The Oregon Trail--Part VII--The Oregon Coast

Thursday
October 14

It was an exciting day, our first actual day in Oregon! As usual I was up with the sun and had the coffee brewing and almost ready when Nancy got up. We ate the rest of everything we had in the cooler for breakfast, did the dishes, took the tent down, and packed up the car. We were on our way out of the park at about 9 am. And to tell the truth, after three nights in a tent, I was ready for a TV and at least a queen size bed again.

We headed north on 101. The scenery was about the same, mountains and lots of trees, with a bridge over a river now and then. There is not much else between Arcata and the Oregon border. Oh Ya! There is one last tourist stop a few miles north! We had to stop there because there were giant statues of Paul Bunyan and his Blue Ox Babe. I always thought that Bemidji, Minnesota was the official home of Paul and his Ox. My dad took me fishing in that area when I was a small child and we stopped to see them. I bet they were in Bemidji first! Anyway, The California editions were beautiful statues. They were part of the wonder at the "Trees of Mystery" which included a very nice large gift shop, rest room facilities, and a tour of the "Trees of Mystery" which was a hike among some very interesting redwoods, and which also included a short "chairlift" ride in the more steeper part of the trail. We didn't take the hike because we didn't think we had the extra time, plus as "natives" we had seen our share of redwoods. We did stop at the gift shop, strolled through their museum of indian "artifacts" and art objects for sale, bought Matt a couple of post cards, and used the rest rooms. I also asked a gal in the shop how Paul and his Ox had gotten all the way out here from Minnesota. It was apparent that she was no expert on Paul. She thought he had probably walked out to California after he cut down all the trees in Minnesota and was looking for something bigger for his axe. I thought she had a point! I love tourist traps, and the "Trees of Mystery" is one not to be missed. Next time I will take the hike!

We were again on our way and it wasn't long before we saw a sign which said "Welcome to Oregon". I noticed immediate differences as we passed the border. Hwy 101 became a two lane road and pretty much stayed that way except for passing lanes on some hills. There was a sign with a picture of a seat belt placed along Oregon's hwys which said, "Click it up or tick et up!". Price signs at gas stations indicated that gas was much less expensive. My last fill up in California had been 2.59/gal, and the first station I saw in Oregon was 2.05/gal. Wow! All due to taxes and differences in emmisions requirements. Also, it was against the law to pump your own gas in Oregon, so there was always an attendant to do it for you. Now that seemed a bit behind the times, since California has been all self serve for a long time!! The topper was that Oregon has no sales tax. It took a bit of time to get used to! When something was priced at $10, it was just $10, and not $10.75 as it would have been back in San Diego! That was cool!!

Hwy 101 turned back to the coast as we entered Oregon and the ocean was again in sight far below as the hwy wound around the bluffs along the coast. A few miles past the border we stopped at a tourist trap which had some "Seal Caves". There was a nice gift shop. Admission to the caves far below was 10-12 dollars, and there was an elevator to take you down. But the attendant said the seals were not there at the moment. We see alot of seals in San Diego, so we bought a couple of post cards and jumped back in the car.

A few miles more and there was a scenic overview that looked interesting so I whipped across the hwy to the parking area. There was a short pathway down to an overlook and a great view of a couple of large natural stone bridges over a small inlet with a blowhole which shot water up in the air 10-20 ft with each surge of the waves. The Natural Bridges was a great stop!!

We stopped for lunch at Coos Bay. It is the largest city on the southern Oregon Coast, and in the late 19th and early 20th Century was a busy port due to the lumber industry. At that time there were not any roads or railroads leading to the outside in that part of the state due to the rugged terrain. So everything came up and down rivers to Coos Bay and out to San Francisco to the South and as far as Portland and Seattle to the North. It still has some port facilities, but with roads and railroads it is not so active. It did have a quilt store however. And it still has a large lumber mill on the south end of the bay.

We walked around a bit in the old downtown, and stopped at a friendly cafe which had a number of soup and sandwich combos for lunch. The menu and the decor had an "African" theme, which I thought was very odd for a place like Coos Bay. The menu was strictly American deli, but had sandwiches with names drawn from African themes. (B'wana's favorite wild pastrami on rye?) There was African art even hanging on the walls! I talked to the waitress a bit (between her hot flashes? She had to take off her sweater!) and it turned out that the owner was from South Africa, had immigrated, and ended up in Coos Bay running a deli cafe. She was in the kitchen cooking!!(Making Water Buffulo Stew no doubt!)

After lunch, I left Nancy at the quilt shop and headed off to walk around town a bit. I found a couple antique shops to walk through. It is interesting how antiques sometimes reflect the area they are in. One of the shops was filled with nautical stuff as well as old ship building tools which probably were collected in the Coos Bay area.

I went back to pick Nancy up, but she was not at the shop. I walked through and knew why. It was a walk in and walk out! Nothing interesting there for her! So I sat on a bench on the corner and 15 minutes later she turned up. She had found a nice crafts and art gallery and had spent some time talking with the owner--and of course had bought a little something as well.

We headed north towards Bandon. Most of the area was rural, and it was interesting to note that there were shops here and there along the road selling things carved and made out off Myrtle wood, which seemed to be the local "special" tourist staple, and that the area's main agricultural product were cranberry's grown in bogs somewhere out there off the hwy!

We were soon in Bandon and drove through the business district until we reached the "Olde" touristy part of town, which was by the marina. It had many renovated buildings with cafes, galleries, and gift shops catering to "people like us"(tourists)! Nancy's guide book provided some direction regarding places to stay, and as we drove the waterfront we espied the Sea Star Inn, which her guide book described as part "hostel" and part "hotel". It looked like our kind of place--and we got a room overlooking the marina that had a queen size bed with cable TV, and a bathroom with a shower. Perfect!

We settled in and went for a walk. The weather had changed and had become more "brisk". It was Oregon weather and just to Nancy's liking.

We went exploring and here was a quilt store a block away! Nancy walked in and out of this one too! We walked into a boutique and I struck up a conversation with the slightly elderly shopkeeper. She had lived in encinitas years ago and had owned a shop in Luecadia which her son now had as his business. Nancy knew the shop and thought she knew her son!! Small world! I told her we would say hello to him when we got home. I wonder if we will remember. We checked out the two or three resturants in the area and decided to make reservations at a small French oriented cafe where they brewed their own beer and ale. Down the street just behind our inn we found the best coffee place in town. They opened at 6 am and ground their own beans daily! So we were set for the morning. We bought a cheap bottle of wine and went back to the room to have "cocktails" while we dressed for dinner. The dinner was pretty good and the beer was fair, but then it was hard to compete with Nancy's gourmet camp dinners.

The bed was real comfortable compared to my air mattress! As usual, I fell asleep while Nancy was still watching TV.

The Oregon Trail--Part VI--A Day in Arcata

October 13, 2004
Wednesday

The trick in making an air mattress comfortable and stable is not to fill it up with so much air, so it will conform to the body's contours a bit. Then, instead of trying to balance on top of it, you can sink into it. Just make sure there is enough air to keep you off the ground. It had been to long since I had been camping. But it seemed that I had adjusted, since the second night was more comfortable and I slept more, even though I made my customary late night hike to the loo. The weather was still summerlike when I woke in the morning, and with the same routine, started the stove and the coffee pot going. Nancy was soon up and the frying pan was again a'sizzling.

Today was our day to spend roaming around Arcata and the vicinity. If we had time we would get to a beach for a couple of hours so I could check out the surf for fish.

By around 9:30 am we were ready to head off on our adventures for the day. We stopped at the Post office in Trinidad to mail Matt some postcards, and then headed towards Arcata. Nancy also wanted to check out the small town of McKinleyville which was just north of Arcata and on our way from Trinidad, so we took the exit off 101 when it came up. She said there was a quilt store there. I thought that McKinleyville would be a bump in the road, but as we approached it was apparent that there was alot going on with newer shopping centers and housing construction all along the road. It seemed to be a pretty busy place, with a fairly sizeable high school, and alot of businesses along the main drag! Nancy didn't know where the Quilt shop was, but it seemed to be a place where we did not want to stop, so we just drove through and back on 101 into Arcata.

Arcata is a college town. Humbolt State University is located there and has a very positive cultural impact on a town which is not much bigger in population that the student body of the school. Because of its location, the University has excellent cirriculums in Forestry Management and in Marine Biology as specialty areas of study. Nancy likes college towns and it was on her list of possible retirement communities.

We stopped in the middle of town and parked at the central square. The square was a full city block, around which all the old business section of the town had been originally built. Many of the early buildings had been renovated and restored and were still in use. The biggest building was an old hotel, which had been restored and still entertaned guests. In the center of the square was a suitably handsome statute of President William McKinley, in a presidential pose high upon a pedestal, blessing all within his view. It was commissioned by a weathy resident who had met him in 1901 and admired him as the "first modern President". In 1905 he commissioned a San Francisco artist to produce the statue for the kingly sum of $15000. Unfortunately The statue was almost lost in the great 1906 earthquake, but was rescued from the foundry by some passersby just before the foundry burned to the ground. It was shipped to Eureka in May of 1906, trucked to Arcata and installed in the square on July 4, 1906 with over 2000 visitors in attendance. Humbolt State campus is walking distance to the Square, and the statue is a rallying point for all the Humbolt State University students to stage protests against the latest "injustice de jour".

Just off the square was a quilt fabric shop! While Nancy spent her time sorting through all the colors, I walked around town a bit, hit the bank's ATM for some cash, and spent time sitting on a bench in the square having a silent conversation with President "Bill".

I went back to pick up Nancy, took some pictures of her and the Quilt Girls and we were off to explore the town and area a bit. I wanted to check out the golf courses and she wanted to check out the University. We drove through the south part of town where the "country club" was located. It was a nice area with lots of trees. The country club had been built as a draw by the developer. I stopped and got the material for membership. It seemed expensive for what it was. I was not impressed. We headed over to the University. It was just on the North side of 101 just a few blocks from the downtown area. There was a pedestrian bridge over Hwy 101 so students could walk from the school to the downtown area in safety, plus it probably helped the merchants alot with student business. The University was built on a wooded hillside. There were not alot of roads we could take to drive around the campus much, and after 10 minutes of making u-turns at the end of a number of cul de sacs we decided we had seen enough and headed north towards Trinidad again. There was another public course north of town, and of course, I had to stop there to check it out. It was short, under 6000 yards, and wasn't very appealing, althogh it was getting good play for early afternoon. All in all, the golf experiece potential in the area left alot to be desired.

