What's that I smell?

Remember from high school Geometry, the shortest distance between to points is a….?  Well, when roads are laid out and maps are drawn, it makes perfect sense, given the landscape.  So as we headed west on our last day of driving back from the central coast of California, our straight line from west to east (I-40) intersected with a semi-straight, but bendable line (US 54) that sort of diagonaled home towards KC…the fastest route according to Google Maps.  With all this data, when planning our return trip home, I split the drive up into 3 days, with our last night ending in Dalhart, Texas. 

Having left the Grand Canyon that morning, we drove and drove and drove, until we intersected with US 54 at Tucumcari, NM.  From there, our road bubble shrunk from a 4-lane highway to a 2-laner.  And it soon became apparent that it was a popular route for the truckers as well. 

With miles to go before I sleep (about 90), we headed northeast into the cooling night air.  After traveling what seemed to be 900 miles, in an area where there were no lights as far as you could see in any direction (other than oncoming traffic) and knowing there were deer behind each mile marker waiting to cross the road in front of us, we started counting down the miles to Dalhart.  Our Best Western awaited us.

With 11 hours and counting on the road, we were more than ready for the welcome mat to roll out in front of us, like the yellow brick road.  But this wasn’t Kansas…we were in Texas.  The first hint of our welcome had our noses wrinkling up and us reaching for the recirculate button on the ventilation controls.  Still, with very little light, if any at all, it became apparent we were hip deep in stockyard country.  We had to be surrounded by feedlots.  Had we rolled the windows down, we could have heard the cows mooing to us, “Don’t’ slow down, go faster, faster!” 

We eventually acclimated to an occasional mild heaving sensation, coming from our digestive cores, as the strength of the stench began to mellow.  The vents were reopened in hopes of washing away any remnants of bovine-ness still hiding throughout the truck.  And about that time we rolled into Dalhart and began straining to see a Best Western sign. 

Failing to take into consideration that we traveled across two time zones, it was now two hours later than we felt.  At this point, we didn’t feel like eating much, but if we were to find food, it was getting late and needed to do it soon.  We finally spotted the hotel, but had to negotiate the streets under construction to get there.  The last intersection was a stop light that could have easily been as busy as one in L.A. or Chicago during rush hour, but instead of Mercedes and BMS’s we were waiting in line with semi’s and pickups.

We turned the corner, crossed a section of road that was being reconstructed, missed knocking over the orange cones marking the way to the entrance, parked the truck and trailer, and shut the truck off for the first time since it became dark.  I let out a big sigh and headed in to the office to check in for the night.

I was greeted by a nice young Indian woman behind the counter and a line of what appeared to be construction workers, waiting to get their rooms for the night too.  The young woman concluded our check-in by offering us earplugs, due to the fact that train tracks were near and very active, day and night!  I unsquinched my forehead and left the office ecstatic we were that much closer to getting off our butts, closing our eyes, and evidently ignoring the fact that trains don’t sleep.

We navigated our parking spot and lugged our necessities up to our room for the night, then turned around and headed back out for a bite to eat.  Our options were limited, not only by the road construction, but the time as well.  As the clock read about 8:30, we opened the door and walked into a Dairy Queen a short walk away.  Accepting the permanent level of cow in the air, we kept our dinner down and headed back to our room, but not before noticing the best sign ever.  It belongs to a bank, next to the Dairy Queen.  It made the smell in the air seem fragrant, for the 100-yard stroll back to our room. 

Any question about where we are?

Makes me almost want to live there!  If I close my eyes and hold my breath.

I failed to mention to Beth that the earplugs, which she had not noticed on the desk, came compliments of the house.  But I did bring it to her attention as I headed in for a shower.  Her reaction was one that has probably been repeated as many times as couples have checked-in to this perfect storm of sensory displeasure.  As it turns out, that busy intersection nearby, viewable from our window, stayed busy all night, as semi’s braked and accelerated all night long.  Those sounds, in concert with the intermittent train horn blasts, made a good nights sleep a challenge, but we managed to get some rest, just not sure how much.

Before leaving Poo-Poo Town, as Beth refers to it, we hoped that the free breakfast would somehow make up for a few of the hours of sleep we had lost.  I should have realized that when I poured the waffle batter into the waffle iron, which was the shape of Texas, that nothing could be that good.  As with most all-you-can-eat breakfast bars, I feel compelled to try almost everything once.  And in this case I am afraid the whole Dalhart experience was tainted by the first and seemingly endless whiff of Poo-Poo Town from the night before, as I voiced my disapproval to Beth of everything I attempted to eat that morning, except for the oatmeal.  I take that back, the OJ and the 2% milk were very good.

