting on the bus after letting all the passengers off) and when he finally exited the bus he held a clipboard to his head so we couldn't see his face. He disappeared into the terminal for 15 minutes and when he finally allowed the passengers on board he had no info for us.
An Explanation for more of my story
The streets of Lubbock are bricked (not paved) and I guess in the winter sometimes the bricks heave up. This causes what is referred to as gaps and there are big signs "Mind the Gap - 5 mile per hour". If you are wise as a driver you do 5 mph.
The bus left in a great hurry and all of a sudden a tremendous bang, curses from the driver, but he kept on going.
About 20 miles out we are pulled over by a state trooper. He boards the bus and explains that fluid is pouring out of the bus and would we please accompany him to the nearest depot. More curses from the driver after he leaves.
On arrival at the state trooper depot we are waved ahead of a line of about 20 tractor trailers to pull up over a large mechanics pit. It takes another 45 minutes but eventually they temporarily patch the leak and give the bus a full inspection and clearance (but the driver is given papers to have the leak properly fixed in 48 hours).
While the driver is away talking to the troopers the story comes out via one of the passengers why the bus was late that morning. Apparently the night before on the all night run from Dallas to Lubbock (and then to Amarillo) about two hours from Lubbock the driver drove off the road. When he did it a second time the passengers started shouting at him. The driver then drove the bus to the nearest motel, left the door open, and disappeared.
When the passengers realized he was not coming back they phoned Greyhound and finally arranged (after several calls) a replacement bus and driver.
We arrived in Amarillo two hours late and luckily 10 minutes to my next departure to Albuquerque, New Mexico (and eventually Flagstaff, Arizona).
I got off the bus a little paranoid. Amarillo is a major transfer hub for buses going south (Dallas), southwest (New Mexico and Mexico), west (Vegas and LA), north (Denver), and north east (Oklahoma and ST Louis or Memphis). However the station itself is like a Greyhound station from the 50's with very few bays, a seedy interior with little signage, and poor service.
Luckily when I got off the bus I noticed that there were two handlers (one each for each side of the bus) Being Johnny on the spot I noticed one of the handlers with my bag and demanded it. He reacted with "Sure man, calm down, whatever" but handed me my bag. I'm pretty sure he was stoned and the incident shook me.
I got to my next bus just in the nick of time, I'm not sure about my fellow passengers making it.
Off we went to New Mexico. I found eastern New Mexico to be boring, basically the same scenery, but close to Albuquerque the scenery changes dramatically to mountains with beautiful background views, some magnificent homes, and sweeping passes thru canyons.
Albuquerque is a gorgeous sprawling city - 6 to 8 million depending who you ask. The freeways are lined with fascinating multicoloured tiles, the underneaths of highway bridges are painted in spectacular murals, the dividers in the center of the highways have many trees, large cactus, and shrubs and huge painted clay pots with lots of flowers. An impressive city.
After 16 hours of driving adventure I got to Flagstaff, Arizona. It was 10:30 at night and we got off to a small one room depot (that could hold a dozen passengers max) and one guy behind the counter. The bus held 50 passengers.Luckily I had been studying my Grand Canyon guidebook (Lonely Planet - I highly recommend it) and knew the direction to downtown Flagstaff. However it was pitch black out. I headed out with all my luggage, luckily I didn't hit a pothole, and after about a mile was wondering where the downtown was.
The other thing was when I left Lubbock the temperature the day before was 90+ and that morning early already 70 (20+C). Although I was wearing my jacket off the bus (as I didn't want to jam it in my luggage) I was freezing. Later I found out that the windchill that night in Flagstaff was -5C. Just as I was panicking about being lost I happened to notice a couple of groups of people huddled on both sides of the street.
Smokers from two bars saved me! The bars themselves did not have lighted windows. I continued and about a 100 ft further noticed a large lighted window on my left and inside finally four normal people having a conversation. I found the door, went inside, and asked for directions to downtown hotels. A nice, courteous young man helped me but as he gave me directions a voice piped up from behind "Why don't you stay here?" and so I did. I had stumbled onto the Grand Canyon International Hostel - guaranteed the friendliest place in Flagstaff.
The streets of Lubbock are bricked (not paved) and I guess in the winter sometimes the bricks heave up. This causes what is referred to as gaps and there are big signs "Mind the Gap - 5 mile per hour". If you are wise as a driver you do 5 mph.
The bus left in a great hurry and all of a sudden a tremendous bang, curses from the driver, but he kept on going.
About 20 miles out we are pulled over by a state trooper. He boards the bus and explains that fluid is pouring out of the bus and would we please accompany him to the nearest depot. More curses from the driver after he leaves.
On arrival at the state trooper depot we are waved ahead of a line of about 20 tractor trailers to pull up over a large mechanics pit. It takes another 45 minutes but eventually they temporarily patch the leak and give the bus a full inspection and clearance (but the driver is given papers to have the leak properly fixed in 48 hours).
While the driver is away talking to the troopers the story comes out via one of the passengers why the bus was late that morning. Apparently the night before on the all night run from Dallas to Lubbock (and then to Amarillo) about two hours from Lubbock the driver drove off the road. When he did it a second time the passengers started shouting at him. The driver then drove the bus to the nearest motel, left the door open, and disappeared.
When the passengers realized he was not coming back they phoned Greyhound and finally arranged (after several calls) a replacement bus and driver.
We arrived in Amarillo two hours late and luckily 10 minutes to my next departure to Albuquerque, New Mexico (and eventually Flagstaff, Arizona).
I got off the bus a little paranoid. Amarillo is a major transfer hub for buses going south (Dallas), southwest (New Mexico and Mexico), west (Vegas and LA), north (Denver), and north east (Oklahoma and ST Louis or Memphis). However the station itself is like a Greyhound station from the 50's with very few bays, a seedy interior with little signage, and poor service.
Luckily when I got off the bus I noticed that there were two handlers (one each for each side of the bus) Being Johnny on the spot I noticed one of the handlers with my bag and demanded it. He reacted with "Sure man, calm down, whatever" but handed me my bag. I'm pretty sure he was stoned and the incident shook me.
I got to my next bus just in the nick of time, I'm not sure about my fellow passengers making it.
Off we went to New Mexico. I found eastern New Mexico to be boring, basically the same scenery, but close to Albuquerque the scenery changes dramatically to mountains with beautiful background views, some magnificent homes, and sweeping passes thru canyons.
Albuquerque is a gorgeous sprawling city - 6 to 8 million depending who you ask. The freeways are lined with fascinating multicoloured tiles, the underneaths of highway bridges are painted in spectacular murals, the dividers in the center of the highways have many trees, large cactus, and shrubs and huge painted clay pots with lots of flowers. An impressive city.
After 16 hours of driving adventure I got to Flagstaff, Arizona. It was 10:30 at night and we got off to a small one room depot (that could hold a dozen passengers max) and one guy behind the counter. The bus held 50 passengers.Luckily I had been studying my Grand Canyon guidebook (Lonely Planet - I highly recommend it) and knew the direction to downtown Flagstaff. However it was pitch black out. I headed out with all my luggage, luckily I didn't hit a pothole, and after about a mile was wondering where the downtown was.
The other thing was when I left Lubbock the temperature the day before was 90+ and that morning early already 70 (20+C). Although I was wearing my jacket off the bus (as I didn't want to jam it in my luggage) I was freezing. Later I found out that the windchill that night in Flagstaff was -5C. Just as I was panicking about being lost I happened to notice a couple of groups of people huddled on both sides of the street.
Smokers from two bars saved me! The bars themselves did not have lighted windows. I continued and about a 100 ft further noticed a large lighted window on my left and inside finally four normal people having a conversation. I found the door, went inside, and asked for directions to downtown hotels. A nice, courteous young man helped me but as he gave me directions a voice piped up from behind "Why don't you stay here?" and so I did. I had stumbled onto the Grand Canyon International Hostel - guaranteed the friendliest place in Flagstaff.
Grand Canyon Youth Hostel
Flagstaff
After a nice refreshing sleep I decided to take a day to look around Flagstaff and I'm glad I did. Flagstaff is only a small city of about 50,000 but a happening place. It has a large university (U of Northern Arizona), a lively street culture and hundreds of interesting shops in a fairly small downtown (easy to get to). The hostel (which is a hundred year old converted former inn with many small cottages on the grounds) is located on a street corner right across from 3 popular bars and two trendy restaurants with great food. It was also only two blocks from the university grounds and two blocks from the downtown.
Across the street were two connected old warehouses that had been converted into the Lumberyard (also converted from a lumberyard) a very popular bar with at least 30,000 ft of floor space and high ceilings with the old beams and historic pictures on the wall. In the back they make their own beer and their Lumberyard Red has won awards and I can personally vouch for its pleasant affect on both my palate and brain cells.On the Saturday evening they had their Halloween party and although there were two other bars with competitive parties this place was full with hundreds of different costumed characters.
Behind the lumberyard was the railway and it was very busy. Every half hour a train would go by with 3 or 4 locomotives and at least a hundred cars and it was interesting to see quite a number of Canadian Pacific and CN cars. On the other side of the tracks was the old railway station, a beautiful heritage site with painted walls and murals and interesting historic objects. About a third of it functioned as a current station but two thirds was now a welcome center and tourist shop and it was a meeting point for all the shuttles and transport services.Ironically it was also my best source for local info and my best deals were obtained here on tourist items. (example - a walking cane made from sassaparilla (a wood formerly used in the manufacture of root beer), the cheapest and best calendar of the Grand Canyon, and incredible deals on petrified wood and gem stones from the area)
Flagstaff's major grocery store, Fry's, was a one mile walk (which I thoroughly enjoyed) along old Route 66. The air was bracing (like a drink of cold mountain water as the old songsmiths used to say) and the shops along the way interesting.
