aggienaut | Entries tagged with california

Monday, July 10th - In the early evening we drove from my brother's place on Alameda Island in the Bay Area to Davis, about an hour inland to the northeast. I noted the mothball fleet at Suisun Bay which had been dozens of old Navy ships all moored up in lines when I was more regularly traveling that route 15 years ago, now was reduced to just three or four vessels.

   Our first stop was noted Davis pizza place Woodstocks Pizza. Which... was not where I left it. It had just move down a few lots down the same block, though during Covid that street itself (G Street) had been turned into a pedestrian only street and from the looks of it may remain so.
   Since we were getting the pizza to go, I led the way to the Davis Beer Shoppe across the street to get accompanying beverages. As remembered, they had a great selection. There were two delicious beers I wanted to get for $18 and $15 respectively but dad scoffed at the price so I was shamed into getting a cheaper but still delicious one. I was covetous to sneak back there and get them later but never got around to it, rather to my regret. Yes that's a high price when you're thinking beer like "bud light," but compared to a bottle of wine that's not outrageous and a beer of this quality is imo more than comparable to a good wine -- it's rarer, takes more skill to make and I like it a lot better.

The Mad River" one didn't excite me much but the other three! the one on the right is the one I got in the end

   Anyway, we then proceeded to my aunt and uncle Ben and Bev's place. Inside the house it smelled vaguely of popcorn, which I didn't put together until the next morning, when Ben was talking about how he had roasted the coffee beans the night before -- he has a coffee roaster in the garage. They had already eaten but sat with us on their nice outdoor patio while we ate the delicious pizza. The Woodstocks pizza was indeed as delicious as I remembered, as was the beer I'd gotten.

Tuesday, July 11th - In the morning I checked off another eatery from my list. Met up with my friend Casey "the wizard" at Crepeville. Case tutors in physics and is rather a recognized character on campus due to his penchant for wearing capes and such, and hence commonly known to one and all as "the wizard." I had the "hawaiian crepe," a crepe stuffed with ham, pineapple, and teriyaki sauce. It is delicious.
   While we were eating I noted yet more e-bikes go by. America seems to be in the grip of a plague of them! Casey mentioned that electric scooters have been around for awhile, but somehow that doesn't offend my notions of propriety the same way. A scooter is for hopping on and off and scooting about, it is fitting and inoffensive for it to be electric. But gosh darn bikes are meant to be gosh darn peddled!!

   Around mid day my parents and I set out with uncle Ben to go on a short day hike a bit out of town at Lake Berryessa. As we were driving through town Ben told us about a shocking set of knife attacks that had occurred in Davis only two months ago at the end of April / beginning of May. Very sadly, the very first victim was a local Davis character known as "The Compassion Guy." The Compassion Guy, Davis Breaux had graduated from Stanford, but, to quote wikipedia "After a breakup with a girlfriend, Breaux became dejected and began "searching for inspiration", according to the New York Times.[1] He discovered the work of Karen Armstrong, who argued that "compassion was inherent to peace".[1] He gave away his possessions and moved to Davis in 2009.[1] Breaux typically carried a notebook with him, and asked passersby to contribute to it by writing their definition of compassion.[1] Local residents and workers at businesses in the area considered him "a communal therapist of sorts", according to the Times.[1] He was known as "the Compassion Guy"."
   The knife murderer was a former UC Davis student who had been expelled just a day or two prior and murdered Breaux on the bench he was known to hang out around, already known as "the Compassion Bench" (I had noticed it and its current covering in flowers earlier on my way back from Crepeville).
   While this crime was still unsolved and not yet known to be the beginning of a spree, two days later a promising young computer science student was attacked in a park, also with a large knife. One or more passersby intervened and chased off the attacker but the victim died of his severe wounds.
   Two days later he attacked a homeless woman in her tent, she was wounded but she escaped and managed to call 911.
   As you can imagine by now the whole little town was in fear. Apparently the suspect was sighted at one point but the police took over an hour to arrive at the location and by then he had walked off. Then he was sighted the next day near the park of the original attack, and once again the police took 40 minutes (this is a small town something of this priority should take mere moments) to arrive. The police have claimed they were inundated with erroneous tips at the time, which I'd imagine is somewhat true but it still seems like they should have been able to respond more quickly. Especially since something like 15 people called him in when sighted at this park before the police arrived. You'd think by the third or fourth call reporting someone matchign the description of the suspect at the same park he'd attacked at earlier the police would send someone pronto. I have a generally dim view of the Davis police due to their declining to do anything about some guys who jumped me in a park there in 2002 and left me unconscious, even though my own investigation came up with their names, where they worked and lived. But police said it was "just a fight." Knocked unconcious begad.
   This all makes Davis sound really unsafe but I swear it really is a very peaceful little town it just has someone lose their marbles once every 20 years.

