Memorial Day Weekend in California!

I have often dreamed of California.  In my childhood way out on the east coast, way up in the northern hills of New Brunswick, I lived vicariously through the many antics of Archie Andrews and his comic book gang.  The beach, the music, the carefree scene.  It was so far out of reach that I might as well have been dreaming of fun times on Mars.

So here we were, packing up for my first weekend of Californian exploration!  It was a really cold morning, about 45F (8C), and the wind blew icy drafts up my shorts as I gassed up for the trek.  I had to put pants on for the first time in about a month here in Vegas.  Here in the desert, I realize I will not need a lot of pants or the sixty-five pairs of socks that I brought down with me.  Underwear too, is optional.  Its a special day when I get to wear the cozy clothes of the north. 

Off to California!  Into the desert we go, the Mojave Desert and Death Valley.  Wide expanses of desert across an ocean of sand, with only grey outlines of mountains far off in the distance.  The desert vegetation gets bigger and more condensed as you go, and soon the rocky mountain ranges pop up more frequently and begin to close in around the highway.  We had to make an emergency poo-stop for Zuma so I got to examine one of these giant tree-like cactuses up close and personal.  They are called Joshua Trees and I found it to be extremely sharp and pointy!  We ran Zuma between us to get a little exercise and all of a sudden a great bird appeared out of nowhere, swooping in low just over our heads and then rising up to circle above us, scoping out his nice furry meal below.  Zuma's shiny white, fluffy coat shimmers against the desert sand.  We quickly collected him and got out of there.

We stopped for lunch in Baker, CA, home of 'Alien Fresh Jerky'.  They've capitalized on their proximity to Area51 and cornered the alien-themed consumer market in Baker.  They had an otherworldly selection of jerky, hot sauces, pickled items, a wild selection of soda-drinks, and of course many alien novelty items.  We bought a bag of jerky and a 'Stalin-ade' beverage which boasted "Join the Party" on the label with a big soviet hammer-and-sickle logo.  Upon leaving Baker, I drove back to the highway where I'd gotten off and unwittingly got back on, IN THE WRONG DIRECTION!!  After a brief meltdown and many miles passed I was finally able to negotiate my way out of the traffic and across the sandy median to the other side.  No big deal.  The jerky was fantastic!  We (I) got centered again and were on our way.

Just past Hesperia the highway climbed into a mountain range 4000ft above sea level, and when we crested through the Cajon Pass a most spectacular view of the San Bernardo Valley opened before us.  My heart choked at the sight, the rolling green velvety mountains stretched for miles and miles and the highway snaked down and down, far out of sight into the vast, grey-green distance.  That was an awesome sight!  It was a very scenic drive, moderate traffic, and the Sirius Satelite service which we have for a while with our new car was good entertainment. 

We are driving a new Volkswagen Tiguan TSi right now, and its a great travelling machine.  We desperately needed a car in Vegas and Volkswagen is the ONLY dealership in the United States that will lease a car to newcomers who have no credit.  When you move to the USA, all your previous credit is wiped out and you have to start building at zero again.  You can't get a credit card either, so you have to build your credit over time with cash.  Volkswagen realized the absurdness of this situation, having highly-paid Canadian professionals move here who couldn't get credit cards and who couldn't afford to purchase vehicles, and so created their 'Foreign Financing Program'.  This is a 'for Canadian professionals only' program for those who have come to work in the USA.  Volkswagen just outright trusts that the government did their due diligence in checking out Canadian imports and that they are pretty good people who will pay their bills.  Well duhh!  And so, Volkswagen enjoys their niche market of selling vehicles to Canadians while all the other dealers stick to their 'No Credit=Big Penalty/No Sale' policies.  It was a good deal for us and we're quite happy with our Volkswagen.  The Tiguan is a great little SUV, lots of power to be aggressive in highway situations, comfortable, lots of storage space, and a kickass onboard computer which has already proved invaluable around town and on trips.  And all things considered, this vehicle was not much more expensive than the KIA Rondo we leased back in New Brunswick, but would easily be worth double what we're paying here.  Crazy!

As we approached Los Angeles the highways started getting wider and traffic heavier, we plugged in the address of the Days Inn in Torrance and 'Tiggy' drew out a roadmap for us and guided us in.  The highways move at a pretty good clip, 60mph, and I got to experience the long, arching, sky-high interchanges of my many nightmares.  Many a night I have been jerked awake with the feeling of falling when the roadway gives way from under me, and these structures, like bridges, make me nervous.  What a tangle of highways!