Nancy wasn't giving up on McKinleyville, and we took another road into town past the small airport, but it was to no avail. The lost quilt shop did not appear and we ended up at the same busy shopping center.

I had stopped earlier at a local fishing bait shop in Trinidad and bought some shrimp for bait, and got a recommendation for a beach to try up north of where we were camped, so we decided to head for the surf. It was a pretty drive, and about 7-8 miles on 101 north of Pete's Point State Park (where we were camped) there was the sign pointing to a small county park with great access to a broad beach of black sand, obviously washed down rivers from volcanic sources like Mt. Shasta far inland.

The road into the park was about 1/2 mile long, and on the way we saw a small herd of Roosevelt Elk sharing a pasture with two horses. There were two big males with very large racks, so we stopped and looked through the binoculars for a few minutes. (It was a big day for presidents--both McKinley and Roosevelt left impressions all in one day!)

While it was a balmy day for the area, the wind was still brisk off the ocean. It was jacket weather out on the beach. We hauled our beach chairs and my fishing equipment a ways down the beach to a likely spot and set up shop. The beach dropped into the surf quite abruptly, and the waves hitting the beach were heavy and looked angry. It did not look like a friendly beach where one could wade into the surf without taking the chance of being dragged out to sea. It was very different than the shallow beaches of Southern California where one can usually wade out 20 ft or so into the surf to fish. So I stayed on the beach, and heaved my line as best I could into the stiff breeze. It didn't get out into the surf very far, but sometimes surf perch are right in close to shore. I kept losing bait even though I tied it on the hook. On occassion I thought perhaps I lost it to a "strike", but maybe that was just the optimism one must have to "go fishin". More likely, the surf just sucked it off!

Nancy thought the beach was beautiful and took off on a long walk to the north. An hour went by, with me baiting up and fighting the surf, and I was tapped out for the day. Surf fishing in the north is a tougher proposition than in the gentle climes of the south. We packed up, took a look at the the two big bull elk on the way out, and headed back to camp.

Most of the California State Parks have loos with showers and hot water. They are coin operated and a nice long shower with hot water can be had for about 50 cents. Both of us were ready for that and headed for the shower when we got back to camp. Who was it that said "You should change underwear at least twice a week!". We came out feeling all fresh with clean undies and were ready for another of Nancy's gourmet camp dinners, and of course, a couple glasses of wine to mellow us out in the woods. This was our last day in California, and in the morning we would again head north towards Bandon and our first day on the Oregon coast.

The Oregon Trail--Part V--Trinidad & Ferndale

October 12, 2004
Tuesday

I was awake early. I never did get completely comfortable on the air mattress, which seemed a bit small for me. I kept rolling off the edge of it and it was hard to get the sleeping bag properly situated. So as it became a bit light outside, I rolled out and got dressed, grabbed my toilet kit and headed off to the loo. No one else in the campground seemed to be up as of yet. The Sun was not yet above the horizon, or at least was still far below the crests of the mountains to the east, so the light was grey and not very inviting to early risers I guess. I finished shaving in cold water and headed back to our campsite. It was my early morning job to get the Coleman stove going and start a pot of coffee perking. Once the blurp" of the perculator started and the smell of coffee started towards the tent, I heard Nancy making wakeful noises, and soon her head popped out of the tent looking for some caffiene. I got all the breakfast goodies and cooking stuff out of the trunk, and as soon as Nancy had a shot of caffiene, she had bacon and eggs going in a frying pan. I was reviewing all the information about the area from the brouchures we picked up at the visiter's center so we could set our itinerary for the day.

We needed to do laundry. We had noticed a laundramat in Trinidad, so after breakfast that's where we headed. There was a great little quilt store in Trinidad as well. How handy!! Tinidad was a very small village of maybe 200 people tops, but Nancy thought the quilt store there was very nice. She measures quilt stores not by their size, but by the creativity of the owners, and their selection of fabrics in their inventory. There were a few stores that she just walked in and out of on our trip. This one got her attention, however, and she spent some time there picking out some fabrics for her "collection", and talking with the owner and other quilters looking for the "right stuff". I overheard a scandinavian accent from one of the women, and thought to myself that quilter's sure will go a long way for the "right stuff"!

While she was was doing her thing, I had time to wander down the block to take some pictures of the "replica" of the Trinidad lighthouse light and a small memorial to those who had lost their lives at sea off the Trinidad coast. The real light was still in operation out on the point, but was not accessable by the public. It was a clear sunny day and the view down the coast towards Arcata and Eureka was a blue sparkle accented by white surf rolling against blackish sand beaches.

Across the street there was an old cottage with a sign on it that said "Gallery". There was a tall, lanky man with a pork pie hat covering his longish white hair doing gardening in the front yard. He paused in his weeding and greeted me as I approached the white picket gate. I chatted with him and found out a bit about Trinidad, most notably that it was at the same laditude as Chicago, but that the Trinidad weather was much more agreeable. He said he had been to Alaska, Africa, and all over the West, and Trinidad was just the best place to be. As I wandered through the rooms of the cottage, I noticed that the back rooms were living quarters and the front three rooms were the "Gallery". The art portrayed wild animals of the western states, with a few from Africa. They were all in oil, and most were simply framed. It was apparent from my earlier conversation with him that the artist was out front weeding. His signature was on all of the canvases. Prices ranged from around $100 up to about $1000 for the largest effort. They were not really good, but seemed fairly priced for their quality. I think he liked his home and business in this little village and I wondered whether he still painted, ever sold anything, or was content to weed his garden and have a chat now and then with a guy waiting for his "quilter" to finish shopping across the street! I bid him a good day and walked back across the street to check on Nancy's progress. She was almost done, and I took a picture of her with the store owner, and another in front of the store, and we headed south on 101.

Today was a touring day, and from the small village of Trinidad, we decided to visit the small victorian village of Ferndale. Ferndale was about 20 minutes south of Eureka and 5 miles east of 101 in a valley mostly noted for dairy farms and cheese. As a town it was a nationally designated landmark because of the restoration effort that had been made to preserve all of the victorian buildings on the 2-3 blocks of the main street, as well as a couple beautiful old churches and homes scattered throughout the few streets in town. Because of that, it got a pretty good flow of tourists off 101 in the summer, had a little seasonal theater, an old fairgrounds out by the High School, a couple of restored Victorian B&Bs, and of course a cute quilt store and knit store!!

It was the off season, so the town was quiet. I was the only one walking around with a camera hanging over my shoulder, or standing in the middle of main street taking pictures. The first thing we did was find the best coffee place so Nancy could get a double cappachino. The perked coffee made on the coleman stove that morning proved not to be an adequate dose of caffiene to last her the day! We walked the two or three blocks of the main street, and came to the quilt store, where Nancy decided to browse. The store was located in a building which was shared by a gallery with art and jewelry, a specialty knit store, an artist who made some interesting craft art, and an artist's exhibit/museum of funky vehicles which had been made for an annual well known "race" from Arcata to Eureka. After walking through the shops, I sat on a bench in the foyer to wait for Nancy. All the women who were manning the shop counters were in a lunch mode and had ordered pizza together. There was a common table just outside the quilt store in the foyer which was the center of the pizza eating and yakking activity. They all could sit there and yet keep an eye on anyone who came in to their shops. One of the gals had brought in a new litter of puppies who were part this and that, and was making an effort to find them all a home. She said she was giving the mother a break. They couldn't have been more that a few days old, and, of course, were very cute and got carried around and cooed over alot by everyone who dropped in. (Who knows what they will grow up to be!) It was a pretty comfortable place to be!

Nancy finished both shops and we headed back to the car. We drove some of the streets around town, and I was reminded of the small Minnesota farm community where I grew up, Bricelyn, Minn., Pop. 600! Four or five blocks in any direction from the center of town, and you were out in a field!

We headed back towards Eureka and decided to stop and walk around the old historic section of the town, which had been admirably restored. We stopped at the Maritime Museum near the bay, made a suggested donation, and found out all about the logging operations which made Eureka the major port of Northern California in the late 1800's and early 1900's. The museum was in a early 20th century building with old wooden floors. There was an elderly gentleman in charge of the guest book who I thought might have been old enough to be considered one of the museum exhibits himself! Following a walking tour around a few blocks we needed a treat! We looked for an ice cream shop without luck, so finally had to stop and ask a local who directed us back to a shop which we had passed earlier, that had an ice cream "bar" that wasn't apparent from the outside. They had good stuff, and Nancy's other favorite craving was satisfied for the day.

We decided to head back to camp with a stop in Arcata for goodies for a camp dinner that night, and hoped to get back to camp in time for a short hike along the bluff to watch the sun go down and sssssst off into the Pacific. We arrived in camp a bit late but started off on our hike. We walked on the path just south of the campground and came to a small clearing on the edge overlooking the ocean and the sunset. Another couple about our age were all settled in their reclining camp chairs, sipping wine, munching snacks, and enjoying the spectacle when we got there. We chatted a bit until the last of the Sun disappeared and headed back to camp to cook while there was still some light. Another of Nancy's gourmet camp meals, a walk around the campground in the dark looking at the stars so bright in the darkness, and I was ready to try my luck with the air mattress for another night!

Tomorrow I hoped to have a a couple of hours to do some surf fishing somewhere along the coast!

