We made a last-minute trip addition to the San Francisco trip when Jim got asked to fill in for a canceled speaker. This was a good idea money-wise, but it did cause a few problems beyond those of figuring out how to handle plant watering, mail-stopping and appointment-changing at home.

Problem #1: We packed for highs of 70 degrees. Turned out that SF was even warmer than that, so we definitely used all our “just in case it’s warmer than that” clothes while in SF. Tucson has been having highs of 95! First, wash clothes. Then, time for shopping! So, Jim has some new shirts and I have new sandals, capris and a couple of blouses.

Problem #2: The conference for which Jim was hired was held at a dude ranch. Now, this is an interesting idea, and one that we might actually enjoy if we had planned ahead. However, being plopped here without warning from SF made us feel like somehow we’d become characters on Green Acres. We were definitely city dudes in the country. At the ranch, everyone goes horseback riding. Well, almost everyone. And even if they don’t ride, they sure as heck are all wearing jeans, shirts, boots and cowboy hats. I don’t even have jeans with me. I’m wearing cute new capris from Napa Valley. Aaaarrgghh. And, as if this isn’t bad enough, the place has wi-fi in a few public areas and that’s it for the internet. And, whaddayathink about cell signals? And then there was the little matter of the television—like there wasn’t one in the room. ?!??!?! Again, this is not inherently bad in principle, and I like “getting away from it all” as much as the next guy, but hey, it’s baseball AND football season. Sheesh!

So, after the first night, we moved to a Residence Inn located much closer to the center of Tucson. The city girl was back in a city and the boy could do the work he was planning to do at home. Ahhhhh……

And, of course we added a “Jim adventure.” We returned to Chiricahua National Monument (about an hour and a half from Tucson) mostly because our previous trip to that geologically lovely place was during rather inclement weather. That was Jim’s story. However, now that I’ve been on the trip, I realize that that was just the excuse for getting me to agree to visit Ft. Bowie National Historic Site. Admittedly it is very close to Chiricahua as western distances go, and the weather was pretty good—sunny, temps around 90—so it seemed like a good idea to me. But, what Jim was withholding was the fact that the Visitor’s Center is a mile and a half hike from the parking area off of the 8-mile unpaved road you need to drive along to get there.

Now, did I mention I didn’t have any jeans? So, for the outdoor adventure (remember, I didn’t know about the required hike) I was wearing a pair of light-weight (good for the temps), black knit slacks (think Chico’s). Very chic—although I did pair it with my Team Sweden T-shirt so I didn’t look quite so much like a Green Acres character. This hike, though advertised as a gentle hike, was not quite so gentle as I would have liked. There were hills and dales, rocks and loose gravel, and of course, desert things.

Now, you may not know about my relationship with deserts. I don’t like them. Deserts and oceans are both filled with things that can kill you. Plants with thorns and spines, creatures that poison you, insects that bite, etc. So, as we hiked, I was constantly on the lookout for rattlesnakes and scorpions (didn’t see any), fire ants (don’t know what they look like but there were gazillions of ants) and plants with stickers, prickers, spines and other dangerous parts. Naturally, these were lined along the path so you have to know I was plenty careful while walking. I did get caught on plant parts a couple of times, but there were only minor injuries.

On our way to the Visitor Center we encountered two older women returning. This was just enough to fire my competitive spirit and keep me from too much whining. (Jim is always grossly overcommitted to these kinds of adventures—obsessed really—and wouldn’t turn back unless he was in an ambulance. Should he have any common sense, it evades him in these types of circumstances.)

Anyway, we made it. The ruins were pretty pathetic since within about a year of decommissioning of the fort (in 1894 for heaven’s sake!) it was disassembled by local residents for any salvageable building materials. But we did learn about the efforts to battle and capture Cochise and other Chiricahua Apaches. It does make you wonder what it would be like today if we could have ceded the Apaches some of this godforsaken land. (For better or for worse, even when a treaty was in effect giving them some land, those fierce Apaches kept attacking settlers near their border. This was not the best way to make friends and influence people.) Still, the general effect was to make me feel sorry for the Indians, vicious though they were.

Let’s just say that Jim Smith is not going to be in San Francisco for multiple days and not visit Wine Country. So, two trips to SF, two trips to Napa.

Trip 1 was an adventure made possible by our friends at Biltmore Estate. They set us up to meet their West Coast winemaker. I didn’t actually believe that’s whom we were meeting. (Yes, Jim told me that, but really, who can believe him? It’s not like he always gets his stories straight or anything.) But, there he was, Mr. Aaron Mosely, winemaker and chief Biltmore representative in Napa, responsible for making the wines that have to be made in California, and shipping the grapes or juices that are used to make the wines in Asheville. We had a truly fantastic experience (and I don’t particularly get thrilled at visiting wineries so that’s saying something), learning a lot about Biltmore and winemaking.

