Loading...
Start a new Travel Blog! Blogabond Home Maps People Photos My Stuff

kleer001

26 Blog Entries
1 Trip
188 Photos

Trips:

Tijuana to Vancouver

Shorthand link:

http://blogabond.com/kleer001


just a dude


Day 9b

Eureka, United States


That's lunch. There's a lot of information to take in there, let me walk you through it. The juice on the left is a pomegranate raspberry 100% juice drink from Nantucket Nectars (happily no high fructose corn syrup). Yes, those are Trivial Pursuit cards in the sugar dish. They're well loved and placed on every table. Requisite salt and pepper, natch. Did I ever tell you that my great grandfather insisted that there was no difference between katsup and mustard save the color? Yes, well, I can tell, but I don't mind them mixed. Then the good stuff. This place had a heated tureen of bbq sauce. It was de-lish. At the end of my meal I had abandoned any pretense of civility and proceeded to slurp the sauce directly from the small serving cup. NOM! That little betsy in the foil is a "small" chicken sammich. I'm glad I didn't get the large. It was at least a third of a pound of slow white roased chicken meat dumped between a quarter bagette of savory butter infused garlic bread. So damn good. Last but not least are the fried potato wedges. Simple but effective. Was at least two medium potatoes. This monument of nom was brought to you by the good people at Eureka's 'Porter Street BBQ'. If you're in town, go.


I love maps. These folksy ones especially. This is at the 'Porter Street BBQ'. I had just finished a chapter in the pulpy sci-fi book I was reading (Joe Haldelman's "Camoflage") and the couple below the painting had just left.

Eureka I found was truly out of my ability to safely drive. From the hotel I had a two hour ride through misty mountain roads and dog leg turns, steep hills. And that was during the day. I could have made it if I were a coffee fiend with a cast iron stomach. I'll be taking it easy with the stomach abuse for a few more days.


On the way to Eugene I stopped at a state beach. It was a wide beach, a good 100 yards from end of the dunes and scrub to the waterline. Low tide most probably. I saw a raven. It was obviously not a crow, more stately, thicker beak, maybe a little wiser, maybe I'm projecting. They were pecking at large lumps of sea weed. Sacrificing my good taste and respect I startled them a little and captured their flight for your pleasure.


More things I will not be seeing on this trip, damn damn damn. Though that's true, I wonder what my tolerance for this high percentage of oxygen is. Will I merge with the soil and undergrowth on a longer trip? Will my beard grow and branch and be home to birds and squirrels?


This is basically the drive. Toss in some turns and twists and hills and views. I wish I had a fish eye lens for this view business.


Had to stop for water, pulled into this town, Tiberon? Just a little beautiful cove. See, If I had time I could have walked down to the virgin beach, swam out to the rocky island and munched on some wild berries and bark.


Check it, yo. Old dude with a covered wagon. I doubt he has a cell phone or wi-fi in that thing. I could be wrong though, he could be a deep sleeper cell from the civil war. The driver was, yes, a grey old gentleman with a giant beard and leathery face, ancient and patient.



permalink written by  kleer001 on November 25, 2008 from Eureka, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
tagged Beach, Lunch, BBQ, California, Raven, Oregon, CoveredWagon and Crows
Send a Compliment

Day 9a

Humboldt Hill, United States


Oh god the driving. I only made it to Humbolt. I was subject to full brain failure. Little jerks here and little twitches there, small gaps in attention and overall drowsyness. Not good things that you want while you drive unfamilar roads. The sign said "Rest Stop Ahead" and I thought it best to strech my legs, throw away some trash, make some water. This is the creepyest rest stop I've even seen. Sure, there were signs that said "Patroled by CHP", but I had a hard time believeing it. It was tucked away about a quarter mile from the actual road and so dark and quiet. I didn't even get out of my car.


Slumped into a hotel with no wifi. Damnit. I just wish I had gotten up earlier as there was a strange long line of people all checking out at the same time. Trucker guys wearing jackets of camo and stinking of the cheap beer that saturated their grizzly beards. Good people. There was the cutest little old lady at the counter. She carefully addressed every detail of the person she was serving, offered opinions and suggestions, and was generally the polar opposite of the big city experience. That was good too. After about 30 mintues it was my turn, I paid up got some postcards and was on my way.


Let me rewind just a moment for breakfast: apple, oatmeal, tea, juice, and background noise from the idiot box. The sky really was that even grey color, man. This is rain forest area.


