Oregon

Long stretches of beaches with giant rocks rising from the sea, windswept, crooked trees, tidal pools with electric purple and orange starfish. . . we drove the entire coast of Oregon. We slept overnight in the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area. All we wanted to do was catch the sunset on the ocean and so took the trail over the dunes to see it. Well, we walked over the first dune and found ourselves in a desert wonderland.

Rolling, sandy dunes as far as you could see, the ocean far away in the distance. We walked and walked to random small hilltops of forest and then to the sandy, clear pools of water scattered about. We watched groups of ATV's and dune-buggies jump the ridges and skid out of wide turns. After one particular group had passed, the rear guard crested the hill, saw us, and drove over.

"You ladies lost your camel?" he said.
Nicole swooned, "Yes, he ran away. Please help us."
"Unfortunately, I can only take one of you."
"Take my mother, kind sir," said Nicole.
"As if!" Mary Lou snorted.

He tipped his helmet and drove off to rejoin his group. We took full advantage of the Recreation Area, and recreated. Nicole rolled down the dunes until she started getting a headache. Mary Lou made sand angels. We had so much fun that we spent the next day walking another section of the dunes. It was awesome.

Back on the road, pressing North, we stopped for a fill-up at the Chevron gas station near the Umpqua Dunes. It was full service, and as we sat and waited, we saw a thin little cat sneak out of the bushes, cross the busy street towards us and jump into the gas station garbage can. "Aw!" Nicole said. "Don't even think about it," Mary Lou said.

"Yeah," the gas station attendant chimed in, "that cat has been around here for a few days now. It's starving. I've been thinking about taking it to the shelter, but they will probably euthanize it."
"AW!"
"Fine," said Mary Lou, "if you can catch it, and it doesn't have fleas. . . "

Nicole bribed it closer with a piece of ham, grabbed the scruff of its neck and threw it into the RV. It catapulted itself up on the dashboard and pressed itself as flat as possible against the glass, eyes wide and wild. Nicole gave it a quick check for fleas, found none, and curled it up in a ball on her lap. It buried its head in her arm and rode the next two hours in silence.

When we stopped at the campground, kitty slowly, gingerly sniffed around the RV. We fed it milk and ham, and found out it was a she. Stomach full, she submitted to a brief health exam, some olive oil in the ears to clean them, and then took a long, deep nap. She has chosen to stay, is quite fond of us, and is very grateful. When she sits on our lap for some ear scratching, she raises her paw up and tenderly places it on our cheek. She uses the litter box, loves string and broccoli.

We named her Umpqua. A funny name for a funny looking cat. Mary Lou says she looks like a calico cat that's been put in the blender. She's a mash-up of colors and patterns, and has a thick black mustache like a Marx Brother, over a white bottom lip. It is our intention to find her a loving, stable home somewhere along the way, but how we'll make that happen, I don't know.

Driving North up the Oregon Coast, we stopped at the Sea Lion Caves. We smelled them before we saw them, but it was incredible to watch all the Sea Lions in their harems, sleeping and swimming in the rough surf. At sunset we stopped and walked out into the tide pools, poking at neon green, squishy anemones and brilliant purple star fish. We went to the Tillamook Cheese Factory, watched them make and package cheese, and ate lots of cheese curd. Had baked oysters and grilled crab and cheese at Pacific Oyster.

Stopped and saw the California Seals in another harbor. We watched them for a good hour, flopping their fatty bodies over each other to get better sleeping spots, barking at each other the whole time. A marine biologist who was there to tag the younger ones told us that all the hundred or so seals were all male, and the fattest they have ever been, due to the high number of salmon they are eating up the river. They were hilarious to watch.

We went to visit Mt. St. Helens on the anniversary of its eruption. 31 years ago, when Mary Lou was pregnant with Nicole, in 1980, it erupted, causing the largest land slide in recorded history. It was a rare, clear, sunny day, and we were blessed with some spectacular views.

We went into Portland, visited the Powell Street Bookstore, had lunch at Rogue Brewery and rode the tram up to for an overall view of the city. We hiked into the Columbia Gorge to chase some more waterfalls. It was a great hike through the steep caverns and wildflower covered hills of the Gorge. As we were leaving the trailhead, Nicole said that it be cool if she caught a snake today. And sure enough, on the way into the gorge, she spotted a snake, but couldn't follow it into the incredibly steep hillside. But, on the way out of the gorge, Mary Lou spotted a little guy, a garter snake, and Nicole caught that one. Snakes crossing your path usually mean forthcoming good fortune, or good sex, right?

