Virginians + LA = the true Beverly Hillbillies - aka - sorry for the wingdings (thanks G)

Location: Burbank (the Valley)

Mileage: 8400

Number of tarot readings of Paul’s life in the past 24 hours: 4

We slept in nice and late at Sasha’s Monday morning before seeking out a very mysterious spot in the Santa Cruz area… aptly named “the Mystery Spot.” This is a remarkable place where visual perception must be called into question (this would have been a great place for a priori philosophers to tell a posteriori philosophers that they are full of it.) It’s a somewhat kitschy touristy spot where paying for parking is not an option and the tour guides are proud of their bad jokes (“thank you for laughing, ladies and gentlemen, they only get worse from here,”) and Mystery Spot bumper stickers are handed out at the end, but we had a good time. We hiked up a short hill that didn’t look steep but felt very difficult to climb, saw people’s heights change in relation to others even when standing on level grounds, saw things roll uphill (including my chapstick, which I now am sure has taken on some magical abilities,) swung pendulums that only swing one way, and hung crookedly. It was a neat experience but is quite difficult to explain. I highly recommend checking it out. Paul probably only moderately recommends it, though, as I think he commented on how touristy it was while I simply reveled in that.

After grabbing a quick brunch, we returned to Sasha’s to get some good advice on spots to see during the rest of our California trip. My cousin has the most remarkable memory of where he has been as well as a huge base of knowledge of places in CA and he gave us lots of tips. I’m pushing for him to write a tour book of the state. We loaded up, yet again, and decided to move on our way. First, though, we drove Sasha to campus so he could head to class and we could get a brief view of UC Santa Cruz. The campus is huge, mostly due to Reagan’s efforts to have a college layout without one focal point that could become a spot for students to convene and protest. In other words, a riot-proof university. There’s a big arboretum and many different colleges and just lots of beautiful space there. My favorite part of the university is that, of the ten colleges, only seven of them have names (have had huge enough contributions from one person/family to name the college after them) and so the other three are referred to simply as College 8, College 9, and College 10 until they, too, get some big shot to contribute. Fantastic. Anyhow, we said goodbye to Sasha, who looks scarily similar to my dad as a young man, and hit the road south.

We didn’t drive too far that day, wanting to see Big Sur and set up camp before it got too dark, so we camped right in Big Sur campgrounds. It’s lovely there, the rocky beaches astounding and impressing us with every turn of our drive along the twisty road. We had a typical camp evening: good fire, good meal, good wine, and great conversation, before retiring to an early bed.

The next morning, as we were tearing down the campsite, Paul and I came to an amusing discovery. When you are with someone 24 hours a day for many months, you start to read the subtle signs. And when someone is in a grumpy mood, you just give them some space and time to pull out of it. Well, after reading each other pretty well for 2 ½ months, Paul and I finally overanalyzed. We were both quiet when we first got up. One of us interpreted that as the other needing space and time and gave it. The other interpreted that space and time as the first needing space and time and so gave it. And thus a very silent morning pursued until I finally asked, “hey, are you in a bad mood this morning?” A surprised Paul responded, “no, I thought that you were!” We both laughed and returned to our normal talkative selves. We thoroughly enjoyed the drive on 1 again that day, stopping in San Luis Obispo for lunch at an all-you-can-eat pizza place. Because our next host wouldn't be home until about 6:30 and we were getting close to LA by mid-afternoon, we decided to stop in Santa Barbara to do a bit of reading on the beach. We hit the road again shortly and finished up the drive to Thousand Oaks, just outside LA, where my aunt and uncle live. My dad’s sister, Michele, and her husband, Bruce, live in a beautiful Spanish-style house just on the other side of a state preserve (meaning, no worries of construction happening behind their house!) and we were very happy to arrive at a place where we had, no joke, separate beds in separate bedrooms for the first time since Bozeman, Montana. We had a great dinner (I hope we remember to thank our hosts enough for accommodating our no-meat diets) and enjoyed the opportunity to catch up with my family.

Both Bruce and Michele were busy working in the daytimes, so they gave us a few words of recommendation, a set of keys, and sent us off to enjoy the surrounding areas. Paul and I decided that we wanted to have some serious R&R our first day in the LA area, so we did what one must do in sunny Southern California – we hit the beaches again.

Pacific Paul

We drove to Malibu beach (along the beautiful, yet dangerously twisted, 23) and enjoyed getting some Vitamin D, some good reading, some frigid swimming, and some surfer viewing. It was also a highly amusing afternoon, with bold gulls that tried to demand some of my lunch and a bleeding Paul debating whether swimming would just make him shark bait. I notice that, in addition to be significantly colder than the Atlantic, the Pacific Ocean also has extremely powerful waves. They were too wild to get any good body surfing in; I only succeeded in getting spat around and spanked a few times. It was good fun, though, and it was so nice to swim. We returned to Thousand Oaks for a delicious curry prepared by Michele and a dip in the hot tub. Clearly Paul and I, after a day at Malibu Beach, were in desperate need of a hot tub in order to relax. It’s a hard life, I tell you.