I told my friend that 18 days is way too short for this kind of journey. Tragically too short. This is the gorgeous Avenue of the Giants. Next time I do this kind of thing I'm thinking more 180 days. Drive about an hour a day, setup camp and explore, get to bed early and up with the sun. That sounds good. I would have time enough to visit all the wonderful state parks and take in the local color be it brown, green, tan, or a little red.



permalink written by  kleer001 on November 24, 2008 from Humboldt Hill, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 8

Stinson Beach, United States


This is my very generous host becoming intimate with her coffee. Sadly I can't handle coffee myself, more for everyone else. I'm a builder's tea kinda guy, and maybe a ginger biscuit too. Sweet and creamy.


Now that I'm nearly halfway, let me introduce myself. I'm just a dude in the world. I'm a second generation California native. Mom is tall skinny blonde with blue eyes from the Bay Area, dad is a big ol' black man from Los Angeles. I grew up in the South Bay Area, San Jose, Campbell, Saratoga, Los Gatos. Went to school in the deep south, Savannah, just long enough so that I say y'all quite comfortably and have an occasional desire for grits, okra, corn bread, black eyed peas, fried chicken, deep fried cat fish, and a tall mint julep. I've been in London for the last 15 months and it's becoming more and more apparent how much I missed home. Dude!


Stinson Beach was gorgeous. All the beautiful landscapes and scenery, I keep weeping over the views, they're so grand, all the life and natural high frequency detail. It just seems everything is alright in the world.


Passing through towns with 2 and 3 digit populations. Passing large rolling green hills dotted with cows, sheep, horses, eucalyptus trees. Rolling through tight corners and narrow bridges at exactly the speed limit. Stopped at some general store and was witness to the power of a small troupe of grey haired vets on Harleys. Oh, the sound, the rumbling fierce burbling sound of a Harley.


I did a little dance at sunset, said a little prayer and was off. Oh, the rolling green hills and sparse trees at sunset. It seems it was a good idea to ride highway 1 (2 lane rustic and sweet) during the day and the 101 or 5 (fully modern freeways). No reason to drive slow if I can't see the scenery, and a damn good way to make time.
Maybe I can make Eureka tonight, though it's more likely I'll end up in Mendocino.


permalink written by  kleer001 on November 23, 2008 from Stinson Beach, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 5

San Jose, United States


While driving from Sata Cruz to San Jose I felt all the previous journeys across the same strech of road like clouds of ghosts. That family trip when my sister was just an annoying preteen, that school trip at the end of the year, that 3am slow drive, and so many more. The road twists and turns, ups and downs in a very pleasing manner. That is driving pleasure.

Before I made it to my grandparents' house I drove through old haunts, down familar streets. Los Gatos, Campell, old town areas, tree lines suburbs, strip malls. I drove up to the old scenic view by a water sanitation plant. That spot where I we were caught by the police and questioned seperately about the goings ons. Luckily my dumb pleasure of having a drivers licence to show them overrode any kind of reasonable fear I should have had. The windows were steamy, so, I can see why they shined in their overcompensatingly large maglights to see what was going on. This night it was only me and my memories and my tears.

Rolled into my grandparent's house around 9:30. They've been there for more than 50 years. This is the house where my mom, aunt, and uncle grew up. There's art on the wall I recall from my presentience youth, abstracts, landscapes, and abstracts.

My grandfather is a master locksmith. It was his hobby and now there's a glorious glass case in the foyer filled with padlocks and combination locks of all shapes and sizes. Some are clean and brassy, some are grey and pitted, some are bizarre mutations of what you thought was a lock. And that's just in the front room. Out in the garage are metal filing cabinates filled with sorted locks and near endless key blanks. He thought me how to copy a key when I was 12. I remember a christmas when he handed out lock picking tools to the young'ns and had us all practice on a plain vanilla 6 pin tumbler Master padlock. It usually took us a couple minutes to pop the thing open with the right jimmying and twisting.


It may sound odd, but I got my first professional haircut in 16 years. It was at this place with a spinning red white and blue barber pole. It was at this place where my grandfather and cousin have been getting their hair cut for decades. There was baseball memorabelia on the walls, baseballs, bats, and dozens of signed pictures. The guys behind the chairs were a gas. They tossed the one liners back and forth, kept the vibe light and friendly. When my guy was cleaning up the edges at my neck and ears he joked
"Oh, so, yeah this is the first time I've used this thing a 6 months."
one of the other guys piped in "Is that the rusty blade?" "Yes," he said "There was all sorts of bleeding last time." and on like that, you get the idea.

Dinner was with a good portion of my family sitting down at Chilis. Not exactly like the dinners out of yor, but damn close. Everyone's doing well. There's new pets, book deals, business meetings, and I was so damn happy to see more of my fam.

After dinner we headed our seperate ways. To Berkeley for me, and beyond.

permalink written by  kleer001 on November 22, 2008 from San Jose, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 6

Berkeley, United States

Arrived in Bazerkeley around 11pm, finally got to sleep around 2am. Got up early to give an old friend a ride to the airport. Hugs and kisses all around. It's so good to be back in the home hood.

