Birthday BBQ in a Western Stage Set

When I mentioned in a recent comment that kitsch made for great photography & interesting posts, here's an example I had in mind, the now renowned Buzzard's Roost, down in Yarnell. Friends Patti and Bob had raved about the BBQ; sometime later my friend sheoflittlebrain determined to treat me to a birthday lunch at Buford's. A couple of months late, but the wait was well worth it.

A large part of the restaurant's land is occupied by the hokey Western set (that's what Mrs. Buford calls it, as in "striking the set" when the lease is up next month.)

There isn't as much room for stage setting inside Buford's, but there are interesting objects, like this range you'd remember if you were anywhere near my age.

Even a couple of namesake buzzards up near the eaves.

And here's my birthday luncheon plate -- beans, gently cooked veggies, and a huge sandwich chockablock full of BBQ-to-die for. No, I didn't eat it all at one sitting; yes, I did have BBQ for supper that night! And, yes, we did have further adventures that day which I'll post at another time. One other important note: the lease for the Buzzard's Roost is up mid-July; the Bufords are actively looking for another location. In Yarnell.

The Shrine of St. Joseph...

To be very honest, in all the 25+ years I've lived in and around Prescott, I never had a yearning to visit the Shrine of St. Joseph of the Mountain down in Yarnell. I presumed that it was a drawing card for the more religious among us, and nothing else. But while we were waiting for the crowds to gather for the big Buzzard's Bash picnic, Patty and Bob suggested that we visit the shrine. I'm so very glad that we did.

As many times as I have motored through Yarnell on SR 89, I never realized just how beautiful it could be back amongst the granites and the live oaks. These woodlands are enchanted!

The story according to this Catholic source: The shrine was built and is maintained by a group of lay men and women from the Phoenix area that promotes St. Joseph as the foster father of Jesus, head of the Holy Family, and patron and role model to the family of today. The original lay group came from various parishes in the area in 1934 and its purpose was to perform spiritual and corporal works of mercy, regardless of race or creed.

The bronze sculpture above is the risen Christ. In the background, friend Patty can be seen, entering the cave...

where a sculpture of the crucified Christ is lying, awaiting the Resurrection.

The sculpture above, of a woman consoling the dying Christ, is one in a series depicting the Passion as one ascends the hill.

I chose the other route up the hillside, past the praying Jesus.

These stairs wound uphill taking the visitor to the 14 stations of the cross.

At each of the crosses, there is a seat among the stones for prayer, contemplation or simply soaking in the scenery.

A plaque on each of the crosses describes the event depicted. And, no, I did not make it all the way to the top; the climb was steep and the old lungs aren't up to it.

A visit to the shrine is worth your time. I'd suggest you wait another three or four weeks, when the scarlet bugler penstemon may have started blooming and, with the rain we've had, possibly the blue delphinium plants as well. For our visit, the manzanita (above) was in bloom and there was a little fruit tree with blossoms; I'd guess that it started from a peach pit a visitor threw away. And to my European visitors: if those blossoms above look familiar, it is because our very southwestern manzanita (little apple) belongs to the heather/erica clan.

When the Buzzards Come Back to Yarnell...

Tain't as euphonious as the words to that song about swallows and Capistrano -- but it's a lot closer to Prescott. Even so, I don't get down to Yarnell much these days. So I jumped at the chance to join Patty and Bob at the annual Buzzard's Bash, a picnic to welcome the vulture flocks back from Mexico. We even saw a couple of the big birds circling as we drove through Peeples Valley. Just FYI, friend Patty had a grandmother who was a mover and shaker in the earlier days of this small Arizona mountain town. That sign above? Her granny!

One local couple who shared our table said that the buzzards had been back from their winter in the south for about two weeks. Apparently two large flocks roost in the Yarnell area. 100 or so.

Not many Prescott people at the festivities. Too bad. I personally think our town is getting full of flatlander-think; too many folks believe leaving town means heading out SR69 through the Prescott Valley traffic snarl to hit I-17 for Phoenix. Maybe that's just as well; the hills and hamlets west and southwest of the city are growing at a far slower pace than the rest of the county.

But then, there wasn't really any publicity locally. I caught an big article in the Yellow Sheet, a new weekly focused on the SR89 corridor from Wickenburg up to Prescott.

By the way, this was absolutely the cheapest good food I've had in a month of Sundays. Only $3.75 for fried chicken, smoked turkey legs, cole slaw, beans, hush puppies and lemonade. Not that I consider hush puppies a western food -- the little fried corn meal and onion balls were a staple in the deep south when I was a kid. Usually you ate them with a paper plate full of locally caught fried shrimp.

The turkey legs were prepped by the Buzzard's Roost, which I am told, does barbecue to die for. But be warned -- the lease for this Yarnell landmark is up either at the end of April or May, so get down there fast.

One musician, Tom Moore (I'm sure about the first name but not the last) up from Wickenburg, made the scene, with good ole boy songs. He kept looking for the fiddle player who never showed while we were there.

In case you were wondering about that drop-off sign, here's the spot. It's about 8 feet straight down to the creek bed. Yarnell is in the midst of some awesome granites.

A tree that probably preceded white man in these parts.

The requisite Tshirt, plus a downhome-produced history of the pretty little one-time mining town (pop. 668 in 2007.) I would have bought, too, except that I only took a single over to the stand to buy a dessert from the bake-sale ladies. What did I pick? An apple flauta. Yum.

See those trees greening up just beyond the park? Buzzards roost there at dusk and sit on near-by boulders to warm up in the sun in the morning. Interesting birds. Quite unattractive if you see them up close, with their bare red heads. And, as carrion eaters, their breath is very bad. But in flight, riding the thermals, these huge birds are beautiful. In the Prescott area, I almost always see the vultures circling out at Granite Basin Lake.