We went back into Portland to hear Dj Joe play some lounge music at a place called Saucebox. Met some Aussie visitors, who ended up getting kicked out of the bar for breaking two glasses and being loud. They actually asked us to leave too, but when they found out we has just met them, they let us stay for a few more cocktails.

Oregon was fun! Our 20th state. Northward to Washington.


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Napa Valley and Northern California

We couldn't get any more reservations in Yosemite, it was time to go. But we just couldn't bear to leave yet, so we found a parking spot and spent the day crossing swinging bridges and chasing waterfalls. We took a wrong turn somewhere, and found ourselves traversing the boulder walls of the raging river to get up the falls. When the rocks became too slippery, and the drop down to the water too nauseating, we had to go straight up the cliff. Mary Lou almost lost her footing and refused to go any further, but Nicole was able to talk her back up to the trail.

By the time we got back to the RV, out of the park, and on the road, we were exhausted. For the sake of our brakes, we chose a more level road out than the one we came in on, through the mining towns of the 'Gold Coast'. At Sacramento, we hung a left and "Oh! Will you look at that! We're in Napa Valley!"

Derek Mims, Wine Consultant, had given us his suggestions, and we were happy to take them! Before parking up for the night, we had time for one vineyard. St. Supery was a great place to start. Their self guided tour takes you through the entire process of winemaking, closing with an aroma booth, where you stick your nose in a plastic tube, open the valve and inhale the essence of olives, cut grass, wet soil, grapefruit and many other yummy things you can smell in wine. It wetted our appetite and we enjoyed a great, closing-time tasting. We walked out with three bottle of white, the first time that's happened (usually, it's three reds)!

The next day, we toured the castle-like Rubicon, a Coppola Vineyard. Stone vaulted ceilings and dark wood, private tasting rooms. . . not too shabby a place. It's full of memorabilia from the entire family, including Oscar awards for Francis Ford, his wife and Sofia and an incredible collection of antique kinetoscopes, zoetropes, stereographs and motion picture projectors. Lunch was burgers, and milkshakes at Gott's Roadside, and then a tram ride over Napa Valley to reach the Sterling tasting room. We enjoyed the view of the volcano that formed the valley and deposited all the minerals and dust that gives the wine the Napa wine its distinct flavors. We kept calling it 'Mt. St. Helens,' but its really St. Helena. Tsk. Tourists. . .

Drove North, spent the night at a KOA that was overrun with albino bunny rabbits, and then back to the Pacific Coast Highway. We went for a late evening walk through a pine and rhododendron forest. We happened upon a herd of deer, who allowed us to sit and watch them as they grazed along the more open meadows. As we continued through the clearing, we saw a tire swing hanging from a robust, sunlit tree. As Nicole ran ahead to jump on the swing, she noticed some wooden planks up the trunk, like a ladder. Up in the tree was a totally fantastic tree house. Six different levels, carpeted, all with a different view of the forest, the valley and the lake in the distance. There was an old leather car seat way out on a limb as a lookout perch. We stayed and played for a bit, then headed back to grill ears of corn and hotdogs on the campfire.

We enjoyed the next few days in Mendocino and Humboldt County. Total hippy territory. The grocery store in Eureka was full of organic foods and unshaved armpits. Stopped for some smoked salmon filets and smoked trout jerky. Drove North through Redwood State and Redwood National Park. Took all the scenic roads, camped overnight on 'The Avenue of Giants'. We stopped for herds of Elk crossing the road. And drank lots of coffee. On every block around here is a tiny little espresso booth. Some sell hotdogs or donuts too, and they give you a little chocolate covered coffee bean on the lid of your cup.


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Wawona, in Yosemite

We weren't at all ready to leave Yosemite Valley, but, it was the weekend, and all the campgrounds were fully booked. We even tried to get a spot in the Southern most campgrounds in the park, in Wawona, but were told they were also full. We knew we had to head South anyway, because that's where the giant sequoias were waiting, in Mariposa Grove. We took our time leaving the valley, stopping to say goodbye at all the many wonders: Goodbye, Half Dome. Goodbye, Yosemite Falls. Goodbye, Cathedral. Adios, El Capitan. Goodbye, BridalVeil. We'll be back. For sure.

We drove South through the park, weaving our way up and down through the forests until we reached the campground at Wawona. We drove up to the park ranger and said the we knew it was a long shot, but might they have an open spot for us? No chance, she said. Ah well, it was worth a shot.

