8 in 13

Leaving Taos signified the start of my journey home-and I was nowhere NEAR wanting it to end (despite doing 8 states in 13 days) so I am now laying words on the page about what that route looked like, from my home location in Vancouver (where I rolled in last night). First off though, I want to start to tell you a little about the 4 photos today..the first one is of that first church ,El Santurio de Chimayo, on the High Road to Taos...that is exactly where I was standing when that kind fellow, An Apparition in Denim, passed me the bag of holy dirt. The second photo is of the San Francisco de Asis (St. Francis of Assisi) church, in Rancho de Taos, the most photographed and replicated-in-art church in the USA - some of you may be very familiar with one of the artist Georgia O'Keefe's well-known 'signature' paintings depicting it..

As you leave Taos you have to cross the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, one of the highest bridges in the country.. and when you look way way down, standing on it, fingers vice-gripped to the railings, you actually feel queazy- and I don't have a problem with heights. It was here that I got happily trapped into buying jewellry from the artists camped out next to the bridge..all selling really cool stuff, and hey, it was my lucky day too- because all the items were half price and were going up to full price the next day! (Nah, I didn't believe it either, but I played along...). Photo 3 is of the Psychedelic Espresso Bus across the road from the vendors.I'm seriously thinking of naming my first band what I just named that bus. (When I return in My Next Life as a struggling, out of work musician with a caffeine dependency...)

For someone who did not plan her route for this trip, I really made pretty good decisions about where to go and where to stop. (Hmm, the last 10 words in that previous sentence actually sum up a decent philosophy on how to deal with Life..) I could not have picked a more spectacularly scenic - and diversely scenic-route for almost 100% of the entire thing, the biggest exception being the slog through the San Bernardino portion of HWY 10 outta LA...

So from the Gorge, it was on through beautiful mountain passes ,etc to get to Durango, Colorado, to check out their newly renovated Holiday Inn..At one point, a black hawk with some kind of red colouring on it swooped right in to my windshield, then, at the last second, like in a game of chicken, he changed course. It left me wondering if that was some kind of sign in favour of the Chicago Blackhawks taking the Stanley Cup..(now if I were a betting man, I'd be all over it.)

Colorado is so pretty, with the tidiest ranches I ever have seen. They all looked like photographs-nothing moved, including the livestock. Maybe they weren't real, but exact replicas of livestock, for show. That would make for a REALLY tidy ranch.On the way to Durango, there was this sweet, quaint little town- Pagosa Springs- which looked like it just sprung out of a Gilmore Girls set (for those of you who are diehard GG fans- and you know who you are- you can truly understand how meaningful this was). The only thing not so Gilmore Girlish was this guy in his early twenties trying to hitch a ride ..he had hiking boots on, camouflage shorts, a thick sweater, a woollen toque (remember, it's hot as Hades out) , carrying a very very high backpack (as in 'how will this fit in someone's car').(And as in what/who is inside that thing?) But the crowning feature , and what I would consider the deal breaker for anyone even entertaining the notion of picking him up,was that he had half a beard. And I don't mean as in a light beard, I mean, one side of his face was clean shaven, the other half was fully bearded, with a perfect line between beard/no beard down the middle of his chin. Remember in that Batman movie, The Dark Knight , the niceguyturnedvillainaftertheaccidentthatlefthalfhisfacemeltedandburnedbuttheothersidewasperfect,that's kinda what it reminded me of, but totally different. What was he thinking, you know, for like actually increasing his chances of getting a ride? I never can understand how most hitchhikers, by nature, look sooo unpredictable, and like they are carrying all their worldly items that were handed to them when they were released from prison earlier that morning.

After Durango, it was into Utah with all those giant orangey-red rock formations, super impressive especially where little towns of green had managed to crop up in their valleys,despite the blistering heat and umm rocks and all. But the heat had nothin' on the insanely strong winds along the wide expanses of highway.I literally almost got blown off the road when a big semi screamed past me, the whole car felt like it was going to tip up onto its right side and I had to grip the wheel with all my might..and when stopping for gas in a place in the middle of WhereAmI, I had to press with all my body weight to get my car door open- against those same winds-before it slammed shut (with extreme prejudice).