Fry's was very upfront with their approach. They were in the business of selling groceries and they just wanted your business. (so how are they different from other grocers??) Well - they immediately pressured me to get a discount card. - didn't care that I was from out of state let alone out of country - just fill out the application sir. What convinced me was the sight of my all time favorite beer - Sam Adams - and their latest Oktoberfest special. A twelve pack was regular $22.99 but with a Fry’s Discount Card 10 dollars off - no further arm twisting necessary. Altogether in two visits I purchased $30 worth of items and received more than $20 off.
After a nice refreshing sleep I decided to take a day to look around Flagstaff and I'm glad I did. Flagstaff is only a small city of about 50,000 but a happening place. It has a large university (U of Northern Arizona), a lively street culture and hundreds of interesting shops in a fairly small downtown (easy to get to). The hostel (which is a hundred year old converted former inn with many small cottages on the grounds) is located on a street corner right across from 3 popular bars and two trendy restaurants with great food. It was also only two blocks from the university grounds and two blocks from the downtown.
Across the street were two connected old warehouses that had been converted into the Lumberyard (also converted from a lumberyard) a very popular bar with at least 30,000 ft of floor space and high ceilings with the old beams and historic pictures on the wall. In the back they make their own beer and their Lumberyard Red has won awards and I can personally vouch for its pleasant affect on both my palate and brain cells.On the Saturday evening they had their Halloween party and although there were two other bars with competitive parties this place was full with hundreds of different costumed characters.
Behind the lumberyard was the railway and it was very busy. Every half hour a train would go by with 3 or 4 locomotives and at least a hundred cars and it was interesting to see quite a number of Canadian Pacific and CN cars. On the other side of the tracks was the old railway station, a beautiful heritage site with painted walls and murals and interesting historic objects. About a third of it functioned as a current station but two thirds was now a welcome center and tourist shop and it was a meeting point for all the shuttles and transport services.Ironically it was also my best source for local info and my best deals were obtained here on tourist items. (example - a walking cane made from sassaparilla (a wood formerly used in the manufacture of root beer), the cheapest and best calendar of the Grand Canyon, and incredible deals on petrified wood and gem stones from the area)
Flagstaff's major grocery store, Fry's, was a one mile walk (which I thoroughly enjoyed) along old Route 66. The air was bracing (like a drink of cold mountain water as the old songsmiths used to say) and the shops along the way interesting.
Fry's was very upfront with their approach. They were in the business of selling groceries and they just wanted your business. (so how are they different from other grocers??) Well - they immediately pressured me to get a discount card. - didn't care that I was from out of state let alone out of country - just fill out the application sir. What convinced me was the sight of my all time favorite beer - Sam Adams - and their latest Oktoberfest special. A twelve pack was regular $22.99 but with a Fry’s Discount Card 10 dollars off - no further arm twisting necessary. Altogether in two visits I purchased $30 worth of items and received more than $20 off.
Making my way to the Grand Canyon
Although a tour and hike in the Grand Canyon was offered from the hostel they had the right to cancel if they did not reach minimum numbers. It was the start of the off season and I was afraid if I waited until the tour and they cancelled I might miss the Grand Canyon altogether so I decided to book via Arizona Shuttle - the only shuttle with daily service. However I didn't want to wait and pay the driver the next morning because they had the same stipulation. So I decided to pay their office a visit.
I went to what I thought was the local bus depot but turned out was just a platform in the middle of a parking lot. However it did have a schedule and map on a plexiglass divider and by coordinating I realized the no.5 bus was going in that direction. However the next bus was in 45 minutes so I decided to walk.
A 10 minute walk got me to my street and there the adventure began. I was on a street with business buildings and light industrial and the address was only 500 in numbers away so it couldn't be too far. Wrong assumption. The numbers went up by two and with vacant lots in between, well after a dozen twists and turns and more than two miles later just as I was worrying I was walking to the next town (and my chest had been heaving for the last mile) I finally stumbled on the place.
Typical chess player - I was still trying to work out how they would number those vacant lots when they finally developed them.
Although a tour and hike in the Grand Canyon was offered from the hostel they had the right to cancel if they did not reach minimum numbers. It was the start of the off season and I was afraid if I waited until the tour and they cancelled I might miss the Grand Canyon altogether so I decided to book via Arizona Shuttle - the only shuttle with daily service. However I didn't want to wait and pay the driver the next morning because they had the same stipulation. So I decided to pay their office a visit.
I went to what I thought was the local bus depot but turned out was just a platform in the middle of a parking lot. However it did have a schedule and map on a plexiglass divider and by coordinating I realized the no.5 bus was going in that direction. However the next bus was in 45 minutes so I decided to walk.
A 10 minute walk got me to my street and there the adventure began. I was on a street with business buildings and light industrial and the address was only 500 in numbers away so it couldn't be too far. Wrong assumption. The numbers went up by two and with vacant lots in between, well after a dozen twists and turns and more than two miles later just as I was worrying I was walking to the next town (and my chest had been heaving for the last mile) I finally stumbled on the place.
Typical chess player - I was still trying to work out how they would number those vacant lots when they finally developed them.
Pastos Restaurant and special meal
Unwittingly I got my preparatory exercise for the Canyon on that walk - an estimated 6 miles back and forth. Well long walks build appetites (especially with the mountain air) and I decided to wander downtown and find a special place for a special meal. Again typical chess player - I pass all sorts of restaurants (and can't make up my mind) but what finally caught my eye was a place which had two (not one but two!) chess sets in the window. Obviously a sign from Caissa so in I went.
The restaurant called Pastos was an odd setup. Where the chess sets were set up was a separate room and vacant and open to the foyer.
One had to turn right and step up to enter what looked like a gorgeous ballroom (except full with large mahogany dining tables) and was obviously a fine dining establishment. It was explained to me by my server. Where the chess sets were was actually a coffee bar where they also served light breakfasts and lunches, was very popular with the lunch crowd and had a separate staff. Well it obviously wasn't going to be the meal I first envisioned and I had some qualms about the final price but I decided there and then that I was in for a culinary adventure, and what an adventure it turned out to be.
It was here I first discovered Lumberyard Red. Most people would order red wine to start the meal I was planning on having but I'm a beer man, always have been.
Lumberyard Red was the recommendation and I liked it so much I ordered two steins back to back.
The menu started with cheeses (Appetizers and separately 8 listed cheeses) So of course I queried my server as to how they arranged the cheeses. He was a nice young man of Irish background (ex university student but it seems like they are all ex or current university students in Flagstaff) and with a good sense of humor and quick wit which helps in dealing with me. Apparently they arrange the cheeses on a large plate with many fresh fruits, nuts and veggies as well as different herbs and sauces.
It was exquisite. - a taste sensation -the cheese was a large slab of Sicilian Almond with what turned out to be fresh figs, a couple of marinated, stewed tomatoes, many other fresh fruits and veggies, and a wide assortment of local nuts - and a personal favorite hickory smoked almonds! - and it went perfectly with the Lumberyard Red! (and only $8!)
Soup followed - not just any old soup but pureed asparagus with an amazing herbal blend and bruschetta right in the middle of it. The main course was a Mediterranean stir fry that had all kinds of subtle flavors and the dessert was a weird layered Italian cake (which had a taste sensation akin to croissants) and even harder to believe what I'm sure was German bean coffee. And after such a wonderful meal - a relief - total price of only $50. I wish I was there now having the same dining experience. Time to go - I'm hungry.
Unwittingly I got my preparatory exercise for the Canyon on that walk - an estimated 6 miles back and forth. Well long walks build appetites (especially with the mountain air) and I decided to wander downtown and find a special place for a special meal. Again typical chess player - I pass all sorts of restaurants (and can't make up my mind) but what finally caught my eye was a place which had two (not one but two!) chess sets in the window. Obviously a sign from Caissa so in I went.
The restaurant called Pastos was an odd setup. Where the chess sets were set up was a separate room and vacant and open to the foyer.
One had to turn right and step up to enter what looked like a gorgeous ballroom (except full with large mahogany dining tables) and was obviously a fine dining establishment. It was explained to me by my server. Where the chess sets were was actually a coffee bar where they also served light breakfasts and lunches, was very popular with the lunch crowd and had a separate staff. Well it obviously wasn't going to be the meal I first envisioned and I had some qualms about the final price but I decided there and then that I was in for a culinary adventure, and what an adventure it turned out to be.
It was here I first discovered Lumberyard Red. Most people would order red wine to start the meal I was planning on having but I'm a beer man, always have been.
Lumberyard Red was the recommendation and I liked it so much I ordered two steins back to back.
The menu started with cheeses (Appetizers and separately 8 listed cheeses) So of course I queried my server as to how they arranged the cheeses. He was a nice young man of Irish background (ex university student but it seems like they are all ex or current university students in Flagstaff) and with a good sense of humor and quick wit which helps in dealing with me. Apparently they arrange the cheeses on a large plate with many fresh fruits, nuts and veggies as well as different herbs and sauces.
It was exquisite. - a taste sensation -the cheese was a large slab of Sicilian Almond with what turned out to be fresh figs, a couple of marinated, stewed tomatoes, many other fresh fruits and veggies, and a wide assortment of local nuts - and a personal favorite hickory smoked almonds! - and it went perfectly with the Lumberyard Red! (and only $8!)
