tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90289758230814808332024-03-13T22:24:27.210-07:00California Surfing SafariFrom August 11 to August 28, 2007, I took a surfing/camping trip down the coast of Southern California, from Santa Cruz to San Diego. This blog is a journal of that trip.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-91103850046468037992007-08-28T11:52:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:46:12.960-08:00EpilogueWell, the trip is history now; It was a fantastic trip.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzo0hBcA3r7579mbo0bAXLgiz6FYoaJ1vi1H2jQQ9dWk4rVkbhLj1yIsEAQp662mG0GuIoxAu02Qpc_qUswiJ3JAM1nmmEjkUy54zK9dhF5Bwmow99nLthTdlurDg7A9aO6kb8db3sOE/s1600-h/EpiloguePhoto.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzo0hBcA3r7579mbo0bAXLgiz6FYoaJ1vi1H2jQQ9dWk4rVkbhLj1yIsEAQp662mG0GuIoxAu02Qpc_qUswiJ3JAM1nmmEjkUy54zK9dhF5Bwmow99nLthTdlurDg7A9aO6kb8db3sOE/s400/EpiloguePhoto.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103838785313254194" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>One flawed measure of how good a trip was: whether you'd like to do it again. In this case, I don't want to repeat it, at least not for a while. But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it. Perhaps I'm not eager to go again because it was a little too crowded in Southern California for a hermit like me. Or maybe there was too much effort (driving, parking, camping, buying ice, etc) to want it to be a regular occurrence. I've done many trips that were enjoyable, but which I don't want to repeat. Doesn't mean they weren't fun.<br />
<br />
Despite all the nice people I met, and great experiences I had, there are a few minor negative things that unfortunately stick in my mind:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>The family who'd bought a big meal at McDonalds, and when they were done, just threw all the bags and packaging out the car window. </li>
<li>The guy that drove into a campground, parked his truck crookedly by the ranger station so that it occupied three spots, and left it running while he spent 15 minutes talking with the ranger.</li>
<li>The campground partyers that transformed enjoyable camping into just getting through the night.</li>
<li>The parents who would <a href="http://www.mansinnerjourney.com/documents/FatherForgets.pdf">constantly scold their kids</a> for trivial things, when they could be having a wonderful family experience.</li>
</ul>
Luckily, those few experiences were outweighed by the many positive aspects of the safari, including:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Getting together with old friends and new </li>
<li>Sitting comfortably on the board on warm clear water waiting for waves</li>
<li>Getting that happily exhausted feeling after three hours of intense exercise</li>
<li>Lying in the hammock in a sleeping bag reading at night</li>
<li>Editing photos and putting together the blog in an air-conditioned library</li>
</ul>
<br />
So, in any case, that be the end of this blog -- hope you enjoyed it!<br />
<br />
Al<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyfN_Lc-1OnuJ62QImB5Nazrhr0GDWtCunvlKoDnFHMjHBKlyuYeCVTEOXs4e4P0ovHD7pa1lu8WsvV-p5R-o0EKKLnXGrymIk9r7dP8S5fXS7F91DTs8HsgLH95LD4Y_IGW9u1sFoKg/s1600-h/FinalPhoto.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyfN_Lc-1OnuJ62QImB5Nazrhr0GDWtCunvlKoDnFHMjHBKlyuYeCVTEOXs4e4P0ovHD7pa1lu8WsvV-p5R-o0EKKLnXGrymIk9r7dP8S5fXS7F91DTs8HsgLH95LD4Y_IGW9u1sFoKg/s400/FinalPhoto.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103838789608221506" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-71599870840867236282007-08-28T11:05:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:45:56.005-08:00Trip Statistics<span style="font-weight: bold;">Total Miles Traveled: 2,321</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
Equivalent to driving from New York City to Salt Lake City!</div>
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Total Days: 16</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Average Miles per Day: 145</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight Gained: -3.2 pounds</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
That is, I lost 3.2 pounds during the trip.</div>
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Total Trip Cost: $841.74<br /></span> <br />
<table border="1" cellspacing="0" cols="3" frame="void" rules="groups"> <colgroup><col width="100"></col><col width="121"></col><col width="111"></col></colgroup> <tbody>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17" width="100"><b>Category</b></td> <td style="text-align: right;" width="121"><b> Cost</b></td> <td style="text-align: right;" width="111"><b> Cost/Day</b></td> </tr>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17">Camping</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="361.5">$361.50</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="22.59375">$22.59</td> </tr>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17">Gasoline</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="177.13">$177.13</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="11.070625">$11.07</td> </tr>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17">Restaurants</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="94.06">$94.06</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="5.87875">$5.88</td> </tr>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17">Groceries</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="112.27">$112.27</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="7.016875">$7.02</td> </tr>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17">Supplies</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="96.78">$96.78</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="6.04875">$6.05</td> </tr>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17"><b><br /></b></td> <td align="left" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00"><br /></td> <td align="left" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00"><br /></td> </tr>
<tr> <td align="left" height="17"><b>Total Trip Cost</b></td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="841.74">$841.74</td> <td align="right" sdnum="1033;0;[$$-409]#,##0.00;[RED]-[$$-409]#,##0.00" sdval="52.60875">$52.61</td> </tr>
</tbody> </table>
<br />
Normally I would have spent $105 on groceries at home, during a similar period, and $55 on gasoline, so the true trip cost could be considered to be around $682.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-2000516210140059182007-08-26T17:23:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:45:42.627-08:00Day 16 -- Moraga to Home!Sunday, Aug 26, 2007<br />
<br />
I was on the road at 7 AM, and when the 100% blue skies met the northcoast fog bank, I knew I was almost home.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpVaBa2SgjC7BIY7AvrwGhdUSEBVhcD4W-vVmXSWFJXVKI8i1G23AWAPPDyn0Qm5y70S0RzU13_VPQl4pUFlXNd08MBBwt56kuAWxSeIYdhcjb5PDhrNYPoBy9GNYXMZOjIG-noZcA_8/s1600-h/05FogBank.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpVaBa2SgjC7BIY7AvrwGhdUSEBVhcD4W-vVmXSWFJXVKI8i1G23AWAPPDyn0Qm5y70S0RzU13_VPQl4pUFlXNd08MBBwt56kuAWxSeIYdhcjb5PDhrNYPoBy9GNYXMZOjIG-noZcA_8/s400/05FogBank.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103170449747290882" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
At 1 PM I pulled into our garage for the end of a perfect surfing safari.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for trip stats (distance, cost, etc.) and a profound and introspective epilogue.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-75410692167850665272007-08-26T16:36:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:45:25.583-08:00Day 15 -- Santee to MoragaSaturday, Aug 25, 2007<br />
<br />
Because it's a little warm in the desert, I left the door to the tent open. Picture Alfred Hitchcok's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Birds</span>. That's what the ceiling of the tent looked like when I woke up, but with mosquitoes instead of birds. No bites, though.<br />
<br />
5:30 AM, with a big day ahead of me, so it was time to brush my teeth, take down the tent, and be on my way.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_v81wibx2cpGGs3AmuPaD9Bp4LlBF5C4lUuAvO_YpXNPtThCGj71nYUy7bo9Ysq5l1DUPPU8U_PI7n35Mjwf1H_z60eH5MhrpvUiSns0Ya0kprRBRpcXOv9esjTwE5gLPZbzueLMk2lE/s1600-h/01BrushingTeeth.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_v81wibx2cpGGs3AmuPaD9Bp4LlBF5C4lUuAvO_YpXNPtThCGj71nYUy7bo9Ysq5l1DUPPU8U_PI7n35Mjwf1H_z60eH5MhrpvUiSns0Ya0kprRBRpcXOv9esjTwE5gLPZbzueLMk2lE/s400/01BrushingTeeth.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103216156789254930" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSDQOyILKfEidtz2Pefvxk_7P9I7LcC6BTI9nIWl9QCXUdO-0CKTj1wm19byNJcCF84paI_qHS5C2Yl3KklzbYTwQDSIzTUogvilMg3mCXOx_aOHfJKAVTMjk6ksg4NbRhHrvbdRCpSQg/s1600-h/02TakingDownTent.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSDQOyILKfEidtz2Pefvxk_7P9I7LcC6BTI9nIWl9QCXUdO-0CKTj1wm19byNJcCF84paI_qHS5C2Yl3KklzbYTwQDSIzTUogvilMg3mCXOx_aOHfJKAVTMjk6ksg4NbRhHrvbdRCpSQg/s400/02TakingDownTent.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103216161084222242" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I caught an interesting sunrise on the way to Highway 5:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4MZM-rEPrJsLUQ-zDkyWKwqKZNZHL6fRoqHqdS6uqrzOU9JSpsDuIOPPS8WA3ZSk_AgQZl9el55BmULVGv1r2HHVCRWbRnHzvCu3lDr-sRwEPkPjDpDNhTUQeLcZYhpZySo_iioBLoy8/s1600-h/03Sunrise.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4MZM-rEPrJsLUQ-zDkyWKwqKZNZHL6fRoqHqdS6uqrzOU9JSpsDuIOPPS8WA3ZSk_AgQZl9el55BmULVGv1r2HHVCRWbRnHzvCu3lDr-sRwEPkPjDpDNhTUQeLcZYhpZySo_iioBLoy8/s400/03Sunrise.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103161950007012066" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I didn't hit any traffic in LA -- this time it really was due mostly to planning (passing through on Saturday instead of Friday). But I saw two 10-mile traffic jams going in the other direction.<br />
<br />
Once through the "grapevine" (the name for the route through the mountains north of LA)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.caltrans.ca.gov/dist07/Publications/Inside7/artimg/042007/99grapevine_1960.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.caltrans.ca.gov/dist07/Publications/Inside7/artimg/042007/99grapevine_1960.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
highway five turns into a straight-arrow jet stream heading north at 70 MPH. The nice thing about not drinking caffeine much is that when you need to stay awake, a cup of coffee really does the trick. A slice of Butterfingers cream pie doesn't hurt either.<br />
<br />
I had five George Carlin CDs to keep me entertained, and I made good progress. Here's a rest stop next to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_Aqueduct">California Aqueduct</a>. Note the strips of towel tied on to keep the rack straps from buzzing at high speed.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2LgVWA9t3VitRa8KSkTePBkxbuixmBVeD0_WeNRdWQvmbINOvdUEyO_dgQ6Y_WGHxXkoGXfLb5MQOUEksCprOhTM54bgEbFwmSziTOIxNcJ5K7zcb6E0NPHlrvAcxx_ceiH8iOjdsns/s1600-h/04HiFive.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2LgVWA9t3VitRa8KSkTePBkxbuixmBVeD0_WeNRdWQvmbINOvdUEyO_dgQ6Y_WGHxXkoGXfLb5MQOUEksCprOhTM54bgEbFwmSziTOIxNcJ5K7zcb6E0NPHlrvAcxx_ceiH8iOjdsns/s400/04HiFive.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103165239951960818" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
The temperature here was 103 degrees, but with the A/C (which had fixed itself and could now be turned on or off), it was a pleasant drive. In fact, I considered pushing on all the way to home, but wanted to stop and visit with friends Tom, Berit, Sam, and Sven in Moraga.<br />
<br />
I arrived there at 5 PM, and Tom and I collaborated on a dinner of butternut squash, corn, homemade applesauce, and spaghetti with a garlic, carrot, celery, heirloom tomatoes, cucumbers, Parmesan, and onions sauce. All accompanied with a delicious bottle of J Lohr 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon.<br />
<br />
One more day to go.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-42176839446327572022007-08-26T14:14:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:45:11.155-08:00Day 14, Part B -- Lost!Fri, Aug 24, 2007<br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">I vow that from now on, I will never try to find something in a large and unknown city without first purchasing a detailed road map for that city.</span><br />
<br />
My mom had lived in a house near El Cajon between about 1975 and 1987. I decided it might be fun to find it and take a few pictures.<br />
<br />
This house was out in the desert mountains off by itself. I called my 91-year-old mom but she couldn't remember exactly how to get there. I'd visited a few times, and remembered that it was on a dirt road off of either Dehesa Rd. or Harbison Canyon Rd.<br />
<br />
I mapquested Dehesa before the library closed at 5 PM, but I didn't have paper and pencil with me (and I didn't want to leave the computer to go get some in the car). So I memorized the route that I'd take. Here is the mapquest map I worked with in the library (click it to be able to see the street names):<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7h3MyFMuruisrO9zDs-RcQx7-KzVXUZhEuADahQonOhLHH_EM30_kRWbTvOSTWrT6by9jtcLf7AWr4cTxjmOyTc_CG94PbnG1GlhyYO7JdPuzjf4MxPdlkv0m6JE7SHGKfN21eS1Xge0/s1600-h/03Map01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7h3MyFMuruisrO9zDs-RcQx7-KzVXUZhEuADahQonOhLHH_EM30_kRWbTvOSTWrT6by9jtcLf7AWr4cTxjmOyTc_CG94PbnG1GlhyYO7JdPuzjf4MxPdlkv0m6JE7SHGKfN21eS1Xge0/s400/03Map01.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103125069122841138" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>So, you can see that all that I had to do was find Main street, drive east to Jamacha (pronounced "Hamasha"), and turn left on Dehesa. Piece of cake, right? Wrong. I now know why. Take a look at what the map would have looked like had I zoomed in a little more:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SgbsSsHdzEHubUttSugnmqLBdfHd7PsEwQ5GAvEqQxtGkSVYqIwyR3hbn6LRDHHqvrT-DRH4SzKnvCSDKDmAlQ90qswLm0cWki2Tg3KcYuMwvVdxPvdsgLcqv2vMxfhBSd5xQIzwFvc/s1600-h/04Map02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SgbsSsHdzEHubUttSugnmqLBdfHd7PsEwQ5GAvEqQxtGkSVYqIwyR3hbn6LRDHHqvrT-DRH4SzKnvCSDKDmAlQ90qswLm0cWki2Tg3KcYuMwvVdxPvdsgLcqv2vMxfhBSd5xQIzwFvc/s400/04Map02.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103125073417808450" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>You can now see that Dehesa Road doesn't intersect Jamacha. Instead it <span style="font-weight: bold;">turns into E. Washington Ave</span> which intersects Jamacha. That is, the planners of the streets in El Cajon decided to give two names to the same street. Great idea, assholes! I've seen this in many cities. Is it really so hard for planners to realize that giving two ends of a street two different names will cause problems for hundreds of people?<br />
<br />
So, not knowing this, I got to Jamacha, but failed to find Dehesa. I drove a mile or two, then backtracked, waiting in traffic for long traffic lights [longest traffic light of the trip, 4.5 minutes in Malibu], and dealing with NUTS (see earlier posts). Same thing in the other direction.<br />
<br />
So I moved to the plan of last resort: asking for directions. This involves stopping at a gas station or convenience store. Note that people who are good at giving directions, and have a good mind for streets and locations generally don't work at gas stations and convenience stores. This does not stop them from sounding extremely confident.<br />
<br />
The hit rate for finding someone who gives clear and accurate directions is about one in five. To give you an idea, at a gas station in El Cajon, the man behind the counter came out onto the street with me. He pointed to a traffic light. "You see that light? That's Bradley street. Turn right there, and go all the way to the airport. No, left." So I get back in the car, and go to that traffic light, and it is not Bradley street. Neither is the next street. Should I turn anyway or find Bradley? It didn't matter anyway because I couldn't remember whether he'd said "left" or "right."<br />
<br />
You say to me, "Hey, Al, you're on a trip, you're retired, you'll find it eventually. What's the big deal?" But there's another aspect to this: the gate for the campground (in Santee, another town) gets closed at 9:00 PM. If I don't get back by then, I'll have to hike in, grab the tent, and find a hotel, or pack in my sleeping bag and thermarest, and leave the car on some dark, deserted road.<br />
<br />
After asking for directions three times, I decide to buy a map, but am unable to find one. Finally, someone gives me good directions, and I find Dehesa. There are some more twists and turns that I won't bore you with, and at 6:30 I give myself a time limit. If I don't find the house by 7 PM, I'll give up and head back to the campground.<br />
<br />
I finally locate the road on which the house was located -- now paved. But there are so many new houses, I can't find my mom's house. None of the houses looks like hers. I go to a likely prospect and take a few photos. At 6:57, on my way down that house's driveway, I see a man working in his yard. I stop and tell him what I'm looking for. "What's your mom's name," he asks, and when I tell him, he says "This is it. This is the house!"<br />
<br />
This house was a prefab. My mom moved it into place in two pieces. Wondering why I didn't recognize it? Here's the house in approximately 1975:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGCrKGitGaGNt2LB7OQk25o706FxbBVmq5-gc-CvD_vuC-eTm_u65obV0oAYvDwknI6l2kJYeNAV-P0QAYvPiX_CfTnlYTLQbFQHH-xDV1ExXs-BS3i1aGBCtQCdRJaqIrBVmhl6CXD4/s1600-h/05-1975ElCajon.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGCrKGitGaGNt2LB7OQk25o706FxbBVmq5-gc-CvD_vuC-eTm_u65obV0oAYvDwknI6l2kJYeNAV-P0QAYvPiX_CfTnlYTLQbFQHH-xDV1ExXs-BS3i1aGBCtQCdRJaqIrBVmhl6CXD4/s400/05-1975ElCajon.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103134200223312466" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