Thursday morning I was pleased to get some time to sit down and get some time at a piano before Paul and I packed a lunch and hit the hiking trails behind Michele and Bruce’s house. Somewhat stupidly, we left when the sun was high up in the sky but we brought plenty of water and did a moderately easy 5 mile hike, so it was okay. The trail took us up on the ridge of a mountain and down through switchbacks into Wildwood Park (where we finally were able to get some shade in which we could sit and enjoy lunch.) That part of the hike was lovely and fun; the walk from the park back to Michele’s house was less enjoyable, as we walked up never-ending steep hills on the roads.

the hike

Back at the house, we were able to enjoy some more down time (reading and more piano) before going out to dinner with Michele and Bruce. My aunt and uncle had wanted to give us an LA-specific dining experience and, after going through many options, settled on Bellisima, a cute little Italian restaurant. This may not sound any different from a restaurant back East, but what you have to remember is that probably 99% of the waiters and waitresses in LA are all, you guessed it, aspiring actors and actresses. And this restaurant uses that to their advantage by having the servers sing to the diners during their meals – it was definitely unique. The servers all had great voices and the food was delicious as well. Unfortunately, during dinner, Bruce’s baseball team lost their game, so we decided we needed an upper after the meal; we went to a karaoke bar down the street and enjoyed (again perhaps due to the prolific number of aspiring actors) some high-caliber singers, including my uncle. Paul and I were either too shy or too sober to participate. Either way, it was probably better for everyone there, as anyone who’s ridden in Speed Blazer during any of our singalong mixes can attest to.

Friday morning, Paul and I decided to actually see part of the city and headed to the Getty Museum. I was somewhat terrified, as this was my day of driving and we were going to have to use the infamous 405 to get there. I was on full alert, prepared for crazy CA drivers to try to push me off the road but I think that stereotype is perhaps somewhat hyped up. The drivers were mostly courteous and no one sideswiped us (although I don’t know if Paul and I would have been too upset if a nice car had hit us. Speedy could use some repairs that we would be more than happy to have a wealthy Angelino pay for.) Anyhow, we got to the Getty undamaged and were wildly impressed with the size and beauty of the building. It provided some great views of the city — and the thick layer of smog above it – and had gorgeous gardens that we enjoyed walking around. The exhibits themselves were decent, but it seemed a strange juxtaposition to have such exquisite housing for moderately good collections. We were sad to be just a few days too early for an exhibit of “Where We Live,” a photographic collection of pictures across the United States – it seemed like it would have been so fitting for our trip— but there was some great Impressionist art and an interesting photo exhibit, “Public Faces, Private Spaces.” But, as I said, the surrounding buildings and gardens were the real show-stealers.

Getty cactus garden, LA skyscrape, and smog

Central Gardens

this picture would be much more lovely if the trashcan weren't there

taking time to smell the roses

ohh, that LA traffic

We returned home to prepare dinner for my aunt and uncle that evening to thank them for being such amazing hosts and had a lot of fun treating them for one evening after they had done it for us so many nights. Paul and I again utilized the hot tub and this time figured the jets out properly, which was glorious. We had some really deep conversations while out there, too, including intellectual questions such as, “what is the basis of the expression ‘hot and heavy?’ What does it even mean?” (to which, suddenly realizing that I was sitting in a hot tub, the answer became evident: “Oh. I guess me.”) After toweling off, we had a really great time sitting around in the living room talking to Michele. My aunt is an amazing woman who, conveniently being a professor herself, had so much advice for Paul and me in regards to our interests in potentially being professors “when we grow up.”

me and my fam

We said goodbye to my aunt and uncle Saturday, after a quick lunch, and headed into the valley to catch up and stay with Leah, my good friend from high school who moved out here a year ago. She took us to the Grove that afternoon, an enclosed shopping enclave that was designed by the same people who did Disney. It certainly felt so, with adorable shop fronts and trolleys running right through the middle of the place. LA is so shopping-centric that we were happy to do window shopping and feel like we fit in. Which we didn’t. The Farmer’s Market was attached to the Grove and we enjoyed checking that out, as well, and got a delectable dinner there of savory crepes. After several hours of wandering around that area, we felt like we had done as much walking and people-watching that we could and we headed back to Leah’s apartment in Burbank. We opened a bottle of wine and sat around and had just a blast talking into the very late hours of the night.

We slept in just late enough the next morning to have it to be too hot for a run but not quite late enough to forgo breakfast at the Yum-yum Donuts just down a block from Leah’s place. Apparently there are hundreds of mom and pop shops that all have incredibly delicious and fresh donuts every day. There are no Dunkin Donuts or Krispy Kremes out here because the independently owned shops all are so good. After that incredibly healthy morning, the three of us met up with Leah’s good friend, Cole, and headed into Beverly Hills. Man, Beverly Hills seems like a completely different planet. All of the shops were so ridiculously ritzy and everyone there was dressed incredibly well and walking their tiny dogs. It was almost pretty, but in a completely fake sort of way, as any tree or store front looked like it had been planned, submitted to some board, and then given a stamp of approval after a few tweaks to best suit the swanky sorts of shoppers. And the stereotype of all the BMWs? Completely true. Paul and I discussed trading Speedy (who, by the way, no longer opens in the back, which makes getting stuff out of the trunk a whole lot of fun) in for a BMW, but we couldn’t agree on what color to get, so it all fell through.

Beverly Hills

At different points in the afternoon in Beverly Hills, both Paul and I received phone calls from friends who, after asking “what are you doing?” and hearing “oh, you know, walking through Beverly Hills,” were confused and/or amused, not surprising seeing as how Paul and I are probably the least Beverly Hills-type people as you can find. It was definitely fun to check out the area for the day, but I certainly don’t feel the need to do it again anytime soon. We managed to find lunch for about $10 each in Beverly Hills, though, which was quite a feat! A good lunch, too, at a French café. It was very hot, though, and the combination of all the walking and the sun wore us out and we all looked forward to collapsing on Leah’s couch for a bit of relaxing upon returning. And that brings us up to date. We have great plans for the rest of our time here, but rather than tell you about any of that, I prefer to leave you hanging. What’s next in store for Alina and Paul?! Stay tuned to find out…

