A word from "The Rocket" commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Hiking Mexico's Highest Peaks Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

My grandfather, Manuel Prado Rodriguez, routinely led expeditions hiking Mexico's highest peaks: Pico de Orizaba, Mt. Iztaccihuatl and Mt. Popocatepetl!   All these peaks are in excess of 17,000 feet with Orizaba the tallest at 18,490 feet.  He climbed Pico de Orizaba near Vera Cruz, Mexico three times; and Mt. Iztaccihuatl and Mt. Popocatepetl, 65 and 85 times, respectively.  He once slept inside the Volcanic Mount Popocatepetl in sub-zero temperatures!   

Pico de Orizaba: "A regionally dominant peak, and in fact the highest peak between Columbia and the Yukon, the Pico de Orizaba is ranked 7th in the world in topographic prominence. It is the second most prominent volcanic peak in the world after Africa's Mount Kilimanjaro. Although it is about 110 km (75 miles) inland, to the west of the port of Veracruz, its peak is visible to ships approaching the port in the Gulf of Mexico, and at dawn rays of sunlight strike the Pico while Veracruz still lies in shadow. The Pico is ranked 16th in the world for topographic isolation.  The peak is one of three volcanoes that contain permanent snow and glaciers in Mexico. The others are Popocatepetl and Iztaccihuatl."  Learn more about mountaineering in Mexico.

So, to me, it's was fascinating to learn of my Grandfather's alpinist adventures through the memorabilia he saved over the years.  Unfortunately, I was never able to ask him personally about his exploits (he is deceased) so I often wonder about his motivation and his physical attributes. How could he pull off that many climbs unless it was over a twenty year period or longer and extremely consistent?

I can only imagine what it would be like to strike the same footsteps as my Grandfather.  Gazing before me the prodigious Pico de Orizaba, imagining for a moment what route and how he climbed and with whom and why he did it?  Or even the chance to observe "La Mujer Dormida," the sleeping lady (Mt. Iztaccihuatl) so named for it's likeness to a sleeping woman. Trekking through the unknown, and the challenge of finding myself on a trail somewhere on that peak knowing my predecessor had been here before.  Wondering where he might have set camp; his conversations, and his trail companions.  

And finally arriving at Mt. Popocatepetl (Mt. Popo), perhaps his most familiar trek and the one nearest his home in Mexico City. And, the one I would most likely visit first. 'Popocatepetl also known as "Popochowa" by the local population is an active volcano and, at 5,426 m (17,802 ft), the second highest peak in Mexico.  Popocatepetl is linked to the Iztaccihatl volcano to the north by the high saddle known as the Paso de Cortes, and lies in the eastern half of the Trans-Mexican volcanic belt.

Popocatepetl is 70 km (43 mi) southeast of Mexico City from where it can be seen regularly, depending on atmospheric conditions. The residents of Puebla, a mere 40 km (25 mi) east of the volcano, enjoy the views of the snowy and glacier-clad mountain almost all year long."

Perhaps, someday I will have the opportunity to gaze the same sight of these peaks that my grandfather once did.  It's another one for the bucket list!

Rick Rodriguez is a Real Estate Broker & Property Manager with 27+ years of experience in the real estate business. Rick, a Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College, services the San Francisco East Bay Area including the communities in the 680/580 freeway corridors, and Southern Alameda & Southern Contra Costa County. Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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Tiger Woods wins another tournament Commentary by Rick Rodriguez August 5, 2007

Commentary By Rick Rodriguez

In light of the recent events concerning Eldrick "Tiger" Woods, mainly he has decided to move away from the public eye and its scrutiny by not playing professional golf; I revisited the original post of "A word from the Rocket," about Tiger Woods.  In the original post below, you'll note my admiration of Woods, my reasons are pretty clear; moreover, I make a case against Barry Bonds, and his alleged transgressions.

I guess I shouldn't be disappointed in Woods, nor should I make a judgment of any of the the protagonists of my posts; however,  I offer the following reasons:  Mainly, "I am a golfer" and with that statement comes a responsibility to play the game with honor, integrity, and those values represent character.  Undoubtedly, Tiger Woods, has never been accused of "transgressions" on the golf course, but the recent revelations of character flaws attributed to Woods saddens me. It crushes my hope of a Superstar Athlete also being a man of character; a Father with integrity; a true humanitarian; a husband of commitment, and an honorable golfer.  Make no mistake Tiger Woods has reversed the heights that he had attained in each of these categories. 

The photographs featured in this post were taken by me at the JBWere Masters in Melbourne, Australia in November 2009.  Incidentally, this was Tiger's last competitive tournament and two weeks before Tiger's world began to unravel.  I was extremely privileged to be at the tournament and proud that Tiger represented America with class, style, integrity, excitement, and a great win!  Yes, I was there and now I move away from that position, from Tiger, as a fan, and admirer, and this as a GOLFER saddens me.