As we were driving to the Wawona Lodge to make a new plan, we saw a Campground Reservations park sign. Without hesitation, Mary Lou turned the RV down the dirt road and to the park trailer. Another RV pulled in right beside us, so Mary quick stepped her way up to the Ranger. Might you have a spot for us tonight? The Ranger said, probably not, but, let me check the system. We watched the little yellow mayflies dart over the long grass in the sunshine while she tapped away at her computer inside. "Is two nights here at the Wawona campground okay for you? It's the very last available spot" she came out asking. "Of course!" we said a little too excitedly. The Polish couple that were waiting behind us walked away crestfallen.

We thanked our lucky stars, parked up and put on our hiking boots. Nicole wanted to hike up to Chilnualna Falls (difficulty: difficult), but Mary Lou demurred and said the Meadow Walk looked much more interesting. We walked across the golf course and followed the old logging road through the forest skirting the Wawona meadow. It smelled like cedar heaven and every step was cushioned by the trail's pine needle blanket.

After about a mile of walking, we both caught movement up ahead and stopped in our tracks. It took a few moments to focus through the dizzying stripes of sunlight and shadow. "Wolves?" Nicole asked. "Coyotes," Mary Lou said. A pair of them, still trotting up the trail towards us. They paused, briefly, sniffed the air, but kept on coming towards us. We instinctively, slowly stepped aside, and it seemed as if they were going to pass right by. At only about fifteen feet away, they veered off the path and walked around us through the meadow. Absolutely silent, they moved gracefully and left us feeling that this sure was a lucky day.

We decided to celebrate our good fortune with a drink at the Wawona Lodge. We took a spot on the porch, ordered some martinis and watched the sunset over the pine trees. We struck up a conversation with the trio next to us. They were from Texas, as we had guessed from the fantastic ostrich boots the gentlemen was wearing. We talked about all we had seen in he Lone Star State. After they went inside for dinner, we chatted with the couple on the other side. Also very charming, he was an English anesthesiologist and she, an Irish nurse who smelled of Joe Malone, Red Roses perfume. Delightful company all around, and it was a lovely way to end our lovely day.

The next morning, we woke up early, put on our hiking shoes and headed into the Mariposa Grove. We had been waiting to see the giant sequoias this whole trip, but really had no idea what to expect. There was snow at the trailhead, and Mary Lou started to wonder if she had made a mistake by wearing her walking sandals instead of sneakers. We hadn't even reached the sequoias yet, but we kept staring up in wonder at the Ponderosa Pines and Cedar trees. Even they were incredibly tall. Towering above us.

The first famous sequoia we met was the Grizzly Giant, one of the oldest and largest in the park. You can read all you want about these ancient trees, but you just don't understand until you are standing at the base, bending backwards to look up the massive trunk, to the short, thick branches. They are just. . . unimaginable. The Grizzly Giant is over 30 feet in diameter, and some of its limbs are over 6 feet in diameter. That's bigger than many of the trees in the grove.

We hiked a half a mile to the next giant, the California Tunnel Tree, carved out in 1895 so that you can walk through it. Another mile to Columbia Tree, the tallest tree in the park, at 290 feet. This brought us into the Upper Grove, where we found ourselves basically alone, walking among these giants. We stopped in a clearing, shifting every few minutes to be in the sunshine filtering down through the trees, and ate our picnic lunch.

We found the Galen Clark Tree, the first sequoia that Galen Clark first saw when he discovered the grove in 1857. Walked past the Fallen Wawona Tunnel Tree, perhaps the most famous tree in the world. The 1881 tunnel through it was 10 feet high and 26 feet long, but then it fell over, after all the visitors and cars ruined the shallow root system.

We were at the Northernmost point in the park and there was no one else around. It was our forest. And it was magical. The fallen tree trunks were sculptures of breaching whales and shipwrecks. The exposed, twisting roots of uprooted trees were bigger than our RV. Rotted logs were tunnels to crawl through and emerge from the other side into a different reality. Blackened, burnt logs were bears hiding behind trees waiting to pounce or giant, evil ravens on the lookout from above.

As we followed the outer loop, we found the Telescope Tree, the Clothespin Tree and finally, the Faithful Couple. The Faithful Couple is two sequoias that have grafted together to produce a combined trunk over 40 feet in diameter and a height of over 250 feet. Two, became one.

Just like Yosemite Valley, we didn't want to leave the Mariposa Grove. We reluctantly got on the last shuttle back to the RV park. We wanted to stay with the trees as long as possible, so we lit a campfire and cooked hotdogs and baked beans. We drank Paso Robles wines until the hotdogs charred and turned crispy. Best hotdogs ever! We stared at the stars and the moon until our fingers and toes started to get cold and then, with a sigh, crawled into bed, to continue the dream of the magic forest.