and here it is today, taken from almost the same angle:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL5tMcfUJSoyvZAFDdnMNWzOLgIXjfSCRq6ONbx9bcr-zuDZy7CB1oblR4cFSxC_nUydWNtrV-BUz4EcVFUxrfGmReBLl-EDITkq3KOqDakvXFYwqe-FHLuH9yt9ql1-hBrAmrCZ0xykg/s1600-h/06EndOfHouse.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL5tMcfUJSoyvZAFDdnMNWzOLgIXjfSCRq6ONbx9bcr-zuDZy7CB1oblR4cFSxC_nUydWNtrV-BUz4EcVFUxrfGmReBLl-EDITkq3KOqDakvXFYwqe-FHLuH9yt9ql1-hBrAmrCZ0xykg/s400/06EndOfHouse.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103134204518279778" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Joe, the man who bought it from Mom has, for 20 years, been busy adding to it, and making <span style="font-style: italic;">major </span>changes to the landscaping. He hopes to be all done in a year or two.<br />
<br />
Here's another series to show you the change in the view, 1975 versus 2007 (I realize this may be a little boring to most of you -- sorry). Those pointy trees in the background helped me find the general location of the house.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIukgCXVc15tXVHYWRlbicaJkKik5DU6hBlcFNhkhhiBfVg8WqABw-Ymlfz95GTg2Ks0v534tjDe0KEuc9DGReM6HW5miuIhGcc65Q2WgkSdHP04rJ0WDiyt6Yft3hSvLxbALnbtHJWx4/s1600-h/07OldView.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIukgCXVc15tXVHYWRlbicaJkKik5DU6hBlcFNhkhhiBfVg8WqABw-Ymlfz95GTg2Ks0v534tjDe0KEuc9DGReM6HW5miuIhGcc65Q2WgkSdHP04rJ0WDiyt6Yft3hSvLxbALnbtHJWx4/s400/07OldView.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103136717074147954" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfCxTRHfZEkUreYpe-Va6zFjCocwlMBQhyB8oZcM2DBulaXdcl27JWEgTxDNb9j4sgBi4cK0oe6BKthxXiIVB_QuCH2E2SqUs_FjmS4z01QKTXfCEed3ONAj1mom_suh8P4YLln-wbus/s1600-h/08NewView.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfCxTRHfZEkUreYpe-Va6zFjCocwlMBQhyB8oZcM2DBulaXdcl27JWEgTxDNb9j4sgBi4cK0oe6BKthxXiIVB_QuCH2E2SqUs_FjmS4z01QKTXfCEed3ONAj1mom_suh8P4YLln-wbus/s400/08NewView.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103136721369115266" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
The changes in the "inside" of the house are more dramatic. I put "inside" in quotes, since the walls have changed such that some things that used to be <span style="font-style: italic;">outside </span>are now <span style="font-style: italic;">inside</span>. Again, 1975 versus 2007:<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOuR-t_CMaPM7ay8cf-mRxFdW6u49X89biqUPj4nwDemzdMEqgYFf8HpWvlg05Cb2wWNJpARJckFzOWQFP0jmi9wdMg3ZBA2foTfzswna3LZBkVeB6EjT6CygQDsyo5BOdY_OF-sNBtuI/s1600-h/09OldInside.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOuR-t_CMaPM7ay8cf-mRxFdW6u49X89biqUPj4nwDemzdMEqgYFf8HpWvlg05Cb2wWNJpARJckFzOWQFP0jmi9wdMg3ZBA2foTfzswna3LZBkVeB6EjT6CygQDsyo5BOdY_OF-sNBtuI/s400/09OldInside.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103138705644006034" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnm8S9u6qbiYwVFNmdZfNjDdcqsYcFFFtkmYMeOqNuAs1zk_6uc1vzHw5O4QBRCLLItjoG_AMN_TzlBCIhT1zXo31OjzIeiOUzDsnJ4YMn5Te2c2RkooTv49CP02NFKV0UPEIVocivuWU/s1600-h/10NewInside.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnm8S9u6qbiYwVFNmdZfNjDdcqsYcFFFtkmYMeOqNuAs1zk_6uc1vzHw5O4QBRCLLItjoG_AMN_TzlBCIhT1zXo31OjzIeiOUzDsnJ4YMn5Te2c2RkooTv49CP02NFKV0UPEIVocivuWU/s400/10NewInside.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103138705644006050" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Here's a picture of Joe and his lovely wife.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNv-ZnwRV54tCNADytv7FENnphsbKyZI_Yp1X6UzI2S22xHWtKxKmZUlHM0eTkVHm4Owa9p2qjZR8TcQetQZWh3mdkaCNnYkvnNd-KZfYpL-7oGZ94fbsDsr_8R4QPEk3Os6YFbqaYHbg/s1600-h/11JoeAndWife.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNv-ZnwRV54tCNADytv7FENnphsbKyZI_Yp1X6UzI2S22xHWtKxKmZUlHM0eTkVHm4Owa9p2qjZR8TcQetQZWh3mdkaCNnYkvnNd-KZfYpL-7oGZ94fbsDsr_8R4QPEk3Os6YFbqaYHbg/s400/11JoeAndWife.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103139448673348274" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
He invited me to stay for a drink, and I would have enjoyed that, but there was the matter of the campground gate, and I'd already stayed longer than I should have. So after a few more pictures, I headed "home."<br />
<br />
I now had to find my way to the campground in an hour and a half. When I got to downtown El Cajon, it was dark and poorly lit. My sense of direction had completely abandoned me. I criss-crossed the city, stopping for directions five times. Since seconds counted, I'd have to make a snap decision as to which person at the convenience store (not the one behind the counter) would give the best directions. One stop was necessary because the road "Woodside" turned into "Mission Trails." Same problem again. Hell on wheels, huh?<br />
<br />
Believe it or not, the breakthrough came with a scholarly-looking toothless gentleman on a bicycle, and I finally got back to the gate with 35 minutes to spare.<br />
<br />
Time to unwind and go to sleep. The plan was to wake up early the next morning and drive the 9 hours to the Bay Area. Looking for a good way to induce insomnia? Here's one: tell yourself "If you don't fall asleep <span style="font-style: italic;">right now</span>, you'll fall asleep behind the wheel tomorrow, and crash into a tomato truck."<br />
<br />
Despite that, I fell asleep before too long.<br />
<br />
It helped to have a dry sleeping bag. A few nights earlier, I'd hung the sleeping bag on the line, but because of some weird dew-point phenomenon, it was wet at 8 PM even though the skies were clear. It was somewhere between damp and sopping, and even "wearing" it inside out did not help. I dreamt that I was on a trans-Atlantic solo sea voyage, and a wave had come into the cabin (I made that up).<br />
<br />
<br />
Here's a picture of the El Cajon city planners:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://garfieldridge.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/apes.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://garfieldridge.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/apes.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-63593976344031334222007-08-24T16:39:00.001-07:002014-01-17T11:44:57.617-08:00Day 14 -- San Diego to SanteeFriday, Aug 24, 2007<br />
<br />
I've been weighing the options of staying or leaving. I might have started home today, but that would put me in L.A. rush hour on a Friday, so I decided to surf and camp one more day.<br />
<br />
This is the thirteenth day in a row surfing. That may be a record that, for me, is never broken.<br />
<br />
After a leisurely breakfast of yogurt and toast dipped in hot chocolate, and some shopping for ice, milk and other supplies, I headed back to the same beach for some more surfing. The waves weren't quite as good today, and there was a little territorial vibe from the shortboarders, but it was still nice. A little sad to take that last ride of the trip.<br />
<br />
Time to find a campsite for the night. I wasn't easy at all. Lake Jennings in El Cajon was full up. I decided it was quicker to just drive to another campground rather than wait on hold for the reservation system, but that one (Santee Lakes) was also full, despite having 300 campsites (only 9 of which are allowed to have tents).<br />
<br />
But the third one was the charm (Mission Trails) because this one, despite having only 42 spaces is dry as a desert (actually it is in a desert).<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDLZ2NbQy8aqMYJMHxT-uORZn2e3bnioH2ncGtdwWb0i_TvxHj2e59zGjTqRzGzlq54QLkqLp1Rbj7bGAkL51G8g_hjpM1Pi8VSlTEYDQZaP-el-CSPn_hJeJqLGUGTGw0VdzBlIGZsk/s1600-h/11Dessert.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDLZ2NbQy8aqMYJMHxT-uORZn2e3bnioH2ncGtdwWb0i_TvxHj2e59zGjTqRzGzlq54QLkqLp1Rbj7bGAkL51G8g_hjpM1Pi8VSlTEYDQZaP-el-CSPn_hJeJqLGUGTGw0VdzBlIGZsk/s400/11Dessert.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102418117505919506" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Here's my campsite:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNFKkgjJi1v-v7yjmHpD5JeCuALicURwq-Rev74sEwwQnH_5lmYITbSrr3NAyqNi_D1Vmer3hdwAoJhTNjXXFtRaT9buXy4imTDDXEaWhyphenhyphenenDxaxv-qi4loYl-B6Qwm7uBzcTLW6PnxA/s1600-h/12Site.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNFKkgjJi1v-v7yjmHpD5JeCuALicURwq-Rev74sEwwQnH_5lmYITbSrr3NAyqNi_D1Vmer3hdwAoJhTNjXXFtRaT9buXy4imTDDXEaWhyphenhyphenenDxaxv-qi4loYl-B6Qwm7uBzcTLW6PnxA/s400/12Site.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102418126095854114" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>It may look desolate to you, but when you've been driving around for hours trying to find an available campsite, it looks like a dream spot.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-58153968711104273152007-08-24T15:28:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:44:42.754-08:00Day 13 -- Oceanside to San DiegoThurs, Aug 23, 2007<br />
<br />
My Internet buddy had recommended waking up at 4:30 to beat the traffic into San Diego, but I slept in until 5:30, broke camp and was off by 5:40. I found that I could get a single breakfast burrito at McDonald's for only $1. The place was actually closed, but they'd forgotten to lock the door, so they let me have my breakfast.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbXO_aiA0L2r5xnWbSgqdP0AmNXJsNKd2IiPa5RVF9DWjFOAVvvaF89yKeX2zGaMU8scASQFxUou1P7lSiPaIX25xCp7P1cfoXCcdxi_IPfl2ORinALAcPwrOWmcq5TmZW3TMFdsdE4o/s1600-h/01McDonalds.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbXO_aiA0L2r5xnWbSgqdP0AmNXJsNKd2IiPa5RVF9DWjFOAVvvaF89yKeX2zGaMU8scASQFxUou1P7lSiPaIX25xCp7P1cfoXCcdxi_IPfl2ORinALAcPwrOWmcq5TmZW3TMFdsdE4o/s400/01McDonalds.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102399481642821938" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Traffic on Hi-5 was actually not that bad, but I turned off to check out the surf on the way.<br />
<br />
This was the point in the trip where the car and I started to wear out. The A/C in the car broke, but luckily it broke so that it was always on -- that won't need fixing til I get back home. On my side, my shoulder was sore, my ankle was sore, my feet had lots of cuts. I'd see places to surf, but it just seemed too cold and too far to walk, so I kept driving. For example, the waves looked pretty good at Cardiff-by-the Sea. But Al-by-the-highway would have had to walk down a big set of stairs to become Al-in-the-Sea.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCvPMIh2Z8SWQBMk4bCWlpCO9ZITQrdVt4HPpFnOXK7AFa20okiHnSBHpFB7xNcthwawHd4V3-3Vf8PjmIhv8LJz1kvNX0mWvBCLJRdwOgx_phy7qMUV8helsVHlcFUq_NeTqYRD8dXG0/s1600-h/03Cardiff.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCvPMIh2Z8SWQBMk4bCWlpCO9ZITQrdVt4HPpFnOXK7AFa20okiHnSBHpFB7xNcthwawHd4V3-3Vf8PjmIhv8LJz1kvNX0mWvBCLJRdwOgx_phy7qMUV8helsVHlcFUq_NeTqYRD8dXG0/s400/03Cardiff.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102405451647363474" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxJorayHHvJhXLNHchOrh4OQrY8YyP3l0FQ1q5uMUn0wWFSnR5x8WbRuc04ZgTC_ecPoZjnautgBrQSkHYFKjVrW7tyhscH-Or1O2mgQ2xiGpSO3YohlCjrVxjRKWh4HsZDImEdAEC8Y/s1600-h/04CardiffWave.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxJorayHHvJhXLNHchOrh4OQrY8YyP3l0FQ1q5uMUn0wWFSnR5x8WbRuc04ZgTC_ecPoZjnautgBrQSkHYFKjVrW7tyhscH-Or1O2mgQ2xiGpSO3YohlCjrVxjRKWh4HsZDImEdAEC8Y/s400/04CardiffWave.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102405455942330786" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Another driving problem was buzzing. The soft rack that I have is great, and it's been well-behaved so far. But on this day it started buzzing. That is, the wind makes some strap vibrate against the roof -- loudly. When it happens it's as loud as a trombone in your ear.<br />
<br />
Usually, when this happens I just stop and twist some straps, and it stops. This time I just couldn't locate the source of the problem. I made more than 20 stops (not making this up) trying to fix it. That is, find someplace to stop, twist strap or tie towel around some part of the rack, then start again. It wouldn't happen until 50 MPH, so there was no way to test without driving. Finally a combination of ripped up towel, moving the board, and putting some part of the rack upside down did the trick.<br />
<br />
This was a day on which I had no camping reservations, so I also checked out campgrounds.<br />
<br />
Here's the line that formed at 6:30 AM for finding out whether there were any sites at St. Elijo state park. Even though the site was fully reserved, these people were waiting until8 AM to see if there was anything available. I decided not to wait.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUUI14cSI6QFR2pL0znmoYh7JC5HnwRKrbdFQF5fbG3LuU5d-NQluupVCRGf4tBsEX7h5Z7D0zVsq5MjLlcvB2WqetR-R2fEIaCSD4YK2tdKn98GPQ-m82CAH2PZMunnrHh97_Mn35uo/s1600-h/02WaitingInLine.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUUI14cSI6QFR2pL0znmoYh7JC5HnwRKrbdFQF5fbG3LuU5d-NQluupVCRGf4tBsEX7h5Z7D0zVsq5MjLlcvB2WqetR-R2fEIaCSD4YK2tdKn98GPQ-m82CAH2PZMunnrHh97_Mn35uo/s400/02WaitingInLine.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102399485937789250" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>So I continued on, and soon arrived at the goal of this entire trip: Mission Beach. It was the goal because this was the beach at which I first surfed. I spent a summer in San Diego in 1970 visiting my sister, and surfed at this beach using my brother-in-law's board.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTtKOypmPUAmuNQMQEkEwTf4KoIp5hZVNwU3M6VpSaSy8V3CV1R33O_d-9KqP4yNrEqDFhyphenhyphen8bCB_EZVdXFRBiG2Y7sqKFKI15kjOj6CnDyK1j6jHTAAF6ariAyUOIVU-7MsPGntc0Fwo/s1600-h/05MissionBeach01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTtKOypmPUAmuNQMQEkEwTf4KoIp5hZVNwU3M6VpSaSy8V3CV1R33O_d-9KqP4yNrEqDFhyphenhyphen8bCB_EZVdXFRBiG2Y7sqKFKI15kjOj6CnDyK1j6jHTAAF6ariAyUOIVU-7MsPGntc0Fwo/s400/05MissionBeach01.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102405035035535730" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpd6g53Re53nrsXiEV1DokvknKrykuR22kZb_tEbUHYAMNhbC-chluUv1LIqRnrLnTwXTJExcn1Oym0OAhX8w7cXY4uQSrDNtaJzGDJzbKa5dEi5GjCze0d4FAxGsh1IVPUDF9SsVqLRs/s1600-h/06MissionBeach02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpd6g53Re53nrsXiEV1DokvknKrykuR22kZb_tEbUHYAMNhbC-chluUv1LIqRnrLnTwXTJExcn1Oym0OAhX8w7cXY4uQSrDNtaJzGDJzbKa5dEi5GjCze0d4FAxGsh1IVPUDF9SsVqLRs/s400/06MissionBeach02.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102406276281084354" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>The sun came out, the water was warm and clear, I got some good rides so all the aches and pains were forgotten. I surfed until I was exhausted, and then got a Subway sandwich and ate it on the beach.<br />
<br />
After lunch: Butterfingers Cream Pie. I recommend a trip to McDonalds (or was it Burger King) to get one of these. Fortunately, they neglected to include this dessert on the chart showing fat and calories.<br />
<br />
I also took a quick trip past my Sister's old house, so, for her benefit, this is what it looks like now:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkfUtGqrw-0YsVzrXo6gpJQ6lhmHAmbKdIBT8QD-8PC43eDTTBjveWN0w8npNJvIf73yMc2RHnouUilmOZ0P4inshr4P8m4ZqTwpyODCwERKldVu3orj01YBZqaS8WLrh21XUg5LM05LQ/s1600-h/07Norzel.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkfUtGqrw-0YsVzrXo6gpJQ6lhmHAmbKdIBT8QD-8PC43eDTTBjveWN0w8npNJvIf73yMc2RHnouUilmOZ0P4inshr4P8m4ZqTwpyODCwERKldVu3orj01YBZqaS8WLrh21XUg5LM05LQ/s400/07Norzel.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102406276281084370" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Next, it was time to find a campsite. I knew that Sweetwater Regional Campground had a few spaces, but I was too cheap to pay the $5 reservation fee, and drove directly there.<br />
<br />
Now mapquest is great when you can print out the map, but I don't have a printer with me. Without going into details, it took a long time to find it, but they had a number of sites available!<br />
<br />
This actually turned out to be the nicest campground on the trip. It was on the edge of a steep hill and shady with a wonderful breeze. Since one's not allowed to tie things to trees, it took a bit of figuring to get my hammock installed.<br />
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<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3OjB7umNh0cMWEiAZc8wskvOo4NhMuKJNOVjHTqs9cFb7-7UV1nAcUCuXAv4m0GHyBzCaRdhPO1rIcrEyMFEndoSTgzcbxIOd721ICg7ExAPZ86zp_LX5ByW_TPMOXtU9fl48rciD434/s1600-h/08Campsite.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3OjB7umNh0cMWEiAZc8wskvOo4NhMuKJNOVjHTqs9cFb7-7UV1nAcUCuXAv4m0GHyBzCaRdhPO1rIcrEyMFEndoSTgzcbxIOd721ICg7ExAPZ86zp_LX5ByW_TPMOXtU9fl48rciD434/s400/08Campsite.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102409815334136290" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Here's the view from my site.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc0D_dhYLFDaem53TYRCCPTaq3CyKswcZtrRuE5UUpU6JfMQBJe4pvYHyXXjlp7ruACwXzPnuqLUHXHmUKq5sh84Qvtmk0AmJTDbkHi2POQ37Cy1Pj-EOmLMrfcUrS1hku7qjXHM-gvE/s1600-h/09CampsiteView.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc0D_dhYLFDaem53TYRCCPTaq3CyKswcZtrRuE5UUpU6JfMQBJe4pvYHyXXjlp7ruACwXzPnuqLUHXHmUKq5sh84Qvtmk0AmJTDbkHi2POQ37Cy1Pj-EOmLMrfcUrS1hku7qjXHM-gvE/s400/09CampsiteView.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102409819629103602" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>The campground was exceptionally quiet and peaceful. Unfortunately, that will change soon since they are building a new freeway right next to it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVdaskeNQn-S9te_Mo7a_tvk96lTDJOHwIWTLLl62WYbaoZqbxKGplkI5WiA_pUbSGxJW2AzVIhVYe2cWOXLvK_2gElBpptSDnmJ2rYGffkhUr4AmqPkA4MDiCVMB0Mshx8JqvjAahYM/s1600-h/10Freeway.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVdaskeNQn-S9te_Mo7a_tvk96lTDJOHwIWTLLl62WYbaoZqbxKGplkI5WiA_pUbSGxJW2AzVIhVYe2cWOXLvK_2gElBpptSDnmJ2rYGffkhUr4AmqPkA4MDiCVMB0Mshx8JqvjAahYM/s400/10Freeway.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102409823924070914" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I spent some time talking to another lone camper who I will call "Crazy Steve." Crazy Steve was sitting in the cab of his truck which had no fewer than three six packs of Coors on the dashboard. He asked if I wanted an ear of corn and I said "Sure." When it was done boiling, he said "This is how we fix our corn in South Carolina." He opened a brand new tub of margarine, and submerged the half ear of corn into it. He then twisted it around until most of the margarine had melted. It actually didn't taste that different from corn on the cob that only had a little butter on it.<br />
