Sunday, October 2, 2016

Great moments in patriotic sporting events

As of last summer, here's about all I could have told you about the Ryder Cup:
1. It is golf*.
2. The iteration played a couple of years ago became known, if you're European, as "The Miracle at Medinah", but if you're American, as "The Meltdown at Medinah".  Apparently we lost in crushing fashion.  Medinah is somewhere in the United States but I can't be more specific than that.

 Then last fall, I found out that the 2016 Ryder Cup was going to be held in Chaska, on a course about an hour from my house.  On a whim, I signed up for the ticket lottery.  I've never been to a golf tournament, and I certainly didn't feel qualified to attend something as prestigious as the Ryder Cup, but signing up for the ticket lottery was free so what the heck.

 A short time later I received an email outlining the ticket lottery procedures.  Due to the extreme demand for tickets, a random selection process would take place to determine who would have an opportunity to purchase tickets.  If I was lucky enough to get selected, I would be assigned to a group and given a window to purchase from whatever tickets were still available.

 Two long months went by, but in early December I got a congratulatory email from the PGA, informing me that my registration had been chosen from the waitlist!  And placed in Group K!  My window to purchase tickets would open the following Wednesday!!!

 I got to work assembling my entourage.  Emily was immediately on board with going, if for no other reason than, quote: "That Rory, he's adooooorable!"  Mike and Kiki, legit golf enthusiasts, were also in.

 I also invited a friend(?) who loves golf more than anyone I've ever met.  Loves watching it, loves playing it, everything.  When we met, and for several months afterward, both his Twitter bio and header pictures were of him golfing**.  In July of this year, he wrote a long form, minute-by-minute account of the Open Championship.  He even spearheaded a (one-man) campaign to get his favorite golfer named to the Ryder Cup team.  So yeah, he really, really likes golf and...he turned me down.  This made me feel as pathetic as Jordan Spieth at the 2016 Masters.  If you don't speak golf, Jordan Spieth at the 2016 Masters translates to major loser***.

 Fine, whatever, I'd only be allowed to purchase four tickets per session anyway.  Wednesday arrived and I surreptitiously snuck my phone out during the mandatory work meeting I was forced to attend enjoying and fully engaged in because work is awesome!  I logged on to the PGA ticketing web site and somehow, even all the way down in Group K, was able to select four all-day passes for the Saturday session.  I could barely believe my luck, and completed the transaction as quickly as possible.

 And so that is how I found myself wearing red, white and blue Zubaz, waiting in line for the complimentary Ryder Cup shuttle bus, just before 7:00am, with an astonishingly but perhaps not unexpectedly high number of white people****.

 Oh, the Zubaz.  Let me explain.






 In the end, we agreed these kitten shirts were both fiercely patriotic and fiercely adorable, and the Zubaz were just straight up fierce.  


Okay, so the shuttle bus drove through the corn fields of southern Minnesota, and dropped us off at Hazeltine National Golf Club.  At this point, I was really relying on Mike to take the lead, as this was maybe the third time in my life I've been on a regulation (i.e. non-mini) golf course.  Thankfully he was up to the task.  We got the Ryder Cup app to work just long enough to pull up a course map, and set off to the far end of the first hole, which was pretty cool.  

I believe that's either Jimmy Walker or Zach Johnson teeing off there.  But to be honest I can't be sure; I should have taken notes while I was out there because the zoom on the iPhone***** leaves much to be desired.  

 Mike strategized that it was early enough to head to one of the mid-course holes and maybe beat some of the other fans to a good viewing spot.  We selected Hole 8, both because the hole was mid-course and short enough to see both the tee shots and the green, and because we were able to find it.  This turned out to be a great decision, and I'd have to say our time at Hole 8 was my favorite part of the day.  

 We did get a good viewing spot, and the hole layout was really very pretty-

It provided our first glimpse of the aforementioned Rory McIlroy-

We got to cheer and get just a little rowdy when Phil Mickelson drained this 50 foot putt-




 And then we got to watch what we're pretty sure was Phil chastising Rickie Fowler for setting up such a difficult putt in the first place-

Fun times.

 (Full disclosure- Hole 8 was not Mike's favorite hole of the day.  He was very concerned that the antennae on my star-spangled head band were blocking other people's view, and did not think that my response of "well then they should have gotten here early enough to not be behind me" justified my not taking the headband off.)  (I mean, it is possible that he was mostly concerned that the antennae were blocking his view.)