   Anyway so we drove about an hour west and went on a hike up by Lake Berryessa (famously a site where the Zodiac Killer did some murders in 1969). It was a bit hot and dry, but it was fun because both mom and uncle Ben are pretty keen on identifying plants and animals.

   We got back from that around maybe 14:30, hung out at Ben and Bev's place for a bit, but then were off again, to the swimming hole on the American River in Sacramento, about half an hour east of Davis.
   Despite the temperature pushing 100f (38c), the river was very cold. Too cold for me! But dad went swimming, he's never deterred by cold water. I did wade out up to my knees. There were a number of other people wading about in the cold river as well. And we marveled that there were about two dozen lifejackets on the bank that appeared to be just there for people to use and no one had run off with them or recklessly tossed them in the river for the fun of it. Sadly it seems shocking that no member of the public was so badly behaved.

   Back and Ben and Bev's that evening one by one more relatives got invited to dinner, until finally it was Ben and Bev, myself and my parents, Bev's mom (88, recently widowed), my cousin Chelsea (Ben & Bev's daughter), her husband and their two boys (10 & 12?); my cousin Sylvan (brother of the recently married Linnea), his girlfriend, and his mom Sherry (mother of the recently married Linnea). So it was about as many as sometimes one gets together for thanksgiving, though the dinner was much more simple. The primary entertainment was recounting the wedding, which we had all been at. Ben having been the "official photographer," with the nice DSLR and well and truly good photography skills, he showed us a slideshow of the photos he got after dinner. It reminded me of days of yore when the family would gather around for a slide show (actual slides!) of someone's vacation abroad.

Wednesday, July 12th - It was time to head back south! Except my brother Tobin had gone up to somewhere further in the foothills on the American River to camp with his son Kestrel, and we decided to go visit them there before heading back south. He was about an hour east of us near the town of Plymouth California. This is up in classic gold country, rolling rugged golden (with dry grass) hills covered in oak forest. Beautiful country. Through location sharing (on facebook?) we had a "last known location" for Tobin but kept coming up against locked gates and eventually gave up. As we'd find out later he was indeed actually behind one of these gates and there was a gate code, but at the time he'd gone out of cell phone range we hadn't yet resolved to go see him there and so this hadn't been communicated.
   But it wasn't a waste because we saw some beautiful country we hadn't seen before, and we had stopped in a little mexican restaurant in a small town on the way that was actually really delicious.

   Familiar drive down the length of California once we got back on The Five. When we stopped for gas at a place with a particularly large refrigerator of drinks I noticed some interesting ones I'd never seen before. What is "COca Cola Ultimate?" And "Dr Pepper Cream Soda?" I was curious about these but not in the mood for a soda at the time. And I noted Snapple has gone to a more rustic looking label?

   Got caught in traffic in LA in which we were at nearly a standstill for an hour. Apparently there was an "officer involved accident" just ahead and the whole freeway was closed off while it was investigated. There was an exit cars could get off the highway on but it was totally insufficient for the volume of cars on the freeway and in the hour we only moved .5 miles. Then it was cleared all at once and we went on our way, arriving home around 10pm.

Thursday, July 13th - Most just relaxed at home. Got doughnuts this morning. Got doughnuts for breakfast (as mentioned earlier they don't really do doughnuts in Australia). In the afternoon went to the beach. Again as usual I found the water too cold and just got my feet wet but dad swam about two kilometers, from one beach where we dropped him off, and mom and I drove to the next beach where dad came in after coming in past the pier, to emerge at the beach seemingly out of nowhere from the local beachgoers perspective. Many people were out enjoying the beach.

   From there we proceeded up the coast just a bit to Dana Point, where beloved tallship I used to volunteer on, The Pilgrim, had sadly sunk at her dock in March 2020. I of course haven't been back here since. I didn't know if there'd be anything left of her but we found some of her spars, anchors, and one of the tops (what you'd call a crow's nest but really its just called a top) and other bits. And then a little bit later after we'd walked to the breakwater and back we found some more pieces that had been more intentionally set up as a memorial of the ship. Somehow I feel like the pieces sitting cut up and seemingly discarded fit more with the general impression I'd had of the organization's ownership's general neglect of the ship. When she sank there was a lot of muttering that it was directly through the ownership's neglect that she sank.

   After that we had an early dinner at Pedro's Tacos, another classic local establishment, delicious burritos and tacos. While we sat there eating I noted many e-bikes going by, and also rather laughed to myself at the very California lingo of the surf dudes who walked up to the window to order, lots of "dude" and "bro" and words connected with "like."

   And now this is caught up! I can't believe my return to Australia is quickly approaching now, next Tuesday the 18th! At which point I'll be going right back into the heart of winter which I'm NOT excited about!

