San Luis Obispo: Third Week - Visitors Week

When I last wrote, Terry and Jeannie had just arrived in town, having gotten out of the Twin Cities just as the temperatures plummeted to unspeakable negativity.  As they exited the terminal at the Santa Barbara airport, their smiles were as bright as the blue California skies and as warm as the balmy temperatures.

(A click on any photo gives you a full screen look.)

 

Terry and Jeannie find their rhythm.

To liven things even more, Jan Search arrived via Amtrak on Sunday night from San Diego, where she had been visiting her father.  Monday was a full day.  We began with our own Inaugural Breakfast - fresh fruit, Carol's superb special recipe pancakes, gourmet coffee and mimosas!  We watched the inauguration and toasted the start of President Obama's second term.  Wasn't Richard Bianco's poem moving? 

 As soon as the president left and the dishes were done, we took a good hike in Irish Hills, to a summit with splendid views of the countryside, Morro Rock and Morro Bay.  Jan noted animal tracks which we speculated just might be cougar tracks (or the yeti!), but concluded that more than likely were of the canine variety.  Back to the house for lunch and a brief rest, and then we were off for a gentler walk along the coastal shoreline.

 

Irish Hills Hike, Top of the Mountain

What was it???

Irish Hills

Jan found her rhythm, too.

 Another rest, and we were off to downtown SLO for an excellent dinner at Cioppinot.  They specialize in the seafood stew, cioppino, and also boast of a wine list featuring literally dozens of pinot noirs.  Hence, the cute restaurant name.  I, of course, had to order the featured entrée, which came in my very own personal Le Creuset pot.

 

As suddenly as Jan arrived, she departed.  We dropped her at the Amtrak station early the next morning.  Terry, Jeannie, Carol and I were left to soldier on.  We managed nicely for the rest of the week.  The highlight, in my humble opinion, was our trip up the coast on Wednesday.  We started with a tour of Hearst Castle, something I never thought I would do.  I have to admit that it was pretty interesting and informative.  The strongest image I am left with is the up-close and personal, multi-sensory encounter with outrageous wealth.  William Randolph Hearst was not the wealthiest man in America, but touring this castle and being immersed in the trappings of his unimaginable riches gave flesh and blood meaning to the term, "the one percent" or ".1 percent" or whatever way you wish to parse it.

 

Hearst Castle

Hearst's Front Yard

 

Hearst's Back Yard

Hearst Farm - Prime Beef

From the Hearst Castle we visited the migrating elephant seals.  Thousands of these massive creatures take over the beaches near Piedras Blancas each winter, to mate and give birth before returning to their migration.  I could watch them for hours.

Mama and Pup

Mama and Pup II

A Difference of Opinion

Whose harem is it?

We weren't done yet.  We continued up the coast into Big Sur where we negotiated the spectacular twisting, climbing Route 1 and found a beach to wander for a while.

 

Big Sur

Big Sur

By the time we got home, we were pretty tired and settled for good old untouristy take-out pizza.

The first (and only, thus far) rainy day of our stay in San Luis Obispo was Thursday.  We drove Terry and Jeannie down to Santa Barbara for lunch at the Savoy and then to the airport for their return flight to Minneapolis.  Carol navigated us on a back road return route that took us through Los Olivos, where we visited some wine tasting rooms.

 

Even rainy days are lovely in California.

The rain moves inland.

 Red sky at night, hikers' delight.

 The guests are gone, and we're back to our routine for the waning days of our stay.  Walk the dog, linger over breakfast, perhaps a coffee shop visit to get a New York Times.  Then a lengthy afternoon hike.  Movie?  Maybe.  Winery visit?  More likely than not.  Dinner out?  If we wish.  Read?  Nap?  You bet.

I put the bikes up for sale on Craigslist Saturday afternoon.  I sold them both by Saturday night for the same price we paid for them.  Craigslist is so cool.

 Laguna Hills on a morning dog walk.

 Talley Vineyards

 Talley Vineyards

Reflection

Pier at Cayucos

We're off to downtown SLO in a few minutes to launch Week Four - walk around, lunch at Big Sky, visit the art museum, window shop and hang out with the locals. 