After Hole 8, we headed toward Hole 16.  Alas, so did everyone else.  So we went to Hole 17 instead.  This was actually pretty great because we were able to stand right up against the rope, fairly close to the tee box.  Hole 17 is where we spied team captain Davis Love III and his sweet red kicks (seen here ignoring the crowd and probably doing something extremely vital to ensuring team success on his phone.) 

We also got to see Jordan Spieth and Patrick Reed lose this hole to Sergio Garcia and Rafa Cabrera Bello, which I'm sure had nothing to do with Tiger Woods lurking judgingly in the background the whole time.  

And thus ended the morning rounds.

 We headed next to Hole 7.  Since there was a break and it would be quite some time before the players arrived for their afternoon four-ball matches, we figured we could secure a good spot, and have some lunch and a nice little sit while we waited for play to resume.  The thing is, a lot of other people figured that too.  So we secured an okay spot.  It was not right up against the rope as we would have liked, but it was sort of in the middle so we could in theory see the entire hole.  (In actual practice, other peoples' heads made it kind of difficult to see the tee shots, but, to an earlier point, if I wanted to see that badly, maybe I should have gotten there early enough to not be behind them.)

 Hole 7 was neat because apparently it's Hazeltine's iconic hole.  And it's position along a creek and right up against the lake did make for a beautiful scene.  So it's no surprise that this is where we saw the bald eagle****** flying around.

Oh, you can't see the eagle because the zoom is so terrible?  No problem, I got you.

The fairway's position between the creek and the lake provided for some excitement as three (yes, 3!) different golfers sent their balls for a swim.  One of those golfers was Jordan Spieth, and his ball landed just beyond our field of vision, prompting one of the women beside us to ask her taller friends, repeatedly, "It's wet, but is it wet-wet?".  I didn't know if this was actual golf terminology, but it wasn't a good time to ask Mike.  He was busy using all of his patience not to get into a fight with the jabbermouths behind us- you know, the total bros to whom at one point he literally had to say "Look, I really want to be friends with you guys, but if you don't stop with the stupid comments, I'm not sure that's going to happen."

 Fun times.  

 After the action at Hole 7, we made our way back to the...well, to be honest I'm still not real sure on the layout of the course.  We tried to go to Hole 16 but once again it was, like, totes super-popular and there was not a good spot for us anywhere.  So we went back to Hole 17, this time closer to the green.  Emily had to leave around then to go to a wedding, which left Mike to save our spots while Kiki and I did some damage in the Ryder Cup gift shop.  I am wearing my new Captain's Pick t-shirt as I type this, and I can humbly report that I look great.

 The nice thing about attending a nationally-televised event is that there are cameramen on hand to capture all of your precious memories.  In this case, when play resumed on Hole 17, the excellent NBC Sports staff caught this great shot of me with my new friend Rory.


They were also able to capture Ryan Moore, J.B. Holmes and I celebrating together after the two of them won the hole.

Ryan and J.B. would go on to win their match, and as you may know the U.S. would go on to win the whole tournament, and I can't help but think that we were probably the good luck charms that made all the difference.

 In conclusion, here are some key takeaways from my Ryder Cup experience:

  • Rory McIlroy is much smaller than I thought he would be.  Like, I hate to make the obvious and stereotypical leprechaun connection, and yet stereotypes exist for a reason.
  • Emily is capable of displaying remarkable restraint, as evidenced by her only whispering "Somebody's closer!" maybe four times.
  • On the whole, I still think fall is only the third-best season.  But the weather on days like yesterday is hard to beat.
  • Patrick Reed.  So much enthusiasm.  Respect.
  • Friend(?) is clearly either a funhater or a terrible decision maker, or possibly both.
  • There are no commercials if you're attending a golf event live, but also nobody telling you who took the last shot or what number shot they're actually on, so it's hard to keep track of what's happening, but if you ever find yourself in such a situation you can just clap when the rest of the crowd claps and you'll be fine.

Thank you Emily, Mike and Kiki for accompanying me.  I had such a blast and feel really fortunate to have gotten to go, and to have been able to share such an awesome experience with some of my favorite people.  Is it too early to start planning our outfits for next summer's US Open at Erin Hills???