Yosemite Valley - God's Cathedral

Neither words nor photos can adequately describe the majesty of Yosemite. Of all we have traveled and seen all over the world, Yosemite is a place like no other. It is spectacular. It is magic.

Kyle told us not to miss it. He told us that, when we emerged from the tunnel, into the Valley, our hearts would swell and leap into our throats. Exactly. As the trees fall away into the valley and El Capitan appears, standing guard over everything, with Half Dome waiting patiently in the distance and Bridal Veil Falls pouring out its welcome. . . there are just no words. . .

We didn't have reservations, as is typical of our current alarm clock and calendar free existence. We knew we had to get to the campground as early as possible, but there was Bridal Veil Falls, leaping off of the cliffs to receive us. We parked and walked through the pine trees toward the base of the falls. Before reaching even the first viewpoint, we were enveloped in the spray and mist of the thundering falls, doubled in size from the winter's rapid snowmelt. We got as close as we could and took our blessing from the pure, freezing, mountain waters.

We slowly made our way to the campgrounds, having no choice but to stop at every pullout to look out across the valley from every possible angle. We had to consciously pull our eyes back down to the road, to stay on track to take care of our sleeping arrangements. We figured it was early in the season and they should be able to fit us. The park ranger at the campground laughed, "We've been booked since last year, honey!" With our typical optimism, we drove back towards where we had read a sign that said, 'Campground Reservations'. The park ranger there searched through her database for about fifteen minutes, but was able to book us for one night at the North Pines campground we had just left, and the next night at the Upper Pines campground, right next door. Sweet!

We parked in the middle of the pine trees, next to the river, and hopped aboard the free, clean energy shuttle. Hopped off at Yosemite Falls. Nicole wanted to take the trail to Upper Yosemite (difficulty: easy), but Mary Lou demurred and said she would gladly do the Lower Yosemite trail (difficulty: easy). As we walked, the sound of the rushing water was comforting, a sign that there was fresh drinking water for weary travelers. And the smell, oh, the smell! We were breathing in so deep we were almost hyperventilating. The ever green smell of pine, or was it cedar? It brought nostalgia for our favorite Adirondack balsam forests and pillows, but was also so different. It was intoxicating.

The sun, our clock, was inching toward the tops of the granite cliffs, so we took the outermost walking trail to reach the Ahwahnee Lodge. Remarkably more impressive than the lodge at Grand Canyon, we walked under the exposed redwood beams through the dining room, the smoking rooms, the mural rooms and the patios. The dining patio, with views of the granite cliffs and sparkling waterfalls was full of freshly showered and suited diners, so we walked our wet hiking boots inside to a small table between the bar and the full length windows. As we were waiting for our Bombay Dry martinis to arrive, we watched a scrappy squirrel creep through the open patio doors and scurry back and forth under the dining tables. "I wish we hadn't finished all the complimentary mixed nuts," Mary Lou said. Nicole handed her the placard on the table that stated feeding any wildlife could be punishable with a fine up to $5,000.

As Mary Lou wandered around to take more photos of the lodge, Nicole made friends with some contemporaries at an outside table. Before it got too dark, Nicole walked Mary Lou back to the campground and headed back through the forest to the lodge. Steve and Mike were from Grand Rapids, and they talked about Yosemite and hiking and didn't someone hear that in April and May, on full moon nights, the moonlight would light up Bridalveil Falls in the most magical way. Mike's iPhone was the only one that had reception, and they waited four minutes for the phases of the moon chart to load. It was a full moon that exact night. It was too serendipitous to pass up, and they decided to chill around the campfire until the moon was visible. The campfire was delightful, the conversation was hilarious, the bears were kept at bay by bear proof food cupboards, but. . . the moon never appeared. Checking the next day, the park ranger said it was actually a new moon night. Technical glitch, or slight of hand?

After mountain stream dripped coffee the next morning, Mary Lou and Nicole headed off into the forest again. Nicole wanted to go to Nevada and Vernal Falls (difficulty: difficult), but Mary Lou demurred and they headed instead for Mirror Lake (difficulty: easy). Mary Lou has always had a thing for still, reflective water. With the spring melts flooding many parts of the path, logs and loosely thrown stones were used for bridges. It was two miles to the lake, and then another two miles around it. Mount Watkins was reflected in the still water and we stumbled across a plateau of granite rocks, stacked in precarious towers. Ritual offerings and masterpieces of balance.

