Two Seismic Events In One Week Puts Life Into Perspective

It was fall of 1999 and I was in the middle of a nifty consulting gig with the Angus Reid Group - the top polling and consumer research company in Canada run by the man of the same name. The fact that the company had a 'golfing culture' made my assignment even more pleasant. Many an important board meeting was held on the golf course, usually at Marine Drive in Vancouver, where Angus was a member.

Part Irish, part Scottish, playing with Angus was always an adventure, wondering which of his two cultural personalities was going to show up on the first tee. If it was the Irish Angus, you could count on five hours of loud stories and a few cigars - a round with the Scottish Angus would be an entirely different matter.

In any event, about a week before I was to head due south I received word that I was 'expected' to attend the company's 20th Anniversary black tie event being held in Winnipeg, just two days before my holidays. Why did I just know there would be no direct flights from Winnipeg to Cabo? What I didn't know was that this would be a golf trip I would never be able to forget.

Ginny Harrison, my trusty travel agent from www.justpack.com and a good golfing buddy, did what she could to empathize as I spilled my guts over the phone. Letting me down gently, even to the point of pretending to tap on the keys of her computer when I asked for the most direct flight, Ginny waited what seem like the appropriate amount of time, as though reading through a long list of options, before finally asking ... "Steve, have you ever been to Minneapolis"?

I had a great time at the company affair in Winnipeg - getting full value for my tux rental by staying up until room service came online at 6AM -- my flight was at 8:30 - and convincing my hotel roommate to return the tux to Vancouver.

Having traveled a fair bit I've learned a few tricks in my time, such as when you have a split trip like this -- half business, half vacation -- travel with a bare-essentials overnight bag and send your second bag and golf clubs directly to Cabo via FedEx and pick them up on the way through. So a quick change into my jeans and I was on my way to the airport with nothing more than a small bag with my shaving kit and a passport. Cabo, here we come (via stopovers in Minneapolis and Los Angeles).

The stop over in Minneapolis was uneventful other than a brief skirmish with a Northwest Airlines agent who tried to stop me from using the First Class lounge because it's reserved for international passengers only. Although I was booked in first from Winnipeg through to LA you can imagine how foolish I felt when I was told that Canada is not an international destination, according to Northwest Airlines. What did they know that I didn't? Made me wonder if Mulroney had signed over the country to Reagan during one of those sessions they were drinking Bushmills and singing Irish Eyes.

Five hours later I was checked into the Marriott at the LAX airport. After a beer and a roast beef sandwich from room service and I was out like a light, making up for no sleep the night before - not exactly the most exciting way to spend a Friday night in LA, but definitely smarter.

I'm a notoriously light sleeper, and am usually wide-awake the minute my eyes open. So when I first felt the stirring of the earth I was unusually way down deep and it registered to me more as a dream event than the real event that it was. My 7.1 wake up call was coming from 70 miles down the road near a little town in the desert called Joshua Tree.

Now I've been present during several earthquakes, most in the 2.0 to 5 range, where the chandeliers swing to and fro and little clouds of dust squeeze out of inaccessible places in the rafters. This one was different and here's why.

In the 1930's, C.F. Richter devised a way to measure the magnitude of an earthquake. Geologists had discovered that the energy released in an earthquake goes up with magnitude faster than the ground speed by a factor of 32. If you do the calculations, you'll see that an earthquake reading magnitude 7 on the Richter scale has 32 times more energy than a magnitude 6 and almost 1,000 times more energy than a magnitude 5 earthquake!

Stumbling out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom doorway and braced myself. I remember reading somewhere that the bathroom is one of the strongest parts of a structure, although that's little comfort when a building is vibrating. The Marriott at LAX is an older concrete slab floor building and my room was right in the middle on the 8th floor. Convinced this quake was going to take the building down, I listened over the rumbling for the sound of the floors above me collapsing, one into the other, until it became flat as the proverbial pancake.

It didn't, and in the aftermath I sat glued to CNN to learn Amtrak trains had derailed, roads buckled, and buildings swayed as far away as Phoenix.

It sometimes takes a good earthquake to shake you up and make you appreciate your mortality. For me, it made the rest of the trip even more enjoyable as I savoured every moment of being alive.

By noon I was at the pool of my Cabo condo, with a bottle of Pacifico telling stories about my adventure to anyone who would listen and still secretly reflecting on how much we take life for granted. Golf is Zen for me and being able to spend the next week worshipping at this shrine suited my headspace just fine as I continued my introspection.

I have been coming to Mexico for more than 30 years and have played most courses on the west side from San Carlos all the way up at the eastern tip of the Sea of Cortez and down to Ixtapa. While the terrain can vary a lot from one end of the country to the other, golf on the mainland is pretty much humid and tropical. And then there is Cabo. It's dry. It can be 100 degrees Fahrenheit and you don't sweat. Yet the courses on the southern Baja peninsula are lush, largely irrigated with grey water from the many adjacent hotels. Cabo offers the best of both worlds.

While there are several courses to choose from, don't expect to find many deals, even though the hotels will offer you discounts. 'Stay and play' packages, like those experienced in Phoenix or the Okanagan, just don't exist in Cabo. When they say 'stay and play' in Cabo, they mean 'buy a time share to stay in' and then you can play. You can get a free green fee in return for a time share pitch, but frankly it's not worth it.

If it's a deal you want, go the Raven, located on the outskirts of Cabo San Lucas or the municipal course near the airport in San Jose. As for the others, get out the Master Card and expect to pay anywhere from $130 to $300 in high season. Prices are driven by the wealthy corporate tourists from Silicon Valley and LA who think nothing of coming down for 3 or 4 days and dropping mucho dollars on a golf outing. A handy website list of the courses in the area can be found at http://www.cabogolf.com.

As I said earlier, my favourite course is Cabo Real, an older resort style Robert Trent course that has tons of variety. For me, it's all about the first hole and how the course presents itself. If it's welcoming, like the first holes at Shaughnessy or Semi-ah-moo, I'm a push over, and that's just what Cabo Real is all about -- wide open and down hill, with an elevated tee and a drop dead gorgeous view of the ocean behind the hole.

When I first started playing this course back in 1986, (before the dot com boom) I would come out around 8 in the morning, grab a cart and hit balls for 2 hours, play a morning round, have a torta sandwich decked with jalapenos and a couple of beers at the outside bar and then head back out for another round in the afternoon - all for about 60 bucks plus tips. Not any more. Today, green fees at Cabo Real go from $180 to $280US based on time of year, and are similar to those at Palmilla, Cabo del Sol and the others.

One course worth at least a visit is the Jack Nicklaus designed El Dorado, that hugs the Sea of Cortez shoreline and works itself around four man-made lakes - a real test of golf, especially when the wind is up. However, when I was there last September it appeared under some kind of renovation and I was told it was going private? If that's true it's a real loss to the tourist golfer.

There's lots to do on the Cape, although the legendary nightlife, courtesy of Sammy Hagar and the Jiggling Marlin, has grown tame as the baby boomers get older and the younger kids spend more money at the local dive shops than the local bars. Frankly, when you're staying at one of the major resort hotels lining the Trans-peninsular Highway from San Jose to Cabo San Lucas there really is no need to go much beyond the property. They have the best restaurants, pools and amenities and when combined with a golf game every day what more do you want?

The week slid by quickly, with golf just about every day except one, when my friend John and I did some Dorado fishing up north and we came back with my first Marlin instead. (But, that's another story though).

I hate early flights as they screw up the whole day, preferring instead to take a later flight and squeeze in a morning round before heading to the airport and overnight again in LA. If you're a fan of 'plane spotting' the Cabo airport has an executive jet park second only to the south of France with Gulfstream G-5's lined up like shopping carts.

I decided to change hotels in LA and checked into the Crown Plaza, a newer but soul-less corporate hotel near the Marriott. Room service and to bed was the routine. Next morning I was at the airport by 9 for an 11AM flight. I prowled around looking for a gift for my daughter and then settled into a seat in front of a CNN monitor. That's when I first heard the news about Payne Stewart's ill-fated flight.

The hours that followed were surreal. Here was a huge story unfolding and there was nothing to focus on. No video of exploding buildings, helicopter shots of a car speeding through city streets, crying victims of violence - just hour after hour of a camera pointed at a talking head quietly repeating there were unconfirmed reports that an executive jet carrying golfer Payne Stewart, the reigning U.S. Open champion, the toast of golf, had ceased communication with ground control and appeared headed toward the American mid-west. Occasionally there would be a cut away to a picture of a similar type of jet, or a head shot of Payne, but overall, there was none of the usual ambulance chasing that I've come to expect from the television media.

Instead there was a feeling of respect and deference I would normally associate with something like the passing of a Pope. The media seemed outside the story with the rest of us, not just because it was happening at 60,000 feet and 450 miles an hour, but perhaps because of golf, and the people who play it. The story was commanding a certain level of respect for this champion so many adored.

Golf is a game that reveals character and quickly dispatches those who dishonour the game. Golf is about dignity and respect for the game, your opponent and of yourself. It is a game that insists upon honesty and integrity and when you are a champion of the sport, as Payne Stewart certainly was, the world comes to a standstill when one of its heroes is in trouble.

In his early years Payne had his weaker moments but he played through them to become a champion both on and off the course. In his later years, as a devotee of deep inner faith, he gave endlessly as a father, a husband and a good friend. But perhaps in his leaving us the way he did gave the game that he loved one of the greatest gifts of all - enduring respect.

I missed my flight that morning as I'm sure many did around the world choosing instead to be a part of an important piece of time, and whether they be golfers or not, they will remember where they were on that Monday in October.

For me it was a reminder to take every day as it comes and to appreciate even more my previous week in one of the world's most beautiful destinations.