ANOTHER WIN FOR TIGER AUGUST 5, 2007

BY Rick Rodriguez

So, what's the big deal: Tiger wins another tournament.  Many people out there aren't so happy when Tiger wins, but I am.  Perhaps, it's because the rich just get richer, or he wins all the time argument, but I love to see any athlete dominate his craft, and Tiger does.  As a golf enthusiast, player, competitor, and a sport fan in general; I'm thrilled when Tiger wins!  There is a reason for this and it is because Tiger brings respectability to the sport world.  Not only does he win, but he's a class act and demonstrates that to fans and competitors alike. 

Contrast that with the other big sport story, Barry Bonds.  How it sickens me to see a player tie the all-time home record under the alleged (past or present) influence of performance enhancing drugs: oh yeah Barry, flaxseed oil.  His and others continued denial of alleged drug induced performances are what has drawn many people away from the three major sports: baseball, football, and to a lesser extent basketball.  Now, a revelation that an NBA ref may have had an influence on NBA games: this makes a fan (like me) wonder whether what we are witnessing is actual or influenced by outside events.  Aren't you sick of all the cheating?

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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Experiencing "Tigermania in Australia" Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

As I sat among the gallery at Kingston Heath Golf Club in Melbourne, Australia taking photos of then world No. 1 Tiger Woods and witnessing Tigermania and his win at the JB Were Masters, little did I know that this event would be Tiger's last official win!  And now looking back, two plus years later I wonder when the next win will come. Sure, Tiger captured his own tournament, the Chevron World Challenge, against an impressive field of 20 players in late 2011 but the tournament is not a PGA sanctioned event.  Thus, Tiger still seeks his first official PGA win since Melbourne!  

Watching Tiger Woods play golf in Australia was big for Australians and me!  It was his 1st tournament in Australia and the experience was akin to Beatlemania on the golf course!  For me, the experience gave me the very proud feeling of being American and playing golf; my affiliations with Tiger! As I watched the crowds part for Tiger; throngs of security and PGA officials following closely, little did I know life would change for Tiger in just a few short weeks!

I was welcomed to Melbourne by my friend Dr. David Moffet and his trusty associate Stephen Pan; avid golfers; Australians (Sydney-siders), and gracious hosts.  I was invited by the good Doctor to join a golf tour coinciding with the aforementioned JB WERE Masters golf tournament.  As part of the tour and the golf group, I had the privilege of playing renowned golf venues: Royal Melbourne, Metropolitan, and Huntingdale golf club(s). 

Akin to playing  Pebble Beach Golf Links, Royal Melbourne (site of 2011 President's Cup) is an Australian masterpiece, a shotmaker's paradise, and a top 100 golf course in the world.   It is an extreme privilege to play there! As a golfer, I knew right away I was in a special place, partly because of the classic clubhouse adorned with memorabilia of the great champions that have come this way and won here; and also the evident pride of the hosts.  While I can't say the course gave me a lot of personal golf memories (as in a great score)  it did give up an occasional par (s) or birdie that I will remember well into the future.  Pictured above is the No.11 Par 3 hole.  

Metropolitan, ranked in the top 100 outside of the US, is one of the best courses I've ever played. It gave me two birdies including a 40 foot snake on a Par 3. Only my 2nd hole of the day but a putt because of the profound luck that I will never forget!  Framed by towering trees and plenty of Australian bush land, each step felt like paradise, even as I searched endlessly for an errant tee shot or missed iron.  Nevertheless, the course and especially the post round beverage enjoyed adjacent to the day's final hole, and made sweeter by a miraculous save to end play, are still fresh in my mind.  Sitting watching the sun rays trickle behind the trees, secured with a nice position; the golf course slowly descending into the evening after a days work; my feet resting on the plush grass seven thousand eight hundred sixty miles away from my home course, and the setting sun still warming my bones, indeed, I felt really lucky to be there!

Huntingdale as well as the Kingston Heath Golf  Club were certainly as excellent in some respects.  But, neither would supersede my impression of Royal Melbourne or Metropolitan on this trip!   For now, I'll store the memories of Tigermania in my mind and on these photographs and think about how I have been severely fortunate to have been given these gifts by the travel gods.  And maybe in the course of events, Tiger will pullout his next win!

