Road Trip: Destination Home

Saturday
We decided to leave San Luis Obispo Saturday afternoon and drive to Ventura, shaving120 miles off the long Sunday drive to Phoenix.  We planned to drive the charming two-lane country road we had driven the previous week.  Rowdie, who had traveled like a road trip warrior on the trip to California, began to whimper and pace from the outset and would not settle down.  We stopped along the side of the road and walked her in case she had to... you know; but that didn't help.  She would not stop whining.  Twenty miles into a 2,200 mile journey, things were not looking good.

Remember the Twilight Zone story from the road trip to California, when Rowdie climbed onto our suitcases and almost chewed through a seat belt strap as we climbed the twisting mountain roads?  Well, we figured out that it was not extraterrestrials or secret government activities that had gotten her so worked up.  Rowdie, we concluded, is prone to motion sickness.  Our romantic two-lane country road was driving her nuts, and she was driving us nuts.

We got back onto California 101 and, presto!  Rowdie circled her den twice, lay down and took a nap.  As long as we're on straight roads at steady speeds, no problem.

Arrived at La Quinta south of Ventura after dark and exited into a confusing hodgepodge of four-lane streets with big box retail stores and heavy traffic.  The motel was terrible - dingy and dirty.  A tiring end to a rough start.

Sunday
Things changed for the better Sunday morning.  We found the beach and had a lovely sunrise walk with Rowdie as the rough surf pounded the shoreline.  Got on the highway under sparkling blue skies.  Rowdie approved of the route and settled contentedly in the back.

(A click on any photo will enlarge it to full screen.)

 

Ventura, CA - Things began to look better after a rough start.

We cruised.  No traffic problems as we skirted LA and headed east.  The hills of the Central Valley yielded to majestic snow-capped mountains as we approached Palm Springs.  We made a brief stop in downtown Palm Springs to charge the cell phone at Starbucks and people watch.

 

Mt. San Jacinto, Palm Springs

The final leg of the trip was along Arizona Route 60, Superstition Highway, which took us to Pat and Bill Proulx's condo in Gold Canyon, lying just to the south of the Superstition Mountains.  Soon we were sipping wine, watching the Super Bowl and being treated to Pat's excellent chicken enchillada soup dinner.

 

Desert Sunset Near Gold Canyon

 

A delicious dinner from Pat's kitchen

Wouldn't you know, the fourth quarter of a close and exciting game commenced almost exactly at the same time as Downton Abbey.  After a bit of discussion (not too much), Bill and I did the gracious thing.

Monday

 The Superstition Mountains in morning light


Hanging out at Pat and Bill's.



Hanging out at Pat and Bill's.

 Monday was a rest day, a chance to visit with Pat and Bill.  Walking, talking, solving the Times crossword puzzle, a little bicycling, a little wine, a great hike in Peralta Canyon (while Pat waited at home for her new credit card to be delivered) and...

Four-Wheeling!

I confess that what I did Monday morning was not environmentally correct, but boy!  Was it fun!  Bill drove first, while I clung white-knuckled to a secure handhold.  Then it was my turn.  I tended to slow down when we approached a ravine, but Bill kept saying, "Floor it!"  What the hell!  I did.  We stayed on roads and trails; no local vegetation was harmed during our outing.  Burned some fossil fuels and made a little too much noise, perhaps.

Tuesday

Another travel day across the wilds of the southwest.  We arrived in Santa Fe and settled in at the Hotel Santa Fe (not to be confused with the Santa Fe Hotel and Inn, its upscale cousin down the street).  We had a charming casita only a short walk to the old plaza in the downtown.  The three of us took a long stroll and soaked up the blue skies and the ambience of the old city.

 

Patio, Hotel Santa Fe

A short walk in the other direction took us to the home of our friends, Dick and Sue Molnar, for another delicious dinner.  We drank good California wine and shared stories of our retirement lives.


Wednesday
We split up for most of our day in Santa Fe.  Carol went off shopping.  I wandered through photography galleries.  I have never seen so much stunning black and white photography in such a short period of time.  I saw the masters of the twentieth century (photos available for $15,000, give or take a few thou, framed).  The highlight of the morning was my discovery of a gallery that was not on the tourist map, the R David Marks Gallery.  David Marks owns the gallery, and all the photos displayed are his.  David greeted me as I entered, and we had a good conversation about his photography.  His work could hang alongside anything that I saw on this amazing morning.  The link above is a key to the door behind which you can view his stunning works.  His "Dad's Bowling Shoes" moved me deeply.

 

Photographic Treasures Inside

We met for a delicious burrito (Carol) and quesadilla (Marc) lunch at Burro Alley and then set out again on our own.  Carol shopped some more.  Overdosed on beautiful art, I strolled the streets, took photos and visited the churches.

 

A Good Lunch Spot.

