Adventure 185: Crystal Cove State Park/Post A

Fric and Frac safely tucked into site 16.

We felt a little bit like the Clampetts as we swooshed down the California coast via Highway 101 onto Highway 405 onto Highway 73 onto Highway 1. We had our whole home on our backs just like a couple of Okie dust bowl refugees. It was really smooth except for the stretch through downtown Los Angeles when our speed dropped to twenty-five, and I have to say I didn't see that many travel trailers among the hot rods that zipped in and out of the lanes all around us. I had talked to a fellow traveler, and he suggested that I follow the big trucks. It worked pretty well. The issue is that the LA freeway system is very busy, and although it's well organized, lanes suddenly disappear and there isn't always room to squeeze fifty feet of vehicle into the next lane over. A driver unfamiliar to the area can easily get confused. Thank goodness for GPS, which gives a picture and a warning when a lane change is about to occur.. We arrived at the campground after a little bit of a rabbit maneuver because we didn't believe the tiny road up the canyon was actually the entrance to the park. We had to drive into Laguna and turning around was a little tricky because it seemed line every left turn lane ended quickly at the iron gate of some private drive. We finally pulled a quick U-turn through a parking lot, getting a luckly break in the traffic across three lanes because the turn we were attempting was quite tight. No worries. Frac just followed along, and didn't seem worse the wear from the loud scraping of the tow hitch against the pavement. It was all worth it. The campground sits high on a bluff overlooking the Pacific. The ranger made an exception and let us occupy or site even though we arrived two hours before approved check in time. He made a point of making sure to let us know that he was doing us a favor. I just put on the sweet Kansas smile I've learned from Judy and said, "Thank you, Sir." We're here for three days, and there is a plethora of sites to see as this part of the coast has been a popular recreation spot since the forties. We didn't quite kiss the ground when we arrived, but we most certainly expressed a prayer of gratitude for once again being granted traveling mercies. As always, I'm pretty sure I'm the luckiest guy on the planet, and for sure life is good, especially today. 


The view from our window this morning at Ocean Mesa. Another win for me made for a  grumpy Stumpy.

 Highway 405 flowing with midday traffic (I'd hate to see it busy).

 This cute little streamer is our neighbor to the east.

 The view from the bluff looking toward Crystal Cove.

 The same view from the beach.

 Come here if you can.

 The view from behind our trailer.

 California Hot Rod of the Day: Kel, you might be on to something. Hi Zigdy!

 Our first sunset at Crystal Cove.

 The obligatory selfie.

 Art shot of the day.

 Birds escorting this sail boat back to the harbor.

 Stumpy.

The bath house in the camping loop below us set against the evening sky! Oh, my!

Adventure 184: Ocean Mesa RV Resort/Santa Barbara

A third Airstream sits across the street.

Due to some Enronish like book keeping, which allowed the Wily Cager to include her off site wins during the week, we were playing this morning for all of the Morro Marbles. Fortunately, justice prevailed and I walked away with the marbles (Actually, five sand dollars and a sea shell). After a normal morning, we hooked up, pumped out, checked out, and slid neatly into the freeway traffic. Thankfully, we were granted traveling mercies, which meant we traveled in light traffic on good road with no incidents to report.  We were parked and settled at the Ocean Mesa RV Resort by about 12:30 P.M. We have a nice view of the ocean from our site, but today the sky was packed in under some low gray clouds. They muted the normal vastness of the ocean and all but eliminated the incredible blueness. Nevertheless, it was still near seventy as we sat at a bench table on El Capitan State Beach enjoying our lunch. For entertainment, we watched a pod of wet suited surfers play in the waves. After lunch, it was time for laundry (It's not all fun and games on the road). There are some details to attend to-you know-"Life is a full time effort". Just next door is a couple from Victoria B.C. (David and Hilka) who have a ten year old twenty-two foot Airstream. We noticed that one of their wheels was off on the their trailer, and I was taking pictures of it. Hilka, a vivacious and gregarious woman literally jumped from her trailer and pulled me into conversation. My shy self was no match for her. It turns out that the wheels on their trailer had begun to shred. Large chunks of hard rubber was missing from the tires and the steel cords could be seen. They didn't notice until they were parked. Luckily, the tires didn't completely shed while they traveled (Talk about traveling mercies!). They are staying here for a month, and they have arranged to buy new tires to replace their shredded treads. David, who hadn't changed the tires because the tread appeared good, has since done some research which suggests that trailer tires should be changed every four years or after high mileage. The problem is not the tread, but the hardening of the rubber. After we jibber jabbered about that stuff for a while, Hilka fixed us a cup of tea and we chatted like magpies for an hour or so. This is the first time, Judy and I have interacted with fellow campers in such a detailed way-it must be the Airstream connection. We immediately liked David and Hilka. Sadly, we're here for just one night. We drove into Santa Barbara for dinner (Excellent Mexican at the Agave Cafe). The Santa Barbara area is home to nearly one hundred thousand souls. The downtown is busy, full of Spanish flavor, and under a normal California sun, would be very pretty. It was less so under the gray drizzle of light rain. When we return to this area, we plan to explore the city in more detail. We will pray for traveling mercies again tomorrow as we take the Fric and Frac show through Los Angeles to Laguna Beach to get our freak flag flying. But that is then and this is now, and for now, Life is good, especially today.