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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Elevated Expectations on The Great Ocean Road Victoria, Australia Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

 Commentary by By Rick Rodriguez

  
Cruising along the southern coastline in Victoria, Australia on The Great Ocean Road, after a week of playing some of Australia's finest golf courses, I began to think about how similar coastlines can be throughout the world: prodigious cliffs, coarse rocks, beautiful beaches, thick brush, seaside coves, and at times tumbling rocks.  However, in visiting the Great Ocean Road, a few hour drive from Melbourne, Australia; I was promised more: a spectacular tour, quaint towns, wildlife, and a marvel of the world—The Twelve Apostles National Park—thus with elevated expectations, I grabbed the coach that would deliver me to this promised land and headed off to the southern part of Victoria! After securing a window seat in the air-conditioned coach, I nestled in and got comfortable, a young man sat next to me (Italian), and in a short while we would engage in a lengthy conversation on our respective trips; however, for now, we would sit silently next to each other not unlike standing elevator companions!    
 

The tour’s 1^ststop was an oceanside pit stop for a Kodak moment and shortly thereafter the small town of Torquoy, Victoria.  The town, a small surf village on Victoria’s southern coast, is very typical of most seaside venues littered with small shops and convenience stores.  After the brief interlude in Torquoy, we continued along the spectacular and rugged shoreline; our driver skillfully adhering to the pavement despite at times hairpin turns adjacent to prodigious cliffs.  In little time we came about the small town of Apollo Bay, and I scampered off to find some postcards to send home.  After surveying the beach, I adhered to the Driver’s warning to return on time for the scheduled departure and we left en route to the Twelve Apostles National Park.

Upon seeing the Twelve Apostles National Park, nature’s gift to the world and the Southern Coast of Australia, I was breathless and inspired!  This is nature at its finest and all one can do is stare and admire the beautifully carved Apostles.  Millions of years of the Ocean’s work stood before me and I could only envision what those of yore might have thought when they came along these testaments to time!  Moving quickly to see as much as possible, I traversed three main trails before heading to a small cove I reached by negotiating a cliff down to the beach.     It is one of those places you often see in a postcard and it was quite dramatic!  The water ebbed and flowed somewhat briskly; however, I could envision sitting here an entire day.   I scaled to each end of the cove despite my attire, jeans and a tee shirt, and in a short while I was back up in the comfort of the coach.  The tour continued on stopping at other segments of the Twelve Apostles National Park before arriving at our last stop.

At our last stop, Port Campbell,  our Driver, once again admonished us about the time schedule. The Italian guy, remember him, saved me from figuring out how to find a way back to Melbourne (3 hours), as in my carelessness, I let the coach leave without me, and really there is never a moment quite like seeing your one and only ride home careening onto the Highway.  Slightly daunted, I asked a local about the possibilities of catching another coach or a cab back to Melbourne; he replied in the negative!  I suspected as much given the remoteness of this town and the paucity of inhabitants.  Slightly perplexed, I began the scanning process of surveying my options, and none looked too good.  As I sat slightly alarmed, 15 & 20 minutes having passed since the coach had departed, I caught eye of another coach coming into town which turned out to be mine.  The Italian guy, thinking it odd I was not on the bus, had finally convinced himself that I hadn’t suddenly decided to leave the tour and informed the Driver that I was not present.  Thank God! 

Alas, after a spectacular day touring the Great Ocean Road, I nearly found myself a temporary inhabitant of a remote seaside village called Port Campbell.  Ah, there is nothing like a little temporary overnighter in sleepy village somewhere on the other side of home, but fortunately I dodged that little event.  Nonetheless, the little episode was certainly adaptable after all I was in Australia, capturing the Great Ocean Road, perhaps for the only time!

 

In three hours, we were back home, and I checked in for the last time at the Crowne Plaza Melbourne.  In the morning, I had a quick breakfast, and grabbed a cab to the Airport.  14 hours later I landed in SFO safe & sound.  The tour of THE GREAT OCEAN ROAD turned out as promised!  It promised elevated expectations and it delivered that and more!  It was another amazing trip to the land down under!

 

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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Extraordinary travel experiences in England Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez 

Some of my most extraordinary travel experiences have come from a sense of being driven toward a destination.  Figuratively speaking, I was driven to get to England in 1996, and yes that's where I ended up that summer almost as if fate interceded and got me there!  Leek Wooten, a small town outside of Warwick (central England) and in the heartland of Shakespeare Country, is where I arrived to compete in the 10th World Left-Handed Golf Championship and attend the 1996 British Open!

The World Left-handed Golf Championship is held around the world every two years.  Several countries are represented and compete in a medal play golf championship.  In England, the host course was The Warwickshire Golf Club, located in the quaint town of Leek Wooten.  This is also very near the Warwick Castle, a famous medieval castle.

It was my 1st trip to England and after arriving at Heathrow International Airport in London.  I rented a car and caught the M (Highway) for a few hour trip north to Leamington Spa and The Courtyard Marriott.  After about 20 km/miles, I realized that I was in fact heading south and had to negotiate a roundabout to get going in the right direction!  I did, and what ensued was a pleasant trip right through central England.  I vividly recall the sense of freedom I experienced out on the open road, seeing unfamiliar terrain, and being alone in a country knowing not a soul.  The spirit of adventure is amazing!  

