A word from "The Rocket" Rick Rodriguez

Montreal, Canada September 1995

By Rick Rodriguez

It was a bit of a culture shock encountering Montreal for the 1st time.  I was there to run the Montreal Marathon not to brush up on my French.  But, it would have helped me to have a cursory knowledge of the language prior to my trip.  Montreal may be close to the United States but in my experience lots of French is spoken there, and it may be the predominant language of the city!  Nonetheless, aside from a bit too many "Oui Mes-suer's" the town is a fascinating experience.

I arrived in Montreal via Detroit on a Thursday afternoon and checked in at Le Centre Sheraton on Rene Levesque, a main thoroughfare of the city.  The hotel is situated in the heart of Montreal: I would later learn that I would run past the hotel in the final miles of the marathon.  Therefore, access to the town was immediate and I spent most of the rest of the day walking around getting acquainted.  That evening, sensing I need a break before the big run on Sunday, I took it easy and shot some pool at Sherlock's, a local brew pub, and called it a night.

The next morning I enjoyed a city bus tour. Though at the time it seemed a bit odd, riding a double decker bus around an unfamiliar town; I've found that it's one of the best ways to see a city rather quickly and hit many, if not all, the main tourists sites.  The Grayline tour included stops at Notre Dame Basilica, a Roman Catholic church; Saint Joseph's Oratory, a stunning structure; the quiet renowned Botanical Gardens and Olympic Park!  In the latter, I caught the Montreal Expos taking on the Houston Astros (Expos won 7-3) later that day.  I also got to see some stunning Montreal views from the tower at Olympic park. It's the oddest and most unique looking structure I've seen dominating a skyline of a big city.   Another highlight was visiting some the sites of the 1976 Olympic games.  In particular, the pool where Mark Spitz set the then Olympic swimming records, and other interesting Olympic venues, but that one stands out the most.

I also got a chance to pick up my race number (#1706) and had a nice experience at the running Expo.  Staging a marathon is a big event and typically draws people from all over the world. So, there was a buzz in the air and I was excited to be in town.

On Saturday, I drove down to Burlington, Vermont to meet a friend that lives there.  It's about 90 minutes to Burlington from Montreal through south/eastern Canada.  I crossed over bridges (Champlain), farm lands, and a small town named Iberville.  I took Highway (89) into Burlington and once I crossed over into the US, the topography changed, and the fall colors made the ride in scenic and pleasurable!

Once I arrived at my friend's home, we chatted for a bit and then she took me around Burlington (small town) and I got to see a bit of the place.  Burlington is noteworthy for being the Original Home of Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream, and of course, we stopped in for a snack.  It's a traditional thing to do when coming to Burlington!  That afternoon I drove back to Montreal had dinner at a place called called Casa Mateo (carbo load?) in Old Montreal, and then called it a night. 

I was a bit concerned that I had pushed it a bit too much the preceding couple of days prior to a Marathon and had not had adequate rest.  I would soon discover that my preparations were just that--not adequate!  I'll discuss the run in more detail at www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/Running_with_the_Rocket.  But for now, let's say lots of my pre-race preparation was jeopardized by scheduling too many events prior to my run.  I was running 26.2 miles on Sunday, and with the time and climate change, I underestimated my preparation and learned a valuable lesson.

While it might appear that I have a very concise memory, I would rather attribute the accounting of my adventures, to my journal.  I probably have 6 or 7 journals now, and back in 1995, I never realized that I might be blogging about my trips and journeys abroad.  So, it isn't my memory that is fascinating, I just took good notes. 

My memory does not fail me of this though; Montreal is a fascinating place to visit, and it's a good place to brush up on French.  I've heard Quebec is more inculcated in the French culture, and with the Niagara Falls in the same region--I must get back there soon!

Seville, Spain May 1994

By Rick Rodriguez

On my first visit to Europe I visited the great country of Spain.  In a lot of ways, I felt certain that the place felt like home.  I saw lots of evidence of this as the Rodriguez name was splashed all over Seville on street names, cafes, and buildings.  The town is intersected by the Guadalupe River and in my time there I ran through the streets of Seville listening to Paul McCartney or some other great sound blaring in my ears. 