Soup followed - not just any old soup but pureed asparagus with an amazing herbal blend and bruschetta right in the middle of it. The main course was a Mediterranean stir fry that had all kinds of subtle flavors and the dessert was a weird layered Italian cake (which had a taste sensation akin to croissants) and even harder to believe what I'm sure was German bean coffee. And after such a wonderful meal - a relief - total price of only $50. I wish I was there now having the same dining experience. Time to go - I'm hungry.
The South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon. It goes to the Colorado River (the canyon in the center of the picture) crosses and continues to and up the far rim. About 15 miles to the far rim as the crow flies.
Made it to the Grand Canyon National Park
I took the shuttle from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon. It’s 74 miles of pretty much boring scenery (a National Forest both sides) and the price $64 (including park entrance which is $12 and good for a week) which is a bit steep considering the driver didn't talk at all. A much better deal is from Williams, Arizona (20 kms west of Flagstaff) - the price is $30 cheaper and it’s 30 miles closer.
Grand Canyon National Park is a very well run organisation. It has 2000 rangers (the police and rescue force) and 3000 other employees. Many of them live there year round in families in a well organized town, some choose to work six months a year and live elsewhere for 6 months.
A gentleman on the shuttle was coming in from Thailand where he lives for 6 months with his Thai wife and family. He was not happy to leave his family but happy to leave the flooding. He explained some of the organizational details to me. Every job position gets extensive training. Some jobs are entry jobs and others are bid on. He was very satisfied with working conditions and he thought most noteworthy in terms of employee satisfaction was that employees were encouraged to present creative ideas and then would spend committee time deciding what ideas should get priority and work toward implementing them. An example of a successful idea was determining that plastic water bottles are the largest form of waste at the Canyon and manufacturing top quality shopping bags from recycled water bottles.
Made it to the Grand Canyon National Park
I took the shuttle from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon. It’s 74 miles of pretty much boring scenery (a National Forest both sides) and the price $64 (including park entrance which is $12 and good for a week) which is a bit steep considering the driver didn't talk at all. A much better deal is from Williams, Arizona (20 kms west of Flagstaff) - the price is $30 cheaper and it’s 30 miles closer.
Grand Canyon National Park is a very well run organisation. It has 2000 rangers (the police and rescue force) and 3000 other employees. Many of them live there year round in families in a well organized town, some choose to work six months a year and live elsewhere for 6 months.
A gentleman on the shuttle was coming in from Thailand where he lives for 6 months with his Thai wife and family. He was not happy to leave his family but happy to leave the flooding. He explained some of the organizational details to me. Every job position gets extensive training. Some jobs are entry jobs and others are bid on. He was very satisfied with working conditions and he thought most noteworthy in terms of employee satisfaction was that employees were encouraged to present creative ideas and then would spend committee time deciding what ideas should get priority and work toward implementing them. An example of a successful idea was determining that plastic water bottles are the largest form of waste at the Canyon and manufacturing top quality shopping bags from recycled water bottles.
Hopi House. A must see attraction. Built as a dedication to the Hopi Nation and as an opportunity for them to make money. The outside is interesting, the inside far more fascinating with Hopi treasures galore (exquisite carving, weaving, jewellery - all sorts of artistry and historical artifacts) but of course no photography.
Hopi House and Kolb Studio
After orienting myself and seeing Hopi House and Kolb Studio (the closest places from the shuttle drop off - only a 200 yard walk away) and the surrounding panoramic views of the Canyon, I decided to take a local shuttle to the end of the line westwards.
The Canyon has shuttle buses that take you anywhere you want to go free of charge - Blue, Green, Red, Yellow Shuttles. (Another nice feature of the Grand Canyon is they hit you with only the one time fee of $12 at the entrance - all other basic services are free.) I took the Blue Shuttle to the west end - it makes stops every 5 minutes at viewing points of the canyon where you can get off and get back on to continue your viewing experience.
Hopi House and Kolb Studio
After orienting myself and seeing Hopi House and Kolb Studio (the closest places from the shuttle drop off - only a 200 yard walk away) and the surrounding panoramic views of the Canyon, I decided to take a local shuttle to the end of the line westwards.
The Canyon has shuttle buses that take you anywhere you want to go free of charge - Blue, Green, Red, Yellow Shuttles. (Another nice feature of the Grand Canyon is they hit you with only the one time fee of $12 at the entrance - all other basic services are free.) I took the Blue Shuttle to the west end - it makes stops every 5 minutes at viewing points of the canyon where you can get off and get back on to continue your viewing experience.
Hermit’s rest trail, as brutal as it looks
Hermit’s Rest Trail
The shuttle ended up at Hermits Rest where I decided to do a hike on the Hermit's Rest Trail. The stop and trail are named after a character called the Hermit who built a cottage under the rim about a 100 years ago and worked a mine there for the rest of his life. The story interested me so much I decided to hike down to see the cottage and the workings but what was described as a 2 hour hike - of course I failed to factor in double the time to return.
It was a very torturous trail with large rocks with sharp edges continually cutting across the trail and sand often to a couple of inches in depth covering the trail and extremely steep switchbacks. I saw a rattler on a rock about 50 ft distant but by the time I focused my camera it had slithered away. After half an hour I decided to turn back and it took me almost an hour to climb back to the top and at the end my chest was heaving and I was soaked in sweat.
All the trailheads have large info placards that describe conditions, suggested time of travel, suggested equipment and tips for hiking - and central a story about a previous hike.
Apparently a 23 yr old girl, honours university graduate and athlete, (just finished the Boston marathon that spring), decided to hike the Grand Canyon with a male friend in July 2005 (?). They had all the proper equipment and plenty of water. When they started at the rim it was 70F and when they got to the bottom it was 110F. She collapsed of heat exhaustion. They were rescued within 20 minutes but she could not be revived. The parents agreed to have that story posted as a warning to hikers.
My time at the Hermits Rest gift shop was much better spent. It was full of fascinating items and I even ended up buying a Grand Canyon blanket made of recycled material because the craftsmanship was of high quality.
The central fireplace at the Hermits Rest gift shop. It used to be the central heating for the artist’s studio. (before the gift shop came into being)
Returned to Grand Canyon
The following morning I returned to the Grand Canyon as part of a tour organized by the Grand Canyon International Hostel in Flagstaff where I was staying (the professional tour guide Greg was boyfriend of the co-owner of the hostel - Maria).
The group was small (the perfect size for me) - there were 6 of us - 4 guys and 2 women. I highly recommend if it's your first trip to the Canyon try to arrange for a hiking guide and get in on a group. For me it was only $20 more expensive than the previous day's shuttle and I got to ask a couple of hundred questions - in fact after a while I was embarrassed by all the questions I was asking and mentioned that I must be a pain but Greg (the guide) said that was what he enjoyed the most - challenging questions which stimulated him and make the tour more enjoyable.
Just the tips alone about cheaper places to buy food and where to get better souvenirs made his price totally worthwhile.
If you go to the Canyon and are budget conscious then going to their supermarket is a must - great prices and they have virtually everything - including souvenirs at best prices.
Our tour started by going to the supermarket and stocking up and then we did an overview of the best viewing sites and the most interesting places to visit.
One of the things that Greg pointed out was the different trails into the canyon - there are 6 on the South Rim alone that are open to hiking.
The Bright Angel Trail is the most popular but it became clear that the South Kaibab trail was the best - both in terms of ease of travel and the stunning and varied views.
Greg’s knowledge of plants, bird and animal life, and rock and stone formations was encyclopedic but as he said he is still always learning and enjoying the learning experience - especially what relates to what and how birds, animals, and plants relate to each other. We heard an interesting story about the mules (I was too heavy for a mule ride - the limit is 200 lbs.). The mules with passengers go down the Bright Angel trail and the mules with baggage go down the South Kaibab Trail.
The folks at the Canyon are proud of advertising that they have never lost a passenger on a mule but what is less known is they lose about 2 baggage mules a year. Part of the reason is that the mules start as baggage mules and only after 10 years when they've survived and proved their worth are they transferred to passenger mules.
Interestingly, Greg was wearing sandals for the tour! When I questioned him he replied that his sandals were "golden" and had never let him down. He then mentioned he had done 22 hikes from rim to rim (each at least a week in duration) with full hiking gear and the record was held by a legendary guide (I forget the name) who had just retired after a lifetime of well over 100 rim to rim hikes.
About 2pm we got a chance for our own hike! down the South Kaibab trail to Cedar Ridge (basically descending the main cliff to the first "bottom" about 1200 ft down and a total distance of about 3 miles). The total hike took about 2 hours and I was amazed by the pace Greg set - never pushing and almost always "taking it easy" but we covered ground fairly fast. He pointed out where the last mule had gone over and where it landed - impossible to get to - and hikers had to put up with the smell for several weeks until the bones were picked clean.
He pointed out a type of cactus which lives most of its life as an ugly, awkward plant but as it prepares to die it shoots out a root more than 4 meters long that contains seed pods in the tip - just like a giant erection (one giant explosion for its whole life - very graphic sexually and the explanation much appreciated by the women).
The views on the hike were absolutely stunning and if you hike the Canyon the South Kaibab Trail is highly recommended and the overnight stay at the ranch at the bottom along the Colorado river is sensational but it requires at least two days hiking and needs to be booked a year in advance. We finished up with a visit to the Watchtower in the east end (which has the best views of the Canyon especially at sunset - and an interesting museum and gift shop).
Then we drove out of the park into Navajo land with Navajo Mountain on the horizon (panoramic views) and many Navajo jewelry shacks along the side of the highway.
All in all a memorable day.
About 2pm we got a chance for our own hike! down the South Kaibab trail to Cedar Ridge (basically descending the main cliff to the first "bottom" about 1200 ft down and a total distance of about 3 miles). The total hike took about 2 hours and I was amazed by the pace Greg set - never pushing and almost always "taking it easy" but we covered ground fairly fast. He pointed out where the last mule had gone over and where it landed - impossible to get to - and hikers had to put up with the smell for several weeks until the bones were picked clean.