The plan was to link up for an overnight with the Phoenix Phamily again in Salt Lake City, Utah, which was great..and wow, those mountains around there are like stepping into the Swiss Alps..all jagged and snowy, huge, in charge type mountains, quite yodelling-worthy. From there it was into Idaho and Oregon for more spectacular vistas and their big BIG skies..and then yesterday's home stretch on into Washington, where the rains started juussst outside of Seattle.AND it was socked in till getting home to Vancouver..but there were lotsa great views beforehand-who knew that the Yakima Valley could be sisters with the Okanagan Valley, they look so alike geographically and with all the vineyards and stuff..however, as sisters go, I would have to say that the Okanagan Valley 'got all the looks' in the beauty department...

So that about rounds out the trip, and now for the 4th photo..I took it yesterday, on my final day, somewhere in Oregon, and chose it to represent the future that lies ahead, the post-journey Journey..all bright, sunny, open to suggestion, the sky-unending ..it's all about possibilities. Yeah, sure, we all know about the rains and grey that happen later on up that same road (in North Bend, to be exact), but-corny as it sounds- what is gonna work for me is to realize that the key to this whole experience is to remember those blissful moments, drives, encounters, sunny blue skies, and use them like the transparencies our teachers used to place on the overhead projector..by superimposing all those guilt-free,fearless , calm, joyous, fun moments onto the present moment, altering it-just a little- to embody the delicious memory of the Art of That Journey ,and the Freedom of That Tour...

Life is one big road with lots of signs. So when you riding through the ruts,don't complicate your mind. Flee from hate, mischief and jealousy. Don't bury your thoughts, put your vision to reality. Wake up and Live!

-Bob Marley

A Dose of Taos..

....was just what the doctor ordered, however she didn't- instead I prescribed it for myself! I was drawn to Taos before this road trip, not sure why, just knew it was one of my top ‘bucket list’ items, a must-do place to experience.. (And not only because Julia Roberts lives here.) (Well, like that was only 5% of the reason for coming.) I felt deep down that I may come away changed,or, dare i say- transformed, in some way, in a good way.There’s something very special about Taos, it feels like a healing place- both body and soul- and it knows that about itself, with designated or known sacred places. This is likely the well from which springs the area’s 'street cred' as a centre for creativity , with rich histories and present-day influences of Spanish, Mexican, Taos Pueblo American Indian cultures all woven together with the freespirited, outdoor enthusiasts,New Agers (who must be getting a little old now, dontcha think?) , artists, people who just love to live there and..well, I don’t even really know what I'm talking about, just going on my day and a half there and that's what popped up for me!

Now a word about the altitude..you'd think that most people would do some research about altitude before going to a town a) located in a mountainous region and b)connected with a ski resort..but nooo, I kinda like to do just a little reading before a trip and then rely on word of mouth from people I meet along the way…the spontaneity makes it more magical and fun (translate that into 'bad time management leading to inability to read up about the trip before I left'). Henceforth, I dolt-ishly wasn’t aware of or prepared for Taos’ 7000 ft elevation and the pounding heart palpitations that kept me awake a few hours each night, with random thoughts of ‘does this town have a hospital’ and ‘ so THIS is the special kind of heartburn you get after eating New Mexican Mexican [yes,I meant that] food every night'. These symptoms happened sometimes during the day, and were served occasionally with a side of shortness of breath. But knowing it was the altitude and not my own personal Day of Reckoning, kept me from worrying (excessively) about it..

Getting back to the Bucket List comment-how many of us even have a Bucket List? We mosey along in life catching experiences and the wonder of it all etc etc along the way, but if we don’t articulate for ourselves what we really must do before we ‘exit stage right’, we may never fulfill ourselves completely. Or find as much joy as we can possibly handle. I’m so guilty of that, with an ‘I’ve done everything’ mantra- marriage, family, career, Weight Watchers,..well, maybe I’d like to learn Spanish and play the piano - sooo notttt Bucket List material- learn Spanish AND DO WHAT WITH IT=Bucket List Item. I really believe if we think it we will create it.. While I was driving that blissful High Road to Taos, I suddenly envisioned a scene where I check into my hotel room and ask if there is WiFi, sort of need it because 'I am a writer'- and just saying those words in my fantasy made me get all misty..so what’s that all about? It’s about finding new passions in life and I think writing could be one of mine.

