(March 28, 2009)

I say we fish five days, and work two. --bumpersticker

The swallows arrived just a week before I left. A sure sign of Spring, and boy have we been waiting for that!

I just got home to Seattle, as you can tell I have been doing a powerful lot of "road warrior" stuff; my brother called it "significant windshield time". I love to drive; I think, watch the scenery, and sorta put life together when on long trips, or put on the headphones and have a great old time with my music. Luckily Ford motor company builds a most awesome car, even the cheap ones. Strider the Ranger did his best one more time, and despite my paranoia (I bought a new alternator and carried it in the back "just in case") all I had to do was add a bit of oil. Strider’s getting old and the gaskets WILL leak a bit in old Fords. But he did know the way to California.

My apologies for this taking so long, but I had a few things to research first (do it right! :)) ALL of the shows have been just incredible, professional, enjoyable magical, wonderful. I was down banging on the stage apron in Bakersfield and SB both...... the Nazi security however thwarted so many of us in Primm, apparently they are well versed in mosh pits. I thought Bakersfield was the best (front row center does that to you), and Primm was pretty incredible. The others were good too, I would put Oakland down at the bottom (and it was good too!) No major flaws that my humble ears could detect....... hope everyone who went had a great time.

I took off a bit early (like right as soon as I could clear town after work on Friday!) loaded up with recycles, the filthy things! Once I got to Portland, I was able to recycle them and get ice and supplies for my cooler in the back. The best thing about driving your own car is you can carry your own food, cooler, and bring things home that you find. When you fly, you have to travel light.

Passed through Ashland, checking hotels for my summer jaunt down to the Britt and Shakespeare festival. Amazing how much this area looks like the Shennadoah Valley, over on the other coast. Good heavens, I spotted a young girl hitch hiking! BRAINLESS. The whole area of the Rogue River, from Ashland to Grant’s Pass, is just incredible. In fact, the Moodies if they take a day off in this area, are really going to enjoy the fishing! (I know Paul fishes).

There’s something about being 6 hours down the road at midnight, in hot bubbling water that makes it all worthwhile, whatever "it" might be. Friday night was a wonderful Motel 8 in Roseburg, OR which had internet, hot tub and all the good things I need in a hostel, including a decent bed. Even the maids late at night were very funny. But I was up with the birds anyway, jeez I can never sleep on vacation. I did good to get five hours most nights, and that sucks. This is going to be the last long trip I take I think, by myself.

March 29, 2009

• The wind is in from Africa, last night I couldn’t sleep
• Oh you know it sure is hard to leave here Cary, but it’s not my home
• My finger nails are filthy, I got beach tar on my feet…….

(Joni Mitchell)

I elbowed the plump waffle hounds out of the way at the free brekkie the next day (I would have liked ONE waffle, sniff), and loaded up on orange juice (the only thing palatable). The weather gods were smiling (yes, Moody Magic, angels watch over me) and the Siskyous failed to snow up, it was clear sailing all the way down I5 and into the Bay Area, down HWY 680. Our Western Spring Breaks are less spectacular but just as exciting as yours on the East Coast, just about every kid I talked to in schools the week prior was headed to California, somewhere. We spread out more I think.

Travel is a lot of fun, people who stay at home don’t know what they are missing. I saw one truck with vampire fangs on the grill! (there was a lot of vampire thought in the wind this trip). There were a lot of hybrids on the road, which is good sign (I think). I stopped for gas at some hot sheets trucker spot (cheap motel next door) and used the unisex bathroom. I almost howled reading the condom machines on the wall! (Are all men’s restrooms like THIS???) One item was "Horny Goatweed" (some herbal pill!) and some other items were black-studded condoms, and glow-in-the-dark condoms, "warmed encounters". Good god, the things men will do to get a thrill! I can’t think of anything more certain to inspire velleity in your average woman, who is just happy with a warm cuddle and some companionship.

The minute I got over the pass (South of the Klamath), SPLAT a bug! Yep I’m in California. The yellow smears on my windshield turned out to be destroyed Monarch Butterflies, who had traveled all the way from Mexico only to lose their battle against my windshield. UGH my car still has bug juice all over it. You poor devils that fly in from back East to drive in Los Angeles, or San Francisco, I don’t know what to say. I sure shocked a few of the assholes tho; when they see your out of state license they try to run over you, and I bet I gave a couple of locals heart attacks when I started driving just as bad as they did. I grew up driving in LA. Nothing on four wheels scares me!

