The Sporting Life with Botsie

Sunday was the first warn day up here, captains, and last week I found my first dandelion green on a south-facing slope, so it is time for my yearly column about a dandelion salad. It is not exactly the dandelion season here yet; the best time to dig for dandelions is when the robin starts to dig for worms. But since spring is coming to most of the readers sooner than it comes to Crested Butte, I will do this column now so you readers can get dandelions when they are at their young best.
What you want to get is the real young dandelion greens — almost before they are really green. The best eating dandelions are the little reddish-green or whitefish shoots that you see grow where the snow has just melted from off the ground.
Later on, when the snows are all gone and the dandelions seem to mostly be old dandelions, go to the fields and pastures, and look on the mounds by the gopher holes; there you will usually find little shoots.
Take a knife for getting the greens, make sure you go beneath the soil to get the whole green, as the part just above the roots is the tender part.
When you have got a box or a pan full of dandelion greens, take them home and wash them good to get all the grit off them. Then let them sit overnight if possible in a pan of cold water, to crisp them up. You can treat them just about like lettuce, keep them in your refrigerator crisper if you want.
You eat them just like you would eat an endive lettuce too. I like to salt them real good, and mix them with oil and vinegar, when I want a good fast salad.
If I have a little more time, I make up this special bacon-grease salad dressing. To make it, you cut up a piece of slab bacon into tiny chunks; then you put them in a pan, along with some Mazola-type oil, and let them simmer until the chunks are crisp. Then you take the pan off the stove to cool it off. As soon as it is cool enough so the vinegar does not splatter if it hits the grease, add wine vinegar to suit your taste. Then put the pan back on the stove to keep it warm. When you are ready to serve the salad, pour the bacon grease dressing over the dandelion greens. This is a hard-to-beat salad, captains; I guarantee you will like it with fish and potatoes, or maybe a steak.
Keep the dandelion recipes in mind; this kind of a salad is especially handy if you are going on a camping trip.       There is no need to pack along lettuce with the good Lord providing dandelions at every gopher hole or snow bank. But it is also nice even if you are just at home—when you go out to weed the lawn the next time, save the dandelions, and you will have two jobs done at once.
(Our good friend Rudolph Spritzer passed on a few years back but we still communicate almost on a daily basis. This is one of his best columns written in 1974.)

Letters to the Pea Green Answer Man

Dear Pea Green Answer Man

Do cats suck the breath of babies?   Odie

Dear Odie:   It is a common but mistaken notion that cats sometimes suck the breath of human beings. Many people believe that children are often almost suffocated by having their breath sucked by cats. This belief no doubt arose from the fact that cats like to sit or lie on the breast of a sleeping person, thus making breathing somewhat difficult, especially in the case of a baby or small child.   Pea Green Answer Man

 

Dear Pea Green Answer Man

Does a snake’s tail wiggle until sunset? Anonymous

Dear Anonymous   There is an old belief that after the rest of a snake is killed its tail will continue to live until sundown. Owing to the reaction of the snake’s nervous system its tail will continue to wiggle long after the snake is otherwise apparently dead. But there is nothing to the notion that it will continue to wiggle until sunset and then stop.      PGAM

 

Dear Pea Green Answer Man

Does a drowned man float face down and a woman face up?   Surfer Joe, Ouray Pool

Dear Surfer   There is a popular belief that the body of a drowned man floats face down and that of a woman face up. The belief, however, is not confirmed by observation. Lifeguards who have seen hundreds of drowned persons say if it holds true in some cases it is probably due to the difference in the wearing apparel customarily worn by men and women.   Pea Green Answer Man

Dear Pea Green Answer Man

Why do dogs often turn around several times before lying down?   Garfield

Dear Garfield   Nearly everybody has observed that some dogs often turn around several times before lying down. Scientists attempt to explain this trait by the theory of evolution. They say that our domestic dogs descended from a species of wild dog or wolf. These progenitors of the dog lived in the forest or brush and in order to find a comfortable place to rest they had to trample down the grass and other vegetation. A relic of this instinct still survives in the dog which turns around several times before lying down. On this subject Professor John Arthur Thomson, the noted Scotch naturalist, says: “The hand of the past is upon the present, both for good and ill. Take, for instance, a common sight – the sleepy dog turning round and round on the hearth-rug. In its sleepiness there has probably reawakened the ancient habit of turning round and round in the herbage so as to make a comfortable bed for the night. It is probable that the living hand of the past is on the dog in front of the fire.”   PGAM