Journal Excerpt May 6, 1994  "I'm in Sevilla, Spain!  What a town!  Just a great place for a vacation. The town is historic and very European.  It is littered with quaint outdoor cafes, churches, museums, bull rings, and many great things to do.  I just walked across the Guadalupe River.  I'm sitting at the edge of the river on a stone walkway near the bridge that spans the river.  I'm looking down at a corner cafe as people pass the evening away.  I just completed a great run twice around a majestic park at river's edge.  The river is calm.  It is about 70 degrees.  This is truly Spain!"

As I mentioned in my journal excerpt, I was experiencing a great sense of calm knowing I was at the right place at the right time in my life in Spain.  It was also a goal.  I was on a mission to see the world.  Journal Excerpt  May 6, 1994 "Look at this world--Rick--you made your goal.  You may never see Seville again.  But you saw it once!"  

As I continued admiring this lovely city, I sat and drew a picture of the river and trees and church buildings in the background.  Below me, a riverside restaurant  with incredible views was the Maria Angeles Restaurant, a little background on the restaurant "It is situated on the bridge that joins Triana with Seville, it has tables from where the views are fantastic, and on its menu they offer specialties from Andalusia and from the Basque Country. Furthermore, to whet your appetite, they have a wide variety of tapas. Amongst its specialties are barbecued meat, cod, ox T-bone and the traditional fish tapas. To finish off with a sweet flavor in your mouth, try one of the home-made desserts."  While I didn't try the restaurant, next time I'm in Seville, I will have dinner there.  I had dinner earlier in the evening at a street side restaurant.  I had Salmon Mediterranean: a ubiquitous dish located at many Sevillian restaurants.

Later that night, I returned to my home for the night-- the Hotel Becquer.  Journal excerpt "I am down in the lobby area listening to the Discman.  This is a nice place.  Do I know where tomorrow leads?  To the world of the unknown.  That's better! Security is a myth.  Remember that when you seek it. Live your dreams!  Will you get another shot?  Don't forget these precious moments in your life."

Most of my thoughts at the time were focused around exploring the unknown; taking roads less traveled; and in many ways an inner discovery was taking place in me.  I guess that's why I was destined to come to Spain on my 1st adventure to Europe.  I felt at home in Spain!  Seville was a marvelous embarkation point from where I would eventually see Madrid, Lisbon, London, Dublin, Tangiers (Africa), and many smaller European cities.  Now, 15 years later, all that's left to do is to see Seville, again!

Capturing the Moments of our Lives

By Rick Rodriguez

I write to capture the thoughts fleeting from my memory!  Heck, at times, yesterday's events seem to transpire as quickly as a camera flash.  Our lives are speeding by and important times are dashing by uncaptured.  As a result, I am trying to recapture and capture some of my past and present so it doesn't slip away to the archive of my mind never to resurface.  Moreover, I have spent countless hours studying history: mine, your's, and the world's.  I look for interesting stories and some times I head off in obscure directions.  I often wonder about my ancestors, grandparents, and parents.  What they know and remember?  What they did while they were here on Earth?  For instance, my Dad has often mentioned his Father, my Grandfather, who 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!  All these peaks are in excess of 17,000 feet with Orizaba the tallest at 18,490: 

Here's a little history of the Mountain direct from Wikipedia:

"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."

So, to me, it's fascinating to discover my Grandfather's alpinist adventures.  I wonder about his motivation and his physical attributes; pulling these stunts off nearly every couple of weeks.  I can only imagine what kind of shape he must have been in to endure what must have been extreme hardships.  Yet, it must have been his passion!

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 would send a sense of awe and appreciation for his accomplishments that undoubtedly I would never forget. 