Love,

Alina

the future

Yosemite, San Francisco, and Santa Cruz

Location: Santa Cruz, CA
Mileage: 7,800

We enjoyed a much needed recharge (and dirty roadtripper sanitation session) with Herb and Marion before setting off on Sunday morning for Yosemite National Park. The drive across the state was easy and quick, save for a stop at Trader Joe’s for victuals. We entered the park and drove straight to Yosemite Valley, rightfully nicknamed “the incomparable valley” for its splendor and beauty. After about 40 minutes of driving from the park’s south entrance we emerged from a tunnel and the view of El Capitan and the Half Dome looming over the green valley struck us head-on. Yosemite Valley is such a beautiful sight that it takes all the fun out of amateur photography by removing any challenge from the process of finding a beautiful shot. Nevertheless we pulled over immediately to do our duty as tourists and take the first of many, many Yosemite pictures. We then continued our drive into the valley and made our way to the visitor’s center where we looked at maps and got some recommendations from a park ranger. She pointed us towards the popular but breathtaking Nevada Falls hike, the same one Herb and Marion had recommended to us. We set our minds to do that hike the next day and decided to go set up camp somewhere to get in an early night to be well rested for Nevada Falls.

One of our first views of Yosemite

To save 10 bucks we decided to drive outside of the valley to one of the less popular campsites. We drove up Tioga Road into the Upper Sierras and found our campsite. We had our camp set up quickly, the two of us having become quite used to our own camp establishing rituals. Alina is the Organizer and Unpacker of Car, and Creater of Dinner, while I am Finder of Wood and Maker of Fire (we both set up the tent). The night went as camp nights usually do, a filling and simple dinner with some wine and a small fire before an early bedtime. This night was slightly tedious because we had to unpack all food and anything with a scent from our car and relocate it all to our site’s bear-safe container. I had never even heard of a bear breaking into a car for food, but apparently this is a persistent problem at Yosemite. Collecting all food and scented items (mainly toiletries) was much easier than it would have been had Alina not spent a few hours the day before cleaning and reorganizing our mountain of assorted luggage as well as cleaning out a full bag’s worth of delicious and tragically uneaten dark chocolate M&Ms I’d dropped under the seat back in Michigan and then forgotten about. Gross. We were careful to get everything out not only because the last thing we want is to have someone else destroying Speedblazer (we seem to do very well at that sans bears), but also because once a bear has tasted the left out food of some thoughtless tourist it quickly becomes habituated to looking to humans for food and is usually killed. We slept well that night, and though temperatures dropped quite low at such a high elevation, we were bundled up in our tent and sleeping with the peace of mind that comes only when you know that your granola bars and your shampoo are safely stowed.

The next morning we slept in a bit mostly because I thought that Alina would get up when it was time to start the day and she assumed the same thing about me. We’ve since started using alarm clocks again. By the time we ate and packed up our stuff and made the slow drive across the park to the valley it was a bit late to start our Nevada Falls hike, which we were advised to leave at least 6 hours of good daylight for. Instead we decided to check out bike rentals and possibly do some cycling around the valley. After a healthy dose of aimless wandering to find the rental stand we discovered that bike rentals in Yosemite are more than we deem reasonable (read: not dirt cheap) so instead we did some perfunctory exploration from the much more reasonably priced (read: free) valley shuttle. The ride around was beautiful and helpful for getting a feel for the geography of the valley. The drivers were also worth seeing, or rather hearing, as they talked about Yosemite and working for the National Park Service. One was particularly funny, relating his experiences as a tour guide at Alaska’s Denali park, where he had to drive treacherous cliff lined mountain roads and always promised his passengers that he would have “at least three wheels on the road at all times.” We rode the bus to Yosemite Falls, a quick and easy mile loop that offers nice views of the falls, which, because they are almost solely fueled by snow melt, were very low. After that we rode to Mirror Lake and hiked around there until we decided that it was about time for dinner.

The view of Half Moon from Mirror Lake

We camped that night in the Valley at Camp 4, where our guidebook promised us a more “bohemian” experience. Well, if sharing a communal campsite with a group of aloof, chain-smoking French rock climbers is your idea of bohemian (and I’ll bet it’s not too far from the mark) then the guidebook got it right! We set up camp and enjoyed an early spaghetti dinner before driving up to Glacier Point, an overlook from over 3,000 feet of sheer granite rock face above the valley. We had been read that on nights with a near full moon Yosemite’s abundance of exposed grey-white rock glows purple and makes for a spectacular sight. Unfortunately the moon was covered by a large mass of clouds by the time we made it up there, though the lights in the valley and the half of the sky free from clouds and full of stars made the drive up there worthwhile. We made a half-hearted attempt to wait out the clouds, but the temperature dropped quickly (it snowed later that night at that elevation) as did our enthusiasm for waiting for purple rocks when we, good sensible people that we are, could be getting warm in our sleeping bags at our bohemian campsite. And so we drove the twisting roads back down to the valley and crawled into our tent for what we used to call in college an old man bedtime. In college that meant anything before midnight, but this was a more authentic old man bedtime that put us in bed no later than 8:45, occasionally shaking our fists in dreary rage at our partying neighbors, lamenting those “damn bohemians,” until we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning we got up early to get a good breakfast in us before tackling the Nevada Falls trail, a seven mile journey that would have us ascending nearly 2,000 feet and promised to take up most of the day. We packed lunch to eat at the top and took the free shuttle to the trailhead and were well on our way by 10. The hike was absolutely amazing, featuring two beautiful waterfalls and plenty of Yosemite views along the way. The climb up was tough at places, especially the mile or so right before Vernal Falls where the trail turned into nothing but steep steps carved into the rock, but overall was really not too bad. When we made it to the top of Nevada Falls we were rewarded with a spectacular view and our lunch. We were also rewarded with some very bold squirrels that approached us in hopes of getting some food. We wanted to discourage them from associating ‘tourists’ with ‘free handouts’ so we thought how to best get them away. Well, they didn’t blink regardless of how loud we yelled or stomped our feet, but we didn’t want to throw anything at them in fear that they would think it was food, which would reinforce their ideas of food. After some time, we came on the bright idea of taking big swigs from our water bottles and squirting it at the squirrels. The other tourists at the top probably thought that the water-spitting Americans were weird, but we were the only ones who no longer had squirrels bothering them during meal time. After eating and then enjoying a brief repose we made our way back down the trail, taking our time to tread carefully so as not to tumble down the boulders and rock steps. The way back down was pretty but relatively uneventful, save for a rainbow at Vernal Falls. When the bus picked us up at the trailhead we were expecting it to be at least 4, since the trail is supposed to take 6 hours. We were surprised to learn that it was just 1:30 and that the hike hadn’t even taken us 4 hours. I’m sure they give inflated hiking times to make sure people don’t get stranded at dark, but that didn’t stop us from feeling that we were probably record-setting trailblazers due to our immense physical prowess and stunning good looks. It feels nice to have delusions.