We arrived into Torrance and drove down the main street.  Everything was so green and lush and vibrant, it was quite exciting.  The main street was lined with shop after shop, different buildings of all sorts of styles and colors, businesses of all sorts, ethnically rich and diverse, stretching over the rolling hills side by side.  There was a definite pulse that struck me, that there were communities here, good and bad, that supported all these different shops.  And there were only a few corporate 'power-sales-centers' among them for a one-stop, all-your-needs shopping.  Then it struck me, that is one of the main things I don't like about Vegas.

Vegas is a 'planned city', it didn't evolve like normal cities did.  It grew fast and in a time when all things could be considered in its planning.  It was designed a certain way to maximize efficiency and to meet all the needs of the surrounding communities within their smaller areas.  Especially in the newer outlying areas like where we live in Henderson.  Traffic flows effortlessly along wide road systems with sidewalks and greenery on either side.  Each area of town has its designated residential zones, and to serve those areas you have the power-centers, strategically placed by city planners for maximum efficiency which will always feature a gas station/mini-mart, a restaurant, two fast-food places, a huge drugstore, a food store, and a few other stores thrown in for good measure.  These power centres occur on every corner of every main street and, like everything in Vegas, is painted some degree of sand or brick color and features rock accents.  The names on the signs change, but the buildings themselves look pretty much the same wherever you go across the entire city.  The communities and houses themselves are always walled in and are often mired in their own roundabout street-systems with only one or two exits to the main streets.  Most often, those communities are gated to keep the 'element' out and the prices up.  It is very beautiful, set in a desert valley, and an amazing feat of engineering that they've been able to build such a flourishing city of green in the desert.  But the real human quality of any city, that of the time-honed livelihoods of its residents, is non-existent.  Corporate powerhouses built this city.  They own the land, the golf courses and communities, and the buildings that house the big-name businesses.  You won't find any 'Chez-Serge's Poutine' stands out here painted the blue-red-yellow of the Acadian tradition.  Those places have never existed because it never had those early pioneers of families just trying to make a buck.  Vegas evolved as a greywash of corporate control and structure and because of this, it is a city that lacks culture, human character, and feels soul-less.  Its been only 2months for me here though, so I'll give it a fairer review in a year.

Torrance was refreshingly green and open and vibrant.  No walls, no sand-colored houses, lots of trees and grass and hills with communities built on the hillsides, winding roadways dipping and rising, curving around soft slopes.  Lots of different styles of houses, colors, and people of different nationalities out walking on the sidewalks.  It felt used and lived in and had a real human quality to it.  4.5hrs into the trip, we found the Days Inn and got to our room.... yep, it too seemed very used and lived in!  It wasn't dirty, but it was dark and dingy and very 70's.  The only window in the room had a view of the outdoor, second floor walkway.  I pulled the curtain shut and lay on the bed to let the highway ease off my mind a bit.  A power nap and two beers later I was good to go again!

We headed south.  Destination: Huntington Beach.  It being the Memorial Day weekend, there were a lot of people in town.  We pulled off the main road and parked and made our way down to the shore to christen our feet in the Pacific.  The beach was amazing, and the water was freezing!!  We found out pretty quickly that Zuma is not a beach dog.  The whipping wind blew sand in his eyes and to fix this, he drove his head into the sand to wipe his eyes...?  And to fix that, he tried to wipe his eyes out with his paws...?  Note to self: Don't bring Zuma to the beach unless you're willing to carry him.

I am so envious of the people who get to live there, grandfathered in.  The beachfront community is lined wall to wall with beach houses of all shapes and descriptions, several blocks deep from the shore.  Everywhere there were crowds of people gathered, hanging out and partying, bbqing, drinking and sitting back in garages, front yards, patios and rooftops.  Many of the assembled parties were groups of university-aged people.  Scores of hot, young, tanned women and men seemed oblivious to the cold as they made their way from the beach to plan their evenings affairs.  Oh to be part of that scene...  We were hungry but we drove past the many bars which were overflowing with young rowdies, I didn't want to be anywhere near those frat-boy reunions.  It was enough to be the eye in the sky and move on through, sucking in the energy of the community, a thousand stories running through my mind, all those picturesque beach houses and their lifestyles.

Eventually we made our way back to Huntington Beach Pier and parked to catch the sunset.  The pier and the streets were still packed with people of all ages.  The wind ripped through us on the pier as the sun quickly dipped into the ocean and was gone.  Far off on the horizon, several oil rigs lit up like white christmas trees against the darkening orange sky.  We ate supper at a fast food place and wandered the streets til we found a Starbucks for a much needed coffee, then made our way home and let the seat-warmers in the VW take the chill out of our bones.  All along the way, Huntington Beach was lined with bonfires and campers enjoying the warmth and company of friends and family.  Our bed was much welcomed at the end of a long day.

On Sunday we set out North.  Destination: Malibu, Santa Monica, Venice, and the Pacific Coast Highway.  We cruised up the coastline, an amazing drive!  In Malibu the beach house community skirts the mountainside between the ocean and the road with a wall of garage doors, grand entrances of luxury vacation-houses.  It leaves much to the imagination as to what is on the other side of that roadside wall because you couldn't really see the houses beyond their garage-door-facades, nor could you see the ocean.  I reckon theses are houses that sit on the edge of the world, suspended by stilts and hang over the beach as the ocean devours the cliffside beneath them, and are worth millions.  On the opposite side of the road, a steep, lush hillside, with luxurious homes propped and nestled on every peek and cranny, enjoying a splendid view of the ocean.  The whole area is so rich and beautiful.

We came to a spot on the highway where a massive sandbank stretched from the road up to a peak, way up the mountainside.  Here, cars were stopped and small groups of people were climbing up to the top.  It was very steep, like a ski-slope, and we could tell it was a very difficult climb as some athletic individuals were struggling near the top, sinking and climbing in sand up to their knees.  One poor fellow was sprawled out three-quarters of the way up... or down.  He looked like he could have been injured or something because he didn't move the whole time we were there.  Even when we continued on and came back this highway later, he was still sprawled in the same spot and someone had come to check on him, but he was still in the same position.  Another day, perhaps when the Pacific is warmer and I can wash the sand off, I would love to climb this hill!!

We found a beach north of Malibu where many surfers were out in the waves so we decided to stop and watch for a while.  That was pretty cool!  They all had wetsuits on, floating in the water and waiting on that wave.  I would LOVE to spend a summer learning to surf!  I understand how it could be addictive.  My only surfing experience came on our trip to British Columbia several years ago.  My buddy Boris took us out to Long Beach, BC and we rented wetsuits and boogie boards for the day.  The water was fridgid so the suits were necessary, but the suit made me clausterphobic and overheated my body.  The trade off, which I settled for, was freezing in the water with just swim shorts.  That was stupid.  The Pacific ocean punished me badly that day.  I may have gotten on that board a handful of times but never really figured it out.  What I did figure out, was what a 10foot wave feels like when it breaks over you and slams your body into the ocean floor!  Holy shit!!  It feels like a building collapsing on your body and grinding you into the dirt like the stupid little man you are!  Those were the biggest waves I've ever experienced and after a few of her cruel lessons I was beaten dumb, frozen, dehydrated and crying for mommy!  Watching the guys out there surfing was pretty cool and my blood started tingling, looking forward to trying it again soon.

We made our way south to Santa Monica, but by this time a hundred thousand people were trying to find their way onto the beach and we got mired in traffic and pedestrians.  We decided to abandon our plan for the Santa Monica Pier and go further south to Venice beach.

Venice Beach was a very interesting place.  We parked close for $20 and stepped out into the sidewalk masses with Zuma in tow.  Wow!!  A hundred thousand people slowly rambled by along a wide sidewalk.  It was different from the other areas we'd experienced.  This was the bohemian, counter-culture crowd, dirtier and more carefree.  There were huge wall murals on some buildings, and the buildings themselves looked very run-down.  One huge mural on a building was of Jim Morrison, this was his old stomping grounds.  I could feel his inspirations here, the things Jim used to fill his head with and write about as he wandered.  His name still resounds through these streets.  There were artists, vendors, and street performers all along the way, and bands set up every couple hundred feet or so.  The music floated in the air above the babble, and patios were packed with people enjoying their beers and the music in the afternoon sun.  Homeless people were everywhere, sacked out in the shade of trees with all their belongings.  And there was an army of cops.  They were out in a show of force for Memorial Day weekend and patrolled the area on foot, on bicycles, on pedways, on 4wheelers, on horseback, by car and truck, and by helicopter.  The criminal element lurked invisible to us, but the cops got 'em and had several arrests pushed up against their vehicles. 

