Those Cali Missions are Gnarly Dude

     A lot has happened in the last few days here in SoCal leaving little time to reflect and write about it. So with time to spare before the next train to who knows where, here are some opinions and observations from the last 72-96 hours.

San Luis Rey Mission/Oceanside, CA

     I know as I've gotten older that I've taken more of shine to history stuff. Frankly, I didn't have anywhere to go but up considering I slept through most my high school history classes. But now as a 50+ guy, my interest in the past, in this case the way past, even surprises me.
     Teresa and I first visited San Luis Rey Francia Mission in Oceanside. It's considered "The King of the Missions." By the way, there are 20-California missions.
     Founded in 1798, did I say founded in 1798, what a walk and adventure back in time. The day we walked through the grounds we practically had San Luis Rey all to ourselves. Long story short: a Franciscan Monk named Padre Fermin Lasuen founded in the mission. Like the others, the Padre and other monks served and ministered to the native people.

San Juan Capistrano Mission/San Juan Capistrano, CA

          Next, we caught the 2:59 Metrolink to San Juan Capistrano. San Luis Rey was founded in 1798. It's a child compared to San Juan founded in 1776 by Padre Junipero Serra.
     Like the other missions, San Juan served and ministered to the native people. In this case, they were the Acjachemen tribe later called the Juanenos because of their life at San Juan.

Serra Church @ San Juan

     That Padre Serra who founded the San Juan mission... The picture to the left is the chapel on the mission grounds named after the Padre, where he actually celebrated Mass. The giant, gold altar was brought over from Spain and added to the Serra Chapel after the 1812 earthquake that destroyed the original 1776(ish) Stone Church in the above photo.

     Padre Serra established nine missions and converted about five thousand Native Americans. His personal motto was "Always Forward. Never Back." Padre Serra died in 1784.

     The California Missions returned to the Mexican government in the 1800s. They sold the properties for practically a pittance. It was President Lincoln who signed a proclamation, only weeks before his death, returning all the missions back to the Catholic church.

Encinitas, CA

      Now to the things I'm pretty sure we wouldn't see anywhere else but SoCal.
     The photo on the right is looking south in Encinitas. We found a pedestrian walk-way to the edge of the cliff and then down to the water. The coastline, at least what we've seen of it, ranges from mildly steep to severe drop-offs like in Encinitas and so many other places. One thing we found out, almost the hard way is, cars don't necessarily have the right-of-way.

High Tide/Carlsbad, CA

     Surfers and bikers are everywhere. We saw surfboards crammed into trucks, sticking out the back of SUVs, on top of cars even strapped to bicycles.
     Another thing, surfers come in all shapes and sizes and surfers are riding the waves pretty much from sun up to "last light" as they call sunset out here.
     By the way, a female surfer is called "Betty" and when a surfer's paddling out they do a "duck dive" when a big wave's about to crash down on them.

Winter Flora & Fauna/Oceanside

     If you're reading this, I'd bet good money that there's not a lot of color outside your front door. But not here! Somebody didn't tell all the trees and flowers out here that January's not exactly a big player in any region's growing season.

     The cactus flower to the right is everywhere here in SoCal. Before they wilt, they remind me of what a peacock looks like with all its feathers standing at attention.

     Something else that's everywhere are the succulents. Homeowners have created vertical succulent gardens growing up their outside walls. One day on TV, the meteorologist gave a "succulent advisory" because so much rain was in the forecast. We bring in our pets and tender vegetation for extreme heat and cold. Out here, they bring in their succulents to avoid too much moisture.😊😏

Only in Cali

     Now to the stuff you'll see only in Cali...We'd heard about the drinking straw issues, but they're really not kidding out here.
     You won't get a straw if you don't ask and in some cases people have personal straws they take with them from place to place.
     The sign on the left is from a little French breakfast/lunch spot we found in Oceanside. If you're a coffee drinker who likes maybe a little cream, milk or sweetner, don't expect the usual, little plastic stirrer. This place offers dried pasta to stir your java.

Watch Out Below

     Here's a good example of the many signs we didn't expect to see. "Park at Your Own Risk." The picture doesn't do it justice but that's a steep cliff.

     The ocean's in the background. Teresa and I got out, read the sign and quickly got back into the car. We parked down the street all the while dodging surfers either skipping work or surfing during their lunch hour.

     That's the thing about this area... There's little city after little city lined all up and down the coast. All of them are right on the water with houses built to the very edge. Sometimes, it's a shack. Sometimes, it's a mansion and cliff or no cliff life on the beach is apparently worth the risk and/or insurance.