Alina walking up the stone stairway to Vernal Falls

Rainbow at the falls

Looking up towards the top.

Nevada Falls from below

Nevada Falls from above

Lunch at the top!

Bad (but cute in a rodenty way?) lunchdates.

Pleasantly surprised to have an unexpected free afternoon, we made our way to Yosemite Village to watch the free film “Spirit of Yosemite,” which we’d read was great. It was a little hokey and we were surprised the film had earned such accolades, but then again our source had been banners on the Yosemite Valley bus so I suppose we shouldn’t have been so surprised. We finished the short film and made our way back to the campsite to rest and read until dinner. After dinner we again retired early and enjoyed a good night’s sleep as a reward for our long hike that morning.

We rose early the next morning to pack everything back into the car and start our trip back towards the Bay Area. Before leaving Yosemite, however, we wanted to make a few more stops. First we drove back up to Glacier Point to enjoy the views during daylight. I was spellbound by the view, as well as by the fact that we tried to enjoy this view in the darkness, which we both had a good laugh at when we saw the splendor of what we had been staring blankly at a few nights prior. Note: it is better to appreciate stunning vistas in daylight. We are learning so much. At any rate, we really enjoyed seeing Glacier Point and took some quality time to just soak in the vastness of the view before jumping back into the car and making our way to the Miraposa Sequoia Grove. After enjoying the redwoods up north relatively free of crowds, the sequoias seemed a bit less awe inspiring when outnumbered by herds of tour groups and screaming children. Still, the massive sequoias, the largest living things on the planet, were incredible, particularly the famous Grizzly Giant. We stared up at it in awe until our necks were tired, and then decided it was time to hit the road.

View of Half Dome (on the right) and they valley.

The drive across Central California, parched and brown this time of year by a long dry season, was again uneventful and easy. We made our way to the home of the Lenn’s, parents of my old roommate Roy, in San Jose and arrived late in the afternoon. After a little rest they suggested dinner and generously treated us to a meal at a really nice restaurant featuring trendy Singapore cuisine. Though Alina and I, greasy and perhaps a bit smelly from camping and hiking the previous days, didn’t quite fit in with the stylishly dressed Silicon Valley crowd at the restaurant, we had a really great time eating and chatting and getting to know Roy’s parents. By the time dinner was over it was getting late so after returning back to their place we just relaxed before falling asleep.

The next morning Alina and I got up early to take advantage of the pool in the Lenn’s development. It felt great to get some laps in, and by the time we had returned Mrs. Lenn was putting out an incredible breakfast feast with the works: eggs, yogurt, strawberries, grapes, muffins, breads, and more (just another example of what incredible hosts they have been). We ate and they advised us how to use the commuter train system to get into San Francisco. After breakfast we got ready and walked to the nearby light rail stop which took us to the San Francisco-bound Caltrain. It’s great to be in a place with such great public transportation, and I enjoyed the having some downtime on the train to relax and not worry about parking.

The Transamerica building that so defines San Francisco's skyline

Famous cable cars

Our two days in San Francisco were primarily focused on walking around and just getting a feel for the city. When we arrived that first day we made our way to Union Square and then walked around that area until finding a little café to get a small lunch in. Then we followed the Barbary Coast Trail, a self guided historical trail that uses plaques and arrows in the sidewalk to lead those interested on a 3.8 walk through historical San Francisco. The trail wound through the city streets somewhat ridiculously, and about half way through it, again finding ourselves backtracking, we decided we might just be better guides ourselves. We took some time to stroll through Chinatown and then made our way to the bay and walked along that for a while. Eventually we decided that we shouldn’t stray too much farther, already being quite a distance from the train station without knowing what time the trains stopped running (the train schedule I thought I had grabbed at the station had actually been the special schedule for Sharks games). We walked back via Russian Hill, home of the most crooked street in the world, and made our way to the North Beach area for dinner. It quickly became evident that we were out of our price range in this city, and especially in the swanky North Beach area, where outside of every restaurant is somebody in a tux trying to lure you into their establishment with promises of the best homemade pasta in the city for just $24 a plate!! We found a hole in the wall burrito joint where we spent less overall than just what the tip would have been in the neighboring restaurants, and enjoyed huge and tasty (cost effective = tasty) veggie burritos.