After checking out and letting the office know that our toilet didn’t seem to be bolted to the floor very securely, so they wouldn’t charge that to our “incidentals,” we packed up one more time and headed home.  I couldn’t wait to get home and check our credit card on line, to see if we were the proud new owners of a rocking toilet in Dalhart, Texas that could put a baby to sleep.  So far, so good!

My Zen from Home:  It's good to go away for awhile and experience other people, places, and things.  And even though it's good to keep in mind, home is wherever you are...it's good to be back home.

Disclaimer:  There is no ill will meant towards the residents and town of Dalhart.  It is what it is.  After a long day traveling, we were hoping for a good nights sleep.

The Road Home

Early Monday morning, we pointed the truck east and disappeared into the morning fog, as we left Morro Bay behind.  Another house sit in the books, sand still working its way from places that will furrow my brow for weeks to come, and the question of who will be Morro Bay's next mayor unanswered for another week.  We carry with us the people we met, the souvenirs that would not let us leave without them, and a little of the central coast way of life.  

A little oatmeal breakfast from a vintage looking Mickey D's in Paso Robles.

On tap for us now, was a three day drive through some of the most desolate landscape I've traveled through.  But it was for a good cause...2 nights at the south rim of the the Grand Canyon.  The first night was spent in the Taj Mahtoyhauler, where we survived a night in the low thirties.  After letting a pricey breakfast buffet settle in our tummies, we caught a shuttle to the South Kaibab trailhead.  With a lunch packed and water stored, we headed down, so Beth could get a feel for the canyon she visited as a kid and the one I'd told her stories of.  After an hour of down, we found a great lunch spot, complete with entertainment...a squirrel.  The vista was spectacular, but the squirrel was insufferable.  Knowing how to work his audience, he earned some cracker crumbs from which he made a meal.  We took a crazy number of pictures, mostly of the squirrel, then headed up.  We did ooo and ahh  appropriately at the insurmountable rugged beauty we found ourselves surrounded by, discussed some science, and breathed heavily for the hour and a half it took us to retrace our steps back out.  That night we traded the trailer for a cabin on the edge and ended the day with a sunset, a meal, and a warm bed!

Our camp site at the canyon.

The mule train that delivered the mail and
groceries to Phantom Ranch at the bottom this
morning, now hauls out the trash.

These mules in a word are...incredible!

Uh-huh!

Beth can't resist, but...

...later at the top, found the error of her ways!!!

One step at a time.
No twelve step program here!

A couple of posers.

Soo, Good!

Today was spent on I-40 East in the desert southwest, watching mile after mile of empty openness pass before our eyes and wondering, "Why would anyone choose to live out here?"  But more power to them, it's just not for me.

Tomorrow we return and reacquaint ourselves to our home.  No animals to look after, no wondering if there is something else we should go see or do, and no more listening to the waves crash onto the beach in the distance.  Finding our normal again, restocking the cupboards, and finding our family and friends all over again.

My Zen from the Road:  

Parting Shots

The time has come.  Beth is enroute from Springfield, MO to join me for our cruise home. She will hit the central coast of California just before midnight and we will turn around and hit the road before the sun comes up after a few short hours of shut-eye.  But...before we go, I had a few days with Betty and some time cruising around town on my bike.  Here are some parting shots of Morro Bay...

I am a softy for animals behind the wheel.

These VW Westfalia's (Westy's) are all over the place, the older the better.

The Presidential election is around the corner, but that also means my sister's run for Mayor of Morro Bay is coming up as well.  Through the grape vine, she seems to have a good chance...stay tuned.

One of the flyers Betty is taking door to door.

Here, she is about to go on the air with the Dave Congalton talk radio show in SLO.

Walking the neighborhoods with Betty, I got to see such different landscaping.  Some crazy looking flora and I couldn't relocate some of the craziest, but here are a few.

This one could be a Missouri bloomer, but I am into my water drops on flowers.

My last Morro Bay day I cruised around town before the sunset, had some fish and chips and chowder, and saw some witches on the water.

The jetty protecting the bay saw some bigger wave action and drew the tourists
out for photo ops...not me but other tourists.

Since Betty kept me full, I had to get a kids meal for dinner.  I went to the best
place on the embaradero.  I knew this because it said so on the side of the building!
It was very good!

After dinner I cruised the shops one more time
and saw this in a window.
(Thought of you KS!)

So I'm minding my own business, walking down the embarcadero, I look out to the bay and notice a black spot in the distance on the water.  I waited and waited and finally the hair in the back of my neck raised and I got chills as if a cold wind blew right through me and the following pics tell the story...