 

Dear Pea Green Answer Man

What distinguishes a blond from a brunet (sic)?    Goldilocks 

Dear Goldilocks   The terms blond and brunet are relative. It is impossible to draw a sharp distinction between them. Many persons have both blond and brunet characteristics. Generally in such a classification the complexion of the skin and the color of the hair and the eyes are taken into consideration. A blond is a person with light or pale skin, light hair and blue or gray eyes; a brunet is a person with dark or olive skin and brown or black hair and eyes.    Pea Green Answer Man

 

Sweet, salty ancient city

Hoi An, Vietnam

Dawn dreams fade into green rice fields and foggy skies.

“It’ll burn off in an hour,” she says looking out at our neighbors and their water buffalo already at work. “Until then I want to sit here and watch the rice grow. Listen, the local garbage truck is playing happy wakeup tunes.”

This lazy behavior will pass for now he thought but once the sun is properly up it’s heads down and pedal to the metal. The ladies of the terrace would not think well of guests that arrive for breakfast with egg already on their faces, awash in a sea of indecision or simply not hungry.

We had traded the roughing it rivers of Laos for the tranquility of the Central Vietnam coast. A stopover in Hanoi, “The Land of a Million Noodle Shops” where water puppet theaters, daily batches of cheap beer and street food abound, was noisy and crowded. Every street corner seemed to be filled with children’s furniture, teas and steaming pots of local specialties

 

Hoi An Waterfront

Hanoi is anarchy with bits of thousand-years-old culture hanging onto the back of a motorbike, horn a blasting. (Editor’s note: Please be advised that what says roast chicken on the menu may in fact be roast chicken feet which many people are said to enjoy.)

An hour away by plane and a short drive delivers us to The Hoi An Greenlife Homestay. Of all the enchanting guesthouses in this world heritage locale, this one stands out. The room is spacious and airy while bright green rice fields dominate the view. The design is thoughtful, the touches plentiful, the location perfect and the attitude of the staff (Ngoc, Dung, Loan and Ni) was beyond measure. This is the way to operate a successful guesthouse. We suggest making reservations at least two months ahead and specifying the rice paddy view.

The breakfast feast (included in the room tariff of $40 for two) starts with delicious Vietnamese coffee (see Sweet Revenge saga coming up) and juice. Our morning munching continues with spicy Morning Glory and plates of accompanying greens. Then we have friend sticky rice and stuffed dumplings (Ban Bao) with an impressive fresh fruit plate and baguette. The main course is comprised of Cao Lau, a pork soup dish similar to Pho which is beef-based. It drowns out any call for fried eggs. Cau Lau is a Hoi An original and one won’t find it outside of Hoi An, so they tell us.

These daily breakfasts were also the site for the final chapter of the “Sweet Revenge” Saga, which began in Bangkok some five weeks earlier. Every morning a bitter struggle ensues between Fresh Coffee Aficionados and what we will call Nescafe Thought. Unless you like coffee that tastes like Dr Pepper you are in for a test of wills. The problem is that coffee is taken with lots of sugar and sweetened milk here. Never mind that the crop is grown in country. Forget that some people actually like the taste of coffee.

     In Lao they say Baw sai naam-tan karuna, which means no sugar please. I managed to communicate that on the last morning in that wonderful country and enjoyed the exchange immensely.

     Therefore, if you’re not paying total attention at all times you will be presented with a hot cup of sweet Nescafe and a smile. The most effective way to get the coffee you like is to ask for fresh coffee (it’s probably hidden back between the mangoes and the goat’s milk) and bring your own unsweetened milk or cream. After a few episodes the server will see that you are picky about your morning brew and make the necessary adjustments, maybe.