Lombard Street: the most crooked street in the world

After dinner we hit up the City Lights Bookstore, once epicenter of the Beat cultural and literary movement and still a really awesome bookstore dedicated to publishing local poets and writers under their own label. I bought myself what I thought was a very fitting souvenir, Kerouac’s Dharma Bums, only to realize on the following walk back to the train station that Kerouac probably wouldn’t have been proud of me for paying $16 for a paperback, even his paperback, in the name of Beat literature. Oh well. We arrived at the train station with about 30 minutes to kill, so we went to Safeway to get some ice cream. I was thinking we’d split a pint but Alina, get this, refused to split a pint of Ben and Jerry’s! Surely she’s mental. She made us get these tiny single serving containers which, though practical and probably healthier for me, certainly don’t give that satisfying “I just ate 1,400 calories of pure heaven” feeling that I like to get after my Ben and Jerry binges. Oh well again. At least I had something good to read on the long train ride back as we passed the “campuses” of every high-tech company I know of (plus many I’d never heard of). Taking the commuter train through the Silicon Valley; it’s not Kerouac but I suppose it works alright for us.

The City Lights bookstore, once a cradle of Beat literature

"You call this ice cream?!?"

We returned late and I made a relatively futile attempt to write a post before falling asleep. The next morning we again rose quite early to get some swimming in. We tried to be sneaky and just eat cheerios breakfast before Mrs. Lenn troubled herself to put out the entire spread for us, but she was cleverer than us and a great deal of carrot bread and fresh strawberries I did eat. We again took the train in and spent an entire day walking around. This time we walked directly to the north part of the city where we walked through the kitschy Fisherman’s Wharf and then made our way to the Ghirardelli chocolate factory. The factory is now an assortment of pricey shops around the nice little brick square, but it keeps its chocolate roots and you can take a self guided tour around to look at some of the old chocolate making equipment as well as sample and purchase all types of chocolates and sweets. We decided that, having packed lunch, we could splurge on splitting one of their huge ice cream sundaes, heaping with homemade dark chocolate fudge, caramel, and crushed almonds. Pure delectable gluttony. Fantastic.

"This is ice cream"

Escape from Alcatraz!

After the chocolate factory we started walking (well…waddling) towards the Golden Gate Bridge. We walked the four miles along the park-lined bay to snap our Kodak moment type shots in front of the bridge. Originally intending to walk across it, we decided to change our plans because Alina’s cousin who lives in Santa Cruz, Sasha, had called to say he would be in San Francisco that evening and would like to grab dinner. So we decided to go by foot (why don’t we ever take buses?) the long and hilly way down to the Castro and Misson district, the area where we were to get dinner. We had a nice walk around the Castro district, purported to be the LGBT capital of the world, and having heard so much about the flamboyance of the area, were surprised to find it less like a 24-7 pride parade and more just an interesting and very individualistic neighborhood. We sat down to drink some tea and get off our feet momentarily at a café before walking towards the Mission district, where we met up with Sasha and drove to his friend’s house. One of his friends had heard about a really great Burmese place nearby, so a group of six of us left for the restaurant. The walk there took us through south Mission, a more, uh, unique area full of Latino evangelical services and interesting characters on the streets, one of whom approached Alina and Sasha as they were talking to each other and fondled Alina’s hair and offered to buy her for $200. The walk was worth it, however, and we arrived at Yoma, the tiny Burmese place, to find the prices incredibly cheap, the food great, and the two Burmese women cooking for us right on the other side of the bar quite charming and funny. After dinner we walked to a nearby bar called Zeitgeist to hang out some more and have a beer. Sasha had generously offered to drive us back to San Jose on his way to Santa Cruz, so we were freed from concerns of getting back to the train station and could relax and hang out. We had completely missed the fact that it was Friday the 13th until our walk back to his car where a man in what appeared to be a crazy tie-dyed spandex jump suite serenaded us at a crosswalk with his recorder. After that last bit of excitement we made it back to the car and Sasha drove his friend home and then took us home as well.

Obligatory cheezy Golden Gate Bridge shot

The next morning we took our time doing some laundry and getting packed up. The Lenns asked us to stay for lunch so we enjoyed a really good vegetarian lasagna that Mrs. Lenn had prepared. After lunch and getting everything into the car we said goodbye to them and headed towards Berkeley once more, where we were to meet up with another cousin of Alina’s, Nichole. We got to Berkeley a little before Nichole was free to meet with us so we busied ourselves by walking around downtown and eventually into a used bookstore where we bought even more used books. Soon after that we met Nichole and walked around Berkeley with her. She showed us to Amoeba, a huge record store that sells all kinds of new and used music. After that we sat down with her at a café and her and Alina got to catch up some. It was getting later and we knew we had to get to Santa Cruz that evening so we left Berkeley after a quick dinner at an Indian place and drove south to Santa Cruz. When we got there we went on a walk with Sasha to the nearby beach and listened to the sea lions barking in the distance. After our beautiful walk to the beach we returned back to Sasha’s to watch “Thank You For Smoking” before falling asleep.

The day was largely a recharging day for us. We went to brunch with Sasha downtown and then walked around some really cool rock formations called the moon rocks, formed hundreds of thousands of years ago when they had been the coast. From there we went to Panther Beach, which was absolutely beautiful with both cliffs and sandy beaches. My favorite part of Santa Cruz came next: the strawberry farm. Here strawberries grow year round, and for next to nothing you can come and pick your own. We spent a long time in the fields loading up with more strawberries than I ever dreamed six dollars could buy. Some of them are so huge it’s like eating an apple. Having picked and eaten an ungodly number of strawberries we returned to Sasha’s where we relaxed, read, watched tv, wrote an enormous blog, and ate more strawberries. Sasha had plans to go to a show back in San Francisco, but he let us just hang out at his place so we took the time to enjoy a nice Sunday night in. Today we’re going to do a few more of Santa Cruz’s sights before heading down the coast towards Big Sur en route to LA!

