These three days were devoted to family and doing a few local things. Mixed in was good food and genuine relaxing.
Day 12 (Thursday) was beach day. Most of the days here have been marked by the usual SoCal June gloom of morning and late evening low clouds that burns off in the afternoon, the ebb and flow of the marine layer. Today started bright and sunny, a good omen. The beach destination was Zuma. It was sunny but windy, with whitecaps out on the ocean, and what surf there existed was blown out and choppy. The water was chilly not yet warmed up from a summer of heating. The kids (all cousins) ventured out into the surf. I followed, I couldn't resist the temptation of sand, waves, and salt water. I was the only grownup to test the water. It felt good. My strained calf muscle didn't allow me to venture out with boogie board and fins which was a little disappointing.
On Day 13 (Friday) the whole family went kart racing at MB2 in Thousand Oaks. I had never kart raced before. The karts were electric-powered, quick and nimble on the road course. This was a blast. We did two races of 14 laps each, all family going head to head. My brother-in-law (one of three present) is an expert kart racer and cleaned our clocks. I managed a third place on the second race.
Later in the day, my brother-in-law (the racer) grilled some fantastic tri-tip steaks. Five big steaks was barely enough to feed the crowd.
Below, me pulling a pass on my younger son.
Day 14 (Saturday) we headed out to Malibu Creek State Park for a short hike in the Santa Monica Mountains, an area of coastal California frighteningly close to Los Angeles that has been preserved in a relatively wild state as the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area. The hike was a short one along Malibu Creek. The terrain and vegetation is very similar to that I explored growing up in Hacienda Heights conjuring fond boyhood ramblings among the Puente Hills. The area has some magnificently large and twisted live oaks. We also saw a rattlesnake who calmly allowed us to admire him from a safe distance as he slowly slithered away.
We ended the day at Ladyface Alehouse & Brasserie, a brew pub in Agoura. The food was great and the beer was better.
Later that evening, my nephew (jeez, he's like 28 or something) grilled pizzas, all homemade from scratch, including crust. Super good!
The main destination for the family today was Magic Mountain. I wasn't looking forward to Magic Mountain because at this point in my life, these rides just throw my neck out and frankly, they scare the crap out of me. I had the perfect (and legitimate) excuse to duck out of Magic Mountain with my pulled calf muscle causing some pain, especially with an all day walk around Magic Mountain.
My alternative was to take a drive by myself and do some exploring. The added incentive was to drive my brother-in-law's Subaru WRX, equipped with some special sticky racing tires. For most of my driving life I had driven nothing but stick shift, except for the last ten years. I reacquainted myself with manual shifting by making a drive around the neighborhood, gassing up, and stopping at Starbucks to get a latte for the road. Like an old glove, it comes back. Running up and down through the gears is such a joyful driving experience, especially in a responsive car.
I hopped on 101 north with Ventura as my first destination. Growing up and living in southern California for 35 years, I had never really visited Ventura. Ventura was always the place you passed through on the way to Santa Barbara, Solvang, and other points north. But there was history there and a mission I had never visited. I've been attempting to visit all the old missions in California. Mission San Buenaventura was on my list to check off.
This being a Wednesday, there was plenty of available parking in downtown Ventura. Mission San Buenaventura was my first stop on my limited walking tour. This mission (founded 1782) was the ninth of the 21 missions founded in California, the ninth and last founded during the lifetime of Father Junipero Serra, and one of six that he dedicated. The mission and related buildings are still owned by the Catholic Church and it still functions as a church and school. I paid a two dollar donation, picked up a brochure, and went on a self-guided walking tour. The garden is filled with flowers and exquisitely maintained. I was startled by a padre who emerged right behind me from the door of their private residence as I was taking pictures. I wasn't sure what to say, not being Catholic and not particularly enamored with organized religion, I just said "Beautiful place you have here" for which he thanked me. I walked through the church and sat for a moment praying for the safety of my family at Magic Mountain and a speedy healing of my sprung calf muscle. Weird, because I never do stuff like that.
My next stop on the walk was Palermo Coffee where I picked up a latte and a brownie. I always shoot for the local coffee places instead of Starbucks.