     And one more thing, we probably wouldn't see or in this case hear back in west Texas or probably anywhere else outside of Cali. I actually heard a waitress use the word 'gnarly' in a sentence. I've heard referenced many times but mostly as a joke. Not in this case. I think she said, "Dude, it was a gnarly somethingortheother."

Bill Robertson

   

   

Bill and Teresa's Excellent Adventure: 5) San Diego to The Top Gun House

     The thing about writing a blog while traveling is; The good stuff happens so fast that many times my camera phone gets left in my pocket. I wish I could show a video of what happened today at Camp Pendleton.
     We made a wrong turn and ended up at the camp's Del Mar gate. No biggie, I thought.

     Me: "Hey marines! We'll ask for directions and be on our way."
     Marine: "Sir?"
     Me: "Hi. We're lost. How do we get on the 101 to get the San Juan Capistrano?"
     Marine: "Sir. Give me your driver's license and turn around after the cones."
     Me: "Oh, okay."

     I got my license from another marine who was armed to the teeth and sped off. About that time, Teresa's added... "That just shows you how authentically stupid we are." My words don't do it justice. These guys weren't kidding. Scary!

Jack's Place/Pacific Beach, CA

     All the above happened before I could even reach for my phone... probably a good thing considering the marine's arsenal. But the speed also applies to finally meeting up with Jack and Allison in San Diego, more specifically Pacific Beach.
     We drove down instead of taking the train (almost a big mistake.) We went by their place which is perfect. It's just what it should be for a young couple beginning their adventure. I suppose at times, maybe many, they argue that bigger would be better. But if I could see the future, I'd bet a lot of money that they'll look back on their time in Pacific Beach as practically perfect in every way.
     We spent our time with the young Robertsons visiting, eating and visiting. We ate street tacos at El Prez and listened to the surf off the patio. But before too long, T & I returned up "the 5" to Oceanside but not before the beach walk to end all beach walks.

Pacific Beach, CA

     We walked a long way on the beach. Then when it was time to get up to the main drag, the only option was the giant hill in the picture to the right.
      If you can enlarge it, there's a fire hydrant. We walked to that first. Then, there's that big truck. We walked to that next. Then out of picture, on the left, is a stop sign. We called it quits at that point. It was a very big hill.


     Our visit with Jack & Allison in San Diego included a lot more but nothing too extraordinary.. just fun. The real good stuff began when we all got back to Oceanside. T & I came home after the big hill and a late supper. Jack and Allison came up Saturday and stayed the night to watch the SAINTS defeat those pesky Eagles Sunday.

The Graves House a.k.a. The Top Gun House/Oceanside, CA

     We had a great visit with the kids, as we call 'em even though they're in their mid-20s.
      Anytime a parent gets time to eat, visit, walk and visit some more with their children is considered a good time. We did all the above in spades plus we watched the SAINTS dismantle the Eagles.
      The pic on the left is the Graves House a.k.a. The Top Gun House. Graves was a doctor in the 1800s. Top Gun of course was a big movie. This is the house where Tom Cruise goes to dinner with Kelly McGinnis after his volleyball game with Val Kilmer. Remember? "5:00pm SHARP!!!"

Swami's Café/Oceanside, CA

     The house is rundown and sits on a hotel renovation site. It was Jack and Allison's idea that the hotel should renovate it and maintain it as "The Top Gun Suite" for it's future guests. And why not? Renovate it... Charge a bundle! Folks around here pay $3.09 for gas, $11.95 for a ham omelet and $16 for half a dozen oysters. Why wouldn't they pay $500-$750 a night for a private bungalow? 😊

     Coming up, sea lions, In n' Out, pasta for straws, the Japanese library & Junior Seau's house.

Bill Robertson

   

Bill and Teresa's Excellent Adventure: 4) Hello San Diego

     It's not exactly around the corner, but the rigors of our three day, 1,116.3 mile drive to San Diego seemed like a piece of cake once we got our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean.

Follow the Blue Line to the Beach

     Teresa visited the big ocean many years ago with her California family. I spent about 45-minutes on Huntington Beach a few years back when baby son Joe was involved in a high school program in Anaheim.

     To use the west coast vernacular, we drove in on "The-8," merged onto "The 805" and then headed north on "The 5." I don't know why folks in the west put an article (the) before each highway number, but they do.