Cheers,
Paul

Oh yeah, we forgot to tell you about when a bird shat on Paul's nose

Location: San Jose
Mileage: 6700
Number of times that the statement "I swear I'll write a post tomorrow" was uttered since last post: 34

Dear blog readers,

1. We are sorry.
2. We've been busy.
3. We haven't had access to the internet.
4. We were abducted by aliens who have been performing tests on us for about 11 days and finally released us back to earth after putting false memories in our heads to account for the past week and a half that we will now write about as if true.
5. Get your own life!
Directions: Feel free to choose any of the above as the statement we would use to address the fact that we have not posted in a long time. Go on, choose whichever you like best and go with it.

And so here we go. Tuesday morning (that is, September 26) had Paul and me still making last minute decisions. We had done some exploring of the city already -- did we have the time and inclination to drive all the way to Mt. Rainer and back in a day or did we want to do more (and more thorough) exploration of Seattle? *note: if we ever really got on top of things, we could start writing this blog as a "choose your own adventure" sort of reality story. We could put our options up online and let you choose what we do! What do you think?!? Okay, well, no. Perhaps not.* Anyhow, we opted for the latter option simply because there was not enough time to really appreciate the mountain if we were going to be back in time to pick up our 4th travel companion. So, Paul and I set off for a walking-intensive day, starting with the University District, where the pinnacle of the city's beauty lay: Mt. Rainer framed by trees behind a beautiful fountain, coming down the steps of the neo-Gothic architecture of the academic buildings. I tell you, that campus sure was lovely and has a knock-out library. U of Washington certainly has its appeals...

swoon worthy, eh?

From there we headed across the bridge to Volunteer Park, home of the Seattle Asian Art Museum. The SAM (the Seattle Art Museum) is presently closed for renovations and so that was our only art opportunity for the city -- which was certainly not disheartening to me, as I love Asian art. What was disheartening, however, was that the museum closed at 5 PM and we arrived at 4:52 PM. We made the best of the situation, though, by viewing the surrounding area and then bustling home. It was probably best that we did so as we were, as mentioned before, picking up a fourth passenger that evening. Senor Peter Baxter had decided that between traveling Australia and moving to Cortez, CO that he had time to spend a week and a half in the northwest US with Paul and me before settling down to a job. We were pleased and excited to have him join us and I set off the for the Seattle airport with a set of directions and plenty of time to pick him up. Twenty minutes later, however, I still had not found the entrance to I-5. A frantic phone call to Paul, who had no map in front of him to elucidate the route we figured out earlier, got passed off to Whitney, our global freeloader Seattleite hostess (remember her?) who helped me to find it as well as helped me to feel less stupid for having been unable to do so on my own: "Oh, from Verena? Yeah, you have to turn at that intersection, but not into the intersection itself but across it and into a soft curve on the side. And then once you do that, the sign for 5 is hidden behind some shrubbery so you'll have to just turn right." Anyhow, I was a little late picking up Peter, but he was kind about it and we made our way back to Jerry and Whitney's with little problem. We stopped in for greetings and introductions between Peter and our hosts and then our trio headed back out for pizza (Chubby Buddy stayed at the house -- he's had enough to eat.) We did a bit of catching up, hearing about each others' trips, and then headed home, full and happy.
The next morning we went back into downtown Seattle to show Peter Pioneer Square and Pike Market before heading up to Downtown downtown where we caught Doubletake: from Monet to Lichtenstein, an exhibit at the EMP (Experience Music Project.) This small but interesting presentation paired unexpected pieces of art next to each other and "compared and contrasted." The audio speaker had a very pleasant delivery, made intriguing comments, and pronounced the word "fantastic" with more emotion than anyone else I've ever heard. From there we grabbed a quick Greek lunch across the street from the Space Needle (which we did not pay to go up in but admired from outside) and then took a quick but fun tour of KEXP, an independent music radio station that Paul has spent his college career broadcasting via internet. He even has a bumper sticker on his car of the station (which came in handy when we first got into the city and were trying to remember what station to tune into.)