     Even after extended conversations about coffee quality here and the caffeine subculture worldwide I still got Nescafe and sweetened milk from the same nice people who would always do what it takes to make me feel special. (Many of our readers have written in suggesting that one skips the coffee thing altogether and go directly to a morning beer or breakfast cylinder, a malt beverage whose taste tends to be more regulated and controlled and does not depend on foreign additives after the fact.)

 

After devouring the fare we grab our bicycles (compliments of the guest house) and towels and head to either to the more local An Bang Beach or Cua Dai Beach, with its bigger hotel scene. Both measure up quite well to beaches in Brasil, Thailand or the Mediterranean.

Alas, the situation threatens to turn stressful. Which beach should we go to today? The Adventures of Bicycles and Buses is a little less frightening on the An Bang route and if the visitor gets off the beaten path and into a village or two he can avoid some of the large traffic on a skinny roadway. The entire matter of survival has something to do with fish streaming together into the sea but I never grasped the concept. (Make note that during the 6 am rush hour all contrived understanding curves, digested explanation charts and personal growth data should be tossed out the window until at least 8 am when the bicycle hoards are culled a bit.)

But back to the beach: Near the main beach road sits Baby Mustard, a restaurant and cooking school in the Tra Que Vegetable Village. Great food woth a garden view. Ask for Ms. Cao Nhu Nguyet and the sesame pork dish. Lunch and dinner served daily.

Ringed by Cham Island and the gentle surf of the East Sea our beach experience comes complete with coconut palms, bicycle parking lots, rows of lounge chairs and ice-cold Saigon, Tiger, Bierre Larue beers for a dollar.

Highly recommended at An Bang is Nam Gia Seafood, a family operation…second stall from the right, next to last bicycle parking area.

“What if the beer isn’t cold?” I ask a young lady from Nam Gia. “You no pay,” she says. What if it’s too cold?” You pay double.” She smiles.

Roaming the beaches here are legions of hawkers we call hawkettes. They sell an ungodly number of pear-brained, non-essential items and some utilitarian treasures such as sunglasses and peanuts. They are smart and funny as a rule, and can be easily disarmed by a personal touch. Soon the conversation can be hijacked to family and children. “What’s your name beautiful lady? Do your children like crayons and balloons?”

Then the mindless selling is on hold for a moment as they size you up. They talk to my companion about hair and skin tones and call me Happy Buddha Belly, which I prefer to accept as a term of endearment.

Pedaling home amid mad cabs and buses, we see that a local man named Buffalo Yung will pose with his oblivious animal for one dollar. His new book How To Placate an Angry Water Buffalo reportedly comes with an assortment of favorite water buffalo snacks meant to sooth the savage beast. We stop. How could we not?

After six hours in salt water and sand a shower is heavenly. Then a stroll to town for dinner. The stalls are still jammed with junk and the hawkers are busy. The crazy drivers now have lights on their vehicles.

“Hello. You buy something?” rings in my ears. Through the narrow streets we pass people selling everything from cycling tours to baskets of squid. You see a kaleidoscope of quick movements, vivid color and motorbikes, cooking schools, designer sunglasses, spas and a throng of tailors that will make you a new suit in 24 hours.

Vietnamese food is one treat after another. One can sample rice pancakes at Tam Quang Minh, a local vegetarian eatery on Ly Thai To Street near our guesthouse. Ban Xeo (the pancakes) are filled with bean sprouts and other vegetables and/or shrimp served with greens, pickled vegetables, and spring rolls all wrapped in rice paper. Add hot sauce and dip the whole concoction in peanut sauce. Go on. You know you want to. Also Blue Dragon Café on the Thu Bon River next to the Hoi An Market is good and the hosts very warm. Vietnamese specialties are the draw at Ong Bee Lounge, on Nguyen Duy Hieu near the Central Market. Cam Ga signs are everywhere – famed chicken and rice dish. Of course, the most famous Vietnamese dish – Pho – (fur), delicious beef and noodles, is everywhere.