For those of you whom I lost a couple of paragraphs ago, stick around, this is where it gets interesting…

Another reason to look forward to Taos was to connect with the dearest friend of one of my family members. I had only met her once and thought at best I could expect we might have a coffee and chat about life in Taos,I didn’t want to keep her from her vibrant young life on that day, having to entertain some middle-aged broad searching for Idunnowhat on her Artist's Journey/Freedom Tour…oh and with a million questions for everyone I meet. Well hoist those fears aside, girl, the day became so much more than that, first of all because I made a new friend that day- who woulda thunk that bonus was in the cards for this trip? And second of all, because she invited me to do something I have never seriously thought of doing. Because I was chicken.

So when she asked me, after our coffee, "would you like to go white water rafting this afternoon?" my immediate inside dialogue whirring around for the next 45-60 seconds was:

1-did she just say white water rafting?

2-I only have one day to look at Taos and blog and um get some sun. Because we don't get sun in Vancouver.

3-How can I say no to such an opportunity, I have tomorrow morning to check out Taos

4- I think I might say yes, I feel it coming..

5- my glasses might fall off, and there goes $600 floating downstream

6- well I did bring contact lenses with me, in case I did something active.Haven't cracked em outta the case yet

7-Um, what if I can't fit into whatever riversuit I need to put on

8-What the hell, I might say yes, I can if I want to-I'm grown up now!

9- I HAVE to say yes, this is my Freedom Tour

and..

10- I want to face the fear of the unknown, it'll be fun and totally blogworthy !

So I said yes. And then had the most incredibly wonderful next several hours. Starting with going to get tamales, cooked in warm corn husks, buying them from a street vendor in his trailer, soo0 yummy (the tamales that is, altho he was cute too), and finishing with margaritas at The Alley , a cool little bar/grill with an open air ceiling (the Photo of the Day) , friendly people and plants all over..and where I got asked for I.D.?! I kinda died a little and went to heaven a little..

But the meat of the matter, and yup, yet another XtendaMomentOfTheDay, was what happened Between the Tamales and the Alley (hey, that would be a good name for a movie) ..rafting this beautifully scenic route down 5 miles of Class 2 and 3 rapids ,sparring with the Rio Grande. My friend's boyfriend was a guide for this cool rafting company (and she can guide too) so I felt certain I was in good hands..I hadn't really felt too nervous until we got the safety talk, ie, that 10 % of rafters fall out, and what to do in all the scenarios (even ending up under the boat- you do NOT want to go there)..I felt a new appreciation for the high fat percentage on my body, believing it would enhance my buoyancy, and also for Mum paying for all those swimming lessons. We wore tight-fitting lifejackets (it transported me to Verona with its [Romeo and] Juliet-like corset effect) and helmets..and it was a BLAST! I was not afraid once, got happily but solidly drenched by the freezing waters, but it was sunny and warm and it felt like a baptism of sorts, like I could now go forward in life with the memory of this JUST SAY YES experience to JUST SAY YES to more such experiences. As we careened and glided through the waters we were told great stories about the history of the geography of the land forms surrounding the banks of the Rio, and the coolest thing ever- docking the raft so we got super close to petroglyphs in the rocks (of a lizard and other designs) left by Conquistadors and Pueblo Indians, some 2000 years old. We also viewed the remains of a town that had been a thriving centre during the Gold Rush, and the road that sprang from it and is still there.. but now only a handful of people live there in humble dwellings. I could so clearly visualize how it looked in its day, teeming with hard-working adventurers sifting through ore near these same banks of the river, excited for their dream of a Bigger Future once they found the motherlode.