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Steve had a TV plugged into the campsite hookup and sitting on the picnic table bench. But it was so light out that you couldn't really see the picture.<br />
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Crazy Steve was apparently smart, but something was a little off. He had been an architect, and had designed 143 banks around the state of California. He's been getting $1,000/month disability checks from Farmer's Insurance for 20 years for arthritis. Although he does indeed have arthritis, he says that the checks continue because Farmers has so much money and they don't bother to check.<br />
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He stays at campgrounds exclusively, and does house painting during the day.<br />
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Back at my campsite, I read in the sleeping bag in my hammock (it had actually gotten pretty cool) into the night. I've had good luck with books this trip, finding some that I've really enjoyed. So far I've read:<br />
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How to Win Friends and Influence People (Dale Carnegie). This book, originally published in 1936, isn't quite what you'd expect. Highly recommended.<br />
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Cold Paradise, Stuart Woods. Pure entertainment reading, but totally engrossing. You an always count on a satisfying ending with this author.<br />
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L.A. Dead, Stuart Woods. Fun to read this book, since a number of things happened in Malibu and other places I've been on this trip.<br />
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Gone Baby Gone, Dennis Lehane. Leahane is the author who wrote Mystic River. I just started this one last night, and it's great so far.<br />
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One other note about this campsite, to qualify the "peaceful" comment. It is right under the final approach pattern for San Diego airport. I dreamt about airplanes all night long (not making that up) bu slept well.<br />
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So ends Day 13.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-69654200532327352952007-08-24T15:03:00.001-07:002014-01-17T11:44:17.224-08:00Day 12 -- San Onofre to OceansideWed, Aug 22, 2007<br />
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Getting behind in posts again.<br />
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Pretty early start again today, with some morning surfing at San O before continuing on. It was a grey morning, the water was a little choppy, and the waves were meaner. That is, I got beat up a bit paddling out between rides. Plus I forgot sunscreen, so had to paddle in and walk on rocks to rectify that. Really wore myself out. A few "I'm getting too old for this" moments.<br />
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Here's a nice old VW at the parking lot which has changed little since this car was manufactured:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5H-1_hORTjeJIS7eALvtzqCtqabsml9xlRwQQeVu6NSdXJAgMlQhgxFOdyTZ30HGbQ8sNKqvDtGy9FpqHEnNA6ISVcQ2AQTZ-v2X5Uqg_GTeiynAZFN1laqIWt5uECxc3_ff77K7v8ps/s1600-h/01VW.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5H-1_hORTjeJIS7eALvtzqCtqabsml9xlRwQQeVu6NSdXJAgMlQhgxFOdyTZ30HGbQ8sNKqvDtGy9FpqHEnNA6ISVcQ2AQTZ-v2X5Uqg_GTeiynAZFN1laqIWt5uECxc3_ff77K7v8ps/s400/01VW.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102393971199781090" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Got set up at Guajome (pronounced "You my homie") county park. This turned out to be quietest campground on the trip so far.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSz6LNTtiXQTb4mC9MUX00GRGx5CRpE4X8WvXQAYo4mb4zumsBHTGbFcLpMdfzGErj8Vbb_wX_zIfvTd8PdTkqydEmo1J-STLz5eGL91WvpGwOJCU7pWNg7j_AOmn_l5fK-yGclh9eUjc/s1600-h/02Guajome.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSz6LNTtiXQTb4mC9MUX00GRGx5CRpE4X8WvXQAYo4mb4zumsBHTGbFcLpMdfzGErj8Vbb_wX_zIfvTd8PdTkqydEmo1J-STLz5eGL91WvpGwOJCU7pWNg7j_AOmn_l5fK-yGclh9eUjc/s400/02Guajome.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102393984084682994" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>I then headed down to the beach at Oceanside to look around. This is the general feel of the beach.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgua829D2d46X6gZ9RadyzWIYRwtvbpNvLTeaHdySgya2v-yqbTqtBp7Rh0YdHzxRklhn__4iTnQY5-wgXbyMfwd73M6gCy6x14MRxUpCvpTuCqfV1L3jRK7EbCVj0_nBVGXDZCAnv-iq0/s1600-h/03Oceanside.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgua829D2d46X6gZ9RadyzWIYRwtvbpNvLTeaHdySgya2v-yqbTqtBp7Rh0YdHzxRklhn__4iTnQY5-wgXbyMfwd73M6gCy6x14MRxUpCvpTuCqfV1L3jRK7EbCVj0_nBVGXDZCAnv-iq0/s400/03Oceanside.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102395981244475650" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>I checked out the waves, to see if I wanted to surf there in the morning.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQ2Pr0llIPgcgKZCrgTqVgl19Hnix-r9_sQLSZhqZjCkV4Yv4W9Lg5n_RIRaCPrPZ7zUyZXw2xgJyDpe7m9jrXr3S8_kYZmP5uoRlOhHyD6GxrmcS7mshRDRB4eDCZkF0o80Agfo96GY/s1600-h/04OceansideSurfer.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQ2Pr0llIPgcgKZCrgTqVgl19Hnix-r9_sQLSZhqZjCkV4Yv4W9Lg5n_RIRaCPrPZ7zUyZXw2xgJyDpe7m9jrXr3S8_kYZmP5uoRlOhHyD6GxrmcS7mshRDRB4eDCZkF0o80Agfo96GY/s400/04OceansideSurfer.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102395985539442962" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs32Gfqh2pFh4lTi9y7f1Ayl1JWG_FpZqhDUa66Wf9g4VcHuwbdrzwzpqG_xzgf9OGEkxRynxMdogXOrkSJuSu6lADmTjgD7AZp-xFFuSlRbZKp0MQPeiIi5v2iqqC7iZ2XNjBsDU4XMw/s1600-h/05OceansideSurfers.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs32Gfqh2pFh4lTi9y7f1Ayl1JWG_FpZqhDUa66Wf9g4VcHuwbdrzwzpqG_xzgf9OGEkxRynxMdogXOrkSJuSu6lADmTjgD7AZp-xFFuSlRbZKp0MQPeiIi5v2iqqC7iZ2XNjBsDU4XMw/s400/05OceansideSurfers.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102395985539442978" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Then at five, I drove to the house of another Early Retirement buddy, and we had a beer before setting off for a great dinner. We split a dozen fantastic oysters, and then each had salmon. He had cedar-plank grilled salmon and I had hazelnut-encrusted salmon. Best meal I've had in a long time. We had fun talking, and I would have liked to hang out some more and get drunk, but I had to drive back to the campground and get an early start into San Diego.<br />
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As it was, I got back to the campsite late enough that the gate was locked. What do I do now? But it turned out that there is a back way in just for campers.<br />
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It was quite -- no parties. The only sounds were from the TVs in the RVs.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-60834167682247753142007-08-21T14:59:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:44:00.112-08:00Day 11 -- San OnofreTuesday, Aug 21, 2007<br />
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Ankle recovering well. Time for another sausage and egg meal at 6 AM, then off to the beach.<br />
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Here's the San Onofre parking lot. It extends for about a mile, but on good swell days, people line up <span style="font-weight: bold;">two hours before sunrise </span>in order to get a parking space.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAlJ7t1UdqVeoL6fzrcbVgIko0XPhp_kN-kjDnD1w134jpNd0fw0GbX9rC_7w0zBolcO1s3zm-HVaGWv76Ed4NMH-mbjfXSAgCkusLsas_Nk-3wXJl0nIUTbgN1lfw2nL0WZbO1vuq5sw/s1600-h/01D-SanOParkingLot.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAlJ7t1UdqVeoL6fzrcbVgIko0XPhp_kN-kjDnD1w134jpNd0fw0GbX9rC_7w0zBolcO1s3zm-HVaGWv76Ed4NMH-mbjfXSAgCkusLsas_Nk-3wXJl0nIUTbgN1lfw2nL0WZbO1vuq5sw/s400/01D-SanOParkingLot.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101283305541937154" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
This beach is just north of the San Onofre nuclear power plant, making the water a little warm and kind of tingly.<br />
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<a href="http://www.ocregister.com/newsimages/local/2006/08/18nuke_md.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.ocregister.com/newsimages/local/2006/08/18nuke_md.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.emagazine.com/images/1101feat1b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.emagazine.com/images/1101feat1b.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
Swell is even bigger today, although there are significant lulls in between sets. Perfect conditions, very little wind. This wide shot, taken during a lull between sets) shows you how many surfers are in the water (click it to count them):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpI76M2f93XZv3gXD9wzlBpGxY_52bH2_DDZ__7q2rSE2yj6W36xB2lAwMYglbsZ3JsfWXJ9GMkUuD2pBA2mJyWlsm8oOc4oJehoQDN_olDvW81DjK9DXPHik8E8kW9rOnLcywDKWi4E/s1600-h/02SanOWide.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpI76M2f93XZv3gXD9wzlBpGxY_52bH2_DDZ__7q2rSE2yj6W36xB2lAwMYglbsZ3JsfWXJ9GMkUuD2pBA2mJyWlsm8oOc4oJehoQDN_olDvW81DjK9DXPHik8E8kW9rOnLcywDKWi4E/s400/02SanOWide.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101283309836904466" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Here's a surfer girl (is it OK to say that?) catching a nice ride on a smaller wave:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0UcfcVGEdsGYsjWtzodk1-JrvvPEY7XtNU-Y2nviuSpy1sFyxAe-diaZTXUwXBXKI_t4eifnHYgjrnCZwqsn23g8TB9G2XQLQXl2-l2KHUBsLmDdXNA9TCCUyXxXmEtQdOS6d-DBQxZo/s1600-h/03NiceRideGirl.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0UcfcVGEdsGYsjWtzodk1-JrvvPEY7XtNU-Y2nviuSpy1sFyxAe-diaZTXUwXBXKI_t4eifnHYgjrnCZwqsn23g8TB9G2XQLQXl2-l2KHUBsLmDdXNA9TCCUyXxXmEtQdOS6d-DBQxZo/s400/03NiceRideGirl.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101283318426839074" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>This shows a medium set rolling in. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX88fxmcPn-DMiCNupMosDpadwKyElMxWXq34PoNXui9B2CHrSScCPHq7wLRhyphenhyphencx7dx6n4o_gjbdSzcgkOFSdyOpWVO6Bqw458Zg1sXbRjxGBvgO2RzaJ1tHkqPNvFEMa9pcjSHZNvazk/s1600-h/05Set.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX88fxmcPn-DMiCNupMosDpadwKyElMxWXq34PoNXui9B2CHrSScCPHq7wLRhyphenhyphencx7dx6n4o_gjbdSzcgkOFSdyOpWVO6Bqw458Zg1sXbRjxGBvgO2RzaJ1tHkqPNvFEMa9pcjSHZNvazk/s400/05Set.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101283318426839090" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Use this next shot to gauge the size of the waves. The guy riding is probably about six feet, making the wave 5-6 feet. The next wave coming in is larger. There was one guy who would wait for waves much further out than everyone else. He'd have to wait an hour or more for a wave that was big enough to break out there, but when he caught one, it was a great ride, cheered by all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ2NDSt06LAy70tkvozfjeUKvr83ZUUEUBlDneN1sDiaQY0dpdPunZGOHdmxYseVLVpelT58-nHx3QKS7CNdJXJkDKCgDcuxBPr4lPdgRrB_MjxtCSikP0b-MiLb-WpjeWZfv7rHNJxMM/s1600-h/10WaveGuide.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ2NDSt06LAy70tkvozfjeUKvr83ZUUEUBlDneN1sDiaQY0dpdPunZGOHdmxYseVLVpelT58-nHx3QKS7CNdJXJkDKCgDcuxBPr4lPdgRrB_MjxtCSikP0b-MiLb-WpjeWZfv7rHNJxMM/s400/10WaveGuide.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101283322721806402" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiom-X1q6htiCuJgH4EdpCTlZA-3s1GmaglmIu-ApEdnQgUl6usV2O9M2Qt21sauj2LwUYJUSZ7ElQjEBSK5nbqhKLWHQb3R3QZuD7vKkLI_pWuaZ4LbBs3OHEMIgRCEFd50bgI8QFvbi0/s1600-h/32Multiples.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiom-X1q6htiCuJgH4EdpCTlZA-3s1GmaglmIu-ApEdnQgUl6usV2O9M2Qt21sauj2LwUYJUSZ7ElQjEBSK5nbqhKLWHQb3R3QZuD7vKkLI_pWuaZ4LbBs3OHEMIgRCEFd50bgI8QFvbi0/s400/32Multiples.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101284903269771346" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiop1Dp1abe63Wo813QqOZlB9LfN4oi8vZ0SguWcro3oCE1poB_PjCeTeYdhyphenhyphenAAV4MQ_iLqBW_fnsJfoTHoHdtkOLCCiveAGvc3ybD3-oAVbBhjBiSM8jaj4aeNGq1RYCcSD2FGckJJqcM/s1600-h/40NiceRideGuy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiop1Dp1abe63Wo813QqOZlB9LfN4oi8vZ0SguWcro3oCE1poB_PjCeTeYdhyphenhyphenAAV4MQ_iLqBW_fnsJfoTHoHdtkOLCCiveAGvc3ybD3-oAVbBhjBiSM8jaj4aeNGq1RYCcSD2FGckJJqcM/s400/40NiceRideGuy.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101284907564738658" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUd_XUZ5KQ-F2527gKqm3YOJhONYqyZQHXxxLwOVDDuA0wXEVRm4Gj5-fCdaa1WpDu9MuOnusczrHDYPEqv_XbSsV5wznkXT4LL8wFknG44oPN_EHoV6CjK_y1MQqsWUePpuS0c809Bw/s1600-h/45WideWave.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUd_XUZ5KQ-F2527gKqm3YOJhONYqyZQHXxxLwOVDDuA0wXEVRm4Gj5-fCdaa1WpDu9MuOnusczrHDYPEqv_XbSsV5wznkXT4LL8wFknG44oPN_EHoV6CjK_y1MQqsWUePpuS0c809Bw/s400/45WideWave.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101284911859705970" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJTPxIUfiQg8JFYLNjNeUyuq8e9msDUgZDCME8LzpoY26twFzIjvqkmQRpsLL4MVjRr-JsvodEnQwr5M9yeOcyTN3ZRUa2HfAiFIfGjQihc4MTUukEHMznRPtM2LLinTn7ZlZvqUVpDc/s1600-h/50WhiteShirtRide.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJTPxIUfiQg8JFYLNjNeUyuq8e9msDUgZDCME8LzpoY26twFzIjvqkmQRpsLL4MVjRr-JsvodEnQwr5M9yeOcyTN3ZRUa2HfAiFIfGjQihc4MTUukEHMznRPtM2LLinTn7ZlZvqUVpDc/s400/50WhiteShirtRide.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101284911859705986" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>I surfed for about four hours, then made a PBJ lunch at the car. I violated my rule about never putting things on the roof, because it was either that or the sand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Gzkje0m6mHKuNBxe2rPxjxYbkvuDXopmuy00-7nyu-h9jGmqoppXqcisZ_iY_muzE3OMskWcQfeJd2AU3FA9nf8k3YUO4fWajCRP0lDsEi_Yrm5JHrA0igZlPTw7MH2Zg4fYHcn8caA/s1600-h/60Lunch1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Gzkje0m6mHKuNBxe2rPxjxYbkvuDXopmuy00-7nyu-h9jGmqoppXqcisZ_iY_muzE3OMskWcQfeJd2AU3FA9nf8k3YUO4fWajCRP0lDsEi_Yrm5JHrA0igZlPTw7MH2Zg4fYHcn8caA/s400/60Lunch1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101286054321006738" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>The contents of that box are now strewn along the San Diego Freeway -- ha ha, just kidding. Note the locked Pelican case holding the laptop in the lower right of this next picture.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18MqFHTcTvjTdZjbhZ5UDUt3dA0Wq_Qha1CIPwpW03huhVGrSaW5WTdt-UgD1yr1_xaUvz6RZB5VaUUWWWG5_1sLSxUwBLEAb6s6lBwRBDhsiYpnVTFMbLNkGc3KdJNpgmk_NF_ZcOmU/s1600-h/70Lunch02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18MqFHTcTvjTdZjbhZ5UDUt3dA0Wq_Qha1CIPwpW03huhVGrSaW5WTdt-UgD1yr1_xaUvz6RZB5VaUUWWWG5_1sLSxUwBLEAb6s6lBwRBDhsiYpnVTFMbLNkGc3KdJNpgmk_NF_ZcOmU/s400/70Lunch02.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101286054321006754" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
There's very little shade here, and it's hot, but I'm getting used to it.<br />
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Car was getting pretty dirty at this point in the trip, so I washed it at the self-serve car wash (this is boring, right?).<br />
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Before<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4r-QGGKUCqko_pqWWds_ec4PC-PKhpwZwdi5YOgWtkccPfCe8IyhhBCJWlLK7tsqJTyniu22qdHyuIfdT6O5fy4DKFiMdP4RRK9LgjvIzdyBMT4sT1XspaxR-SPKyORw08R7Qq53oAnA/s1600-h/75DirtyCar.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4r-QGGKUCqko_pqWWds_ec4PC-PKhpwZwdi5YOgWtkccPfCe8IyhhBCJWlLK7tsqJTyniu22qdHyuIfdT6O5fy4DKFiMdP4RRK9LgjvIzdyBMT4sT1XspaxR-SPKyORw08R7Qq53oAnA/s400/75DirtyCar.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101287995646224562" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>After<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2E3oRXGBUyxmRKall0QS3NBMihMyngqxN56GBdezZxmkg2U0jJ8uLjMACKPQzMDuUNwROZppG-WeQjve8_nlVVZ6EDKm6CiJJxQQpH_TdW9WVnTvY6_2Lt3t8DTTn7t1LGErTMvhTuw/s1600-h/76CleanCar.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2E3oRXGBUyxmRKall0QS3NBMihMyngqxN56GBdezZxmkg2U0jJ8uLjMACKPQzMDuUNwROZppG-WeQjve8_nlVVZ6EDKm6CiJJxQQpH_TdW9WVnTvY6_2Lt3t8DTTn7t1LGErTMvhTuw/s400/76CleanCar.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101287999941191874" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Then it was off to the library, where I'm sitting now. Public libraries are <span style="font-style: italic;">the </span>place to go to access the Internet. No need to buy coffee, and they are are quiet, cool, and many have power outlets for laptops at each table.<br />
