"I can’t tell you how many times people have come up and said 'I know you are not used to this redneck stuff' and I would calmly reply 'this is my family; of course I am used to it and I love it!'” This quote is from Lisa Lopez-Fund, my first cousin, and metropolitan denizen, having lived in NYC, LA, Hawaii and now, for the second time, Atlanta, a burgeoning southern metropolis unlike Phoenix only in terms of humidity.
The occasion of the remarks were my niece Trina’s white-linen, twinkly light, elegant wedding. The red neck part? The wedding was at the site of the annual megalopolis of sorts formed by the campers accompanying the elk hunters lucky enough to get drawn for the forest area outside of Williams, Arizona.
The “camp” is formed around an enormous fire pit, stoked by mountain-sized piles of wood gathered from the environs by those who choose to go up a couple of weekends in advance to prepare. Seventy or eighty people then pull in, dragging or driving RV’s and campers of every sort. Smaller four wheel vehicles ranging from Polaris open-air “sedans” to miniature ATV’s for the three-year-old set get parked in a tented garage erected to accommodate the need. Tents form dining halls and storage areas. “Furniture” is chain sawed from giant logs for reclining in between treks after the big game. At night the camp rivals any city; it is fully lit and can probably be seen from the space station. All of this magic is powered by portable generators. If there is ever a nuclear holocaust, these are the people you want to be hanging with.
Trina, the bride, is known for being one of the few success stories in terms of bagging the prey on these steroidal hunting trips. No doubt her secret to success is that she looks so damn good in the lavender camouflage she so casually pulls over her perfectly coiffed and manicured self each morning as she rises in the dark to make the pre-breakfast trek. I can envision her sitting out on a bluff watching the sun rise and planning her dream wedding like any beautiful young woman. Fortunately, she met the groom on one of these very trips; their Dads being hunting buddies; one from Prescott and the other from Yuma.
Well, Trina’s dreams came to life last weekend when she pulled off a major coups by staging an elegant (“not hick” she so stoically submitted each time the subject came up) wedding at that very spot. And I must say, it was one of the most entertaining weddings I have ever been to and that is saying a lot coming from me. Lucky for her she has her grandmother Jacquie’s genes and is a highly organized and capable individual. Not unlike Clint Eastwood, she not only directed the entire operation, she (and Brandon, the groom, who is no slouch himself when it comes to organization, skill and capability) was the star of the show.
Nearly 300 people attended, most in RV’s, but some stayed in the town 6 miles south at more traditional accommodations. Everything went off smoothly from the rehearsal and dinner right through to 24 hours later when the real event took place. And every detail was nailed down tight, so to speak.
There were separate tents for the food, the 13 cakes (with baby pictures of the happy couple sprinkled throughout), the beverages including the beer kegs, margarita machines and lemonade/coffee/tea service, the gifts and guest book (which was a glossy hard back filled with photos of the couple to be signed by the guests with gel pens), and the all important porta-johns.
The dance floor was assembled like a giant jigsaw puzzle beneath strings of globe lights. The crowning glory was the wood and glass chandelier lovingly handmade by family friend Denton Cooper (another type A in the group) using mason jars for the light globes. This was to be the wedding gift but when Denton found out that mason jars would serve as the vases for the gorgeous hand assembled silk flower centerpiece bouquets for each table, he realized he could incorporate his gift into the evening’s ambiance.
The ceremony took place against the fence separating the forest from the meadow. The arbor was crafted from aspen logs and decorated with pine boughs sporting the red, yellow and purple flowers that formed the color scheme. The unity candle was on a table just beneath the arbor that was covered in red and yellow rose petals on the day of the wedding. Although the breeze threatened to blow them away, we were able to hang on to most of them as the weather cooperated most exquisitely, warming into the low 70’s in the afternoon, with a few wisps of clouds for color over the green tree line and a slight breezy gust from time to time, just enough to keep us on our toes and our underarms dry.