A few notable buildings seen downtown were the beaux-arts Ventura City Hall, formerly the Ventura County Courthouse, built in 1912.
The beaux-arts Bank of Italy building built in 1924.
And the Renaissance revival First National Bank Building built in 1926.
There was much more to see in Ventura, but I had to hit the road and see a few more places. I drove up the coast to Carpenteria. I made a couple quick stops overlooking the beaches along the way. In the cliffs north of Ventura, there is an angular unconformity. One of the principles of geology is that sedimentary layers are originally laid down horizontally. Later tectonic forces may tilt and fold the layers. A period of erosion may occur and then further deposition may occur after that over the tilted layers. That is the story seen in this photo.
Carpenteria marked my furthest northern point. I made an about face there and set the GPS for Ojai. I am careful to obey speed limits (maybe five over) and I genuinely enjoy relaxed, easy driving. However, when a big Suburban was kissing my tail, I downshifted and wound the WRX through the twisty mountain road and left the lumbering beast behind. Whoa! I was having some fun.
I passed Lake Casitas and stopped at a country store advertising the best beef jerky in the world. I picked up a drink and some beef jerky and I was off again.
Somewhere along the way I dropped into the valley of the Santa Clara River and through the small town of Santa Paula. The valley has somehow maintained its agricultural character amid sprawling southern California and probably hasn't changed much for the last 50 years or more.
I took a few side roads, criss-crossing the valley to see what I could stumble upon. I found an old church, which turned out to be the Bardsdale United Methodist Church built in 1898 in the carpenter Gothic style, a beautiful old building, well preserved and maintained, and still a functioning church.
I wound up and over another range of hills that folks from the Midwest would call mountains. Soon I was back again in Simi Valley. I made one last stop at the Reagan Library, already closed but the grounds were still open. Never my favorite president (Iran-Contragate, union buster, etc.) but we survived him and he wasn't that bad, really. RIP Ronny!
We made it into Simi Valley on Sunday evening (Day 8) and stopped at the In N Out at the Stearns Street exit off the 118. I looked down at my feet and noticed that my left leg was quite swollen from the knee on down to my feet. I'd been limping along since I pulled that calf muscle last Wednesday on our canyoneering adventure. Now it had swollen after a lot of walking the Vegas Strip and hours of driving. It looked and felt like a stuffed sausage.
Day 9 (Monday) was kind of a do-nothing day to relax and recharge at my wife's sister's house. The weather was typical southern California June gloom with a strong marine layer keeping things a little gray and cool.
Day 10 (Tuesday) we visited my wife's brother and my two nieces in Newbury Park. We all then did a driving tour up to Point Mugu, stopping at Missile Park and the big sand dune off of Pacific Coast Highway. The kids climbed up and ran down the dune a couple times. We stopped for a late lunch at Hook, Line, & Sinker in Oxnard and ordered up a big family basket of fish & chips, complete with a pint of tartar sauce and a quart of cole slaw. The fish was angel shark and it was most excellent.
When we got back to the Simi house, my wife's other brother and his family had arrived from North Carolina. The day ended with a big lasagna dinner.
The original plan was to stay two nights Vegas mainly to avoid the frenetic traffic of losers heading back to LA on I-15. Hotels.com screwed up the second night reservation so were were faced with some alternatives ... one, book another night in Vegas ourselves; two, head to Laughlin for a night; or three, head straight to LA.
We opted for option two, Laughlin, on the lower Colorado River, another gambling town. We had big breakfast at the Golden Nugget and hit the road. We take US 95 south. The road climbs and passes through Searchlight, an old mining town, hometown to Senator Harry Reid (D-NV). A left turn took us down to Laughlin where it was 107 degrees. My younger son commented "It's an imitation of Las Vegas and Las Vegas is an imitation." That sealed it for us. We decided to push on toward LA, with maybe an overnight stop in Barstow.
We paralleled the Colorado River along it's western side and picked up I-40 at Needles. From there, we gathered speed toward LA. We blazed through the inhospitable looking town of Barstow. It's amazing how LA sprawl has spread to the High Desert. People with barely the means to qualify for a home mortgage bought there first homes in places like Hesperia only to tragically losing them when the bubble burst.
