San Luis Obispo 2019

Random Musings from San Luis Obispo:

(A click on any photo enlarges it to screeen size.)

Calla lilies in our front yard

At Home in San Luis Obispo

California's drought is over, it seems.  We had the coolest and wettest month in SLO since we began spending our Januarys here.  It rained on several days, sending us to the movies, an outcome we didn't mind.  We don't see as many movies here as at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival.  We probably see as many here in a month as we do all year back home.

Our hiking was limited because of the weather; but we got in some good ones nevertheless, including our annual trek to the top of Bishop Peak.  (A tough climb, but we are still up to it!)  Sections of trails were often slippery with mud, but not really a problem.

Back on the Trails Again

View from Bishop Peak

Good music again this year!  The best was the SLO Jazz Society performance by the Ben Rosenbloom Trio.  The Ben Rosenbloom Trio hasn't quite made the big time yet (although as we listened to them it was clear that they're on their way).  Walking home, we noticed a couple of well-traveled camper vans parked near the venue and concluded that we were looking at both their means of travel and their home away from home.

We also attended an annual piano recital at Cal Poly featuring the school's head of the music department - W. Terrance Stiller.  And there was also the annual "Bach at the Mission" concert at Mission San Luis Obispo.  We got interactive with the music at Bang the Drum, a brew pub a short walk from our house, where we attended a Sunday night Salsa lesson.  We danced and laughed and quaffed some good local brew with a congenial group of people.  I managed to always be a half dozen steps behind Carol and everyone else, but I disguised my shortcomings with some slick improvisational moves.

On a visit to the co-op one day, I struck up a conversation about movies with the cashier.  I mentioned that we saw "On the Basis of Sex," the docu-drama on Ruth Bader Ginsberg's life that was currently playing in town.  I mentioned that we have to hope that she outlives Donald Trump's presidency.  The cashier replied, "She can have any of my body parts that she needs."

It was Restaurant Month in SLO.  We made sure to take advantage of this, visiting all of our favorite spots and discovering a great new one - Oasis Mediterranean Restaurant.  New to us, that is; it's been around for a while.  It's now on our list of favorites.  Our local friends, M and Paula, took us to Taste, a brief walk from our place, for dinner one night.  We've passed by it dozens of times over the years and pretty much ignored it, but it was really good.

Carol took a fall on a Sunday morning walk to the Black Horse coffee shop, where we always read the Sunday NY Times.  She  landed on her right hand, spraining and bruising it.  I drove her to the local Urgent Care, where they took good care of her.  No broken bones, fortunately, but healing has been a slow process.

I searched online for bocce courts in SLO and found one at Emerson Park, a short bike ride from our house.  The park website stated that there's open bocce on Thursdays at noon.  I was excited!  When I checked it out, I found two guys my age playing.  I asked if it were a slow day, and they said that the group was thus far comprised of the two of them.  We chatted, and I watched.  They invited me back.  That was the last sunny Thursday of our stay in SLO, so I never got to play with them.

Carol and I left some of Rowdie's ashes at our favorite places to walk with her - Laguna Lake Open Space, Meadow Park in our neighborhood, South Hills Open Space and, of course, our back yard where she roamed free.

Laguna Lake Open Space

Morning Hike

On Saturday, the 19th, a lovely day, we walked to Mitchell Park, where a large, enthusiastic gathered for the annual Women's March.  We listened to some speeches and a spirited poem read by local poet Dian Sousa.  (It is the voice of resistance.  Try reading it aloud to yourself.)  We marched through downtown SLO in bright sunshine, a big improvement over the first march in 2017, when we marched in a heavy downpour to protest, along with hundreds of thousands around the world, the inauguration of Donald Trump.  In 2019, the focus of the SLO Women's March has evolved.  Their mission statement says, in part, that they stand in solidarity to protect human rights, the safety and health of all people and our planet as we move toward a positive and just future.  They proclaim, "We are actively nonviolent in words and action.  We work to unify our nation's diverse communities.  We recognize that there is no true peace, freedom or inclusion without equity for all."

I can buy into that.

Women's March

The men joined the women.

Toward the end of our stay, our good friends, Jan and Dave, paid us a visit.  It's always good to see them, and we had a great time.  Cooking together was a highlight.  Jan cooks a great breakfast, and Dave is Best Dishwasher Ever.  Carol and I felt like royalty.  Dave had the misfortune of coming down with a mean cold the day they arrived.  He gamely kept up with us on most of our adventures, but wasn't able to do much hiking.  He was healthy enough to visit the bocce ball court with me, where we got in a few games.  

Hiking Enthusiasts, Good Friends

Hiking Reservoir Canyon Trail - Play Break

Lunch with a View on Reservoir Canyon Trail

The Incident of the Iced Tea and the Computer:  How do you have an "incident" with a glass of iced tea?  Well, you let a full glass of the stuff get too close to a MacBook and then you go and get all clumsy.  The Apple tech who opened up my laptop to look inside said, "There was a lot of iced tea in there."  That was the end of my MacBook Air, and the principal cause of this year's delayed Travel Journal posts.  I'm typing these words on my new (refurbished and insured) MacBook Air.

That's it from San Luis Obispo.  I'll finish with some of my favorite photos from this year's stay.

After the Rain

Lichen

Lacey Redd

Playground, Mitchell Park

Winter Vine

Now, it's off to Santa Barbara.

Road Trip West '19

We are streaking south on Interstate 35 in the frigid darkness.  Cold weather will follow us for all four days of our trek west.  The sadness of departure wraps itself around me.  Leaving home and family always does this to me.  It will pass.  I love travel; but always, the connection to home remains strong.

