Local Faire in Flag

Recently, at a birthday party, Ricardo scarfed THREE HAMBURGERS! He couldn’t BELIEVE how good they were. Wanting to spoil neither his fun nor appetite, I hesitated before telling him that they probably weren’t beef or even turkey. Around here you’re more likely to find venison, elk or bison burgers…..fresh, organic, corn fed…hunted from the mountains that surround us. No kidding. Hunting is BIG in Flagstaff. Men and women alike wait with baited breath to see if they will be the lucky Willy Wonka recipients of a hunting tag for the season. Carla, at work, has been waitinfg for two years for her lucky number to pop up. No such fortune for her, only her husband. Who apparently has fell a deer or two this season. (I’m sorry, “fell” really should be used for trees, not animals. I apologize) Anyway, Carla spared no detail in recounting how she and her husband drained a deer on ice for two days before taking it to the processor. She prattled on about how good and flavorful these most recent sausages are saying she would bring me some. “Uh, no thanks!”
Lauralee whose daughter is in the same class as Ifa has traveled many places, speaks several languages and yet just told me that she is moonlighting as a wrapper in a processing plant. Why just last weekend they took in 26 animals! On a good, steady day, they can process and wrap 6 animals: steaks, chops, burgers, sausages….you name it! (The other animals hang in the freezer with their meat aging until it’s their turn to be processed. From what I can gather it is the draining of the blood that determines whether the meat ages versus rotting as it is the case with the sport hunters who don’t take the time to begin the draining process before taking their bounty to the local meat processing plant. WHAT?!!)
While all of these things are a shock to my suburban sensibilities, I really have done my best to take part in the local culture, but the hunting bit is just beyond me. Truthfully, most of the rugged living that goes on here is beyond me! I prefer to live vicariously through those I meet, like my friend Willa.

Willa


I’m not sure when we first met or even we had our first conversation. I just know that Willa has been quite instrumental in acclimating me to life in Flag. Willa has a wonderful sense of humor, a kind heart and a generous spirit. Yet, I didn’t quite know what to make of her in the beginning. First she asked me if I wanted to go ‘shrooming. Next, while we were out walking, she had me sniffing cracks. But, the kicker was finding out that she and her husband have his and her chainsaws. No Joke.

Let me explain…..

‘Shrooming

There were several things I didn’t know about Flagstaff when we first moved here in August. One of which is the fact that Flag has a monsoon season. We moved here right in the middle of it. True to “tropical” weather, we would get daily deluges. (this led to a lot of crockpot meals and homemade bread even though it wasn’t cold!) The monsoon season lasted through the middle of September. I was unhappy and unprepared. As I lamented this to Willa one day she said, “Yeah, but it’s great for ‘shrooming.” “What?!” “’Shrooming” she repeated. I looked behind me to make sure no one was listening, I mean after all, we do work in an educational institution and I was having flashbacks to high school! (a more virtuous friend said…”a flashback to college”) Willa, being a worldly sort of a woman…flashed recognition in her eyes and then proceeded to laugh. “Well, there’s that too,” she said. “But here after it rains the mountains are full of wild mushrooms”

Yeup! People here actually go wild mushroom hunting. They not only gather them, they eat them! Can you say, “roulette”? So, one afternoon I scampered off with Willa way off the beaten path to hunt for lobster mushrooms. We filled two grocery bags. Afterwards, she divvied them up. When she handed me my “take”, I declined saying, “You take them. You clean them, you cook them, you eat them. Then, after a couple of days I see that you are o.k. you bring me the leftovers!”

When I got home, I googled: “Wild Lobster Mushrooms” Darned if it wasn’t legit! Not only that, at that time they were retailing for as much as $25 a pound!!!! I was a believer! We went ‘shrooming one more time during the season. And I finally did take some home. But I still didn’t eat them. I fed them to my husband. J

Sniffing Cracks

As if wild mushroom hunting wasn’t enough exercise, Willa suggested that we start walking around campus. So we did. One overcast day on our loop around campus, we cut through the trees (I want to say forest but the locals would think me a city gal). Willa veered off the path, gripped a tree and stuck her nose into one of the cracks. Kid you not! She lifted her head smiling…”Come on, try it. It smells like vanilla or caramel.” Naturally, I was skeptical, thinking it was joke on the new girl. (I am sure this must be associated with some childhood playground trauma). She persisted. Janet who was also walking with us didn’t say anything. Not knowing what to make of it, but feeling that perhaps I could trust Willa, I gripped the tree and stuck my nose in as she had done. Darned if she wasn’t right AGAIN! The tree smelled like sweet candy of vanilla or butterscotch! Amazing! A few days later, I could be heard telling Ifa while she was playing in the back yard…”Ifa, grip its sides and sniff its crack” I can just imagine what the neighbors thought!

His and Her Chainsaws

I still haven’t worked this one out. I stopped by Willa’s office one day and in the midst of the conversation she broke out with a chainsaw jingle:

You’re in luck when you’ve got a McCulloch Chain saw
You’ve got power by the hour in your hand
With McCulloch you’re the master
‘cause you keep on cutting faster
You’re in luck when you’ve got a McCulloch Chain saw

“Willa, what are you doing?”
“Singing the McCulloch Chain Saw song.” Of course, silly me. It seems that one of Willa’s many talents is chopping wood. She and her husband live on the outskirts of town…I use that term loosely. It’s akin to living on the outskirts of say, El Cajon, Alpine, Yuma…that sort of thing. You get the picture. As part of their dedication to um hard work? No, I’m thinking it’s responsible living both environmentally and financially. You see, their entire house is heated by wood burning stoves. Apparently, wood burning stoves instead of heaters or radiators is not uncommon in this neck of the woods. Anyway, while they were chopping wood, Dwayne noticed that his chainsaw was slipping. Being the gracious soul that she is, Willa offered him hers. The following work day they took Dwayne’s chainsaw to the ummm mechanic? The ”mechanic” broke it to them gently that Dwayne’s chainsaw had seen better days. Time to start thinking about a new one. The day I stopped by was the day that Dwayne was going to pick up his brand spanking new chainsaw. Yipee! To date Willa and Dwayne have enough wood stored up to serve them for this winter and next.
So, all of you Californians who are gearing up for a major catastrophe, if it hits—naturally, I pray it doesn’t—and you can get out, you might want to find your way to Flagstaff. It seems the living is still relatively easy and the hills are alive with plenty!