Tuesday, August 7, 2012

To The Land of Liberals...

After we left C&B, we pointed our compass back to the West. My passengers were getting to be pretty tired so we didn't get to San Francisco Sunday night, I pushed them as far as I could and decided to find a bed for the night before I had a mutiny...suffice it to say: tired and hungry cranky passengers are NO fun!

The next morning, we drove into San Francisco where I had arranged to meet one of my "adopted sons" for lunch. N just graduated from Cal. State S.F. and I am very proud of him. He and my younger son R. were buddies in high school and N. actually lived with us for a couple of months while his parents were building a house. N. is an awesome kid/young man. Together, he and R were perfect foils for each other as they were just about as opposite in every respect as you could imagine. Both have become wonderful young men.

N. and I at lunch in S. F.

So, in true "C.Chase-like" style, I pointed out several S.F. landmarks to my passenger tourists as we were driving toward Fisherman's Wharf. "There's the Golden Gate bridge, that's Alcatraz," etc. We walked around the Wharf, had a great lunch, ate sour-dough bread, drank wine and ate chocolate. (Well, those of us who are continuing to fight our never-ending battle of the bulge didn't get any wine or bread or chocolate...no that's not whining...much). We bid N. adieu and we turned pointed ourselves North.

One of the reasons that I love California is its diversity. Haime and I with C and R lived in the high-desert part of the state for 5 very short years. It was actually a great location for us because we could be in San Diego in 2 hours, LA in about 1 1/2, Balboa in about the same etc. So we were close enough to get to all of the beautiful places that you see on postcards, without having to live in any of them. The climate is perfect, the people warm and welcoming and...wait, I'm suddenly craving a monkey tail and a glass of two-buck Chuck...oh the memories.

Mt. Shasta
 As we ventured through the Northern part of California and into Oregon, we saw more of God's beautiful handiwork over nearly every rise.

I may (or may not, you know, I've heard that the memory is the second thing to go...can't remember the first thing, but, I digress-again...) have mentioned that on our first day of this epic journey, as we passed through the hills of West Texas, my neice asked if those were mountains. Well, after going up our pass-the-barf-bag-please switch backs on the way to King's Canyon and more into Yosemite and through N. California and Oregon, she is quite sure what mountains look like.

Next stop: Portland and Seattle



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