Current Music: Stan Rogers - The Marie Ellen Carter (Will Rise Again!)

Friday, July 7th - we drove up to Northern California along The Five. Of note, i thought The 5 was remarkably wide near home where it's six lanes on a side, but they're actually expanding it to eight per side.

Anyway so the drive takes one through the urban sprawl of OC and then LA, then up into the mountains north of LA until finally abruptly one descends into the broad flat Central Valley. Which is the bread basket of California and much of the US, but most of the south half is just a flat plain of tumbleweeds.

As is tradition we stopped at Kettleman City for In N Out for lunch. Place was a madhouse with a line out the door (it was 13:30 though, so still in lunch rush) but our food actually came pretty quickly. Faster than we could cycle ourselves through the bathroom line. Place needs to double in size.

Anyway the In N Out double double burger is a divine thing, it's only downside being that while eating it one is haunted by the bittersweet knowledge that one will not always be eating it. Also it's just slightly too small to thoroughly satisfy me. In N Out being endlessly customizable you can order a "3×3" which i did on this occasion but i think the divine proportions are off with that. It's still a damn good burger but you don't hear the angels singing while eating it.

I've been up the Five countless times but usually I'm headed all the way up to the Davis/Sacramento area or beyond. On this occasion we exited the central valley towards the south end of the Bay Area via the 152, through rolling golden hills. Little valleys of garlic farms gave way to the South Bay town of San Jose, we proceeded to the western edge of it, a cute little (expensively cute looking!) town called Saratoga, where we had a hotel for the night as it's the last civilization before the Santa Cruz forests.

Most of the restaurants in town were extremely pricey but we found an affordable fish and chips place and had a very nice meal. I had shrimp tacos and sangria :d

I remarked that it seemed like 60-70% of the cars driving by or that we'd seen parked were electric cars, and dad pointed out we were literally in "Silicon Valley," just beside Cupertino in fact. Later at the somewhat scarce parking around the wedding venue picnic site in the red woods i notice two of two illegally parked cars were teslas (i don't think they belonged to anyone attending the wedding).

Amusingly a historical plaque said this town was once a notoriously rough logging town noted for its drunken brawls at its many saloons. Now it seems mainly a place to drive your trophy wife date in your tesla to casually drop $100 per plate on a meal in a cute leafy place with quaint village charm just outside of the big city.

Saturday, July 8th - "continental breakfast" at our hotel was the better sort of individually wrapped mass produced pastries and yogurt cups. Then we drove up into the mountains, the road immediately becoming very curvy.

For all our collective lifelong interests in hiking in California wilderness areas neither my parents nor i really knew much about this immediate area so we were looking with avid interest at the forest valleys we passed and taking note of the busy trailheads.

The wedding location was seemingly as deep into the forest as one could get. In about the middle of it, and yet at the end of the long winding road so one felt not in the middle but at the far end of the back and beyond. The road finally descending deep into a narrow valley full on the giant redwoods. I had assumed Linnea and Pascal, the betrothed, had chosen this place because they'd become familiar with it while students at nearby Santa Cruz and knew this was the specific best redwood grove for a wedding -- but i learned they actually hadn't been here yet when they booked it (six months ago)!

Apparently there's a bit of a general grumble about the current booking system for national parks in California -- because there's no cost and no penalty for not showing up and intense competition for sites, people book up sites quickly six months in advance, then there plans change but they don't unbook and the site goes unused. We saw this first hand as we (my parents and i) almost couldn't get a spot. Finally got one at the furthest end of the campground due to either a last minute cancelation or some finagling amongst other family members with bookings, but then on arrival we found heaps of empty spots. (But you can't just take one because for all you know the rightful owners will show up at 9pm righteously irate at your squatting)

Pictured: Pascal attempts unsuccessfully to get through his vows without sentimental tears

Wedding ceremony was delightful. Aunty Bev (my aunt as well as the bride's aunt) officiated in her capacity as someone who had also married her highschool sweetheart. Linnea and Pascal had met in junior high, begun dating in high school. Ten years later now they've survived periods of attendance at different grad schools and all the other trials and tribulations of the first decade of adulthood. Linnea recently got her doctorate in neuro biology and Pascal in climatology.

In the evening "the younger crowd" of the bride and grooms college friends and us cousins who don't yet have small children wiled away the time around a big campfire. All their friends are climatologists, oceanographers, geologists and such so there were many interesting conversations and certainly a generally conservation minded world-view pervaded among all (incidentally my brother Eric, who was a Trump supporter, along with his immediate family, was not in attendance. He has cut all ties with me and a number of other family members).

I had turned off my phone when it got dark, having 10% left of the battery at that point. Even though there was no reception I'd been using it to take pictures until then, but wanted to save some to get back to the camp site. Just after midnight the group began to break up so i started heading back, turned on my shoes .. it displayed 0% for a moment before shutting off. Tried turning it on again in case that was a fluke but it immediately died!

I thought I'd see if i could find my way via what distant campfire and moonlight might exist, and got about 50 meters until i got to an area between the group camp where the wedding party's friends were and the main campground, and here there was no campfire light, and essentially no light from the moon or stars filtered down through the towering trees. Even after standing there for my eyes to adjust until i imagine they were round as saucers and entirely dilated, there was literally nothing to be seen. Literally not my hands in front of me. There was no way I'd be able to proceed like this no matter how persevering and can-do my attitude might be. My only hope would be maybe someone would loan me a flashlight or something if i returned whence I'd come. There was the faintest flickering of the distant dying campfire so i was able to shuffle back that way, bouncing off the burbs of the road like a ping pong ball.

As luck would have it i ran into my cousin Sylvan (literarily one night note his name means "of the forest" so he's the most appropriate rescue in the situation), brother of the bride, who was just getting water before bed with his girlfriend Marlee and they volunteered to walk me all the way back to my campsite. During the walk we reflected that it really was a long and convoluted way and i never would have made it. And i was lucky i suppose, my phone had died immediately when i could still return to the start, if it had died halfway it would have been a real pickle!

When we arrived at the campsite, where i had a tent and my parents were sleeping in the car, i was anticipating just quietly skulking into my tent but the light came on in the car and my parents greeted me. As i would find out later, to hear my mom tell it it sounds like she suffered more than i did, unable to sleep in anticipation that i might get lost on the way back, at one point suggesting they go look for me though dad was sure i was fine.

Sunday, July 9th - after a rather tasty camp breakfast prepared by my cousin Chelsea and her mom Aunty Bev, we headed out. Once again this took us through winding mountain forest roads before we entered the Bay Area urban expanse. Did you know there's a town in the bay area called "Alameda de las Pulgas," sounds all well and good until you've been studying Spanish and see that and realize it is "Grove of Fleas." 😳😳😳😳

Arrived at my brother Tobin's place on the island of Alameda (this grove unrelated to fleas). His wife had gone home early, not spending the night camping, to prepare a birthday party for their 3 year old Kestrel (I will once again note this name was shamelessly stolen as the name I've been saying for many years i intended to use). I had only met Kestrel for the first time at the wedding yesterday. So there was a pinata and several other young couples with similarly aged children came. I mostly read my book because I'm boring like that. (Currently the Flashman book where he participates in the 1868 British expedition into Ethiopia -- i had picked it up from the library)

Monday, July 10th - having just missed a ferry and Kestrel being asleep in the back, my parents decided to give me a bit of a tour of the former Alameda Naval Air Station. It was a weird mix of revitalized and derelict, a checkerboard of boarded up barracks and hangers which have turned into trendy breweries. It was a funny vibe, looking like a run down industrial area, you see people in front of a building expecting riffraff and it's invariably successful looking tech bros. We saw the former location of the Google X project Tobin had worked on --Makani, giant kites to generate electricity. That project had closed down as not quite economically viable. It had been based in the air base air traffic control building and they'd used some of the hangers for construction of their kites.

Just offshore off the airbase several fully autonomous drone sailboats bobbed at anchor.

Then we caught the ferry across the bay to San Francisco, which was quick and easy and fun. Spent two or three hours tooling around the embarcadero, had some delicious Mexican food at a recommended place, and returned on the ferry.

And now we're about to depart Tobin's place and head to Davis. My uncle Ben (Bev's husband, my mom's brother) was going to prepare us dinner but i interjected into the plans that much as i love a home cooked meal, and Ben is very good, there's several restaurants in Davis I've literally been day dreaming salivatorily of eating at for years. So i think we'll get Woodstocks Pizza :d

Tuesday, July 4th - After spending a pleasant morning in "my new office" my grandfather's enclosed porch, we went to my uncle Kim's place for lunch. He's just "across town" in another suburb of Rochester, similar to Irondequoit, beautiful old houses surrounded by lawns without fences and enough large trees to feel like a forest, with a literal forest just behind the backyard lawn. Houses have a 19th century look but without the ornateness of "victorian" styles, actually quite elegantly simple architecture really, often as simple as the basic shape of a gingerbread house, boxy with peaked roof.
It was nice and sunny but not too hot, maybe upper 70s f (20s c). Uncle Kim barbecued hot dogs on the porch, classic Americana. I sent a picture of our meal to my Australian friends, along with the previous home cooked meal -- what I thought would be funny and remarkable to them is both times we had sausages/hotdogs in buns which is very contrary to Australian tendencies (which is to put them in an ill shaped flaccid piece of cheap white bread which will immediately begin to fall apart). What they were all most shocked by was not what I expected.

The fruit salad on the same plate apparently shocks and scandalizes them! That sure caught me by surprise.

It reminds me of a story from my brother Tobin. He was living in Germany and asked if there were any food combinations you could not do. The local he was talking to said of course not you can do whatever. "So i could have chicken schnitzel with sauerkraut?" he asked, combining two of the most common items of German cuisine. His listener was horrified --- "well of course you wouldn't do THAT!"

After lunch we returned to the house for a bit and then dad took me for a bit of Rochester sightseeing. It turns out Rochester actually has a very impressive waterfall:

We had hoped to go to the Genesee Brewery brewpub which has a great view of the waterfall but they were closed -- on the fourth of July! Seems like it would have been a booming business day had they been open. Irondequoit Brewery was also closed.

From the Brewery we crossed the river on an old railway trestle that has been turned into a pedestrian bridge. On the other side there was a "historic district" it looks like Rochester spent a lot of money revitalizing in the 90s that has since devitalized. It looked like several of the most prominent positions being occupied by out of business restaurants. We did enjoy reading informational signs about the many former mills that had been located here to use the water power that was available. Of particular note was a waterwheel that had been discovered when an excavator broke through into a previously unknown underground wheelroom.

As we drove back to Irondequoit i reflected that Rochester itself seems a lot more down on its luck than its suburbs. Rochester itself is full of boarded up and derelict buildings, while Irondequoit are i mentioned seems like the paradisiacal ideal of the nicest a suburb can look.

Part of Rochester's downfall of course was the implosion of Kodak, which is headquartered there, and despite inventing the digital camera first, locked away the idea to preserve their film sales. Then others independently invented digital cameras, which of course took off and Kodak was left holding an empty bag of film. Numerous Kodak buildings in Rochester have now been demolished as the campus of the surviving company shrivels.

Visited the grave of my grandmother. She died when i was eight and i barely barely remember her.

That evening we didn't go out to see the fireworks. We could see snatches of them between the trees and it sounded like a war zone with all the booms.

Wednesday, July 5th - Uncle Kim came to fetch us to the airport at 05:30. My grandfather got up to bid us goodbye and was surprisingly wakeful and bright eyed and bushy tailed. While saying goodbye i was acutely aware that he being 96 this could very well, odds probably more than likely, that it might be the last time i see him alive. Though i did really enjoy my brief stay in Rochester and wouldn't mind coming again next year if he's still kicking around. And he said in a very heartfelt manner that he really enjoyed my visit.

Got to the airport without incident. Flew about an hour to Chicago. Chicago is obviously a bigger airport, and seemed pretty nice. Only an hour or so layover and we were back on a plane.

Flying United. There were no free meals on this four and a half hour flight. There were seatback television screens but we weren't provided earphones, though they did say we could request them. The screen as far as i could tell couldn't be turned off and left at its default it just played the previews for the "EIGHT FREE MOVIES!" on option over and over again plus an ad for the United credit card. And i think it had a bunch of television channels one could live stream but i had a book and none of the movies sounded good so i didn't request earphones and it looked like hardly anyone else did either. Being accustomed to airlines that offer literally over a hundred movies to choose from United's "eight free movies!" seemed pretty laughable.

Arrived at "John Wayne" (Orange County airport) around 11:30. Mom picked us up. Got In-N-Out burger on the way home (divine food of the gods!).

Coming from such lush green places as upstate New York and the African tropics before that Orange County seems very very dry. I found myself kind of squinting at the rows of bedraggled palm trees thinking "why do so many people think THIS place is paradise?"

Thursday, July 6th - one little thing that i noticed has changed is the kids all zip around the neighborhood on electric "e-bikes" now. Strikes my old fashioned crotchety self as thoroughly lazy. "In my day, you had to PEDDLE your bike!" Soon they won't believe me. We went walking along one of our favorite nearby walking trails in the evening and several adults went by on e bikes too. Yes go for your evening bike ride without having to expend any calories whats the world coming to. I haven't seen these things yet in Australia but they seem pervasive here.

Had American pizza for dinner albeit only from Little Caesars.

Today (Friday) we're driving north for my cousins wedding but that'll be it's own entry.

Monday, July 16th - My parents, cousin Kateri and I departed the cheerful Gilded Drifter B & B Monday morning and drove through the sunny Sierra valleys to retrace our steps. Through the hills and vales, down into the broad mundane valley of Reno, back into narrow mountain valleys on the 395 and... amid wildfire smoke and the smell of burning chaparrel to Walker Burger for lunch! Just as absolutely delicious as on the way up!

   From there we proceeded on down to Mono Lake and this time went to see the Tufa Towers. Apparently they form where there were underwater springs, the minerals in the spring water immediately precipitating out their mineral contents on contact with the cooler fresh water to slowly over time form a stalagmite-like tower reaching up from the bottom. The previously mentioned extreme lowering of the level of Mono Lake by Los Angeles' thirst for water has exposed these formerly underwater tower formations.

   A significant problem with the reduction of the water level was that formerly isolated islands on the lake critical to migratory birds became accessible to coyotes and other land based predators. In this picture we are looking at an osprey nest ... which though dramatic is probably not one of the threatened bird species. Wait Mono Lake has no fish (too saline).. is this actually an osprey? Maybe it lives here while getting fish from the tributary streams? Hmmm mysterious.

   From there we proceeded to a volcanic crater just beside the lake getting a little lost on 4x4 tracks in our non-4x4 prius on the way. To our west toward the Sierras at this time there was a solid white wall of wildfire smoke that was steadily getting closer to us and was a bit concerning. We poked around the crater nontheless, there was cool obsidian. We then continued.
   We stopped again a little later at another cindercone just near mammoth. What can I say we really like volcanic rocks.

I have a particularly large number of scene setting photos because I was updating a certain Venezualan senorita on roadtrip progress ;)

   Also at this time, President Trump was in the process of making news for insulting our NATO allies pretty much as much as he could at a recent summit and then meeting with his bff Putin and saying that Putin says there's been no Russian meddling and that about settles it. The world we're living in!

   We once again stayed at the same hotel in Independance. Got pizza at one of the immediately prior towns (Big Pine?).

Tuesday, July 17th - We proceeded on south, stopping in the flat hot bland town of Lancaster (has anything interesting ever happened in Lancaster? Has it even been the setting for any exciting stories? It seems a thoroughly bland place), for a picnic lunch in a park. Then west along the foothills north of Los Angeles which were often covered in orange groves or other hearty slope-growing crops. Finally emerging on the Pacific coast and proceeding north among expensive beach houses with the occasional giant palm tree looming over them like a toilet brush. Finally we arrived in Santa Barbara to drop off Kateri at the suburban house where she and her boyfriend rent some rooms on the upper floor of a stucco suburban house. Also met her boyfriend, whom I hadn't met before but apparently my parents have. He seemed a swell fellow. Some of these cousins are surely due to start getting married soon. I hope so I do enjoy attending weddings.

   Also I at once recognized my grandmother's style in a painting on their wall that I haven't previously seen. I do so love her paintings. All the relatives have them all about their houses and its fun visiting relatives whose houses I've maybe never been to before and seeing previously unseen paintings by "mum-mum."

   From there we could have headed home inland through the heart of LA but instead, as apparently my parents have been in the habit of doing (they come out this way fairly frequently because mom's dad lives in neighboring Ventura county), we went down the Pacific Coast Highway. This iconic road winds right along the coast practically in the spray of waves in places. In Malibu we stopped at a sandwich place (actually a sandwich bar inside an upscale grocery story) they are in the habit of visiting on this route. I ordered a mammoth sandwich at this upscaley place and then had to gloat to my friends in Australia because at whatever it came out to ($7? $8?) you couldnt' even get a dogfood quality fastfood burger in Australia. And this at a fancy place in Malibu frequented by people any one of whom looked likely to be a celebrity I didn't recognize!

   From there we continued on down the coast before eventually turning inland somewhere in Los Angeles county and finshing up with a quick slog through the urban sprawl unil we finally got home. The End!

One more picture of Mono Lake just because I feel I need a picture here

   Okay, now I swear tomorrow you get day 1 of the trip to meet Cristina in Dominican Republic!! (: It seems appropriate in anticipation to tease out this photo of her on the plane on her own flight to the Dominican Republic!

( Previously: Up the 395 from So Cal to Independence! )

July 13th - Upon waking up and emerging from our motel room we were greeted by a spectacular view of the nearby mountains. Because there were no restaurants in Independence we were obliged to backtrack half an hour to the larger town of Lone Pine. In glancing at the wiki entry for Independence just now I notice it's actually the Inyo County Seat, despite being described in that same entry as a "tiny village" with a population of 669. On the way back to Lone Pine I took the above picture as soon as I didn't have buildings obstructing my view.

