sweet dee rupee: “Get on the bus, Gus!”

I can’t believe we’re nearing the end of our adventure; it feels like we just left Detroit yesterday! We started heading East on Friday afternoon, after driving from San Francisco down the Pacific Coastal Highway (PCH), which was so scary and creepy it was screepy, lol, I made up a new word along the way.

Back to San Francisco: what a cool city! It definitely wasn’t for me, or at least what I saw of it, which was mostly the touristy side of town (North Beach), but I can see how people would love it. It’s absolutely beautiful, there’s water everywhere, lots of sky, tons of hills, lots of jogging, plenty of young people, five different varieties of mass transit, etc.; the list goes on!

I guess part of my lack of connection to San Francisco has to do with the fact that I was being kind of a cranky spank while we were there, lol. We got in Wednesday night, and we were staying in the city, so we went out and had a really nice dinner at a Belgian restaurant that Dad picked out. It was excellent! Dad had the mussels, which came out in this giant black pot, and I had the beet and arugula sandwich; yummy! Afterwards, we walked around and explored a little bit.

On Thursday, we got an early start and walked all over North Beach; literally, from one end, to the other, and back again, before 2:30pm. We easily walked six miles, up and down hills (This was my cranky day, so I had plenty to complain about once it started raining and when a homeless gentleman looked at me and exclaimed that it wasn’t Halloween anymore). We saw all sorts of stuff, though, from Chinatown, to Fisherman’s Wharf, to the Market, and everything else. We had a big lunch at a mediocre Indian restaurant (just something else to bitch about, lol) and ended up being too stuffed for dinner, so we ended up going out for gelato: ice cream makes everyone feel better :]

We got up Friday morning and hit the road, with no particular destination in sight. Dad was intent on trying to make me feel better (sometimes I just get sad, I can’t help it, I just need some boo hoo time every once in a while, can’t control when it happens), so we decided to eat breakfast at a cute little café in Pacifica, called Salada: wow, super good breakfast. Nothing too special, but the stuff that they do, they do really well. Probably some of the best hashbrown/homefries I’ve ever had; perfectly crunchy and delicious! Even the toast was done to perfection, which sounds silly, but sometimes toast is too dry, or too stale, but this was totally perfect.

After that, we continued down the coast, all the way to San Luis Obispo, several hundred miles further down the coast. Along the way, we stopped in Santa Cruz and checked out the boardwalk: it’s totally creepy being in an amusement park that is closed for the season, but still will let you walk through it. It reminded me of one of those episodes of that old SNICK show “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” lol. While we were there, I finally got my (only) opportunity to touch the water and put my hands in it (having sock and sneakers makes putting your feet in seem a bit less unattainable).

After walking the beach and the boardwalk, and playing a quick game in the arcade (the kind you use a fake rifle to shoot little bulls-eyes all over the place that make silly things happen, like Old West style), we were ready to continue down the coast, of which we ended up seeing plenty. We calculated that we probably saw about 600 miles of coast while in California, give or take, and every inch was awesome. There were so many awesome views, but to try to catch them all would have made for lost reality: "I missed the moment because I was living it" was the quote of the day. Yeah, I made that one up on the spot. "Go me!" lol (I'm not this cocky, just another roadside joke).

We were up so high, and on some of the windiest roads I’ve ever been on in my life. It reminded me of taking the bus to Kodaikanal in India, where the bus was pretty much balancing along the precipices’ of mountain passes. This was almost identical, but instead of other mountains to fall down on (if that is how fate would have played her deck) there were cliffs down to the water, about 2000 feet below at times. Whew. It was definitely a bit of a nail biter journey, especially once it started raining. Being screeped out blasted the sad right out of me, so that was a bonus.

We also saw the Hearst castle along the way, one of the only things that you can pull over to see. We even saw a man pushing a cart full of wares, uphill. (Note the following reactions):

Dad: "Where do you think he found that shopping cart?"

Me: "That isn't a shopping cart; it is a mobile HOME!"

(Lol, we have many interactions like this, our sense of humor is a bit skewed when we're together....)

We went at least 100 miles with no place to exit onto another road; taking the PCH is definitely a commitment, one that was very worthwhile. It is especially enjoyable when listening to Pearl Jam (which I just can't get enough of!). By the time we reached the end, we were both a bit beat from all that white-knuckle driving (and passenging!) so we decided it was time to finally head East, and leave our pal the ocean in the dust.

As soon as we started heading East, we found ourselves in wine country; there were grapes growing everywhere (Mom, you would have been in heaven!) We drove for about 50 miles, until we found Santa Maria (complete with a Marriot property :]). Since Dad had done such a great job driving all day, I even decided we could order pizza in and not head out in search of a microbrewery, haha.

Saturday morning, we had our sights set on Death Valley. Our unexpected jaunt down PCH the day before had taken us a bit south of where we had planned to start heading east, but we were just along for the journey. We didn’t have any particular places lined up to stop and see, but had a little motel in Independence, CA, as our final destination. I had called this place, the Mt. Williamson Motel, and spoke to the owner, Ms. Henrietta, about staying there and she sounded so sweet, and it was a good deal, so we decided we would go there.

It was in an awesome location, a valley at the foot of the Eastern Sierra Nevada Mountains (where the tallest peak in the continental 48 states resides – Mt. Whitney), with some smaller mountains to the west; once again, we would be surrounded by mountains. The motel was conveniently located within 100 miles of Death Valley, only 15 miles north of one of the entrance roads into the park, so we were willing to risk staying at a tiny little place.

Though we had no scheduled stops, we had plenty of fun along the way! There were plenty of awesome Latino radio stations along the way, more so than English speaking stations, so we had plenty of chances to do salsas and merengues in the truck. Also, anytime we saw big, green bushy plants growing on the side of the road, no matter how different they looked from each other, I assumed they were pot plants, I mean, come one! It is California and all, I’m sure that’s how they roll out here… Further, when we would see an airplane, I would tell Dad he’d better slow down, or It was going to pull him over (based on the amount of Speeding Enforced by Aircraft signs posted in the desert). Finally, we made it to the Mt. Williamson Motel, free of pot and the threat of an airplane pullover.

I’m so happy we stayed there! Ms. Henrietta is one of the sweetest little ladies I’ve ever met. She’s originally from Switzerland and has a very charming pattern of speaking and storytelling; it reminded me of listening to Werner Herzog. She made sure to tell us all of the local spots worth seeing (including where to see the Alabama Hills with the best vantage point of Mt. Whitney, which we did that night; and where to eat dinner [Seasons], which was definitely a gem in the valley!), and what we absolutely had to see in Death Valley the following day, even providing us with several maps and a CD that described the history of the area.

In the morning, following some more mountain-base yoga, the “continental breakfast” was a hot breakfast whipped up in a tiny little kitchen by Ms. Henrietta herself, completely with coffee, eggs, hash-browns and sausage (if that’s what you’re into). I swear, everyone should visit Lake Tahoe or Vegas or Death Valley just to have the opportunity to meet sweet little Ms. Henrietta before she sells the motel (it’s a lot of work, she told us all about it, and even tried to get Dad to buy it!)

Death Valley was rather impressive! There are so many mountains and ups and downs and twists and turns, complete with several off-road opportunities for the Silverado-Ho (which we’ve taken to referring to Dads truck as, especially when it’s off-road or when the cruise control is on). At times it looked like we even could have been filming a Chevy Silverado commercial, complete with the dusty trail behind us and the need for 4-wheel drive, haha.

It’s really hard to describe it besides it was the dusty, desolate, hot, desert valley it sounds like it would be (I’ll post some pictures in a separate blog, very soon, as we took so many pictures, it would require its own blog entry, haha). After a while, I had taken so many photos in the first hour or so that I declared I was “over it” and really refused to take any more. I’m so bratty sometimes :] Luckily, dad puts up with me in his old age, haha. To properly convey the awesome vastness of Death Valley I would need a helicopter and a better camera. Period.

He was pretty beat after all the driving (and getting up way to early with Daylight Saving Time), so I drove the last hour or so out of California into Nevada. We arrived in fabulous Las Vegas around 5pm. It was pretty sweet, as we were staying at a brand-new Marriott property at an awesome rate (again; thanks to my brother from another mother!), about a mile from the Strip. Granted, we hardly left the hotel, but it was so nice we really didn’t want to leave. I had called up an old friend (the fabulous Ms. Jamie Rice) the day before to let her know this lil B was going to be in town (she’s been living there for about a year now with her boyfriend, who’s doing his residency there). She invited me over to have a beer or two with her man and another old friend from Florida.

We had a blast! It’s always great to catch up with people that you don’t get to see often but really like. It’s an excuse to plan more time to get together and see what they’ve been up to in the meantime. The best friendships are like this; low-maintenance, spontaneous and always filled with fun and love :] Yeah, yeah, cheesy cheese, but so true! They’ve got a great place not too far from the heart of the city, with a very entertaining back patio area, complete with horseshoes and a projector! It also sounds like Jamie has scouted out some awesome hang-out spots over the past year, so I’ll definitely be going back for a proper visit to do some real exploring. Luckily, gambling isn’t my bag, so going to the Strip isn’t at the top of my priority list, aside for doing some people watching. I’m sure it’s AWESOME to people watch there, haha.

So yeah, a very low-key evening, in Vegas ironically, with some really awesome people; it was definitely good to get some quality friend time in and not whoop it up too hard (as I was driving and all, as well as doing some serious traveling today). We got up early this morning (the sun came up at five, geeze Louise) and checked out the breaky scene. It wasn’t as yummy as Ms. Henrietta’s but it’s definitely the most expansive spread we’ve seen yet, with real mugs for the coffee (and it was good coffee, too, I had 3 cups, yahoo!).

On our way out, we tried to see the Hoover Dam without committing to actually crossing it and having to have a full vehicle inspection, but we kind of failed. We were so close, yet so far, damn dam. We tried to be all sneaky and take this windy, bumpy, dusty trail towards the dam, but all we managed to do was end up at the dam lake, above the actual dam. We had fun while doing it, though, and felt like we were filming the Silverado commercial part deux. Several times in the last few days we just keep finding ourselves driving in the desert, in the middle of nowhere (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas kept running through my mind). The road we were on was definitely well-suited for off-road vehicles, like ATV’s and dirt-bikes, not necessarily the average Joe and Jane out for a ride. A few cars passed us on the way back and we were thinking “Yikes, good luck to those jerks, they might not be able to get those little go-carts vehicles out of here!”) Haha, suckers.

The Grand Canyon is our grand destination now. There’s actually snow on the ground here, just east of Kingman, wow. Hope it’s warmer where we’re headed, burr. I’m not quite ready for this type of weather yet.