Before we knew it we were crossing Cajon Pass in the greater LA. We made a quick stop in Rancho Cucamonga to look at the first house I bought and later joined by my wife. Times were different then, much better.
We took the 210 across the alluvial fans that emanate from the San Gabriel Mountains ... Rancho Cucamonga, Upland, Claremont, Azusa, Monrovia, Arcadia, Pasadena. Our last hurdle was Rocky Peak before reaching our destination in Simi valley to spend a few days with my wife's sister's family.
We left Kingman in the morning after breakfast at the hotel that included the universal waffles from the ubiquitous hotel waffle maker. The Comfort Inn where we stayed was adequate and I'm being nice. It was kind of a smaller hotel and I suspect of cheap construction as some of the doors were rather ill-fitting. This building was not built to last.
We made a bee line course northward on US 93 that follows a straight shot down the center of a valley known as Detrital Valley because it's filled with, and I'm not making this up, detritus. Our initial destination was Hoover Dam followed by Las Vegas.
When we reached Hoover Dam it was 11 am and already 105 degrees. We parked on the Arizona side and walked across the top along with a few hundred other tourists. The dam is, without a doubt, a marvel of engineering. The Art Deco details are pretty cool, classic 1930s. The modern bridge that spans the canyon is nearly completed. It was $8 to access the visitor center. We decided we'd seen enough already.
It was on to Las Vegas. We made a stop in Henderson for lunch at the Sunset Pizzeria. The pizza was excellent. Henderson is the nice suburb of Las Vegas.
We had reservations at the Golden Nugget downtown. We arrived, parked, and checked in. It's a nice hotel but everything above and beyond your room you pay extra. I decided not to opt for the $12.99 internet access. The pool was closed because of some biohazard, probably a drunk guy that barfed in the water I was guessing. The boys opted out of the pool because they didn't want to swim around with drunk old people.
We strolled around downtown along an arcade street, checking out the shops, kiosks, and the strange people tha Vegas attracts. In a way, it's a rather sad place.
After our late afternoon stroll we drove down to the Strip and parked at Bellagio. The interior of Bellagio is incredible, awesomely beautiful, but like everything in Vegas, it is excessive and unreal. We walked down the Strip and dropped into the Harley-Davidson Las Vegas Cafe. The food was excellent.
After dinner we walked further, spending far too long in the M&Ms place, where you can buy anything and everything related to M&Ms colorful candy, plain or peanut.
We walked down to Luxor, a must see according to my brother-in-law. It is impressive and excessive, like everything in Vegas.
The strip was buzzing with all manner of people. Pretty girls in tight dresses, guys looking for girls, cougars, and even familys with small children in strollers (I don't get that ... please parents, grow up and act like parents). On every corner, presumably illegal immigrants hired for this express purpose, are flipping cards to you of naked women you can have in your room in like 20 minutes, if you can hold out that long. It's amazing that you can walk around with drinks, some with huge drinks.
I don't get Vegas. For sure, I don't like it.
The following photographs represent interesting people observed in Las Vegas.
We breakfasted at the hotel restaurant, the Little America. The hotel interior and exterior is straight out of the 1970s but it has been well maintained. The breakfast was excellent. We gassed up and hit the road to the Grand Canyon.
The scenery outside of Flagstaff on the way to the Grand Canyon is gorgeous, passing through ponderosa forest, aspen groves, and open parks, reaching a little over 8,000 feet before gradually descending. Occasional views of the San Francisco Peaks presented themselves where the forest opened up.
We paid our $25 entry fee for the privilege of seeing one of America’s great national parks. We found a place to park in the first lot we came to. We assembled our daypacks and prepared to spend a few hours touring around the park on their shuttle bus system. Before jumping on the bus, we did a quick walk out to the rim. The place was crowded with all manner of tourists, from obese Americans to Asian women wearing high heels.