The black spot on the water turned into a witch on a stand up paddle board.

They multiplied...

Then they came after me and I went the other way!  I don't mess with witches.

The "Rock," being the last of the "9 Sisters" (or first depending on your orientation) is the "plug" that gets most of the attention of the sisters.  It is just such a unique landmark and I couldn't stop taking photos of it, so here are my final shots before placing my lens cover on last time while visiting the west coast...for now.

Okay, this does not have the Rock in it, but it's just out of the frame to the left.

So long Rock, plug, Sister #9 (or #1?)...til next time.


My Zen from the Road:  My time here started with the thought that this is a good place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here.  Why you might wonder?  The water, the surrounding hill, the sunsets, the fresh produce that is EVERYWHERE...  It is just so different from what I am use to...the architecture (lots of flat roofs), the landscaping (lots of succulents), and the sand that seems to be everywhere and in everything.  Well, after six weeks, this place has grown on me and my attitude has softened.  I could live here.  What has kept a for sale sign from popping up in my front yard in Missouri, is a small-ish house in my sisters neighborhood, that would most likely sell for $90,000 in MO, goes for half a million here in the Golden State!  That, I can't wrap my brain around.  But I am glad I was able to open my mind a bit to consider the possibilities.


Bonus...
There seems to be no one that my sister does not know here (almost).  I can only associate my sister's time here with my time as a teacher.  After that many years teaching, its hard to go out around town and not see a former student.  Anyway, one of Betty's neighbors down the street, had a limb that fell from a tree next to their house and we went down to help them clean it up.  It turns out that this couple has been in the area longer than Betty, by a fair amount.  It turns out they have some property up in the hills around Cayucos, just north of Morro Bay.  We were invited to take a quick jaunt to check it out.  Along the way, as Betty and Bill visited about the goings on around town, I was schooled on some of the history we were touching as we headed inland a bit.  Both properties had great views of the water and relatively close to town.  The photo below was from the peak of their larger property.  It was breath taking and the photo does not do it justice.  But what was cooler to me is that Bill, was the catalyst that began stand up paddle boarding back in the day.  I've not rubbed elbows with too many people (none) that were at the beginning of something that "took off," but since it involved something that I am into, it made it that much more special to have crossed paths.

The Rock is left of center, in the clouds.

Butterflies, Biking, Beaches, and Byes

While visiting here on the west coast, Beth and I have done almost as much as a body can do without establishing residency here in SLO County, but look hard enough and there is always more and some to repeat! 

So, back to Pismo we go, not to In-N-Out Burgers, but to check out the return of the Monarch butterflies.  They love their butterflies around here!  Thousands and thousands hit this miniscule spot on the map, a small grove of Eucalyptus trees, just south of Pismo Beach, escaping the colder temps from whence they came.  They winter here, along with a few other precious places along the coast, from late October through February.  This variety of Monarch has a lifespan of 6 mos., instead of the shorter 6 weeks for common Monarchs.  Even still, the butterflies that are here will never return, but their offspring will…gotta love science.  When clustered in the trees, they form small butterfly sheets while literally “hanging out.“  It offers them warmth and safety from the wind.  When they hang, they overlap their wings to form a more sturdy “structure,” like shingles on a roof.  (That’s all the rephrasing from FAQ’s on their website and Butterfly Grove docents!).  Go Monarchs!

An entry in the "CowParade" (when cities sponsor art on cow decoys and
spread them around town to be viewed) in SLO county.  This ButterCow,
found in Pismo, championing the Monarchs return.

Me at the grove and I am really not wearing a butterfly hat...not really into that!

The butterflies are not yet here in these numbers yet, but I borrowed a photo
to give you the idea of scale when I say thousands and thousands and thousands...

Another attraction that sadistically drew me back time and time again was riding my bike in Morro Bay State Park, where Beth and I did our first hike/climb.  After the first time I rode a few trails and had to get off and push my bike up a few steep sections, it became a challenge to not get off my bike and hammer it out.  Hammer it out I did and have ridden it a handful of times without getting off, but breathing like an asthmatic in a field of pollinating flowers.  I’m sure I will do it again before heading home, cause I evidently like breathing hard.  I also road my bike, with a motor, back to Paso Robles.  The urge came from Highway 46.  A winding, climbing, picturesque byway that leads to wine country.  And the hunt for a particular kind of wine for a friend back home.  Plus I had to ride fast, because for the second time since we've been here, rain was on its way.  So beauty + curves + speed (but not too fast) + a purpose = a memorable two hour ride!

One last look at the reason I breath heavily...to get to this view!

Can you find Tiki rock?  It's almost like
being on Easter Island.