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Here's where I am now (San Clemente Public Library):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqJbxLIOc9G1fN37cznmiARk2ybmnZ53iQRu1-1AIAiGLc289yf2ppML7yQiy028HaPNQaHNJJSuaR-n2iTPE-uPl5ksoO834gAY1uoAkv7bJWxE_6-KRRvIi2I-nBqRnlTDjZVC6ftc/s1600-h/80Library.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqJbxLIOc9G1fN37cznmiARk2ybmnZ53iQRu1-1AIAiGLc289yf2ppML7yQiy028HaPNQaHNJJSuaR-n2iTPE-uPl5ksoO834gAY1uoAkv7bJWxE_6-KRRvIi2I-nBqRnlTDjZVC6ftc/s400/80Library.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101289799532488914" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I'll hang around here a while, wait for the air to cool off a bit, then head back to the campsite.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-60065644504237522572007-08-21T14:08:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:43:37.315-08:00Day 10 -- San OnofreMonday, Aug 20, 2007<br />
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I had a leisurely breakfast at the campground, drove to the surf beach to check out the waves, then went to the library to update the blog. I'd have surfed in the morning, but I wanted to give my ankle some more time to heal.<br />
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As I mentioned, I'm on this surf safari because my wife is attending a class reunion, of her grade school, in Luleå, Sweden (pronounced Looly-O). She really enjoyed it, and here's a picture of her grade school classmates, all of whom she remembered (arrow shows wife Lena):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJRL3S2qJE9-_WX5GOCOgn0KuTmLrfJLdFMrIU1dfRop4ye5Kn-ZdIdu0zivYb8Tbj3eB1EX38JuZDJwxdZ5i_nW-IBm3OdJUBCLObyXmf_D-5KfKncOffDDWJ9EtGjezoBTUyGYiVfg/s1600-h/001LenasReunion.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJRL3S2qJE9-_WX5GOCOgn0KuTmLrfJLdFMrIU1dfRop4ye5Kn-ZdIdu0zivYb8Tbj3eB1EX38JuZDJwxdZ5i_nW-IBm3OdJUBCLObyXmf_D-5KfKncOffDDWJ9EtGjezoBTUyGYiVfg/s400/001LenasReunion.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101271786439649250" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Looks like maybe they're having too much fun:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2KTQerWicqelzpUId6L4AOFlIi8Ri_TIkqTGDcLl6HjO-rGTsmlHC5NVgo2e6_TN7Mcl5eXiesz8ZK9zhD4pRG27Gr902FbFV_vfRhCBk7s40l99qDjqaceUeZ-KavO43QOtfTHcZBM/s1600-h/002LenaAtReunion.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2KTQerWicqelzpUId6L4AOFlIi8Ri_TIkqTGDcLl6HjO-rGTsmlHC5NVgo2e6_TN7Mcl5eXiesz8ZK9zhD4pRG27Gr902FbFV_vfRhCBk7s40l99qDjqaceUeZ-KavO43QOtfTHcZBM/s400/002LenaAtReunion.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101277945422751730" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
She won the prize for having traveled the greatest distance (total travel time 42 hours).<br />
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Back to me...<br />
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Ankle was fine with surfing. It was less fine with walking, so I did a lot of paddling to avoid walking.<br />
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Finally some bigger waves (see Day 11 for pictures)! The sets of waves only came in every 20-30 minutes or so, but they were nice 5+ foot swells. It's very different from home. In San-O you'll sit there for 20 minutes with no swell at all, and then a set will roll in. It's much more constant up north.<br />
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There are a lot more surfers here -- about 100-200 spread over a wide area -- so frequently, when a good wave comes in there are already three surfers on it. But I got some big rides. I surfed until sunset, with my last ride of the day being the best.<br />
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Here are some pictures of the sunset (click to enlarge):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiutVwyAjbAVlwxI4fADCEyKr1Avp2QfCt050tI1-_WB4NRpokL0gIMkKJbrFpKvsBM23FHKIbxGMsArtd3Do1jLoPvHVg1QlPt2iY9T-Af9CEM_ACAZOn_Igkfdf4E_A0ZhGwRfKGbgG4/s1600-h/01Sunset.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiutVwyAjbAVlwxI4fADCEyKr1Avp2QfCt050tI1-_WB4NRpokL0gIMkKJbrFpKvsBM23FHKIbxGMsArtd3Do1jLoPvHVg1QlPt2iY9T-Af9CEM_ACAZOn_Igkfdf4E_A0ZhGwRfKGbgG4/s400/01Sunset.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101269041955547042" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAeFkTYhSPDqr0Lmw4Q-UMblE9W2gjhcs9A7YtCmpqPTAhy2v7A6fbcOU48ysQPsM5F_NWhouVMGqldrPsQU3V7Tt3h2UzBJk2RvCm4MgwenJQMazNkY-h-2IQ_xsOYC9fRDiEM5sHCuE/s1600-h/02Sunset.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAeFkTYhSPDqr0Lmw4Q-UMblE9W2gjhcs9A7YtCmpqPTAhy2v7A6fbcOU48ysQPsM5F_NWhouVMGqldrPsQU3V7Tt3h2UzBJk2RvCm4MgwenJQMazNkY-h-2IQ_xsOYC9fRDiEM5sHCuE/s400/02Sunset.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101269041955547058" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSD-bBb0MvCWeUq_vKa0alx10kUITwUg3NJuNpELOXu_wpAxd9dzgnfId6h1oWkZgMwEQxEXgsEJODC4DUKxB2izsGYT-XrxFCRS15K_ZSZMJXKmU6aepz-SjYaR1mmuKu0PZNf2ljPE8/s1600-h/03Sunset.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSD-bBb0MvCWeUq_vKa0alx10kUITwUg3NJuNpELOXu_wpAxd9dzgnfId6h1oWkZgMwEQxEXgsEJODC4DUKxB2izsGYT-XrxFCRS15K_ZSZMJXKmU6aepz-SjYaR1mmuKu0PZNf2ljPE8/s400/03Sunset.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101269041955547074" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwF1Vto3FaiOlNIsUqLahqvJQaggUaRqZOvH6OzL_ZgNY8nSxxudjlrxnlKF_PgM3-DDjuHvSN1oIbVtHi7GR9t0fJUNeV6raXscNsDovwLCoa_8VUDyjUVm9rWR4vQmwlT8CXhOoEKg/s1600-h/05Sunset.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwF1Vto3FaiOlNIsUqLahqvJQaggUaRqZOvH6OzL_ZgNY8nSxxudjlrxnlKF_PgM3-DDjuHvSN1oIbVtHi7GR9t0fJUNeV6raXscNsDovwLCoa_8VUDyjUVm9rWR4vQmwlT8CXhOoEKg/s400/05Sunset.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101269488632145874" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Went back to the campsite and had a late, tasty dinner of hot dogs roasted over a wood fire. I'd eat this meal a lot if it weren't bad for you.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Eating</span><br />
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Speaking of eating -- it's a little harder to eat healthful food on a trip like this than when at home. Luckily, with surfing three or more hours a day I don't think I need to worry about calories. But it's hard to find a picnic table, stop, make a tuna fish sandwich, etc. when it's so quick and cheap to buy a Whopper junior for 99 cents.<br />
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The best solution I've found for a cheap, healthful, readily available meal is a Subway Veggie Delite for only $2.89 (price recently reduced). That's my fast food of choice. The sweet onion sauce is recommended. I say "readily available" because every town has at least one Subway.<br />
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Note that the "Less than 6 grams of fat" advertisement refers to a sandwich made with no cheese and no condiments. I tried one this way -- I think it was the first time they'd ever made one -- and it wasn't too boring.<br />
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Got a good night's sleep.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-44178417173638264312007-08-20T13:32:00.001-07:002014-01-17T11:43:15.867-08:00Day 9 -- Malibu to San OnofreSunday, Aug 19, 2007<br />
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I haven't had any injuries on the trip so far, but that was about to change.<br />
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Another early wake-up day. "Ronin," a surfer from the Early Retirement forum, said he might be able to get away and meet me at Bolsa Chica State park at 9 AM. So I had breakfast on the road, just south of Malibu.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwMbx8XhXZAjkUuAxOumEgb0qpj1j2rtvYhIk4_4Ji7KhbLVjl0qB6iEePd1jSlUdxLMVkJuGCID3i1AM-tYKI_qb2Bul_VtS4I8gGicTlX_bVs57OlOW4WmnDBllFfxG2oNeysW3GSM/s1600-h/01BreakfastOnRoad.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwMbx8XhXZAjkUuAxOumEgb0qpj1j2rtvYhIk4_4Ji7KhbLVjl0qB6iEePd1jSlUdxLMVkJuGCID3i1AM-tYKI_qb2Bul_VtS4I8gGicTlX_bVs57OlOW4WmnDBllFfxG2oNeysW3GSM/s400/01BreakfastOnRoad.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100886441973851842" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I've talked about traffic, and today I was riding through the belly of the traffic beast, Los Angeles. But, as careful planning *cough* luck *cough* would have it, it was early on a Sunday morning and I breezed along the LA freeways at the speed limit.<br />
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Note that "at the speed limit" in LA means about 10 MPH slower than everyone else; it makes you feel like a rock in a stream. I made some poor road choices, based on my map of all California, and spent a lot of time on the PCH, which meant traffic lights and lots of them. Quick note: Gas was only $2.69/gal in Long Beach compared with $3.21/gal at home.<br />
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Bolsa Chica beach is three miles wide with tons of parking. I pulled into the rendezvous spot at 8:50, but it turns out Ronin couldn't get away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0QoOr4p59x5We44qAhqT0XN5zNwdmZgFGD3fti1hKs08GJs6C4kiRNhOvNTCHrZ_Lz5-HqGvaPw2cD-L8jLZOoZCbBB8VVFuF0hchbPwvSq1dSwHPro6c4cX8KU9_GGkUPPr9Mdyzbk/s1600-h/04BolsaChica.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0QoOr4p59x5We44qAhqT0XN5zNwdmZgFGD3fti1hKs08GJs6C4kiRNhOvNTCHrZ_Lz5-HqGvaPw2cD-L8jLZOoZCbBB8VVFuF0hchbPwvSq1dSwHPro6c4cX8KU9_GGkUPPr9Mdyzbk/s400/04BolsaChica.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100886450563786482" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>This beach is a lot like the ocean beaches I grew up with on Long Island (e.g. Jones' Beach). The people and their belongings have been supersized, however. They bring tables, canopies, big chairs, and fancy Weber gas grills instead of a beach blanket, umbrella and small charcoal grill.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFP3yrHeVyFAuYNP9AusFHvVjZCmNAaMYGUJkUV9qG1LjG2OjN6k1k5Gj11K1PhbyrjXZjFHd_w-JIFIYpsuwLDzI6CK8NHxuCkdFB14VbPVYgZmKpBx0MfWlhyphenhyphenMWxnxv4vBcYcnep-wo/s1600-h/05BolsaChica.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFP3yrHeVyFAuYNP9AusFHvVjZCmNAaMYGUJkUV9qG1LjG2OjN6k1k5Gj11K1PhbyrjXZjFHd_w-JIFIYpsuwLDzI6CK8NHxuCkdFB14VbPVYgZmKpBx0MfWlhyphenhyphenMWxnxv4vBcYcnep-wo/s400/05BolsaChica.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100886459153721090" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>But most importantly, I finally got some bigger waves! Here's a four-foot wave, and I saw some that I estimated at 5-6 feet.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ujh5BBBCalsBLxplu1gxLJB7ivtXjI3yAaJsszOrrVKetSEJQny0TqiiJhOgYX431SJhB7PnB0cfBPC_ulJWfs8kpqlKPGPM6e43LRXGCn9tyuqbB0RtFLHLMm5d6mV-3E3KIp14lhM/s1600-h/03Surfing01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ujh5BBBCalsBLxplu1gxLJB7ivtXjI3yAaJsszOrrVKetSEJQny0TqiiJhOgYX431SJhB7PnB0cfBPC_ulJWfs8kpqlKPGPM6e43LRXGCn9tyuqbB0RtFLHLMm5d6mV-3E3KIp14lhM/s400/03Surfing01.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100886450563786466" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
There was a path by the parking lot that was used by tons of cyclists, more than one with a small dog in the front basket.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocn5Wu-eIGsoxrcgIC-SuFNP1kQS4j15aCAEHVq29WVTPSpwEHF6UiqE3xPtGDEXHhc0lCqWayMDX2PyVj5u-RL27l71iDEH_up4vLaqnnYRcA4nBCq-JWaVccW0vE5J79PqIEcJgzk4/s1600-h/06BolsaBiking.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocn5Wu-eIGsoxrcgIC-SuFNP1kQS4j15aCAEHVq29WVTPSpwEHF6UiqE3xPtGDEXHhc0lCqWayMDX2PyVj5u-RL27l71iDEH_up4vLaqnnYRcA4nBCq-JWaVccW0vE5J79PqIEcJgzk4/s400/06BolsaBiking.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100889538645272338" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I surfed for a few hours with my wetsuit on, and I was pretty hot. That is, I was warm in the suit. Had some great fast drops, and a few medium length rides.<br />
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I then stopped for a lunch of yogurt and orange soda, and decided to surf another session with no wetsuit. I had to move a few miles down, since there's no mid-day surfing allowed on parts of the beach.<br />
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I went out with just my board shorts on, and it was a great feeling. Much easier to paddle than with a wetsuit. Turns out, and this wasn't really a surprise to me, that I can't reach all the areas of my back when applying sunscreen. I'll have to figure out how to do this in the future. I'm guessing that asking a stranger to do it won't work.<br />
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One characteristic of this beach on this day was the relatively steep shoreline:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9j3gPURfr5VmuEIp3j_n8_S2j0stxp4h_LTNHiMY20MuVg6cPL8TidqEbPfCxHgAI4vw5q-6QbsQUZoZ_1CqeiZhTttZc4gkJSxRnuDPRCaDNQRaAoLyX4CdkVdmzqD2fiGyXiSt86AI/s1600-h/07BolsaShore.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9j3gPURfr5VmuEIp3j_n8_S2j0stxp4h_LTNHiMY20MuVg6cPL8TidqEbPfCxHgAI4vw5q-6QbsQUZoZ_1CqeiZhTttZc4gkJSxRnuDPRCaDNQRaAoLyX4CdkVdmzqD2fiGyXiSt86AI/s400/07BolsaShore.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100889542940239650" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
As a result, the waves would roll up the shore, then back down, creating a wave going out to sea. If you've seen <span style="font-style: italic;">The Endless Summer, </span>you might remember a beach called "in and out" at which you could actually surf the waves moving outward, and when meeting an incoming wave, be popped up into the air. Which brings us to...<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Injury Number One<br /></span>I had just stood up on one of the bigger waves, going down the face, when I hit one of these backwash waves. The result was that I instantly found myself five feet above the board, with my butt higher than my head. I had plenty of time to think, and what I thought was "This is not going to end well." Or to quote George of the Jungle "This going to hurt George real bad."<br />
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But I don't remember what happened when I came down, other than thinking "That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." It's not that I hit my head, it was just a kind of amnesia that happens a lot to me when surfing. I have a big wipeout, and I can't remember how it happened. Like waking up from a dream, and not being able to remember it.<br />
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Anyway, I didn't notice any pain, and I had a good laugh about it with another surfer that saw the whole thing.<br />
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On the very next wave, the same thing happened, but I was thrown up and to the side, so there was no danger of hitting the board. I did a faceplant in the water, however, and it felt like doing a belly flop off the high diving board. At that point I decided "I'm outtahere" and headed to the beach. As I was walking to the car, I heard someone saying "Hey, did you see that guy get pitched up by the wave?"<br />
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It wasn't until a few hours later that I noticed that my ankle was sore and it hurt to bend it. This got worse, until it was hard to walk, and I had a lot of swelling down there. I'm guessing that I either bonked it on the board, or hyperflexed it coming down. It felt like some of the sprained ankles that I've had in the past. In any case, that's why I'm here in the library this morning (day 10) instead of surfing.<br />
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But I've iced it, it's getting better, and I plan to surf at San Onofre this afternoon. But back to day 9...<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Laundry Day</span><br />
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Well I was out of T-shirts, and passing a laundry on the PCH in Dana Point, I zipped in to take care of the washing. This involved mostly waiting around for the washing and drying.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwsuUP6h9U1PMo7m_n6suVeeeLgyr-Eb3TuqAXqP2gublqlJ_ZwifVefTliTfK8VndYib3FZoKGZKgKqxxsriwOURcRhysr52f9FofSlj03FZGaN8zPwmgIkBBYc6pg0Gkn1QeOweMwo/s1600-h/07Laundry.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwsuUP6h9U1PMo7m_n6suVeeeLgyr-Eb3TuqAXqP2gublqlJ_ZwifVefTliTfK8VndYib3FZoKGZKgKqxxsriwOURcRhysr52f9FofSlj03FZGaN8zPwmgIkBBYc6pg0Gkn1QeOweMwo/s400/07Laundry.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100895993981118258" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
An important thing to note in this photo is Bert and Ernie on the fire engine, calling to me. This brings us to...<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Injury Number Two</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9AGtyoX6nFpmZo_aWHBeV72E0bAPp1JwNf9Vm_TIOLEo7Ww6UGjl-W7qbhA_kwf0dgLz6aMQKSHKDrnbD0k6tmjnDqd130t1vJWkMRKZweLqiySX49VymH-xByZygkbrktcz0VGck68/s1600-h/08KiddieRide.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9AGtyoX6nFpmZo_aWHBeV72E0bAPp1JwNf9Vm_TIOLEo7Ww6UGjl-W7qbhA_kwf0dgLz6aMQKSHKDrnbD0k6tmjnDqd130t1vJWkMRKZweLqiySX49VymH-xByZygkbrktcz0VGck68/s400/08KiddieRide.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100895993981118274" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>I know now that "This will make a good picture for the blog" is a dangerous thing to think. It was in getting off this ride that I had a close encounter with the white post that you can see in the bottom of the picture.<br />
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Actually, this injury wasn't so bad, just some blood, but it makes for a good story.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Campsite</span><br />
