Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Mindless amusements.

I'm going to loose my steam if I don't get these posts out soon. So, back on my beach weekend.

I think we were up by Cloverdale Ca., on the 101. I turn to Mr S. and say "what is up with this freeway? It's the best freeway I've ever been on. You could Rollerblade on this thing it's so smooth and freshly blacktopped. At least I know my tax dollars are being spent somewhere". The road was like that for at least 10 miles.

It was soon after that Mr S. turns to me and says "hey, this segment of the freeway was adopted by the Medical Marijuana Coalition". Which made us both laugh.

You see in California, we have signs everywhere on the freeways that tell you who helped pay for repairing segments of the roads. I would have turned around and gotten a picture, but I'd already been driving a few hours.

Anyway.. I thought it was really funny the potheads had chipped in. It was a spectacular road after all.

Next. Up North there are apparently a lot more hitchhikers than I'm used to. And I lived in Santa Cruz for a while. In The Valley, no one hitch hikes anymore - but it isn't like you can't go places and still see the culture. Even more surprising was the amount of women hitch hikers. In 20 miles we saw 3 different girls hitch hiking. And they weren't with a group. Just by themselves. I'm guessing these girls were largely unaffected by horror films. Which brings me to my next topic.

I apparently am very affected by horror films. Even though its probably one of my least favorite genres. When we left Fort Bragg, we were sitting on a quarter tank of gas. Since the gas was so pricey there, we figured we'd just drive 10 or 20 miles and fill up in the next town.

We started back on The Pacific Coast Highway with the hope it wouldn't be as extravagantly twisty as the route we took to the beach. It wasn't. But, it was deeply darkly forested with few signs of civilisation. And, no cell phone coverage. Yeah! Horror film central.

We did eventually reach a town called Navarro. Which was straight out of a movie. A little store. Mini gas station, and campgrounds. With country music emanating and filling the canyon. They also had this out front.


  1. EEEEEE!!!!
    When you stopped for gas, did someone ask you:
    "Jes' stoppin' thru?"

  2. Ha! That is super funny. But, no.

    Although.... Mr S. had gone off to find the restrooms - which BTW I noticed had two cats guarding them - this woman pulled up in a, this decade, Honda that was blasting some bluesy music. The place couldn't be a better movie representation.

    I was minding the pump. I couldn't help but notice her car was too new for the area. But, on the way back we'd expected to find a restaurant. It was the PCH after all. I decided to ask "are you from this area"? Which in retrospect to complete the cliche I should have said something like "are you from around these parts"?

    She did live there though.

    Anyway.. Mr S. gets back, and I tell him about trying to find us a restaurant. I tell him the woman said there was a Mexican restaurant down the way called Libbys.

    Really? Libbys - he said. Then chuckled and made some comment about it sounding really authentic.