He pointed out a type of cactus which lives most of its life as an ugly, awkward plant but as it prepares to die it shoots out a root more than 4 meters long that contains seed pods in the tip - just like a giant erection (one giant explosion for its whole life - very graphic sexually and the explanation much appreciated by the women).
The views on the hike were absolutely stunning and if you hike the Canyon the South Kaibab Trail is highly recommended and the overnight stay at the ranch at the bottom along the Colorado river is sensational but it requires at least two days hiking and needs to be booked a year in advance. We finished up with a visit to the Watchtower in the east end (which has the best views of the Canyon especially at sunset - and an interesting museum and gift shop).
Then we drove out of the park into Navajo land with Navajo Mountain on the horizon (panoramic views) and many Navajo jewelry shacks along the side of the highway.
All in all a memorable day.
The Long Ride Back Home
The day before leaving Flagstaff I prepared for the return trip by going to the bus depot and enquiring about return routes. The agent checked his computer and told me I should go via Albuquerque, New Mexico, Amarillo, Texas, Oklahoma City and then St. Louis. I told him there was no way I was going to return through Amarillo and then told him about my baggage mishandling in Amarillo on the way to Flagstaff. He laughed and then said that several previous passengers had related horror stories about baggage being lost or missing connections in Amarillo. He found it humorous - I guess that's customer service in a way as well - - and when I asked for alternative routes he suggested Albuquerque - Denver and then points east. I didn't get an ominous feeling but I should have. The return trip ended up being 70 hours!
Chess on the bus
I got on the bus 2pm Sunday and the only seat open was three from the back and I was surrounded by black teenagers. How was I going to handle that? I solved it by pulling out my pocket chess set and asking if anyone played chess. Sure enough I got a positive response - not from the toughest looking one but the one that looked like the best athlete. Bradley Spencer was his name. He had learned chess in school in LA, lived there with his mom, but was going to a better high school in Tupelo, Mississippi, and going to be living with his dad. We warmed up by playing a couple of games on the pocket set and then I asked him if he wanted to play blindfold chess - I would teach him. He surprised me by playing 13 moves before the position got too difficult (the surprise was that he got so far not knowing any openings) and then he asked me who I was. I dug out my card and he then said he had a whopper of a story to tell his friends. I told him to do me a favor and join the chess club at his school and if it didn't yet have a club to do his best to get one happening. He then surprised me by wanting to continue playing blindfold chess and also having at least a hundred questions about my job and tournament chess and the world of international chess. It was all new to him. I'm still expecting an email from him as to how things are going.
We reached Gallup, New Mexico after about 3 hours. Gallup is the center of the Indian Nation with Navajo, Hopi, Zuni, and Apache reservations all around.
To the west and north a beautiful red sandstone rock called Defiance Ridge stretches for more than 100 miles.
We pulled up in front of an old fashioned trading post which had been converted into a large variety store with a hair stylist/ small diner/fast food options/ social corner with benches/ Greyhound agent on the side.
On the inside of the large glass front windows newspaper clippings had been posted (dated from about 3 years previous right to the present) announcing the deaths of at least 5 of the original Ghost Talkers (World War Two War Heroes) from the area. There was also an interview with the only surviving Ghost Talker in the area. Interesting reading.
Indian women walked up and down the boardwalk out front their hands full of jewellery, weaving, and crafts trying to sell to the Greyhound passengers. The men (and in some cases whole families) sat in pickup trucks (kids in the back) waiting for them.
Navajo woman’s story
When we got back on the bus a young pretty Navajo woman with her daughter was seated beside me. She ended up having cell phone conversations for the next two hours where I could hear every word (whether I wanted to or not). Apparently she had been visiting home on the reserve and the plan was to visit for a week but after two days she had enough of her mother. She called her mother several repeated names that I can't mention here on this site and after she got through her book of social contacts she apologised to me (and all my neighbors) and explained her family situation.
Her mother is the matriarch and everything must meet with her approval. Her father is always passive and nobody else will buck her mother. Early on her mother had designated her (the daughter) career as an art slave - she was supposed to design jewellery and crafts - and as soon as she could she had run away from the res. She had run to Oklahoma?! and met a seven foot tall black guy and had a love child (the daughter beside her who at age 9 was already taller than her and looked more like her father).
She was very happy now with her bartending job in an Oklahoman City with a large university where she served rich students drinks. She then went on to tell me that she was a Navajo princess who personally would inherit 70,000 acres of land (I asked how many rattlesnakes and she said Indians don't own wildlife and I said I thought they were not supposed to own land either) Around here she directed her conversation towards my fellow passengers and not so much to me but I did manage to encourage her to apply to the Jerry Springer show. This charade went on almost all the way to Albuquerque. (and no I didnt warn her about Amarillo)
When we got back on the bus a young pretty Navajo woman with her daughter was seated beside me. She ended up having cell phone conversations for the next two hours where I could hear every word (whether I wanted to or not). Apparently she had been visiting home on the reserve and the plan was to visit for a week but after two days she had enough of her mother. She called her mother several repeated names that I can't mention here on this site and after she got through her book of social contacts she apologised to me (and all my neighbors) and explained her family situation.
Her mother is the matriarch and everything must meet with her approval. Her father is always passive and nobody else will buck her mother. Early on her mother had designated her (the daughter) career as an art slave - she was supposed to design jewellery and crafts - and as soon as she could she had run away from the res. She had run to Oklahoma?! and met a seven foot tall black guy and had a love child (the daughter beside her who at age 9 was already taller than her and looked more like her father).
She was very happy now with her bartending job in an Oklahoman City with a large university where she served rich students drinks. She then went on to tell me that she was a Navajo princess who personally would inherit 70,000 acres of land (I asked how many rattlesnakes and she said Indians don't own wildlife and I said I thought they were not supposed to own land either) Around here she directed her conversation towards my fellow passengers and not so much to me but I did manage to encourage her to apply to the Jerry Springer show. This charade went on almost all the way to Albuquerque. (and no I didnt warn her about Amarillo)
Lost passenger
I went back to the bus relieved that I had come prepared. Leaving Flagstaff and remembering my bus trip from Canada experience I had stocked up with 12 grain bread and peanut butter and that was my lunch, in fact it would end up being 3 meals in a row. The driver left the rest stop in a hurry. 20 minutes down the road a passenger told him he had left someone behind. He turned around and drove madly back to the rest stop but couldn't find the passenger. Back we went down the highway a second time. 15 minutes later there were flashing lights in the rear and a state trooper pulled him over. The lost passenger got on the bus and the driver got off and walked back to the back of the bus with the state trooper yelling and pointing the finger.
What happened? Apparently just before the end of the rest break the lost passenger had gone into Mickee Dees to use the washroom and the driver didn't bother to do a head count when he took off.
The lost passenger managed to flag down a woman in a van and then used her cell phone to call the state troopers and they coordinated (apparently four of them) a search for the bus. The bus driver confused them when he turned around so it became quite the mission. Also the state trooper noticed that the engine cover at the back of the bus was raised so he gave the driver a ticket.
New bus driver versus the old driver
6 hours later, with a very brief (ten minute) stop in between, we arrived in a small town 2 hours from Kansas City. The driver disappeared without having said a word to any of the passengers during the entire trip. The new driver got on with a black notebook and walked thru the bus endlessly noting things in the notebook and then back off the bus and a couple of times around again busily scribbling in his notebook. He then came on and made an announcement; the bus was going to be impounded, however he first had to drive the bus two hours to Kansas City (he had no choice) where it would be taken out of service. We would switch buses and continue 4 hours to St. Louis. What about the fact that we were two hours behind schedule? What about missed connections? He would do his best but no guarantees.
That was my introduction to Kansas.
The driver in the previous segment who did the notebook check and impounded the bus in Kansas City was the best driver I've ever encountered. An Afro American age about 40, he was all spit and polish and his uniform had sharp creases as tho it was brand new. More importantly he was efficient, courteous, answered all questions and drove that bus as fast as I've ever seen a Greyhound bus driven. We passed everybody on the road and the irony was he was breaking the law virtually every mile of the way (way over the speed limit). By the time we got to St. Louis he had shaved off an hour and a half from the two hours we were behind, and I think everybody made their connections. We got to St. Louis at 3 am and I got in a line to take a further bus to Chicago. There were no wickets open - no info or ticket sales - just a lot of people standing around.
Switching buses
I got a strange feeling while I was in line to go to Chicago. The sign listed a bunch of towns in Illinois and the final destination of 93rd street in Chicago. As far as I can recall the main station in Chicago was downtown on a street named after a president. I checked with a fellow traveller in the lineup and his ticket said arrival in Chicago at 930am. That meant it was a milk run and also if I had to do an intercity transfer in Chicago and then catch a Detroit bus, well what time would I eventually arrive in Detroit?? It did not compute well. No go.Last minute I made a decision and switched lines to the New York bus via Dayton, Ohio. I just made it and I was the last passenger to board. The driver couldn't tell me anything about connections to Detroit but my gut decision turned out later to be the right one.
From St. Louis onwards
If the last driver (before St Louis) was the best one I ever encountered, the next one was the most skilled. We left St Louis at 330am and drove the rest of the night at high speeds along twisting, turning back roads all the way to Terre Haute, Indiana. How do I know they were back roads? The bus seemed to take over most of the pavement on these narrow roads, when headlights appeared at the last second the driver would pull over and you could hear the right wheels on the shoulder. The roads seemed to have dips and bumps, at times we seemed to be flying, alternating with swaying and rattles on the bumps. Lots of curves too and the driver had a professional way of running the numerous stop signs we encountered. Forget about sleep.
