Pismo Beach was still socked in with a cool marine layer of fog. It didn't bother the surfers, who were taking advantage of an easy swell. A pokey little coffee shop in town got our motors runnung and we were off down Highway 101 to Van Morrison's
Down the Road I Go. The fog played coy the whole way as the highway and the coast wandered closer and farther apart, through Santa Barbara and Ventura to Calabasas, where we cut over to the Pacific Coast Highway at Malibu and finally to Santa Monica.
The kind folks at La Meridien Delfina welcomed us with a glass of bubbly and settled in to take stock of our situation. You know you're in LA when even the kids are deadly cool. Meet Wilder.
The hotel was about 8 blocks from the Santa Monica Pier, which one vendor described as a scene from the movie
Airplane. Evangelicals, Hari Krishna, street musicians and a pretty fair cross section of the entire human race. One exception was the brawny boys at Muscle Beach; maybe cool fog was incompatible with strutting.
At the pier, we found what a vendor enthused was "the real end of Route 66, where the original travelers from Oklahoma came to dip their feet in the Pacific Ocean." After further research, we found at least six such "real" ends to Route 66 and another declaring pointedly that there was no beginning or end, only termini, because one could start and finish at either end. We are learning that Route 66 is not just a road to be traveled, but a quest - an ideal. We saw pictures of a seeker digging through tumbleweeds and brush looking for pieces of old pavement that would prove an old road grade was part of the original route. Um, we aren't doing that in our sedan.
The evening was a special treat - dinner with Rhos and Andrea Dyke. We first met them in the '70s (?!?!) in Calgary, all fresh-faced and squeaky in our first post-undergrad jobs. We haven't been in touch nearly enough, and the night turned out to be a large one. After several bottles of wine, we had solved most of the country's political problems and were starting on the rest of the world, when their son, Lancelot, got home from a Dodgers game and brought some sense to the evening.
Lancelot has studied and traveled Route 66 over several years and had tons of advice, such as not getting too hung up on the real and original route. He told how he was nearly stuck when the road frayed from asphalt to dirt to corn field. It's starting to sound like the dream of a '63 Corvette down the open road should really be something like a Unimog. Our Mazda will have to do.
License plate count - Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Florida, Kansas, Minnesota, Montana, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Nevada, Oregon, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee. Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, and Washington. And from Oh Canada - British Columbia and Quebec.
Today our book recommendation comes from a guest. Andrea worked in a small independent books store in the LA area for several years. I asked her if she could recommend a book and her eye popped open wide and she said "Yes, I do have a book to recommend."
The kindness of strangers is a memoir about showbiz from the early 20th century. It begins in the theaters of Vienna, Prague and Berlin and ends in the golden years of Hollywood in the 1930's. Sounds like something to put on my Libby wishlist.
Our musical selection of the day celebrates Ventura Highway, which we flew down in the afternoon. This rendition features Hector Telez Jr., playing with our beloved Raul Malo of The Mavericks on bass guitar, and his son on drums. Nice!!
At the pier, we found what a vendor enthused was "the real end of Route 66, where the original travelers from Oklahoma came to dip their feet in the Pacific Ocean." After further research, we found at least six such "real" ends to Route 66 and another declaring pointedly that there was no beginning or end, only termini, because one could start and finish at either end. We are learning that Route 66 is not just a road to be traveled, but a quest - an ideal. We saw pictures of a seeker digging through tumbleweeds and brush looking for pieces of old pavement that would prove an old road grade was part of the original route. Um, we aren't doing that in our sedan.
.jpg)
It looks great. Are all California babies that cute. Have a great sleep in and enjoy
ReplyDeleteNot all as cute, and not all as quiet.
ReplyDeleteEntering a comment from brother-in-law Philip. It was too good to not publish.
ReplyDeleteTaking a cue from you, I downloaded Travels With Charley to follow your progress that way, too. I realized that I had read this book a long time ago when I came to the stainless steel roadside diner with food never touched by the human hand. I've enjoyed this re-read so much, I guess, because I like Steinbeck's way with the language as well as his story and characterizations - especially of Charley. I think that John was getting pretty tired of his journey after the start of his return from California. I thought of this as I read of you questioning your endurance while only 1/4 of the way into your trek.