A weekend in San Francisco

I got to San Fran mid-day, and my friend here didn’t get off work until eight, so I had some time to kill. I drove around downtown for three hours, boggling at big buildings and crazy hills, crazy traffic, crazy people. I went to Golden Gate Park to let the dog run off some energy. I went over the Golden Gate Bridge to the ‘scenic outlook’. This outlook provides one of the worst angles I can imagine on such a nice long and lovely span. I am unimpressed:

 

I call my friend Courtney to let her know I’m in town, she tells me of a better view. I'm thrilled with how much better it is:

 

The dog and I sit at this beach for hours, reading, writing, photographing, walking. Totally relaxing. We even watch a hawk as it sits stationary in the sky, riding a current of air off the ocean:

 

Night falls and while I wait for her to get off of work she recommends a nearby hike, which gives a scenic look over the city:

 

Once she is home we walk to Dolores park which is the base of operations for all the fun shenanigans in the area. We sit and drink a few beers, catch up, and then walk home. The next day we return to the park to do some slack lining. I’m no good, but the folks she hangs out with sure are:

 

While we are at the park we are also treated to a capoeira group:

 

As well as an impromptu dance party:

 

Another day, we go to Albany Bulb, which had some fascinating sculptures:

 

Thanks a million to Courtney and her awesome roomates for having me and the dog over for the weekend and showing me around the place!

My hostess:

Picture dump from a few days of this trip

After Big Sur it was a trip up to Monterey to putz around for a bit. I went down to Cannery Row, and was quite underwhelmed. But then again I don’t like shopping:

 

So we went to watch the water for a few hours, which was much more my cup of tea:

 

We woke up WAY too early, after sleeping in a nearby wal-mart parking lot, so went by the docks to check it out before parking got crazy. It was a bunch of boats:

 

We explored some of the nearby small towns, which was great. I saw my first paddle-surfer in Capitola:

 

Saw my first lighthouse of the trip too:

 

We went to Donny Boon beach, where the clothing is optional. I decided to keep mine on. The waves here were amazing:

 

Then we headed north out of town. Ended up spending hours just watching a bunch of kite surfers:

 

and some wind surfers as well:

 

From there it was finding a place to bed down on a side road. A few hours of sleep, and then it was off to San Francisco!

A night in Big Sur

Big Sur. I’m not really sure when I get to Big Sur, I’ve been stopping constantly take pictures of the coastline. It’s a gorgeous area.

I stop in a ranger station. They have the book, which I buy. I stop some more, I take some more photos:

I try to stop into some of the state parks in the area. Almost all of them want me to pay for the privilege, which I am unwilling to do. Some of them will not allow me through the gate with the dog in the car. This is a bit disheartening.

 

I try to stop in a campground, but it has a no dogs rule. It’s also $25/night. Far outside of my acceptable price range. I ask the man at the guard shack where I should go, he sends me on a drive. A drive that winds through a redwood grove and a residential neighborhood. It winds until I worry if I have enough gas to get back to civilization, and then it stops winding at Bottcher’s Gap campground. The bugs are out in force and biting, but the fee is only $12 so I pay the fee and pull out the tent. It is still covered in water and sand from Pismo beach and needs aired out. I get it squared away, cook a ramen dinner, and then go hiking. It is hot, and the sweat is pouring freely from me:

 

When I get back I talk to the campground manager, he used to live in the Verde Valley and so we talk about arizona. He recommends a few hikes and then goes on about his duties. I pour myself a bourbon and write a letter to the girl I left behind. I try to read some of the book I bought, but the sun soon sets:

 

I go to bed early, and am kept awake all night by the intermittent hooting of owls. The dog and I get up early and go on one of the hikes that were recommended. A 2 1/2 mile trek down to the Little Sur river. It is gorgeous, even with all the biting bugs:

 

We hike back out, and it is pure uphill. Probably ~2500ft of up over the length of it, and by the time we return my legs are dead. I pack up camp and we drive away from the swarm of bugs. I try to stop at a few other points recommended by friends, but again no dogs are allowed in the areas. I drive on, wondering where the day will take me.

Pic of the day

Travelling companion:

Life is a beach

So, after I left Steve ad Melissa I headed north (duh!) along the coast.  I drove through Lumpoc, California which was festooned with murals. Here are the two that I liked the most:

 

I drove through farmland, which was a sensory overload for me. Bright green fields mixed with brown fields, and yellow mountains. The smells were great, me and the dog both stuck our heads out the window for a bit. How can you not love it?

 

Eventually it got to be that time when finding a spot for the night becomes the priority, and so I turned off at the first camping sign I saw: Pismo Beach/Oceano OHV area. Which apparently, is the last park where you can drive your vehicle right up on the sand. Which I did. Talk about an amazing view for camp:

 

It was cold and windy, the neighbors were loud and annoying, but I just sat with my camera through sunset and enjoyed the scenery:

 

Eventually I had to move my camp further up the beach, as the high tide crossed the ‘roadway’ and got closer to me than I was comfortable with. Then it was a night spent listening to an assorted mix of unpleasant music from the neighboring camp, and shouting for dogs let loose in the night. Entertaining, but not exactly restive. I woke up with the sun, worked out on the beach, then packed everything up and headed to Big Sur.