 Patio Entrance, Georgia O'Keeffe Museum

 Near the old Plaza

 The Thirteenth Station of the Cross

 Mural

 Santa Fe

Thursday
US 285 runs straight as a knife south out of Santa Fe, forty miles of two-lane highway slicing  through the rolling New Mexico terrain. This morning under a bright blue southwestern sky, US 285 was as close to heaven as you can get in an automobile.  With the exception of a solo vehicle traveling north every five minutes or so, we were alone the entire way.  Clusters of piñon pine stretched out on either side of us all the way to the horizon.  We crested a hill, and they were gone, replaced by miles of yellow winter grass.  The silken tones of Frank Morgan's saxophone filled the car. I sipped strong dark roast.  For a stretch of a few miles, a strip of pure white snow ran parallel to the highway like a third lane.  It was the only snow in evidence, just as we were the only people.

The directions from Santa Fe to Oklahoma City are simple.  Take US 285 south to I-40.  Turn left.  Stop when you get there.  Once you're on I-40, New Mexico yields to the Texas panhandle.  The entire west is one vast open space, punctuated by the continental divide.  Somehow, the open spaces in Texas seem more vast and more open than anywhere else.  Looking out the windshield was like looking at eternity.  The wind blew strong across the highway.  Tumbleweed flew by, just like in the black and white t.v. westerns of my childhood.  Every sixty miles or so, a billboard reminded reminded us that “God is Alive” or that “Jesus is Lord.”  Sometimes there were visuals.

Down the road from the XXX Topless Bar

Our La Quinta in Oklahoma City had a cocktail lounge, our first such amenity of the entire trip.  There was one table of large, loud guys, a couple guys at the bar and us.  The waitress, herself barely old enough to drink, made the rounds.  Her duties, apparently, included stopping by the guys from time to time to massage someone’s shoulders and neck.  She finally got around to bringing Carol a martini and me a bottle of Dos Equis, no glass.  I knew enough not to ask for one.  When she brought the bill, she said, "Have a safe trip home, hon."  Hon?  Maybe she was a young-looking forty-five.  She didn't massage my neck.

The motel's heating system broke down shortly after we arrived.  We got an extra blanket and a free night's lodging.

The only other remarkable aspect of our stay was the fact that our RAV4 was, with the exception of a motorcycle and a sedan or two, the smallest vehicle in the parking lot.  The RAV4 was dwarfed by Ford F-250s, Dodge Rams and other oversized, extended cab monster pickup trucks.

Friday

A long, uneventful drive to Kansas City.  The directions to KC matched those of the previous day.  Take I-40 east to I-35.  Turn left.  Stop when you get there.  We arrived early enough to rest up and go out for an evening on the town, which consisted of attending the opening of a Chinese art exhibit that coincided with Chinese New Year (the Year of the Snake) at the Nelson Atkins Gallery of Art.  It was quite an event.  There was music, Chinese food, performance art (Chinese drums, Chinese yo-yo demonstrations) and access to all the galleries in the museum.  And throngs of people milled about, all ages, all races.  I was amazed at how crowded the large museum was.  When Carol and I left, people were still arriving.  We had parked on a residential street a couple blocks from the museum, the only car on the block.  When we left, the block was packed, and cars were circling, looking for a parking spot.

Saturday

The final leg of the road trip, for the most part covering familiar ground.  Gray skies all the way, but the snow didn't start until well after we emptied the RAV4, stowed it in the garage, sipped champagne in our own living room and began the chore of unpacking, opening mail, doing laundry and returning to normal.

Our living room was festooned with a cheerful "Welcome Home, Pop-Pop and Gram" sign, compliments of Paul and Aidan.  The kitchen counter held sweet treats from Ellen and notes and drawings from Wesley and Julien.  We're already talking about adding a couple of weeks to next year's road trip.  But for now, we are home.  Happily.

 Up to my elbows in grandsons!

It's good to be home.

Images of San Luis Obispo, January 2013

(Click on any photo to see it full screen.)

 

 Historic Hotel

 Neighborhood

 Downtown Alley

 Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa

Founded by Father Junipero Serra in 1772.

 Strong Soup

 Gourmet Soda Pop

 Faithful Friend

Playing to Pay for Dreams

 First Friday:  Art after Dark

 SLOMA

 

Art after Dark at SLOMA

New Show:  It Started with a Red Thread

 

Art after Dark at SLOMA:

What you can do with flax fiber and talent.

 Green Business

 Fine Dining

Bubblegum Alley

 Downtown Creek Life

 Neighborhood

Neighborhood

 

Train Station

 

SLO: Week Four - Wrapping up January

Fifteen years ago, Carol and I talked about where we would move after retirement to escape the harsh winters of Minnesota.  No place was ever good enough.  If winter was warm enough for Carol, summer was too hot for me.  We no longer talk of moving away from a place we love, from our children and our grandchildren and from the many friends who grace our lives.  But if we did consider it, this month we found where we'd move.

The San Luis Obispo Museum of Art is a tiny gem that you must not miss if you visit here.

San Luis Obispo is a small city where you can look up at the night sky and see the stars.