California slays me. Most people from there speak a little Spanish, yet place names remain the same. Signs like Putah Creek and Los Banos make you chuckle as you drive along, wondering at the Iberian sense of humor.

The smell of grass just makes you pass into a dream……. (Mike Pinder)

My little Motel 8 in Gilroy sucked, and had short sheets, but was cheap, and actually had Internet. Nice kid at the counter was a computer buff. Up early Sunday, I took what looked like "a short cut" over to the coast (152), chugged up over the Gablian Mountains (ever read The Red Pony?) and Mt. Madonna, into old growth forest (I stopped right next to a huge Pacific Yew!) hair-pin curves.

You know, memory is a funny thing, we all sometimes forget the emotion of the moment, until it pops out unexpectedly (like rat mapping memories, it has to be cued). My rat-mapping memories kicked in on this road, my stomach got queasy and I pulled over for some yoghurt…….. I suddenly recognized the place! YEAH. This was that horrible road to Big Sur I tossed my socks up on, when I was a very small kid. My parents used to do some horrible vacation drives. Jeez what an ugly memory to dig out of my brain! I slowed (gulping down bile) and finally reached Watsonville, which is a very charming, hidden little town (full of wineries!) and hanging a sharp left, headed to Monterey to get a whiff of old Cannery Row. I passed tons of artichoke and asparagus fields. If you’ve ever eaten either of these delicacies, there’s a good chance it came from Watsonville, they supply the entire West coast, and probably a good deal of the East too. YUM.

I'd like to be under the sea in an Octopuses garden, with you! --the Beatles

http://www.oocities.org/robin5150/monterey.htm

http://www.montereybayaquarium.org

The Monterey Bay area is a jewel of California, in the same sense that Yosemite is, but thankfully not as well known. Wildflowers were in a riot, everywhere, golden poppies, blue cornflowers, rolling sand dunes at Moss Landing, covered with little delicate vines. What a wonderful start to my vacation!

The aquarium was fabulous! It’s a must if you ever pass near that area whilst going through California. (that is, unless you hate fish). They have a tank called The Outer Reef (the whole place is split up into different biomes). Outer Reef was just huge, and it was packed like an IMAX theatre, all blue and cool. Sharks, all sorts of critters were swimming in there, you felt like Captain Nemo himself. They also have a five story tall tank with giant kelp in it. I know I’m weird, but I spent a lot of time making friends with the sturgeons, they actually responded to my fingers wiggling and came over to investigate; quite curious critters, seem to have good sense. (I think they were able to change color/dots too, like cephalopods, I wonder if they communicate that way?) The pink jellies were psychedelic against brilliant blue. The words to "Octopus’s Garden" were on the walls <smiles>, as well as another sign that said "don’t flash the Octopus". Octopi are very intelligent creatures.

I think my favorite exhibit was the glass tunnel where the "shock wave" washed up and over you, like you're inside a breaker. I thought about Ricketts and Steinbeck listening to that shock wave breaking on the beach 24/7, over the weird rocks of the shore, and how much it must have permeated the entire ambiance of the Row. There are still tide pools outside the back door of the lab.

I took a few moments to wander out on the beach, before the Aquarium opened. Very lovely, I even saw an old bearded guy hanging out there, like a recreated Seer. (I think the place does draw a few people who are caught up in the whole role playing thing, many folks on the street looked like they just stepped out of a Steinbeck novel). Ed (Doc) Ricketts pioneered all this stuff, right there in Cannery Row. His lab is now surrounded by exclusive hotels. Oddly I wasn’t upset by that. They just exchanged one building full of fishy customers for another IE an old cannery for tight rooms full of tourists. "You fry and skin ‘em!". Bubba Gump’s shrimp restaurant was there too. I filled up my empty Pepsi bottle with the course grained sand off the beach (unusual!) and skedaddled out after only a few hours. I’m afraid I don’t do much Sun anymore, and it was more than my Pacific Northwest hide could deal with.

Before I could get out of town, I was turning left, heard a "HEY!" and as I started to pull out, looked over to the right (just in case) and some blithering idiot on a bicycle had ridden RIGHT in front of me. Like he owned the road. He didn‘t have the right away! (Other than pedestrians and bikes always have the right away, due to their vulnerable state). Listen, I know you bike riders are all trying to save the world from evil polluters, like me and Strider (my humble little Ranger, held together with bailing wire, that DOES get pretty good mileage). BUT this does not mean you suspend your intelligence, and ride in front of a car in traffic. The Bozo!!!!!!!!!! That’s all Strider needed, biker blood on his grill, commingled with the butterfly juice.