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.