Once I arrived in Leamington Spa, I immediately found my hotel, got situated, and then headed downstairs to the lobby. I sat down and relaxed at the bar and met a man named Walter.  After introductions, this town local was kind enough to drive me to the golf course.  Once I arrived at the Warwickshire Golf Club, I was overwhelmed by the sense of pride I felt seeing each participating country's flag fluttering in the wind.  I was so proud being there representing the United States as a participating player!

I immediately arranged a practice round and got on on the course.  I found the course to be highly playable.  However, most of that day is but a blur as I was severely jet-lagged.   So, needless to say, my golf play was uneventful save for a few memorable swings with the driver.   After befriending a man & fellow competitor, Bill Hickey, from Montana, we had dinner at The Hilton, and I, shortly thereafter, tried in vain to get some sleep but to no avail.  I was about to experience the dreaded desynchronnosis!!!! 

The next day I headed off to Blackpool on the west coast of England, and the site of 1996 British Open at Royal Lytham. My trip coincided with "The Open" and I had tickets to the final round of the championship. Tom Lehman, an American, had established the lead, but was paired with England's own Nick Faldo.  I wrote in my journal at the time "The Open was fabulous!  I spent most of the day at holes 2, 4 & 5.  I got to see most of the stars: Couples, Pavin, Nicklaus, Norman, Crenshaw, Woods, Mediate, Singh, Faldo, and eventual championship winner Tom Lehman.  I followed Faldo and Lehman most of the way home (18th hole).  Couples made a charge.  Mark Brooks chipped in on 5.  I like him.  The roar of the gallery at The Open is unbelievable especially when Faldo birdied!  I hung out after and took a close up photo of the Claret Jug and Lehman being interviewed by Jimmy Roberts of ESPN."  It is interesting to note who the stars were in 1996.  Back then Faldo, Norman, and Couples were pretty big stars--and a relative unknown--Tiger Woods was playing in his last event as a non-professional golfer.  He turned professional shortly thereafter!

The excitement of "The Open" or inspiration unfortunately didn't carry over for me in the 10th World Left-Handed Golf Championship.  I played and tried hard but didn't have the skill or experience to finish in the higher end of my golf flight. I was crushed and it hurt for a long time! Despite the experience, I learned a few valuable lessons in this tournament.  Basically it comes down to rest and preparation to excel in these tournaments.  I underestimated the jet lag and didn't catch up on my sleep until mid week. I  spent hours awake gazing at the Warwick Castle and lamenting my inability to sleep.  I also learned that if I was going to compete in golf tournaments around the world I needed to improve my golf game.

The trip reminded me to never regret traveling abroad.  Nothing compares to the freedom of being alone in the world and discovering new things.  I had discovered England and the Shakespeare Country and Royal Lytham St. Anne's and the small town of Leek Wooten in Warwickshire on this trip.  

 Not only did this trip broadened my experience of the world but it built friendships for me; it gave me a greater appreciation of where I'm from, and allowed me to continue to follow my dreams!  Always follow your dreams and live extraordinary travel experiences!

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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Christchurch, New Zealand to Queenstown, New Zealand November 2008 Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick  Rodriguez

The Pilot announced that we were not going to be able to land in Queenstown!  I breathed a sigh of relief because the plane was bouncing around in the sky for all of the 30 minutes we had been in the air! We were in the mountains and I wondered if we would land or this would be the end of the road for yours truly! Nevertheless, I felt no real fear until we landed and the prospect of another flight in the same direction sounded less appealing.  Figuring I had dodged a bullet, I decided to hire a vehicle and trek through the South Island of New Zealand by car rather than fly down with my comrades to Queenstown!

So, as my buddies qued up for another flight, I snuck over to Hertz and ascertained the damage to take a car from Christchurch and leave it in Queenstown.  A couple of gulps later I was in small compact headed South.  I made the right turn onto the Highway on the right side of the vehicle and began my 5 hour trip through the mountains of the South Island of New Zealand!  Obviously, I had no clue where I was headed but the Hertz guy had highlighted a nice map for me to follow.  

I stopped in Geraldine, a small town, for some lunch and a bit of sightseeing.  After meeting a nice gal at the sandwich shop,  I wandered around town for a moment but I was eager to get going because I didn't want to get stuck in the mountains at night.  So, I was off headed towards Lake Tekapo & Pukaki, a rather significant site on the map. Arriving, I was a bit overcome by the ice blue features of this slightly prodigious lake(s).  At the moment, I was either overcome by its magnificence, or was suffocating from the crisp mountain air or cool temperature! Nonetheless, I grabbed my video camera and took in the sights, and I was nearing Mt. Cook, and for a minute, I thought I've got to get there!  But, again, I wanted to get out of those mountains and get down to Queenstown and I was quite a bit out (3 hours) and mountain roads to travel.