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Got into the San Onofre State Beach San Mateo campground in late afternoon, and the pre-assigned campsite wasn't bad. It had excellent hammock trees, and a good spot to finish the drying of the laundry.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlTD18bJ2__S6jQ3u9_8yD24jj-aHUcPyP-HcISnxlHtmo75U5Imfs-MV6BeccTbLeVgNZXXCO7IULZr6bIOe4_y0wrpyQ-K3bbHopKeWjxNTioiLivHKu-gaO5R2Bz2JbytCm3Bsy0Y/s1600-h/09Campsite.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlTD18bJ2__S6jQ3u9_8yD24jj-aHUcPyP-HcISnxlHtmo75U5Imfs-MV6BeccTbLeVgNZXXCO7IULZr6bIOe4_y0wrpyQ-K3bbHopKeWjxNTioiLivHKu-gaO5R2Bz2JbytCm3Bsy0Y/s400/09Campsite.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100898523716855634" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKGaqdjzIqrdekigDurDUoRHERPprGkb6fl8zVsgGDv4uro2nGCKaVVAb9SDJtFAGP2nv4j5jlyIAKpE-GZ0LRQ1QOKmlvKqDKGLsRDl02ew8f30epjxnjJi1V2od1-bq321_hmQ_yDqI/s1600-h/10Laundry.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKGaqdjzIqrdekigDurDUoRHERPprGkb6fl8zVsgGDv4uro2nGCKaVVAb9SDJtFAGP2nv4j5jlyIAKpE-GZ0LRQ1QOKmlvKqDKGLsRDl02ew8f30epjxnjJi1V2od1-bq321_hmQ_yDqI/s400/10Laundry.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100898523716855650" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
The partying was tamer here, and I got a good night's sleep.<br />
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Well, it looks like I'm up to date on the blog, thanks to Injury 1. Standby for San Onofre surfing on day 10. BTW I've surfed every coastal day on this trip so far, which means eight surfing days in a row!Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-53178979661411660242007-08-20T11:49:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:42:55.459-08:00Day 8 -- MalibuSaturday, Aug 18, 2007<br />
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Here's a shot of the Malibu pier when I arrived and got a good parking spot at 5:50 AM. Remember to click on these pictures, since they look a lot better at their full size.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-vInjj8RiqUsPFz0M3khJb2Dk8w5wIPskne-ZwwG5Zw9ja4_xicbqsJDKCz4iUe-mKlkQfW7pd52LaD38zW0ExDGZ1q9BBaOE6Jnie2_GL_Va9gigS4sfv0mmgIr_ld4K-uXZWhyphenhyphenPqw/s1600-h/01MalibuPierPreSunrise.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-vInjj8RiqUsPFz0M3khJb2Dk8w5wIPskne-ZwwG5Zw9ja4_xicbqsJDKCz4iUe-mKlkQfW7pd52LaD38zW0ExDGZ1q9BBaOE6Jnie2_GL_Va9gigS4sfv0mmgIr_ld4K-uXZWhyphenhyphenPqw/s400/01MalibuPierPreSunrise.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100857927685973650" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>The contest wasn't scheduled to start until about 10, so I had plenty of time for surfing. I wore my wetsuit since it was so early, and I watched the sun rise over the hill you see in the background as I was waiting for my first waves.<br />
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There were only three other guys out there -- probably would have been 50 or more if the waves were larger. I got a bunch of good rides. There were some three foot waves at the start, but size decreased over time. The waves were just perfect, though, and could be ridden for a long way. Again, it was very shallow and I had to be extremely careful to fall flat.<br />
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The water was clear here -- much clearer than any of the earlier spots. On one wave, I could see a large (15 inch?) fish fleeing in front of my board as I rode in.<br />
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I surfed until 9:30, and stopped because I was meeting "Yakers," an Internet buddy from the Early Retirement forum, and his wife at 11:00. I needed to shower off the wetsuit rubber smell, and do some errands (e.g. daily ice run).<br />
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I had a fantastic lunch and visit with Yakers and his beautiful wife. I'm disappointed that this picture doesn't do her justice, and doesn't show off the dimples she has when she smiles.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZglmRetuKZdb3zHE6Xy4WjRmM7VIKpAWvkSd80UAm27WE7C2Cpvg17dqWuczfZG7ujRoEATZqvDCPuOfPBAZOgGPAPXWXKXPIVRZM85uvA5RTAYXSnyvViTVyt4JWw4lylNYQUlPp43o/s1600-h/02LunchWithYakers.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZglmRetuKZdb3zHE6Xy4WjRmM7VIKpAWvkSd80UAm27WE7C2Cpvg17dqWuczfZG7ujRoEATZqvDCPuOfPBAZOgGPAPXWXKXPIVRZM85uvA5RTAYXSnyvViTVyt4JWw4lylNYQUlPp43o/s400/02LunchWithYakers.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100857931980940962" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
The restaurant was the Paradise Cove Beach Restaurant.<br />
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Yakers works for NASA at the JPL in Pasadena, and his wife is a retired school teacher. I enjoyed hearing about their vacations, and future trip plans. In a week or so they'll be off to the <a href="http://www.burningman.com/">Burning Man Project</a>.<br />
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Here's a shot on the way home to give you a feeling for the many beaches in and around Malibu:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSAI_u611u0v8Y1D2QpIqF91sIgsEZ-oXBoPbbBBqGEU80BUCW31UketkAaOeeGUwKU-MaMrI3KAXho4DiFzZInnu55_O4g3CJXuTSw9eJwdE1qga40LiTKI1M958UA_MgI32A-U8fhaw/s1600-h/03TypicalMalibuBeach.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSAI_u611u0v8Y1D2QpIqF91sIgsEZ-oXBoPbbBBqGEU80BUCW31UketkAaOeeGUwKU-MaMrI3KAXho4DiFzZInnu55_O4g3CJXuTSw9eJwdE1qga40LiTKI1M958UA_MgI32A-U8fhaw/s400/03TypicalMalibuBeach.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100857931980940978" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
After lunch I drove into Santa Monica to update the blog at the public library. My sleep deficit was catching up to me, however, so I saved my energy for the commute back to the campsite, and only worked for an hour or two.<br />
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For dinner I had two of the fish tacos from the lunch.<br />
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The parties continued that night, but without my dose of caffeine, and my 33 decibel earplugs I got a good night's sleep, getting up at 6 AM so that I'd make a possible rendezvous with Ronin (a surfer from the ER Forum) at Bolsa Chica beach (just south of LA) at 9 AM. See tomorrow's blog for details.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-3008928700364967342007-08-20T10:23:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:42:35.836-08:00Day 7 -- Santa Barbara to MalibuFriday, Aug 17, 2007<br />
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Wanted to get an early start for the trip to Malibu, since the Malibu campground had choose-your-own-campsite (the only one on the trip). So I had a pre-dawn breakfast of eggs and sausage:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLy7BCvoNVYr7EAKUpCaUmI_pFzrmkIqjiT0bP7TdCnAeRRyi-FmCwz6dGE7V3hirUeBQ0f7EI35cwilb374bw4ewCkjDnwq_cW9W8fciXHqzkQ_I9Zm9Dlg1X94AjZ0RrejbwZKyyMGA/s1600-h/01Breakfast.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLy7BCvoNVYr7EAKUpCaUmI_pFzrmkIqjiT0bP7TdCnAeRRyi-FmCwz6dGE7V3hirUeBQ0f7EI35cwilb374bw4ewCkjDnwq_cW9W8fciXHqzkQ_I9Zm9Dlg1X94AjZ0RrejbwZKyyMGA/s400/01Breakfast.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100835825784268194" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4D1hje-eQTi5CMExdMjCmJ6hvk7lJDRRBBNxXjXpj9_FTYzsXMcrBlF_bL7hr_oIsn69EK3y9ObWcsycTLYuJegMt6q1JBrZquzNTXjGiWNdnMSs81-_e9BKYNJsHaSJeTPnrVD0_gs/s1600-h/02EggsSausage.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4D1hje-eQTi5CMExdMjCmJ6hvk7lJDRRBBNxXjXpj9_FTYzsXMcrBlF_bL7hr_oIsn69EK3y9ObWcsycTLYuJegMt6q1JBrZquzNTXjGiWNdnMSs81-_e9BKYNJsHaSJeTPnrVD0_gs/s400/02EggsSausage.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100835830079235506" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>I use "egg substitutes" instead of eggs, since they're easier to transport (nice little container instead of breakable eggs). Not quite as good, however.<br />
<br />
The drive to Malibu was picturesque, and I continued to have perfect weather.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_ePGU2l5PBwI2Ezn_xD7MyhJie4Fu_wAsjGgWHC8U-ggFIAt6_UwxBXe_Ur8kh-5ybmFTesEH4HCBNx3YwQytP2k8xPIH4EHnqah2e29jz8FSU_o6hjjEzlmkg3Wys2k9KlvG6bhv6o/s1600-h/03DriveTomalibu.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_ePGU2l5PBwI2Ezn_xD7MyhJie4Fu_wAsjGgWHC8U-ggFIAt6_UwxBXe_Ur8kh-5ybmFTesEH4HCBNx3YwQytP2k8xPIH4EHnqah2e29jz8FSU_o6hjjEzlmkg3Wys2k9KlvG6bhv6o/s400/03DriveTomalibu.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100835830079235522" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>I arrived at Surfrider's beach, the famous Malibu surfing spot. The waves were extremely small, but there was a contest going on anyway.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKaFAbIItCafcsxLP8SQpN5ohU7HbdIjOFjekImWUcpju6Zy-odnOZTwmh8LRH2-PiRB66EQARIrPCaEwtzqfVb2t2GPGtwtOmtcji0r0owo5gImSM8xNuy9THxkNrcM8CNBrWeozzxKE/s1600-h/09MalibuBeach.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKaFAbIItCafcsxLP8SQpN5ohU7HbdIjOFjekImWUcpju6Zy-odnOZTwmh8LRH2-PiRB66EQARIrPCaEwtzqfVb2t2GPGtwtOmtcji0r0owo5gImSM8xNuy9THxkNrcM8CNBrWeozzxKE/s400/09MalibuBeach.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100837926023276066" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>When a contest happens, the organizers close the spot for everyone but the contestants. This is not often popular. As someone I spoke to put it "I travels all zee way from France to zurf here, and I cannot do eet."<br />
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But, you can see that this beach is for surfing, and for surfing only.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgre2ilW2TB0xVqIL-YI0lNH4AS4wzWhY4mCsaYcvm0b47SArcDHf1iPYbE_K-lqHdMS3NI11n3sEPcZjfFT3dW2Z_Ac3w0GbXfJqpkdm30-l4Ekp6NdRsG_2oYjDhX23gJybw78E6CPDQ/s1600-h/04Sign.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgre2ilW2TB0xVqIL-YI0lNH4AS4wzWhY4mCsaYcvm0b47SArcDHf1iPYbE_K-lqHdMS3NI11n3sEPcZjfFT3dW2Z_Ac3w0GbXfJqpkdm30-l4Ekp6NdRsG_2oYjDhX23gJybw78E6CPDQ/s400/04Sign.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100835834374202834" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I generally didn't have a good feeling about Malibu because of the<br />
<ul>
<li>Traffic</li>
<li>Parking </li>
<li>Exclusionary Feel</li>
</ul>
The main problem with the traffic is that the roads here aren't made for, and can't be modified to accommodate, lots of cars. There just isn't enough room between the cliffs and the oceanfront homes. Sometimes you get into what I call "No-U-Turn" syndrome (NUTS). You need to turn around, but there's No-U-Turn allowed, so you make a left, but that street also has No-U-Turn. Adding gridlock traffic is what makes this bad. I won't bore you, but once a state beach parking lot was blocked, and it took me 20-minutes of NUTS before I could get back to my original location. This literally involved driving from Malibu to Santa Monica (and up the famous California Incline, seen in many movies):<br />
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<a href="http://dadada.com/photos/palpark1-w.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://dadada.com/photos/palpark1-w.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
The lack of parking was worse. If you want to stop the car and check out the waves, you often just can't do it. A Paris-Hilton-type flipped me a triple bird from her silver Mercedes convertible, and I think it was because I was slowing down to check out the swells.<br />
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The parked cars line the Pacific Coast Highway, and all parking lots are fee-based, and expensive:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAr5om70O2SeIRUQ-TTsMKEfg0PSqEe0RlrlSEbAnNgVetfVQ2CY3BzVcSH4-aswj-w5PvqSmLuk5XeuWaK-6lqmxTU7vH8Yh1wh-O20lr5xFXerIYVbE6TGT261UokWQ2I8oGvMW6Ys/s1600-h/05ParkingCost1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAr5om70O2SeIRUQ-TTsMKEfg0PSqEe0RlrlSEbAnNgVetfVQ2CY3BzVcSH4-aswj-w5PvqSmLuk5XeuWaK-6lqmxTU7vH8Yh1wh-O20lr5xFXerIYVbE6TGT261UokWQ2I8oGvMW6Ys/s400/05ParkingCost1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100837917433341410" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkFTLRCB7gqnLtn3fitgo5jSdoO14wrLUFqulyd0_su-Snng2Ag8bLGO6LGMo9ui6ZOCZ8ZJVuIJGq5O4XsfNr2CqM3SwKBl13dW_EebZUFL4czgCnMQ4jzzYPOOp133OtP05xrGOii8/s1600-h/06ParkingCost2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkFTLRCB7gqnLtn3fitgo5jSdoO14wrLUFqulyd0_su-Snng2Ag8bLGO6LGMo9ui6ZOCZ8ZJVuIJGq5O4XsfNr2CqM3SwKBl13dW_EebZUFL4czgCnMQ4jzzYPOOp133OtP05xrGOii8/s400/06ParkingCost2.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100837917433341426" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
The lots fill up early even at these rates. State Beach parking is around $10, with the management often outsourced to "Pay and Display" companies.<br />
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The final thing about Malibu is the exclusionary feel. I can understand that movie stars and billionaires don't want tourists from Humboldt county looking in their windows, but it's annoying to have a lot of the nice places "off-limits" to normal people. It's fortunate that California mandates public coastal access at least to the average high tide level (click on the image to be able to read the sign):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfr09qk_I0jvdv9ICVzDte0wXBbFKbeqfwFgMJyiSM-WOrP7Lo0c3lDnMXKpu6sW5fdRjASsI9989Ycl3wi8lQ59ZGYE4oI8u6w4bmEpU0CwhS79C5wWzfh4N362QAcFGTV1M38tFpf4/s1600-h/07PrivateBeach.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfr09qk_I0jvdv9ICVzDte0wXBbFKbeqfwFgMJyiSM-WOrP7Lo0c3lDnMXKpu6sW5fdRjASsI9989Ycl3wi8lQ59ZGYE4oI8u6w4bmEpU0CwhS79C5wWzfh4N362QAcFGTV1M38tFpf4/s400/07PrivateBeach.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100837921728308738" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I planned to take a break from surfing for this day, but when I took a look at the break at Leo Carillo State beach (pronounced "Koreo"), I couldn't resist. I took this picture at low tide, after I came out. Click on this to see a better view, and note the kelp beds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDymMdLcaSAPOqop2dvBtkck3BONMxAzFGxqcai7e33vcomHTMEq1NcJ__H1dVEk9Z3zSr3pe-5SdP2uBhUCQw-FBxU_0JnF8lpijkVY35NbRWyk0hbtoGnqaev3Dj3Oece7o3cn5XoG8/s1600-h/10LeoCarillo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDymMdLcaSAPOqop2dvBtkck3BONMxAzFGxqcai7e33vcomHTMEq1NcJ__H1dVEk9Z3zSr3pe-5SdP2uBhUCQw-FBxU_0JnF8lpijkVY35NbRWyk0hbtoGnqaev3Dj3Oece7o3cn5XoG8/s400/10LeoCarillo.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100844905345132082" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
You can't get a feeling from it from this photo, but the wave would break right next to the big rock you see at the right, and form a nice "right" that could be ridden for a long way. There were usually 4-6 people waiting for the break.<br />
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Parts of the movie "Gidget" were filmed here. The scene in which three guys take off on the same wave was filmed right at this break.<br />
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The rocks you see on the shore extend out into the water, and as you surf in, it's very shallow (1-2 feet deep) and sometimes I'd hit my fin on a rock. You have to be very careful when you fall that you land flat on the water or you will die. Got a few good rides on 3 foot waves. Small, but nice shape. <br />
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The kelp is sometimes a problem. It comes right up to the surface, so occasionally you turn and start paddling to catch a wave, and find that your legs are tangled in the seaweed and you can't move.<br />
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Also, you have to walk through 60 feet or so of these rocks when you go in and out, carrying your surfboard with waves washing around you. I walked out at a place where there were a lot of sharp mussels, so I got a few cuts on my feet, but at least it's not coral! Wish I'd worn my booties.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Camping</span><br />
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I'd picked out a nice campsite at Malibu Creek State Park, so I returned there after the surfing. This spot was 7 miles inland, so it was pretty hot and dry. In fact, Malibu itself was very hot.<br />
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Here are some views of my site (before the campground filled to capacity):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYR5bSHPaikBc19qVRCCYzs6V24C2YQF4ELj52S1TcB5XBRYtOK91gKsHrr5Xbr3x5zR-RIog7juvW5PbO2ADtMLupuFAT5_NP8JxSgy5rNAu7PdL76DBqiOrs07c6PMrwFUjIU6idht0/s1600-h/11MalibuCreekCampsite.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYR5bSHPaikBc19qVRCCYzs6V24C2YQF4ELj52S1TcB5XBRYtOK91gKsHrr5Xbr3x5zR-RIog7juvW5PbO2ADtMLupuFAT5_NP8JxSgy5rNAu7PdL76DBqiOrs07c6PMrwFUjIU6idht0/s400/11MalibuCreekCampsite.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100844905345132098" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCt8_HjWGrZKtc7c8oHfJWhis0_VJizeQsyWo9_Bjkhfuc9IZ2kav1BOt17x5IpRuJvkNG9RjPCr91tvxneHsSAmtXfK2ZGf9m9Zcgtd11inTtoDwlzGIT081PXyBfcS04LBb_DDA-jw/s1600-h/12MalibuCreekCampsite2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCt8_HjWGrZKtc7c8oHfJWhis0_VJizeQsyWo9_Bjkhfuc9IZ2kav1BOt17x5IpRuJvkNG9RjPCr91tvxneHsSAmtXfK2ZGf9m9Zcgtd11inTtoDwlzGIT081PXyBfcS04LBb_DDA-jw/s400/12MalibuCreekCampsite2.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100844909640099410" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Click on this one for a bigger version:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTq7KBXLwZ6F0knRyhKLRKKbFxIzK4Q0I1awk6UhApcMyDQ62INoIeo-P4Vg5hRpGcSHHlmNfNUaxoTO3kzVGPC0plWSP97fC2LV1qWtfXJRqt8L62nReWWhTxDuU7vct656q1A2NxKOw/s1600-h/13MalibuCreekCampsite.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTq7KBXLwZ6F0knRyhKLRKKbFxIzK4Q0I1awk6UhApcMyDQ62INoIeo-P4Vg5hRpGcSHHlmNfNUaxoTO3kzVGPC0plWSP97fC2LV1qWtfXJRqt8L62nReWWhTxDuU7vct656q1A2NxKOw/s400/13MalibuCreekCampsite.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100844909640099426" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Unfortunately, Malibu Creek State Park is Party Central for Los Angeles. This party, across from my campsite continued until 3:15 AM. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MgZDPLjbgGrjGRwO9ihCsEz8bNwGTvrxB6cV10JtXK-21TBB1Q0gnR_Bo_BXMADYJEFpvD67e0pXRVIJ0IdJWVsu4QTUC9GTj2wIxaGMyQlbwz-YAuL2U7JyOKphhCrlkG_mYTZ9nC4/s1600-h/14MalibuCreekParty.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MgZDPLjbgGrjGRwO9ihCsEz8bNwGTvrxB6cV10JtXK-21TBB1Q0gnR_Bo_BXMADYJEFpvD67e0pXRVIJ0IdJWVsu4QTUC9GTj2wIxaGMyQlbwz-YAuL2U7JyOKphhCrlkG_mYTZ9nC4/s400/14MalibuCreekParty.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100844913935066738" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
