Coffee Grounds Me. Pun intended.
A trip to Spring Training doesn't go as planned.
What I’m drinking on the road: Pre-ground French press Lofty Coffee Morning Dove Blend: Peru (Cusco) + Honduras (Santa Barbara).
Lofty’s Tasting notes: Caramel, Sweet Citrus, Cocoa
The coffee was already ground in the filter, with a measured amount of water (1:16g) in the tank when I woke up. I hate doing it, but giving myself the extra few moments tucked away under the covers before an early morning drive makes it worth it. All I have to do is hit the button on the coffee maker* and go brush my teeth.
I’ve been looking forward to this morning for a long time. I love baseball. Going to spring training has been on my to-do list after Covid,** but it is a six-hour drive to Phoenix. I need coffee.
I don’t need it for the caffeine. I (weirdly) don’t feel the impacts unless I over-imbibe. I need it to ground me in the idea that the day has started. A cup of hot coffee is a marker that my brain needs to start working, and my body should start moving. I’ve left the land of dreams for the real.
It is dark when we leave. There is black coffee in a mug for me and coffee with a healthy splash of sugar-free alt-dairy sweetener in a tumbler for my wife. The roads are clear and it isn’t until the sky has begun to lighten and we’re climbing towards Sunset Highway east of San Diego before our expectations for the weekend take a hit.
First, it mists. Then it snows. We pass up and over several peaks. Up and over. Then up and over again through the Cleveland National Forest. On the downside the snow turns to spittle from above as we approach the Arizona State Line. Gloom hangs in the clouds and sheets of rain fall along the ranges around us.
Six hours in the car gets us to the stadium, American Family Fields of Phoenix. It’s the spring home of our team, the Milwaukee Brewers. Briefly, the rains have calmed. There are patches of blue sky teasing us, but the weather report doesn’t look good and the coffee shop we visit is closed.
It is $10 for parking and $40 for a round of beers. As I swipe my credit card, the wind whips through and the skies open up. Seconds later, the game is officially canceled. We drink beer in the rain, blow our food budget in the team store, and commiserate with other baseball fans.
Fast forward.
We planned on camping, but the storm…the storm blew those plans out of the desert, literally. There was wind and rain and hail, and we didn’t deal with any of it after cashing in some hotel points for room at the Holiday Inn.
This morning, Saturday is already lovely. I dig through our camp bins in the card. Am I the kind of guy to brew a pot of French press in his hotel room? Yes. Yes, I am. I’m “that guy,” or so it seems, when I ask the staff in the restaurant for access to their hot water tower. I had measured the grounds into the pot (46 of ‘em), but I gave up control when I gave the pot to the waitstaff to fill.
Despite my impreciseness, the coffee is quite lovely. I take it with me on a walk over the Agua Fria River (which has no water but a thriving little forest in the riverbed). The coffee is rich and chocolatey and goes perfectly with the warm cool of a damp spring morning. Grackles chitter and hop around as I meander past the strip malls and condo complexes. I’m feeling good.
Fast forward.
Home runs! Blue sky! Grass seats! Bratwurst! Tall boys! Sausage Race! Brewers win!
Fast forward.
The clouds hang, suspended and motionless as if waiting for the shutter of the camera to click before moving on. The sun is coming up on the far side of the saguaros standing tall and sporadic throughout the desert landscape that leads up to the White Tank Mountains.
It is quiet—at least human quiet—at this regional park*** on the edge of Maricopa County. Nature has been putting on a symphony. Cactus wrens, road runners, and thrashers twitter and call as they flit or hop between the greenery. Not long after the coyotes finished their howls at the setting moon, an owl served as my alarm clark.
I’m always the first to wake up. Coffee is my responsibility. I fill up the tall Stanley pot with filter water (brought for this purpose). I light a match and turn the knob on the Coleman camp stove. The ignitor button has been broken for a long time. The water warms slowly.
While I wait, I measure 50 grams of coarsely ground coffee into the pot. I’m a big believer in simplicity at camp. I tend to brew French press coffee on the road. V60s and Kalitas and homemade pourover drippers are my at-home experiments. Then the bubbles and steam and half-hearted whistle arrive almost simultaneously.
“What do you taste?” I ask. My wife hates it when I do that, but today, she has an answer.
“Citrus, like a lemon bite and chocolate.”
“You nailed it,” I reply.
I sit in my chair, looking out at the mountains, enjoying the sunshine, and letting the steam push up into my beard. Coffee grounds me. This time, pun, not intended. It is a daily meditation that kickstarts me into the day. Which is important. I need to be ready. Opening Day is only weeks away and the team needs me to be ready.
*****
*We’ve reviewed the Simply Good Coffee Brewer in the past. If you buy one with our code, we get a little somethin' in return from Simply Good.
Clicking the link below will redirect you to the product specs, and if you end up purchasing one, it will support Roast! West Coast:
**I realize Covid isn’t over or ended, but I’ve come to a balance between safety and experience. Getting the vaccine when available has done a lot to ease my concerns, as well as four (four!) years of collective learning about the virus. My understanding is that outdoor events are likely to offer a safer experience, and baseball is the ultimate outdoor experience.
***We visited the Willow Campground at the White Tank Mountains regional park in Maricopa County (Waddell, AZ). It was a beautiful park and camp. It gets 5 hatchets (out of 5) from me. I’ll be reviewing the camp on TheDyrt.com.
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