My wine hunt lead me to Castoro Cellars,
that happened to also have a cow on parade.
This one obviously having gone to a few
tastings and now showing his Frisbee prowess
among the vines.

Vine-lined walkway leading to my treasure.

My motorcycle awaits while I throw a little disc with the Winecow.  So good!

We said goodbye to Mimi and our housesit, as she found her way home from France and took over care of her 3 babies (cats) and settled back into life at sea level.  I also said goodbye to Beth as she traveled back home to spend time with her son as they celebrate Parent’s Weekend where he goes to school, Halloween, and Drew’s 21st birthday!  Sounds like a trifecta that will lead to a little hair of the dog (he says out of jealousy)!  When we travel, our time is so concentrated together, that when Beth is not there, there is definitely an empty space around me.  Because of our differences, I feel we balance each other out.  So while she is gone, I can easily say that I am out of balance!  But in a few days, I will again be balanced.  In the meantime, it’s kinda hard walking around lopsided!  

Leaving from the SLO airport, Beth places her
baggage on a cart, where the passengers are
the baggage handlers.

Never saw a pilot, so maybe the passengers drew straws for that job.  That's
a small airpot!  I think the fuel tanker had the QT logo on its' side!

The beach continues to be a source of surprises.  We go for the sun (Beth), relaxation (because we can), and the unknown.  One day from a distance (not on the beach) we noticed a helicopter going back and forth in one area.  Turns out there was a shark sighting. Another day we were on the beach and a surfer dude came in for a quick alcoholic hit before heading back out.  His stash was close to us, so we (Beth) started up a quick Q and A about surfing, then he headed back to join his buddies.  When asked about sharks he said, "Yeah, there out there." and headed back out.  And one day, four horses crossed in front of us, because they can.  I now get the saying, "Life's a Beach!"

Beth seeks the sun, I seek not the sun...
can you tell by our towel positions?

In the last few days since Beth's departure, I headed for the campground to try out our trailer turned Taj Mahtoyhauler.  I added a fold down bed in the cargo trailer, we haul the motorcycle in, to make it more versatile.  Translation...cheaper to camp while on the road, while dragging the motorcycle along for kicks.  It also stores the bicycles and tubs of stuff.

Setting up camp in Morro Bay State Park.  Just so happens that across the
street was a school group (20+)  on a campout.  Thank goodness for quiet
hours starting at 10 pm!

Sliding screen door (sort of) to protect from
bugs, which there are none at this time of year.

We experienced food from Costco to an upscale downtown bistro.  The SLO Costco was unbelievable!  Not a parking spot within a hundred yards in all directions.  Due to a climate made in heaven, their "food court" was outside the building with more tables than a decent sized restaurant.  Four or so lines, at least 10 deep, Beth and I decided to partake and waited for that good Costco menu to come into focus.  Once it did, we chose pizza.  Once we got seated, and blotted off the grease, it was doable.  Once was enough!

The photo does not do it justice, probably due to the number of people
in line blocking out the sun.  But in the shadows are throngs of starving
Costco patrons...like us that day.  I think we ate for under $5. Not bragging,
just sharing.

To the other end of that spectrum, we went to Novo, in the heart of downtown SLO.  A friend of Beth's from San Francisco (formerly Lee's Summit), and now mine, gave us this gift after visiting back in the summer, knowing we would be in the area now...so thoughtful!  Unlike visiting the Costco food court, I traded my shorts for pants and my t-shirt for one with a collar.  Even though we spent 20 times as much at Novo, you might have guessed it tasted 20 times better as well.

Would you believe I paid to have the whole restaurant to ourselves.
(Stop laughing Beth!)

The last bit of a chocolate concoction we
took home to Betty.  By the looks of the plate,
you can tell we worked it over pretty well!

After dinner we strolled into a historic mission
getting ready for Mass.

My Zen from the Road:  With time here running out, I am starting to think of what I would like to do before heading east.  I am finding it revolves around the things I don’t have back home…the plants and animals, sand, and water (massive amounts of it).  The plants here are so, so different…succulent-like.  Some of the angriest looking plants, thorny and unfriendly-ish, have the most delicate, colorful, and surprisingly unique looking flowers shooting out of the middle of them.  The animals of course are the likes of sea otters, elephant seals, and whales.  Different from the norm is good!  And finally, the beach…the sand and crashing waves provide the perfect environment to read and of course that leads to sleep (for me anyway)!  Oh…and of course…Betty.  Like the others on my list, seeing her in her element makes our visit here a little more special.  All will be missed and sought out again.

Down the street from our housesit, sunsets over the bay...