The Oregon Trail--Part IV--Ft. Bragg to Arcata

October 11, 2004

Breakfast at the Rhondevous B&B was not served until 9am. I guess the chef had to recover from cooking the very expensive meal from the night before. Usually we were on the road by 9 am, but breakfast was included with the room, and we expected the chef to do something nice, so we were going to hang around to see what it would be. However, we were up by 7 am and could not wait for caffiene. We had all ready checked out the best coffee house in town the afternoon of our arrival, so we headed over there for Nancy's double cappachino and my coffee with the morning newspaper. While everthing else in town was still in hibernation status, the coffee house was jumping. There were cars and pickups parked on both side of the small street, and we had to park around the corner and walk a half a block. There was a line of 2 customers at the order counter (long for Ft Bragg), and the tables were all full of early risers slurping caffienne and eating a variety of muffins and other baked goods, before they set out to open up the rest of the town. We ended up sitting at the "bar" counter at the front window. I went towards the back of the room to look for a "used" paper that someone had read and left for a cheapskate like me, and wasn't having much luck. As I passed by a reader peering at his sport page, he looked up and said, "I'm not going to read the rest of this, do you want it?" Wow! Small town friendliness!! I even got the sport page later when he was done with it!!

We headed back towards our upcoming breakfast with the idea that we would get all packed up, pay our bill, and be ready to eat and then run out to see a few things around the town before heading north to Arcata. Our expensive waiter from the the night before, had told us that his significant other owned the local quilt and fabric store, and Nancy had told him that she would visit it before we left. So that was one stop that we had to make.

Ft. Bragg's big claim to fame was the "Skunk Train", an old line that ran from Ft. Bragg easterly through the forest for about 30 miles on the same "scenic" route we had weaved in on. It was originally a line built to haul logs and lumber to the coast for shipping out of Ft Bragg south to San Francisco, and north to Eureka. One of the old Steam Engines was still on line and pulled old restored passenger cars round trip twice daily during the summer. So, we had to at least check out the schedule for the train while we we there. (Arcata was only 2-3 hours so we had time).

Breakfast turned out to be a fancy "fritata" with spinich and bacon, home made muffins, and coffee and Orange juice. It was OK but not that "memorable". There we only four of us eating breakfast, so I suppose the chef didn't feel that he had to impress!

We packed up the car, said goodbye to the chef (and his cat), and headed for the quilt store. Nancy found that the significant other was expecting her to turn up and would probably have been disappointed if she had not dropped in, bought a couple of pieces, and brought news from the big city far to the south. While Nancy was doing that I wandered through a couple of antique stores looking at prices, and, of course seeing if I could find a treasure that was priced too cheap!! Unfortunately, most people who own antique stores know more about it than I do, and I have yet to find something desireable that is miss-priced in my favor!

We headed over to check out the train, and found that the steam engine ran only in the summer, and there was only one train ride a day in the off season. It was pulled by a diesel engine. That ride would not be memorable. We looked through the small train museum, and then decided that there was nothing left in Ft Bragg to keep us from heading north again, so we were off!

We were soon back on Hwy 101 cruising towards Eureka. Just south of Eureka was the turnoff to Ferndale, a small village that has taken great pains to preserve and restore its Victorian main street, and because of that gets a pretty good flow of tourists in the summer. It was on our itinerary while we were in the area, and we thought we would get back to it. Eureka is an old logging port on a large shallow bay. It is the largest city in the northern part of California with a population of 60-70000 people. It is also the center of commercial activity for the area, so as we entered the city, 101 became cluttered with signs, motels, fast food joints, and businesses of all types from construction to sports bars. We didn't stop, but did take a turn around the restored historic area of downtown, and decided it would be worthwhile to come back and spend a bit of time there if we had the time.

We had decided we were going to camp out for a couple of days, but had not yet decided where. Just outside Arcata there was a sign for a visitors center, so we pulled in for advice. Pete's Point State Park was highly recommended by the visitor's center staff. It was about 5 miles north of Trinidad (about 15 minutes north of Arcata). It was on a bluff high above the ocean with lots of trees. We went into Arcata to stock up the cooler for goodies for dinner, breakfast and snacks! And , of course, some vino for "happy hour" in the woods!! Nancy knew right where to shop. It was in her guidebook!!

We headed for camp and pulled in about 4 pm. The Sun was still bright and the weather was unusually warm for the season--great camping weather!!

Since it was off season there were alot of open camp spaces, and as usual when we go camping, we had to drive around the camp three times before we picked what we thought to be the "best" spot to pitch out tent. (it had to be level, quiet, and not to far from the "loo".)

So we unloaded, set up the tent, and went into campout mode. We needed wood for a fire, so I headed out to the camp visitor center to buy a couple of bundles. I got there at 5:07--and it was closed (5:00 pm--bummer!) We needed wood! So I drove the 5 miles to Trinidad to get some. When I got back to camp, Nancy found that she did not have any butter, which was an essential ingrediant for the dinner she was preparing. Back to Trinidad for butter. I guess we should have picked a camp closer to a "store". Nancy is a great camp cook, however, and we had some really good foil dinners cooked over the fire.

The State Park campground was on a beautiful site. We walked a bit on the bluff trail and watched the sun sink into the ocean.

We decided to camp for three nights since the weather was so good. Nancy had a long itinerary planned for the area, including a couple of quilt shops, a drive to Ferndale, checking out Humbolt State University in Arcata, and driving through the McKinleyville area just outside of Arcata.

I woke up in the middle of the night to walk to the "loo" and heard sea lions barking at each other on the rocks far below the camp. It sure beat waking to the ever present russssssh of freeway noise in southern California.

The Oregon Trail--Part III--Healdsburg & Ft. Bragg

October 10, 2004

It was Sunday morning about 6 am when I popped out of bed. It was still dark and the apartment was quiet. I dressed and slipped out and headed over to the Coffeetopia for some caffeine and the morning paper, expecting Nancy to join me in about an hour. We had decided to head north to Ft. Bragg at about nine, so we had time to luxuriate over breakfast a bit. We figured that it would be a 4 to 5 hour drive, since our route would take us on 101 through San Francisco and across the Golden Gate Bridge, through the Napa and Sonoma wine producing areas and into Mendocino County where we would cut over west and be back to the beach.

Nancy turned up a bit earlier than I thought she would, and by eight thirty we were all packed and ready to go--so we got an early start. It turned into a sunny day, and since it was Sunday, the traffic was light and it didn't take long to cruise past San Jose and hit the outskirts of San Francisco. The 101 route through San Francisco joins old route 1 on the west side near the beach. Sunday morning traffic was leisure bound, and heaviest around Golden Gate Park near the Haight district. We passed through the canopy of leaves in Presidio Park and found ourselves on the Golden Gate Bridge, which on this bright day provided a panorama of sails in the Bay, great views of Alcatraz and Angel Islands, each with a wisp of fog hanging over them , and the skyline of the City. In the distant background was the Bay Bridge, which was like an echo of the Golden Gate, and connected the City to the rest of the world to the east.

The Golden Gate Bridge on Sundays becomes a park, with bicyclists in their tight shorts and bright shirts pedaling across the west side pathway to Sausalito and back, and hikers and joggers on the east pedestrian walkway, weaving through tourists who had the time to park at the Presidio and walk out on the Bridge a ways to take pictures of it all.

We drove past Mill Valley, San Rafael, Novato, Petaluma, and hills covered with manicured vines, barren of grapes, but with leaves turned yellow from the autumn frosts, and finally past Santa Rosa to a stop in Healdsburg for gas and Sunday "brunch"!

Healdsburg is the center of the Sonoma wine region , and while a small town of a few thousand people, it reflects the richness of the area, and caters to the wine lovers who come to tour the many wineries in the area. Once sated with the grape, the wine enthusiasts spend lots of money in one or more of the many art galleries, upscale boutiques and shops, or the many fine restaurants located in the quaint downtown area.

A small square in the middle of the downtown business district, with trees, benches, and grass provided space for R&R. It was early Sunday afternoon and the local knitting store was sponsering a "knit out" right in the park, with a dozen or so knitters busily clicking needles together making scarves, socks or perhaps something more complicated, like a sweater. Nancy was excited to see that group and spent some time talking to the "leader" of the pack, who was sitting at a small table with a "troubleshooter" sign on it . Nancy got direction to the local kitting and fabric shop, and of course spent some time sorting through and picking out something to carry away in a bag, while I hung around outside watching the rhythm of the street. A young guy and his girl friend drove up and parked a completely refurbished 1959 2-door Chevrolet hardtop right in front of me, left it unlocked with the windows down and went off somewhere. It was that kind of town!

We had brunch of eggs and pancakes and toast at a very family oriented restaurant across from the park. Lots of kids, carbs, and more coffee! And we were off northward up 101!

Another 60 miles or so, past Ukiah, we exited 101 to take Rte 20 to Ft Bragg. It was designated a "scenic" route, which I soon decided meant, "a very curvy road up and down and around mountains surrounded by trees." It was 36 miles to Ft Bragg on this road, which basically was a series of "S" turns winding through the coastal range. It was "scenic" however!

We got into Ft Bragg about 4 pm. It was "dead" on Sunday afternoon. We had a couple recommendations for B&Bs from Nancy's guide books, and found an old, slightly beat up, but very large "Rendevous Inn B&B" right at the end of the main street (Old Rte 1). We were ready to park so we swung in the back lot. The owner's cat greeted us at the back door, and reminded Nancy that she all ready missed her cat, Hallie! So this cat got the benefit of her attention before we went in to check out the place. Since it was past the tourist season, there was a room at the inn.

The owner of the Inn was a chef that had been trained in France, and had cooked at some very nice restaurants here and there. He and his wife had bought the Inn as a "project" a few years ago, and had opened a restraurant in the Inn which was well known in the area. It seemed to me that the Inn still had a lot of "project" left in it, and I wondered about the restaurant! But it was getting late, we were newly arrived, nor did we know where to go for dinner that night. Looking at the menu, it looked interesting, but surprisingly expensive!! I hoped that the owner was much better in the kitchen than he was at working on the "project" Inn, which, while an interesting house, was still pretty threadworn in most rooms.

Ah well, we were on vacation!! So we decided to splurge and dine downstairs. The meal was very good, the wine was nice, and the service was ok. But for a small town the meal with wine and tip had a big town price, $125!! We decided that if the weather was good, we would try to camp out for the next couple of nights, and eat out in nature!!

The Oregon Trail--Part II--Santa Cruz

October 8, 2004

It was 4:15 am on Friday when the alarm went off reminding us that we were on vacation, and demanding that we start having fun! Our first day of fun would be a 7 hour drive to Santa Cruz, interupted by a stop in about 3 hrs at Santa Barbara to get Nancy a double cappachino at the Santa Barbara Brewing company, and then a big plate of carbs at Esau's cafe just across the way on south State St. That was our routine whenever we drove 101 north. It was built into the timetable!!