Beyond the sidewalk there was a designated bike path where a steady stream of thousands of bikers rolled on by in big rented 'cruiser' bikes of all different colors, and beyond that, Venice Beach.  Wow!  That beach is the widest expanse of sand I've ever seen, so much so that you couldn't see the shoreline for it.  We didn't even try to get to the water, it was difficult walking in the sand and it would have taken a long time to cross.  We weren't there for the beach anyway.  We were happy meandering around the crowd and taking it all in.  Zuma was getting tired and mosied along beside us, a little skitterish with the chaos all around.  He did pretty good though,  although I ended up having to carry him some of the way when we crossed any sand or it got too crowded or it seemed he needed a rest.  He was draggin' ass by the end of our exploration.

People always feel the need to stop and comment on Zuma too, he's such a friggin' people-magnet.  Which is another good reason NOT to bring him on such adventures.  He and I spent a lot of time waiting for Tanya while she shopped, and he would sit there perfectly poised in her direction awaiting her return.  His cuteness opens the door to all kinds of public reaction from all kinds of people.  I really should have had a hat on the ground with a sign that said "Pet My Pet for a Buck!" or something like that.  Jeez, even the men took on that cutesy, baby-talk voice when they saw him sitting there, "Oooooh!  Lookie the little puppeee!"  Holy fuck.

We took in all the sights and activities.  There was a wicked little skate-park, a few basketball courts, beach volleyball, paddle tennis (which I'd never seen before), handball courts, the world famous Gold's Gym, an outdoor boxing ring, a small ampitheatre, and a rollerskating park.  There were many head-shops, a bunch of places selling medical marijuana cards, fast-food places, jewelers, clothiers, and an actual Freakshow Palace who claimed to have a five-legged dog and a two-headed cat.  It was pretty wild.  Far out on the beach a crowd was gathering, the sound of many drummers carried across the sand, pounding out tribal rhythms that had people flocking from all directions to join the throbbing mass.  We decided to stop for a beer and watch the crowd for a bit and were served up an an old lesson about stopping for patio beers, as there were only 'public' facilities, and they were dirty and in super-high demand.  Why our culture has never embraced the concept of the pissing-wall I will never know.  Boys don't need closed doors, they just need society to turn the other cheek and not be so uptight about pissing so that the ladies can have the privacy of their stalls.  If I ran things....  things would be different.

It had been a long day of exploration, and all our sea-seeing had cultivated an appetite for some seafood.  We decided to top off our weekend with a good meal and plugged Joe's Crab Shack into the onboard Nav system and set our course.  We like the Crab Shack, they serve your meal in an orange fishnet in a steam-pot, and you get crab legs of different varieties steamed with spices, a corn on the cob and a couple red potatoes.  Its not someplace you would take a date, unless you really wanted to know what she was made of.  We love it!  Its expensive, but its a good meal and a dining experience you can really get into, all decked out in a plastic splash-garb and wielding cracking and picking utensils to perform the task.  It satisfies our maritime cravings.

We hit the road early on monday, the holiday.  The rolling green hills faded away behind us as we entered back into the mountains and into the grey-brown desert once again.  The traffic on the other side of the highway leading out to L.A. was incredible!!!  It was backed up for a hundred miles, in sections all the way back to Vegas.  Nearer to Vegas it was an absolute standstill.  We stopped in Baker on our way to get another load of Alien Fresh Jerky.  We ended up eating in Baker at 'The Mad Greek'.  Tanya went in to order while Zuma and I waited for her in the shade of a big tree across the street from the take-out.  She came out after a bit all excited and told us that Sonny Corinthos of General Hospital was in there eating with his two sons!  She didn't know his real name, which is Maurice Bernard, and sure enough, he soon came out and it was HIM!  The badass himself!  He looked very much like he was in-character, cool and sophisticated, all decked out in black with his hair slicked back.  I thought a guy like that would have been driving a nicer vehicle, but he was just out with his boys on the way back from Vegas.  His son took command of the vehicle and Maurice slunk down low in the passenger seat as they drove by Tanya and I on the roadside, checking us out while we watched him pass.  He knew he'd been spotted!  If I weren't so Canadian, and maybe known his real name, I might have had to approach him for a photo with Tan.  Sonny would have never approved of such actions, his goons would have taken care of business up front and told us to take a hike.

It was a fantastic trip and I can't wait to go back.  Tanya and I travel really well together, she is the brains of our operation and I am the muscle, the machine, the road warrior.  We have always worked well as a team and we really enjoy each other's company so we have fun wherever we go.  We can't wait to go back out there to California!  There are a lot more adventures awaiting us from our launching point of Vegas.  So stay tuned!

Thanks for reading!

TRJ