A Trying Day at the Santa Cruz County Fair

After 11 years of happy summers living at South Lake Tahoe, Doug was unable to adapt to the 6,200 foot elevation this Spring, and couldn't catch his breath. He was like a fish out of water. After being urged by his doctor to "Get off the mountain!", we chose to try locations at sea level. We rented in Santa Cruz last month, and in Capitola California this month of September. Through Airbnb, we found places to stay to test out the different areas, but iving out of suitcases for quite some time has taken a bit of a toll on me. I love being in Capitola though, the little town of my childhood, where my Grandma Diddo, had a cabin. My family and sisters and cousins were allowed to stay there each year for vacations. (Well, my Dad and brothers-in-law were enlisted usually to paint or make repairs...)

Living in the area we're in, just a walk-ride to the Esplanade at Capitola Beach, it's ideal. We've become regulars at the Paradise Beach Grill, and Zelda's at the beach. We can watch the seagulls bathing in the lagoon, flapping their wings and laughing and fighting with each other in front of the idylic Venetian Court properties. The pelicans fly over and dive into the surf for anchovies to entertain us.

From the window of our little cottage, we see joggers, bicyclists, people with strollers, and dog walkers parading by on the street, all heading for a small park that goes along Soquel Creek.

We've found that if we do a walk-ride, (Doug mostly rides on his mobility scooter and I walk), we can go down that path and end up at a little shopping center to have breakfast at Peet's coffee. Today we discovered Gayle's Bakery, which lived up to it's fame.

I could see us going there often, but it wouldn't be good for our constant battle to cut calories.

I've been examining the Santa Cruz County guide to events, and have marked a few down on my calendar. The first is the Santa Cruz County Fair, where I remember that my sister Marilyn used to always win first prize for her apple, and I think, even pecan pies. Yesterday morning I was trying to get Doug up for the idea, since I heard that it was going to be Senior Day, when we could get in for only 10 bucks. I started singing, "Our State Fair is a Great State Fair" from one of my favorite musicals. "Don't miss it! Don't even be late!"

Doug, who hasn't been feeling that great for the last few days, said, "Boy, you're really into this, aren't you? I guess we can go if you really want to..."

"Yes!", I said, "We could have a corn dog, and they even have camel rides!"

"Well, maybe for an hour or so.." he said.

"An hour? We have to see all of the animals, maybe some shows, and I might even go on the ferris wheel. Maybe you could too! Besides, you'll have your scooter to ride around on. It'll be fine!" Then, having second thoughts, I said, "Maybe you should take your vitals." After a good report of his BP, heart rate, and oxygen level, I felt better about urging him to go.

The night before, we made sure to charge up his scooter, but it was really difficult to put the plug in in the right direction. We pulled it up close to the front door, and with an extension cord, I squatted down and used the flashlight on my phone to try to find the sweet spot.

In the morning, I got all dressed up for the fair with a cute tank top on, but Doug kept on putting off when we should leave, asking for a little treat, like some ice cream, or saying, "We'll leave in a few minutes. I'd like to make a couple of phone calls." By 1 pm, he rode his scooter down the rocky path to the street, and we tried to remember how to fold up the little vehicle to lift into the back of the Prius. Proud of our strength and our accomplishment, we drove the 28 minutes to the fair.

They charged us $15 for parking, even though we had handicapped plates, and then we unloaded and put the scooter back together and went through the security screening before we paid. Then Doug noticed that the scooter hadn't been charged properly. He didn't think it would make it much farther. My heart sank. "I think we brought the charger with us. I'll go get it out of the car”, I said. He called after me as I turned to go back, "I didn't see it."

So the charger wasn't in the car. We decided to go on in, at least for a while, since there was no refund anyway. The rides were right inside the gate, but it didn't look like many of them were being used, I guess that's because it's seniors day, and unless they bring their grandchildren with them, the folks with their walkers, canes, and scooters aren't likely to go on the Dumbo ride.