    We quickly found out, whether it's I-5 or "The 5," we don't want any part of it. Apparently, the 75-mph speed limit is just a suggestion. Teresa drove a bit and it went like this....
Me: "How fast are you going?"
T: "85."
Me: "Slow down. The speed limit's 75."
T: "I don't care. They're gonna run over us if I go any slower!!"
Me: "Ok. You're a rule breaker."
T: "I am."

     Call it Kismet, fate or just plain good luck but we couldn't have timed our arrival any better to our place in Oceanside which is about 20-miles north of San Diego.

Oceanside Pier/Oceanside, CA

 
     See that pier?  There's a pretty good café way down at the end. I have no idea how they get the food out to it, but they do. I wouldn't call their menu life changing, but a pretty decent burger and fries combined with the Pacific as far as the eye can see makes/made for a great first impression.

     The icing on the cake for our arrival would come a few hours later just as the sun was setting.  Turns out every Thursday, that's EVERY, SINGLE THURSDAY... The city hosts a morning farmers market and then a sunset market.

Sunset Market/Oceanside, CA

     The night we arrived, an organizer told us they had 87-vendors that evening. He said in the summer when the crowds swell that the vendors easily increase to about 200.
     Teresa and I grazed our way through the market last Thursday. We started with Paella. Then we sampled a chicken Puck. A puck is a perfectly round meat pie kind of food. After that, Teresa settled for Tempura Shrimp and I gave a Kenyan Beef with Coconut Rice and Blackeyed Peas dish a try.
     The Kenyan food was a first. It really wasn't too bad, but I couldn't shake the coconut smell for about 48-hours.

     I'm pretty sure we couldn't have asked for anything more for our first night in SoCal. We thought we'd wonder and people watch after our global-gastro experience but the road and miles caught up to us very quickly. We called it a very early night to greet another day.

Bill Robertson
   

   



   

   

   

Bill & Teresa's Excellent Adventure: 3) The 3:10 to Yuma

     This blog title has nothing to do with the time we left for Yuma. It just seemed a fun way to give readers a ballpark idea of where were going next. For those who don't know, "The 3:10 to Yuma" was first a 1957 movie starring Glen Ford and later a 2007 re-make starring Russell Crow ("Gladiator") and Christian Bale ("Vice".)
     But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Before T & I ever left Tombstone we met a great couple from California.

Mischa & Jennifer Mayfield

     We met Mischa and Jennifer Mayfield at our hotel in Tombstone. Before we knew it, we unintentionally met up with them again for supper at Tombstone's #1 restaurant Big Nose Kate's Saloon. On a side note, Tombstone really needs to ramp up its food game, especially if Big Nose's place is #1... Whew, not too good.
     Bottom line is Mischa works/worked as a locomotive mechanic. Jennifer works/worked for Hewlett Packard. Needless to say, we enjoyed our visit A LOT MORE than our food. I asked important questions like "What happened to the caboose" and "If an engine is going backwards, is it still pushing or pulling the train?" The answers are, the caboose is still exists but not as necessary as engineers now have restrooms inside the big engines and yes... an engine going forward or backwards is still pushing or pulling the train. We both left Tombstone the next day. They went north. We went west.

Da' Boyz/Yuma, AZ

     I'll get to our absolutely spectacular dinner experience in a paragraph or two. But first, the drive to Yuma is/was BRUTAL.
     Driving out of Tombstone is actually quite pretty thanks to the Saguaro National Park. The cacti are truly phenomenal. Check out https://www.nps.gov/sagu/index.htm.
     But after that... oh my. We had to cross a mountain range that included signs like: 'Turn off A/C so not to overheat.' If that wasn't enough they had 'Radiator water barrels' about every two or three miles. Once we were on the other side and made a pit stop, we were very grateful we didn't need gas.

Gas in the Sonoran Desert

   
     Yep, you're seeing right. Cheap gas somewhere in the Sonoran Desert was $4.19 per gallon. Thank goodness, all we wanted was a restroom and some bottled water!
     Once we were out of the desert and cruising west toward Yuma the scene changed from rugged and rocky to flat, green and purple. We didn't know what we were seeing. Simultaneously, we kept seeing big white buses. All of them were hauling two porta-potties.
     First, we figured out the green and purple. Then, we passed close enough to a bus to read the small print.
     The green and purple were different kinds of leafy greens/vegetables. LETTUCE!! Teresa googled the area. Turns out, the Yuma valley produces 95% of the leafy vegetables we eat in the winter.
     The sign on the side of the white buses read: "Field Workers Transport." The buses were used to haul workers to and from the many, many produce fields.

