This story may take a while to get going, but it will fall into
place, so please be patient. I ran into a friend last week that I
had not seen in a while. After a cordial exchange of what we both
had been up to lately, he commented that he continues to read my
column and was still waiting for me to feature a story on wine that
can be purchased at the Gilroy Grocery Outlet.
This story may take a while to get going, but it will fall into place, so please be patient.
I ran into a friend last week that I had not seen in a while. After a cordial exchange of what we both had been up to lately, he commented that he continues to read my column and was still waiting for me to feature a story on wine that can be purchased at the Gilroy Grocery Outlet.
For those not familiar with the Gilroy Grocery Outlet (GGO), I liken the establishment, respectfully, to the equivalent of a garage sale grocery market. On any given day, you can find some interesting food or household items at deeply discounted prices. Many of these goods come to the store as discontinued items, items nearing their expiration dates, items that are overstocked by other stores or from stores that are liquidating or going out of business.
Some great finds that I have found in recent weeks include: a six-ounce spreadable goat cheese from France for $1, normally $5 in most stores; a 16-ounce tin of lump crab for $7, normally $15 dollars in most stores; and finally, a 20-ounce box of chocolate Lucky Charms for $1!
I have avoided the rather large selection of wine that the store carries, mostly because I was skeptical that good wine could be found there. Being spurred by my friend, I decided to investigate the matter more thoroughly and with empirical research.
Some rambunctious friends of mine had invited me to go hiking in Yosemite National Park this past weekend, a destination I had yet to visit, despite the fact that it is only a few hours away. I decided I was going to purchase a selection of wine from the GGO, trek the bottles up one of the mountain passes and let my companions decide over dinner what wines they liked.
I have hiked and camped before, but I am not passionate about it. While I was definitely the greenest outdoors person on the trip, I was not completely without experience. What I was completely out of was equipment! I approached one of my best friends, Brad Nye, to see if I could sponge any equipment off him. Brad lent me a sleeping bag, framed backpack, tent and other miscellaneous camping apparel.
We both had been told by our companions leading the expedition that the hike was going to be a little more than four miles, along a moderate route that would lead us to our camp near Dewey Point. “I used to know hardcore hikers that would drill holes in their toothbrushes, just to shave a little weight off their packs,” Brad reminisced. “Pack light.” I laughed as I loaded five bottles of wine into my pack. I figured I was in decent shape and thought this would be a jaunt in the park.
This past weekend has been planned in advance, to capture a lunar eclipse and the full moon that was going to rise up over the park and light up the valley floor.
Our group, lovers of nature, but too old to go without some creature comforts, decided to load up a man-made sled with a small grill, charcoal, steaks, vegetables and beverages that would help us battle the chill of the evenings. The sled was basically two skis that had been reinforced with 2-by-4s, wooden cross beams and a plywood platform – sturdy, not too flexible, and with all the “equipment,” quite heavy at 85 pounds. A rope had been fastened to some eye-hole screws at the front of the sled, allowing one to tow the sled about three feet behind the carrier.
All hikers were wearing snowshoes and some had poles for balance. One brute in the group, Dr. Greg Martinez, volunteered to haul the sled first. I trudged along at the end of the formation, soaking in the beauty of the warm, sunny day. Like a lemming, I just followed those in front of me, not noticing that our leaders had not chosen the meadow passage, but rather the black diamond passage – i.e., the most difficult.
The two leaders, poetically the most-fit individuals, bolted ahead of the remaining group at breakneck speed, abandoning us with the sled. After a heroic first half mile, probably the steepest part of the hike, Greg had expended most of his energy. Without being braggadocios, someone else had to take the reins – me. I felt like a sled dog as I strapped the rope around my shoulders and started to mush up the mountain. My pack weighed more than 50 pounds, and dragging that sled through melting snow, at high elevation, was a challenge.
As I sweated profusely, resting occasionally, and cursing those who abandoned us constantly, I had three things that kept me motivated.
Tune in next week to hear the rest of the tale.
Cheers!