*At my Sports Jeopardy audition, the last question I got during the mock game was something like "This event pits American and European golfers against each other every two years."  I had already messed up a question about the Davis Cup (saying it was golf instead of tennis) so I was determined to make up for it on this one.  Except that I buzzed in before I had fully thought things through.  The answer came out something like "What is...the...Ryyyyyyder Cup???"

 **And, as an aside, both pictures were from the back so for quite some time I was not 100% certain who I was tweeting with.

 ***See what I did there?  Golf, major...get it?!?!

 ****I am not kidding.  I think we saw three black people all day- Tiger Woods, Darius Rucker aka Hootie of Blowfish fame, and Michael Jordan.  And I can't even really count Michael Jordan myself because only Mike saw him.

 *****You know what zoom doesn't leave much to be desired?  My camera.  You know what wasn't allowed into the Ryder Cup on Friday, Saturday or Sunday?  My camera.  You know what had to be run back to the car when we got to security?  My camera.

 ******Also an extremely good omen for an eventual American victory, right?!
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Wednesday, May 25, 2016

The home stretch

Whenever I took a plane flight as a child, I would bide my time looking intently out the window in search of any Care Bears that might be frolicking around in the clouds.

Our flight between Miami and Houston seemed like the kind of flight where I might have found one.


If I got to pick which Care Bear I'd encounter, I probably would have gone with Bedtime Bear, to help me get some sleep during the 30+ hours of travel time between Cusco and Minneapolis.

We had to bid farewell to Saul the tour guide at the Cusco airport. I cannot underestimate how great he was. Not only did he put up with me butchering the Spanish language* on a regular basis, he was friendly, informative and patient at all times. And there were definitely a few weirdos in our tour group that would have tested my patience.

Here is Saul with three of those weirdos-


We flew from Cusco to Lima, and then had a layover for a few hours before our 1:00 am flight from Lima to Miami. We landed in Miami shortly before 8:00 am, which left us roughly 10 hours to kill until our Miami to Houston and Houston to Minneapolis flights.

We decided to spend the time hitting a few more of the South Florida sites. First we stopped at Biscayne National Park, America's largest maritime national park (we watched a 20 minute movie that relayed this fact at least three times). Afterwards we drove to Key Largo for a relaxing, idyllic lunch on the patio at a place called Sundowners. I'd share a picture but at this point none of us were in any state to be photographed.

Enjoy these pristine white flowers from outside the Key Lime Cafe instead.


Thankfully the rest of our day was pretty uneventful, and we landed back in Minneapolis safe and sound around midnight.

 And with that, another adventure comes to a close. Peru was amazing.

 Until my next international incident, thank you to the approximately three people who have read any of this, and happy travels.

 *(Warning, NSFW language coming up.) I had a blast speaking Spanish all week and for the most part I was able to communicate very effectively, but it would be delusional to think I didn't make some mistakes. However, I don't think I said anything quite as hilarious as the flight attendant on our Cusco to Lima flight. As we were landing, she made the standard announcement in Spanish, then repeated it in English. Unfortunately for her, that meant the 40 Americans in our group all heard her say, "Be careful opening the overhead bins, as items may have shitted during flight."
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Tuesday, May 24, 2016

The den of thieves

About two weeks before we left for Peru, I got this text from Mom:

Reading that book is scary. Cuzco sounds like a den of thieves & robbers. 

I had leant her a book I'd just finished reading called Turn Right at Machu Picchu, by Mark Adams. The author is a magazine editor who, despite his career in the travel/adventure magazine field, hasn't camped out since spending one night in a backyard tent as a child. He gets the idea that he should re-trace the steps of Hiram Bingham, the explorer who announced the discovery* of Machu Picchu 100 years earlier. So Adams hires a guide and sets off to trek the various Inca trails that Bingham had trekked. 

The book goes back and forth between descriptions of Bingham's expedition, and Adams's own experiences shlepping about the Andes. I found it amusing, descriptive and highly informative (though I felt in the second half he got away from story-telling and it read a little more like a logbook**).

Between reading some of Adams's experiences in Cusco before he embarked on the trip (including having to be smuggled out of the city because of some sort of strike or government protest or something), and reading the safety advice on our tour operator's web site, Mom was convinced that we'd fall victims to pick-pocketers within minutes of stepping off the plane, and our lives would be in tremendous peril. 