I was especially pleased to hear that Aaron really likes working for Biltmore and the many growers that sell grapes to Biltmore like dealing with them, too. Always nice to hear the home team is doing a good job. (Not that I’m not already enamored by Biltmore.)

Then, as if that wasn’t cool enough, Biltmore also arranged for us to take a tour of Opus One. That was interesting, if for no other reason than they spare no expense when making the wine so their techniques are quite different from “normal” wineries.

Trip 2 was a bus tour with a couple hundred bankers. We all stopped at Vinasa Winery where we had a brief tour, a tasting and quite a nice lunch. Jim, of course, couldn’t resist buying some wine. (He is so easy.) After lunch, each bus headed off to a different winery. We went to Rutherford Hills. Again, a brief tour (ho hum), tasting, Jim buying, etc. Then, a little more interesting to me, a shopping stop in Calistoga where I bought just a few things for our unexpected continuation to Tucson. And then, the big finish.

All the buses met up again at Clos Pegase, a very lovely winery designed to resemble a modern version of a Greco-Roman temple. Here we avoided the brief tour (ahhh) and were merely invited to assemble among the columns for wine, sunset, strolls past the Henry Moore, Miro, et al. sculptures and pretty awesome hors d’oeuvres. After this lovely reception, we then filed into the (storage) cave for dinner. Nothing like 200+ people sitting at candlelit tables in stuccoed underground tunnels eating very good food to make a memorable evening. This, of course, was the highlight of Jim’s trip. (I think it beat Gary Danko for him, but I’m not sure.)

And, just to make sure it WAS memorable, at dessert, one of the two couples we were sitting with became engaged. The guy, Jim, placed the ring right on Shirley’s dessert. The other couple, their friends, didn’t react very much as they knew that these folks had been living together for quite a while. However, after I noticed, and commented on, a rather flamboyant kiss, they pointed out the ring. I, of course, reacted hugely. I asked if she’d said yes and the answer was that he hadn’t actually asked. So I suggested he get to it. At that point, he got down on his knee and asked, and she replied in the affirmative. By this time we had caused a bit of a ruckus, drawing attention to our table. When our neighbors saw Jim on his knee, they figured it out and that drew applause from all the nearby tables. It was all great fun.

We were in San Francisco for about two weeks in September, on two different trips. Trip 1, for a NABE meeting, found us lodging at Union Square. This was a great neighborhood for touring—and shopping. Despite a few (modest) hills I had plenty of fun walking the area—and not just because Market Street, home of Nordstrom’s and other stores, was in easy reach. We walked to restaurants, the theater (saw Jersey Boys and highly recommend it), church, and Chinatown (where we bought our second digital camera in the same electronics store we got our first one in several years ago—from the very same Swiss(!) salesman—who woulda thunk it?…except for Jim-the-Optimist).

During Trip 2, for a speech, we stayed at the Fairmont on Nob Hill. And that should tell you everything. Unless I was wearing workout clothes, walking in the ‘hood was out of the question. Nob Hill is steep in every direction and absolutely no fun to walk on, either up or down. But, we did make a great tourist discovery. You can buy a Muni transit pass (we got ours at the Stanford Court) and hop on and off the cable cars, trolleys and buses to your heart’s content. And the Fairmont is at the intersection of two cable car lines. That was a relief.

My favorite restaurant of the trips was Farallon. We’d been there before (although sadly I didn’t remember that until we walked in—I am so bad at that) and had a great meal. We were accompanied (and unexpectedly treated, I might add) by our Finnish friends, Timo and Anya Tyrväinen.

Jim and I had a severe difference of opinion on the other fancy restaurant we went to. He was itching to go to Gary Danko, a 1-star Michelin place and, theoretically, the best restaurant in town (according to whom I cannot say). It is VERY HARD to get into and we basically had to hope that someone canceled a reservation, that the restaurant called us (and we answered!), and that we didn’t already have plans and could say yes. I, of course, don’t really like spending that much money for a single meal. Even when it’s heavenly I find it difficult to do, and kowtowing to their reservation system aggravated me. But, Jim was on a mission.

Over the course of our two trips, we turned down two 9:00 reservations before hitting on a 7:30. The only hitch with the 7:30 was that it had to be for four people. That would have been easy with the NABE crowd, but no, it was during the speech trip. Eventually Jim was so desperate he asked the ranking senior official of our hosts if he could find a couple to go with us. And, somehow, Lucky Jim landed on his feet. Not only did we end up with a very interesting couple (former bank owners from Texas) but they offered to pay. How does that man get that lucky? And it WAS lucky because I didn’t even think it was that good of a restaurant. The meal was fine, but not heavenly, and the place was crowded and not particularly posh. But, no harm, no foul.