The exhilaration of running the rapids ,paddling like hell and feeling the effect of our work as a team,with blue sky above, the sun on my shoulders, a great group of people in the raft, complete confidence in my friend and her boyfriend's abilities to safely navigate us, the rich history declaring that Others From Days Gone By had shared this trip down the Rio Grande-this same route- made this undeniably a Peak Experience, one I did not want to end- and a memory that will sustain me during the inevitable gray days that plague Vancouver.

I guess this could be called a Life Lesson, because I felt sooo alive doing it...

..Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river

If you come down to the river

Bet you gonna find some people who live

You don't have to worry cause you have no money

People on the river are happy to give..

-John Fogerty

1

Get Me To The Church On Time

For those of you who were left hanging by my last entry here, I haven't been outta commission, but rather in commission.As in doing stuff that kept me too busy/tired to blog. ..

So after visiting my Phoenix Phamily for the past weekend, on Monday it was back to business as usual on the road again. I chose the route to Taos, New Mexico, that would take me through the Saguaro (cactus) desert- you know, the type of cactus you see in Coyote-Road Runner cartoons. Yup, that's the only reason I wanted to see 'em. Well and also that the Saguaros are amazing to see in such multitude, like soldiers standing guard, protecting the uninhabited vastness of these dusty lands-while irreverant tumbleweed um.. tumble between them and over them , in their face like the annoying tourist who tries to get the Buckingham Palace Guard to crack a smile.. Photo of the Day above, I just gotta show you those early morning cacti!

Along the way I saw a couple of mildly disturbing signs, one more mildy disturbing than the other. The first, in the middle of the desert near a place called Dry Lake, was a sign saying "The Dry Lake Yacht Club" ..whaahh? And the second 'sign' was seeing half a sheep on its side in the middle of the road- the waist- to- hoof half, which made it wayyy better, since I didn't have to see her face.(I say 'her' because she had a waist.)

The trip was uneventful but cool through Albuquerque, until I got to the Gold and Turquoise (or it might have been the Turquoise and Gold) Information Centre, just outside Santa Fe. Now what I haven't mentioned so far is that, along the way to Taos, I was on a quest to see El Santurio de Chimayo, a Catholic church built in the early 1800s, which houses a small room with a pit, the source of 'holy dirt' believed to have healing powers. When I told this to the old Info Centre fellow, he warned me not to take the scenic 'High Road to Taos' to get to the church , it would take much longer than the Low Road to Taos (along the Rio Grande, but less view-worthy) ,it was too late in the day (4 pm), the church would not be open, that it was very unsafe in the parking lot of the church-and mostly, that Chimayo was the drug capital of the USA so it was a virtual certainty that my car would be vandalized, etc. So, with a flourish, he yellow-markered up the local map he had given me to make sure I was clear on the safest route to travel.

I thanked him and decided, before I got to the door, that I was gonna take The High Road.

I had not come this far not to see it, gosh darnnit,and would take my chances...and it was a holy place so that should offer some immunity from mortal failings. And for me this end of day sun is always the best part of the day... I arrived there in no time, it was very peaceful in its country setting,with hardly a soul in sight ( except my weary one). There were many objects left there from pilgrimages- crutches, photos, rosaries, stuffed animals and the like..I was about to enter the church when the 1st Runner Up For Moment Of The Day happened. A man-whom I hadn't even noticed-walking away from the church turned around and softly approached me, with the late day sun framing his form. He had a tanned, gentle, bearded face, with crinkly smiling eyes,his long grey hair pulled back with a leather tie, a red bandana around his neck, and he was wearing a pale blue denim shirt. He slipped a satchel from his shoulder, reached in, and outstretched his hand to me,offering a bag of soil, saying "Often people forget to collect the [holy] dirt for themselves when they visit the church, so I come very day to collect it to give to them". I took the bag from him, and thanked him, and he just smiled and walked away. It felt surreal..and so special..it actually eclipsed the feelings I had while visiting the church afterward.

I let myself wonder if he was an apparition, if Jesus would go for the denim shirt/ red bandana combo if He decided to appear to someone in a remote New Mexico present day location.. Inside the church, I ran my fingers through the dirt in the pit ,thought a little about stuff, then strolled around and took photos outside of the beautiful pastoral grounds before hopping into my (non-vandalized) car to proceed to The Moment of the Day..(Xtendamix version).