Thankfully, she could not have been more wrong. 

Cusco and the surrounding areas were lovely. Yes, lovely in a developing country kind of way, so poverty was apparent, dogs roamed around the city***, and many of the buildings were unfinished and/or in a state of disrepair, but lovely nonetheless. And all of the people we met were wonderful. Not one introduced their occupation as thief OR robber. 

We started our last day in Peru by driving out of the city to see a kindergarten. Our tour company contributes a portion of their profits to the schools in this rural community, so we'd been notified ahead of time that we'd be visiting the school, and were invited to bring school supplies to donate. 

The kids, ranging in age from three to five, were completely adorable. They each said hello, and told us their name and how old they were. We had an opportunity to ask their teacher questions about how the Peruvian school system works, talk about what the kids were learning, and then enjoy a little recess time with the kids on the playground. Head of the class went to a little boy named Nilson, who walked around and shared his snack- kernels of maíz gigante!!!- with us and his classmates.



After the school we visited a locally-owned alpaca textiles factory. (Mike and Kiki are definitely going to find the souvenirs we picked out for them, let's say, unique****.) 

We continued on to visit four additional archeological sites. The last was Saqsaywaman, which Saul helpfully told us is pronounced similarly to, but not exactly the same as, "sexy woman". The site overlooks the city of Cusco and features very impressive, intact examples of Incan architecture*****. Saqsaywaman is right next to the Christo Blanco(White Christ) statue, a gift to the city from the Palestinian Christian community in the 1940s and a felicitous but unintentional complement to the Black Jesus idol we'd seen the day before in the cathedral. 



We had time for lunch and a little last-minute shopping back in Cusco before departing for the airport. It rained, but you can't complain about the rain when it results in a view like this- 



Not a bad way to say goodbye to such an incredible place. 

*Scientific discovery. Though Hiram Bingham is largely credited with "discovering" Machu Picchu, there were actually two Peruvian families living at the site when he found it in 1911. And you can't really discover something if someone else knows already knows it's there, now can you. 


**This impressive literary critique brought to you by my perfect attendance (2/2 meetings) at book club. 

***The dogs seemed somewhat cared for and mostly kept to themselves so although they made me very nervous, I survived. I did at one point see what can only be described as a canine gang, with upwards of 20 dogs congregated on the side of the road, but luckily we were on the tour bus so they couldn't carry out any sort of group attack on me. 

****And I use the word "unique" in the most Midwestern, passive-aggressive way possible. 

*****I did not expect to learn so much about walls on this trip.
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Sunday, May 22, 2016

Marinated in happiness

Another busy day in Peru has come to a close. Let's see what we were up to...

We walked back to the Plaza de Armas in the late morning, and once again, the citizens of Cusco (Cusqueñans, which is a super fun demonym) had prepared some entertainment for us. Because this can't possibly be what they do every Sunday, right?

We arrived at the plaza just as a parade was kicking off. There was a military band, and a lot of groups of people walking in formation. 



No floats or people throwing candy though, so clearly there's room for improvement. 

After the parade we had lunch in a little restaurant on the plaza. It was time for me to achieve my Peruvian food goals!

Goal #1: Drink a Pisco Sour. Check. 
Goal #2: Eat obscure South American mammal meat. Check. (Opted for the Alpaca skewers and they were actually pretty good! Tasted a little like pork.)
Goal #3: More maíz gigante. Check, plus bonus points because the giant corn kernels were covered in a cheese sauce!!



Emily had an alpaca burger, but found she preferred her bite off my plate. "It tastes like it's marinated in happiness."

We had a tour in the afternoon of the cathedral and the Koricancha, or Temple of the Sun. The cathedral is notable for it's painting of the last supper, in which the disciples are dining on Guinea pig and Judas is depicted as Francisco Pizarro. It started raining on our way to see the Temple of the Sun, which I think is what they call irony. 



Sadly tomorrow is already our last day here. It's been a great trip so far, so hopefully tomorrow is more of the same!
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...and fireworks (!)

After Machu Picchu we had lunch in Aguas Calientes, and then traveled back to Cusco. We arrived around 6:30, which might as well have been 10:30 for as dark as it was and as exhausted as we all were.

For dinner we went to an adorable little pizza place where I had a delicious pizza with jamón y papas (ham and potatoes). For whatever reason, Peru is swarming with pizzerias. This is good as recognizable food makes Mom happy.


