Friday: Late afternoon blast down 101. Get gas at La Gloria Rd./cheaper than in Salinas. Late afternoon sun not doing justice to the rain green hills, food and drink valleys. Comida de Mexico grinds, Dos Equis on tap. Sleeping in the car works.
Saturday: 5AM wake-up call for the class. By 1PM I'm certified. Lunch with Ed, Pete and Jeff, chicken enchilada mole especial...KILLER! Slobber chops, fiberglas diesel tanks (that last a lifetime) and big boat molds top and bottom. The fishing fleet came in with a good catch. Tons of offloaded sea food from prickly nets in a jovial setting of tourists, fishermen and looky-lou's (me included). The boyz were in and cleaning up from a two-day score up north, smiles and wind burn all over their faces. Met the old legend and the new (soon to be) "No Country For Old Men" legend.
Sunday: Cruisin' like the do-da men; bitches with hitches feedin' us breakfast burritos and dissing us with the two-headed baby, wrh fire department front bumper pumper, imax, dogs on crack in the onshore wind...one good left and out, landscape that looks like it was painted on canvas, carpet in and a little furniture moving, prep for an early departure.
Monday: 4AM wake-up call, on scene earlier than the attendants but the timer wasn't set for DST. What? No matter, two vehicles and miles of empty coastline. Three and a half hours of offshore plumes on two hundred yard 2-4' peelers. Water so clear depth perception was right out the window. What looked like three inches was three feet. Gravity drawn lips folding over almond eye centers as clear as cut glass sculpture. Neophytes and veterans in awe, never getting jaded by the pristine elegance and simple beauty of it all. A day of days. But here every day is a day of days. Clean, raw or in-between, an inheritance for the seeker.
Tuesday: Back home on 101 in the noon day sun. These rain soaked hills are cloaked in emerald green to rival the most regal Irish coasts in God's eye. Hundreds of acres of wine on the vine and the food basket of America ready for a bumper year. Sleepy former pit stops growing faster than a teenager, sprouting retirees instead of new whiskers. Stop and stretch. Drink it all in. Feel the warmth and goodness of the land. Gas is still cheaper on La Gloria Road.
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