So, after hanging around Lake Tekapo for a bit, I quickly got back on the road and continued my trek South.  It was more than few times that I thought to myself " what the heck am I doing here?"   And, "wondered who the heck knows I'm even here?"  As I winded through the mountains, a  greyish nebulous sky forming, I entered the Otago region and exited my vehicle for a few Polaroids.  The mountains were a hilly humpbacks with a yellowish ground cover and it seemed odd. Though slightly intimidating, the humpbacks staring down at an intruder so far from home, I got my shots and stepped back into the perceived safety of my rented Toyota.

The day was slowly turning into early evening and despite my Don Quixote type intrepidness, I was climbing and only a perception of an idea on where I was headed.  The Otago region is known, among other things, for their wine region but mostly what I saw was covered vines.  I imagine that it gets cold up there but I can tell you from experience--try New Zealand wines--they're awesome!  Many of the wines I tried were from local vintners.  Many can't be found here! 

I crept along winding through the mountain and while the road was well marked each turn was a new experience.  I stopped in a small town for petrol and discovered I was still an hour out of Queenstown.  As the downhill out of the mountains began, I noticed that a bustling river was adjacent to the road into town and in each turnout there was a cascade of water here and there.  I stopped and captured a few shots and slowly as night fell I reached Queenstown. 

I was somewhat relieved when I checked into The Millenium Hotel, my accommodations for the next week, and that my buddies I had left up in Christchurch had not arrived sooner than me despite a plane and bus ride.  After I checked in, I discovered that their plane and bus ride had not got them into Queenstown as quickly as my escapade.  So, actually, I got to see six hours of South Island New Zealand real estate from the ground rather than the air!  That turned out to be special moment and time for me in New Zealand!

The next morning I teed it up at Jack Pointe's Golf Course.  Here is a picture of the hole I started on!The mountains surrounding Queenstown are appropriately named "The Remarkables" and now I know why!  It was a glorious week and equally remarkable trip to New Zealand's South Island!

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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Tasmania, Australia October 1998 Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

In 1998, I spent three weeks on the Island of Tasmania, Australia.  This is the tear drop land mass south of the continent of Australia. It is also the home of the famed Tasmanian Devil! The purpose of my trip was to play in two golf tournaments: the Australian National Left-Handed Golf Championship and the World Left-Handed Golf Championship.  Tasmania is a twenty hour flight including stops from San Francisco!  I left out of Los Angeles (LAX) to Auckland, New Zealand to Melbourne, Australia, and then to the Launceston, Tasmania. 

I got there on October 17, and after I checked into the Hotel Grand Chancellor, I went for a practice round at the Riverside Golf Club.   Arriving at the course, I went over to the practice putting green and gazed over the horizon marveling at the course of events that had gotten me to this point in life.  Here I was, thousands of miles from home, standing on unfamiliar turf, about to play a game I love--GOLF!  I must have been jet lagged because I hacked it up that day, but I reasoned at least I was able to see one of the courses I'd eventually play in the tournament, and what the heck I was on vacation having fun!   After the round, I went for a short run to get a feel for the town.  Launceston is a quaint town with many small stores, and a variety of restaurants; and its got some key tourist spots including Queen Victoria Hall.  My run interweaved between small streets and Cataract Gorge (a key spot), and after a short run, I went back to the hotel and got settled in for dinner.

The next morning the Australian National  Left-Handed Golf Tournament got under way.  The 1st round was contested at the Launceston Golf Club.  As a crowd of golfers gathered to gaze at the starting golfers, I was busily trying to cope with my 1st tee jitters, very soon the gazes would turn toward me, and I wanted to perform well.  I must have shaken them off.  I got off to a good start (42) but struggled on the back and ended with a 95.  I was pretty dejected because I let a good opportunity get away  on what I felt was a fair course.  I had trouble with tight lies and the extremely fast greens.  In the 2nd round at Mowbray Golf Club, I started off well striping my drive right down the middle.  My confidence led to a quick Par, and after 9 holes I shot (45). The front was high-lighted by a great up and down from a green side bunker on hole 9.  Then, just like that I had two consecutive 8's!  Wow, I was crushed and I had to take myself aside for a fast pep talk.  After the positive self-talk, I shot even par that included a birdie on 17 (30 ft. Breaker) on the last six holes.  I shot 87 for the round.

After two rounds, I was in 3rd place in my flight, and I was looking forward to playing the Riverside Golf Club; the site of my 1st round on the Island.   I played well (85), and found myself leading my flight after the 3rd round.  In the round, I was paired with a couple of Australians, David Direen and Keith Martin, and we had a fantastic time.  In fact, David and I hit it off pretty well, and after the round he asked me to come down to Hobart (his home) for the weekend.  Of course, I accepted and after the tournament on Friday we made our way down to Hobart.  After the round, I discovered that I was leading by 3 strokes; apparently no one in my flight had bettered my score.