Half of this fajita burrito will be lunch tomorrow. (Judy's Shrimp and Halibut Burrito was even bigger!)

 One of the shredded tires off of David and Hilka's trailer. You don't want this, Dewie!

 Art shot of the day: Eucalyptus bark.

Surfer dude making his way to the water.

Surfer dude catching the wave.

The dude shooting the curl.

 Stumpy mesmerized by the ripples of the surfer dudes.

 So this is what they did with the lunar lander.

Hot Rod of the Day.

El Capitan State Beach

Adventure 183: Morro Bay State Park/Post G

Sunset selfie on our last day in Morro Bay.

We attended mass this morning at St. Timothy's with the Rev. Edward J. Holterhoff presiding. It was the best church service we've been to in recent memory. I attribute it to the man. Father Holterhoff, a man in his late sixties, is clearly a man of God, a man of service, a man of compassion, and a man of reason. As he said when explaining how to behave after receiving communion, "I like reasons." During the service, he took time to say an uplifting word to the man who brought the offering basket to the altar. The man, who limped slightly toward the altar, returned with a smile and a bounce in his step after Father lay a hand on his shoulder and whispered a private word. He took pains to recognize the altar boys and girls, even going so far as to tease them with a quick game of keep away as they handed him the sacraments during the consecration. He also took time at the end of Mass to ask the very proud older brother (Who was about six) to show the congregation a picture of his newborn brother. But it was the homily that inspired me. He came down from the altar, placed his bible on the ledge of the first pew and interacted with the congregation as he preached on the word repent, which in this case wasn't a warning to improve, but instead an admonition to create in ourselves a change of heart. It was based on the passage of "fishers of men." He pointed out that the Apostles immediately made a life change. they dropped everything they knew and were comfortable with to follow Jesus. At one point, he said he couldn't understand why (Given our social problems) people wanted to stay in the status quo. He said, "Life requires constant effort." And among others, he used the example of someone trying to lose weight. He said diets don't work because they operate from a base of giving things up. Instead, he said the true idea of repentance is to make a change for the better. He asserted that the church is not about guilt and blame; rather, in its best form it's about inspiration and aspiration. I left Mass feeling both. After church, I cooked our normal Sunday breakfast of fried potatoes with onions and peppers. Today's egg delicacy was a scramble with feta, green onions, and fresh tomato. We also polished off the last two slices of the Little Red Hen's bread. Then I watched Coach K get his one thousandth win. Even Duke haters have to like Coach K. For our last day here, we drove out to Montana de Oro State Park, which is about fifteen miles down the coast. It's not suitable for RV camping nor is the beach really suitable for water sports, but it's another lovely section of the coast nonetheless. For a final treat, we caught the last sunset of our time in Morro Bay (Our fifth in a row). God can really paint! As an aside, Stumpy would have to skunk me just to tie, so I think it's safe to safe to say that I have won the Morro Bay State Park Open. Tomorrow, we're off to Santa Barbara. We'll pray for traveling mercies. Without reservation, we can say that life is good, especially today.

 The California Hot Rod of the Day.

This is attached to her rear end. (Jaguar XJ4)

 The beach below Montana de Oro campground.

 It's a small, rugged crescent. Not really a swimmer's beach.

 There goes Stumpy walking off into the sunset.

A brush stroke from the hand of God.

 Art shot of the day.

 A final look. Red sky at night, sailor's delight.