I drove. It was familiar. Early morning traffic allowed a smooth drive up the I-5 and the I-405 through the heart of L.A. before the rush to work would clog the freeways with the 7 to 9 commuter crowd. The weather was nice, but with a fog bank off the coast north of L.A. reaching up towards Santa Barbara, shrouding the line of oil rigs from north of Zuma up towards the Channel Islands. As we drove 101 past Oxnard and the Sun cleared the Santa Monica mountains it pushed the fog bank further west, and the oil rigs emerged from the sea like giant alien structures far offshore.

Besides our Santa Barbara stop, there was one more stop for gas, and we rolled into Santa Cruz in the early afternoon. Sara and her two roommates, rent an apartment a couple of blocks from the beach in Capitola on the east side of town. One of her roomies was home--so we settled in, and went out for a walk to the beach. Surf was up and there were a bunch of surfers trying to share waves. (I'm told that Santa Cruz was where the modern wetsuit was "invented", primarily for surfers to use in the colder water of Santa Cruz winter season.

We love Santa Cruz and planned on taking Sara's bed away from her for two nights! She is always willing to sleep on the couch. We bribe her by taking her out to dinner and shopping while we are there.

While Sara and Nancy went shopping downtown, I went fishing off the pier in Capitola for a couple hours--didn't catch anything but a bit of sun and some local color. I didn't see anyone else catch anything either. I think people fish there just to get outside, watch the gulls, and the sea lions.

Sara and her roommates had a color TV which was very inadequate. They did have cable, but the TV was only a 12" and didn't have a remote. So to change the channel one had to get up and go turn the knob. It was like living in the dark ages of TV dom. Not only that, I couldn't read any of the scores because the screen was so small. I promised them that on our return trip I was going to buy a new TV first thing so I wouldn't miss the World series and football games scheduled in two weeks. I considered that part of the bribe for welcoming us back there on our return. While I was there I also fixed Sara's bedroom lamp with a new plug and switch, and glued and refastened the trim that was loose on her Volvo. I also replaced a bulb in their outdoor light. It is nice to have a man around the house!!!

Oh yes, there was a good coffee house called Coffeetopia within walking distance that opened at 6 am, so I could get up early and drive over and read the paper. And Nancy could walk over later for her double Cappachino. Between the surf just a couple blocks in one direction and the coffeehouse in the other, Sara's apartment was all together a great place to spend the first couple of days of our trek to the Oregon Trail!

We planned to get an early start on Sunday morning with a double cappachino to go, and a goal of reaching Ft. Bragg on the Medocino Coast by mid afternoon.

The Oregon Trail--Part I--Preparations

October--2004

A few months ago Nancy decided that we should take a two week driving vacation, something we had not done for 25 years. She had a taste of the wanderlust about a year ago when two of her friends had invited her to go along on a driving trip through Arizona and New Mexico, with a destination of Denver to visit their relatives. She went! She enjoyed seeing Santa Fe, the Navajo Nation lands, the sweeping vistas of the Southwest deserts, and the crispness of the Rockies. She enjoyed the trip alot, but since she was a "guest" she felt that she might have enjoyed it more with the freedom to pick the iternerary and activities. It did get her enthused for another driving trip, however.

Being on the road together for two weeks on an old fashioned sightseeing tour had a certain nostalgic appeal to both of us. After all, we both grew up in families where a vacation usually involved packing up the car and heading down the road to see the sights, camp out, or stay at a cabin at a lake or river.

Where to go? We had been looking for potential future retirement locations on the west coast, and most of the best suited locations were to the north. I was really interested in checking out Bend, Oregon, and Nancy thought she would like to check out Northern California and the Oregon coast. Since our daughter, Sara, was living in Santa Cruz, it seemed like we could start and end with a visit with her. When to go? Early October seemed to fit. The summer crowds would be gone, there might be some good fall color in the northern forests, and the weather, while cooler, could still be agreeable. So Nancy started planning! New maps and guidebooks for California and the Pacific Northwest were acquired. I got on the internet and searched for all the good sites for information on Oregon. I signed in on the state websites for visiters, and started getting lots of great publications in the mail covering everything from Golf in Oregon, to all the scenic routes and and their sights. Nancy worked the internet sites for all the interesting towns, B&Bs and campsites which she might include as destinations. She asked her quilting contacts where all the good quilt stores were along the northern California Coast and up into Oregon. I checked out the potential golf course stops! Nancy started making a list of what to pack! Since we planned to camp some of the time we were going to have a full load in the olde Mercedes! When we hopped in the car we were going to be prepared!!

As October approached Nancy was busy working on our itinerary, working out our day to day driving milieage, our overnight stops, sights not to be missed, and B&B and camping options. We would leave on Friday, October 8 and return on Monday, October 25, a total of 18 days. That was slightly more than two weeks, but was rationalized by including a couple of extra weekend days, and a Friday drive day to Santa Cruz with a Monday drive back.

Thursday October 7 it was done! Instructions had been written for Matt. (He was excited to have the house to himself for a couple weeks!) The trunk of the car was packed. By bedtime the bags were packed and ready for an early start. The alarm was set for 4:15. At 5 am we would be launched!

Ghostbusters--A Political Rant

I wonder how we have managed a course of action in the last four years, that puts our society in a constant state of stress. It used to be that stress was caused by working too hard, a boss who was a pain in the rear,too many kids, no kids, not enough money, not enough sex, unemployment, smog, mental illness, divorce, death of a loved one; all the normal stuff of life. Usually it was there for awhile, and then something good happened and it went away. At least until the next bummer came along.

Maybe I am just getting old, and wishing for some respite from continuing conflict in the world. Why do people hate each other? There really can't be that much difference between humans and what they want that would justify hate. And yet hate has been passed from generation to generation among some peoples who to this day still fight and kill each other with regularity.

In the USA, we have developed a divided country and have painted the map of states with red or blue, depending on who is voted for, a conservative or a liberal. So now are we to be defined by color all over again? Who is going to be considered "colored" and how are divisions going to be made? Will we have red sections and blue sections in restaurants? Who will disdain who the most?

Have I missed something? Was it always like that, and I just never paid attention? Or did it start when Conservatives became more in control of government after not having consolidated power for so long a period of time? Where cooperation, compromise and moderation was once the norm, the opportunity for abuse became reality.

With control of Congress and the Office of President, there was no effective opposition to stop foolishness, corruption, and in general, bad government. That is not to say that Republicans could not be effective in governing, but with majority control of both houses of Congress and the Presidency, there was no one who could cry "STOP"! to cause debate and compromise and produce more measured and effective results in decisions affecting the welfare of all citizens of this great country.

The 9/11 attack gave opportunity for additional power to the Presidency to act in retaliation without an adequate measure of thought regarding the various potential consequences of our actions. And here we are mired in a bog of stress caused by politics and guns and bombs and violence that seems to have no end.

The "Dogs of War" on the right have been convinced, mostly by deception, that force is the only response to solve all the terrorist activity in the world, and it is up to us to "stay the course" and use all our resources and young soldiers in the effort! Those who disagree, see parallels to Vietnam, which was a terrible mistake, also made by politicians who deceived, and resulted in a vast waste of life and resources. It ended with a sigh of grief over those who were lost for nothing of value.

In a fantasy world we could "CALL GHOSTBUSTERS", and they would come and trap evil in a magnetic box!

We need to stop and think about ending violence and wasting lives.

San Francisco--Haighted It the last day--Day 4

A QUICK MORNING WASHDOWN!

Sunday Morning at home is usually started early sitting outside at Pipe's Cafe in Cardiff having morning coffee and lots of carbs, while reading the Sunday paper. Farley's was an excellent substitute, and since our landlord was gone for the weekend her Sunday Chronicle was just laying there on the stoop looking for a reader! I was standing in the doorway at the top of the stoop looking out, mouth agape, wondering what was going on! It was pouring rain! Here at last was the kind of weather that would make our day in the City something much different from all the sunshine we saw day after day in San Diego! I told Nancy that we would have to drive to Farley's if we wanted to stay dry, so we dashed across the street to the Volvo and drove the 2 blocks. By the time we got there, the rain had let up, and in another 15 minutes the Sun had begun to peek through the clouds. It looked like it would not be the slow paced, wet, misty day we had been looking for all week.

While we absorbed caffiene, we planned our last day. Our plane would take off just after 4 pm, so we had a good part of the day to tour around as we desired. Matt had never made it to Cal State SF, so we thought we should take a ride over that way so he could see the campus. The trip to that side of town dictated that we cruise the Ocean Beach area, drive through Golden Gate Park, and hit the Haight district for brunch and shopping.

When we got back to the apartment about 9:30, both Matt and Sara were up and about and were talking about where we could go to eat! We shared the plan we had devised at Farley's and decided to pack up everthing in the car so we did not have to come back before heading to the airport later in the day. Nancy left a nice note for the landlord and hoped she would look kindly on us and let us return sometime in the future! To that end we left the place in immaculate condition!

SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH SARA

The designated driver headed us down 16th street westward in the general direction of our first destination, which was either going to be Golden Gate Park or Cal State SF. For a moment I forgot myself and actually had possession of the map, noting what I thought would be the best route to take. I was given an opinion reminding me of my rightful place in the back seat, while the designated driver and her mother discussed the way to go. Earlier in the week, they had made a trip to Haight and I presumed that they knew the right route.

We passed through Harvey Milk Plaza in The Castro , and headed west past the Panhandle towards Golden Gate Park. The designated driver had been to a concert there recently so knew her way around. There was a mob at the park waiting in a line for something to happen, which Sara surmised must be a free concert since it was near the area where her concert had occurred. I wistfully thought that perhaps, since it was a younger crowd, they were in line to have a demonstration of some type, since the park was very close to Haight and to three universities (USF,UCSF, & SFSU). That would have been a great way to spend some of Sunday, carrying a protest banner in the park in San Francisco!!

MATT'S TOUR!

We headed south towards SFSU to give Matt a view of the Campus, since he had missed his college friend and his anticipated tour. It was a a nice campus, institutional looking, with alot of student housing apartments in the area. It was next to a big park and only a few blocks from the beach. The most exciting aspect of the campus was that it was right across the street from Harding Municipal Golf Course, which has an excellent reputation as one of the best public courses in San Francisco! I think I will encourage Matt to attend!

We took the Ocean Beach route past the Zoo and back towards Golden Gate Park. It was a sunny morning, but a bit blustery. Not many people appeared to be at the beach, although it was difficult to tell since there were big sand dunes between the road and the actual beach area. Even on a sunny day my guess was that the water temperature was probably 10 degrees colder than in San Diego, which did not make the air temperature hospitable for sun bathing, but was probably great for a brisk walk along the shore! We didn't stop, although I had the urge to say something. It was obvious, however, that the designated driver was moving on to a destination which had a possibility of providing an opportunity to quiet the growl in Matt's stomach.

We reached that famous intersection, Haight and Ashbury, and Sara turned on her parking radar, driving around the streets looking for the one open space in the area. It turned out to be a couple blocks south of Haight St, and as usual, after a couple tries, she successfully paralleled the Volvo into the space.

LOVE THAT HAIGHT!!

The Haight commercial area is about 4-5 blocks long. The west end butts up to Golden Gate Park and ends with the famous Ameoba Music store. The Ameoba is a San Francisco force in promoting the music business, has been there forever, and is a cavernous space filled with new and used records, including old LPs as well as new CDs. Rollingstone Magazine calls it "The World's Greatest Music Store". Sara bought a jazz CD by someone I had never heard of!

It was almost 1 pm, and the street was very busy with mostly a younger crowd shopping and looking for brunch. We walked the length of the street past all the psychadelic shops selling tie dyes, and smoking paraphenalia, some old record stores, and a wide variety of eateries, serving crepes to tacos. Matt and I browsed through a big music/instrument store which specialized in guitars and drums. Nancy and Sara shopped for shoes.

THE PORK STORE!!

After looking in the windows of most of the prospects for eating establishments, Sara and Nancy decided that we should stand in line at a joint called "The Pork Store" which obviously had been there for a long time and had a line out the door. I looked in the window and saw huge plates piled high with omeletes, hash browns, and biscuits and gravy. It looked like my kind of place, and based on the amount of food to consume, I thought a better name might be "The Porker Store"! In about 20 minutes we were in and seated at an "A" table in the front window! Nancy ordered an omelet and hash browns, and I ordered the biscuits and gravy, and we split it all between us. We managed to clean our plates! Matt and Sara each ordered a pile of carbs also, and Matt got rid of his growl! A picture on the wall from a century ago showed a butcher standing in front of the storefront in an apron. The sausage gravy on the biscuits I had eaten was probably his recipe.

FINIS!

We took another walk up and down the street, and decided there was nothing wrong with getting to the airport a bit early. So off we went, the designated driver once again in charge of our destiny. It turned out that to get to the airport we had to go back through the Mission District to the Potrero District which was where our apartment was located, head south on Potrero Ave and connect into the freeway going south to SFO. As we passed through Mission I noticed another small old storefront with a sign that said "The Pork Store". It must have been a chain! Sara asked if Nancy wanted to drive around and try to find her ancestral home since we had some time and had no luck with our earlier effort! Nancy decided that she would find it on her next trip. I think she wanted to have a good reason to return in the future!

Sara left us off at the terminal with hugs, and headed back to Santa Cruz. We went to gate 90 and plopped down to wait for our boarding to be called. The plane was full--it took an hour flight time to get home. The Sun was bright and there was a gentle ocean breeze as we got off the plane. We stopped at El Indio in Old Town to get some Mexican take out to eat at home, as we had done many times over the years.

And went back to the old routine.

San Francisco--Nancy & Me--Day 3

TEAM NANCY/MARK VS. TEAM SARA/MATT

It was Saturday in the City. The plan was for Sara and Matt to spend the day together. Sara, our designated driver, had her car, so Nancy and I anticipated using the MUNI system to zip around town as we desired. The Sara/Matt team were going to MOMA where there was a big exhibit of modern POP art which included some things by Andy Warhal as well as some of the other icons of the genre. They then were to hook up with a friend of Matt's who was going to school at Cal State SF and have a wild time with the college crowd.

The Nancy/Mark team plan was to have a nice lunch somewhere, and play it as it came! As usual I started our day at Farley's with two big cups of caffiene and a scone loaded with butter and jam. Nancy had her customary double cappachino and a muffin and wrote some more secrets in her journal. By the time I got through the Chronicle and the crossword, the last of the caffiene had been downed and was kicking in, and we were both raring to get our big day together in gear!

It was now closing in on 10 am and back at the apartment the Matt/Sara team was up and almost ready to blast off in the Volvo towards City Centre and MOMA (and the pile of people sure to be in attendance or at least in line in the area waiting to get on the Cable Cars).

ZAPPING!

We tidied up after them, (just like at home), and when things were neatly stowed, walked up a block to the bus stop to wait for the #22 electric powered bus. We sat on the bench and I wondered how often the bus came by on Saturday compared to during the week, visualizing our day being spent sitting on benches waiting for some form of transportation going in the right direction. Since I had time to ponder on things, I wondered what would happen if one of the overhead electric lines, which powered the buses and trolleys throughout the city, would fall on me for some reason. I had read a warning on a panel in one of the electric trolleys that there was 600 volts of electricity running through the trolley panel, and assumed that the buses had the same zapping power if one were to get zapped! I had not heard of anyone getting zapped, but there were overhead lines on just about every street of any size in the whole city, and I could not imagine that some zapping had not occurred on a regular basis. Perhaps there was an understanding among all the residents of the City that such things as zapped and sizzled persons were not to be discussed because it would be very bad for the tourist business and would cause the pile of people to dwindle to a small mound! About that time in my pondering, #22, which was firmly attached to the electric line, came humming up to the stop. We flashed our 3 day passes and hopped on just like we knew what we were doing and where we were going.

WALKIES!

Our plan was to do some walking tours of the Mission and Castro Districts, which, as it happened, were both right on the #22 line to the east of us. Nancy had an old picture of her great-great-etc standing in front of his store/house which was located in the Mission district. She didn't have the address specifically, but had been by it once with her mother years ago and thought she could find it if she got into the right area. The Mission district actually was the site of an old Spanish mission which no longer existed. But a nice newer one was there with a big spire/tower and a mission school. Both the Castro and Mission areas were originally part of an original Spanish land grant in olden days. A bigwig Spanish guy called Jose de Jesus Noe', was the last Mexican Acalde (Mayor) of "Yerba Buena". That was the name of the settlement prior to Jan 30, 1847 when it was changed to San Francisco ( after St Francis of Assisi). There is still a Noe' St. and a Noe' Valley named after him in the area. Yerba Buena Island still sits in the bay between the City and Oakland!

Nancy said we would go to the Castro district first and have lunch, then come back to the Mission and walk around there. Of course we made the error of getting off the bus at Mission St instead of Market and ended up in the Mission district. We were going to wait for the next bus, but in looking at the map, saw it was only 6-7 blocks to Market, so we decided that we could probably walk there in the time we would have to wait for another bus. And we did beat the next bus!

GAY WAY!

The Castro district is the center of the gay community in the city. Harvey Milk was the first elected gay city supervisor. He had opened a camera store when he came to this area, and the store front is still a much visited location. While in office he was shot and killed at the city hall by a nutcase , former city supervisor Danny White. He also killed Mayor George Moscone in his rampage. The nutcase pleaded insanity due to uncontrolled rage caused by a sugar overdose, and was found guilty of only voluntary manslaughter. It was a very famous trial and the defense became known as the "Twinkie" defense. ( It was the White Milk and Cookie trial--that's the truth!) The Plaza at the south end of Market St is named Harvey Milk Plaza in his honor.

Market St. is a straight line northward to the heart of downtown on the MUNI "F" line. There is an underground connection to BART, and above, buses, and trolleys all ply this route which ends at Fisherman's Wharf. It seems to be the city's busiest corridor. Castro is a vibrant and busy neighborhood filed with cafes, bars, health clubs, gay oriented boutiques, and all the other businesses necessary to support a fairly sizeable community. The old Castro Theater is the last of the 1920's single screen movie palaces left in the city. These days it tends to play classic movies, and I suspect whatever mainstream movie that appeals to the local gay community. It still has the old classic Pipe Organ used during the silent film era.

It is one of the best preserved communities in the city with streets lined with trees and rows of old refurbished and colorfully painted Victorian row houses. While the homes have small garages on the ground floor, it seems that everyone parks on both sides of the street. All the streets are lined with parked cars. (I noticed this all over the city).

We had a very nice lunch at a sidewalk cafe called the Cafe Flore'. I had a hamburger with fries, and Nancy had a veggie burger with a salad. Nancy said it was the best veggie burger she had ever had in her entire life! And that is saying something! A perfect place for lunch! We need to go back.

We drank a bottle of Pelligrino sparkling water and enjoyed the activity and swirl of people, trolleys, cars, and buses around the Plaza.

MUSEO DE CABLE CAR

It was after 1 pm, and the afternoon was still before us. I looked at the map and instead of a walk around the Mission district, I thought that a trip to the cable car museum near Nob Hill might be interesting. I was ever the tourist! Nancy was game so we walked out to the trolley stop and hopped on the "F" line trolley headed downtown. My thought was that we could hop on a cable car downtown to take us to the museum. Wouldn't that be cool. Well, we got down to the Market St cable car stop, and as usual there was a line of tourists a mile long waiting to get on. Nancy said it was only 5-6 blocks up the hill, and if we started walking maybe we could hop on the cable car at one of the other stops. So we started up the hill and at each stop along the way there was a group waiting to get on a car that was all ready full when it got there. We ended up climbing all the way up to the museum. I think we got there almost as fast as the car that left at the same time, and I know that walking was alot faster that waiting in that line. I think if we lived in the City we would be in very good physical condition!