In the last round, we played the Casino Country Club course, and while I was nervous, I shot another 85 and won my flight by two shots.  I was leading by several shots but on the 18th hole I triple-bogeyed the hole, and not knowing the final outcome actually thought I lost the tournament on 18.  I was quite disappointed.  I didn't discover until the tournament banquet that night that I had held on.  I was awarded a beautiful bronze Tasmanian tiger for the win.  Today, it sits on my desk; a constant reminder of my trip to Tasmania

I never really thought I'd end up winning a golf flight in Tasmania.  But, I guess things just sometimes work out that way.  I also ended up with a great friendship with David Direen that has been renewed in Ireland, New Zealand, and Canada in the ensuing years. 

My trip to Tasmania in 1998 was an amazing lifetime experience.  Intertwined with many splendid moments engaging with friends and relationships I have formed throughout the world, Tasmania is a place that offers lots of outdoor adventure activities; great food, and a warm culture.  It is a place that created amazing moments for me including the reward of playing golf in this far off land.  It was a devil of a time!

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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Spain to Tangier, Morocco via Strait of Gibraltar March 1994 Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary By Rick Rodriguez

I had no idea what to expect crossing the Strait of Gibraltar from Spain intoTangier,Morocco.  I just knew that Morocco is in North Africa, and I would, if only for a moment, touch the continent of Africa.  Even the name, Africa, begs for an explanation, almost an intrigue into the unknown and unfamiliar, and while I was leaving behind the consistency of Spain; a familiar cuisine and dialect, I knew little of my destination!   

We departed from the Rock of Gibraltar region, pictured above, after spending a week in the area, and touring  Portugal including Lisbon. 

The itinerary was a day trip through Tangier, a port town, located on the north west coast of the country.  We traveled by ferry from the Strait of Gibraltar in the Iberian Peninsula of Spain across to Tangier.   The ferry was a pleasant, and as I remember, only a few hour one way trip from Gibraltar.  It was full of tourists and locals; a lively ambiance filled the vessel, perhaps a harbinger of things to come. 

We had pre-arranged the trip with a tour company. Once past the customary procedures entering a foreign country; we departed by coach to tour Tangier.

Morocco (the full Arabic name is Al Mamlakah al Maghribiyah which translates into "The Western Kingdom" ) is located on the North West coast of Africa and has ports in the North Atlantic Ocean as well as the Mediterranean Sea. It is the third most populous Arab country. Morocco shares the largest part of its border with Algeria to the East and Western Sahara to the South. Morocco is divided into sixteen regions.  Each region is further divided into provinces and prefectures. The capital of Morocco is Rabat and its largest city is Casablanca.

Our trek through Tangier was short; but as with most city tours, it was designed around seeing as many of the important sites as possible in the allotted time frame.  Thus, we were treated to local cuisine; shopping districts (Bazaars); the Casbah; treks through a maze of pathways in town; the coastline, and some wildlife!  It was also a place where I immediately felt isolated from the western world.  Not that I was homesick for the good ole' US of A, I wasn't, it was just the distinct cultural differences required a bit of getting used to.  From the arabic signage to the bustling streets to the aggressive merchants peddling their wares at every opportunity, the latter a practical infringement on personal space.  At the time, and to be fair, it might be quite different now, it bordered on a personal battle just to get through some merchants and to the next phase of the tour.  Nonetheless, as I walked through this very old place, a maze of stone pathways, walls rising above me at each shoulder blending neighboring districts, I eagerly moved along fascinated with my journey.

I saw lives of people passing before me.  Young and old!  Smiling children staring perhaps wondering about me and what I was doing there(?)  I saw kids playing: kicking soccer balls.  Just like we do back home.  I saw the diurnal events of the locals.  The interactions and the negotiations of the passing day.  For me, this was enough to know and see, that what I was seeking was here; a different kind of place, one I was not familiar with but somehow knew.  A way different from my own.  But a way I needed to see and compare to my own.

The Casbah, akin to a fortress, stands out in my memory, and I don't really know whether there is a Casbah in every town in the country, but it is an intriguing architecture and would be a very interesting inspection.  "The Casbah (Arabic: qasba, meaning citadel)specifically the citadel of Algiers in Algeria and the traditional quarter clustered around it. More generally, a casbah is the walled citadel of many North African cities and towns. The name made its way into English from French in the late 19th century and continues to be spelled as acquired from that language."