Travel Attire

We are two hours on the road when the sun peeks over the horizon.  Iowa.  Carol works the Times crossword; I travel with my thoughts.  Packing was easy this year.  I miss the challenge of getting everything to fit in the middle seat so that Rowdie can have her den in the way back.  I miss Rowdie. Nasty winds and sub-zero temperatures pummel us at our first fuel stop.

Day One is all about leaving snow and ice and freezing temperatures behind.  Our arrival in North Platte is cause for celebration.  The longest travel day is behind us.  We check in at La Quinta and head across the street to walk the golf course along the Platte River.  This year the river is stuffed to almost overflowing with swirling ice.  We admire the Canada geese flying formation above us as we sidestep their droppings on the greens.  I remove the special bag from my coat pocket.  Carol and I each reach in for a handful of ashes.  We sprinkle Rowdie's remains in a place we enjoyed wandering with her.

Open Water, Platte River

On Day Two we begin to look ahead.  We turn onto the launching ramp for I-80 and leave North Platte in the early morning darkness.  Overhead a thin sliver of moon floats in a sea of stars, startlingly bright.

Nebraska is as flat as Iowa.  Colorado rises in the distance long before we encounter the Welcome to Colorful Colorado roadside sign.  The hills begin to rise right at the border, as if the state boundaries were decided based on the terrain.  The dawn sky and landscape are all pastels, with a sprinkling of black dots in the hills.  Cattle.  Under the Colorful Colorado sign, a woman snaps a photo of her companion.

Frigid weather continues to follow us all the way to Grand Junction.  The sun is shining, however, and after we check in, we drive across town to the banks of the Colorado River.  There, we hike a favorite trail.  Again, I reach for the special bag and again we leave some of Rowdie at a site of good memories.

The only other walker on the trail overtakes us, and we strike up a conversation.  He lives in Colorado at the moment, but seems to move around.  He tells us he grew up in St. Louis, and Carol and he talk about neighborhoods and their high schools.  He is Carol's age, and still working as a pilot on the Mississippi.  He skippered the Delta Queen once upon a time.  Now he wonders when he'll be able to retire.

On Day Three, the lights of Grand Junction fade from the rear view mirror as we fly into the empty expanse of Utah.  The same cosmic artist with a pastel palette has preceded us this morning.  This is the best part of the road trip for me. We streak ahead toward distant mountains that never seem to get closer.  Exit ramps mark roads to nowhere.  Except that they lead to someplace and somebody.  I wonder whom.

The RAV4 floats in the expanse of desert.  The sky brightens.  The colors of the desert floor about us and the distant mountains sharpen to brilliant clarity.  Black shadows cling to every crevasse and canyon of the surrounding mountains.

Wild Utah

We pass Green River.  A road sign advises, No services next 106 miles.  Perfect.

Remember seventh grade math class?  A car leaves St. George, UT, at 7:30 a.m. and travels east at 75 mph.  Another car leaves Grand Junction, CO, at 6:30 a.m. traveling west at 80 mph.  Where will the two cars meet?  Answer:  The Wonder Café in Richfield, UT.

Paul and Aidan have been on the Pacific coast at Oxnard, CA, their own brief winter getaway.  Now they are returning home on the same route we are taking.  Aided by cellphone technology, we rendezvous in Richfield, Utah.  We have coffee and snacks at The Wonder Café, embrace and head off in opposite directions.

Rendezvous at the Wonder Café (I wonder how the photographer managed to miss the  name of the place!)

We spend our last night on the road in Death Valley.  We stop at Zabriskie Point in time to watch the sunset and then check in down the road at the Ranch in Death Valley.  We have dinner in the cocktail lounge of the Inn at Death Valley, a five-star resort.  Location.  Location.  Location.  The food was good, but not a match for Mill Valley Kitchen, much closer to home.

Zabriskie Point

In the morning we are in no hurry.  We drive the nine-mile one-way loop road to Artist's Palette, where we leave the car to wander through stunning canyons painted by a dozen minerals.  It is beautiful in the morning shadows, probably spectacular in the late afternoon sunlight, when we will be hundreds of miles down the road.

Artist's Palette

We return to our motel, where we take a last minute swim in the pool that is fed by warm springs. We discover their bocce court and play a few frames.

Desert Bocce - one point for red.

Then we're off to the Eureka Dunes, which lie adjacent to US Route 90, our road out of Death Valley. We explore the dunes separately.  Carol walks to the farthest and tallest dunes, along with several young people carrying snowboards.  I take a few half-hearted photos, then find a quiet spot away from the stream of tourists and do Tai Chi in the desert, with my eyes on the mountains that surround Death Valley.

Tai Chi Studio

On Route 395 out of Death Valley, I spot a white cross.  It's not by the roadside, a marker of a car crash, but on a barren hill, so far from the roadway that I see it only by chance.  What happened there?

San Luis Obispo is only about six hours from Death Valley, a cake walk compared to the previous three days' travels.  By the time we make our last gas stop, our well-organized back seat looks like a teenage boy's bedroom.  We've given up all attempts at keeping organized.  It's not necessary anymore, but still it grates on me.  The middle seat is now a jumble of random gloves, camera gear, scarves, empty plastic bottles, laundry, fleece, laptops, open bags of snack foods, damp swimsuits.  We purchase snacks without reason - salads, giant bottles of Snapple tea, peanut butter crackers. Carol buys a large bag of Cheetos.  (Carol!)

We gorge ourselves as we drive the last hundred miles.  Cheetos!  Appalling!  Delicious!  Orange fingers!  California, here we come!