We hopped on a bus to get to Yavapai Point, which has a good view and a geology exhibit. The bus wasn’t too crowded but Yavapai Point was crawling with tourists. This was getting depressing. I had been to the Grand Canyon twice during my college years as a geology major, both times in February when the South Rim was lightly visited and dusted in snow. During those prior trips I had hiked down to the bottom of the canyon with my fellow students to spend a couple nights at the Phantom Ranch. The best way to see the canyon is to hike it, leaving the tourons behind as they gaze wishfully from the rim on things they will never touch.
We left Yavapai Point to return to our car on a bus that was standing room only. We couldn’t leave the South Rim fast enough.
Our next destination was Kingman. We picked up I-40 in Williams with a brief stop there for lattes. I had a nice chat with a guy whose son was in Iraq. I hear too many stories like this one, our young soldiers enduring unbelievable hardships and suffering that will affect them the rest of their lives.
We got off the Interstate at Seligman to follow the original route of Route 66, a highway I had traveled many times during my youth from Los Angeles to Detroit and back again visiting my Dad’s family. There is quite a cottage industry that has developed around the Mother Road. Every town along the way has kitschy stores selling Route 66 memorabilia and knick knacks. However, once you leave Seligman heading west, there is virtually nothing along the way except a few fading settlements.
The old highway was lightly traveled and my older son with his learner’s permit got a chance to drive fast on an open road. Within two minutes a bird splattered on the windshield. He also got a chance to pass a slow moving truck. After traveling next to the truck for a few seconds too long in the oncoming lane at the same speed as the truck, I gave the command "Floor it!"
We made it into Kingman by early evening and checked into the Comfort Inn. It was a passable hotel for one night. We made a little excursion out to the Kingman airport where my older son and I did little evening photography. The airport is primarily used as a place to mothball airliners. It was once used as a training field during World War II.
Tomorrow Hoover Dam and Las Vegas. For the record, I don't like Las Vegas.
Sadly we left Moab this morning with little fanfare and some unfinished business, mainly a visit of Arches National Park, which we did not do. We amped up on morning coffee by going through Wicked Brew, a drive-thru espresso place in Moab. With plenty of gas we were on our way to Flagstaff.
From Moab, US 191 climbs gradually to Monticello. The terrain becomes greener and the Abajo Mountains to the west become larger. From there, the road descends back into the desert to Blanding and then Bluff. Always in view are various sedimentary rock units in the cliffs and canyons.
We left US 191 and then turned onto US 160 shortly after crossing into Arizona. We made a lunch stop at a Burger King in Kayenta. An emergency vehicle with siren and lights passed us before we turned into Burger King. I commented that I expected they were responding to an accident that could delay us. After lunch two aid cars were going passed us in the opposite direction. Soon we were passing the accident scene, a car apparently missing a curve and crashing through a guard rail. Sobering.
We made a planned stop at Wupatki National Monument to view some of the pueblo ruins built by the ancient Pueblo people some 800 years ago. Ever since visiting Chaco Canyon in 2006, I've been fascinated by the ancient Pueblo, also known as the Anasazi, but this term has fallen out of favor as it is now a well known fact the the existing Puebloan peoples are descended from these ancient peoples.
Next we made the short loop drive to Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. We were short on time but managed to make a few quick stops. This cinder cone erupted about 900 years ago and the resulting lava flow looks as fresh as if it was erupted last year. This part of Arizona has a lot of volcanic features, including the San Francisco Peaks, which resembles Mount Saint Helens in shape, and likely had the same explosive eruption that blew out the side of this stratovolcano.
There is a fire going up in the San Francisco Peaks and we could readily see the smoke and smell it. Some of the fire burned into a portion of Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. We could see some of the blackened ground but it did not appear to burn up into the forest crown at this location.
We finally made it into Flagstaff and checked into the Little America Hotel, a vintage 1970s hostelry that still retains that look. The room was large and clean with horrid decor that would look good at the Madonna Inn. Still, it was roomy and comfortable.
We ate dinner at Salsa Brava, a well known Mexican restaurant in Flag. My wife and I both ordered margaritas. The food was excellent. I had a gordito burrito. My wife and older son had carne adovado tacos, very spicy. Younger son had a plate of nachos. We went back to our room and instantly fell asleep.