To close out the day, Emily and I went exploring, and walked the three blocks from our hotel to the Plaza de Armas.  It was Saturday night, so we reasoned there would likely be something going on, and we were so. completely. right. 



There was more, including weird performers in masks and drinks at the highest-elevation Irish pub in the world, but it's time to go now so we'll have to save those stories for another time.
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Blue skies...

Well, yesterday was pretty incredible. 

I woke up this morning feeling a little sore, but the good kind of sore where you know that you earned it the day before. 

We left the cutest, most picturesque hotel in South America just before 6:00 am. We had a short bus ride to Ollantaytambo, where we boarded the Inca Rail train for a 90 minute trip to Aguas Calientes.



The scenery was okay, I guess*.

Aguas Calientes is the small town at the base of Machu Picchu. From there, we had to switch to another bus to drive up the mountain.  At the top, you get in line to show your passport and enter the archeological park. Approximately 2,500 people visit Machu Picchu every day, and approximately 2,400 of them were in the entry line with us. (I think the other hundred were in the bathroom line.)

But the travel and the hordes of people were all forgotten as soon as we saw this view: 



Here's another one, of Emily**, Mom and me. Photography credit: Saul the Tour Guide. 



As you can see, we won the weather lottery and were blessed with an absolutely beautiful morning. The temperature must have been around 65/70 degrees. We had several hours to explore, and we could stick with Saul or head off on our own. I left the group briefly to hike up to the highest overlook (when did I start to like hiking? this is a mystery but a good development as it was really nice to get a little good exercise), where I saw this guy hanging out:



Overall it was completely fantastic and if you want to see the rest of the (too many and that all kinda look the same) pictures I took, you know where to find me. 

*Sarcasm font.
**Emily is still not quite her usual self, but she was a trooper, and sucked it up to participate in all the day's activities. Like a boss.
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Friday, May 20, 2016

Día uno en Peru

So great news, wifi is the same in Spanish as in English.

I'm posting this from the lobby of the cutest, most picturesque hotel in South America.


Right?!?!

It's been a busy day and it feels really late, both due to the busy-ness and the fact that it's fall here so the sun set at like 6:00pm. It's only 9 something, but it's definitely just about bedtime.

We landed in Cusco just before noon, to bright blue skies and a gorgeous afternoon. We met all of the other people on our tour, as well as our tour guide, Saul.

Saul is fantastic. He politely humored me all day while I attempted to converse with him in Spanish. (Okay, but actually the Spanish is going really well! Either my two whole hours of studying last weekend paid off, or I hadn't regressed quite as much as I thought. I even successfully bartered in the market this afternoon, both speaking & understanding during the conversation!)

Saul is also, by default, our personal photographer. He took this picture of us as we stopped to get our first glimpse of the Sacred Valley.


(Immediately after taking this picture I realized, with some embarrassment, that I was still wearing the same shirt I had on yesterday. Overnight flights are hard. Don't worry, I've changed shirts since then.)

Along the drive, Saul told us about the local crops, including maíz gigante (giant corn!) and quinoa. I didn't retain as much information about the quinoa because every time he said quinoa, all I heard in my head was the commercial where the two guys are at the tailgate, and the wife packs veggie burgers, and the one says "what's a quee-no?", and the other says"I think it's a loofah."

We went to a silver shop and saw local artisans making jewelry, then had some time to shop in a local market. There was a section of the market that prepared and served the aforementioned local delicacy, Guinea pig. 

Come on, how could anyone eat these guys?!



(I will spare you the picture of the cooked Guinea pig but it was just as gross as you are imagining and made up my mind that I'm going to skip the cuy this trip.)

The day ended with a welcome dinner at a local restaurant, for all but one member of our party. Emily is currently lying miserably in the cutest, most picturesque hotel room in South America, suffering from altitude sickness. Cusco is about 11,000 feet above sea level, and though Urubamba (our stopover this evening) isn't quite that high, the combination of the thin air and driving around on winding roads in a bus all afternoon has done her in. We go to Machu Picchu tomorrow so we are all hoping she'll bounce back after a good night's sleep. 

Speaking of- the alarm is set for 4:30am, so I better get going if I want a good night's sleep too. 

¡Buenas noches!
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