Back in the valley, we wandered around the museum and the Ansel Adams gallery. We looked at giant sequoia slices, taller than us, with rings dating back to 323 A.D. We followed an intensified scent of that heavenly forest smell we'd been getting high on, and found a tree labeled, 'Incense Cedar'. We pressed our noses to the tree bark and filled our pockets full of needles. We pulled apart the puzzle piece bark of Ponderosa Pines. We watched the mountain rivers rush by underneath stone bridges.

We spent a lot of time looking up. From the valley floor, your eyes are easily seduced upwards by the reaching pines, over the towering granite cliffs and into the blue ever after. God's Cathedral.

‎"I must return to the mountains—to Yosemite. I am told that the winter storms there will not be easily borne, but I am bewitched, enchanted, and tomorrow I must start for the great temple to listen to the winter songs and sermons preached and sung only there."
- John Muir, 1869.


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If you are going to San Fran Cisco. . .

We put some flowers in our hair, and headed into San Fran. We parked up in Pacifica, right on the ocean. Hopped on a bus, transferred to the BART and disembarked at Embarcadero Station. There was a red bull sponsored, free-style bicycle competition going on in the plaza. We walked through the Ferry Plaza and hopped on the streetcar to ride up and down Fisherman's Wharf. Wandered through Chinatown and had lunch. Went to the streetcar museum to see the actual pulleys and cables that are still running those cars around the city. Felt the burn from walking up and down the hills. Stopped into Grace Cathedral to see the bronze doors that were poured into the same molds Ghilberti used for the famous baptistry at Il Duomo in Florence. The trumpets announced our arrival as we walked up the stairs to the Cathedral and it took us a moment to realize they weren't for us, but for the bride that was exiting the limo behind us. Mary Lou got yelled at for talking pictures of the bride walking down the aisle. Then, off to the Japanese Center to meet with a friend of Nicole's from India.

Rucha Patak was in the city for the U.S. premier of Aamir Bashir's "Harud (Autumn)". Rucha had produced the the movie. Nicole had just missed the Canadian premier before leaving for this trip, but was excited when she realized she would be in San Fran at just the right time for the SF Film Festival showing. We had drinks at the Kabuki Theatre Bar before the 9.30pm show. It was a good thing we met before the movie, because we certainly did not want a drink when we came out. It's an intense movie about the effects of the continuing conflict in Kashmir. India and Pakistan have been been battling it out there, high up in the beautiful Himalayan mountains, for decades. There seems to be no end in sight, and, as always, the ones who are suffering are the people who live there.

Nicole had read a lot about the conflict, and had started some work on the subject, but she had never been there. You can read all you want about anything, but you don't really know it, until you feel it. In Harud, you could feel it. The tension hanging in the air. Guns always at the ready from watchtowers. Checkpoints. Random rollcall line-ups. The anguish of a whole family just trying to keep it together day to day. It was heart-wrenching. We were speechless when we came out from the theater. It's a story that needs to be told, and Rucha and Aamir didn't hold anything back when telling it. Rucha and her friend dropped us back to the BART and we rode to our RV park in silence.

The next morning, we met up with Linda Stone Weiss. Linda was Mary's freshman roommate at Buffalo State. They had not seen each other since 1971. Linda had contacted Mary Lou on Facebook about a year previously and said she was living in Cupertino. We had lunch at Denny's because it was the only place we could park the RV. Mary Lou had a great time visiting with Linda, learning about her career, great husband and two fantastic children. They promised each other not wait another forty years to do it again.

Off to the Golden Gate Bridge. We had to see it while we were here, even if we were running late for our next 'meeting'. We drove round and round in circles trying to get the RV close enough to it, but, it was totally worth it. It is an awesome bridge. Visually, all of San Fran is pretty impressive. From afar, the rectangular neutral colored houses layered up and down the hills create a really trippy sense of perspective, and, walking through the streets, you feel that either the buildings are crooked, or you are. Watching the streetcars ride up and crest over the tops of hills, or disappear around the corner blocks below you, is rather whimsical.

Our scheduled afternoon 'meeting' was with Laurie (Carr), her husband Derek Mims and their two little troubles, Dylan and Evan. At Bobby Carr's birthday party last year, we had warned them that we would drop in when we reached the West Coast. We're not sure they believed it would really happen, but, there we were! It's a good thing we chose a good bottle of wine from our Paso Robles tour (instead of the bargain brands we keep stocked) to gift them, since Derek is a wine consultant and blogger! They opened a bottle of white for us, and we caught up over the rolling, cutting, moulding and squishing of play-doh with the kids. (We had forgotten how good play-doh smells. . . ) During dinner, we were amazed and entertained by the outspoken, slightly naughty, older brother Dylan (who was very proud to share his recent conquering of the potty), and the bashful, but flirtatious Evan. What a treat to share some time with such a beautiful family.