Anyway, I spotted a place selling corn dogs, so that was one thing off of my bucket list. We turned off the scooter's power and sat at a picnic table and dipped our corndogs in mustard while we went over our options. Doug offered to go back to the car and wait for me while I enjoyed the fair by myself. That sounded depressing, and besides, it was too warm in the parking lot. I walked over to the nearby Harvest Building, where crafts, baking and prizewinning vegetables are displayed. There was a restroom inside, which was a bonus, so we agreed that Doug would sit in there at a table and people watch. I was ready to go off for the agreed hour to see what I could see. I told him that I'd take photos of everything interesting. But, uh-oh, "My phone is dead", he said. "Would you leave yours please?" My heart sank a little further, since one of my favorite things to do is to photograph my surroundings. Nevertheless, I forked over my phone, and took off on my excursion by myself.

I headed over to the Fine Arts Building, and remembered how I used to paint. I wondered if I should start again. I have a few friends who are showing their beautiful paintings on Facebook....but no, I should be tending to my writing, jewelery making, pottery and photography. One can only do so much, after all.

I saw a sign pointing to the animal areas, so I headed to where a crowd was cheering, and hiked painfully up a little hill, as my arthritic knee was beginning to hurt. Darn! The pig races had just finished and all of the little pigs had been put away. The crowd dispersed, so I went along a path to discover the camel ride. If Doug had been with me so I could wave at him, or he could take my picture, I may have climbed on board the strangely shaped animal. Right now it just seemed like a lonely thing to do. Years ago at a stop on a cruise, I rode on a camel in Tunisia and have been fascinated ever since. But today wasn't the day for it.

Across the path was the poultry pavilion, and I followed the sounds of roosters crowing. As I examined all of the different breeds: a fluffy one, called a Silkie, and the more usual ones, I thought of our daughter Grace and all the work she has put into her henhouse and her beloved chickens in her backyard in El Cerrito. I reached for my phone in my back pocket to take some photos to show her, but no. I had left it back with Doug. Oh well. The roosters definitely seemed tired of being in their cages, crowing loudly to compete with all of the others. "Sorry guys", I told them. "This is only Wednesday. You've got a few more days left of the fair to go. Just chill."

The ducks were beautiful. I couldn't figure out the judging system though. Blue ribbons were hanging on the cage of what, to my eye, wasn't that spectacular of a specimen. Right next door were two gorgeous mallards. I whispered to them, "Don't worry. I think they were mistaken. You're number one to me." Now I'm talking to animals.

In the next building there was a friendly looking donkey sticking her head out over a sign that said her name was Holly. I let her sniff my hand and then scratched her head and petted her soft muzzle. Then I read the sign more carefully, which said, that Holly was a young pony. The pony was more stand-offish, and was behind the donkey. A couple came over and exclaimed, "Oh look! What a sweet donkey! Hello Holly!" I pointed out that the pony was actually Holly, then shared with the woman a legend that I heard once. "See the dark cross on her back? It's said that it's there because Mary rode on a donkey before she gave birth to Jesus." "Hmm", she said. Well, at least I'm talking to people now.

There was an arena that you could look down on while standing in the shade. A horseman was "cutting" cattle away from the herd and encouraging them into another pen, I heard a cowgirl say to someone else.

I wandered around a bit more and then found a little train that you could ride for free and get a tour of the whole fair. I took the happy, but grizzly-looking engineer up on it, and hopped on. Behind me I could hear a grandma pointing things out to her little granddaughter. I turned around to see a darling 3 year old who was enjoying every bit of the ride. Once, when we were stopped, a man in a costume that made him look like he was riding on a pony (the horse head was in front of him and the behind in back), trotted over to her and said “Hello young lady!” She looked at him in wonder. She probably thought the pony was real.

Pretty soon, the train stopped in front of the Harvest building, so I got off, thanking the lady for sharing her granddaughter with me. Doug was surprised that I was back a few minutes early. He had had a pretty good time watching people, and even took a nice photo of an older woman that had come by on stilts. "She was about 12 feet tall! I wonder how she got up there, and got dressed in all those clothes!", he said.

Wanting to make sure that I had had a full fair experience, he suggested, as we headed for the exit, "Would you like to ride on the ferris wheel, or maybe I can win a stuffed animal for you on a game. How about that?" "No, I'm fine. Let's just go."

"I hope you're not mad at me for ruining your day", he said. "No, let's just blame it on the cart..."

"KInda sounds like a blog to me", he said. "You know you can always use me as the fall guy". Hmm, I thought, and started taking pictures of the rides.