Now I'm sure you have all had more than enough about the scenery thing. But the High Road to Taos was..stunningly beautiful, from start to finish, with every possible opportunity for WOW moments presenting themselves one after another after another..except for the beginning of the road, when a small white dog with a black patch on his left eye bolted from a ranch, running up to block my car,barking like his Inner Rottweiler- and then again, at the end of the trip, miles later, when weirdly enough, another small white dog with a black patch on his right eye, ran up to my car, with less gusto than the first one (likely channeling his Inner Rottie-Lab mix).

So back to the drive- it was rolling meadows, insanely green pastures, majestic ponderosa pines, occasional adobe casitas, cliffs, winding roads up and down, snow-ridged mountains, tranquil ponds, twin white horses standing in the frame created by shimmering yellow-green- leaved trees in the light and shadow of a 5 pm sun ..you get the picture.

After each curve another vista, another vision, it was unbelievable, I could hardly stand it, I could have wept and could hardly breathe with the beauty (or altitude) ,I didn't care, it didn't even matter that there was nobody sitting next to me to share it with...and, nearing the end of it all,I felt something tugging on my cheeks, they felt a little quivery..and then ,I realized that for the entire High Road to Taos there had been a smile fixed on my face..

Oh Happy Day..

...I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost

Been through the desert on a horse with no name..

Well the been through the desert part is true, but I'm still lookin' for mah hoss ..Santa Barbara to Phoenix carried a whole whump o' desert and it was..super hotttt. Which means you really need to make a point to keep the fluids up. Which leads to the rest stop topic:I really don't know what is going on with the California rest stops, but more of them are closed than open right now, maybe sprucing them up for summer travellers or trying to increase local business for the small towns dotting the highways. Don't know about you, but I feel compelled to buy a small drink or something if using the bathroom at a fast food joint. That's just the (lapsed) Catholic guilt kicking in, keeping in mind that Guilt's older brother is ..youknowhat'scomingnext- Fear. Hmm, so , logically, that must mean if you alleviate fear, you alleviate guilt..two for the price of one. That sounds like a philosophy worth checking out. But maybe later, because I'm standing in line for the confessional right now and don't want to lose my place .

Leaving Santa Barbara and getting one last hit of California coastline-before driving inland- stirred up feelings of separation anxiety and my mind started frantically figuring out ways to get back there after New Mexico, yeaahhh, I could just do the reverse trip, no matter how long it took me to drive it, retrace my steps up the coastline. And then I realized I was doing exactly what I always do, get stuck holding on to an idea, frame of mind, or moment and not going forward because I just like that moment so darn much. Or I like the sameness because knowing what to expect arms my own internal security system .ENNNHHH, insert Jeopardy buzzer/security alarm- wrong response on this trip, Sister! Don't even think about it. So I shut that thought down with the affirmation ' don't be a flippin' idiot', or something along those lines. (Disclaimer-not sure if that is the correct use of an affirmation so please don't try this at home unless you have spoken to a qualified professional).

HOWEVAH,I'm so excited to be able to declare that I conquered my biggest fear on this whole trip- driving on the LA freeway system. I'm a pretty fearless driver, for the most part (it's just my passengers who are scared), but this was really causing me anxiety before I even left Vancouver. Welllll can check that off the list, I so gave LA traffic a whoopin',cutting through the lanes and the smog,tunes playing. I just applied my whole philosophy about driving in major traffic: "The other guy doesn't want to ram into you any more than you do into him"...simple!

I felt little surges of excitment seeing turnoffs to Malibu , Ventura, Pasadena..they seemed like little celebrities themselves, with the bit parts they have played on the screen. I also thought of Jennifer Aniston alot..more than I wanted to, it was annoying that my mind wasn't conjuring up more of a variety of movie stars for my viewing pleasure, cuz I'm a veteran at this. I started reading 'movie magazines'- Modern Screen,Photoplay- when I was a kid, but only to look at the pictures, I didn't read the articles. (which were coincidentally my dad's exact words when I discovered that Playboy in his briefcase). (Hmm.)

And other points of interest along the way:

- sitting in a MacDonald's in the border (CAL/AZ) town of Blythe, chatting to staff- a tanned man in his 50's wearing full traditional Mandarin Chinese garb (check out Peter Sellers as Fu Manchu in The Fiendish Plot of Fu Manchu and you'll get the visual)-the billowing pants, silk button-up collared long jacket,silk embroidered cap-with white tufts of his hair sticking out beneath it- and a long black ponytail sewn to the back of the hat. But he wasn' t Chinese..h..u

-Morongo's, a huge casino , all of a sudden BAM! pops up in the middle of the desert outside Palm Springs, impressively beautiful architectural design, for a casino..

-the turbo pressure faucets in the One Rest Stop Open, I actually had to step a couple of feet back from the sink after turning them on because the water literally blasted out of them with painful pressure and a radius of one foot. It was sweet to get the unexpected shower though, because at that 110 F heat the 30 second walk from my car to the bathroom had Vancouver Me sweating like a bull from heat prostration.

-a street in Palm Springs with NO LEFT TURN painted on the left lane in huge letters, when all that was on the left was a big brick building, with no road..halloooahhh! God, I wish I got a photo of that , now that would have been a great Photo of the Day

- the realization that the Universal Attire for Cool Dads Who Were Once Single And Don't Want To Let It Go is :a tan, a baseball cap with racing sunglasses crowning the rim (like a little tiara), designer golf shirt softly falling over board shorts, plaid maybe, and a trendy pair of flip flops. They're everywhere. And they've really still got it goin' on. (Just ask their wives.)

- that you can go 75 mph (that's 123 kims for us Canucks) on Hwy 1o E. the last hour or so into Phoenix. It felt so..decadent. And a huge relief at the end of a long day of driving, so it was just about listening to DJ Tiesto played LOUD and following the desert hills as they transformed from beige to red,like big chameleons the end of day sun had painted with a wash of its tired heat

MOMENT OF THE DAY- greeting my family in Phoenix (will be here till Monday)

PHOTO OF THE DAY- miles and miles ...and miles of these "wind farms'- futuristic windmills harnessing energy from the super windy areas in the desert. I've never seen them before but it truly felt like Alien Stations Monitoring Earth , so surreal, so cool.

I've been through the desert on a horse with no name

It felt good to be out of the rain

In the desert, you can't remember your name

'cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain..

-America

Where The Wild Things Are

Well today this blog should be mercifully short, since I'm bagged after another amazingly spectacular day of fresh air, sunshine and travel from Monterey to Santa Barbara. I sooo have a big ol' School Girl Crush on California..although I've been here before, I just can't get over its unending ways of throwing together different types of scenery to keep you in awe. It started early this morning with the epidemic of tiny purple flowers on the seaside beds in Monterey, carried on with the postcard ocean views you've all seen, the deep blue seas and huge monolithic rocks standing watch in the ocean, different types of hills yadayadayada, a thrilling Audubon-esque drive around tight curves and then-like the final event in a fireworks display where they light up every type of firework- as I pulled into the last laps before Santa Barbara, every type of mountain, hill, dune , bush and flower that I've seen so far was showcased on those last couple of miles in..

The neat thing about driving alone is that you only have to follow your own timeline, how long or if you want to stop..and you can change your mind without annoying anyone . This morning I was slowly tootling around the scenic seaside road in Pacific Grove, just next to Monterey, using one of those cute hand-drawn tourist maps ,when I saw a beautiful deer in the morning sun gingerly stepping onto a rock near Pebble Beach Golf Course. But get this, I saw her in the exact location where a deer was drawn on the little map-no joke! (I immediately started drawing a cute little likeness of Brad Pitt next to the deer on the map, hoping for a sighting.) I named the deer 'Doe-ris'. Minutes later , in Carmel,a red squirrel meandered (yes, a squirrel can meander) out in front of my car, causing a lineup till he was ready to proceed. I didn't want to run over a red squirrel-you just don't see too many of the red ones much anymore. I named him 'Rocky' (although he sure as heck was no flying squirrel). But the best animal sighting came as a result of me whizzing past a viewpoint, seeing a bunch of seniors there and assuming it was the usual, a nice rock formation with crashing surf, but as I looked more closely, I saw an unbelievable sight. I had to drive 5 minutes before I could turn around and come back to see over one hundred Elephant Seals, all basking in the sun and funny as heck to watch. You could get really close to them and hear their belching and barking and watch them goof around with each other. Now I have seen them in scarier conditions, ie very close to my kayak when out in open seas and they're sliding into the water off a rock, all territorial and up in your face, but these guys were Californian Laid Back..fascinating to watch, so they took the cake for PHOTO OF THE DAY (just one little portion of the huge number of them on the beach). They even got 'video of the day' too, but I can't post that ;-). I named each one of them 'Seal', after Heidi Klum's husband.

Today was about soaking up the sun and the wind, sitting in a man-made carved-out chair overlooking the ocean for awhile. Well, until the two snowy-haired men in identical brand new beige town cars pulled up,dressed similarly, they each got out and briefly talked about the view, then returned to their respective cars, in tandem, to carry on . After they left, I thought I felt some ocean spray up on my face, but it was more likely tears from the Environmentalist Gods . So I'm not quite sure why the next Karmic thing that happened at that stop was me stepping full-on into a thistle/nettle? bush and it stung like a sonofabissshh, when, like, I didn't drive up in two cars!

I loved hanging out for a little while in Big Sur, where the 60's feeling hasn't died, cool jewellry and clothes for sale, and flowers decorating rustic buldings. It made me pine for those days, wishing it was 1967 again-but this time I would actually get out there and experience Flower Power instead of staying home at night to do homework (even if I didn't have any) and watch The Monkees- whose sum total contribution to the Peace Movement was wearing brightly coloured floral oxford shirts. But I loved Micky anyway, and stayed loyal to him until he grew out his White Guy 'Fro.

But I was adventurous by turning into this little beachside town called Cayucos, had no idea what it as about, but nestled in a little curve in the road, and sporting a huge-but unadulterated with commercialism- State beach,it was like a Siren beckoning me onto its rocks..so I did just that, enjoying seeing the children at play, the warm wind in my hair, watching a big Goldie puppy climb out of a "Make a Splash" van (she takes your dogs for swims in the ocean) and galumph around the sand..I am so impressed with the beautifully kept State beaches that have been set aside by California for the public..

So as I reminisce about my day and look at my photos, here at the Ramada Inn in Santa Barbara ( A Monumental Improvement Over Last Night's Abode, and I have the fleabites to prove it), there's a gale force wind outside blowing the trees around like crazy, the rustling is deafening- but I love it..it makes it so cozy to be inside. Well, until I go to load the car out back in the morning and it is on it's side with a tree trunk impaling its undercarriage.

Oh and the MOMENT OF THE DAY: As I came around the curve on the coast drive, I saw a quiet, beautiful spot where you could look out and see green grass, blue water , feel the sea breezes and smell the salt air..and it just held a serenity like no other spot..there was a man standing there looking out to the sea, with the door open on his Porsche behind him, the exquisite sounds of a quiet Jazz playing from the top- of- the- line sound system within. He had his hands in his well-dressed pockets, his foot up on a rock, and I had a feeling this was one of his favourite places, like he really loved this spot, and maybe needed it for a special reason today. He turned and smiled at me, I smiled at him..and without saying a word, we both knew it doesn't get much better than a moment like this. ..

Garlicky Fields Forever

Before I even begin here, I have a huge correction to make..that beautiful mountain yesterday was not Mount Ashland, but Mount Shasta, with its own lake and town and district even- this mountain has hand!But I'm miffed that its true name still doesn't do it justice, naming it after a soda pop and all..

Today's drive from Medford, Oregon to Monterey, California was nothing short of SPECTACULAR (well except for a stretch around Sacramento) . And a good part of it got served up on I-5, a highway I have previously made a habit of complaining about how straight and boring it is, knowing only the Washington/Oregon segment....but this, THIS I-5 was full of winding roads around those bright slurpee-green mountains dotted with gnarled and twisted black trees, and through golden desert hills with sunshadows graffitied across their adolescent shoulders, then spiralled us up to viewpoints to see emerald lakes waaay down below. .I know, this sounds like a historical romance novel, setting the stage for the handsome -if tormented- male lead to stumble into the scene out of one of these topographical settings. But the only thing close to a male lead was the Calfornia Border Crossing Info Guy who stepped out of his booth, huge grin on his tanned and white mustachioed (is that a word?) face, asking if there was anything I needed help with . I asked him how much time he had. Well, I thought it, anyway. I also noted how guys from California can look old and craggy, but the moment they start talking, their California drawl makes them sound exactly like young surfers , and they immediately become ageless. Try closing your eyes the next time you speak to an older guy from California, it's abit disconcerting for them, but it'll be worth it to see I have a point here..Anyway,he gave me the best advice I will probably get on this entire adventure.." Your best bet is to drive down to Santa Nella and take 152 out to the coast".
I could go on and on about what an amazingly beautiful, even magical road that was..it had huge rolling blonde hills with cottonwood trees all over them, all mirrored in an enormous lake- the San Luis Reserve Rec area-before taking a totally fun ride through flat, curving and fast roads, narrow at times, but always with incredibly beautiful changing hills , it made me speechless, a good thing , since Bonnie has stopped talking to me too,sulking after repeatedly asking me to take every turnoff to San Fran after Sacramento,but I hung tough and followed Calif Border Guy's directions. And one of the best things, in this end of day sun, was the wafting of garlic as we sped past the fields..I thought everyone must be barbecuing, but it was actual field upon field of garlic..Heaven. Well , it would have been Heaven except for the pair of blue latex rubber gloves that were flung out of the pickup truck in front of me..now a rubber glove in an odd place is never a good thing..you don't even want to let your mind get started on figuring out what those gloves' short life involved...ah if we could only talk to the hand, or in their case, the glove..
THE MOMENT OF THE DAY-it's a toss-up, after 8 hrs of driving before I hit this 152, I didn't want its ride to end, it was exhilaratingly beautiful..tied with the sudden WOW moment when , without warning,the road rose up higher for a moment, sand dunes suddenly appeared outta nowhere, and behind them, in our face, there it was- the power and beauty and blinding sparkle of our magnificent ,immense Pacific Ocean as it rolled in for the 5 pm show, alternately slapping and crashing into the happily confused beaches of the Monterey Peninsula.
Ok so this has sounded alot like a geography paper, you may well think how could she be so into what really just amounts to a bunch of..scenery? Well, just keep in mind I am from Vancouver and it was a sunny day. A completely sunny day from start to finish. Now I could have been sitting in a dumpster all day, but truthfully written about how wonderful it was, if it was sunny. An interesting reference, because at the 'inn' where i am staying tonight in Monterey, ending up in that dumpster could be a distinct possibility..in a nutshell, it's cheap, not so clean (I've placed a towel on the chair for me to sit on while typing here and I'm not up to date on my vaccinations to use the shower).The 'innkeeper' is kinda grumpy, a man of few words and transparent skin ..he may well have been shortlisted to be casted in The Addams Famiy. Oh and the cars in the parking lot look hot (but not in a good way). One has more than two different types of registrations in the back seat. I hear someone yelling next door. Maybe there is a good hockey game on.
But guess what? My bathroom has an actual window, which opens to the outside! Now that could be a bad or a good thing. I remembered that I am currently taking a vacation from me [to find me-paradoxically] and that Eyore Me would not open the window because I might be afraid of whatever the situation is out there in the alley/dumpster or whatever, setting myself up to not feel so safe here tonight.
So I had no choice. I had to open the window. And THIS IS WHAT I SAW:
PHOTO OF THE DAY-scroll to the top of this page...

Southwest Ho!

YES I'M STILL ALIIIIIVE!