The museum also was the maintenance and mechanical building that housed all the machinery that powered the cables that pulled the cars up all those hills. It was all open for viewing, and it was fascinating to see how the system worked with the two big electric motors turning the huge pulleys with the cables running through them. The exhibits showed the history of the system and there were many pictures of the city before and after the earthquake and fire of 1902. All the cable car and the buildings were destroyed or burned in the 1902 earthquake. While some of it was rebuilt after, most of the new system was converted to electric trolleys, which were much more efficient and easier to build. Only a couple of cable lines survived, and the original steam driven system was converted to electric power. The whole system was refurbished in the 1980's( at the cost of a zillion $ or so) and should now last another century as the only existing working cable car system in the world. The Cable Car Mechanical and Maintenace building was refurbished as well and the museum was much improved. The only existing original cable car is on exhibit in the museum. That car happened to be on exhibit in Baltimore at the time of the earthquake and escaped the destruction. Finding out how the cable system worked was very interesting, and educational too!

NANCY KNOWS EVERYBODY!!

As we exited the building and were standing on the corner consulting our map, we heard a voice yell, "Hey Nancy!" One of Nancy's friends from San Diego wheeled by in a VW with her husband at the wheel and another couple in the back seat and yelled out the window, "We just went to Alcatraz!", then whipped around the corner without even stopping. What are the odds of that! It is well known among all her friends that Nancy cannot go anywhere without bumping into someone she knows. The stories I could tell!

LA BACCA DE VINO

We walked up Nob Hill and were standing in front of the Fairmont Hotel when Nancy's cell phone rang. It was Sara (on Matt's cell), wondering where we were. They were done with the art exhibit at MOMA and since we were just a few blocks away they came and picked us up. They had not heard from Matt's college friend. So we decided to head back to the apartment, clean up a bit, and all go out for a nice dinner together. We looked in Nancy's dining guide and picked a nice place called Bacca over in the Castro district. I called for a reservation at 8 pm, and we all took a breather for an hour or so before going out for one last meal!

The designated driver was back in charge of our transportation, so we drove around looking for the restaurant and ended up in a neat little neighborhood in upscale Noe' Valley, just east of The Castro.. As usual, the designated driver drove around the side streets looking for the one open parking place and finally found success on a side street a couple of blocks from the restaurant. While we were walking around a bit, Matt's friend finally called him on his cell! Matt told him he was on his way to a big family dinner and would get back to him later! We got there right on time, were seated at a very good table, had two bottles of wine and some very good food, and some good conversation. Most of the time it was me against the rest of the table. I usually held my own by making sure everyone had a full wine glass at all times.! Even Matt had wine! It was our most expensive meal of the week--I put it on the credit card! So the bill will be out of sight for about a month!

Matt never did get back to his friend.

San Francisco--Across the Golden Gate--Day 2

FARLEY'S

Friday was our second day all together in the City. Surprisingly, it was another bright, sunny morning in a city known for grey skies. I was first up and out, making my way up the street to Farley's for some of their nice strong coffee and a scone with lots of butter and jam. I was not the first customer that morning, and some other early riser had been nice enough to leave a copy of the day's Chronicle for me to read. ( I also left it in good condition, but with the crossword completed. I wonder how many readers it had during the day,and if they were disappointed that the crossword was completed!) In about 30 minutes Nancy joined me with her double cappachino and muffin, and preceded to write the latest thoughts of her adventure in her journal. Since I had allready consumed the paper, she mentioned that there was a row of journals on the adjacent shelf where guests could write comments or produce some art. I picked up a couple and paged through noting that most of the pages were filled with poorly done drawings, some comments, and some crayon work by children. There was an occasional page where visitors wrote some nice words about the heavy caffiene content of Farley's brews.
I found a reasonable looking journal with mostly blank pages and proceeded to create a three stanza poem describing the bright morning sun, the city as seen from the hill on which Farley's (and I) was perched, and my excitement and anticipation of the day before me! I signed it not so creatively as "A Visitor from San Diego". I'm sure that many who read it in the future will wonder why someone from "sunny" San Diego would come to San Francisco and write an ode about "sunny" San Francisco! San Francisco's mood is supposed to be cool, foggy, misty, wet, with umbrellas, raincoats, hats, and a muted romanticism personified by the towers of the Golden Gate probing above a fog bank rolling into the bay. I think that Nancy was probably disappointed with the weather while we were there, and would have much preferred the need for an umbrella at least part of the week!

GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE

We headed back to the apartment a bit after nine, and both Matt and Sara were almost up and ready to go. Sara wanted coffee, so it was back to Farley's for a quick stop. Our plan for the day was to drive over the Golden Gate Bridge (GGB) to Sausalito, get some takeout for lunch, and drive to Muir Woods to eat under the redwoods. Our designated driver loaded us up and headed across town towards the bridge. I had a map, and trying to be a good designated back seat driver, made some very excellent suggestions regarding what looked like the best route to take across town. My suggestion was quickly derided by the designated driver, who was fully supported by her mother, to whom I then gave the map! After driving wildly up and down hills in the general direction of the the other side of town, we soon were on Rte 101 north heading to the Presidio and the GGB. It now costs $5 to cross the bridge, but only when you are coming in from the north. Going out is a free ride. That's something to remember! On the north end of the bridge is a big parking area with great views of the bridge and the City across the bay. There were tour buses, lots of cars, and a pile of people walking around taking pictures of each other with digital cameras, so they could "spam" them to all their friends when they got home to prove they were actually there! The designated driver made me go back to the car to get my camera, and I joined the crowd. (Unfortunately, since I was the photographer during the whole trip, I have no pictures of myself to prove that I actually am writing this memoir from my own memories!)

We looked hard at the bridge for awhile, viewed the west side of Alcatraz, visited the very fine restrooms, and piled into the car to our next stop at Sausalito.

SAUSALITO AND MUIR WOODS/BEACH

It had been about 30 years since I had last been to Sausalito, and as we drove into town it was hard to remember what it had been like back then. My impression was that it had been a bit touristy, but still quaint and village-like, with a seaside beachy feel. The bay ferry makes a stop here, but I suppose today it mostly brings tourists or perhaps some boat owners who may have their private boat moored at the marina. It still has a village-like feel to it, but in 30 years the main street has become just an upscale tourist destination filled with shops selling art, trinkets, and things to eat. It is probably a nice ferry ride, but otherwise I didn't think it was worth a visit anymore. We did find a nice deli which had good sandwiches, and loaded up for our picnic stop at Muir Woods which was next on our intinerary.

Muir Woods is only a few miles west of Sausilito. It is probably the most visited redwood grove in the world, and is part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. GGNRA is the largest urban National Park, emcompassing 76,500 acres. It includes Alcatraz Island, the Presidio, Cliff House, Ocean Beach, and Stinson Beach and more! As we cut inland off of 101, it became more mountainous and the road became more nauseous, weaving back and forth as it snaked into the back country. With the designated driver tailgating the row of cars in front of us, and taking the curves ala Mario Andretti, riding in the back seat provided good excercise for my abs, alternating tenseness and relaxation, tenseness and relaxation, as she wheeled and braked around the curves. Since I had earlier gave up giving guidance, I just endured!

As we approached Muir Woods we noted a sign stating that the first parking area was full--which I thought was odd for a Friday! I could not believe that the pile of people could extend so far out into the countryside. We passed a sign that said "Stinson Beach", and the designated driver said that she always wanted to go there. "That's where they have great white sharks!", she said.

So the decision was made to go onward and share our lunch with the great whites! In a mile or so I saw a sign that said "Muir Beach Overlook" and said "Turn in there". To my surprise the designated driver actually took my suggestion and whipped the wheel left up the entry road. We entered a parking lot high on the cliff overlooking the ocean, and I noticed a number of picnic tables. A perfect place for lunch! There was an outhouse, picnic tables, four old WWII gun and observation bunkers, a friendly local yellow lab, and a path out to a viewpoint overlooking a beach far below. The wind was blowing a bit, whitecaps were pitching over the bows of a few boats a mile or so off the coast, and the sun was sparkling off the spray whipped up by the wind. Best of all, there were only a few other people in sight! The sandwiches were to big to eat in one setting, but good. Matt ate all of his! The lab got all the scraps. (He roamed from table to table, laying underfoot looking for opportunities)

STINSON SHARKS!

Stinson Beach was another 5 or so miles down the road. It was a nice surprise! A quiet place this time of the year. Very out of the way, and yet a big, long beautiful beach that must be very crowded during the summer months. We stopped and walked a bit on the beach, and read the warning signs regarding the Great White (Someone was killed in 6 ft of water a couple of years ago). We shopped through the few funky stores in the little downtown area. There was a very nice art gallery filled with quilts and the work of local artists. Nancy got the lowdown on all the good quilters and quilt stores in the north bay area.

I was drawn to an old guy who had an small outdoor flea market--more like a garage sale. Next to his chair was a half empty bottle of bourbon that occassionaly fueled his sales pitch. I ended up buying a set of matching 1950's bedroom lamps with period shades for $10. (originally $20). I am a sucker for a deal! With all the shopping activity by Nancy and Sara, mine was the only purchase! Taking action is such a guy thing! So Stinson Beach was a worthy destination for a day trip out of the city!

CHINATOWN, MY CHINATOWN!

It all started in 1848 when two Chinese men and one women arrived in San Francisco on the American Brig, Eagle. Then in 49 there was the gold rush. and then the railroads..., and now San Francisco has the largest Chinatown outside of Asia.

Our plan for the evening was to eat in China Town and have an after dinner drink in North Beach. So we headed back to the GGB, paid our $5 toll coming in, and the designated driver barrelled over hill and dale to China Town, where we drove around looking for the one open parking space on the street. We finally gave up and when we saw a sign for a parking ramp, deciding that ten or so bucks for parking for the evening didn't seem so bad, considering the alternative of driving around for an hour. Plus, we were on vacation! It was in the budget!

We walked up and down and around China Town. Nancy and Sara shopped, and Matt wandered in and out of a few stores as well. Sara and Nancy each bought a silk billfold, and a couple of small silk coin purses. Matt was looking for something for his girlfriend--but didn't find anything worthy. I just stood around outside the stores fascinated by the variety of people moving up and down the street. Everyone who takes a trip to the west coast usually starts or ends in SF. And they all go to China Town. If one listens and observes, all languages sooner or later pass by on the street.