San Luis Obispo: Second Week - Are they still playing football?

Driving home from the movie Monday night ("Hyde Park on Hudson" - disappointing), we stop, as the law requires, for a red light.  Two young men, who have had a few beers, saunter through the crosswalk, as the law permits.  One stops directly in front of the RAV4, bends over to put his eyes twelve inches from the license plate, and bellows, "Where are you from?  Minnesota?  Go home!"  He straightens, turns and follows his buddy.  Carol lowers her window and yells after him, "No!  It's five degrees there!"  He yells again, "Go home!"

SLO is shorthand here, both visual and oral, for San Luis Obispo, which apparently contains too many syllables to repeat on a regular basis.  The logo on the side of city buses, therefore, reads, "SLO Transit."  I commented to Carol that they might want to rework that one.  Carol's response was that they should keep it and enhance it.  Her suggestion?  "SLO Transit.  Relax.  You'll get there."

We have settled into a comfortable routine by now.  In the early morning, we take a long exploratory walk with Rowdie and then just hang out.  I work on my current short fiction.  Carol shops or reads or tries to decipher her upcoming choices for Medicare.  After lunch we set out on a long hike, sometimes accompanied by Rowdie, sometimes not.  The evenings are for more reading, perhaps a movie, occasionally dinner out.

Our friends, Sue and Dick Molnar, who migrated from the Twin Cities to Santa Fe, were in town for two days.  We met them for dinner at Novo, where we dined outdoors by the creek.

Today we drove to Santa Barbara to pick up our friends, Terry and Jeannie Keir, who will be staying nearby for a few days.  We went early to have some time to explore Santa Barbara.  Downtown is really nice.  It felt Parisian - welcoming architecture, lots of people walking.  Mostly, it was the many people out and about, sitting in sidewalk cafés, strolling the wide avenues.  We had a great lunch at the Savoy, a café and deli.  One of our best meals so far.  A warm, sunny day.

 

Terry & Jeannie arrive for fun times in SLO

The social whirl continues.  Tomorrow evening, another friend, Jan Search, arrives by train for a one-day visit.  I am very excited to be meeting someone at the train station at night.  It is so Bogart-like.  Too bad I don't have a trench coat.  Maybe it will be foggy.

 The Pleasures of Hiking

 A common sight in the neighborhood

 A great lunch spot in Santa Barbara

 Havin' a wonderful time.  Wish you were here.

 On the way to the top of Cerro San Luis

 Contentment.

 Hiking trail between Avila Beach and Shell Beach.

 Winter Wonderland, Central Coast Style

Switchback Trail

 More Pleasures of Hiking.

Stan the Man Musial died yesterday, my all-time favorite baseball player. Once we were fortunate to attend a Cardinals game in a VIP box at Busch Stadium.  As we got off the elevator, there was Stan the Man, standing not fifty feet feet from us.  Paul, about eleven or twelve years old at the time, knew about the great Musial.  When I pointed out Stan the Man to him, Paul broke away from us, walked right up the the great man, introduced himself and got Stan the Man's autograph, which he presented to me.  I still have it with my Stan Musial poster on the wall of my office.

San Luis Obispo - Our First Week

Random thoughts, random happenings of our first week:

Chilly when we set out on the early dog walk, but the sun warms us soon enough.

By Wednesday, we've got two bikes from Craig's List, not fast, but who needs fast?

We see "Lincoln," our first matinee of retirement, in downtown SLO.

Carol is a map master; we'll learn the city in no time with her planning our outings.

We've been to the YMCA already.

Thursday dinner at Buona Tavola in downtown.  Four Stars.

Our first bicycle ride to our first view of the Pacific.

Our house is small, but charming.  The back yard is a lovely, private retreat.

So many cafés and restaurants to try.
We take an afternoon drive through stunning hillsides to visit a few wineries.
Three coffee shops within walking distance.
Nothing exciting to report, but we're not here for excitement.

Downtown Farmers' Market, Thursday evening:  produce, and so much more - tacos, jugglers on  unicycles, enchiladas, Cal. Hwy. Patrol outreach, hot chocolate, American Atheist Society, pizza, limes that look like lemons and taste sweeter than candy, anti-abortion protesters, a giant inflatable slide for kids - I think the entire populace strolls Higuera Street taking it all in. 