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Central Coast, California

Sorry we haven't posted for a while. Been living in the forests of California. We'll try to catch up. . .



After spending so much energy in the havoc of L.A., we needed some relaxation in the countryside. Paso Robles sounded like just our kind of place. We reached in the evening, but didn't waste any time freshening up and heading out to Vinoteca, a beautiful wine bar in the town center. It was 'local's night' and with a wink, the bartender said she would love to help us pick a few great glasses of wine at the local's discount. A few Pinot Noirs and Syrahs later, the bar manager joined us to suggest his favorite vineyards for our wine tasting tour the next day. We added his favorites to the list of wineries that Kyle had recommended and took his card so we could drop his name for VIP treatment.

First stop in the morning was J. Lohr. Second, Bianchi. We then headed West out Rte 46, to find the smaller, boutique vineyards. After a lengthy, windy drive through very young vineyards, we reached Hearthstone. It was closed. Next on the list: Jada. Closed! Denner. Closed. Apparently, these "off the beaten path" vineyards only open Thurs - Sunday. So, instead of tastings, we made a few calls and learned we could buy our favorite, or highly recommended, wines at Albertson's Save-On. We bought 18 bottles of wine.

We meandered over to the organic farm where they had tastings of local olive oils, notably the buttery oil made from Arbequina olives, but we couldn't get the RV up their twisting dirt driveway. So, we stopped back in to Albertson's to pick up the same olive oil. We had one last tasting at Denati, before we headed back to the Pacific Coast Highway, hoping to catch the sunset on the coast.

The vistas on Rte 46 as it rides to meet Rte 101 are absolutely stunning. As we stopped for a evening snack of Golden Grahams on the cliffs, we could see a giant pyramid rock rising from the ocean in the distance. We would have to backtrack, head back South, but we decided we just had to go see it. Another hour of driving and we were right at the base of the Morro Bay rock. As the sun was setting, we watched sea otters playing in the surf and giant sea squirrels drinking from little pools of fresh water collected in the rocks. We took a long walk on the beach, swinging giant sea kelp, before parking up over the dunes, and fell asleep listening to the surf crash against the rocks.

The next morning, we were up early to get a full day at Hearst Castle. Mary Lou (and Kyle) had visited before, but she was super excited to show Nicole. All she kept talking about was the pools, the pools, wait till you see the pools. We girls have little desire for fame and fortune, but it sure is fun seeing how the other .0002% live. We hung at the back of the tour group and giggled the whole time about who we would invite up to our "Little Ranch", and all the naughty things we would do up there. Mom always loves to see the Siena Contrada flags, since she lived under one for a while, and partook in Il Palio. And the pools, oh, the pools. . .

I have no idea how we found out, maybe a little birdie told us, that Rte 1, North of Hearst Castle, might be closed. So, we checked, and sure enough, it was closed due to a landslide from when the Japanese Tsunami hit the West Coast. We had to backtrack South, cut back over to Paso Robles and then head North on 101 to Monterrey Bay. Before the sunset we had time to backtrack South on Rte 1 to Big Sur. Around each and every bend in the road is another awe inspiring vista of mountain, beach, and sea. . .

At one particular viewpoint, just North of Big Sur, we stopped to take photos of the waves crashing mightily against the craggy rocks. As Mary Lou was setting up her shot, Nicole realized that there were some fat, blubbery things draped all over the rocks. Elephant Seals? She pulled out the binoculars, and sure enough, some twenty elephant seals flopped all about. Mary Lou asked, "What is the commotion over there?"
Nicole shifted the binoculars. "There is a big sea gull that seems to be chasing after a little seal. Oh, wait. . . he seems to be following the big elephant seal, and she is pissed. Oh! Wait, I think. . .I think that elephant seal has just given birth to that little one! Like, just right now! The sea gull is after the mother's after birth! I can see it still hanging out! Ew!"

So that we could see and enjoy more aquatic animal life, we stopped over in Monterrey Bay. They don't allow RV's on the 17 mile drive around Pebble Beach, but, we did pony up the dollars to go see the Monterrey Bay Aquarium. Good show. Our favorites were the glass dome ceiling full of nonstop circling sardines and the sea horse exhibit. We must have stood for half an hour watching the sea dragons and the leafy-kelp-looking sea horses. What all creatures this planet has. . .


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L.A. - Lancaster - L.A.