To give you a feeling for the party, they had a ski (snow ski) with 4 shot glasses glued to the top. I guess this allows four people to take shots at the same time.<br />
<br />
I made the mistake of drinking an orange soda with dinner. I realized at 3 AM that it contained caffeine. So I only slept from 3:30 to 5:30 AM, when the chihuahua next door started barking.<br />
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But at least that let me get on the waves in Malibu before the sun came up (see tomorrow's blog entry).Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-33456165808706541872007-08-18T14:56:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:42:14.854-08:00Day 6 -- Santa BarbaraThurs, Aug 16, 2007<br />
<br />
I'm falling behind in updating the blog so I'll make this quick.<br />
<br />
Finally remembered to wax the board,<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9LnD9okPnWgZHwiAwjGxoD-kqCpavimCQWhv5rLi4kmgmXYYLNQ7jHz31PCV3zU9pqLc1vABCjNq4j4LjLevLxThncqjh4iVfOUQiB5yO_74Mc-JjOtf5n6l4BTzVGk4Dl9R0N6bI-o/s1600-h/01waxingboard.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9LnD9okPnWgZHwiAwjGxoD-kqCpavimCQWhv5rLi4kmgmXYYLNQ7jHz31PCV3zU9pqLc1vABCjNq4j4LjLevLxThncqjh4iVfOUQiB5yO_74Mc-JjOtf5n6l4BTzVGk4Dl9R0N6bI-o/s400/01waxingboard.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100164698489562482" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>and I surfed near point Devereux in Santa Barbara. Waves were smaller than at "Sands," but I actually got a few long rides.<br />
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I updated the blog at the Goleta public library.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsPm3cLh5xVM63bY0Te4CDs9htU4J3CyqJLPr_Wkjatw4OpgqtvrCf7CmcvOn_2mT_5_KgcQur6BS4WfFP-dwnVPnqkQv8S5nvlPZ3bpmDe0A0w384qQ3chS2PblF0MpDDcFBVP4x0xQ0/s1600-h/02InLibrary.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsPm3cLh5xVM63bY0Te4CDs9htU4J3CyqJLPr_Wkjatw4OpgqtvrCf7CmcvOn_2mT_5_KgcQur6BS4WfFP-dwnVPnqkQv8S5nvlPZ3bpmDe0A0w384qQ3chS2PblF0MpDDcFBVP4x0xQ0/s400/02InLibrary.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100164702784529794" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Great hammock installation at the final Santa Barbara campsite -- very comfortable:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtrEynf_Q3O4JMC-OM4Z4Rjp2C7oLfSlyKl29BK_cFcLo6GD5lZ4-fF1wmdxvBviUmPgYbBYMMfTn_fWxDa6DwO5IC94_vCX8f519C2qxWU7X4Fcc7K6sq2ay-2-McYF_MWx5SjaF1xA/s1600-h/03Hammock.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtrEynf_Q3O4JMC-OM4Z4Rjp2C7oLfSlyKl29BK_cFcLo6GD5lZ4-fF1wmdxvBviUmPgYbBYMMfTn_fWxDa6DwO5IC94_vCX8f519C2qxWU7X4Fcc7K6sq2ay-2-McYF_MWx5SjaF1xA/s400/03Hammock.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100164702784529810" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-36541449556370610002007-08-16T10:45:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:41:41.766-08:00Day 5 -- Santa BarbaraWednesday, Aug 15, 2007<br />
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No traveling today, though I do have to change to a different campsite.<br />
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Here are two pictures to show you a part of the shoreline of El Capitan (these don't show the beach, which is nice and sandy).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz9YQQuIMUvGmPU8qN05aeNo6yMxsqA_QI2YhX-5hIj-A5WWNFJfD52eFDQec0xxwM_1a5GjZQg438mrp6zfrj_uHr-xRAcT2pkP7L0wz2Q2F38WjBI4x34MXtbhG3BOvhmRIQ4RJXas/s1600-h/01ElCapitan.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz9YQQuIMUvGmPU8qN05aeNo6yMxsqA_QI2YhX-5hIj-A5WWNFJfD52eFDQec0xxwM_1a5GjZQg438mrp6zfrj_uHr-xRAcT2pkP7L0wz2Q2F38WjBI4x34MXtbhG3BOvhmRIQ4RJXas/s400/01ElCapitan.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099356677702231330" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgZ8XTVEq4j8kgu7bJrUiMB2JISKCZmPpg9plOw4HnOVuUG6i819mHH1hE732NKiyXuH9yPPFyhPu4f1CWDsCH54zQZzsqRb911wNP5KUwXJPijUyciInlhN2IEVN2py941kT1wySl5k/s1600-h/02Tables.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgZ8XTVEq4j8kgu7bJrUiMB2JISKCZmPpg9plOw4HnOVuUG6i819mHH1hE732NKiyXuH9yPPFyhPu4f1CWDsCH54zQZzsqRb911wNP5KUwXJPijUyciInlhN2IEVN2py941kT1wySl5k/s400/02Tables.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099356677702231346" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
After updating the blog at the Goleta public library, and some pizza for a late lunch, I met my good friend Nathaniel for some surfing. Nathaniel is Tom and Berit's son, born at the same time as our daughter, Jenny. So I've known him all his life. He now goes to UC Santa Barbara, and is a big 6' 3" blonde surfer dude (and serious student).<br />
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Here he is riding his bike to meet me near the "Sands" surfing spot:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_XKRt3x57XKbVrAH_p3DDubNMayd0-9rUzw8Dso88h3QJGulhdhJGnrcciaxuqthingYujUKP-ABRiozI1Kp4dFYtpYz0YDMC1lNBM-hMG1FtkG5BfM-V2ASxR6EmuPT9_SA9VtualwE/s1600-h/03NatOnBike.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_XKRt3x57XKbVrAH_p3DDubNMayd0-9rUzw8Dso88h3QJGulhdhJGnrcciaxuqthingYujUKP-ABRiozI1Kp4dFYtpYz0YDMC1lNBM-hMG1FtkG5BfM-V2ASxR6EmuPT9_SA9VtualwE/s400/03NatOnBike.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099356681997198658" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>The waves were picking up in size now (4-6 feet??), and surfers were coming out of the woodwork everywhere to head out. He knew a lot of the guys out there, plus one girl, Ericka, a great surfer in a yellow bikini. All very friendly with Nathaniel's old-guy buddy.<br />
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Most were surfing short boards, with a lot of serious shredding being done by Nathaniel and others. I got a few good rides in and managed not to embarrass myself too much.<br />
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There are natural tar seepages along the coast here near Santa Barbara, so there's an interesting diesel smell in the air sometimes while surfing. You also have to watch out for little tar globules on the beach.<br />
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In addition there's a major fire going on in the hills right now, so the sunlight is a little yellow, and there's ash on the car every morning.<br />
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After the session, I took a shower back at Nathaniel's bachelor pad.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FmannB-24C3tpR4yFJrMLiCIpFZIDrTNI9mnyr6uqzclgptQ3TMEbiC7uB07cLDZk27V2rP6ZKn2s5YediivyjaFEgBUbH6CCRVS7DCajGWKnTPmIW3881R94RNCIU0fvxJh1xEve-4/s1600-h/04BachelorPad.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FmannB-24C3tpR4yFJrMLiCIpFZIDrTNI9mnyr6uqzclgptQ3TMEbiC7uB07cLDZk27V2rP6ZKn2s5YediivyjaFEgBUbH6CCRVS7DCajGWKnTPmIW3881R94RNCIU0fvxJh1xEve-4/s400/04BachelorPad.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099356681997198674" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>His place reminded me of some of the places I lived in during college, except for the wide-screen TV. The house is in Isla Vista (Spanish for "party town"), where most of the students at UCSB live. He has four (five?) roomates.<br />
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Here's the loft above the garage -- no idea what they use it for:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYTYZ3YPwZq5G2pzAc49tV-mt2PzTpJqIJr2FJLlVa2tgHiWNlHsIx7ag0uKAbbMY7_xQRi3MdjFJi751nvO1wv-KinE-30YEV0WuO49DF-9D-vuWQ2Ye3KSfadjBJmgNA1Ppx3QXmo4/s1600-h/05LoveLoft.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYTYZ3YPwZq5G2pzAc49tV-mt2PzTpJqIJr2FJLlVa2tgHiWNlHsIx7ag0uKAbbMY7_xQRi3MdjFJi751nvO1wv-KinE-30YEV0WuO49DF-9D-vuWQ2Ye3KSfadjBJmgNA1Ppx3QXmo4/s400/05LoveLoft.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099356686292165986" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
We then walked over to Freebird's, a fantastic 24-hour Mexican food place. Great food. I ate all of my huge veggie burrito, since Lena (wife) wasn't there to split it with me. A real highlight was sitting outside in the warm air, talking with Nathaniel and drinking my Corona.<br />
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Then, by coincidence, Annika showed up. She's also Jenny's age, goes to UCSB, and is the daughter of Gunilla, a good friend who was a member of Lena's Swedish gang when we lived in the bay area.<br />
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Then back to the campsite where day five ended with a beer in front of the first fire of the trip.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-38220834037493976032007-08-15T11:36:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:41:13.477-08:00Camping is DeadEnough bubbly fun stuff. Enough sunsets, burping, farting, and funny pictures of my butt. It's time for some darkness and despair:<br />
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<div style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 130%;">Camping is Dead</span></div>
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This is the type of camping that is dead: The family arrives at a campground, picks out a nice site, and sets up a modest tent. The kids run off to catch bullfrogs or swim in the pond with the other kids. After dinner (after Norman Rockwell leaves), they sit around the fire, talk quietly, listen to the crickets and the wind in the trees, and gaze at the stars.<br />
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That type of camping is dead because now, it's <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">party time</span> </span>with as many of your toys as you can cram into your huge pickup truck and trailer. To illustrate, here's one campsite right near mine:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUubneTQtURuaU_9q6PBQgk57VAx5h1cN4TA3WAQDp3DgoGTF7pDWf0Bt4GqMQcHRrhQoomF7bkhXqARvnF_QhzhzCWjTOXxNRgnUMwLJCdYH54JAVygAcxbW5grKDDx4T7eiygci7huM/s1600-h/CampDead02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUubneTQtURuaU_9q6PBQgk57VAx5h1cN4TA3WAQDp3DgoGTF7pDWf0Bt4GqMQcHRrhQoomF7bkhXqARvnF_QhzhzCWjTOXxNRgnUMwLJCdYH54JAVygAcxbW5grKDDx4T7eiygci7huM/s400/CampDead02.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098999943326428146" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>All of that stuff is for just two people!<br />
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There were a lot more sites just like that, but I didn't want to disturb the passed out revelers with my flash.<br />
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Now I'm not against party time, I'm just showing how effectively it kills off camping as I described it above. These parties go late into the night, and they're usually loud.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Noise</span></span><br />
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Sounds then: Wind in trees, crickets, happy kids.<br />
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Sounds now: Car alarms, generators, boom boxes, cell phone rings, Gameboy music, loud talking over the music.<br />
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Sometimes the temperature is a pleasant 75 degrees in the shade, but inside a big RV, it might be as hot as an old Volvo at the Ensenada Walmart. So, the RV owners run the generator so they can have the AC on. That's fine unless you are sitting in the shade at the campsite next door. Some RV generators sound like an idling cement truck.<br />
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I understand the attraction of RVing, and I have some good friends with RVs. I've even rented one. It's just that they are not always compatible with someone who wants to sit outside and read a book.<br />
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BTW, generators are no longer limited to RV's. I now see a lot of these at campsites:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cgUi-nVTShLA8NyiZrX4hUcZV-wwbZZfpYj3X5nj65ijdiYYY5XDVoRe1LKWo9WKp60awsr9hYIz564XrditnBNCsvEv6XrjvzQmkAKqKUkQJJZkYvnPPcwg6CtKRM4o8Q-9wKNnAfk/s1600-h/CampDead025.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cgUi-nVTShLA8NyiZrX4hUcZV-wwbZZfpYj3X5nj65ijdiYYY5XDVoRe1LKWo9WKp60awsr9hYIz564XrditnBNCsvEv6XrjvzQmkAKqKUkQJJZkYvnPPcwg6CtKRM4o8Q-9wKNnAfk/s400/CampDead025.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099003216091507714" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Something new: a lot of cars have remote locks that briefly honk the horn when you lock the car. So, as you're going to sleep, you hear these little mini-honks around the campground.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Light</span></span><br />
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When the campers turn on their Coleman maxi-lights at night, the stars fade out until the sky looks like it does in Times Square. It's worse, actually, because in the city, people have their lights on <span style="font-style: italic;">inside </span>their houses.<br />
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Last night I pitched my tent after dark, and I put it here...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgrIMzZwpfpCTaW_ZnzGHpWQWbcE8HhoUpJ-0IjXLEcjmhv_qtq4i9zPWarhsdJn11w85Hbp-UGXS0TcMvqqn3J8QuwI5_lAcr4SL80VsUZX50aX_Kb659icjnEUAKk8P7-ufj0f6L2Y/s1600-h/CampDead03.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgrIMzZwpfpCTaW_ZnzGHpWQWbcE8HhoUpJ-0IjXLEcjmhv_qtq4i9zPWarhsdJn11w85Hbp-UGXS0TcMvqqn3J8QuwI5_lAcr4SL80VsUZX50aX_Kb659icjnEUAKk8P7-ufj0f6L2Y/s400/CampDead03.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099004019250392082" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
...so that the car would block out the light from the neighboring site. But that was only partially effective, because the light streamed under car and onto the sides of the tent. In fact, I was triangulated by lights from three separate campsites.<br />
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Again, I realize the benefits of a bright light when cleaning up after the party. I'm just observing how it changes the camping experience.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fire Rings</span></span><br />
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For some reason, and I'll bet that reason is "liability," the campgrounds seem to have fire rings with very high sides, like this one:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75FOn362hlvIyQuqiRMQfxfQJRoCgwDYSQ-zFPDJS63k8k0-f64xBMA6CeQgqw1ABJBHtkXqaJoluBuqQwfqn9wCok7EEmyIcxD2uN1i2Xxih3RTLisKMQkd5Q6Snp_LIaC63PEoqDIs/s1600-h/CampDead04FireRing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75FOn362hlvIyQuqiRMQfxfQJRoCgwDYSQ-zFPDJS63k8k0-f64xBMA6CeQgqw1ABJBHtkXqaJoluBuqQwfqn9wCok7EEmyIcxD2uN1i2Xxih3RTLisKMQkd5Q6Snp_LIaC63PEoqDIs/s400/CampDead04FireRing.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099006025000119330" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>To give you a sense of scale, I've pasted in a picture of the Empire State Building.<br />
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This design might be great if the goal is nostalgia for being homeless and standing around an oil drum in a NYC slum, but for sitting around the fire it doesn't work well. Not if you want to actually <span style="font-style: italic;">see </span>the fire. Plus, the cooking grate sits several feet above the bottom of the pit, so don't count on easy cooking.<br />
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Perhaps the main reason for this design is fire safety. But this advantage is gone due to fire-ring inflation. That is, the campers now bring tons of firewood, and fill up the entire ring with it, creating a mini-firestorm, with little fountains of embers shooting out the top.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold;">Big Tents</span><br />
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Just a quick observation about those humongous, complicated three-or-more room tents that are popular today: I've observed that tent setting up time is not happy family time.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold;">Backpacking</span><br />
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I've been talking about car camping here, of course. So you might be thinking that if you want to recreate the real camping experience, all you have to do is go backpacking. Yes, that's true in many cases, however:<br />
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1. Some Trinity Alps backpacking destinations prohibit firewood collection. That is, there are so many backpackers, that too much of the scrub manzanita is being used for firewood. So, no campfires.<br />
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2. At Mount Rainier National Park, there are so many hikers, that backpackers are required to put all of their waste, and I'm not talking about coffee grounds here, into bags and pack it out with them. You thought it was gross to pick up after your dog! Don't open the wrong stuff sack when looking for the trail mix.<br />
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WHO KILLED CAMPING?<br />
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I'm guessing that two reasons are overpopulation and consumerism.<br />
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In California, you can start making online reservations at 12 AM on January 1. By 4 AM, many of the better campgrounds are totally booked for every day in August. As population increases, we can keep building new Starbucks and strip malls, but the campgrounds are limited. <br />
