I’m writing this in the semi-dark of a motel in Santa Cruz. Jan is still asleep. I have a cup of coffee in hand and have just worked my way through emails. Yesterday we made our way up the coast from Los Angeles. This drive is arguably the most beautiful in the country. And while I’ve made it a dozen times, it has been many years, and the chance to drive north (the only way to go with those drop offs to crashing waters below for miles and miles) along the left coast, and who knows, as we seem to have cast our fortunes to life in the East, maybe, maybe for the last time; the chance to do this felt irresistible.
We got into Santa Cruz with enough time to walk around the downtown a bit. I don’t know, in some ways it felt a parody of the sixties. My emotions were partially nostalgia and partially, you know, guys, it really is the twenty-first century… Still, I can’t remain too judgemental about the lotus land. After all, this is my natal country, the home of my first four decades (not Santa Cruz, but California…). And I did enjoy the morphing of white kids with dreads to white kids with dreads and tattoos…
I bet it wouldn’t take a lot of time to get used to it…
Too tired for much else, we ate, made our way back to the motel and collapsed early…
Today we will be ignoring our many friends in the greater Bay Area as we drive through (well, maybe a quick stop at Moe’s and Black Oak, but only to peek..). Our plan is to spend the night in Fort Bragg…
So, after I finish this I need to gently awaken my companion. Perhaps I’ll hold a wafting hot cup of one of her favorite traveling teas under her nose. That could do the trick…
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