We entered Terre Haute just as the night was starting to dim, the prelude to dawn. Terre Haute didn't have a proper bus depot - the drop off was in front of a hair salon. Lots of back streets and I managed to enjoy a nice sunrise over farmers fields on the way to Indianapolis.
Indianapolis had the first bus depot since St. Louis, in fact it was a cavernous space - much too big even for Greyhound! I took advantage to enquire about a bus to Detroit. It was 930am when I enquired and the bus didn't arrive in Detroit until 6pm. I had a connection to Canada leaving at 6pm from Detroit. Would I make it? Sorry sir, no guarantees. If you had wanted to make that connection you would have had to leave here at 6am and arrive in Detroit at 1pm. I got back on the same bus (for some reason it had an hour and a half down time in Indianapolis) and arrived in Dayton, Ohio at 1230pm.
In Dayton we had to wait until 3:15 pm for the Detroit bus out of Cincinnati.
Dayton also had a cavernous depot, and it was also brand new. (the paint had not quite dried on the walls yet) The odour was unbearable so I had to do most of my waiting outside.
Luckily it was a very nice day (temperature around 20 C). The kind of day it was nice to wander around in but nowhere to check my luggage.
The bus to Detroit arrived half an hour late. I mentioned my connection in Detroit to Canada to the driver but he just shrugged. He was a character. He wore bicycle racing gloves with only the tips of the fingers showing, aviator sunglasses, and was about 50 pounds overweight and effeminate in his movements. He also acted like a stewardess on West Jet flights - walking down the aisles at every stop to do head counts and bending over for personal chats with some of the passengers.
I would like to add that I was one of three white passengers on the bus, the rest were Afro American. Why did that matter?
On the way a conversation started that got louder and louder. A few aggressive males (and one aggressive female) started telling stories about their experiences in the southern US with white gangs. In between was commentary about news from Detroit. Apparently in the last week tensions had reached a high with a dozen drive by shootings (and killings) in the Detroit area. I pretended to sleep through it all.
I went back to the bus relieved that I had come prepared. Leaving Flagstaff and remembering my bus trip from Canada experience I had stocked up with 12 grain bread and peanut butter and that was my lunch, in fact it would end up being 3 meals in a row. The driver left the rest stop in a hurry. 20 minutes down the road a passenger told him he had left someone behind. He turned around and drove madly back to the rest stop but couldn't find the passenger. Back we went down the highway a second time. 15 minutes later there were flashing lights in the rear and a state trooper pulled him over. The lost passenger got on the bus and the driver got off and walked back to the back of the bus with the state trooper yelling and pointing the finger.
What happened? Apparently just before the end of the rest break the lost passenger had gone into Mickee Dees to use the washroom and the driver didn't bother to do a head count when he took off.
The lost passenger managed to flag down a woman in a van and then used her cell phone to call the state troopers and they coordinated (apparently four of them) a search for the bus. The bus driver confused them when he turned around so it became quite the mission. Also the state trooper noticed that the engine cover at the back of the bus was raised so he gave the driver a ticket.
New bus driver versus the old driver
6 hours later, with a very brief (ten minute) stop in between, we arrived in a small town 2 hours from Kansas City. The driver disappeared without having said a word to any of the passengers during the entire trip. The new driver got on with a black notebook and walked thru the bus endlessly noting things in the notebook and then back off the bus and a couple of times around again busily scribbling in his notebook. He then came on and made an announcement; the bus was going to be impounded, however he first had to drive the bus two hours to Kansas City (he had no choice) where it would be taken out of service. We would switch buses and continue 4 hours to St. Louis. What about the fact that we were two hours behind schedule? What about missed connections? He would do his best but no guarantees.
That was my introduction to Kansas.
The driver in the previous segment who did the notebook check and impounded the bus in Kansas City was the best driver I've ever encountered. An Afro American age about 40, he was all spit and polish and his uniform had sharp creases as tho it was brand new. More importantly he was efficient, courteous, answered all questions and drove that bus as fast as I've ever seen a Greyhound bus driven. We passed everybody on the road and the irony was he was breaking the law virtually every mile of the way (way over the speed limit). By the time we got to St. Louis he had shaved off an hour and a half from the two hours we were behind, and I think everybody made their connections. We got to St. Louis at 3 am and I got in a line to take a further bus to Chicago. There were no wickets open - no info or ticket sales - just a lot of people standing around.
Switching buses
I got a strange feeling while I was in line to go to Chicago. The sign listed a bunch of towns in Illinois and the final destination of 93rd street in Chicago. As far as I can recall the main station in Chicago was downtown on a street named after a president. I checked with a fellow traveller in the lineup and his ticket said arrival in Chicago at 930am. That meant it was a milk run and also if I had to do an intercity transfer in Chicago and then catch a Detroit bus, well what time would I eventually arrive in Detroit?? It did not compute well. No go.Last minute I made a decision and switched lines to the New York bus via Dayton, Ohio. I just made it and I was the last passenger to board. The driver couldn't tell me anything about connections to Detroit but my gut decision turned out later to be the right one.
From St. Louis onwards
If the last driver (before St Louis) was the best one I ever encountered, the next one was the most skilled. We left St Louis at 330am and drove the rest of the night at high speeds along twisting, turning back roads all the way to Terre Haute, Indiana. How do I know they were back roads? The bus seemed to take over most of the pavement on these narrow roads, when headlights appeared at the last second the driver would pull over and you could hear the right wheels on the shoulder. The roads seemed to have dips and bumps, at times we seemed to be flying, alternating with swaying and rattles on the bumps. Lots of curves too and the driver had a professional way of running the numerous stop signs we encountered. Forget about sleep.
We entered Terre Haute just as the night was starting to dim, the prelude to dawn. Terre Haute didn't have a proper bus depot - the drop off was in front of a hair salon. Lots of back streets and I managed to enjoy a nice sunrise over farmers fields on the way to Indianapolis.
Indianapolis had the first bus depot since St. Louis, in fact it was a cavernous space - much too big even for Greyhound! I took advantage to enquire about a bus to Detroit. It was 930am when I enquired and the bus didn't arrive in Detroit until 6pm. I had a connection to Canada leaving at 6pm from Detroit. Would I make it? Sorry sir, no guarantees. If you had wanted to make that connection you would have had to leave here at 6am and arrive in Detroit at 1pm. I got back on the same bus (for some reason it had an hour and a half down time in Indianapolis) and arrived in Dayton, Ohio at 1230pm.
In Dayton we had to wait until 3:15 pm for the Detroit bus out of Cincinnati.
Dayton also had a cavernous depot, and it was also brand new. (the paint had not quite dried on the walls yet) The odour was unbearable so I had to do most of my waiting outside.
Luckily it was a very nice day (temperature around 20 C). The kind of day it was nice to wander around in but nowhere to check my luggage.
The bus to Detroit arrived half an hour late. I mentioned my connection in Detroit to Canada to the driver but he just shrugged. He was a character. He wore bicycle racing gloves with only the tips of the fingers showing, aviator sunglasses, and was about 50 pounds overweight and effeminate in his movements. He also acted like a stewardess on West Jet flights - walking down the aisles at every stop to do head counts and bending over for personal chats with some of the passengers.
I would like to add that I was one of three white passengers on the bus, the rest were Afro American. Why did that matter?
On the way a conversation started that got louder and louder. A few aggressive males (and one aggressive female) started telling stories about their experiences in the southern US with white gangs. In between was commentary about news from Detroit. Apparently in the last week tensions had reached a high with a dozen drive by shootings (and killings) in the Detroit area. I pretended to sleep through it all.
Missed bus to Canada
When the bus arrived in Detroit I discovered I had missed the bus to Canada by 10 minutes. When was the next one? 1:45 am. What to do? I took my luggage over to the fast food machines and looked everything over and appeared dissatisfied.
I then went back to the sitting area for a short while until I saw a couple of cabs arrive up front. I then went out and grabbed a cab and told the driver I wanted to go downtown to get something to eat. After a couple of blocks I changed my mind and told him to take me directly to the border crossing. He told me it would be a flat fee of $10. (the border was only a couple of blocks away). Fine. (what was $10 in exchange for my life?) He then dropped me off at the nearest main intersection to the border claiming he couldn't go any further as that was US Customs territory.
The tunnel entrance was still a couple of hundred yards away. At the corner there were groups of black teenagers hanging out. I was extremely nervous. I ignored taunts and whistles and luckily nothing else happened. I walked rapidly to the tunnel entrance and just before was a bus shelter with several people waiting.
Canada
The tunnel bus (under the St. Clair River and the border crossing between Detroit USA and Windsor Canada) cost $4 and arrived every 15 minutes.
After the previous incidents the ride was smooth. I didn't have sufficient coinage (just bills) so the driver gave me a free ride. Even customs was friendly. Welcome to Canada -bienvenue. The bus even provided valet service to the Greyhound terminal. The feeling of freedom was intoxicating! At the Greyhound terminal the friendly security guard allowed me to stow my luggage in his office for free and as long as I wanted! (I bought him a coffee) He even persuaded me to wait for the 2am bus (rather than getting a hotel room) and unencumbered I had an unexpected evening on the town.
After some filling food at a Chinese restaurant I enjoyed relaxing at one of Windsor’s finest establishments for a couple of hours and quaffing some quality beer.
The wait for the 2 am bus (coming from Detroit) on the Canadian side was very pleasant.
It was an all night run to Hamilton and then Toronto and the driver cranked the heat (a trick to get rowdy passengers to sleep quickly) and I had no problems passing out (helped by the beer and the relief of being in Canada).
4 hours later we arrived in Hamilton, a quick stop and on to T.O.
In Toronto I had a two hour wait but it passed like nothing and then boarded the bus to Kitchener. Two hours later, shortly before noon, and 70 hours after leaving Flagstaff, Arizona I arrived on my doorstep.
When the bus arrived in Detroit I discovered I had missed the bus to Canada by 10 minutes. When was the next one? 1:45 am. What to do? I took my luggage over to the fast food machines and looked everything over and appeared dissatisfied.
I then went back to the sitting area for a short while until I saw a couple of cabs arrive up front. I then went out and grabbed a cab and told the driver I wanted to go downtown to get something to eat. After a couple of blocks I changed my mind and told him to take me directly to the border crossing. He told me it would be a flat fee of $10. (the border was only a couple of blocks away). Fine. (what was $10 in exchange for my life?) He then dropped me off at the nearest main intersection to the border claiming he couldn't go any further as that was US Customs territory.
The tunnel entrance was still a couple of hundred yards away. At the corner there were groups of black teenagers hanging out. I was extremely nervous. I ignored taunts and whistles and luckily nothing else happened. I walked rapidly to the tunnel entrance and just before was a bus shelter with several people waiting.
Canada
The tunnel bus (under the St. Clair River and the border crossing between Detroit USA and Windsor Canada) cost $4 and arrived every 15 minutes.
After the previous incidents the ride was smooth. I didn't have sufficient coinage (just bills) so the driver gave me a free ride. Even customs was friendly. Welcome to Canada -bienvenue. The bus even provided valet service to the Greyhound terminal. The feeling of freedom was intoxicating! At the Greyhound terminal the friendly security guard allowed me to stow my luggage in his office for free and as long as I wanted! (I bought him a coffee) He even persuaded me to wait for the 2am bus (rather than getting a hotel room) and unencumbered I had an unexpected evening on the town.
After some filling food at a Chinese restaurant I enjoyed relaxing at one of Windsor’s finest establishments for a couple of hours and quaffing some quality beer.
The wait for the 2 am bus (coming from Detroit) on the Canadian side was very pleasant.
It was an all night run to Hamilton and then Toronto and the driver cranked the heat (a trick to get rowdy passengers to sleep quickly) and I had no problems passing out (helped by the beer and the relief of being in Canada).
4 hours later we arrived in Hamilton, a quick stop and on to T.O.
In Toronto I had a two hour wait but it passed like nothing and then boarded the bus to Kitchener. Two hours later, shortly before noon, and 70 hours after leaving Flagstaff, Arizona I arrived on my doorstep.
Susan Polgar has moved her SPICE College to Webster University in St. Louis and continues to do her wonderful work in chess.
Susan Polgar has moved her SPICE College to Webster University in St. Louis and continues to do her wonderful work in chess.
Brampton's Vivian Lane Chess Tables Grand Opening
I must say Brampton has the start of a very nice outdoor chess program. Yesterday I was invited down for the Grand Opening of the Vivian Lane Chess Tables. Due to Via Rail being a half hour late I missed the opening ceremonies and speeches.
When the organizers realized I had arrived they rushed around and setup a 3 board blindfold exhibition against players selected from casual play at the tables. In the mean time I wandered around and observed that each individual table had a gold plaque dedicated to the local leading family who had sponsored each table (and I even met two of the families after my blindfold performance!).
Vivian Lane is a bright, cheery, revitalized (classy even) thoroughfare that runs from the Rose Theatre to Main Street. The Rose Theatre is a lavish luxurious brand new theatre which is the center of the arts and cultural community in Brampton. Very impressive!
In honour of the day a local artist had carved two impressive ice sculptures - one a chess board and chess set - the other a large gorgeous chess knight. Main Street was full with the booths of a very popular flea market and there were many passersby.
A local medieval group did some skirmishing and at the start of my blindfold simul a shield was donated for me to hold (maybe they thought I needed protection?) A blindfold cut from a vivid blue sign banner (impromptu planning) was wrapped around my eyes and I proceeded with white in all three games.
I rapidly achieved the advantage in all the games winning pieces in every one. I achieved checkmate on the middle board but on the 1st board I remembered in one of my opening conversations when I first arrived that Brampton had a very large East Indian population (more than 30% of its citizens). Anyways I happened to notice that my opponent on this board was Indian by name of Saraharan. Up two pieces I overlooked a checkmate. That really got the crowd going.
Shortly after I managed a breakthrough on board 3 and a few moves from checkmate my opponent resigned. After I took my blindfold off the mayor arrived. She apologized for being called away and insisted that we play a casual game.
I have to admit I was impressed by Mayor Susan Fennell's chess abilities. She started with 1.f4 but her play was impeccable from there. I attacked with 1...e5 2.fxe5 d6 but here she played 3.Nf3 and managed to fianchetto her bishop on g2 and castle and was better out of the opening! As she was attacking my f7 square! - her cellphone rang and the distraction made her overlook my sneaky defence of that square. She refused a take back and so I offered a draw which she happily accepted. I told her imo she was the best chessplayer amongst all the mayors out there and now she is planning to play Mayor Zehr of Kitchener at Oktoberfest.
Just after our game finished a parade started on Main Street. The parade was full of multicultural groups, flowers (apparently Brampton is flower city), and the Shriners in many different performances. Of course the Shriners had their wonderful motorized go karts with 80 yr old men driving pretending to be kids and many other wacky and wonderful attractions.
After the parade I went to City Hall and donated a board - personalized with magic marker about her playing me and the date and occasion - and of course a chess set - which I hope she uses to beat Mayor Zehr! I then spent the rest of the afternoon touring around downtown Brampton - it really is a lovely old city - lots of heritage sites and many beautiful new buildings and best of all they have started a very promising chess initiative.
Photo from St. Louis Today website: www.STLtoday.com
Brantford Harmony Square Grand Opening
The Grand Opening of Harmony Square and the chess program was a great success Saturday! The City of Brantford made it into a weekend festival with many highlight performances over Saturday and Sunday. The live chess game played between Brantford's Mayor Hancock and Brantford County Mayor Eddy and enacted by the Society for Creative Anachronisms was the opening act and was seen by thousands of spectators.
I was chauffeured to Brantford and spent the night courtesy of Chateau Gash (the lovely home of Rob and Sharon Gashgarian). The next morning the weather was perfect and we spent an hour taping the outline of the giant chessboard squares (each square was 4 ft squared) in Harmony Square to get the event started.
The Society for Creative Anachronisms gathered in Victoria Park at 1030am, the members coming from several chapters across southwestern Ontario (Sarnia, London, Kitchener, Waterloo, Guelph, Brantford, Hamilton and Niagara Region). They had a full complement of actors - more than enough for 32 chess pieces. They were piped in by the Royal Highlanders and after a two block parade arrived in Harmony Square and the game started at 11am.
Mayor Eddy as guest was given the white pieces by Mayor Hancock of Brantford. Mayor Hancock had played chess in high school and was still pretty familiar with piece coordination and as I was his advisor I figured it would be an easy match. Mayor Eddy knew the moves but castling was new to him. His advisor Mark Smith was formerly on the Jamaican Chess Olympic Team and I believe is Brantford's current chess champion. Mark Smith turned out to be a very sneaky chess player and the black queen almost got trapped. In a brilliant burst of inspiration I and Mayor Hancock with the help of eight year old Joey (a councillor's son who was a sharp young whippersnapper of a player) managed to turn the game around and deliver checkmate on the board.
My job as advisor was fraught with peril as I had to make adjustments to the old descriptive notation and make the Town Crier understand what I was talking about. 8 yr old Joey almost negotiated me out of the advisor's job as he wanted it (but I managed to successfully bribe him). The Society for Creative Anachronisms foiled our checkmate by insisting on battling out every capture and whoever would win the battle would stay on the board. In the final two battles with the black queen supported by the black rook checkmating the white king, the white king fought valiantly and desperately and defeated both the black queen and the black rook.
The two mayors proceeded to have a laughing fit and agreed to an honourable draw. It was a great pleasure being chess advisor. Both mayors were extremely friendly and witty and Councillor Bradford was an amazing colour commentator embellishing each battle with a description of sequences of local political battles (developer so and so against the mayor, councillor so and so vs the mayor on such and such - a popular issue, the youth action committee vs a neighbourhood association, etc).
A former mayor who was over 80 yrs old gave a fantastic loud vocal rendition of O Canada. She was cheered wildly by the crowd. The crowd was very supportive even cheering on all the fervent speech making by the mayors, members of parliament, and corporate representatives and the press was plentiful and handy with cameras and interviews.
After the harrowing stress of my job as chess advisor I admit I thoroughly enjoyed browsing thru and tasting many of the wonderful exotic food samples along the avenue of taste booths setup by the local eateries, knowing that my samples were paid for by my enterprising hosts - the City of Brantford.
I want to especially thank Mayor Hancock, Mayor Eddy, Councillor Bradford, Laurie - head of Special Events of the City of Brantford, the Society for Creative Anachronisms for being so friendly and good at what they do best, my fellow chess advisor Mark Smith, and last but not least Rob and Sharon Gashgarian for such a great time.
Photo credit: Scholastic Center and Chess Club of St. Louis
Adventure in St. Louis Chess Club
For quite some time I have wanted to visit the St. Louis Chess Club (reported to be the best chess club in North America). On their excellent website, I noticed a local tournament : the Bill Wright St. Louis Open which was held last weekend. What attracted me was that 7 grandmasters were listed to play including the US Champion Hikaru Nakamura.
I decided to book a flight and eagerly awaited an adventurous trip to St. Louis (I had never been there before). After much google research I planned my trip and it was not easy. Since 2001 mass transit has virtually disappeared to US links from the Canadian side. The famous trains from Toronto to Chicago are gone. (no more) Plane trips from Toronto to St Louis are about $1000 or more.
The best I could do was a 5 hour Greyhound trip (milk run) to Detroit and than hope to get to the Detroit Airport. (I had booked a flight from Detroit to St. Louis for $200 return) When I arrived at Detroit Greyhound I had a plan to find the SMART bus to Detroit Airport but no one knew where to catch it. Also we had a two hour delay at Customs so I had about an hour and a half to flight time (time pressure).
Lucky I am a quick thinker and I remembered the MGM Casino (from my google search) was close by. After a quick cab ride I arrived at the MGM and immediately approached the front desk. I will tell you now those folks are top notch professionals. The gentleman behind the desk (a tall (a full head taller than me!) slim Afro-American dressed in an immaculate elegant black suit listened patiently to my rushed story and then recommended the only solution to my dilemma - he ordered a Town Car immediately. While waiting 10 minutes for my ride I was offered a complimentary coffee, free bottled water, and chocolates and the daily newspaper! (even though I was not registered at the casino)
My driver drove at 90 miles an hour (I could see the speedometer from the back seat) down the 94 to the airport. He did the trip in less than 15 minutes weaving in and out of heavy traffic. At the airport exit there was a traffic jam which he skillfully avoided (talk about luck) I made my flight right on time. The flight itself was smooth. 1 hour and 15 minutes later we touched down in St Louis in golden sunshine - 30 C weather.
St. Louis is stunningly beautiful. Magnolia trees and millions of flowers and luscious plants line the boulevards. I stayed at the Water Tower Inn at St. Louis University. It had free continental breakfast (no skimping on anything and great coffee!) and more importantly free shuttle service to any of its properties. I would recommend it to anyone. It took me a little while to work out the downtown map but I finally noticed that the farthest building was about a half mile from my destination (the chess club) Bingo - a free ride with a short walk!
The St. Louis Chess Club itself is located on Maryland Avenue in the Central West End. The Central West End is about a 20 block radius of wealthy businesses and homes bordered by Forest Park (the second biggest city park in the US) The district contains at least 500 posh cafes and bars (I would say at least 5 times bigger than Yorkville in Toronto) and the night life is booming!
I spent Friday and Saturday evening touring around on foot just watching (no time for drinking or a long stay at one cafe). I spotted 4 Indian motorcycles (the collectibles not First Nations), several exotic cars including a Hispano Suizi limo from the 30's, several hundred absolutely gorgeous women, some interesting street entertainers, a monkey, some parrots and snakes, - in short I had a very interesting time.
The club itself was awe inspiring. Millions of dollars and much fine detailed planning has been poured into that club. Large 4 foot screened TVs covered the walls and relayed played moves instantaneously. The club has 3 floors and is open 7 days a week. The top floor alone luxuriously seats more than 100 players, (comfortably I would say 150 max but Canadian organizers could easily squeeze
in 200)
Photo: Hans Jung playing Razvan Preotu, youngest Canadian Grand Master, at the outdoor tables in front of St. Louis Chess Club
The main floor is reserved for the main reception area, plenty of display items and the TD headquarters (as well as washrooms, kitchen etc) The bottom floor seated 60 luxuriously. The tables were expensive wood and the chairs almost like thrones. The pieces and boards high quality wood. There were 12 concrete chess tables outside with sign out pieces for each at the reception desk. The club is surrounded by cafes with extensive outdoor patios.
In the tournament itself GM Nakamura found himself a half point back with one round to go. Luckily the leaders (GM Ramirez - the Costa Rican prodigy and GM Hess - the high school phenom) drew so there was a 4 way tie for first (including GM Friedel). The turnout was 136! (they expected 60). The Open section had over 80 players including 40 A class players, 20 experts, and 16 masters. There were no accelerated pairings (which I am sure was planned) so that club members would have maximum chance to play both masters and win prizes. Good thinking.
I myself played 4 1900's and one 1700. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and highly recommend a visit to the fabulous St. Louis Chess Club to anyone. (oh yes - my entire trip cost me $600 for 4 days - a bargain) And before anyone else gets any ideas I am their first
Canadian member!!
Photo credit: John Upper and Chess Canada
SPICE CUP and St Louis impressions
Had an impressively awesome time at the SPICE CUP and wanted to share. The field had 14 star youth players and it was an intense joy watching the upsets unfold and seeing grandmasters get taken down and watching them hurt their heads (I think it was even more of a pleasure because I remember how hard it has been for me over the years playing countless strong juniors).
Kayden Troff, Sam Sevian, Jeffrey Xiong, Ruifeng Liu, Akshat Chandri, Sarah Chiang amongst others were taking upsets and the grandmasters were not having it their usual smooth way. Lovely! My tournament play was incredibly stressful and I hurt my head by the combination of tough games and partying every evening.
I also blundered before the event. How so? I went to visit my almost 90 yr old mother for Thanksgiving on Monday and she insisted on making Thanksgiving dinner for me and that I should stay the night. I knew however that she goes to bed awful early and that I would have to get up awful early to start my journey to St Louis. So I left after the meal and ended up taking a 2am shuttle to Detroit airport and got very little sleep before, during, and after.
I was still not recovered at breakfast on Wednesday morning. However my day soon changed dramatically and became magical. I was sitting in the hotel restaurant unshaven and unshowered, keeping my head down, having my first breakfast in 48 hours and really enjoying it when a voice interrrupted: Hello sir how are you doing? I looked up and a gentleman very dapper in a full business suit with a silk handkerchief in the breast pocket shook my hand and said: Hi Im Pete Zes the owner of the hotel and continue to chat for almost a half hour! Several stories later I was the one who brought it to an end! WoW! Apparently he is 86 yrs old and looks 60 and acts 40ish - razor sharp mind and loves what he does. He even told me he has relatives in TO and I should look them up! Now Ive stayed in hundreds of hotels in my time but have never met an owner before! What promotion - but its not just promotion - he could have done that in less than a minute - this was a genuine friendly welcome from an amazing character! Needless to say I will promote his hotel any time I can.
Had an impressively awesome time at the SPICE CUP and wanted to share. The field had 14 star youth players and it was an intense joy watching the upsets unfold and seeing grandmasters get taken down and watching them hurt their heads (I think it was even more of a pleasure because I remember how hard it has been for me over the years playing countless strong juniors).
Kayden Troff, Sam Sevian, Jeffrey Xiong, Ruifeng Liu, Akshat Chandri, Sarah Chiang amongst others were taking upsets and the grandmasters were not having it their usual smooth way. Lovely! My tournament play was incredibly stressful and I hurt my head by the combination of tough games and partying every evening.
I also blundered before the event. How so? I went to visit my almost 90 yr old mother for Thanksgiving on Monday and she insisted on making Thanksgiving dinner for me and that I should stay the night. I knew however that she goes to bed awful early and that I would have to get up awful early to start my journey to St Louis. So I left after the meal and ended up taking a 2am shuttle to Detroit airport and got very little sleep before, during, and after.
I was still not recovered at breakfast on Wednesday morning. However my day soon changed dramatically and became magical. I was sitting in the hotel restaurant unshaven and unshowered, keeping my head down, having my first breakfast in 48 hours and really enjoying it when a voice interrrupted: Hello sir how are you doing? I looked up and a gentleman very dapper in a full business suit with a silk handkerchief in the breast pocket shook my hand and said: Hi Im Pete Zes the owner of the hotel and continue to chat for almost a half hour! Several stories later I was the one who brought it to an end! WoW! Apparently he is 86 yrs old and looks 60 and acts 40ish - razor sharp mind and loves what he does. He even told me he has relatives in TO and I should look them up! Now Ive stayed in hundreds of hotels in my time but have never met an owner before! What promotion - but its not just promotion - he could have done that in less than a minute - this was a genuine friendly welcome from an amazing character! Needless to say I will promote his hotel any time I can.
So.... the hotel is the Crowne Plaza and it is in Clayton (pop. about 16000) For those of you that dont know St.Louis well it consists of more than 100 municipalities all with their own unique charms. (ok,ok East St. Louis is basically a ghetto and very depressed and there are other nasty areas) However on the whole St Louis is a wonderful area to get to know - many attractions and once you break the ice very friendly.
The Crowne Plaza was a very classy hotel, heritage decor, old wood finely polished, classy pictures on the walls but modern touches where they were needed. Grand piano in the foyer, concierge wearing top hat and tails, music playing continually in the lobby - sounded like a mechanical piano with show tunes from the 40's and 50's. Service was way beyond excellent.
When I first got to my room I received a call from the desk asking if every thing was ok and how could they help? Service staff was always friendly, helpful and prompt. I carried a bunch of one dollar bills in my pocket - small tips go a long way. The complimentary breakfast each day was a lavish buffet on which you could load up for two meals and on top of that they had a sous chef who would make you choice of fresh omelettes, pancakes, any kind of egg base, all free of charge. Awesome! Complimentary coffee (excellent quality) in the lobby until mid afternoon.
Even the hotel shuttle service obliged when I arranged transport (free of charge!) in advance to the St Louis club 5 miles away in the Central West End. (I did that 4 times!) Clayton itself was full of interesting places. The local Walgreens (like our Shoppers Drug Mart but much bigger - far more variety) had Sam Adams Oktoberfest Lager on sale (can't get it here in Canada) and I helped myself. There was a lovely Jewish deli so I had smoked sardines for a treat - goes very well with Sams.