 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 in the world.  Wondering where my Grandfather might have set camp; his conversations, and his trail companions.  See, to me, these are stories worthy of capture and are full of intrigue!  I yearn to learn more and thankfully he saved his story for me (us) through photographs and memorabilia.  This treasure trove remains secure with the present owner, my Dad, but I've already put in my request.  I've already made sure that I capture this story so it doesn't slip deeply into the archive of my mind never to resurface again!

Leek Wooten, England July 1996

By Rick Rodriguez

Some of my most fantastic 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 Wotten, a small town outside of Warwick (central England) and in the heartland of Shakesphere Country, is where I arrived to compete in the 10th Annual World Left-Handed Golf Championship.

The 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 tourist spot in central England!

It was my 1st trip to England and after arriving at Heathrow International Airport in London.  I rented a car and caught the M for a few hour trip North to Lemington Spa and The Courtyard Marriott.  After about 20 miles, I realized that I was in fact heading South and had to negotiate a roundabout to get on the right track!  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.  I've had this experience quite often, and only twice, have I experienced anything other than a very calm sense of being!  The other two times I was homesick in Mexico and Australia.

Once I arrived in Leek Wooten, 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.  This Englander was kind enough to drive me to the golf course.  Once I got to the Warwickshire golf course, I was overwhelmed by the sense of pride I experienced 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 played a practice round on the Warwickshire and found the course a generous lay out.  Most of that day is but a blur; 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, 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. 

The next day I headed off to Blackpool on the west coast of England, and the site of 1996 British Open. The bus trip from Warwick took about 2.5 hours but again I was treated to some fantastic countryside.  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.  Journal Excerpt Rick Rodriguez "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!

After two tournament rounds of the world tournament, I met a local named Duncan Glover; we were paired together in the 2nd round.  Since we had an off day on Wednesday, Duncan invited me to stay with him at his home in Birmingham.  Naturally, I accepted and after the round we headed down to his home.  Birmingham is a big city and somewhat industrial.  I met his wife Joan and son Ian, and then we headed out to dinner where I had my 1st Indian food experience.  I had curry and it was fabulous!  Our conversation centered on the unlikeliness that I ended up with them in their hometown, knowing not a soul but with the capacity to take a chance and make friends (years later Ian would stay with me in Danville), and now the memory is part of my history!  On Wednesday, Joan made us a nice English breakfast and we ate in their narrow backyard.  We also made it to Gordon's golf club, Moseley, and while there I got a chance to play Snooker, a billiard type game played on a larger table with smaller holes.  I don't remember the final outcome but I do know we knocked down several pints of England's finest before heading home!

The last two rounds were uneventful.  The golf club gave us an excellent send off and we enjoyed a taste of English dance along with fine cuisine.  Afterwards, I hopped in my rental car and headed back to London.  While I didn't get a chance to see much of London, I did take a city tour which covered the most famous London landmarks including Big Ben.  I almost missed my flight back to the States because I couldn't find my rental return spot.  I was so close to missing my flight that I had to leave my rental car in the short term parking area.  What an experience!  Needless to say, I was the last one to board the flight home and the airline (British Airways) had to hold the flight because my bags had already been checked earlier in the day.  Yikes!

I learned a few valuable lessons in this tournament and the trip.  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 catch some ZZZZZZ's.  I also learned that I never would regret traveling abroad.  Despite some harrowing experiences!  Nothing compares to the freedom of being alone in the world and discovering new things.  Not only has this broadened my experience of life, but it has built friendships for me; given me a greater appreciation of where I'm from, and has allowed me to continue to follow my dreams!

Acapulco, Guerrero Mexico August 1997

My trip to Acapulco, was quite frankly one of the most enjoyable trips of my life!  We stayed at Las Brisas.  A beautiful seaside resort with panoramic views of Acapulco Bay.  The steepness of its location requires motorized transport to and from the room to the lobby.  And, this unique feature along with first class service; a private pool; and ample sized rooms make staying here a pleasure!  Clearly what I remember the most is the incredible view from our room!