I was captured by the clustering of the environment and now as I write these words even more so.  We stood marveling from a distance.  And as I stared off wondering what life might be like there; we were off to yet another adventure.  But none would register a slot in my memory more than the Casbah.  I would leave Morocco with a bit of its history; the chaos of it's bazaars; an introduction to their dining customs and food; the labyrinth of its streets, and knowledge of the fierceness of its merchants.

Though I came and left quickly.  I tasted Morocco enough that if I would ever come to Spain again.  I would certainly catch the ferry back into this country.  I discovered what I was looking for in Morocco.  I saw the old clashing with the new.  I saw life somewhat differently than I know.  In some respects, it was a peek into the past that perhaps now a decade and half removed from my visit is no more! 

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

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24 hours of driving in Ireland June 2005 commentary by Rick Rodriguez

 Commentary By Rick Rodriguez

I had 24 hours to drive across Ireland and get back to Dublin for my next tee time Thursday morning! So, after the day's round at Naas Golf Club on Tuesday and one incredible moment (Naas Golf Club is located at Kerdiffstown, Naas, County Kildare just outside of Dublin), I grabbed a rental car and hopped on the highway headed toward Ireland's West Coast and the town of Nenagh. I had not planned on heading to Nenagh and didn't know what I'd find once I got there but what the heck I was in Ireland, and not for long! Opportunity was facing adventure!  So, with little delay I headed out of Dublin and toward my destination. Immediately, I noticed that Ireland'sHighways have much more room to negotiate a vehicle opposed to their country roads. Their country roads, at least the one's I traveled on are so narrow that gleaning countryside glances while driving is only recommended for the totally skilled. This is especially more difficult for right side drivers from the USA. And, while I am no rookie to driving a vehicle from the right side it clearly takes some warm up to get in a comfort zone.

I drove non-stop until I reached the town of Nenagh. Located about 155Km from Dublin in County North Tipperaryand off the N7, Nenagh caught my eye because of the medieval Nenagh Castle. I could see it along the N and it was situated near a large church that also drew my attention. So, I stopped in on a terrific summer day and walked about the place for a bit and then the clouds formed and the brief sunshine turned to a dreary nebulous experience. " Nenagh Castle was built 1216 and was the main castle of the Butler Family before they moved to Gowran, County Kilkenny in the 14th century. The family later purchased Kilkenny Castle which was to be the main seat of their power for the next 500 years. The town was one of the ancient manors of the Butlers who received the grant of a fair from Henry VIII of England. They also founded the medieval priory of St John, just outside the town at Tyone. A small settlement grew up around the castle, but it never seems to have been of any great importance other than as a local market throughout the medieval period. An important Franciscan friary was founded in the town in 1252 in the reign of Henry III of England, which became the head of the Irish custody of West Ireland and was one of the richest religious houses in Ireland. The Abbey was in use for six hundred years; Fr. Patrick Harty, who died in 1817, was its last inhabitant. Nonetheless, the brief stop was one of many I would make en route to my final destination."  Nenagh is a cool town.  I was slightly out of my element but it didn't stop me from fashioning my video camera in search of something out of the ordinary!

After leaving Nenagh, I drove to Limerick and drove aimlessly around town looking for accommodations for the evening.  I had planned on finding a hotel for the night but saw nothing that drew my interest. Limerick appeared very industrial to me and I just couldn't find what seemed like a friendly spot. Perhaps, the local time (10:00PM) had something to do with it and it was still light out. So, again, I made another decision to head to Waterford (famous for crystal) and figured that might be more representative of what I might be looking for that evening. It was, however, 2 hours and 127km drive to Waterford, so I made a mad dash onto the N24, and headed East. Driving through the night on unfamiliar roads is always an interesting experience. In route, I stopped for coffee at a gas station and I am not quite sure who was more startling me or the attendant. With a quizzical look he gave me a cup of joe and I was off as fast as I had arrived.

 










 I found accommodations for the evening at Tower Hotel once I arrived in Waterford, The hotel is situated adjacent to Reginald's Tower  (picture left). Waterford  was founded by Viking raiders who established a settlement at Waterford in 853. Waterfordand all the other longphorts were vacated in 902, the Vikings having been driven out by the native Irish. The Vikings re-established themselves in Ireland at Waterford in 914 and built what would be Ireland's first city. A list of the city's rulers from this date to the mayors of the present day can be found in Rulers of Waterford. Among the most prominent kings of Waterford was Ivar of Waterford.

 

 Finally, relaxing, and in for the night. I replayed the day's events beginning with that incredible moment at Naas Golf Club (I made a 2 on a Par 4) and the Eagle on the 9th hole to the Nenagh Castle and Waterford via Limerick, and finally the 300k's I drove that day and night. Opportunity had met adventure. And as usual adventure turned out the winner! 