     Now to that surprisingly great dinner and a movie in historic downtown Yuma. We walked to a place called Da' Boyz, an Italian place in the historic district which runs as perpendicular as it can from the winding Colorado river.
    There's a restaurant expression that goes: Everybody eats first with their eyes. The cliche' is, 'My eyes were bigger than my stomach.' We definitely ate first with our eyes, but not in the over-stuffed kind of way.
    But first, our drinks. It's so nice to have choices. Teresa ordered a white wine. The house was C.K. Mondavi. We'd never heard of it. Unfortunately now, we can't find it. It was crisp and so mild. There was absolutely no hint of that twangy after taste. I told the waiter that I'd like a draft beer.
Me: "I'm a pilsner guy preferably with a low ABV (Alcohol by Volume.)"
Waiter: "Sir, we have 21-beers on tap."
Me: "Ok, just pick one that you think I'll like."
     I have no idea what beer I had but cold, creamy and light like water would be a good description.

     Now to eating with our eyes. We watched table after table gets these big salad bowls. Each one came with multiple plates and big tongs.
Us: "What's that?"
Waiter: "Oh, that's our house garden salad. That's the small."
Us: "That's the small?!!! We'll take one, please."
     Talk about plain and perfect! I think it was $6.99 but enough crunchy iceberg mixed with shaved carrots and pepperocinis for at least five, much less just the two of us. My bleu cheese dressing was thick enough to spread.
    Next, absolutely perfect lasagna. I have no idea how they made this plain dish so perfect but they did. It was the kind of lasagna that after eating all the big stuff... pinches of the fresh bread were in order to swab up any sauce. The morsels of beef and sausage had that taste that had us wanting more, but completely satisfied.
     Yuma, Arizona... who knew? Great Italian food. Combine the food, the service, the portions, the price with our seats on the patio and Da' Boyz gets a minimum of two thumbs up!
     We decided to stop at the downtown movie-plex for a flick after our feast. We saw Clint Eastwood's new one, "The Mule." Sorry, but I can't enthusiastically recommend it. I'd watch it again for free, but I wouldn't pay for it.

     Next stop, Oceanside California. SoCal! Jack & Allison, surfers, sand, sea lions and a really good bakery.

Bill Robertson

     
     

Bill & Teresa's Excellent Adventure: 2) The Town Too Tough to Die, Tombstone, AZ

     If our quick stopover to Alamogordo was less than impressive, we thought our next stop would be guaranteed fun. It was, but it wasn't, but it should be and could be. We stopped in Tombstone, Arizona, the town too tough to die.

Tombstone, AZ

     We figured that since we were driving half way across the country anyway, why not stop and see this legendary city?
     I think the key word in the above sentence is 'legendary.' For me, anything affiliated with a 'legend' is old. Of course, old is not a bad thing. But I wonder as our nation's older population gets even older will the things that are legendary be forgotten and eventually erased?

     My point is, Tombstone still means a great deal to the 50-85+ year old demographic. But based on the ages of the people we saw in' the town too tough to die'.... Tombstone might not be dead, but it definitely appears on life support for anyone younger.

Tombstone Newspaper

     The picture on the right doesn't show it very good, but if you look at the headline below the big picture it reads: "Hope for town's future."
     The article states: "Tombstone business owners are uncertain about the future." There's plenty of optimism throughout the article but even a lifelong Tombstone resident and business owner admits, "It's not as good as it used to be... There's less people."
     We saw exactly what she means. During our visit, our hotel was almost empty, our restaurant for supper was practically empty and when we left after eating,,, Tombstone's most famous street, Allen Street, looked like a ghost town and it was only 8:30ish at night.

Historic Allen St./Tombstone, AZ

     My takeaway from Tombstone is/was 'the town too young to die' is both wonderful and borderline pitiful.
     It's wonderful because I'm old enough to appreciate the history and old enough to live in a different speed zone, but barely.
    What I mean is, I'm at the bottom of the 50-85+ age demo who doesn't need fast paced entertainment. Our demographic is willing to read, wonder and imagine even if the town's trimmings have become a little folksy and corny.
     But I feel it would be the rare 25-50-year old who would take Tombstone seriously.
     Tombstone's town fathers have done a fantastic job of placing historical markers up and down the streets once sauntered by outlaws, whores, gamblers and lawmen. There may be many younger people who will take the time to stop and read, but I'd wager many, many more young people will not find Tombstone appealing nor interesting. Ironically, I feel Tombstone's existing efforts to preserve and display our country's western history are too rudimentary for the 21st century.