We had dinner at a well known "middle class" place on the fringe of China Town and North Beach called Lichee Garden on Powell St. Nancy found it in one of her dining out books. It was a very reasonable family style place filled with chinese families eating very large plates of all kinds of good chinese food, and drinking 7UP poured from 1.5 liter plastic bottles! We ordered a pot sticker, egg rolls, the highly recommended egg foo yung, sweet and sour pork, a beef dish, and chow mein with pan fried noodles. Nancy and I split a bottle of wine, and Matt and Sara had Chinese beer. How did I remember all that?It must have been memorable! It filled the table and us too!!Surprisingly, we managed to devour most all of it, although we did take home a couple of boxes of leftovers that we ended up leaving in a trash bag at the apartment! Even the fortune cookies were good, although the fortunes were pretty bland!

CITY LIGHTS

To walk it off, we hoofed it down a couple of blocks and spent some time at that famous bookstore, City Lights. It is right across the street from the Condor Club (I remember Carol Doda topless) in the heart of North Beach. I found a stool to sit on, and looked at a few left wing radical publications while the rest of the left wing radicals in the family wandered about looking for something to sooth their literary souls.

North Beach is a great place to walk at night just because of all the action. Lots of cafes and night spots, and of course, lots of people. But it is not just tourists--many locals as well! It's a date place! We stopped at a cafe, got a table at a window, and I had a double expresso which should have kept me awake all night, but didn't.

So day 2 covered alot of territory, from Stinson Beach to North Beach! Give me some rest!

San Francisco--"A Pile of People"--Day 1.

ARRIVAL

My wife, Nancy, decided that we should have a family meeting in San Francisco for a week.
Her roots go back to the early days of San Francisco and she has a sense of homecoming" every time she visits. It has been probably 20+ years since our last visit, and she wanted to take Sara and Matt and have us all spend some time together discovering her history. She got on the computer one day with a credit card in hand, made airline reservations, and a phone call setting up a weekly rental, and announced to everyone that they should block off the week on their calendars! And that was that!

So she flew up on a Monday. Sara lives in Santa Cruz and was going to pick her up and the two of them were to spend three days together doing girlie things before Matt and I arrived on Thursday. Nancy's plane arrived Monday at about 10:20. At 11:30 I got a call on my cell phone from Sara wondering whether Nancy had made her flight, because she had been driving around the airport for an hour and had not seen her. I called Nancy on her cell phone. She had been waiting outside patiently at the curb for over an hour on the upper level. Sara had been driving around and around the lower level. They finally did get together!

Aren't cell phones handy sometimes! (Sara is Santa Cruz "organic" and doesn't want a cell phone)

When Matt and I arrived on Thursday, I called Nancy cell to cell, and they were just a minute away from picking us up, on the lower arrival level! Experience is a great teacher!

DIGS!

Nancy had a friend who knew someone in SF who rented out an apartment in her home on a weekly basis to "select" recommended people--and I guess we all passed muster. It was located in the Potrero district which is directly south of downtown a few miles and east of the Castro and Mission districts. It is a quiet neighborhood with great views of the downtown skyline. It is also the home of the Anchor Brewing Company, and is the neighboorhood where O. J. Simpson grew up. There is still a mural of him on a wall in the local recreation center. Better still, it had a great coffee house called "Farley's" just a couple blocks from us. During the week it opened at 6 am, and since I generally get up early, I was often one of their first customers. With the exception of Matt who is not a coffee person, we all made it our daily launch pad!

TOURING WITH THE TOURIST "PILE"

We picked up some sandwiches at a local deli, and had a pleasant lunch in the back garden at the apartment and planned our adventure for our first afternoon together in the City. I was ready to do touristy things, especially since Matt had never been to the City before and needed to see the sights.

Since Sara had a car, she was the "designated" driver. I thought to be the "designated" backseat driver, although every time I made a comment I was yelled at and beat down! Sara had been to the City a number of times during the last few years and knew her way around reasonably well. She fit right into the city driving milieu; she complained about everyone who stopped or cut her off, and usually was fully supported by her mother who had a tendancy to flip them off as we drove by! We drove downtown, parked in a parking structure, and headed out to Union Square to buy a 3 day MUNI pass. We figured we then could use public transportation most of the time and ride the cable cars as much as we wanted. (Cable Car fare is $3, everything else about half that!). I thought the tourist season would be winding down and that mid-week would be somewhat quiet! But there was a pile of people in town. There was an outdoor art show in Union Square. On Thursday! Of course the lines were so long to get on one of the cable cars, that we decided we could probably walk to where we were going before we would even get on one! Buses and the electric trollies proved to be a lot easier to use and were really the best way to get around, although not so "romantic". We played tourist and spent most of the day on the embarcadero, walked Pier 39 with the pile of people, saw all the sea lions laying about, gawked at the horde of tourists taking pictures and buying trinkets and stuff, went to Fisherman's Wharf, visited the amusement "museum", and looked at the old WWII submarine. Matt and Sara wanted to go see the Ripley's Believe it or Not exhibit, so for an hour, Nancy and I walked over to Ghiradelli Square and had an ice cream and sat on a bench!! Matt and Sara thought that Ripley's was really "cool" and well worth the 12 buck admission! I guess the oddities must have been odious enough to entertain and "gross out" the younger generation! By the time one hits 60 or so, nothing much is odd anymore!

THE BUENA VISTA!

We all walked up to the Buena Vista "Saloon" where Sara and Nancy attacked some "Cosmos" and Matt and I each had a Sierra Gold Ale. (nice and hoppy) We looked out the window at the Cable Car turnaround station and watched the mass of people lined up to take the ride up Nob Hill, back down to China Town and finally to the Market Street stop. It reminded me of the most popular "E" ride ticket at Disneyland on their busiest day of the year! I knew we had to ride the Cable Car at least once for Matt since he had never been on one, but did not look forward to standing in line for an hour or so to do it! Maybe later at night would be better. The cars ran till 10 pm. We walked back down to the embarcadero and caught a trolley down to pier 23.

PIER 23

At pier 23 there is a very old hangout called "Pier 23" which Sara knew from a prior trip that was a very popular bayside eating and drinking joint with the locals. It was very casual, and relatively inexpensive. The menu showed basic seafood, hamburgers/sandwiches, some live music, and what seemed like a younger downtown crowd. I thought it was perfect! We sat outside with a great bay view, had a beer, fish and chips, ahhh! Dinner for 4 with drinks and tip was about 60-70 bucks!! And that included salad and a big plate of calimari! My kind of place!

COIT TOWER

Right above pier 23 to the west is Coit Tower. That was another must see, and Sara said she knew about some "secret" stairs just a block or so away that went all the way up the hill. My thought, as I looked up at what seemed to me a rival of the Mattehorn, was no way! Couldn't we just go back and get the car and drive up there? No one was going along with that! So we were off on our adventure! And indeed, there appeared to be steps leading upward at the end of a small street . So up we started. I wondered aloud if I would make it with my "heart condition". I was reproached with some disdainful stares! I climbed! There were homes built into the "cliff" on our way up, and it seemed to me that many of them had no other access other than the stairs we were climbing. I envisioned people hauling up bags of groceries and gasping as they climbed to altitude.

About halfway up, there was a road cut into the side of the hill which provided access to some of the homes, and to a fancy restaurant called "Julius' Castle", which was a converted mansion perched on the edge of the cliff. The views were spectacular, at least 180 degrees all across the bay. There was valet parking, and some cars parked near the "castle" with a couple of valets hanging loosely about. I walked over and checked the menu posted outside the entrance. . It looked pretty upscale, $$$$. Maybe it would be suitable for just a special occassion sometime! Onward up the next section of steps, and by some more homes until the top was reached and spilled us out onto the parking lot of the Coit Tower. The climb felt like a great accomplishment!!

The tower was originally built as a signal tower. It is 210 ft high and is on Telegraph Hill near the bay (alt. 274 ft). A donation of $100000 was made by Lillie Hitchcock Coit to build the tower back in 1933. She had been rescued as a young girl by the fire department and dedicated the tower in honor of the City firefighters. A couple years after it was built a project was commissioned to cover the inside walls of the lower level of the tower with painted murals. They are in a herioc style, have been well preserved, and represent the work and activity of the residents of the area. For a small fee we all hopped on the elevator for a ride to the top observation deck. The Chinese elevator operator/guide gave us a short talk about the tower on the way up-most of which I couldn't understand. I gave him a buck anyway on the way down! It was the sunset of a bright clear day, and not only did we see the sun go down, we saw all the lights of the city and the bridges sparkle as night settled in. It was the best and most beautiful time of day to visit.

Going down the steps was alot easier, although it was dark and not well lighted in some areas. Just as I was saying that everyone should be careful and hang on to the rail, Nancy actually slipped on a step and took a tumble against the rail and hit her back on it. She had to stop and sit for a moment! It was a sore spot for a week! But we made it the rest of the way safely and now know a "secret stair" spot in San Francisco that is probably not known to many "tourists".

MATT'S CABLE CAR

We still had to get Matt on a Cable Car. We caught a trolley back to Fisherman's wharf and walked up to the Cable Car turnaround . It was about 8:30 pm. There was still a fairly long line waiting, but it was only about a third as long as what we saw in the late afternoon. It looked to be about a 45 min line. While we waited we were serenaded by a old grizzled, bearded banjo player who looked to be a regular at this location. He had a big pile of quarters in the banjo case sitting out front of his stool. He obviously was doing well financially! With the pile of people passing by him in line every day, I thought that he probably made enough picking his banjo to live in one of the local high rise penthouse apartments in the area.

We finally got on a Cable Car. All four of us had to hang on to a bar and stand on the outside "running board". I think Matt thought that was cool. (I did too!) Our operator did lots of "ding-dings" on his bell, and had some humerous remarks here and there as he pulled on the levers, alternately braking and grabbing the cable to make it stop and go! Yes, it was just like an "E" ride at Disneyland.

When we got down to the end of the line at Market Street, there was a pile of people waiting to hang on all the way back to the other end!

Our first day in the City--we had a great time just being part of the "pile"!