I was first introduced to Acapulco by my parents as a child.  Back then in early 1970's, we would make the trek to Mexico City from our home in Hayward, California via the Interstate 5.  We'd drive through  California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas.  Once we got to El Paso, Texas we'd head south through Mexico.  I guess that's how I came to know towns like Flagstaff, Arizona and Albuquerque, New Mexico.  And places like Zacatecas, Aguascalientes, and Guadalajara in Mexico.  Once we arrived to Mexico City, the place to vacation for the locals was Acapulco on the west coast of Mexico.  And this is where my parents took us!

Stuffed in a car for two-thousand miles seems impossibly cumbersome.  But, I bet my folks, especially my Dad, instilled that sense of adventure in me on these trips that has stayed with me throughout my lifetime.  In fact, some of my earliest memories are of incredible lightening shows in New Mexico.  They scared the wits out of me but then again I was a kid!  But, Dad knew how to handle any on road situations including the wind gusts that often turned up in the open plains we encountered!  

Journal Excerpt Rick Rodriguez August 31, 1997 "Our activities included deep sea fishing; a ride on the Shotover Jet, and 18 holes at Tres Vidas golf course."  The day we went deep sea fishing was incredibly calm.  "Jim & Donna went on the fishing trip.  Our Captain was named Gregorio Roque.  He's a young guy.  He gave us some good insights.  The ocean is a wonderful place in calm conditions.  We enjoyed a beautiful day at sea.  We went out about twelve miles!"   Yes, and it took awhile adjusting to the idea that we were in a small boat and hours away from the shoreline; and in a relatively small boat!  We did end up catching a lone sail fish, and of the boats that went out that day our boat was the only one with a raised flag; signifying a catch for the day!  We gave the locals the fish and they readily lined up for their share!

Another highlight was a ride on the Shotover Jet.  This little adventure is a high risk boat ride that is incredibly exhilarating.  Journal excerpt "We also took a ride on the Shotover Jet. This is a high speed boat that rides over a couple of feet of water.  The jet propels through the water very fast!  Our driver's name was Polo: a highly skilled driver.  He took us onto Rio Papagallo at incredible speeds and dangerously close to the protruding rocks at rivers edge.  He showed us where parts of the movie Rambo II was filmed.  It was a great experience." I'd rank this experience pretty high on the adventure spectrum.  The only downside is the possibility of error by the boat driver.  We had to sign a waiver stating we complied with the risks associated including kissing your butt bye bye in a crash!  Yikes!!

My last treat was getting the opportunity to play the world class golf course Tres Vidas Golf course.  Journal Excerpt "Tres Vidas golf course is about the best course in Acapulco (1997).  I was fortunate to have played it.  My caddy was named Rodolfo.  A young man of twenty-three years.  We had an interesting day.  The highlight was a 4 iron I hit at a Par 3 into the ocean side Number 3 hole.  I watched the flight of the ball as it soared to the green!"  Playing golf with a caddy is always a special treat, and on this day I had a good guy.  I also played on a remarkable day with very few players on the course.  Perhaps, the $200 USD keeps players away but I'd certainly recommend playing here.  It's the 1st course I've been to that has an Olympic size swimming pool at the clubhouse.  A nice retreat after a game of golf!

  

Spain and Portugal 1994 "Praia do Carvoeiro, Portugal"

By Rick Rodriguez

In 1994, I embarked on my 1st trip to Europe that included visits in Spain, Portugal, and a day trip to Morocco!  That was 15 years ago and at 30 years of age I was in the early stages of seeing the World!  I was on a mission.  I knew very little of what was ahead me in this aspect of my life, and this trip served as an appetizer for the main course to come.  Now, when I look back at this trip, I remember it fondly, but also feel that I connected with my roots.  Somewhere in my ancestry is a Rodriguez that came from Spain!  I even felt closely connected to the country.  I felt so at home.  Surely, I don't know this with certainty, but there were enough Avenida Rodriguez streets in Spain to perhaps raise this conclusion.