World's Largest Rose Tree/Tombstone, AZ

     The picture to the right is the World's Largest Rose Tree. It's in Tombstone in the back of a building that houses a museum of one of Tombstone's first families.
     The afternoon we visited, we were the youngest visitors by at least 10-15 years. By the way, there were only two other visitors at the museum during the hour we toured the site.

     I think for Tombstone to see more visitors they need to modernize their history. That sounds completely contradictory, but if businesses want more business they need to make it not only entertaining, but also easy for the next generation of visitors. But how?

Wyatt Earp/Tombstone, AZ

     If Wyatt Earp were to call me from his grave and ask, "Bill. This is Wyatt. I've noticed fewer people are visiting Tombstone. Got any ideas?"
     Here's what I'd offer in no particular order although my ultimate point would be.... You gotta update and think like the 25-50 year olds.
     1) Keep almost everything so not to upset the 50-85+ group still alive, able and interested.
     2) Create a Tombstone app.
     3) Make every historical marker I-T friendly so younger people can click n' listen versus read
     4) Think BIG. Create some holograms at the markers so younger visitors can not only hear, but actually see the lawmen, outlaws and whores.
     5) Create a variety of focus groups: 25-50 years old Americans.... An Asian group... An English group... And a European group.


     The Tombstone Epitaph article begins with this declarative: "Video games like "Red Dead Redemption" and TV shows like "Westworld" are among the most popular today. The allure of the wild west is alive and well." Tombstone business owners, city organizers and townspeople there's your answer.

Bill Robertson

Bill & Teresa's Excellent Adventure: 1) On the Road Again!

     Seems like when you have grown children who live out of town, much less out of state, there are two choices when it comes to visiting/seeing them. Number One is, you pay for them to come to you. Or Number Two, you pay to go see them. There's obviously a third option but it's not applicable, at least on my side of our blended family.
     Teresa and I, at least for now, are pretty much handcuffed in the Number Two category. So, we are off again. This time, we're on the road to the west coast, specifically the San Diego area, to see son Jack and new daughter-in-law Allison. They moved west after their June wedding in Nashville.

Jack & Allison/Nashville, TN

     The long story short is: We're here! We drove from Snyder, America to San Diego, specifically Oceanside. It took us three, almost full days of driving which means we had a scrapbook full of stories before we ever saw the ocean.

     There are lots of ways to tell a story, but I'm mostly a linear thinker. Subsequently, I'm going to start at the beginning. And like most of our adventures, the beginning  for T and me usually includes something new, something weird, something we wouldn't do again and a couple of new friends or at least Facebook friends.


     Day One: We left Snyder mid-morning Monday bound for Alamogordo, NM. We intentionally broke up our multi-day drive into six-seven hour drive time increments. Many years ago, we'd drive 13-15 hours straight to see kids in Tennessee or Arizona (T's daughter's family.) We don't do that anymore.
     About the only thing we found interesting or fun driving to "Alamo," as the locals call it, was the Delaware Basin stretching between Lovington and Artesia, NM. The area's smothered in oil wells as far as the eye can see... Pumpjacks GALORE!! The scene looked like something out of a movie. I spoke to my cousin, who's a NM realtor. He told me that most of the many, many wells are on state land. He added that the black gold is killing or injuring many people because the tanker truck drivers are crashing into innocent drivers at an alarming pace. That dangerous fact explained the uncanny number of roadside billboards advertising attorneys with slogans like: "Injured in a truck crash? Call attorney John Doe."
     "Alamo" was completely forgettable except for a very slow elevator and a really weird guy at the nearby restaurant. But the weird guy's are own fault. We said we'd never do it, but we did. We sat at the bar. Within minutes and for the next hour, we regretted it.
     This guy came in through a side door and suddenly appeared seated next to us. We were newly on the road and excited. So, we/I struck up a conversation. Before we/I knew it, this now completely creepy guy became the 'close-talker' we couldn't shake. Of course, we could've picked up our plates and moved. We didn't. Our new motto is: Never sit at the bar! Or as T will say, "Don't make eye contact and Bill, you don't have to talk to everyone!"
     Next stop, the town too tough to die,,, Tombstone, AZ. Great in so many ways. Really great, but I'm pretty sure dying on the vine.

Bill Robertson