   We ate at the Alabama Hills Cafe, a diner my parents have also come to be in the habit of stopping at on this route. They had many delicious looking things on the menu, including biscuits and gravy which I'd been longing for, but I actually ended up going for a dish, I forget what they called it but various things all sizzled up together in the griddle with a fried egg on top. Mom and dad both had pie like the total gangstas they are!! Kateri had some impressive stack of pancakes with strawberries that was on special and she got the last one much to the envy of a diner who later sat at the table beside us and tried to order it.
   The namesake of the diner, the nearby Alabama Hills are a rugged set of foothills distinct from the high Sierras behind them, that have been used as ambiguously rugged western terrain in a great many Western movies (there's a movie museum nearby we have also never been to). The Alabama Hills Cafe had a lot of pictures of the rock formations about which inspired us on a sort of whim to drive the loop road around the hills. We decided it was well worth doing as we wound through the picturesque rock formations. We even found what looked like an old movie-set mineshaft (any major western aficionados think they recognize it??)). On parts of it that were private property there were some very unique looking dwellings and I surmised that I bet at least one of them is on airbnb!

   From there we headed up north on the 395 again, in the sage filled valley between the jagged Sierras on our left and small mountains on our right (what's over there to the right? no one knows!). By and by we found ourselves in pine forest around the turnoff for Mammoth (do non Californians know about Mammoth? It's kind of like Yosemite but not -- famous for skiing but I've always been there for the beautiful forest hiking.) Near mammoth we turns off for the Hot Springs with every intention to go swimming in them. It was once again oven hot as we got out of the car there. I have fond memories of swimming in the hot springs here when I was wee but I guess one too many people boiled themselves alive by going in the parts you're not supposed to go into, because the old swimming holes were all fenced off and there didn't appear to be any current swimming opportunities. Nevertheless we walked along the picturesque stream a bit.

   Just north of Mammoth as one comes back down out of the tree line is Mono Lake, a hypersaline endorheic lake. We stopped into the visitor center there. The lake had been drained to half it's 1940s size by the 1990s by water being redirected to Los Angeles, which threatened many birds that depend upon the lake for migration and breeding. Since then conservation efforts have one a legal fight the water waterlevel is once again rising to reach an agreed upon minimal level. We visited the famous tufa tower formations on our way back south but I'll get to that when I get to that!

   North of Mono Lake we once again were winding through relatively narrow valleys. The next place worth mentioning is definitely WALKER BURGER. My parents had been advised of this place by my uncle's fiancee who apparently would some times come down this way, but during their Thanksgiving sojourns it had always been closed. Walker, it turns out, is an absolutely tiny ~~town~~ "census designated place," but this burger place is legit amaze. I had a half pound "western bacon burger" that was possibly worth driving all the way to this remote locality just for, as well as an extremely delicious shake. Everyone else was similarly pleased with their food. The outdoor seating area was really lovely and my pictures really don't do it justice, but it was like a pleasantly shaded garden with benches and a central grassy lawn, whimsical windmills, water features such as water pouring from one barrel to another to create that peaceful tinkling water noise. Really superbly lovely spot!

   From there we had to nick into Nevada near Reno, where I think we were no longer in a narrow desert valley and surrounded by more signs of civilization, but by now I was drifting in and out of sleep even though it was only late afternoon (but again,I was still suffering from jetlag!). Then we got back into the mountains just north of Tahoe. During moments of wakefulness I was aware of beautiful mountain valleys around us. Finally we pulled in to our destination town of Loyalton, with which a population of 769 is smaller than Birregurra. Our bed and breakfast was a beautiful Victorian house just on the outskirts called the Gilded Drifter (it's hard NOT to call it the Gilded Grifter though!). During the weekend our family would have the whole place booked out but on this first night it was just us (me, my parents and Kateri) and some strangers in the other rooms whom we only saw extremely briefly (I think there were two different couples who both arrived late at night). All the rooms were named after famous American authors of a level of obscurity that I didn't actually recognize any of their names but Kateri (again, an English major) did and was quite tickled by it. My favorite part about the place was that it had a really cute cozy little library room. In which I enjoyed to sit and read my book.
   Also it so happens that there was a flash fiction writing contest I intended to participate in and the topics were to be announced this very evening! I was very unsure I'd have time to write a flash fiction in the hubub of a busy weekend with the family but I was planning on giving it my best go. I checked my email and found that I had been assigned to write a romantic comedy set at a bus stop involving a chihuahua! Would I be able to accomplish such a thing in the next 55 hours??

July 12th - "It's desert noir" I commented, as I snapped a photo of a ramshackle falling-down old house with junk around it, with Mt Whitney rising up behind it. Somewhere near the Manzanar internment camp.

I'd only arrived in the states just the day before and already we were on an epic roadtrip! My uncle was getting (re)married in a small (tiny) town north of Lake Tahoe, which would have been probably a 10 hour direct drive up "the five" through the middle of California, but we decided to take two days to go up the east side of the Sierras. In fact this plan was a major selling point for me to come to California rather than go back to Africa at this time. Also my cousin Kateri would be joining us, I wasn't quite sure why, but maybe she liked the roadtrip idea as well!