After walking downtown for lunch and a visit to the museum, I said to Carol, "I always look at my watch at the beginning of a walk or a bike ride to see how long it will take.  Then I always forget to check my watch at the end."
"There's a lesson in that," she said.
"What?" I said.
"Don't look at your watch the first time.  Save a step."

On Monday, we took a fabulous hike on the Reservoir Canyon Trail (Look for Central Coast Hikes, then scroll down to Reservoir Canyon Trail for a good description of what we did.) It was perhaps the best hike of our stay.  It was without doubt the hardest, five miles round trip, much of it a very steep uphill and downhill.  The views at the summit were worth it.  Below us lay the entire city of San Luis Obispo.  To the west lay the Pacific, glittering in the sunlight.

 Just the beginning of the climb out of Reservoir Canyon

 No one knows how these sculptures got here,

halfway up a rugged climb.

 I think students from California Polytechnic Institute

(Cal Poly) had something to do with it.

 Unusual for a wilderness hike?  Yep.

 Reservoir Canyon hike, near the summit of Murray Hill

 At the summit, the Pacific glittering in the distance.

 A stone bench for a casual lunch 

and a break from the brisk winds at the summit.

 El Cerro San Luis and Bishop's Peak frame

the city below and the Pacific in the distance.

 A view from the peak of Murray Hill

The funny part of this outing was that after driving a few miles north and east out of town to reach the Reservoir Canyon trailhead on the eastern side of Murray Hill, when we reached the summit we faced west and saw our neighborhood almost directly below us.  Talk about taking the long way around!

Later in the week, we hiked the Bowden Ranch trail, which is essentially hiking to the peak of Murray Hill from near our neighborhood, which meant the trail just went straight up the hill.  It was quite demanding, and we didn't get very far.

Bowden Ranch:  Straight up...

 ...and straight down.

This morning Carol and I did something we have not done in many years.  We played tennis together.  I play more or less regularly, but Carol hasn't picked up a racquet in a long time.  It didn't take her long to get her stroke back.  We played outdoors, of course, surrounded by eucalyptus trees and dramatic hills.

On Wednesday, we put on our hiking shoes again and were out the door early.  We were to take a docent-led hike along the hilly Pecho Coast Trail to the Port San Luis lighthouse.  The trail is on property owned by Pacific Gas & Electric, and the only access is through these guided tours.  There were ten of us, plus our two volunteer docents, Ken and Paul.  There was spectacular scenery, as there always is, but the best stuff was the small world at our feet and around us on the trail.  Ken and Paul did an excellent job of drawing our attention to the beauty that passes you by if you don't know what to look for.  They knew the native (and non-native) vegetation, the local wildlife and local geology and were both enthusiastic and entertaining as they shared their knowledge with us.

 

Pecho Coast Trail

Port San Luis Light House

 

Lighthouse Keeper's View of the Pacific

 Lighthouse Living Room

 

The Fresnel Lens that 

guided ships to port.

Tank Farm Road
Ken and Paul were also well-versed in local history.  We learned that early in the twentieth century, there was quite an oil drilling industry to the east of the area, around Bakersfield.  Pipelines ran from the oil fields to San Luis Obispo and neighboring towns, where it was stored in hundreds of tanks until it completed its journey to Port San Luis, where the crude was loaded onto tankers.  So many oil tanks were clustered in an area just south of San Luis Obispo that the road running past them was given the name of Tank Farm Road.  Carol and I have driven Tank Farm Road almost daily while we were here and wondered more than once about the peculiar name.

Unical

Ken and Paul provided some further insights on the oil years of the region.  Unical was the oil company working the area and their approach to the job was a cautionary tale for why government regulation is and always will be a necessity.

In building a pipeline, you need to seal the joints where pipe section meets pipe section.  Unical didn’t bother with that.  Their flippant attitude was that the oil came from the ground, so some of it returning there was no big deal.

It was a big deal for the residents of Avila Beach, where after a while a barefoot stroll along the coast would leave one’s feet coated with black sludge.  It was common as late as the end of the twentieth century that local residents had a container of turpentine at the entry of their homes and you were expected to clean your feet before entering.

There was a lawsuit, which Unical fought mightily, and lost.  In the late 1990’s, the entire town of Avila Beach was razed to the ground.  A giant excavation project was undertaken to extract the oil from the ground.  When it was completed, they rebuilt the town from the ground up.  Today it a charming seaside village with sidewalk cafés, shops, a boardwalk and a wide, inviting beach.

Our Last Night in SLO

Friday night in downtown SLO was "Art After Dark" night.  The art museum and several local businesses and galleries feature exhibits and the opportunity to meet local artists.  There's wine and cheese (and chocolate!).  Everyone turns out, and downtown is alive with activity.

And finally...

Village Host Pizza & Grill

We both succumbed to an optical trick.

Do you see a hidden word?

January is past.  It's time to leave the Central Coast, time to head for home.  What I will miss most about San Luis Obispo (the climate being a given) are the hills, the wineries and the blue skies.  I'm ready, however, to trade them in for our own home, our family, our friends and our neighborhood.