Adventure 182: Morro Bay State Park/Post F

Morro Bay Estuary

Five miles on the bike was a tad bit too far. We suffered through a sleepless night. As a result, we spent a lazy morning watching KU handle Texas. During the game I pretended to be a physical therapist and rubbed Judy's knee, which helped. After lunch, we joined a thousand or so of our newest friends down at the beach. We walked about two thousand steps because it helps to loosen the knee up. Needless to say, Judy is wishing she was through this part. It helped her attitude to leave me in the stink hole this morning. I'm ahead by one with three to play. This evening, we went to a blues show put on by the San Luis Obispo Blues Society. About five hundred people, our age or older, filed into the Vets Center to hear a local band (Code Blues) warm up the headliner (Sugar Ray Rayford). Both were excellent, and Judy's knee held up for nearly three hours before we drove back to Morro Bay. We were wide awake from the concert, so we watched the Zags crush Pacific (Thanks DVR). They are playing well. Judy went to bed as it is a little past midnight, so I'm reflecting a little bit. January 24th (Yesterday by on half hour) would have been Annie's (My late wife) sixty-fourth birthday today. I imagine at this age she would be slender like her sister Rose, and her black Irish hair would have at least a streak or two of gray, or maybe even fully gray like her sister, Claire. Her smile would still be radiant, and I'm sure she would have met the day with the unguarded optimism she did every day I knew her. I most likely wouldn't be on the central coast of California. Instead, we would have enjoyed time with any number of  her O'Brien siblings. Saturday, Steve and Elizabeth carried on our tradition of visiting her grave site. They took Grandma Chotsie and made a visit to Jack's grave as well. I miss many things about Anne. I miss her love. I miss her smile. I miss the way she organized everything. I miss her sense of family. I miss her Snicker doodles. I miss the way her hair would fall across her face. I miss the lightning quick way she could get angry and I miss being amazed that the raunchiest sailor talk ever could come from such a sweet woman.  She was just that, a sweet, compassionate person. I just miss her. The night she died, I coined the phrase, "Life is good, especially today." I live each day grateful for the opportunity because I truly believe that no one is promised tomorrow.

 Kids taking sailing lessons.

 Morro Bay Power

 Another fifty cars were parked to the right of us.

 California Hot Rod of the day.

 The view from the museum.

 We saw quite a few Monarch Butterflies today.

 Art shot of the day.

 Get ready for the blues.

 Code Blues Band.

 The couple in the forefront were quite good.

 Sugar Ray Rayford. Boy what energy!

 His lead guitarist, also quite good.

Adventure 181: Morro Bay State Park/ Post E

A visionary of persistence it seems.

Ahh, the pleasing smell of skunk in the air, that is when it's the Cager who's doing the stinking. Like the tide in Morro Bay, our fortunes ebb and flow. This morning my luck was in full flow, so much so that the Wily Cager, exasperated, let go a a screeching plea, "Will you quit singing that dozolito song?!" I complied, but retorted, "If I were Douglas, I'd sing another verse even louder." The bottom line is that I'm one game up with three left to play. After a restful night in which Stumpy slept until 5:30 A.M without the aid of ambien, we enjoyed our usual breakfast of oatmeal, but this time it was accompanied with a just picked orange and one slice of honey wheat bread and one slice of whole wheat walnut that we bought from a petite little redhead at the market yesterday. I didn't notice it then, but Judy told me that her bakery was called "The Little Red Hen". She, a vivacious if tiny redhead, was one of the vendors who sold out quickly. I can see why as the bread is delicious. For today's adventure, we drove about twenty miles south to the Bob Jones Trail. Bob Jones was a conservationist who spent most of his life trying to preserve the San Luis Obispo creek and its wetlands. The trail, five miles of winding pavement curls itself along the creek from just south of San Luis Obispo to the beach at Avila. Ironically, (Or maybe not) the trail is the only public access through a swath of private condos and resort properties. Once at the beach, a gentle half moon crescent opens to the Pacific. Today, the temperature was near seventy, so the beach was speckled with shirtless surfer boys, sunbathing bikini girls, and the ever so present wrinkly retirees. Along the beach embarcadero, twinkling in the afternoon sun, was a plethora of sidewalk cafes, T-shirt shops, and salt water taffy stores. The clink of glassware mingled with quiet conversations, the intermittent squawks of sea gulls, and the persistent roar of the surf.  The distance we covered on the tandem was 5.1 miles at a top speed of 7 mph. This is five times what Stumpy has attempted since surgery. We'll see tonight if the effort was too much. Back in town, we stopped at a local place called Giovanni's for an excellent halibut fish and chips lunch. At their fish market next door, we purchased a piece of fresh fish we plan to cook for dinner. On the way back to the trailer, we detoured through town long enough to find St. Timothy's Catholic Church where we plan to attend mass Sunday morning. Judy said she didn't realize that there was a Saint Timothy. I said, "You're looking at him." Her reply has been redacted for the sake of the children. And then suddenly, it was just about sunset. I've heard it said that some people don't know what they'll do after they retire. So far, our days play away like the string on a child's kite. We flitter this way and that as the wind blows, all the while turning our faces toward the warmth of the day. Truly, life is good, especially today.

 The trail is just five miles round trip, but plans are in the works to extend it into San Luis Obispo.

 The trail is shared by the resort golfers who tee off at several points across the creek.

We also saw quite a few young moms pushing strollers and just as many older folks just walking.

 The quintessential California beach apparatus, but no players today.

 A view from the pier back toward the waterfront shops.

 Tile work along the beachfront sidewalk.

 California Hot Rod of the day. I think the owner's name was Kelvin.

Art shot of the day.

Herons lined up for an evening meal.

The sunset taken from the kitchen table as seen peeking through our bedroom window.