I made it to Lanesplitters Pizzaria for lunch, was greeted enthusiasicaly by old workmates and saw some new faces too. Predicably not much has changed on the work side. There was a very simlar feeling in seeing and talking with biological family as this motly crew of crafty type computer nerdy art people. I made a horrible mistake at Lanesplitters. I've seen this mistake before. I don't know why I didn't catch it. Direct experience I've heard is the best teacher.

When my lady and I went to Morrocco more than several months ago she had a beer with our last meal. Sadly this I fear made her sick. Sick for 8 hours, laying passed out on the bathroom floor back in our hotel room. We were both very scared in that foreign place and we nearly called for an ambulance. Thankfully she was able to power through it and quickly recovered. Thankfully we were able to make our flight the next morning.

For lunch I had a couple slices of NY style pie, oh so good. For lunch I also had a few beers. I'm not sure how many, but at least 3 and all of different types, something pale, something dark, something rusty. Had it been two years ago I'm sure everything would have been fine. I would have been acclimated to the yeasty beasties and the level of booze, but I'm not and I wasn't. All my microbe belly beasties are without a doubt acclimated to the life of a keyboard jockey and mouse pusher in London. And my liver is used to near teatotaling aesteic existance. I attribute my sickness to the mixture of beers, the alien tiny biologies, and that massive bong rip. I spent the evening curled up next to the toilet. Equal parts puking my guts out and passing out. My body and I had a little tet-a-tet in there. It told me what was going to happen, I understood it and then it happened. Reverse peristalsis is the term. My biggest concern was blood. Was this ripping me a new one? Was it just food rejection? Yay, it was just the second one.


My good friend J let me crash on his couch and slowly I recovered. I have learned now 1) take it easy for a while after a long move with the beers 2) Your bud that brings you back gatorade after your night of excess is a brother indeed.

permalink written by  kleer001 on November 22, 2008 from Berkeley, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 7

Berkeley, United States


This was a recovery day. Organic Chamomile with Lavender, a couple rolls of Rolaids, organic Peppermit tea, "Digest More" enzyme formula, sweet rice and tofu roll, a bunch of mutant tiny bananas, two pieces of toast, a good ol' fashioned constitutional, and I'm right as rain, well, maybe a misty mountain top. Definitly not at 100% and it'll be bland food for a couple days, but I'm definitly improving.

I found this lovely stencil on my walk to the nearest Starbucks (where I could have uploaded pictures, but didn't remember). It was a whole bloody mile away, uphill.

If you have never seen a cat nomming on a piece of dry toast before, then you are in the large portion of people. I was just eatin' and the cat came up and plopped down and went to town. So. Cute.

It's nearly midnight and I feel great.

permalink written by  kleer001 on November 22, 2008 from Berkeley, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 4

Santa Cruz, United States


I went to the eucalyptus forest at Natural Bridges state park after a lovely breakfast with friends. I visited with the butterflies hanging in massive clumps. Lovely monarchs. My friend seemed to be enjoying a little synthenesia as he swore he could hear their wings flapping. Sadly I was not in such a state and they were quiet. I continued on to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, landmark of my youth.

Here's the empty boardwalk on an early Wednesday night. There's such high contrast here against all my memories of the place. It should be packed with people. There should be cries and laughter and loud music and the thunderous rattle of the two wooden roller coasters. It's dusk and there's a handful of people staring out at the ocean or holding hands and walking along the beach. My graduating high school class had a field trip out here years ago. I've been here on dates and lone wolf journeys, usually in the summer and it's always been packed. I simultaniously felt the empty present and the seasonal inertia of the 100 years it's been here. My own presence a tiny golden thread in its vast rolling tapestry.

Sunsets are such simple things repeated over and over again, every day, everywhere, continuously. Winter has robbed us of long sultry days, but the sunsets are still glorious. It's the clouds that make it for me. I even see god in there sometimes.

There was a little section of the arcade that had classic games. The kind of games that now-a-days come free with a cheap cell phone (if the licenses have run out). Tempest, Ms. PacMan, Frogger, Asteroids, et al. Peak evolutionary coin predators. Like sharks that go straight for your pocket. I had my Nintendo DS in my pocket at the time. With the right software it could simulate all the hardware in those games. What it wouldn't have is the grime and texture from years of hard banging by adults and kids. The controls had a solid feel, a realness that's smoothed over by the brightly colored games these days, the brain training games and collections of micro-games and cooking simulators.