I traveled with Mike and Laurel Pinna, and Mike's Dad--Tony Pinna.  Mike was a boyhood friend of mine, and his wife Laurel arranged most of the trip.  Tony, an experienced traveler, made us all feel comfortable with his leadership and guidance.  I was on an adventure of a lifetime.  Here's a journal excerpt " I am about two hours away from achieving a lifetime goal.  Landing in Spain!  Espana!  I almost feel like I'm in an unreal state.  I feel like I am in a dream.  I feel as though I left a world behind; just got up and left.  I am cutting through the sky, parting the wind of the Atlantic ocean; and headed to a distant archaic land."  As I wrote furiously, most passengers slept: I eagerly watched the morning sunrise as it appeared over the horizon.  After landing in Madrid, I met up with the Pinna's and shortly thereafter we checked into the Hotel Novotel for a 1 night stay in Madrid.  As quickly as we arrived at the hotel, we were out the door ready for some tapas at the local outdoor cafes.  We began to roam about town immediately comfortable in this cosmopolitan city bustling with activity.  I was astounded with the architecture and crowds of people everywhere; modern shopping areas, and prodigious plazas dominated the landscape.  We made our way back to the hotel, and thus ended our 1 day adventure of Madrid, Spain.

The next morning we flew to Seville, picked up a rented Fiat and drove 4 hours to get to our destination in Southern Portugal--Praia do Carvoiero.  What a place!  A majestic sea side treasure banked on the edge of the Mediterranean in the Algarve region of Portugal.  We checked into our time share; a fine example of the architecture of this region; the rooms spacious and comfortable, and the thrill and excitement of just being there was overwhelming.  Of course, it was time to eat and get cash at the local exchange, and that we did almost immediately.  Naturally, I found a small 9 hole golf course, and Mike and I dashed out to play the tiny course.  While neither of us had a memorable round, the atmosphere was festive and enjoyable.  The next day Tony joined us and we had a blast with both The Pinnas lighting it up.  My only highlight was a smashed 4 Iron on the 2nd hole that landed near the hole!   This is a real nice view of the golf course-Vale de MIlho Golf in Praia do Carvoeiro, Portugal!  While the weather was warm and the sun hot; it was perfect for me and so was enjoying the local fare.  It seemed like we were always eating or drinking, and it didn't take long for us to find the best watering holes or port wine!  Journal excerpt: " Last night before we went out, I took a nice hike along the cliffs.  There were some steep drops; a beautiful coastline."  No question about it.  This town is just what a Mediterranean sea side town is like: a beautiful beach, coastline, and all the beauty that surrounds it.  My immediate thought was that someday I was going to bring someone here with me to this beautiful place--I've got to come back!

The next day we shot off to Lagos.  A town about 40km west of Carvoeiro.  We spent a beautiful day around this town.  We shopped and I marveled at the stone work that goes into the streets.  The stones are cut small and formed perfectly to create a very smooth surface.  There were millions of stones covering the passageways of these very small streets!

One of my most memorable days was my 1st ever run in Portugal.  It was a short run, and hot.  At one point, I was almost dehydrated but managed to run for a bout 40 minutes.  I ran through the streets as onlookers gazed at me curiously--running through their hometown--surely an unusual sight!

Otsu, Japan

By Rick Rodriguez

Otsu is located in central Japan, near Osaka and Kyoto.  In 1995, Kyoto, a major city, suffered a devastating earthquake.  The earthquake measured 6.8 magnitude and killed 5500 people, bringing notoriety to the region.  When I visited in 1997, no remnants of the earthquake were apparent; in fact, I discovered a bustling metropolis, clean streets, expeditious transportation, and safety.  It was my first time visiting Asia, and I expected a more oriental feel, and I certainly received that, but I was also amazed with the modernness and hospitality I received as a guest in Japan!

I was traveling with a gentleman from San Francisco that asked me to accompany him to Japan, and through a confluence of events that included leaving San Francisco late, and arriving at LAX for our connection on Japan Airlines late--we nearly missed being there at all!  Looking back, I now wonder whether going was the right thing for my friend Tom, as unfortunately he fell ill, and died in Japan.  Tom, had been sick for some time and had to receive Doctor's permission to go on such a long flight; add to that arriving late and nearly missing our connection caused our reserved seats to be sold, and we were rewarded with the last two seats on the plane--in the smoking section.  It was an 11 hour flight, and I stood in the gangway most of the way there in order to avoid the smoking in my section of the plane.  Tom, unfortunately, couldn't do the same, and in some way that probably hurt him. 

Once we arrived, we checked into the Otsu-Prince Hotel and I went to my room to relax and get cleaned up.  Tom phoned me to tell me he'd meet me in the hotel bar.  On my way down to the bar, I was informed that Tom had passed away; I was on my way down to meet him.  While the occasion presented me with a point of sadness, our host, the Japanese, went into crisis management mode, and made some incredible arrangements and arranged a proper service.  Tom lived a full life, he was 80, and made a significant impact on a variety of events and people.  While the Tom's passing was significantly recognized, our purpose in being there was carried on and a great event ensued. 

The Otsu-Prince Hotel dominates the skyline in Otsu.  And, as a guest, I was treated like royalty by the organizers and the Hotel staff.  Every detail was noted, and the utmost customer care was afforded me.  I was within walking distance to every major convenience including a supermarket next to the Hotel.  

I was looking forward to trying the local Sushi, and when my Japanese friends took me around town, I got to savior some local fish; as well as, other delicacies from this area including fowl/chicken.  No part of the chicken goes to waste, and I had to honor my hosts by sampling everything; which I did (yikes!).  I also hit the aforementioned supermarket for some sushi, and it was the first time in my travels that I had no idea what any signs said, and aside from a sign that said "everyday low prices," the place was sans English!  So, after picking out some sushi, chocolate milk, and a tube of wasabi sauce, I headed back to the Hotel for some local flavor.  Needless to say, the tubed wasabi smoked away the hair from my nostrils and I never really got to taste the sushi, but now I know what real wasabi feels and tastes like!

I also got treated to some Japanese gaming Pachinko style, and actually won a few hundred bucks.  It sure seemed like a set up by my Japanese hosts, but I did walk out with a nice wad of new found cash.  The place had a casino like atmosphere and from what I understand the game is popular throughout the country.    

Of course, the main purpose of my trip was to compete in the World Left-Handed golf tournament.  The tournament was contested over 4 golf courses at the renowned Seta Golf Course, and the story of that tournament and experience deserves its own post.  However, I will say, that of my life's golf experiences, the tournament in Japan has to rank as in my top 3 of all-time, Spyglass in Pebble Beach is my Number 1 followed by Powerscourt in Enniskerry, Ireland. 

While the tournament started on a melancholic note, Tom's passing, it ended with a celebration of countries unified in the common theme--the love of golf; played left-handed, and the camaraderie of being residents of planet earth!  If I ever return to central Japan, I'll be sure to stay at the Otsu-Prince Hotel!

    

Launceston, Tasmania Australia

By Rick Rodriguez

On October 17, 1998, I arrived in Launceston, Tasmania.  Tasmania is an island-state located south of the continent of Australia.  The purpose of my trip was to play in two golf tournaments.  In one of the tournament rounds, I met David Direen, an Australian from Hobart.  Hobart is located on the south coast of Tasmania.  David, invited me to stay at his house over the weekend that was sandwiched between the Australian National Left-Handed Golf Tournament and the World Left-Handed Golf Tournament.  I went for the weekend but prior to that I spent a week in Launceston.

 Launceston is known mostly for its parks and gardens.  Cataract Gorge, located near my hotel, is a place I got to know by foot.  I ran the Gorge several times over the week I was there.  My runs would start from my hotel and I'd run through town streets until I crossed the suspension bridge spanning Cataract Gorge.  I'd run the Duck Reach Trail and return on the Zig Zag trail.  As I ran, I'd stop and try to capture the moments I was experiencing.  I do this frequently on my international runs because usually it is a once in a lifetime experience.  In the case of Cataract Gorge, I now wish I could have spent more time running those trails.  Nonetheless, the memories and notes of my experiences are vivid.  Here's a picture of the suspension bridge.  I caught the Gorge on a fairly benign day.   My runs were fairly tough but I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the region.   

I also made a very harrowing trip to Cradle Mountain.  Cradle Mountain is located South West of Launceston.  I went out to the mountain with friends from England, Gordon and Pam, and we decided to adventure into the King Soloman Caves; as well as, hike into the mountain.  The harrowing part of this adventure is that we never planned to have an extended stay on the mountain nor travel without a guide or map.  In fact, everything I've ever learned about hiking into the unknown--we violated!  No food, water, or adequate clothing. 

After a fairly benign hike, we decided to grab what appeared to be another short route, and after signing into the previous trail, we failed to resign the mountain log indicating our presence on the the new trail or mountain.  As we scampered up the mountain, the runoff had moistened the root covered trail to the point where injury was inevitable. Late afternoon turned into early evening as we reached the summit; much to our surprise a snow covered mountain, and needless to say I was beginning to realize that we might be in a bit of trouble.   As we moved through knee deep snow, I caught the sight of a bushy looking creature (a wombat), and I wondered if he was hungry for humans?  We moved across the mountain looking for signs of the trail, and as we traversed the canopy of trees we eventually found our way out of the mountain, but not before we encountered a group of wallabies; undoubtedly wondering what the heck we were doing up there!  As the 2.5 hour trip turned toward 5 hours, we made it back down to our car.  As we thawed, relieved, we got back on the road and headed back to our hotel.  On the way back, we stopped at The Mole Creek Inn for dinner in the unforgetable town of Mole Creek (?), and ended up getting back to the Hotel late. Needless to say, it was a heckuva time up in Cradle Mountain!!!   And while luck was on our side, the trip was risky but a great story to tell...

Australian National Left-Handed Golf Tournament Tasmania, Australia

By Rick Rodriguez

In 1998, I spent three weeks on the Island of Tasmania.  This is the tear drop land mass south of the continent of Australia.  I went there to play in two golf tournaments: the Australian National Left-Handed Golf Championship, and the World Left-Handed Golf Championship.  Tasmania is a 20 hour flight including stops from San Francisco !  I left out of Los Angeles (LAX) to Auckland in 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 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 course; 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 one week in 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.  He has promised to come visit me at home, and when that day comes I'm sure it will include a friendly little game of GOLF!

  

Dublin, Ireland

I visited the emerald isle in 2005.  I was competing in two golf tournaments.  Needless to say, I played a lot of golf, but I also got a chance to get a bit familiar with the land of the leprechaun.  And oh, what a time it was, visiting Ireland was yet another dream come true for me.  And, of the many destinations that I've had the great fortune to visit--IRELAND--is one I hope to return to for a visit.

I flew from SFO to Atlanta via Delta Airlines, and after a short lay over in Atlanta, I was on my way to Ireland.  Once I landed at the Dublin Airport, I grabbed a cab to the City West Hotel.  I engaged the cab driver in small talk as I gazed at the landscape (typical Industrial surrounding airports), and in a short time, I was checking into my hotel. A short while later, I made my way out to the City West Golf Course, and played 18 holes, 9 with Doug Butt, a fellow member of the Northern California Left-Handed Golf Association. I made it past the typical jet lag, and began to get comfortable being alone in Ireland.

After a day of rest, the James Cup tournament commenced, and we began to play the first of 3 rounds of Ryder Cup style golf.  My partner and I won our first match handedly, but I seemed to struggle with my game a bit the next round and a half.  Though I lost my singles match on the final day to Derek Wardaugh of England, I beat him on the back 9 to earn a point for the US side.  The US team won the James Cup.