At Play in the Sun

We're having a heat wave! Some times it almost gets tropical in San Diego. There has been a big high pressure area sitting over Southen California this week pushing temps up and almost breaking records in some areas. It's been in the high 80's in some places along the beach which has really brought out the sun worshipers. Of course it drops to a manageable 62-65 at night in the beach area--so it's not intolerable like I am sure it is further inland. It's a reminder that Socal is pretty much a semi arid desert climate. San Diego only averages about 9 inches of rain each year, and during the last 4-5 years has recieived on average only about half that. We are actually in a drought of sorts and many of the reseuvoirs are at very low capacities. So we drag more water from up north and from the Colorado to water the lawns and wash the cars!

I am now playing golf early Wed morns with the men's club I belong to! This week we had a four man scramble tournement with each team composed of an A,B,C,& D level player (A being best) In our group I was the "B". (My handicap index is 13.2 at the moment and trending down towards my goal of a single digit! then perhaps I will be an "A"). Unfortunately our "A" player didn't show up! That put our team at a big disadvantage in a scramble format. In a scramble, all four hit a shot, then you pick the best result, and everyone hits from that location, etc. So, e.g., if one of the team hits it on the green 6 ft from the hole, everyone gets to putt from that location. There are four chances to make the putt. The team posts just one score! Ya gotta figure that with a good "A" player hitting a lot of good shots, scores are going to be low--maybe the winner will be 13-15 under par with handicap. Most of 4-man teams had a 3.5 handicap, and because we were playing without our "A" player we got 5.5.

I hit some great drives on the right holes putting us in good position to get on the green. Our "D" player made some good putts, and we ended up with no bogeys, and 6 birdies. Add our handicap strokes and we ended up the winners! It was 50 bucks apiece! Could have knocked me over with a sand wedge!

It was so much fun that the next day I went out on a half day boat out of Oceanside harbor to see if my luck would hold and would fill my bag with some Calico or Sand Bass, or maybe a yellowtail.
Every time I go fishing on the Thursday P.M. boat, I always manage to meet up with a couple of old fishermen who are weekly regulars. This week it was Mike who was 80--and a retired civil engineer. So I leared a bit about engineering. I also met Kay, who I remembered from the last time I went a few weeks ago. She was probably in her late 60's, 5 ft tall with a spining outfit bigger that she was. Mike and Kay knew each other--of course--since they usually came the same day of the week. Mike said Kay kept busy either fishing, or pulling the slots at the Indian casinos around San Diego. I kidded Kay that she was helping to buy all the Indians a Mercedes.

Of course, Kay outfished us both! The fishing was pretty slow. I caught only one Calico Bass, and a small White Sea bass which had to be released. Mike caught and released a couple small White Sea bass , and Kay caught 3 nice Calicos. I gave my bass to Mike for his dinner!

But it was a nice day on the water. I did see a guy in a private boat near us land a 20lb yellowtail. He chased it all around us to land it with his small boat. There were 18 on our boat--and I think the jackpot fish was about a 3 lb sand bass. The only excitement was when a guy next to me caught an eel about 3 ft long, and the deck hand really didn't know how to handle it. He was pushing it around with a net and didn't want to handle it because it was ugly and someone said he could get "shocked" to death! I don't think most eels are "electric" It was the first eel I ever saw caught on a fishing boat--so who knows--kind of funny though! He finally pushed it off the deck through a scupper slot. Only thing I didn't like about it was that he cut the leader above the sinker and left the hook and sinker in the eel, which probably doomed the eel! A hook will usually rust out in a few days, but I hate to think that the poor eel would be sitting on the bottom "tethered" to that sinker wondering whether he was ever going to escape his ball and chain.

Ah well! Guess I am just a bleeding heart, even for ugly creatures!

The Poem Unwritten--a poem

"The Poem Unwritten"

It's sometimes hard,
To think in Rhyme,
And write the words,
That beat the tyme,

Of poetry.

Those moments that,
The pen won't flow,
The eyes just stare,
The mind is slow,

Awandering.

To grope the muse,
And shake and moan,
One might as well,
Just leave the poem,

Unwritten!

By Mark Worden
2003

Bubbles--a poem

"Bubbles"

Bubbles come from everywhere,
Lightly float up in the air,
Soar like Monarch Butterflies,
Gentle wings upon the skies.

Bubbles fly up to the moon,
Orbit round, and then to soon,
Float of to race,
Far off in space.

Bubbles fall down to the Earth,
And with decent, a cause of mirth,
They tickle worst,
Just when they burst!

Bubbles are a gift of joy,
Are blown by every little boy,
With soap and water and a ring,
A small soft breath exhaling.

Bubbles can be used to dance,
Champange music, in a trance,
Glitter off of candlelight,
Light the music of the night.

Bubbles seem to be the cause,
To brighten eyes, and give one pause,
To feel how great that life can be,
So long as bubbles float up free.

By Mark Worden
2002

Weekend Update

Was this a busy weekend? Here it is, Sunday night and I am not sure that I really accomplished much. I did fix the water lines to the icemaker and the water in the door this week. The ice maker line was easy. It was a standard 1/4 " plastic line and the Home Depot had the line and the parts it took to "splice" it. The water line was 5/16" and I had to chase all over town to find it. So what should have been one trip to the store and about 20 minutes on the "job, took a couple of days of fooling around. Must have pulled that refrigerator away from the wall about 5 times over the 3 days I fooled around with it! Every little job is a learning experience. Seems I am into plumbing lately. Last weekend I changed out our 3 toilets to low flush, and replaced the bases on all our bathroom faucets, since they were all corroded due to the wonderful water we have here. Isn't that interesting!!!

I decided that the old Gateway computer we had just was not cutting it. It is a sad state of affairs when the computer that Nancy and I have is about 6 or 7 yrs old and our son Matt has a newer high powered desktop as well as a newer laptop his friends gave him for his birthday this year. Nice bunch of friends huh! So last week I went out to Fry's and bought a "new" refubished Compact desktop that he tells me is a lot better than his. I feel much better now. It is the dream of every male to have something bigger and better than the next guy, and certainly that goes for fathers and sons! In retailiation, he went out this weekend and bought a $600 surround sound stereo system for his 32" TV that he has in his room upstairs. I bought him that TV last year for Xmas since his old 25" inch hand me down finally had finally flickered out! (It was on sale at Best Buy Cheap!) So now he not only has a bigger TV upstairs than we have downstairs, but it also has a sub woofer that will rattle the walls! I think the only way I will be back in the primo position in this house in regards to such things is when he leaves next year to transfer to a university to finish his education! He has vowed to take all his gismos and gadgets with him.

Of course, that means that I will have no one on my "staff" to go to if I have a problem or need some direction with all this stuff that goes on somewhere on the inside of my computer. I had better sit down with him periodically and start soaking up the technical aspects of Windows XP.

I did manage to spend most of the day on Saturday out shopping with Matt for a new printer and, of course, his sound system. It is not often I get to spend most of a day with Matt. We even had a hotdog lunch at Costco. As soon as we got home his girlfriend came over and they were gone!

Garage saleing was pretty mediocre this week. Found some good golf balls cheap, and a brand new Footjoy golf glove still in the package. The neatest thing was a very nice sound system for my new computer for $15. It has picture frame speakers and a subwoofer and I think retails for around $80. I offered it to Matt, but when he tried it he said the high range on the speakers wasn't up to his standards, but the bass was very good. It was new condition and I thought it sounded great! Sooner or later, everything turns up at a garage sale! Garage Saleing sometimes seems to me like a strange thing to do fairly regularly on Saturday morning. I can't really think of anything I really "shop" for or need. Many weeks I spend $0. Some weeks maybe $2-3. Sara wants me to find her a 9 ft+ surfboard, and one of these weeks I will bump into one. New ones cost $550-650, and I will probably get a good one for $2oo-250. It gets me up about 6:30 and off to the local java joint for coffee and I am back by 9 am. I listen to a fishing show on a local radio station from 7-9 am as I drive around town. Pretty good way to start the day!

Did an open house Sunday afternoon from 1-4. Had three people show up! Quick read a James Patterson Murder mystery while I was there! Market has slowed down lately. I think people were getting fed up with pricing. Home values have gone up over 30% in the last 12 months! I have a couple clients right now who are selling and moving back to Kansas. One is selling a 1400 sq ft condo here for 438000 and buying a 2500 sq ft 4 bedroom home on a nice lot in Manhatten Kansas for about $220000. Of course it is all location! It is a long way to the beach from Manhatten, Kansas! The other has a 3100 sq ft home which will sell for about $800000, and I'm sure they will be very happy with somethng at less than $250000 as well! If one doesn't mind Kansas, seems like a pretty good move--pay cash for a house, put the rest in the bank or investments and relax. No more rat race! It appeals to me. But I think maybe Oregon/Washington. Funny thing is, everyone still wants to move to San Diego. And, they all need a place to live. Builders can't build enough new homes to keep up with demand in California, so I doubt if we will see much reduction in pricing in the future. But it will level out. Can't keep going up at a 30% a year rate for very long.

I must have been busy this weekend. Didn't even get down to the beach to do a little surf fishing.

STATIC

Here it is two weeks after I "hired" my Mr. fix-it/painter to rebuild my deck and paint my house. Where has he been? He came around the other day and told me that because it took me a few days to make my mind up initially, he had scheduled another job for an old lady in Escondido. Hey! I partial paid him $1200 up front for the paint job and another $950 for the deck. He has been drawing interest on my money with no sweat produced.

But he is now at work! I have actually seen him sawing and pounding! I told him that it would be nice if the job could be done by the end of August! That seemed reasonable to me. I have not seen enough progress so far this month which would lead me to expect that he will meet that target. He is also doing my neighbor's house at the same time. My wife Nancy is not enthralled with having a stranger in the back yard pounding and painting for the next few weeks, even though "Don" is a very nice guy. The backyard is piled up with lumber and "stuff". It is all a disruption to what is the normal flow of life. It's like two months of unwanted static!

Perhaps we are getting old and less flexible! Ah, I tell her. Just wait til it is all done. The house will look nice. The deck won't fall down! We can then call the termite company and have the house tented and gas all the leftover termites eating away within the bowels of the house. We can take a few days when they tent it and go somewhere for a mini vacation. Then I will buy her a new high end stove for the kitchen and all will be well in our little world again!!