The chaps at JJ's

No dancing on the bar in spurs !!

So if you find yourself South East of San Antonio ( of Alamo fame ) in Braunig Lake and you are looking for a place to " wet your whistle ", be warned. The first place you will be sent to ( doncha just love I-phones ? ) is called Flying Tigers, unless you have a fetish for t.v's, give this place a miss. Too many flat screens and not enough atmosphere.Don't lose hope, the next place is called J,J's. Its in a neighbourhood called Bergsmill, just one block south of Military Drive.
Don't let the drab fascade fool you.We pulled into the carpark and gave it the once over. " This'll do said Annette. Oh and it was SuperBowl Sunday so the place was very  busy.Walked in and got served straight away by the " one and only" Joe. He is the man that keeps the beers flowing.Looking around,the decor was nothing special but the atmosphere was welcoming.We decided to stay and have another beer.I needed the restroom and asked where it was " outback " , said Joe smiling. This is when the fun began.
I went " outback " and all the locals were out enjoying the sun and cooking food. The laughter and talk where flowing.I asked a guy the way to the toilet and he pointed me in the right direction.When I come out, the same fella asked me where I was from. Not in a hostile way but in a " where is that accent from ? " way.I told him Liverpool, England and that was it. Next minute I am being invited to eat chicken, pig and rabbit , all cooked outside by the chaps.The rabbit used to reside in the back until that afternoon.Now it was one of the main dishes of the afternoon.I might add that Maria made the Guacamole and it was " too die for " , better than any store bought stuff and a perfect accompaniment to the meats on offer.A few more beers and next minute the banter and laughter is getting louder.Loads of handshakes and hello's, but no names, I could have been back at home. This was like an evening in the infamous " Pepper's ". The Wolf was convinced I wasn't English and said he was waiting for me to " drop my accent ".Then Annette got invited outside to enjoy the food.
I went back inside to find I had already been bought a beer from someone I didn't know. Then Dora came over and said hello, she and her Husband were there for the SuperBowl.Thanks Dora for the cab number,as efficient as you said they would be. We were made to feel so welcome here. I could have been back in Liverpool.But with the added pleasure of fresh cooked food.
Perhaps its previous experiences but the chaps were still suspicious of me and wouldn't give me their names for this blog.The Wolf asked me if I was wearing a wire and never needing an excuse to take my clothes off in a bar , I put him at ease by showing him there was no wire.Then I suggested we take a group picture for the blog. That suggestion was about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit.So I carried on drinking the cold ones and eating the great food. Once again big thanks to Maria who made the mean gaucamole that accompanied the meat.
One of the guys said he pulled in behind us in the car park , when  we arrived and wondered if we were lost. He was surprised when we stayed to drink.You can't beat a good bar and when you are greeted with a sign that declares " no dancing on the tables in spurs " , you know you are in for a good time.As in Willcox, the folks here were proud of their neighbourhood and told us all about its history. We couldn't have got a better welcome.The beer, laughter and banter flowed.So if you find yourself in the area,check this bar out.With luck, there may be some cooking going on out the back. Joe will show you the way.Just don't wear a wire cos it might get embarrassing when the hugs start.
Much thanks to everyone who made our afternoon such a good time.
Thanks to the Wolfman and " Tommy " for sharing a smoke with me, you had to be there.

GERONIMO!!!!!!!

Geronimo!!!!!

Heading east on I-10 we saw the billboard, wine tasting in Willcox! Not being ones to want to pass up the opportunity for grape fuel, we stopped. Willcox, Arizona is where Geronimo and Cochise had it off with the settlers and the cavalry. It also happens to be home to two good bars, a great little RV park,  awesome pies, and some really nice people.

This is a small town hit hard by the economy and the decision by some heartless bastards to move the freeway outside of the town. We pulled up to the Fort Willcox RV park with the intention of spending one night and going on the wine tasting tour. We figured it would be $7 well spent! We “ homesteaded” and headed to town to check things out.

The part of town we were in was furthest from the new freeway, but also housed the Historic Old Town from the days when the railroad was the life blood of the town. A stop by the Rex Allen Museum fueled our first love for this town. The Arizona Cowboy was born here, and this town loves him! We tried to go to the very first store in Arizona, The Co-op Mercantile. Sadly it was closed. No bother, we headed to the Palace Saloon, a saloon that had been open and in the same building since 1903. Closed. Well, off to the wine tasting tour next door; only opened on Thursday – Sunday. These were all in Historic Old Town! We were saddened by this, but managed to find Rix’s Bar to drown our sorrows. 

A couple of beers at Rix’s hit the spot, and the bartender told us to come back later and you can cook your own steak on the grill in the restaurant section in the back. Since we had our dinner plans already in the Flying Pig, we didn’t make it back. On the way back to the homestead, we saw it. Cattle Rest Bar. A nice walking distance from our home at .7 miles, so we gave it a tip of the hat and a wink as we passed by, promising to return.

Back at Fort Wilcox RV Park, Barbara, the owner, made sure that we knew that she had homemade pies to sell and free coffee and waffles in the morning. Himself couldn’t resist the thought of a rhubarb pie like mom used to make on a Sunday, so we bought one. We asked what a Shoofly Pie was, and although it wasn’t in the current selection of available pies, Barbara told us it was a crumble pie made with molasses.  Himself  gave her the big puppy dog eyes, and it was quickly on the schedule of pies available for the following day.

The following morning involved the decision to stay another night in order to see the area attractions, and to keep our promise to the Cattle Rest Bar. We headed west again in the teeny tiny car to visit the Amerind Foundation’s museum of American Indian artifacts and the Thing! Museum, both of them well worth a visit. We also found out that Wyatt Earp’s brother Warren was shot in Willcox by the local sheriff. That afternoon, we walked down to the Cattle Rest, and here we met Miss Red, her brother Robert, son Tim, Gloria, and Pete, all being entertained and served as only a good bartender can by Sue and Jeannie.  

Miss Red had lived in Willcox many of her 81 years, and Robert and Tim were visiting her. Miss Red moved closer to the others when we came in to give us room at the bar. We bought her a drink for this, which started a downhill spiral of drink buying with all of us. Although everyone “needed to go soon”,  we all continually had a drink token in front of our glass that no one was willing to leave behind! We also met La and Diana who had just finished a Tai-Chi class, and Millie who was a care giver and had just had a shit day, thus an after work beer. La was from Willcox originally and had lived or visited places all over the world, but in her words, “something always draws me back here.”

Needless to say we had a great time with everyone. Each had a passion for Willcox that was contagious. Robert was an RVer himself, and gave us lots of good information regarding our route to Houston, from RV Parks to great Mexican food. Miss Red is a legend, a real beauty whose flaming red hair in her youth had earned her the name.

Our one night in Willcox for a wine tasting tour turned into three nights, with no wine but a greater appreciation for small town America. If the rest of America promoted this country the way that the Willcox residents promoted their small town and showed the passion that they all did, from the museum manager to Miss Red, all of our problems would be over. We left with a tip of the hat, a wink, and a promise to return.