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People apparently have to buy a lot of stuff. A campsite with a trailer, two motorcycles and an off-road vehicle is not unusual. How can this person resist buying a high power Coleman lantern?<br />
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In conclusion, it sounds like I'm condemning the change in camping atmosphere, but that's not true. I could get into having an RV with me, being able to take a nap in the hot afternoon even if my campsite had less shade than death valley. I enjoy hanging out with a bunch of friends and talking into the night. I'm just observing that car camping as it used to be is dead, and it's not coming back.<br />
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OK, enough darkness and despair -- back to farting and funny pictures of my butt.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-76531775604861269912007-08-14T20:07:00.001-07:002014-01-17T11:40:53.114-08:00Day 4 -- Pismo Beach to Santa BarbaraTuesday, Aug 14, 2007<br />
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I actually slept until about 7 AM today -- good for me! There was even sun on the tent.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL9Scqrn5AvZiG2SVpYGSrl_z-s3AUZiYvoJ15Hq5D8CIm9VvtQYpjvhqmeqg3HF0wS4x04px3FUdCAw5JYCESyi8qn15FONweV7iCGqhEptpE1YwQuRk-ZwstfQE-uwikEq1wJ2n-Fx4/s1600-h/04010TentEarlyMorning.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL9Scqrn5AvZiG2SVpYGSrl_z-s3AUZiYvoJ15Hq5D8CIm9VvtQYpjvhqmeqg3HF0wS4x04px3FUdCAw5JYCESyi8qn15FONweV7iCGqhEptpE1YwQuRk-ZwstfQE-uwikEq1wJ2n-Fx4/s400/04010TentEarlyMorning.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098759498172296018" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTL0QK-RlNywO7-6BCGcGa61qO-Oj-c556cTMeO0IIyserbyUuhOZxlCpao-4ScnY7uUKKdIoKbK902ORdqI9biuSdBGtR_uPS93Q9MH84BNHSy6O-pg04RDHrg4BNDSIRbElUEM3UGhw/s1600-h/04015InsideTent.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTL0QK-RlNywO7-6BCGcGa61qO-Oj-c556cTMeO0IIyserbyUuhOZxlCpao-4ScnY7uUKKdIoKbK902ORdqI9biuSdBGtR_uPS93Q9MH84BNHSy6O-pg04RDHrg4BNDSIRbElUEM3UGhw/s400/04015InsideTent.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098759498172296034" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
After breakfast (pan-roasted sprouted wheat bread and hot cocoa),<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnvZzqTEdOvaKj2BPEEp1OpcPB8JniXogowFzjOhwnr2276_iYYiSNATpIF9SjhOz8IFUjFRntas8GLKd2hULo9nFqjrwsSKIXn1S6ThJkOu9fyDwDfD9JWeaElJR2z0j6Ib1oTFsnVQ/s1600-h/04017Breakfast.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnvZzqTEdOvaKj2BPEEp1OpcPB8JniXogowFzjOhwnr2276_iYYiSNATpIF9SjhOz8IFUjFRntas8GLKd2hULo9nFqjrwsSKIXn1S6ThJkOu9fyDwDfD9JWeaElJR2z0j6Ib1oTFsnVQ/s400/04017Breakfast.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098763419477437378" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I hung up a few things to air out.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0SFruRh7ICqOLp45wAdKA-tmwBspYi5bGQD73hIYxAN-Rq9NjXrNejNJjravMN0FAw3RCLxlJ9dkCkbzk3QT6aHTOzO-rBFeNM18Z-XY2afnky1UH2S8cA0krkbQ_hw7PQQ_aWNM5WQY/s1600-h/04020HangingUp.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0SFruRh7ICqOLp45wAdKA-tmwBspYi5bGQD73hIYxAN-Rq9NjXrNejNJjravMN0FAw3RCLxlJ9dkCkbzk3QT6aHTOzO-rBFeNM18Z-XY2afnky1UH2S8cA0krkbQ_hw7PQQ_aWNM5WQY/s400/04020HangingUp.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098759506762230674" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
One of the problems with car camping, is the the thing you want is always under other things. The first method of dealing with this is to unload, find, take, and reload. The other technique is to reach in until you feel the object, and then pull. I'm demonstrating this here:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyndHZpSQg5qNr6uoYAb30C0s4kpPNa1DP1mmwyK5D6W-Qux1dOz2q3PS-xYpMGPCCzVJK-j9mqugJNc5knIBQYjaZpYCgNU087Z1mR7bofhCvWH9aJKGz_BG2mdRUaG6873y9YuOt3I/s1600-h/04100LookingInTrunk.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyndHZpSQg5qNr6uoYAb30C0s4kpPNa1DP1mmwyK5D6W-Qux1dOz2q3PS-xYpMGPCCzVJK-j9mqugJNc5knIBQYjaZpYCgNU087Z1mR7bofhCvWH9aJKGz_BG2mdRUaG6873y9YuOt3I/s400/04100LookingInTrunk.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098759506762230658" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I met these two guys that had a "Rip Stick." This is a skateboard with two inline wheels. It can actually be propelled very effectively, even up hill, by making strong S curves.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R26zPe98Zfru_XftOyn8pa9OqwT9z5r8ue7vanHDqN9fk0gIEvWnZNZTGXSNJuK85D59zaEtzt01arIGTr8zmSHuSI_CT7qrV1JNTEU7KX3gFB6AFqVV_kkJi2Z7Xyye2AviNQaywe0/s1600-h/04120RipStick1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R26zPe98Zfru_XftOyn8pa9OqwT9z5r8ue7vanHDqN9fk0gIEvWnZNZTGXSNJuK85D59zaEtzt01arIGTr8zmSHuSI_CT7qrV1JNTEU7KX3gFB6AFqVV_kkJi2Z7Xyye2AviNQaywe0/s400/04120RipStick1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098761306353527714" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP614hJg1ID-EwIPCN9ScqifVcQJ-IMKVlqf-e6yRXLShQkRRDZgfoIjJUHHjI5yJIUAi9X7Co5gfAGYT7yU4vExvpr2xmWciSnR0xqmlhGcRhye-69YVSyn1WneY1vkEfz8Ipudtxu5A/s1600-h/04125RipStick2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP614hJg1ID-EwIPCN9ScqifVcQJ-IMKVlqf-e6yRXLShQkRRDZgfoIjJUHHjI5yJIUAi9X7Co5gfAGYT7yU4vExvpr2xmWciSnR0xqmlhGcRhye-69YVSyn1WneY1vkEfz8Ipudtxu5A/s400/04125RipStick2.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098761306353527730" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I next put on my wetsuit and walked to the beach. The waves weren't that good there, but there were two large grey dolphins playing very close to me. Much bigger than the ones at home, and grey instead of brown. One popped most of the way out of the water, and fell onto his back.<br />
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I then walked about a mile down the beach to the pier, and the waves were better there -- surfed for about an hour.<br />
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I packed at noon, made a sandwich for lunch and headed to Santa Barbara. My campsite had only one tree, but I was able to rig my hammock, put in the earplugs to block out the generators and boom boxes, and take a nap.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgXruPyOwquWQMEfcFOSNE3V6jRawrcOfYBvEZz5EaEABdqxKX5Y6cys20jTzTL8HOkHzn2OiUZ1LQf-O1x4UkDOBIMY35xcBtkNnZ_RuViHppp9lGAGOZLaSTzyvVZKKZEVfY0UcYZI/s1600-h/04130Hammock.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgXruPyOwquWQMEfcFOSNE3V6jRawrcOfYBvEZz5EaEABdqxKX5Y6cys20jTzTL8HOkHzn2OiUZ1LQf-O1x4UkDOBIMY35xcBtkNnZ_RuViHppp9lGAGOZLaSTzyvVZKKZEVfY0UcYZI/s400/04130Hammock.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098763874743970770" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I took a peek at the beach (this is El Capitan State Beach), then headed into S.B. to the library and dinner. I'm back at the library now posting, and it's 8:30 PM and dark. I gotta finish up and head back to the campground and set up the tent. Besides, the guy two tables down is farting and burping, and making other weird noises, so it's time to head out -- no time for proofreading!<br />
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I'll be here for three days, so I get a break from the driving. I'm going to burn out if I don't slow down a little.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-15528526404176403582007-08-14T17:31:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:40:24.021-08:00Day 3, Part 2Monday, Aug 14, 2007.<br />
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From now on, I'll put the day of the week and date on the post, 'cause I am so losing track of what day it is.<br />
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After posting to the blog from an Aptos coffee shop, I talked with Jenny and Lena (daughter and wife, both of whom are currently in Sweden) via Skype. Pretty cool.<br />
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The trip to Pismo Beach took me through the Salinas valley, a major agricultural area. Lots of strawberries were being harvested.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIPkJkO19GPfm-ysMPt8GfkqrwBIFxnnnKke8Vs6wwgAS7qxVxxocibc54KYgeqw_SbShEuOBPSvbRa-tBAaV9tE72yKJ0SoTGKAuB3NxYIJM-pD-xah8tr0XXlOs94gdjAxlq_b6OAk4/s1600-h/0304StrawberryFields.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIPkJkO19GPfm-ysMPt8GfkqrwBIFxnnnKke8Vs6wwgAS7qxVxxocibc54KYgeqw_SbShEuOBPSvbRa-tBAaV9tE72yKJ0SoTGKAuB3NxYIJM-pD-xah8tr0XXlOs94gdjAxlq_b6OAk4/s400/0304StrawberryFields.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098719456192195298" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3M5H8QLzAGV7Y6pLp2AhmuPC1f_1cMBov86oPo76RUADOxVj82VDIfTQOOYIucXtGimAQFsZl6TCVJYUXYxFNX0WJcBA7UtHCH7SjmcPsEAop6GOB-kalNQ7Dmsymxu9zorV837oMUSk/s1600-h/0305Strawberries.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3M5H8QLzAGV7Y6pLp2AhmuPC1f_1cMBov86oPo76RUADOxVj82VDIfTQOOYIucXtGimAQFsZl6TCVJYUXYxFNX0WJcBA7UtHCH7SjmcPsEAop6GOB-kalNQ7Dmsymxu9zorV837oMUSk/s400/0305Strawberries.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098719456192195314" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Artichokes be big here too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYwk7n2P3Ul_pC9OrcHA355ZZ1rfUs4dED-V_9Vf0A4SoGjJ628MHQgzSCm-WhdoSfMvDxBXhRrD43kFVmOFbNQ__aWfSg9ic_DpzpvmZcpAslYmuPjvZE8ZJ9JDFfltChR9Txz3uaNM/s1600-h/0306aCastroville.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYwk7n2P3Ul_pC9OrcHA355ZZ1rfUs4dED-V_9Vf0A4SoGjJ628MHQgzSCm-WhdoSfMvDxBXhRrD43kFVmOFbNQ__aWfSg9ic_DpzpvmZcpAslYmuPjvZE8ZJ9JDFfltChR9Txz3uaNM/s400/0306aCastroville.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098719460487162626" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Next was a quick stop to have the surfboard blessed by Neptune and Minerva.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiM7PSmLUhMeHqiIDtec_Y08__YFMP1h6C8n5kiCxPUiLxpAQX_J80mcLKZCk7qHa2R6T2gKdnd-oLWbAtyczHgr3NvqcT08qfCTekhMpCIGfgwu8HPe7xM5vjh2j9czWSfmyIroFKnL8/s1600-h/0306NeptuneMural.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiM7PSmLUhMeHqiIDtec_Y08__YFMP1h6C8n5kiCxPUiLxpAQX_J80mcLKZCk7qHa2R6T2gKdnd-oLWbAtyczHgr3NvqcT08qfCTekhMpCIGfgwu8HPe7xM5vjh2j9czWSfmyIroFKnL8/s400/0306NeptuneMural.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098720667372972850" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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And after a lot of drivinng, I checked into the campground at Pismo Beach State Beach, and took a walk down the beach to check out the pier.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVBXeL0Shw-xjGw_wiCgAGaARRYSMaraSl6uozMYXApC249lsTAtjGMOLf5xyu8JJEWoWru-0sXEs2ZI7WuNwWD9cuqU-25AIgNnOnGSalexFZ5dzrrOiufAVXkLeUfLGOMyJtdYTh54/s1600-h/0307PismoPierFar.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVBXeL0Shw-xjGw_wiCgAGaARRYSMaraSl6uozMYXApC249lsTAtjGMOLf5xyu8JJEWoWru-0sXEs2ZI7WuNwWD9cuqU-25AIgNnOnGSalexFZ5dzrrOiufAVXkLeUfLGOMyJtdYTh54/s400/0307PismoPierFar.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098719460487162642" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXysW0OUF_BtvbfYXAM1PSPksyjDxPCdiSorYNTRcjb44a1tRFj6o8si329mLZKkfp4J_AFddH24WwXVyghei-OTywsdqVB0gBHuW4Mblp2baeGZXpl3C_GuZUwQxpaJ-ND7Xxc276f40/s1600-h/0308PierAndKids.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXysW0OUF_BtvbfYXAM1PSPksyjDxPCdiSorYNTRcjb44a1tRFj6o8si329mLZKkfp4J_AFddH24WwXVyghei-OTywsdqVB0gBHuW4Mblp2baeGZXpl3C_GuZUwQxpaJ-ND7Xxc276f40/s400/0308PierAndKids.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098719464782129954" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkP7IKqIr_LgNpi5uRitsk-fU0anCXZRf83v3t8VbQr4YSj9NdxEqo0ES3Ox4YLaJpxHkpOQshzgg4DUcPwGQam_OYweDV5TyKmUXrpbBKYNH3aidAhRvySCdQx77wuhkS79NEio-k_NE/s1600-h/0309HangingFive.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkP7IKqIr_LgNpi5uRitsk-fU0anCXZRf83v3t8VbQr4YSj9NdxEqo0ES3Ox4YLaJpxHkpOQshzgg4DUcPwGQam_OYweDV5TyKmUXrpbBKYNH3aidAhRvySCdQx77wuhkS79NEio-k_NE/s400/0309HangingFive.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098720671667940162" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Remember, you can click on these images to see the full-size version.<br />
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I was really beat by the end of the day. A few hours of surfing in Santa Cruz, four hours of driving, then the long walk to the pier and back. I've got to cut down on these activities!<br />
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I had planned to drive to Santa Barbara early tomorrow and surf there, but since I'll be in S.B. for three days, I think I'll shoot the pier here tomorrow, and then head on down the coast.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-367056347442004012007-08-13T12:36:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:39:41.198-08:00Pepsi Can StoveI have to take a second here to praise my favorite camping device, the <a href="http://www.pcthiker.com/pages/gear/pepsistove.shtml">Pepsi can stove</a>. I am always amazed at how well this thing works. No moving parts, weighs a few ounces.<br />
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I use "Heet" gas line antifreeze and water remover as fuel. It comes in the convenient yellow container shown in below, and is available at most gas station mini-marts. There are no moving parts, and it heats almost as well as the burner on our stove at home.<br />
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Here's a picture of it cooking my chili.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW949tyqJI9Mleio7uXynLdEPzENtOHa8S39c7TuhvLiXUptV8rWzGVMX1SZQQJUdK8vjZv7VjO0IdgjkJDJcQghXa5eFy8RiqHGwz-Nnpg4xL_zFpAoAFQjOS75Qvs3E5A1zXls1J55U/s1600-h/Pepsi02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW949tyqJI9Mleio7uXynLdEPzENtOHa8S39c7TuhvLiXUptV8rWzGVMX1SZQQJUdK8vjZv7VjO0IdgjkJDJcQghXa5eFy8RiqHGwz-Nnpg4xL_zFpAoAFQjOS75Qvs3E5A1zXls1J55U/s400/Pepsi02.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098271585592502978" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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This is a closer view of the stove.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8IePQjvlwFolIPDLH-uHU5YlNq8VK5w2YgR-WS5cKwsQchP67zbplNqujwembzjTc60h7kT50BH05rk7w4cRFoug4k06Eg9o5T8AAWeCalwFzcDqbKiiSOHZnua9_l8wew8YkWEcgh0/s1600-h/Pepsi01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8IePQjvlwFolIPDLH-uHU5YlNq8VK5w2YgR-WS5cKwsQchP67zbplNqujwembzjTc60h7kT50BH05rk7w4cRFoug4k06Eg9o5T8AAWeCalwFzcDqbKiiSOHZnua9_l8wew8YkWEcgh0/s400/Pepsi01.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098271581297535666" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
And this shows the flames.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzJp-O0U1DGPco-0rT-BkYF1l_f8B7iZs4rRRJqgyHnqDsyXB2SKp0g25bBu2D1_Cr8JTL5kzwvIqJR2FVlurDvIZkBNpz9DG-6o7to_Qz8xRUj-sbO19W2bbbhxyFKy57grmrjCz-Fs/s1600-h/Pepsi03.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzJp-O0U1DGPco-0rT-BkYF1l_f8B7iZs4rRRJqgyHnqDsyXB2SKp0g25bBu2D1_Cr8JTL5kzwvIqJR2FVlurDvIZkBNpz9DG-6o7to_Qz8xRUj-sbO19W2bbbhxyFKy57grmrjCz-Fs/s400/Pepsi03.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098271589887470290" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-38319698910444548452007-08-13T12:22:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:39:22.365-08:00Day 3 -- Santa Cruz to Pismo BeachSorry that this blog is all about me, but I'm alone on this trip. Besides, how else will everyone know how cool I am?<br />
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Predawn check of the weather and it's time to get up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVBgB2O7tzCfbOBL36WaBXwNssvDZYXycoux5cx7W3u9ObG6tpOFPLKksFInPysO-fKZlJ4wKkfBQvvyb2-n5QKvu4II5GhGyacU1exmoJ12CebIwhWSHCnzelLWY5XR-eZX415xX-kc/s1600-h/0301Tent.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVBgB2O7tzCfbOBL36WaBXwNssvDZYXycoux5cx7W3u9ObG6tpOFPLKksFInPysO-fKZlJ4wKkfBQvvyb2-n5QKvu4II5GhGyacU1exmoJ12CebIwhWSHCnzelLWY5XR-eZX415xX-kc/s400/0301Tent.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098268201158273666" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
BTW Ihave to admit that some of these pictures are staged, since I'm by myself, and have only the timed release mode to work with.<br />
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These guys were checking out the campsite. The racoons here were not agressive like those I've seen at other campgrounds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbkXZaXNaVa5EynZ-GN_aVD35onlUYT-R0EjWv6LsRz2Jin2YmEX5s1Ejs3yTJAE7CDKiLvGbcDS0iSWOWA8eXyYcURgyBXgC1UUz31eBaOcEAwRUF5sLEKEXjmn7VuH2y2t3iuVDx04/s1600-h/0303Racoons.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbkXZaXNaVa5EynZ-GN_aVD35onlUYT-R0EjWv6LsRz2Jin2YmEX5s1Ejs3yTJAE7CDKiLvGbcDS0iSWOWA8eXyYcURgyBXgC1UUz31eBaOcEAwRUF5sLEKEXjmn7VuH2y2t3iuVDx04/s400/0303Racoons.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098268209748208290" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
This campground (New Brighton State Beach) doesn't have wi-fi, but I realized that I don't have to edit the pictures and compose the posts at a coffee shop, I can do it ahead of time.<br />
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So here I am uploading photos and writing this very post.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj75J3VCqyQvZR2_1vjV63_Q4k3niV4JYH7sQNH483vJPEt42P2t5P7uH9-KM3B0N7Nf7Xhp7D408U5Akf84fprw-d_SBiFpFraXK65YJAa1vDMiB9nAATTewcMO_AuiMRggrIri2llpA8/s1600-h/0302ComputerAtCampSite.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj75J3VCqyQvZR2_1vjV63_Q4k3niV4JYH7sQNH483vJPEt42P2t5P7uH9-KM3B0N7Nf7Xhp7D408U5Akf84fprw-d_SBiFpFraXK65YJAa1vDMiB9nAATTewcMO_AuiMRggrIri2llpA8/s400/0302ComputerAtCampSite.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098268209748208274" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I finished up writing, and finished breakfast, then packed up the campsite and headed back to the 38th street break in Santa Cruz. The waves were even smaller than yesterday and besides it was low tide, which meant that there was a lot of kelp around. But I was here to surf, so I put on the (wet) wetsuit and headed out.<br />