And random images, as well...
(Click on an image to see it full screen.)

 Wolff Vineyards (A nice dry riesling)

 Wolff Vineyards

Winter Vines, Chamisal Vineyards


Our private back yard

 
Looking down on SLO on a morning dog walk.

Cerro San Luis


Another Dog Walk

 

Neighborhood sights, walking the dog (again!)

Birds of Paradise (Guess what we're doing.)


Relaxing on a bike ride to Avila Beach
 
 
It's not all fun and games, you know.

Retirement Road Trip - The Final Stretch

California, at last!  Winter vines lie in what looks like desert to us.

Somewhere ahead lies San Luis Obispo.

 

Our friend, Sue Keator, asked us if we knew the translation of "La Quinta."  No, we told her.  She said it means, "Right next to IHOP."  We laughed out loud when we came to this intersection in Bakersfield, CA.

"Look here.  AAA has routed us north out of Bakersfield to Route 46, which brings us to Rte. 101 north of San Luis Obispo.  But the map shows Rte. 58 goes straight from Bakersfield to San Luis Obispo."

"Let's take 58 then."  And we do, along with plenty of company.  A few miles past Bakersfield, Rte. 58 takes a ninety degree left turn.  The RAV4 turns left, the only vehicle to do so.  We are suddenly alone on the road.  We are about to enter the Twilight Zone.

A white California DOT truck passes going in the opposite direction.  Then a second and a third pass us.  It's 3:45, near quitting time.  A fourth truck passes.  It's as if they were fleeing something.

Ten miles on, we stop briefly in McKettrick, California, to stretch our legs and get a snack.  No gas station.  Two markets, both with shelves half empty.  Mangy dogs roam the street, eyeing the city dog with suspicion. The few people about ignore us.  Do they even see us?

 

We enter the Twilight Zone.

We drive on.  "No services next 70 miles," reads the sign.  We have almost half a tank of gas; we're fine.  We are alone.  The road climbs.  More white work trucks pass us heading in the opposite direction.  There is nothing out here.  Where have all these trucks been?  What have they been doing?

We continue to climb.  The road becomes a series of switchbacks.  We poke along at about fifteen miles per hour, climbing steeply.  We round a curve and...  A Stop sign?  And a barricade?  And...  A white truck parked by the side of the road.  A young man with a walkie talkie approaches us.  It'll just be a few minutes he tells us.  "We got twenty-two trucks coming through."  A minute later, a convoy of large semi trailers snakes downhill toward us. They are unmarked.  Are we in the middle of some clandestine government operation?

The trucks pass.  He waves us on.  The switchbacks come one after another; there are no straightaways.  Five mph is now a comfortable pace, with an occasional burst of speed to ten mph.  "It's like the back roads of Italy."  How in the world did those monster semis make it through?  Why did they come this way?

Somewhere during the climb, Rowdie, who has been content in her own den in the wayback of the RAV4 for five days and two thousand miles, tries to climb into the middle seat, piled high with our suitcases.  She gets twisted in one of the seat belts.  We find a turnout, and pull over to extricate her.  She has practically chewed through the seat belt.

We start off again, and again she tries and succeeds to stretch herself over the suitcases, where she remains the rest of the journey, her head inches from mine.  What is driving her to be close to us?

Soon we are on the downhill, and then out of the mountain range.  On our right we pass a "wind farm," surrounded by endless fence.  No development, no buildings, no windmills are visible.  Is this where the semis came from?  What was in those trucks?  I look in the rear view mirror, no reason.  No white trucks.  Good.

We've seen no signs of development in fifty miles.  Finally, a ranch here, a farm there.  Another twenty miles lies the town of Santa Margarita.  And then, after almost six days, Highway 101 somehow surprises us.  Fifteen minutes, Siri guides us to 581 Lawrence Drive, San Luis Obispo - our home for the next four weeks.

The view from our front porch.

 

 581 Lawrence Drive, San Luis Obispo

Total Miles Traveled:  2,200