NOTES:

*Fly to DaNang from Hanoi or Saigon (HCM City), then 45 minutes to Hoi An for $20.

*Never saw cops or soldiers or crime in Hoi An in two weeks.

*No detectable animosity toward Americans? Average age there is 21.

*“Chinese were in Vietnam 1000 years, the French for 150 and the American 15” – appraisal by Vietnamese friend.

*If you are hungry in Vietnam you haven’t been paying attention

Another day, another dong?  According to my calculations I saved $387 on gasoline and toilet paper in two months while traveling. Saved $85 by not buying the cute baby monkey in Nong Khiaw, Laos = $472 to get through April and May.

– Kevin Haley

 

 

Barking Study Complete

(Norwood) A $ 1.2 million study aimed at determining why dogs bark has been deemed a huge success by sponsor, Dogland Bank (with lobbyist, Oral Noise (Unitarian-Ophir-Retired). The often tedious study, conducted with the assistance of over 4000 San Miguel County dogs, ran way over cost but took only six years to finish.

“At the end we were forced to drop some of the more bleeding-heart domestic programs and cut back on No Child Left Behind but we feel it was well worth it,” said Noise, a neoconic blue-blood and supporter of the New World Order agenda since World War II. “I can sleep a lot better knowing this data is now in the hands of our greatest scientists and the Agency of Canine Insecurities.”

A close aide then explained that the study was multi-faceted with phase one focused on exactly why dogs bark and phase two reaffirming all postulates from phase one and examining other canine audio options.

“After cross-referencing all data exhumed over the past years I am pleased to report, with unequivocal candor, that dogs bark because they enjoy the exercise…in other words they like to bark,” said the source. “That appears to be the undeniable truth: Over 90% of the drooling respondents agreed that no other viable options exist in that meowing and mooing are degrading while oinking and chirping make them feel silly,” yelped the spokesperson.

The entire study was conducted using sophisticated hand signals, pats on the head and small pieces of meat used as motivational devices throughout both phases of the information gathering. – Fred Zeppelin

TRAIN CHASER FRUSTRATES AUTHORITIES

(Ridgway) Even as a young girl Lucy Mills had a thing for trains. Growing up near Dallas Divide she witnessed the passing from narrow gauge to split rail to the more modern welded steel rail tracks. She saw freight trains, boxcars, hoppers and flatcars. What ever made her want to chase them is anyone’s guess.

All it took was a whistle or maybe just the rumble of a caboose and she was off. One morning, in a rush to catch a slow gondola car she ran out of the cabin with nothing on but her boots and long-handles. She was blooming into quite a woman by then and that sure got some attention.

“We aren’t sure what she’d do if she ever caught one of the trains,” quipped her uncle Dulles Mills. In the beginning I figured she was just a little short of sense but when I saw those eyes gleaming in the light of the engineer’s lamp I knew we were dealing with someone quite special.”

Toole says he actually observed Mills biting at the cross-ties and the rails themselves.

“She’s like a mad dog when the train comes through town,” he frowned. “Not only is she a danger to herself but she scares our passengers.”

That may not be completely true since many tinhorns and other visitors to our country have taken to wagering bets on Mills and her curious endeavors. Last week, near Portland, a Chinese prince lost an estimated $350 when Mills failed to catch a slow freight. Sadly Mills had to be hog-collared by a nearby hump conductor and three gandy dancers who were busy placing ballast on the roadbed.

One of the fastest women in Ouray County, Mills does manage to stay in great shape through her questionable hobby.

“We’d rather see her chasing horses or running down elk but she’s hooked on the trains,” said her father known in town as Pa. “I think it’s the sound and the fact that the trains make such a production of their arrivals and departures. It drives her nuts.”

Several of the leading freight companies have even attempted to hire Mills so as to distract her from the chase but that didn’t work. Apparently she didn’t take to a series of desk jobs preferring to be outside along the tracks.

“At least she doesn’t attempt to ram locomotives like that guy over in Placerville,” said Toole. “Now there was a man obsessed with technology.”

 

Despite what you may have heard

…summer is coming