impressive, yes, but not worth $15 to go up

We moseyed back to Jerry and Whitney's house to pack up our stuff (after a stop back at Pike Market to pick up some materials for dinner, some flowers for our wonderful hosts, and to check out a Monk fish) and then bid farewell to Jerry before heading to a different part of the city for a dinner party and a sleepover (well, for us 3, anyhow) at Nicole's house, a friend of Peter. The car ride over proved unhappily eventful with the discovery of an antifreeze leak into the car. We started making back-up plans even during the dinner party. Even if tainted with worries about the car, it was a fun evening and we got to meet several of Peter's friends. The next morning brought news/realizations that our plans to depart Seattle were necessarily on hold. We made an appointment with a garage for the next morning (Friday) and called Jerry to ask, as nicely as we possibly could, if they would be so kind as to let us come back for two nights. The graciously and kindly welcomed us back (they were/are our angels of the West Coast, no doubt about it) so we again made the best of a bad situation and went out for more exploration. We spent most of Thursday at the Seattle Asian Art Museum (since we missed it the first time around) and really enjoyed that. The museum had a good mix of art and a lot of information. My favorite parts were the "Nocturnal Vision" exhibit (especially Morris Graves' art), the immense collection of Buddhist art, and a wordless film about the struggles of women through tree imagery.
We spent some time wandering around other parts of Volunteer Park -- up in the 540 degree (don't ask; I don't get it either) viewing tower -- and then headed over to the Arboretum. We had nice walk and then a rest by the water, where Peter and I played frisbee while Paul had a long phone chat. We enjoyed the day but, I think, we were all anxious about the following morning's car appointment where we were going to discover just what needed to be done. We got the car in Friday morning by 8, as expected, and then spent pretty much the entire day sitting in cafes and restaurants while waiting to hear back. The problem, which I won't even pretend to understand completely (or even mostly), seemed to be with the heating core. In order to fix this problem, which was causing anti-freeze to leak onto the floor of the front passenger seat, it would take about 8 hours of labor and cost about $1200. There was another option, though, which was to bypass it -- this would be less than an hour of labor and about $80. The decision was clear if the both options were presented, but we still had to wait to hear whether bypassing the problem was, in fact, an actual possibility. We read our books and drank our coffee and discussed philosophy (no, seriously) until we heard back from the garage -- the bypass could be performed! This was good for our schedule and our wallets. A few hours later, we were able to pick up the car, oil change and bypass completed. So now there was no anti-freeze leak! Granted, there is also now no heat. But eh! We'll just buy more fleece. We picked up some groceries and headed home to make a fajita dinner for ourselves and our hosts -- we figured we at least owed them one more good meal for letting us return to encroach on their space. Dinner and conversation were good and fun but we were mostly excited about leaving Seattle and getting back on the road the following morning.
Whitney and Jerry sent us off with bellies full of a delicious huckleberry pancake breakfast and we headed south out of the city until Olympia. We had driven long enough and digested enough of those pancakes to pause in the state's cute capitol for lunch and so we bought baguette sandwiches and took them down to the docks to eat and stretch before clambering back into the car and heading north up the peninsula. We made it to the Hoh Rainforest, in Olympic National Park, just in time to set up camp and get a fire going. I think that night also finally provided Peter with the knowledge that he was traveling with two... special people. He strummed on the guitar while Paul and I made up and belted out some "Olympic Rainforest Park blues" verses. He finally stopped playing and responded to our pleading and questions of why he stopped with a humorous but firm, "Sure, it was fun for you all, but I had to listen to it!!" It was a great evening with a nice fire, a delicious meal (Indian simmer sauce and fresh veggies,) and a nice bottle of Shiraz. No complaints to be had. Except of our singing, I guess.
We awoke the next morning, tore down camp pretty quickly, and embarked on a sweet little hike through the rainforest. It truly was magical and I don't think that any of us would have been surprised to see fairies fly by or elves scamper around. We rested by a beautiful river for stone skipping and daydreaming before heading back to the car.

rainforest verdure

waterfall and magic

Paul and me disrupting the calm of the rainforest with our feuding ways that only now are being caught in pictoral evidence, with the presence of a third party to hold the camera

lovely

Peter skipping stones. No joke, I saw some skip a dozen times.

Back to Speedy for a beautiful drive down the coast on 101, a road that you simply must drive along should you ever be out on the west coast. We headed all the way down to Portland, arriving relatively late at Jake's house (another friend of Peter's) for a dinner of takeout Lebanese that was good and filling. We proceeded to sit around, getting to know Jake's girlfriend, Leah, and his housemates that evening. Everyone was really outgoing and interesting and made us feel right at home. One of his housemates, Sabrina, was a left-wing crusader who gave Paul a high five for being a teamster at UPS. We were too ashamed to admit to her, amidst her rants about people driving their gas-guzzling SUVs, that we were road tripping in a Chevy Blazer. We set up camp that evening on their fouton and sleeping pads in their spacious living room and enjoyed a good night's sleep. That next morning we met up with Jake on his time off (he works with children before and after the school day so we hade a nice chunk of time in between to do some exploring with him.) We drove to Forrest Park for a nice walk around the trees and appreciating high-up city views. We went to the downtown area for lunch where they have a row of lunch stands which are all extremely cheap and very good. I had a delicious $4.50 Indian meal of which I couldn't even finish half!! From there, we walked past Powell's, Portland's huge and famous bookstore. We popped our heads in but didn't have much time before having to head back so Jake could get to work on time. It was tough to leave, though, and we decided to return to the bookstore after getting Jake home. Well, that we did and spent about 2 1/2 hours browsing, selecting, skimming, and essentially drooling over so so many books. We left finally, poorer but happier. I even secured a used copy of a Charles Lindbergh biography that I've been interested in since St. Louis, for all you faithful readers who may recall our intrigue.
One other noteworthy thing of that afternoon is that of a very sad case. I wracked my brain for the best way to write this on the blog as hearing news such as this is hard any time, but, I think, it is even more so in written word. Sometimes it's better to hear bad news face to face. But, alas, I am on the other side of the country and can not do that. Nor do I really have the capability to make phone calls to all of you. I suppose this forum will have to do for this news. But, please, brace yourselves. I don't want to be responsible for any harm that comes to you after reading this. Are you sitting down?





Chubby Buddy died.

We wept a little. Our foursome is no more. We are down to three. He will be missed.


We returned to Jake's and met up with Leah for a tour of Reed. Man, that school looks so cool -- it's very small and so students seem to really be able to do things the way they want them done. The UC, for example, is completely student-run, so it was a hip attic-like environment. We also checked out the library and the rooms where all the student theses are filed. Everyone at Reed must write a thesis as part of the undergrad degree requirements and so there were thousands of titles to read over and pieces to skim through. From there, we five went to dinner at a very tasty sushi place before returning to Jake's house, where his housemates were all engrossed in a viewing of Sundown: Retreat of the Vampire, which we happily jumped into. It was so so bad that it was exquisite. Friends, I highly recommend this movie. Especially for Megan.
The next morning, after Jake's first leg of work, we drove up to a higher point (some mountain/park whose name I can't remember, sorry) to get some views of the city before heading back down to town to get some veggies and freshly baked kalmata olive bread for us to take on the road, as well as a take out lunch which we took up to the Portland Children's museum, where Leah works, to meet up for lunch. This area also houses the Japanese Gardens and the Rose Garden, among others; we took a stroll through the rose garden, internationally acclaimed for its test hybrids, smelling and viewing the beautiful roses. We had to hit the road, though, so we wrapped up, took Jake home, and bid farewell to Portland.

Peter and Jake

They smelled so good I wanted to eat them

taken by Paulia O'Keefe

From Portland, we headed into Willamette Valley, one of Oregon's finest wine producing regions, to sample some goodies. Our first stop was Cooper Mountain Vineyards, an organic and biodynamic vineyard, which we sold in the store where I worked this summer. The wine was quite good and it was fun to discuss the process of transitioning to organic as well as the levels of demarcation for 'organic' from different sets of standards with the tasting room employees. I skipped right to the reds for my tasting so I don't know how their whites were, but the reds were enjoyable and we left with a bottle of their Old Vines Pinot Noir and two bottles of Faces, their table blend. We stopped at another winery a ways down 10 W, with which we were not terribly impressed. We then had to move on (partly because the tasting rooms were closing and partly because we had a lot of driving ahead of us.)

veni, vedi, veci vino

Back to 101 for more scenic driving as we headed south. We spent that evening in a little campground right on the beach. Up the next morning, we packed up for another long day of driving down the coast. It was a long -- mostly without stops -- drive, but it was so gorgeous that we didn't mind. We hit the redwoods of southern Oregon later that day and stopped for the night to camp in the Jedediah Smith Redwoods Park, where we met the friendliest park ranger who gave us all sorts of tips and advice on where to go and what to see all down the coast. We walked a little trail around some redwoods the next morning and were just blown away. You hear about how big the trees are or you see pictures of them, but there's really no comprehending it until you actually see them in person. It's almost as if you can blink and when you open your eyes, you see that it's not the trees that are so big but instead that you have shrunk.

more of our ninja fighting

Um, Peter?

We hopped back into the car and continued our drive south, driving through more spectacular arborous roads, as we weaved through the Avenue of the Giant roads. We stopped that day for lunch in Garbersville, CA's pot-head haven. It is apparently where the bulk of all of CA's marijuana farming is done. The town during our time there didn't seem very different, except for the strong sweet and bitter smell exuding from the restaurant bathroom and the flocks of teenagers singing Bob Dylan on the street corners.
Onward and Southward! We camped that evening on Mendocino Lake, which was very lovely; Peter and I even took advantage of the lake and went for a swim before the sun got too low. We all enjoyed a stroll around the lake as the moon came up to take pictures and collect more firewood before retiring to our site for a hearty meal and several ghost stories.

just one of many scenic viewpoints along 101

clouds above the lake

clouds above the lake, take 2

Paul jumping in front of the camera as I try to capture the moon

Up the next morning, we planned out a few wine stops, as we were driving right through Sonoma Valley. Our first stop, Geyser's Peak, was lovely and our wine pourer was fun (and poured us far more samples that we were supposed to get) and the wine was very good. The tawny port, however, was just great and we left with a bottle of their (numerous times) award-winning Sauvignon Blanc and a bottle of the port. On to Clos du Bois, where we were planning to go anyway but were even more inclined after being presented a coupon from our fun pourer at Geyer's Pea. Great wine, but there was a busy bustling feel which made our tasting take some time and answers to our questions take even longer. I liked their Chardonnay, though, which is a big deal for me as enjoying a CA Chardonnay is an unusual occurrence for me. Actually, I liked most of their wines but the Cab Sauv was the best. Their wine was a bit out of our price range, so we continued on with empty hands but tingling taste buds over to Dry Creek Vineyards. Again, a beautiful setting and a fun pourer but affordable wines added into the mix equals three happy wine tasters. All of the wines were pleasant but their Merlot was really good (yeah, yeah, you Sideways fans, go on and laugh all you want) so we got a bottle of that before pushing on in search of lunch. Yes, that's right, all of those tastings took place before lunch. We're giant lushes, what can I say? We found a quick meal in a nearby town and got back on the road to Berkeley, where we met up with another Peter, a friend of our traveling Peter. He gave us a tour of the campus, including the famous protest sites and the Greek Theatre. We grabbed a quick dinner (good and cheap Thai) on Telegraph St. before driving down to San Jose, where we were staying the night with Marion and Herb, the aunt and uncle of Peter (the traveling one, not the Berkeley PhD candidate.) They are a fun and lively duo! They welcomed us warmly and stayed up late chatting with us about everything from politics to travel. We enjoyed hearing about when they were young and took a trip like ours in a VW bus. Classic. Paul and I are lucky to have met such kind people, though, as we discovered that night (last night) that our two plans for places to stay in Berkeley both fell through. Marion and Herb assured us that we could stay with them while we figure out where/what to go/do next. This morning we were all up early for breakfast because Peter's flight to CO was today. We drove him to the airport, perplexed that it had already been a week and a half since he had joined us -- where has the time gone? (Aliens?!?) One thing that we are discovering about this trip is that as exciting as it is to constantly go to new places and meet new people is that it means that we are also constantly saying goodbye; those goodbyes are often sad and hard and this one was certainly not any less so.
That brings us up to date, ladies and gentlemen. I write this in Herb and Marion's living room as our laundry whirs away and we re-think our next steps. We -- again -- apologize for the monstrosity of this post as well as the long time in between entries. But hopefully the length of this post can counteract the amount of time between posts by satiating your desires to know what's going on in the world of Paul, Alina, and Speedy.
Until next time,
cheers,
Alina