Five Great Nights (and the Day After)

Work hard, play hard. When I’m at work, I work. When I play, I love taking boys’ trips. Maybe it’s a weekend baseball series, fly fishing, the French Quarter — it’s all good. And of course, each morning after, there’s always a need for my coffee.

So here are my top five memories:

New Orleans: A group of us flew in for a weekend, got a hotel, took streetcars and walked around town. We bar-hopped all over town and ate some ridiculously good food. I don’t count calories, but I’m pretty sure I added to the beer gut that night. Ended up at Tipitina’s at a very late hour. Needless to say, the next day I needed a jump-start, and so we walked down to Café Du Monde for a few cups of chicory coffee and beignets.

Colorado: We drove into the San Juan Mountains outside Pagosa Springs and set up camp for the weekend. We stayed up late around the campfire, picking our streams and spots before laying down to dream about catching trout on the Piedra River. We woke up at 0-dark-hundred, groggy, and brewed a pot of coffee on the open fire. The first day was great, but the second was legendary, hooking huge rainbows and browns along the East Fork of the San Juan River.

Chicago: We visited the best ballpark in America and caught a weekend series: Cubs vs. Giants at Wrigley. Friday, Saturday and Sunday — in the relatively cheap seats out in the bleachers — getting fried by the sun while cooling down with a few dozen Old Styles each day. The next mornings — all three of them — required deep caffeinating, so we enjoyed the comforts of Emerald City Coffee in Wrigleyville.

Gulf Shores: If you’ve never been to Gulf Shores, Alabama, you’re missing a treat. From hanging out at the Flora-Bama bar to the Interstate Mullet Toss to chillin’ on the beach, it’s a killer beach trip. For me, I need some iced coffee at the beach — I like two in the morning and one in the late afternoon. And there’s this little gas station along Perdido Beach Blvd. that I typically find myself at; I get a hot cup a black coffee, then pour it over a 32 oz. styrofoam cup filled with ice.

Richmond: I was in Richmond working, about to head home for Thanksgiving, and some buddies stopped by. We made our way into a few bars, and I ended up somehow sleeping in an overcoat on a bunk bed. The next day I felt horrible, but the only thing that saved me was my first cup of coffee ever from a 7-Eleven — heavily creamed and sugared up — that I drank while sitting in the back of my buddy’s Chevy Nova, simply trying to get the train on the rails again.

Many mornings a whiff of good coffee will take me back to some good times.