  

After a night's rest, I toured Reginald's Tower, had breakfast and headed north toward Wicklow Mountain and back to Dublin.  Not before, however, I scampered off for a riverside jaunt in Wexford that had me wondering if I might encounter some medieval leprechauns deep in the lush riverside hills.  It was one of those hikes reserved for the memory book and my video camera.  It was a fast 24 hours of driving Ireland but it was a spectacular experience!

Launceston, Tasmania, Australia to Cradle Mountain October 1998 commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary By Rick Rodriguez

 
Follow the rules when your out and about in the unknown....an old adage that I've heard so many times but  don't always adhere to...such was the case one day up in Cradle Mountain on the tear drop Island of Tasmania.  I was offered an adventure in Tasmania sightseeing in the Soloman Caves and Cradle Mountain by a couple of friends from England.  It was only a one day dash from home base in Launceston and when the offer came about I couldn't refuse!

The Caves are guided and I was not squeemish about a peak into the darkness of Tasmania!  I had toured caves in California and this one could not be a whole lot different.  

The Soloman Caves were an experience but not unlike others I had seen.  But, I am sure I would receive a lot of contention from Geologists since their are numerous intricacies that make the Soloman Cave singularly spectacular!  Inside, it was, like most caves amazingly quiet and of course so dark that I couldn't see my hand in front of my face at lights out; the caves are lighted and guides shut off lights to give us the ultimate cave experience!  Learn more at http://tourtasmania.com/content.php?id=kingsolomon

We headed out west from our hotel in Launceston toward Mole Creek, a small town that would be a welcomed sight that evening on our way back. Most of the ride to Mole Creek was scenic; however from Mole Creek it is a 90 minute drive to Cradle Mountain through forest and spectacular mountain scenery, including a mountain-top lookout where you will feel, quite literally, on top of the world. 

Our trek began in Weindorfer's Forest, where we checked in at the trail head and quickly skirted through a short loop trail.  Not settling for such a meager effort, we decided to head up to Hounslow Heath, a longer climb estimated at the trail head to be three hour round trip. 

It must have been about 1pm and we planned to climb up the mountain, have a look around and make our way back down.  As with most trails, unpredictable becomes commonplace, and this trail proved to be so.  We quickly climbed the first part of the trail and thought nothing about the slushy run off coming down the mountain and over the trail.  Exposed roots littered the trail making each step slippery and challenging.  We climbed for some time with difficulty but were lost in conversation and focusing on the work up the mountain. 

Reaching the top, the expanse snow covered--unexpected--even despite the wintry conditions; it was summer time!  The trail was now barely discernible and we had climbed about 1.5 hours.  Our decision to proceed was logical given the challenge of climbing back down over the slippery terrain (none of us were equipped with gear!)  We reasoned the trip was a total of three hours and by now we were half way finished.  Well, the snow turned the hike into 5+ hours, arduous, and suspenseful to say the least!  Each step was a plant, remove foot, and plant again effort as the snow was mid-calf in height!  Additionally, our ill-equipped foot gear, now thoroughly drenched was beginning to pose a foot freezing situation.  Yikes, I was concerned as the day dwindled away!  Everything I knew about making mistakes in the wilderness we had now achieved: No food, gear, maps, or safety provisions!  Moreover, I had little knowledge of the terrain or could not make out any conspicuous land marks over the snow covered valley. Of course, not a soul knew my whereabouts accept fro my trail companions!

Once I saw a bushy looking creature (a wombat), I wondered "what's next" and then a small herd of wallabies scampered by!  I snapped a few pictures and continued on and luckily didn't encounter anything else.  As the day moved past us, I questioned the trail we selected (very common on lost expeditions); I felt the day was getting too long and evening was fast upon us; nonetheless, we moved forward and finally began our descent!  Relieved, we scampered down the mountain into the valley and finally back down to the safety of our vehicle; the trip took nearly 5.5 hours! 

Cradle Mountain

 

 

"Cradle Mountain forms the northern end of the wild Cradle Mt - Lake St Clair National Park, itself a part of the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area.  The jagged contours of Cradle Mountain epitomise the feel of a wild landscape, while ancient rain forest and alpine heath lands, button grass and stands of colourful deciduous beech provide a range of environments to explore. Icy streams cascading out of rugged mountains, stands of ancient pines mirrored in the still waters of glacial lakes and a wealth of wildlife ensure there is always something to captivate you. The area is one of the most popular natural areas in Tasmania. A visit will reveal why.

Cradle is the starting point for the world-famous Overland Track, a magnificent 6 day walk that will take you through the heart of some of the finest mountain terrain.

The Cradle Mountain - Lake St Clair National Park shares a "Twin Parks" agreement with the World Heritage listed Jiuzhaigou Nature Reserve in the People's Republic of China"

The drive back to Mole Creek Inn for dinner was quiet and comforting.  We dodged a bullet and learned a lesson!  Follow the rules, check in at the trailhead and be prepared for everything!!