Because Kateri was coming from a different direction (Santa Barbara) we came up from Orange County to fetch her from a train station in the northern LA suburb of Van Nuys. This trip took us on different highways than we usually take and we actually found ourselves driving right through the middle of the cluster of skyscrapers at Los Angeles' dark heart. It took two or three hours to get through LA and we ended up arriving at the train station nearly an hour late... but by a stunning coincidence her train was also running about an hour late and we actually pulled up with just enough time to park and walk to the platform and greet her coming out!

We ate at a nearby In-N-Out and then proceeded through the foothills that surround Los Angeles to the north and east. This route on the 14 through the hills I haven't taken in recent memory and its a much broader less dramatic valley than Tejon Pass which the 5 passes through. On the far side is the low flat town of Lancaster baking in the desert sun, and a little later amid the sage and yucca plants of the high desert there's a boeing facility, which looks like a huge international airport in the middle of nowhere, in terms of hte number of large jetliners parked there. Somewhere around there is also Mojave Spaceport. Then the 14 joins up with the 395 and as we head north the Sierras begin to rise up on our left. By and by we see more extinct cindercones and other evidence of ancient volcanic activity.

Kateri and mom at Fossil Falls

Kateri, by the way, had just recently graduated from UC Santa Barbara as an English major. She's quite into writing, so we enjoyed talking about books and writing. I'm not quite sure why she has neglected to appear on livejournal, haunt of aspiring writers that it is! She quite prefers Young Adult books and writing, which is not quite exactly my favorite genre but still we had a lot to talk about.

Picturesque parking situation at Fossil Falls

When I was wee we used to drive up this way to Mammoth every summer but I haven't made the drive since then, so it was fun to see the barely remembered sights along the way. At the base of a memorable large red cindercone we turned off on a turnoff for "Fossil Falls," to do a little sightseeing along the way. After a five minute little drive we parked at the trailhead and amid baking 100+ degree weather (which I was loving as I was still trying to thaw my bones from Australia) we took a short hike to fossil falls -- which is a formerly dramatic waterfall through very artistic looking curvy volcanic rocks. Formerly because now the water that fed it is entirely rerouted to supply Los Angeles.

Dad gazes into the abyss

After about half an hour clambering about we were happy to get back in the air conditioned car and continue the journey. We passed the red cindercone (Which, melodramatically, had a large dust tornado in front of it as we went past), and despite the oven heat of moments earlier, soon rain was splattering across our windshield. A strange thing then happened: all of our phones suddenly started making an unusual alarmed warbling noise at once. Looking at my phone I saw I had "an emergency alert system alert" and it was a flash flood warning in our vicinity. Never had that happen before! Good to know the alert system works! We stopped in at the Mt Whitney visitor center at Lone Pine, it wasn't raining but clouds obscured Mt Whitney itself. Passed the Manzanar Internment Camp visitor center and it occurred to me that we've never stopped there and the present political climate makes it seem very apropos. Maybe next time.

just across the river

At Independence, a tiny little town just up the road from the bigger Lone Pine, we checked into a small motel my parents have apparently made a habit of stopping at (Thanksiving apparently has often these last few years been at my uncle's place we were now headed towards, and my parents have been going up this 395 route to get there). This little town apparently has no restaurants except a semi-permanent mexican food truck (it was actually semi integrated into an old gas station), so we walked over there and I procured a delicious authentic burrito (exciting being as, despite everything that had happened in the previous 24 hours, I still had only just arrived from Australia and not yet had a decent burrito in a year!)
After we ate we walked to a little park where there had been a steam locomotive, but it was gone, replaced by a sign noting it has been taken off somewhere else for repairs. By now it was evening and a pleasant temperature. A very pleasant babbling brook ran through the park and, crossing the river with a cute wooden bridge, a trail meandered out among the low sage that stretched out to the sheer wall of mountains. By the bridge there was a notice sign saying it could be dangerous around the river at times of flash flood and I noted that it was such a time -- we were in the dangerous intersection of the venn diagram. Needless to say we crossed the bridge and proceeded ti walk up the trail. There was that amazingly beautiful smell of fresh rain over sage desert. Even in the city the smell of fresh rain is famously delightful, but among the sage in the desert I think it's arguably one of the best smells in the world. Sure enough it was soon sprinkling, and the rain quickly got a bit heavier so we were thinking of turning back. I happened to glance behind me, and noticed a wall of grey obscuring the mountains approaching us. "uh, guys, look what's coming out way!" I pointed out the wall of heavy rain approaching to the rest of the family. We then more or less ran back down the trail, and it was coming down heavily already by the time we crossed the bridge. Spent the later evening sitting under the eaves of the motel reading my book as rain poured down around us, and the temperature still pleasant enough to be not wearing a jacket!