Billy Two Rivers

San Francisco was every bit as enjoyable as when we were last there in 1991 and the first time we visited in 1984. We stayed just off Union Square which meant we were handy for all forms of transport – trams, buses and cable cars as well as Shanks’ pony.

A walk along Market Street to the Ferry Port and up and around to Fisherman’s Wharf passed a couple of hours. We then went up to Lombard Street, down the windy road and all the way across and then up to Telegraph Hill to the top of Coit Tower. A wander down through North Beach (think Little Italy) and on through Chinatown back to Union Square finished the walk and almost finished us. 10 miles in all and an elevation gain equal to K2. Pat wanted a daan tart (Hong Kongers will know what I mean) but the Chinese bakery had sold out when we got there in the late afternoon. Beer had to suffice.

We made our trip to Alcatraz this time. Leaving the city under blue skies and a very comfortable, for May, 23 degrees, we approached the island shrouded in mist, as was the Golden Gate beyond and the white tops were whipped up on the sea. The temperature had dipped to 10 degrees.

On return to the mainland it was once again warm and sunny and the words of the song rang true in our ears…

…The morning fog may chill the air, I don’t care

My love waits there in San Francisco

Above the blue and windy sea

When I come home to you San Francisco

Your Golden sun will shine for me…

After 3 days in San Fran it was time to grab a car and set of on the road trip. First stop was Sequoia National Park and King’s Canyon.

Who remembers World of Sport on ITV with Dickie Davies? It was the rival to the BBC’s Grandstand and showcased, I recall, different sports, foremost amongst them being Wrestling. The commentator was Kent Walton, although I always thought his name was Ken, and it came from such illustrious venues as Islington Town Hall.

This wasn’t WWF, more WTF. Les Kellett was my favourite. He acted soft, took a hammering and eventually stumbled into a move that floored his opponent and won him the bout. Mick McManus was the wrestler everyone hated and there was Jackie Pallo, Giant Haystacks and Shirley Crabtree, who went under the name of Big Daddy.

When we were on a family holiday to Pontins, at Lytham St Anne’s in the mid sixties, we were able to attend a live evening of wrestling. The main attraction was Billy Two Rivers, a native American, who entered the ring in full feathered headdress. Very impressionable on a 9 year old from Liverpool.

I was reminded of this when we stayed in Three Rivers, California, as our base for visiting Sequoia and King’s Canyon National Parks. While I live in Knaresborough, which has one river, the Nidd, have visited Kuala Lumpur, which translates to ‘confluence of two rivers’ and also experienced seeing the wrestling skills of a similarly two river Mohawk, I now had progressed to a triple river township. I pointed this out to our Airbnb host, who immediately corrected me to say that actually Three Rivers has five!

Our second week away saw us moving from Sequoia National Park to Death Valley. Quite a contrast, not only in appearance, from forest to desert, but also in temperature. In King’s Canyon, at a height of some 7,000 – 8,000 feet the maximum daytime temperature on the day of our visit was -3C, while arriving in Death Valley saw the temperature at 28C. By the end of the week we were moving to Las Vegas which the TV weatherman said was anticipating its “First 3 digit” temperature of the year, fully two weeks ahead of the average starting date. I imagine Paul the Weatherman on Look North having an average starting date in the year for the gauge to hit double figures let alone 100F.

There is little accommodation to choose from near the valley. we opted some time ago for the Longstreet Inn & Casino, just on the Nevada side of the State Line from California. An odd place to say the least, it stands like a ship in the desert.