Alfalfa Bill and Vistek Ranchero
Ever have one of those days where weird, wonderful things happen and you finish the day just thrilled to be alive?
I woke up at six when the alarm went off, collected my bicycle riding stuff (helmet, safety orange shirt, Gatorade, GPS, route recorder, etc.) and headed out to Tishomingo, Oklahoma. It was the day of the 35th Alfalfa Bill Bike Tour. I had been planning on this ride most of the year, and I already had my bicycle in its carrier on the back of my car.
The day couldn’t have been better, with clear skies, a little warm with a little breeze to keep me cool. I have done this ride three times now, the first time for thirty miles, and then the rest at twenty miles. Yeah, I’m not as young as I once was. I was wearing a heart monitor wrapped around my chest, synched to the Garmin GPS machine on the bike.
I was one of the first to check in at the Chickasaw Information Center in the middle of Tishomingo and got my swag bag with a sweat shirt and a lot of other stuff like tumblers, sport drink bottle, free tickets to restaurants in the area, etc.
At nine o’clock we were briefed on the different routes, which they had marked with arrows painted on the roads in various colors, depending on which course you were riding. They had a choice between 10, 20, 30 45, 65, and 100 miles. All were led out of town to the east by a police cruiser with all lights flashing, and a couple of miles out of town he pulled over as we all pedaled by. I waved and hollered a thank you and picked up the yellow arrows for my twenty mile course.
The wind started to come on strong from the south, which helped on the first half of the course as we went north. At the ten mile point there was a rest stop, where I picked up some delicious cookies, and had a small drink of water before I continued on. Not many bathrooms on this trek, so an old guy has got to be careful!
Because of the wind, which was blowing down small branches, we had to fight our way back into Tishomingo. You get to appreciate those lower gears. The object is to find a gear that lets you pedal fast and easy, not slow and hard. I have 16 gears on my road bike, and hills and wind will keep me shifting constantly.
I got back to town with 20.8 miles showing and checked out with the race officials so they knew I made it back. I put the bike back on the car and drove home, tired but happy.
Darlene was up when I got to the house, and asked how the ride went. I was still glowing and told her how much I enjoyed the ride. After trying to upload the data on the ride to Facebook, without much luck, I went outside and took a nap on the front porch in my camp chair out of the wind.
Later that evening I asked Darlene if she wanted to go out to eat. “Sure!” she said. Since she started her chemo therapy and got her ID card for Medical Marijuana, her appetite has come back with a vengeance. I enjoy seeing her awake and alert again.
We drove over to Los Arcos Restaurant in Calera, Oklahoma, which has a large room with lots of tables and booths and good food to boot. It is Tex-Mex, I’m sure, because the menu lists Vistek Ranchero. Translated from Spanglish, that would be Rancher’s Beefsteak. That’s not Spanish! But it’s good!
We had just sat down, been served drinks and chips with salsa, and relaxed to listen to the man on the keyboard playing and singing Mexican music.
Suddenly I heard a familiar tune. So did Darlene. She said, “Listen to that!” I already was. Made a complete fool of myself sobbing at the table, and it took me a minute to get my composure back again. I wiped the tears off of my face, and hiked over to the musician, and tipped him five bucks for playing that song. “Lo Mucho Que Te Quiero” was the title. It was a big, but local, hit in Southern California in 1969, when my wife and I got married there. Darlene was just eight at the time, but she remembered.
You never hear it anymore. I’ve heard it once since then, when Featherstone Assisted Care Home put on an Anniversary Party for Carolyn and I just months before she died in 2018. I think they found an original recording by René and René on YouTube. When Carolyn heard it the memory broke through the Alzheimer’s and she leaned forward and smiled.
Coincidence? Serendipity? What are the chances that the piano guy in a restaurant we frequent every other month would find that particular song and play it for us? Fifty three years after it was popular. Wow!
Today was the kind of day that fills your heart with gladness.
I am so glad I was alive today!
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