Oh, the hard fought treasures of yesteryear. How they seemed so far away and high above. Spend 20$ on skeet ball to get a 2$ stuffed bear, of course. It's not the prize but the fighting, it's not the destination but the journey. I'm pretty proud that I can walk into any candy shop and buy whatever I like. Not that I would, but I could. That CD alarm clock, I'm not going to spend 2 hours and 30$ racking up 2500 tickets. Sadly that naivety has washed away never to return.

permalink written by  kleer001 on November 20, 2008 from Santa Cruz, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 4b

Campbell, United States


This is from one of my first memory clusters. The Day Care was just down the street from this sign which has miracuously arrived unharmed in the present.

permalink written by  kleer001 on November 20, 2008 from Campbell, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 3

Monterey, United States


On the last sun drenched beach I saw a huge flock of seagulls and had to stop. You would too, wouldn't you? I had to chase them around like the sincerely naive man child I let myself be more often than I probably should.


The gulls were oddly quiet. The sand was rough between my bare toes. The smell of rotting seaweed and salty air rejuvenated me. I imagined an art project I could have started, but didn't have the care. Collecting a teaspoon of sand from all the beaches I visit. Such a collection of matter probably exists in one form or another and will probably be distributed through the rental car and my shoes.

Drove though Big Sur, big windy mountainous pass. Lots of mist rolling up and over the road. Coming out of southern California into northern California was a wall of cloud. I could see it looming on the horizon. Gone was the blazing hot rays of merciless sun, grated through eucalyptus and filtered through mist. Up and down, sharp to the right, sharp to the left, switch backs and what seemed like loop-de-loops at the time the road rippled up the coast.

In Big Sur, while listening to Plaid's song Rakimou, 3 bloody times, I was finally able to start a little healing, repairing the loss, that distance from home, oh-god-I'm-finally-back feeling. While in London I had a bad acid trip, my very first. It was the end of my employment and Halloween. The fear, the fear, I had "The Fear". Like a cold shiny black needle through my heart I was pierced with the deepest most baroque paranoia I could imagine. I literally felt my heart was stabbed through the 6th dimension. I knew there was a secret ninja technique of stopping one's heart. I knew that I could stop if it I wanted to. Death was just a breath away.

I stopped at a little ditch to call my grandparents, to let them know I'd be in in a couple days. There were crows on the road. Lovely crows.
Drove up through Los Gatos and Campbell.




permalink written by  kleer001 on November 19, 2008 from Monterey, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment

Day 2-3

Buellton, United States


Night driving. It's all ink and stars. Bright white dwarf stars red shifted and dancing through curved space-time. There were Symmetric motorcycle cops waiting at the top of a hill as I exited Malibu. Oh, the patent leather tight laced melange of paranoia and sex. I'll be the first to amid that a good latex cop outfit and hot body poured into it can give me chub.


Was exhausted and making more and more mistakes of attention and fine motor control by Buellton. Stopped at the fine Marriott and tucked into some delicious wifi.
I don't have a tea problem, it's a habit and I can quit whenever I like. The only problem here is that my cup is empty, damnit.


Here's that shirt I picked up at the Crow Bar restaurant near Laguna. It's a bit thin and would be great in a wet t-shirt contest, probably not on me though.


This is the California highway I remember from my youth. The pale yellow grass and deep dusty green trees. I passed by a few wineries. Their rows and columns were not properly aligned to the road for the optimal effect, but I shall describe it in hopes that you recall your own similar experience of delight when the lines are right.
It's after hour 3 on a drive that's not quite half done. If you're lucky you've brought plenty of music, but still your immobile human body protests. Green, yellow, gray, blue, it all mushes together. Then there's an orchard or a factory plot and your view goes all Phillip Glass. The lines of vegetation are perfectly perpendicular to your sight and they thrum away into perspective. They look like the thin legs of some giant running along side your car. Maybe it's only one that you saw, maybe you were lucky and you passed by seemingly endless plots of cabbage and oak and apple trees and strawberries and bare tilled fields. That's what I looked for as a child on long road trips. The running thin green giant.



permalink written by  kleer001 on November 18, 2008 from Buellton, United States
from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver
Send a Compliment
Viewing 11 - 20 of 26 Entries
first | previous | next | last



author feed
 author kml

Heading South?

Online Spanish lessons with a live personal tutor FairTutor can hook you up with Online Spanish lessons with a live personal tutor. It's pretty sweet! Online Spanish lessons with a live personal tutor www.fairtutor.com
Navigate
Home
Find Blogs
Find People
Find Places
Find Photos
Browse Tags
Make Maps
Write a Blog Entry
search
Login

go
create a new account



   

Blogabond v2.40.58.80 © 2024 Expat Software Consulting Services about : press : rss : privacy
View as Map View as Satellite Imagery View as Map with Satellite Imagery Show/Hide Info Labels Zoom Out Zoom In Zoom Out Zoom In
find city: