My first road trip in a long time.
If you viewed a California Google map above the 101 North, you'd have seen my Lexus winding up hills, going through a mountain tunnel near Pismo Beach, careening past farms, cows grazing on brown hills, and in the center of it all, powered by $3.55 a gallon gasoline and a desire to explore, I headed for the Monterey Peninsula.
Tank tops, leggings, running shoes, boots, cashmere sweaters, three pairs of jeans, one dress, a North Face parka were in my evergreen suitcase, sitting in the trunk, next to my new Nikon D40 camera and Cannon HDV20 camcorder.
I wore grandma's diamond-studded gold ring to feel her love.
When I was growing up, I didn't know how much the ring she wore everyday, and the blankets she knit when we talked and laughed, would retain immense value, a value that appreciates each year.
Alone with my thoughts, I decided to clear my head of cobwebs and any unnecessary thinking, and in their place I'd put positive thoughts for the future, thoughts about what I'd create next.
I'd emerge from my trip, a new me.
Instead, I sped and wondered about speed, and I wondered about the faster cars and SUVs on the road.
Apparently, on the Central California Coast, 70-80 miles per hour isn't fast enough.
Big behemouths sped and tailgated, making my blood pressure rise. In turn, I had to be quick with my thoughts. Quick with my pedal.
I navigated, getting out of their way or speeding up. My leisurely, clear-the-cob-webs and discover-myself drive, truth be told, wasn't leisurely.
Yes, I had moments without lumber-jack large and greedy SUVs trying to run me down, and in those moments I found myself flipping open my mini-fits-in-my-purse Flip camcorder, which I love, and held it in front of me. Then I narrated what I was saw with commentary. And when I figure out how to show you my streaming video and consciousness, I will.
I stopped in Santa Maria for lunch at Gold's Gym, and bought a brown tank top, which I don't need. But I like brown. Something new for me. I used to be a blue and pink loving person. Now brown and green are preferred.
Santa Maria is 90% Hispanic, many farm workers live there. Where would we be without the Mexicans? I don't get the politicians who won't give the already here illegals drivers licenses because they're here, helping our lives and economy.
When I stopped for gas near Salinas, I was surprised gas was more expensive than Los Angeles by 20 cents a gallon.
Salinas is near Monterey, and as I took the left turn toward the ocean, flat lettuce fields disappeared and hills rolled once again, trees popped, animals grazed, and with each approaching mile, wind-swept trees grew larger, and before I knew it, I arrived to Monterey.
More to come....