We pulled anchor from Malibu, decided not to ride the silly buses again, and drove through Beverly Hills to get to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. We were going especially to see the Heeramaneck Collection.

"Nasli and Alice Heeramaneck were considered by art dealers, collectors, scholars, and curators to have owned one of the finest private collections of South Asian and Himalayan art in the world. The purchase by LACMA of 345 masterpieces from their collection, in 1969, was thus a great coup for the institution. This initial purchase was followed over the years by numerous additional Heeramaneck acquisitions. Today, LACMA holds more than 2500 works of art formerly in the couple’s possession. These range far beyond the South Asian subcontinent and include ancient West Asian ceramics and metalwares; Persian paintings, calligraphies, and decorative objects; Chinese and Korean ceramics and porcelains; and Mesoamerican ceramic vessels and sculptures, among other things."

In India, Nicole had befriended a Heeramaneck family member, who regaled her with stories of the family's collection. The first thing we did when we reached the museum was visit the administrative offices, to get some information about how to locate the pieces. Mr. Robert Brown, Curator of Asian Art, came down to meet us and inform us, regrettably, that the Heermaneck collection had just been dismantled the previous week! They were sending it all to Mexico for a big exhibition. . .

Mr. Brown could sense our disappointment, so he invited us into the closed gallery to see the few pieces remained, waiting to be packed. He apologized, and told us the collection was indeed, one of the most impressive collections of Southeast Asian Art in the country, and he was sorry we couldn't see it. He invited us into the curatorial offices (full of shelves holding boxes, fragments of sculptures, tagged and rolled paintings, books on everything related to Southeast Asian culture - much to Nicole's delight) to meet all the associate and assistant curators. They were very interested in Nicole's work in India, and told her that they would be happy to help her network with museum connections on the East Coast.

We did find some beautiful Heeramaneck pieces in the Islamic Art gallery, before we made our way to the Contemporary gallery. Specifically, the Jeff Koons gallery. All we could really ask ourselves was, "I wonder how much they paid for this stuff."

We had one more art museum to visit the next day, so headed to the nearest RV park up in Lancaster to spend the night. As we checked in, the attendant said, "If you hear any strange noises in the night, don't worry, it's coming from the big cat game reserve up the road." Nicole decided to surprise Mary Lou and go on safari! We drove about a mile up the road, saw the tigers and lions napping in the sunshine (it was Tippi Hedren's ranch) and hopped back in the RV. It wouldn't shift out of park! The engine would turn on, but it just wouldn't shift out of park. We waited three hours for AAA, but the very friendly driver found the problem, a broken cable from the steering to the transmission.

It was closing time at the Ford garage, of course. They told us that we could sleep in the RV if we agreed to be on lock down. They didn't want us to scare the security staff. This sounded familiar to us, so. . . we opened a bottle of red wine and pulled out Trivial Pursuit. It's amazing, after traveling across this country, how much better we've gotten at the People and Places questions!

Well, Ford didn't get the part in the next day, so, we slept overnight in the parking lot again. The next day, the cable was replaced after three RV labour hours, but. . . But! For some reason, the tail lights weren't working. Ford told us we would have to go to an RV specialist across town, because they didn't have the schematics. Resigned, we said our goodbyes, and were already on the road when we realized that not only did we not have tail lights, we had no lights at all. No turn signals. No hazard lights. No brake lights. Mary Lou was anxious and told Nicole to drive, since she didn't have insurance on which to incur any moving violation ticket points.

We slept overnight at the RV garage and had the lights fixed in the morning. It was now Easter weekend and we were happy to have an invitation to Sunday dinner. Facebook had recently connected Mary Lou with a favorite art student, Sarah Lapenna. Sarah is an animator and worked on the movie Happy Feet, the video game Red Dead Redemption, and made a film with her fiance that's winning awards at international film festivals. The Italian food was delicious and the company, Sarah's family, friends, and crazy cats, were delightful. We ate a lot, laughed a lot, and colored Easter eggs.

Next day, more art! We drove into Pasadena and found a parking spot on the hill in front of the Norton Simon Museum. The signs said to turn the car wheels into the curb, and luckily, Mary Lou actually read them and did that. Mary Lou went to the back of the RV to touch up her make-up and Nicole sat at the table to take some notes before meeting another curator. Both of their hearts sank into their stomachs and they cried out in alarm before they even realized what was happening. . . The RV was rolling backwards down the hill! Luckily, with the wheels turned, it hit the curb after only a foot. Mary Lou had left the RV in reverse. Uh huh. Nice one.