The procession was led by the grandparents who emerged from behind the curtain that formed the eastern edge of the party area. Followed by the parents who were escorted by the best man-Brandon’s best friend Justin from Yuma, and the “man of honor” Trina’s brother and best friend, Travis. (Yes, she did this before the Patrick Dempsey movie was ever marketed).
Then came the flower-chuckers; five little boys under the age of 4, in white shirts and black pants. One was pulling and another was pushing the other three in a farm wagon draped with red and white netting and red flowers. The riders tossed rose petals along the aisle to the tune of “Sweet Home Alabama.” About that time the maroon Model A that Shorty, the bride’s father loving built along side his great Uncle Joe could be spotted making its way in from the direction of town. As the traditional wedding march piped out the car pulled up and Shorty emerged to escort the bride up the aisle.
The ceremony was moving, particularly for me as officiant and aunt of the bride. I am known for tearing up over radio commercials and my voice was a bumpy as the rutted dirt road Trina just rode in on, but eventually I hit my stride and it was all good. Brandon’s stepfather joined the ceremony with a poem written for the couple complete with reading parts for the two of them. Other than the wind playing havoc with the candles, it all went like clockwork. Janna sang “The Rose” as the rose petals on the table floated in the breeze and they sky grew ever bluer as dusk was approaching. Melanie’s perky reading on friendship restored light to the mood.
After the happy couple and their extended families weathered the grueling photo session, complete with signing the license on the hood of the car, the couple made their way across the lawn to officially start the festivities and gaze upon the bare appetizer trays that had been so coveted by the waiting crowd. After the first dance and wonderful toasts from the two bridal party members the hungry hoards headed for the food tent. While standing in line they were treated to a slide show of the last two and one half years of Trini and Brandon’s lives together. This lucky pair appears to be on perpetual vacation from the looks of the photos.
The meal was stunning. Brandon’s Dad Mitch has spent the better part of the day roasting 95 pounds of tri-tip on his homemade grill. This thing is so big it gets pulled along on its own wheels and probably should have an MVD trailer plate. An ingenious set-up it has a pulley system that raises and lowers the grill rack to get just the right heat. After rolling the roasts in a seasoning mixture they were coddled over a fire of indigenous wood until they were just short of done. With his pig tail tool the roasts were lovingly transferred to foil-lined ice chests and sealed inside, capturing the heat and bringing the meat to the perfect serving temperature by dinner time. The same process was used on 98 pounds of marinated chicken.
The food tent was manned by the McCarty’s. This family’s DNA is intertwined with the
Weedon’s from generations of hunting together. We all remember stories from Grandpa Frank about old McCarty. His spawn have kept hunting-story-making tradition alive to this day as an integral part of the lore that has arisen from this very spot and plenty of others in all the previous hunting trips these groups have done together. These people are also overactive and so they were the perfect group to handle the food service. Fresh handmade tortillas, corn, green beans, rolls, salad and the best pinto beans you ever had were served as if at a top notch resort buffet.
Travis’ ex-girlfriend and current love of the entire rest of the family, Chelsea Gould, a darling if there ever was one, caught the bouquet. Alas Travis missed the garter. But after a night of “everclear” and nonstop dancing in the mountain air, Travis and Chelsea were seen walking off together. Although we heard no bells and saw no lightening, it was nice to see them at least talking again.
The madness continued into the deepest part of the night, eventually migrating to the huge fire pit. The diehards and the urban cowboys stuck it out to the bitter end. We left the 37 degree party ourselves at about midnight as the dancing was winding down and without the movement it was a bit on the nippy side. Up until then even the dogs were dancing.
The only down side to the entire adventure was the dirt. It was inescapable. And sticky. Trina had a gorgeous hairdo that was blond on top with brown curls emerging from beneath it and streaming down her back. By the halfway mark her gorgeous white dress that cascaded to the ground was blond on top with brown curls emerging at the bottom. At least it matched her hair!
But one happy, happy time. The attention to detail paid off and it was a most memorable event for us all. Thanks Trina and Brandon and here is hoping that rest of your marriage is as successful and fun as the wedding!
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