On Thursday I had a craving for ice cream and discovered an old fashioned drug store soda fountain from the 30's or 40's still operating the old equipment (called Oh Pie! Oh My! - stupidest name I've ever heard) but for some reason they stopped serving ice cream at 3pm. Fortunately the upscale bar next door served fantastic ice cream even tho I was definitely their most under dressed customer.
The next day I went back despite the stupid name and service because I wanted an old fashioned banana split and it sure was good. They were bizarre people but very friendly. They had an initiation trick for new customers. The owner had a stuffed toy monkey and her helper stood at the other end of the soda fountain and held up a ring the size of a hula hoop that had sparkling lights all around it and blew thru it with liquid fire coming from her mouth. The idea was they both would mutter some gibberish and the owner would toss the flying monkey thru the hoop from about 50 feet away and if it missed the actual hoop and didn't catch fire then you were lucky. I guess I was lucky. The soda fountain shoppe also had bizarre gifts and they hooked me. I ended up buying a kazoo, a jaw harp, and some weird harmonica as gifts for my granddaughter just to help drive my son crazy.
The Crowne Plaza was a very classy hotel, heritage decor, old wood finely polished, classy pictures on the walls but modern touches where they were needed. Grand piano in the foyer, concierge wearing top hat and tails, music playing continually in the lobby - sounded like a mechanical piano with show tunes from the 40's and 50's. Service was way beyond excellent.
When I first got to my room I received a call from the desk asking if every thing was ok and how could they help? Service staff was always friendly, helpful and prompt. I carried a bunch of one dollar bills in my pocket - small tips go a long way. The complimentary breakfast each day was a lavish buffet on which you could load up for two meals and on top of that they had a sous chef who would make you choice of fresh omelettes, pancakes, any kind of egg base, all free of charge. Awesome! Complimentary coffee (excellent quality) in the lobby until mid afternoon.
Even the hotel shuttle service obliged when I arranged transport (free of charge!) in advance to the St Louis club 5 miles away in the Central West End. (I did that 4 times!) Clayton itself was full of interesting places. The local Walgreens (like our Shoppers Drug Mart but much bigger - far more variety) had Sam Adams Oktoberfest Lager on sale (can't get it here in Canada) and I helped myself. There was a lovely Jewish deli so I had smoked sardines for a treat - goes very well with Sams.
On Thursday I had a craving for ice cream and discovered an old fashioned drug store soda fountain from the 30's or 40's still operating the old equipment (called Oh Pie! Oh My! - stupidest name I've ever heard) but for some reason they stopped serving ice cream at 3pm. Fortunately the upscale bar next door served fantastic ice cream even tho I was definitely their most under dressed customer.
The next day I went back despite the stupid name and service because I wanted an old fashioned banana split and it sure was good. They were bizarre people but very friendly. They had an initiation trick for new customers. The owner had a stuffed toy monkey and her helper stood at the other end of the soda fountain and held up a ring the size of a hula hoop that had sparkling lights all around it and blew thru it with liquid fire coming from her mouth. The idea was they both would mutter some gibberish and the owner would toss the flying monkey thru the hoop from about 50 feet away and if it missed the actual hoop and didn't catch fire then you were lucky. I guess I was lucky. The soda fountain shoppe also had bizarre gifts and they hooked me. I ended up buying a kazoo, a jaw harp, and some weird harmonica as gifts for my granddaughter just to help drive my son crazy.
On the Wednesday after meeting the owner of the hotel the rest of the day was magical. In the afternoon between rounds I went to the St Louis Club and enquired who the grandmaster in residence was. Was it Yasser? No, unfortunately Yasser has gone back to Europe until February. Irina Krush is here for a week and she is doing lectures tonight. Good, even better.
I played a quick second round, jumped in the shuttle and arrived towards the end of Irina's intermediate lecture. As a teacher it was nice to see how it was presented to intermediate students (mainly B and C category) and how it naturally evolved and continued into a lecture for advanced students. Her major theme which she saved until the end of the advanced lecture was the initiative - the quest to take it, your duty as a player to grab the initiative when you can, and the challenges doing so. Her method was to present interesting positions and ask questions.
One was a position where there was a bizarre forcing line which sacked the queen. Irina asked how many people here would do this. I was the only one but I prompted: Yes but I'm crazy. She then asked me for my calculations and I saw it thru to the critical position but then I said now just ask me about normal positions. I wont be able to solve them.
Her lecture so inspired me I produced the following game: Jung - Hendrickson, Spice Cup 2013, 1.Nc3 d5 2.e4 d4 3.Nce2 e5 4.Ng3 Be6 5.Bb5+ c6 6.Ba4 Nd7 7.Bb3 Nc5 8.Bxe6 Nxe6 9.Nf3 f6 10.0-0 Qd7 11.d3 0-0-0 12.a4 g6 13.Nd2 h5 14.Nc4 Ne7 15.Bd2 h4 16.Ne2 g5 17.Nc1 Nf4 18.Bb4 Neg6 19.Bxf8 Rdxf8 20.Nb3 b6 21.a5 b5 22.Nb6+ axb6 23.axb6 Kb8 24.Ra7 Qxa7 25.bxa7+ Ka8 26.Qa1 Rh7 27.Qa6 Rc7 28.Ra1 Rff7 29.Qb6 Rc8 30.Nc5 g4 31.Ra6 g3 32.fxg3 hxg3 33.hxg3 Nh5 34.Qa5 Rfc7 35.Rb6 Nf8 36.Rb8+ Rxb8 37.Qxc7 1-0
Afterwards I got what I call a grandmaster sandwich picture - me between two GM's and then a real treat - we went out for a late dinner and two GM's discussed war stories and I didnt even get stuck with the bill!
I played a quick second round, jumped in the shuttle and arrived towards the end of Irina's intermediate lecture. As a teacher it was nice to see how it was presented to intermediate students (mainly B and C category) and how it naturally evolved and continued into a lecture for advanced students. Her major theme which she saved until the end of the advanced lecture was the initiative - the quest to take it, your duty as a player to grab the initiative when you can, and the challenges doing so. Her method was to present interesting positions and ask questions.
One was a position where there was a bizarre forcing line which sacked the queen. Irina asked how many people here would do this. I was the only one but I prompted: Yes but I'm crazy. She then asked me for my calculations and I saw it thru to the critical position but then I said now just ask me about normal positions. I wont be able to solve them.
Her lecture so inspired me I produced the following game: Jung - Hendrickson, Spice Cup 2013, 1.Nc3 d5 2.e4 d4 3.Nce2 e5 4.Ng3 Be6 5.Bb5+ c6 6.Ba4 Nd7 7.Bb3 Nc5 8.Bxe6 Nxe6 9.Nf3 f6 10.0-0 Qd7 11.d3 0-0-0 12.a4 g6 13.Nd2 h5 14.Nc4 Ne7 15.Bd2 h4 16.Ne2 g5 17.Nc1 Nf4 18.Bb4 Neg6 19.Bxf8 Rdxf8 20.Nb3 b6 21.a5 b5 22.Nb6+ axb6 23.axb6 Kb8 24.Ra7 Qxa7 25.bxa7+ Ka8 26.Qa1 Rh7 27.Qa6 Rc7 28.Ra1 Rff7 29.Qb6 Rc8 30.Nc5 g4 31.Ra6 g3 32.fxg3 hxg3 33.hxg3 Nh5 34.Qa5 Rfc7 35.Rb6 Nf8 36.Rb8+ Rxb8 37.Qxc7 1-0
Afterwards I got what I call a grandmaster sandwich picture - me between two GM's and then a real treat - we went out for a late dinner and two GM's discussed war stories and I didnt even get stuck with the bill!
Friday I needed to go for a walk and headed out east towards Forest Park along Forsyth Blvd. For those of you who don't know St Louis, Forsyth Blvd is Millionaires Row. Gated estates worth multi millions line both sides of the street, large sprawling mansions almost hidden by acres of trees along one stretch of about half a mile. Then past Washington University and many blocks of luxurious homes, a very pleasant walk of about 3 miles, and then Forest Park.
St Louis planned well with this central jewel of a park. In 1900 a major chunk of land (about 3 miles by two miles) was set aside for the 1904 Worlds Fair and it is quite a showpiece. Several pavilions from the fair are still standing.
There are lots of interesting sites to visit. An 18 hole golf course inhabits one corner of the park. One of the US's oldest and classiest zoo's inhabits another corner and I went to see that last time.
This time I visited the art gallery. It is on the scale of a mini Versailles. Stunning. In front a statue of Louis emperor of France 30 ft high on a giant stallion stands guard over sloping lawns and spectacular lake sized fountains.
Photo credit: Tripadvisor.com
In the art gallery what to see? Many rooms full of amazing treasures and dozens of security guards. Beautiful sculptures by Rodin, a couple of fabulous paintings of incredible scenes (incredible shades of light!) by Gainsborough caught my eye. Most spectacular were two incredible floor to ceiling (about 20 ft high and 12 ft wide) paintings by Robert, one called the Ruins of Tivoli and the other I don't recall (but some other amazing Roman ruins). So much in so little time.
Back for more chess. After my evening round game I went back to the St Louis club and met Adam Eubanks, an interesting character that I met on Wednesday night. He had paid the bill for dinner and so I bought him a drink at a classy Scottish pub two doors down from the chess club. The place was in full swing (Friday night) Lots of gorgeous young couples, older musicians and artists, and other characters. We just sat in a corner, observed, listened and had a great conversation about writing over 20 yr old Scotch. Adam is a budding writer and I hope to read his book some day. Wordsmiths and writing craftsmanship, gotta love it. A memorable evening coming off the high of a very nice chess game.