Malibu and The Getty

Westward bound, we drove and drove through the Mojave desert, past the highways and byways of Los Angeles, and straight into Malibu. The Pacific Ocean! Our trip was now officially "Coast-to-Coast."

The Malibu RV park was right next to Pepperdine University, winding up into the cliffs, overlooking the ocean. The ocean air was fresh and all the spring flowers were in bloom. We didn't even plug in the RV, we just put on our bathing suits and headed straight for the beach. We dug our toes into the sand, saw the dolphins swim by, and watched the sun set. On the way back up the hill, Nicole told Mary Lou to take a nice long shower and put on her Sunday finest, she was taking her out to dinner.

"Happy Birthday Mary Lou! Must be Nicole's birthday too! Cause we're going to dinner, at Nobu Malibu!" Yay!

Dinner was fantastic. Chef Nobu Matsuhisa's menu was overwhelming, so we let our waiter do most of the ordering. Tiradito, Yellowtail Sashimi with Jalapeno, Black Cod with Miso, Shrimp with Lobster and Spicy Lemon Sauce, Lobster Mini-Tacos, and I can't even remember all the sushi and sashimi. The food was incredible. Absolutely sublime.

We drank blood orange martinis and lemon cucumber martinis. We watched for movie stars. We eavesdropped on conversations. A lot of people were talking about Charlie Sheen, and how his manager must be faring. We were celebratory because of Mary Lou's birthday, the fact that we made it to the West Coast, and because Mary Lou finally learned how to use chopsticks! The waiter stayed and chatted with us for a long time, saying that we were more fun than most of his stuffy clients. And, if you can believe it, Nicole actually picked up the check! A first for the trip. . .

The next day we took a series of buses into L.A. and went to The Getty. It was a beautiful, sunny day, perfect for wandering around the Richard Meier designed campus. When we visit museums, we play this game - whoever can spot the Bouguereau painting first, wins. Because there is always one. And it usually jumps right off the wall. Well, at the Getty, we randomly picked a building and a floor to start on, and the very first painting we saw as we walked into the first gallery, was a Bouguereau. We both won. We also both like to say Westward bound, we drove and drove through the Mojave desert, past the highways and byways of Los Angeles, and straight into Malibu. The Pacific Ocean! Our trip was now officially "Coast-to-Coast."

The Malibu RV park was right next to Pepperdine University, winding up into the cliffs, overlooking the ocean. The ocean air was fresh and all the spring flowers were in bloom. We didn't even plug in the RV, we just put on our bathing suits and headed straight for the beach. We dug our toes into the sand, saw the dolphins swim by, and watched the sun set. On the way back up the hill, Nicole told Mary Lou to take a nice long shower and put on her Sunday finest, she was taking her out to dinner.

"Happy Birthday Mary Lou! Must be Nicole's birthday too! Cause we're going to dinner, at Nobu Malibu!" Yay!

Dinner was fantastic. Chef Nobu Matsuhisa's menu was overwhelming, so we let our waiter do most of the ordering. Tiradito, Yellowtail Sashimi with Jalapeno, Black Cod with Miso, Shrimp with Lobster and Spicy Lemon Sauce, Lobster Mini-Tacos, and I can't even remember all the sushi and sashimi. The food was incredible. Absolutely sublime.

We drank blood orange martinis and lemon cucumber martinis. We watched for movie stars. We eavesdropped on conversations. A lot of people were talking about Charlie Sheen, and how his manager must be faring. We were celebratory because of Mary Lou's birthday, the fact that we made it to the West Coast, and because Mary Lou finally learned how to use chopsticks! The waiter stayed and chatted with us for a long time, saying that we were more fun than most of his stuffy clients. And, if you can believe it, Nicole actually picked up the check! A first for the trip. . .

The next day we took a series of buses into L.A. and went to The Getty. It was a beautiful, sunny day, perfect for wandering around the Richard Meier designed campus. When we visit museums, we play this game - whoever can spot the Bouguereau painting first, wins. Because there is always one. And it usually jumps right off the wall. Well, at the Getty, we randomly picked a building and a floor to start on, and the very first painting we saw as we walked into the first gallery, was a Bouguereau. We both won. We also both like to say Bouguereau.

The collection was amazing, the garden was in bloom. The bus rides back, not so much fun. Even on the way into the city, we were told to get off too early, and ended up walking about a mile on the side of a highway. And, on the way back, the bus driver told us to get on something called the "Blue Bus" and we ended up over in Brentwood, before we realized it was the totally wrong direction. "Isn't this where O.J. Simpson lived?" Mary Lou asked. After three more bus transfers, we finally found our way back to the RV. L.A. is not very pedestrian friendly.


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