During breaks between golf, I went to dinner with many of the International Players, and hung out at the Hotel bar; a lively place where many of the players gathered to renew friendships and make new ones.  I saw many of my old friends: Dave Direen and Keith Martin from Australia come to mind.  I also ran around Dublin eating at the restaurants, going to the Universities, taking city tours, etc.  I visited the Guinness factory, the purveyors of a real dark beer--a favorite for me.  After partaking in a fine glass of Guinness, I took a horse drawn carriage into the Temple Bar district featured above and had a nice lunch while getting more comfortable in Dublin.  I found Dublin to be a vibrant city, enormous and quite populated.  I felt completely comfortable and extremely safe though I never failed to walk briskly with an awareness of my belongings.  I found my much coveted Hard Rock Cafe pin, and after a long day headed back to my hotel.  

The world tournament started the following week, and again, I started off with some fine efforts.  I played well at Castlewarden Golf & Country Club in Castlewarden, Co Kildare opening with a 39 on the front 9 but couldn't sustain the effort.  I struggled immensely the second day at Naas Golf Club, but as wily as the game of golf tends to be, it gave me a lifetime memory, and Eagle (2) on the par 4 9th hole.  After hitting my drive down a swale on the right side of the fairway, I found my ball lying on a clean patch of dirt.  After discussing my club selection with my caddy, I selected a nine iron for the approach, as the ball climbed toward the setting sun, I saw it disappear near the flag of the uphill green.  As I climbed the hill, my only thought was making the birdie putt, my caddy mentioned something like "it will be close," and as we approached the green there was not a ball in sight.  I looked beyond the green as my caddy approached the hole, and YES, the shot had struck dead center in the CUP!  What a remarkable thrill!  The final day I made about a 40 foot putt on the 18th hole at City West Golf course to shoot 39 on the final 9 the last day.  That was also a fantastic golf thrill, but second to my memory of Naas Golf Club.

After the 2nd round on Tuesday, I rented a car downtown and headed cross country, I had no plans for a destination, I just wanted to see Ireland from the ground level.  Immediately, I noticed that their country roads are extremely narrow, and a word of caution--site seeing from country roads while driving is not recommended!  After skirting past a few areas, I decided to head to Limerick via Nenaugh.  I stopped in Nenaugh and investigated some old ruins and a Gothic type church.  Though I must have stood out because of my video camera, no one bothered me, but I escaped rather quickly from this town and got about with my business of heading to Limerick.  I figured I'd find a place to stay in Limerick, but once I got there I drove around aimlessly.  I couldn't find anything to my liking so I decided to head to Waterford (home of the famous Crystal makers), and as I drove from Limerick to Waterford, early evening turned into night.  I stopped for gas, coffee, and snacks in one of the many small towns I passed, all the while handling the tasks of opposite hand driving comfortably. 

I arrived in Waterford in the late evening (past midnight), and drove around town for some time before I found a suitable hotel.  The next morning, I awoke to a bustling town, had breakfast, toured Waterford's oldest landmark, an excellent example of late 12th and early 13th century mural or wall tower--Reginald's tower; then I headed north toward Wicklow via Wexford.  In Wexford, I spotted another tower near the Wexford harbor, and stopped the car for a peek.  I spotted what appeared to be a little used trail, and with the video camera rolling I went for a narrated stroll along the harbor.  I was correct, the trail was hardly used, but was a fine example of Ireland's green foliage, and the memories of this brief jaunt are quite vivid for me.  Again, I never really felt at risk or threatened for my safety, though squeamish might come to mind, I prefer adventure travel.  

Once I got to Wicklow Co., I happened upon a town called Enniskerry, I parked and hit the ATM, I marveled somewhat at the ease of getting cash from my bank account back home, and then headed to a small hotel for lunch.  After lunch, I strolled about town taking pictures of houses and the small quaint town, then someone mentioned that I should walk up the street to a small church.  I did and discovered near there the Powerscourt estate and Golf Course. A dream afternoon of golf ensued in a place that can only be described as paradise.  The course, grounds, and experience were once in a lifetime. I took advantage of the opportunity playing several shots; lying on the grass admiring Wicklow mountain, and generally absorbing the essence of the place.  It was another special moment for me on my 1st visit to Ireland!