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I actually had plenty of fun rides and surfed until about 11 AM. I got a medium ding following a collision with a beginning surfer's board, so I had to quit so that no water would get in.<br />
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I headed back to the campground, made a sandwich for lunch, had a shower, and rinsed the wetsuit. Hopefully this will be the last time I'll need the wetsuit.<br />
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I'm posting this from Aptos Coffee, and will be out of power soon. I'll repair the ding with my "sun cure" repair kit, then drive to Pismo Beach, charging the computer along the way. Stay tuned.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-75435444323071179802007-08-12T18:24:00.001-07:002014-01-17T11:37:49.138-08:00Day 2 -- Santa CruzA quick bowl of cereal and I was off to Santa Cruz. Traffic wasn't bad, and I soon found myself at 38th street, site of a few breaks recommended by members of the surfing forum.<br />
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The waves were quite small, but every 20 minutes or so a reasonable set would come in. Actually, most of the time I had the whole break to myself -- I guess most locals felt the waves weren't worth it. But I got some great rides. I used the wetsuit but no booties or gloves, and immediately discovered that I needed more wax (booties are less slippery than bare feet). A quick trip back to the car and I was all set.<br />
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I surfed three or four hours until my arms fell off. More of a crowd appeared as soon as I left, and here are some pictures of this break (called "Pleasure Point").<br />
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[Remember, you can click on any picture for a larger version.]<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCKjKpPtrr8nWTfskg9t6N640vrCeYGzcsDc3S7bGvbS6RpXCyMAG3R_wxWScBeem43asbRUnU7zBJ5D8-lDI57Qsnplla6u2FWrvgxZvAGfftPQZ0CHJhjxZjJTbnjNAseYSnib-SuY/s1600-h/01DSurfLineup.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCKjKpPtrr8nWTfskg9t6N640vrCeYGzcsDc3S7bGvbS6RpXCyMAG3R_wxWScBeem43asbRUnU7zBJ5D8-lDI57Qsnplla6u2FWrvgxZvAGfftPQZ0CHJhjxZjJTbnjNAseYSnib-SuY/s400/01DSurfLineup.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097988993924295218" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPpuXt-t8rfXp6dgdPZoXo5D7zOUIUXSqpVZ4neY6d2saa8Mtng8C9-INfGSpOsXCQ_q-I4Zz5IrIamhDxsqLpnCyFlOVTXeuicF4E2kzTDIEJ_VeAUvkM3_CbCPaGttgahBaP7WM8pI/s1600-h/01EGirlSurfing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPpuXt-t8rfXp6dgdPZoXo5D7zOUIUXSqpVZ4neY6d2saa8Mtng8C9-INfGSpOsXCQ_q-I4Zz5IrIamhDxsqLpnCyFlOVTXeuicF4E2kzTDIEJ_VeAUvkM3_CbCPaGttgahBaP7WM8pI/s400/01EGirlSurfing.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097988998219262530" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxrVosxePkPIYaAw7atFA91meQ_Y6krsSe0QuRrawmXtt7R95YHK6hBHjGOuqVKk9cat6W8jhmeKIv9Fdof4OkNV1Tpp3XzauGrlyh-Xnvg_olrBqprQx5uUfvxwauix2QFf5mlxytog/s1600-h/01FGuySurfing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxrVosxePkPIYaAw7atFA91meQ_Y6krsSe0QuRrawmXtt7R95YHK6hBHjGOuqVKk9cat6W8jhmeKIv9Fdof4OkNV1Tpp3XzauGrlyh-Xnvg_olrBqprQx5uUfvxwauix2QFf5mlxytog/s400/01FGuySurfing.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097989002514229842" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
Next, I checked into the campground in Capitola, and took a well-deserved nap. Note the new anti-sun hat recommended by Caroline in the ER forum (thanks, Caroline).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAfTKuOKQ13Pnkh3FhV2ItiAOTlw4xS8wdG1tW30jLOiVNFDpvzIfBNRcCHxhEYFklvsX9-846jeik3W1AC6iCDAAqs3r26-HUPL2Utf3RHGoak3jgInDIDrXjRopkPhc06m7tdu9XwI/s1600-h/02Hammock.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAfTKuOKQ13Pnkh3FhV2ItiAOTlw4xS8wdG1tW30jLOiVNFDpvzIfBNRcCHxhEYFklvsX9-846jeik3W1AC6iCDAAqs3r26-HUPL2Utf3RHGoak3jgInDIDrXjRopkPhc06m7tdu9XwI/s400/02Hammock.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097991811422841442" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
After that it was time to find a cafe with wi-fi. I'm posting this from Toot's coffee shop in Capitola -- it took 20 minutes to find parking here -- oof!Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-5760057112520147232007-08-12T17:55:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:38:21.059-08:00Day 1 -- Drive down to Bay AreaWhat a great sense of freedom to take off on this trip! Left the driveway with Beach Boys music blaring, and all the checklist items checked off.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfTiHcAYypxvGmRw9n2dAh6ClErvkHYxWxJWYrELQmJOQXnvbkOQHP_3FkDI8MCSr0hpdha8lZndHocKDr2rz9-l7uDr79x9BUHf-MstJbyOzg5CWGWEG_KHm508ka1-wkgVCGLqMuwQ/s1600-h/Checklist.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfTiHcAYypxvGmRw9n2dAh6ClErvkHYxWxJWYrELQmJOQXnvbkOQHP_3FkDI8MCSr0hpdha8lZndHocKDr2rz9-l7uDr79x9BUHf-MstJbyOzg5CWGWEG_KHm508ka1-wkgVCGLqMuwQ/s400/Checklist.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097983736884324818" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
First stop was the Chalet House of Omelettes for a fuel up<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBtiC4KT_la-4xWULrsCHDrwqaZI8SLqgFqHKT2NvxstrI5OxVYElkVCbKIh05fO8TxUEI8-iiVe1-oQql7BNYWQ5GOnanB458FvUDqgOmDnr-MKBrnahILg1M76miwrHGIkiO07fPiro/s1600-h/01Cafe.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBtiC4KT_la-4xWULrsCHDrwqaZI8SLqgFqHKT2NvxstrI5OxVYElkVCbKIh05fO8TxUEI8-iiVe1-oQql7BNYWQ5GOnanB458FvUDqgOmDnr-MKBrnahILg1M76miwrHGIkiO07fPiro/s400/01Cafe.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097984265165302242" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
I realized that the trip is the kind of thing one would like to do as a teenager, but without the main objective being finding girls. I thought of this when I saw this T-shirt on one of the other breakfasters:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFI4x3sXUvXBF_2CT8I_W0PQyDpNqSudK9YB_MCo7ghSfTW1zBPINpb3A9eeIcOHbiJcMGZ22inEVXCn8DO9QqJAgiAFg8LsZ0sroqxqsyCHettFNc1beCIEzbfePRHm0pUgUzCqCwuWk/s1600-h/01WantWoman.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFI4x3sXUvXBF_2CT8I_W0PQyDpNqSudK9YB_MCo7ghSfTW1zBPINpb3A9eeIcOHbiJcMGZ22inEVXCn8DO9QqJAgiAFg8LsZ0sroqxqsyCHettFNc1beCIEzbfePRHm0pUgUzCqCwuWk/s400/01WantWoman.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097985588015229426" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
A quick stop at one of Duane Flatmo's famous Eureka murals, and I hit the highway.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZQASnPjsxdY2uL4aBOB3hr7aReSVsowNO0zJruxgQGEe3eIRcrVsxEZpcu91h9Y1WykGCiAxY9Qocac6g2KzQkemwFDMnQWPg3xnOy_0TBcClxXXko_6ObWKQp7qeiul_sK1KhbPX4g/s1600-h/01Mural.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZQASnPjsxdY2uL4aBOB3hr7aReSVsowNO0zJruxgQGEe3eIRcrVsxEZpcu91h9Y1WykGCiAxY9Qocac6g2KzQkemwFDMnQWPg3xnOy_0TBcClxXXko_6ObWKQp7qeiul_sK1KhbPX4g/s400/01Mural.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097985596605164034" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
It took about 6 hours to get down the Bay Area, including a stop for lunch. I had to stop by the my old windsurfing haunt, the Berkeley Marina (click on any picture to enlarge).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQzGGes82OInIj7BXT-AJvJkfNM_BWuFHmOw7xdIh5YgPTrnQHhnBAKZA0u4RhryvYX360Nx1amdY5SSKNU64cJEwC6coW1eu3O4Qxi39kNW5L7C9BIIfhrOqMwzhiA_eBwyq2eAt6X8/s1600-h/01AMarina.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQzGGes82OInIj7BXT-AJvJkfNM_BWuFHmOw7xdIh5YgPTrnQHhnBAKZA0u4RhryvYX360Nx1amdY5SSKNU64cJEwC6coW1eu3O4Qxi39kNW5L7C9BIIfhrOqMwzhiA_eBwyq2eAt6X8/s400/01AMarina.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097986494253328914" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMytlNGBKRpOP_9Wuw3mN3IQV8Icr_epmVTlzztzPpQIa7Nimt-bHqtttMXM9gNgM1qHn26QOarAHdPy-UmW_wYCLSwLLL4mZOc-25g-CeLz65HmTYDUN04o2judmYljATq0ADlUIFk8o/s1600-h/01BWindsurfing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMytlNGBKRpOP_9Wuw3mN3IQV8Icr_epmVTlzztzPpQIa7Nimt-bHqtttMXM9gNgM1qHn26QOarAHdPy-UmW_wYCLSwLLL4mZOc-25g-CeLz65HmTYDUN04o2judmYljATq0ADlUIFk8o/s400/01BWindsurfing.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097997356225620594" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Then it was on to visit our great friends, Berit, Tom, and Sam. Please ignore my expression in this picture.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtH-INH0bZIsQafvXo47GwtXButLayI3cRTKTSBGCjOx24hsnFjLfFAznHiyAUWFVBTw7ao5kSqF33fxcaDyIh_t1wJW9cfOjII9_VTdWDYCOlFEv6RIXQkdqtkuWuTugdAaXhJLAr10Q/s1600-h/01CGamskys.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtH-INH0bZIsQafvXo47GwtXButLayI3cRTKTSBGCjOx24hsnFjLfFAznHiyAUWFVBTw7ao5kSqF33fxcaDyIh_t1wJW9cfOjII9_VTdWDYCOlFEv6RIXQkdqtkuWuTugdAaXhJLAr10Q/s400/01CGamskys.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097988989629327906" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
After a great dinner, beer, wine and talking into the night, I dropped into bed and slept until 5 AM the next morning.Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-81379620371174365432007-08-10T14:58:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:36:16.833-08:00Packing, Part 2Well, I'd hoped to have some pictures of the car jammed with stuff, but I've got almost everything packed and there's still room for more. I sure hope the rest of this blog won't be as boring as this post.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7IvgmDEAU40ezdMZ90p6r_yq6XsQfifUY5qjv4bji4kGBXc8tKjVPpeLE-tUMDC-6lJrU4wrLpm_lxDQaEbHWROqHrmLw5yMI-AkPM0dDwPm7yzFN3rxhSle01UAvda9tFQjMLFl2Uvw/s1600-h/PackingTrunk.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7IvgmDEAU40ezdMZ90p6r_yq6XsQfifUY5qjv4bji4kGBXc8tKjVPpeLE-tUMDC-6lJrU4wrLpm_lxDQaEbHWROqHrmLw5yMI-AkPM0dDwPm7yzFN3rxhSle01UAvda9tFQjMLFl2Uvw/s400/PackingTrunk.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097195283967994258" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvk_dbbii_-kxHAgi2liqaWkp86k4Ue6KmMthiqwoViSlTW78PBxRHCVilIncQ6EjWAxI5bMV4_ouh6VJz5_CZsWBe2PIcrccEXoNV6AtlU6NzVlVf1er9Gx2WoWxq7kK-sAfwvG7j-Nk/s1600-h/PackingBack.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvk_dbbii_-kxHAgi2liqaWkp86k4Ue6KmMthiqwoViSlTW78PBxRHCVilIncQ6EjWAxI5bMV4_ouh6VJz5_CZsWBe2PIcrccEXoNV6AtlU6NzVlVf1er9Gx2WoWxq7kK-sAfwvG7j-Nk/s400/PackingBack.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097195288262961570" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWVjKZ5G8-h1kAvefVDgM5kcwU10elRAiR60FMdbmx-B40s9SU07oz8RNt7_JtoX9L6WHSAFBrXOcFWtwO8ZY9Eo1BMxL3SNAcmpDCBWngksyRcro_WZraKhqyMNcsOVnbXV0OsrcD_w/s1600-h/PackingFront.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWVjKZ5G8-h1kAvefVDgM5kcwU10elRAiR60FMdbmx-B40s9SU07oz8RNt7_JtoX9L6WHSAFBrXOcFWtwO8ZY9Eo1BMxL3SNAcmpDCBWngksyRcro_WZraKhqyMNcsOVnbXV0OsrcD_w/s400/PackingFront.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097195288262961586" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTs8XYPuV0vUSmetzO29eWIshaPVpau1gvX1m9f4lf2GoPh3TdWMY2YKQb5-mzb4o4oqzZlHKnGi12z5tt9TrZAmLarKjKrMHUDw6R4PqOWGrBPH1XrDVqQ_-Iy7q2NyWdpyQHwCegZo/s1600-h/CDs.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTs8XYPuV0vUSmetzO29eWIshaPVpau1gvX1m9f4lf2GoPh3TdWMY2YKQb5-mzb4o4oqzZlHKnGi12z5tt9TrZAmLarKjKrMHUDw6R4PqOWGrBPH1XrDVqQ_-Iy7q2NyWdpyQHwCegZo/s400/CDs.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097195292557928898" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-10776342614695725042007-08-07T09:59:00.000-07:002014-01-17T11:35:47.334-08:00Packing, Part 1What would a travel blog be without pictures of the packing process? So here's a shot of one of the "staging areas."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2A-2TzPtkgyZTqWkkizMMETVUyaDyykQfXakVWja8opZmiiPdCh4ce3uiGeYtNpnutx4r0gRDoBrZJSmA96Y3XIWg2WuVQcBMn7uqGzZKsofYZSSgw07UHXkN1h3Q29nxfHCmJj5NTY/s1600-h/Packing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2A-2TzPtkgyZTqWkkizMMETVUyaDyykQfXakVWja8opZmiiPdCh4ce3uiGeYtNpnutx4r0gRDoBrZJSmA96Y3XIWg2WuVQcBMn7uqGzZKsofYZSSgw07UHXkN1h3Q29nxfHCmJj5NTY/s400/Packing.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096005505012558210" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028975823081480833.post-43303294105356339892007-05-20T08:14:00.001-07:002014-01-17T11:35:23.228-08:00Making a Surfboard BagUp here in the northern lattitudes, the sun isn't as punishing as it is will be in Southern California.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QRPLCIoHjadYHp2Xxc6oz4Rxzq11QD317LYcIndwlAZq2tlAQ86N_ImRcPULHs17Od78JdOYuX8p_9-IT6AZX3dvdmfjjiLVO3faQE4h9nOmHun5Gkf1hloOqaNP1XoGabkJtW-n6MI/s1600-h/FogCar.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QRPLCIoHjadYHp2Xxc6oz4Rxzq11QD317LYcIndwlAZq2tlAQ86N_ImRcPULHs17Od78JdOYuX8p_9-IT6AZX3dvdmfjjiLVO3faQE4h9nOmHun5Gkf1hloOqaNP1XoGabkJtW-n6MI/s400/FogCar.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066679333499777634" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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So another thing I'll need for the trip is a board bag. That is, I'll want to protect the board from the damaging UV rays of the sun. I'll also want to protect it from rocks, car parts, and small-caliber arms fire that might hit it when on the SoCal freeways.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_3nBmwxmJiBeTkq_Su42F6jlwP1lIjFBYSPZCQ-KW0XZkqLhyU_Y7yIo2ARU-TyOrnB9884SHTHKS0coFFNZa9ip3ihtJTXTqpSh_kTRakWOX7jKU_LU7kYjRmOZf7WxLMCqhOLuv6Mg/s1600-h/CarShooter.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_3nBmwxmJiBeTkq_Su42F6jlwP1lIjFBYSPZCQ-KW0XZkqLhyU_Y7yIo2ARU-TyOrnB9884SHTHKS0coFFNZa9ip3ihtJTXTqpSh_kTRakWOX7jKU_LU7kYjRmOZf7WxLMCqhOLuv6Mg/s400/CarShooter.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066680931227611762" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br /><br />Instead of actually paying money for a bag, I took the fleece blankets off my daughter's bed (she's away at college), and sewed the bag myself. OK, actually, I had my wife do the sewing. And she did the cutting out, and the design and all the other stuff too, but I sure saved a lot of money!<br /><br />Here's the final result:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYW5hLXCtavi_Vz2a5eCTBcBRqc2TJCRMWfPNkX0PoFYee32BGfzpxl5zHrrUthV0Azrefa6-Oe4kNgFYWCHyOt8aoI4fDQ47sujfB-w0Jt-pb3Bv4d3H8HuypxOYxfpsc9i6L4ky4dWE/s1600-h/SurfboardBag1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYW5hLXCtavi_Vz2a5eCTBcBRqc2TJCRMWfPNkX0PoFYee32BGfzpxl5zHrrUthV0Azrefa6-Oe4kNgFYWCHyOt8aoI4fDQ47sujfB-w0Jt-pb3Bv4d3H8HuypxOYxfpsc9i6L4ky4dWE/s400/SurfboardBag1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066664339768947250" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyCYYRJS_dqiZ-HecaSXcvIA8xzfFhNGjxNXQLlr0DHlqOzOjzRNV7XKjHaOEg2MSQaXTH4W7Jd1v2rIR1tVRNXTkNq-Zpdq5jMB4ZF9ELaCKWqvNJbJ6QDa29RfjOFa-71Ty8WbplQE/s1600-h/SurfboardBag2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyCYYRJS_dqiZ-HecaSXcvIA8xzfFhNGjxNXQLlr0DHlqOzOjzRNV7XKjHaOEg2MSQaXTH4W7Jd1v2rIR1tVRNXTkNq-Zpdq5jMB4ZF9ELaCKWqvNJbJ6QDa29RfjOFa-71Ty8WbplQE/s400/SurfboardBag2.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066664653301559874" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCrshrqoWDfjYnd4QkqKLb-onkamZ7DtTQ54voIBgDlVX7eENHhj7k5DIPU9Uty8yuddCGo2aDKDjRr_YuDoBUilRmftbV6_eZRTK33de1oBN5_pUVumIS2kgdfj3IVj0sZ_bA55eKcTw/s1600-h/SurfboardBag3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCrshrqoWDfjYnd4QkqKLb-onkamZ7DtTQ54voIBgDlVX7eENHhj7k5DIPU9Uty8yuddCGo2aDKDjRr_YuDoBUilRmftbV6_eZRTK33de1oBN5_pUVumIS2kgdfj3IVj0sZ_bA55eKcTw/s400/SurfboardBag3.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066664786445546066" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><br /></a>And here's my wife's description, in my own words, of how she did the sewing:<br />
<ol>
<li>Lay out the fabric (2 blankets) on floor</li>
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<li>Put the board on top (remove sand, seaweed, etc. first)</li>
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<li>Mark with chalk around the board, adding about two inches on each side for extra room </li>
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<li>Cut blankets (I cut both sides of the top and bottom pieces. Alternatively, you could fold it over the board, and cut only one side).</li>
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<li>Pin the pieces together</li>
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<li>Sew across the seam if you needed two blankets</li>
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<li>Fold over and sew a little "tunnel" in the tail end for the drawstring</li>
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<li>Sew side seams</li>
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<li>Sew the tip (rounded for better fit) </li>
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<li>Turn it inside out (so the sewed part of the seams are on the inside)</li>
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<li>Add the drawstring</li>
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<li>Tell His Highness that his board bag is ready.</li>
</ol>
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That's all there is to it! The bag is a little longer than necessary, in case I ever get a longer board. The bag is easy to put on and off the board -- easier than some knitted socks that I've tried in the past.<br />
If you don't have a family member who is away at college, you might have to buy some fabric. In that case, I'd recommend something in a light color that will reflect the sun's heat better.<br />
Stay tuned for what the board bag looks like after a few thousand miles!Alhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437468787076290123noreply@blogger.com