Saturday, May 14, 2022 (Court Day #495)

When I left Yreka at 8:20 a.m., my parents were still asleep. I told them last night that I’d probably be back around 12:30 p.m. (Unless they got desperate and called a taxi, they’d be stranded at the motel until I returned with their car.)

Along the way, Mount Shasta.

I arrived at the Mount Shasta Resort about a little over a half an hour later. It was an easy and scenic drive.

I made the left turn into the facility and saw courts immediately on the right. When I pulled up there were two men inside the gate talking to each other. I walked up to the chain link fence and called over, “This looks like the right place for pickleball.” One man smiled, and he said, “Yes. There will be more people showing up a little closer to 9 a.m.” I gave him a positive affirmation and he went back to their interrupted conversation. I put on some sunscreen—using the window of my parents’ car as a mirror—and took off my sweatshirt since it was already about 60° and mostly sunny. The temperature prediction back in Yreka had called for a high of 74° today. I imagined that here would be similar.

Andrea getting ready to hang her bag on the fence.

Nearest the road is a tennis court with some pickleball striping, but to its right are four permanent courts. I only played on three of the four. One was perfect. Two had significant patched cracks that would occasionally change the bounce/direction of the ball. (I lost a rally once when the ball bounced in a wacky fashion.) I was told that the fourth court—that I didn’t play on—also had some issues. But I’ve played on worse…and I appreciate being able to see the lines on the court!

Ken, the USA Pickleball ambassador for this area, didn’t come today. Ken had said yesterday morning via text that the skill level of play at Mount Shasta is higher than that of Montague. He also said only a few players would be away at the tournament that was mentioned on Thursday night in Yreka. The harder the play, the better, as far as I’m concerned.

Warming Up

When I walked back over to the courts from getting ready, the two gentlemen, Steve and Mike, were warming up with each other. I asked if I could join them and they responded with an “absolutely”. So I jumped in. When Steve asked how many players we typically get down in Santa Cruz, I said 35 on a slow day and 50 on a busy one. (My reference is Sundays, of course, my day of site coordinator duties.) He said they get around 25. (There were about 20 there today.) I mentioned I’d heard there was a tournament going on and Steve replied that it is in Chico about 2 1/2 hours south.

A woman who goes by “Doc” appeared and warmed up with us too and after a few minutes we started a game. These three are all 3.0 skill players, but made a game of it even though rallies were short. Pickleball is always fun.

About 3/4 through our game, Doc said that she wasn’t feeling very well and stepped out of the game and a different woman stepped in to finish the game in her place—Debbie, maybe? I can’t recall.

The effects of the elevation are interesting; we are at 3,500 feet and the air is a little thinner and I get winded a little easier. Santa Cruz, being a beach town, is sea level with lots of oxygen! The flight of the ball may be slightly different too with a little less resistance.

Richard (left) and Mike at the pretty paddle rack.

I like their ”Mt. Shasta Pickleball Club Lending Library” which houses several wooden paddles, balls, and a handful of pickleball books. I like the idea, however I think in Santa Cruz everything inside that box have long gone in very short order, never to be seen again!

Pickleball Lending Library
The contents of the library.

I played in a game against a woman who had only been playing a couple months. For the following game, I picked her as my partner. When we won the game—it was close—she had a big smile on her face and said she believed that this was the first game she’d ever won! Fun to be part of that!

Yreka Travelers

There was another player down from Yreka—besides me—by the name of Pete. He also wanted better play. Pete is about my height but with a fit, stocky build. Pete raises labrador dogs for a living these days. He said he used to occasionally come down to Mount Hermon in Scotts Valley (down in my home county) for meetings for his previous job at a camp much more north.

There was a tall young guy, Bryce. Bryce is built like a linebacker. Bryce and I played his first game of the day against Pete and Mike. Pete can be his own worst enemy, he drives most shots and about as many end up in the net as are clear winners. Pete and Mike were sending balls more frequently to Bryce than to me. Bryce and I did win, though we had to come back to do it.

Later, when Pete and I were about to play Bryce and Mike, I kidded, “Ok, Pete. Every time you drive a ball into the net, you owe me a dollar!”
“I don’t know about that!”
Not long after, I failed to get the ball over the net twice in a row. “I owe you two bucks, Pete!”

PVC pipe court dividers. Bonnie on the right.

I played later on with Pete against Bryce and Audra. Bryce said Audra was getting back into playing after not playing for a year. Pete and I were leading 9-2 when we got a little bit lazy and let them a little bit back into the game, though it was never in doubt. We still won 11-4. After the first couple of points, I played that game lefthanded. I was pretty hot and thirsty by then . . . saving what little water I had left for when I was desperate. (I didn’t bring enough water. I only filled up my water bottle about halfway, which was a big mistake.) The drinking fountain wasn’t working. I’d overhead something about damage caused by the pipes freezing. I explained to a local that frozen pipes would never happen back home in Santa Cruz!

I really like the PVC pipe ball dispensers that they made at this club.

Open top, PVC pipe ball dispenser. Clever.

The weather felt pretty darn warm, but was only in the low 70s. There was a slight breeze but it was not enough to cool you down. I felt hot and was sweating.

Last game of the day was me playing with Bonnie against a left-handed player named Richard (her husband) and Steve—both who I played with earlier in the day. It was a back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth game which we eventually 13 -11. At that point, everyone else was long gone with the exception of two guys watching who never played a game—I saw one hitting a ball at the net earlier, just him and a player, but that was it, no games.

The two unknown watchers plus Bonnie and her husband Richard.

Everyone that I met today were pleasant. Overall, it was a very fun day and worth the hour of travel time to and from Yreka. There weren’t any players there who were particularly formidable, per se. Matt and Paul from Scotts Valley, for instance, would easily be top players compared to those whom I played with today. Still, for as isolated as the locals are here, they did well. And I was far from perfect, hitting a handful of shots today into the white net tape.

I only played one game with her—small sample size!—but if I had to pick the best player there today I might pick Wendy. Though Mike is a strong 3.0 player. Of course, the very best players were skimmed off and at the Chico tournament, unfortunately.

The view of Mount Shasta from the town of Mount Shasta.

Back to Yreka

I was a bit stressed. My dad expressed mild annoyance when I said I’d be taking the car all morning. The last game took a while, so when I left the resort at 12:10, that assured that I wouldn’t be back by 12:30 as planned. When I did get back to the motel at 12:50, my folks were happily watching an old 1960s black and white comedy film. I almost had to pry my dad away to get lunch! I shouldn’t have stressed!

Stagnation?

Occasionally, I wonder if I’m better than I was before I got super bad tennis elbow—three years ago now. Playing lefty for over two years stagnated my development. There were three instances came to mind today of where I’ve gotten better. One was a reset off a slam where I returned the ball about a foot over the net. Another was a backhand volley at the net where I brushed the ball with topspin and dropped the ball outside Steve’s left foot for a winner. Another was a volley battle at the net during the last game where Steve hit the ball hard to my feet, but I was able to dig the shot and get the ball back over in a fairly controlled fashion…this in and of itself is not a new thing, but I’m getting more consistent and reliable with these.


Monday, May 16, 2022 (No Play)

Here is an interesting very brief video on block volleys.


Number of days on a court: 495
Number of total hours: 2,317.5

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.