My favorite picture so far

A lovely coastal landscape along the Pacific Coast Highway:

Weekend with friends

This weekend was spent in Tustin, California. Not a destination for scenery, but instead one for friends. My foodie friend Melissa lives there with her hubby, and they invited me to hang out for a few days since I was passing through. The days were full of food and good conversation. Steve showed me how DJs use laptops in their mixing, which was super interesting. I could have watched him mix music for hours.

 

Melissa took me out to all sorts of food that I wouldn’t normally have the chance to try. We had Peruvian on Saturday, Vietnamese Pho (mine had tripe, filet, and tendon!) on Saturday night, and authentic Japanese ramen on Sunday:

 

It was a great weekend, and went by entirely too quickly. Alas – come Monday it was time to hit the road again. Thanks to both Steve and Melissa for showing me such a good time:

San Diego

I wake up to the dog barking. It is morning time and there are joggers passing by the truck. Scrappy attempts to protect his truck. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, pull the sun shades out of the windshield, and try to figure out where I am. I got lost trying to find a Wal-Mart with bad directions from a gas station attendant. I drive west, knowing that I will either hit a highway or the ocean. It is the ocean that I am after.

 

We find a highway and I steer the truck towards Ocean Beach. There is a dog beach there where Scrappy can sniff all the butts he pleases as I jog down the sand. The sun is barely up, but the beach is already spotted with dogs and their owners. We run, he sniffs, he humps things, he chases things, he plays in the surf. We are both happy, and cool. We explore all the way up the beach as I try to get a picture of the little man:

 

We walk out to the rocky side of the pier and watch the waves crash on the rocks:

 

I drive to a place called Sunset Cliffs where the parking areas are small and hard to get in and out of. I take a few photos before leaving:

 

We head north and try to find the coastal highway which will carry us to the border of this country. I pull over in Oceanside. A bit of a reverie from a vacation taken a few years ago. I swim in the ocean, I walk the dog all over the place, I eat lunch at the end of a very long pier. I meet a friend from high school for dinner. We go to a seafood place and I eat some tasty clam chowder. We walk a few steps away to watch the sun set:

 

After dinner she goes back home and I sit in Carlsbad wondering what to do. The sound of a live band reminds me that it is Friday night. I take the dog towards the sound and we watch a soul cover band for an hour. Then it’s back to the truck to sleep, with freight trains passing next to me every hour. After the first few they don’t even wake me.

An unbearable heat

So, one problem with the 4runner is that the air conditioning is non-functional. The cost to repair it exceeds my value for the comfort. Or so I thought, until I drove from Phoenix to the Salton Sea…

 

The plan – camp at the Salton Sea. Why? No clue, I’ve just never been there. And so I grabbed my map, and headed west, winding through farm land. As the hours passed the temperature rose. Three stops to buy ice to refill a cooler that couldn’t stay cool. Hours of not having a working phone because the thermal sensor shut it down. The dog throws up in the truck, he won’t eat, he only drinks if there is ice in the bowl. At times I feel as though throwing up might make me feel better too.

 

And water. I drink two and a half gallons throughout the day, and yet I don’t need to pee at all. All that water is escaping back out of my skin. We stop at the Glamis sand dunes simply to break the monotony. I take a picture:

 

As I drive out the truck gets stuck in the sand that has built up in the parking lot. I wasn’t paying enough attention, and now have to spend half an hour digging my tires out and placing brush underneath them. More sweat, and the aggravation of the situation sends even more water out of my eyes as tears. I am a leaking mess.

 

We get to the Salton Sea, but almost all of the campgrounds are closed. I finally find one that is open and pull in, relishing the thought of a cool swim. The sea looks great from a distance:

 

Up close though it smells of rotting fish. There are swarms of flies which are instantly on us, in my mouth and nose as I breath. I wander towards the water, but am stopped short. There is thirty yards of mud, algae, bird crap, and dead fish bodies which I will have to cross if I want to get wet. It is simply not worth it to me, the smell is horrible. Scrappy runs through the sucking mess to the water, when he returns he smells horrible too. We leave shortly thereafter.

 

With hopes of camping here shot down, I do not know where I am going. I simply follow the highway. We pass through date palm fields who seem to enjoy the smelly water. They are heavy with fruit:

 

 

The highway ends at a place called Thousand Palms. I pull into a walmart parking lot, planning to sleep there for the night. I cook a packet of ramen in the back of the truck and try to be happy:

 

I lay down to sleep, but can only toss and turn. The sweat is still seeping out of me, and soon I am rolling around in a puddle. It is too much for me to take. I decide to head for San Diego, it is 10:30 at night. Another look at the map, and asking somebody for directions.

 

And then something magical happens. As I follow the highway out of town it begins to wind upward. Upward into a range of mountains. As the elevation climbs the temperature drops, and soon I am comfortable. There is a scenic turnout which I stop at and breath in the cool air. I stop for a while, just looking down at the heat:

 

I’ve escaped! I am finally cool. The dog will finally drink water, and is able to stop panting. We drive with all the windows open until we reach the beach town. I get lost trying to get to the ocean, and end up parking on a side street and sleeping in the upright driver’s seat. It is 1:30 in the morning and I am tired. But we made it.

Day three of this crazy journey

The day consisted of driving from Kingman to Phoenix. It’s not a long drive, but I took my time – four hours. A stop at Burro Creek campground to eat lunch, and then finally down to Phoenix. I caught up with Matt and Jen, and had a nice relaxing evening. Some pics:

 

One of the many washes along the highway:

 

Burro Creek, with bridge in top left:

 

We tried to get to the water, but cows blocked out path:

 

And my awesome friend Matt: