October in California

Thursday the first day of October Wendell and I flew from a rainy Tulsa, Oklahoma to a sunny Sacramento, California. Our plan was to ride double on a motorcycle along the coastline to Los Angeles where Wendell had work. We would return north to Sacramento the same way. The weather was warm and pleasant. Our first stop was Turlock, California where I dropped Wendell at a friend’s. Robby is an old college buddy. Wendell keeps a motorcycle there. I drove twenty minutes south to Merced where another transplanted Arkansas friend named Terri lives. Wendell spent his evening organizing things for our trip and visiting with Robby. I stayed with Terri and joined in her activities, which included substituting in an after school program. Terri is a middle school principal. After school we ate a delicious meal of nachos topped with pulled pork in the company of teaching associates at a place called Bubba's. For dessert we went to different restaurant and split a hot fudge brownie smothered in ice-cream. Later in the comfort of her lovely home we talked until we couldn't keep our eyes open any longer.

Next morning I returned to Turlock. We ate breakfast in a quaint mom and pop restaurant. In the rental car parking lot we gave back the car, put on cycling gear and mounted our ride. It’s an older BMW cop motorcycle. Wendell had installed speaker microphones in our helmets. We were ready to talk and roll. The first leg of our road trip was to San Jose. We would then head south and over to the coast. Wendell chose California Route 130. He asked several people about it, but no one knew anything. Later we knew why. No one travels this road. It was nicely paved but the terrain was a bit much for me. It weaves through golden brown hills that give way to craggy shrub covered ones. The road winds up and down. I got nauseous and depending on the elevation was freezing or burning up. We didn’t have any water. None of the roadside parks were open and there were no towns or convenience stores. I was rethinking my trip agreement when we rounded a curve and a large white dome then several smaller ones came into view. Wendell said, “These are observatories.” We went round another curve and buildings, cars and a woman appeared. We asked if there was water and she pointed up a steep hill. We were at Lick’s Observatory on Mount Hamilton. It is a hundred and twenty years old. When it was built is was the largest refractory telescope in the world. We received water and a tour of the building. It was so interesting that I forgave Wendell for my earlier discomfort. We continued to San Jose down the original mule trail built for the observatory.
We didn’t stop in San Jose but continued to an area called Mt. Hermon where we bought slices of pizza and tea, then on toward Monterey. We passed Moss Landing where there is a wonderful restaurant, The Whole Enchilada. They serve a unique combination of sea and Mexican food. It’s worth a visit. Our first view of the ocean was a bit south of there. It was beautiful. Mountain meets ocean. There was not a cloud in the sky. The mountains vegetation changed periodically from red green to golden brown then back again. I don’t know if we were passing through different gardening zones or what. We saw beautiful stretches of beach. Some with surfers and some with elephant seals sunbathing. We saw wind surfers, and one sailboat. There were all kinds of bikers. We passed more than a hundred bicycle riders doing a charity ride. Most motorcyclists rode alone. Wendell occasionally would say he was glad to have someone with him. There were plenty of convertibles and some antique cars.
We rode into Monterey about sunset. The combination of unique architecture, quaint shops and ocean is very appealing. We ate supper at a place called Louie Linguine’s on Cannery Row and spent the night at the Marriott. On our way to the hotel a pair of black tailed deer quietly strolled past.
Saturday morning we rode to Carmel for breakfast and walked down the main thoroughfare that leads to the sea. It is the first time I have been to Carmel and was able to see the ocean. A fellow airplane passenger later explained that in the fall heat from the central valley draws fog off the coast. This is the best time of year to view the ocean. A nice happenstance for us.
From Carmel we rode to Big Sur. There is a store that sells hardboiled eggs and salmon jerky. We walked to a river stream and sat in chairs purposely left in the water. We lounged, soaked our feet and munched on goodies. They have a stand of redwoods nearby. They are very tall trees.
Further south is a place called Ragged Point. It is a peninsular outcropping and favorite stopping place for motorcyclists, bicyclists and convertibles. There are stores, restaurants and a motel. It was just beautiful. They specialize in delicious cakes and pies. The slices were huge. From there we rode to Solvang. A friend in our Sunday school class had told us about this unique Danish town. Windmills and European architecture line streets and house shops and eateries. They are known for a fruit dumpling. I was especially attracted to one shop’s display of very unique purses. Sadly, it was closed.
About sunset we exited the highway for Montecito a small village in Santa Barbara. Their shops had the most attractive displays in windows I have ever seen. Again, they were all closed. We ate dinner at a place called Lucky’s. It was our most expensive meal and worth it. We had steak, grilled artichokes, salads, mashed potatoes, wonderful green beans, hot soup and rolls. Yum! From The balcony outside our room you could see the ocean. It was lovely. Next morning we ate a continental breakfast and onto Los Angeles. We were traveling the Ventura Highway right into the heart of downtown then to a suburb, La Habra. I have friends, Kent and Liz, who live in a neighborhood on top of a mountain ridge with a fabulous view of the entire Los Angeles valley. They welcomed, cooked, and entertained us most graciously. Wendell was able to accomplish his work and I was able to visit with our friends. They served us tri tip the first night which Kent cooked on his grill. Liz fixed a beautiful and delicious salad, fresh asparagus, rice, hot bread and a wonderful and pretty blueberry dessert drizzled with a lemon glaze from fruit she picked in her yard. Yep! It was the lap of luxury.
Sunday after lots of fun conversation and a lunch of delicious tomato soup we reluctantly left to return north. We drove through cities that I have heard about on TV all my life. “Kids send your stamped postcard to Thousand Oaks, California!” We zipped past Hollywood, Burbank, Capitol Records, NBC, ABC and a plethora of giant sized billboards advertising all kinds of movies and TV shows. I am sure we rode past 31st and Vine, but no woman was selling Love Potion Number nine.
Our destination was Ragged Point. We made a long haul to get there. It was an hour past dark. We were chilled. Once the sun goes down its cold. I had on three coats including Wendell’s outer layer. He had stuffed newspapers into the jacket he wore to act as a windbreak. I snuggled close to keep his back side warm.
The restaurant was a welcome haven of warmth. We made it just before they closed. We had a wonderful meal served to us by a French waitress. Several tables of people were speaking French. I wondered if there was a French connection. Next morning out our window was a giant lone cedar with a wide trunk and lengthy horizontal evergreen branches. Beyond the tree was the ocean. We were very near a cliffs edge. It plunged fifty feet below. Waves crashed against the rocky walls. It reminded me of a scene from Wuthering Heights. He wasn’t Heathcliff. I knew because of the tattoo, but he was young with muscled legs. He walked to a bench near my tree, sat down and began applying sunscreen. He was joined by another couple of athletic young men. They were probably bicyclists getting ready for another day of riding.
Tuesday we made our way back to Merced to eat dinner with Terri at one of her favorite Mexican restaurants, then to Turlock where we parked the bike and Robby graciously drove us back to Sacramento. It was a three hour trip for him. About the time we were dosing off to sleep he texted to say he was safely home.
We arrived in Tulsa mid-afternoon Wednesday October the 7th to rain and a dead car battery. My mechanical Wendell worked six hours in the rain with the help of several passers by. At nine p.m. he rented a car and drove us home to Fort Smith about midnight. Despite the unwelcoming dead battery it was a wonderful and memorable trip to California.