Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Ventura & Jalama


Rincon Parkway,Ventura Calif.

Rincon Beach

Contrails


Halama Beach near Lompoc
 Jalama Beach State Park
Nov. 29 & 30
Having left Simi Valley we got as far as Ventura County when we spotted these RVs all parked along the ocean along a long and beautiful stretch of the Pacific.  It looked like they were enjoying the day and thinking this might be one of those free park and dig it California deals we pulled off Hwy 101 and down to US 1.  All parking was parallel to the ocean so the views were perfect for the Airstream’s doorway side.  Above us between US1 and 101 were the RR tracks as AMTRAK’s Surf Line Coastline rumbled by.  It turns out that this parkway is run by Ventura County for a fee, $27.00/night.  They did have dumpsters and porta potties every 300’ but that was it.  but the views of the surf and huge beach were worth it so we stayed the night.  This pleasant stay was not without its incident however.  The parkway was basically empty with 5 empty spots in front of us and perhaps thirty spots empty behind us and wouldn’t you know it some young kid in a pick up and his boisterous insignificant other both uneducated by their lack of language and speech tried to squeeze in right behind us.  Its the parking lot syndrome - no matter how far away you park from the store in order to have a space to yourself without the risk of banging doors and carts someone will park right next to you.  There you are in the furthest reaches from the mall parking lot and now there are two of you.  What the hell.  More on the  lemming problem later in this blog.  Also, notice how on the freeway as you are driving along centered in your lane when someone pulls along side to pass they actually swerve towards you as if some magnetic force were being applied?  This does not apply to truckers who work on the roads for a living.  Again the Lemming principle at work?  Anyway this kid with the pick up could not back up his trailer and spent about 1/2 an hour trying to get his trailer as close to the back of ours as possible and in the course of his jogging almost hit the back outside corner of our Airstream a couple of times.  It probably made him a little nervous that I was standing there watching.  It was night and it did take me a long time to  learn to back up 25’ of non responsive dual axles myself but at least I knew where I did not want to go.  This couple was determined and the chick was downright hostile when I asked her with all the space in front and behind for as far as we could see Why would they literally squeeze behind us her reply, “Hey we live in the area and this is our spot.  We always use this spot as it works for our dogs.  Hey, and we noticed that the back of your trailer was sticking 2’ over the line but we thought we would be nice and not say anything.  So this is our spot.”  They finally squeeze in and they park their truck perpendicular to our trailers with less than a foot to the windows of our beds!  Who breeds these jerks and why is the earth so full of them?  We tossed our folding chairs in the Airstream and pulled three lengths ahead and I cooled off.  I detest crowds.  I don’t see the joy and abandon of mobs. Even choirs have too many people for me, I find no security in rubbing shoulders.  As we overpopulate we give it up to the ease with which mob packs can take over.  In the definition of mobs I include most governments as well.
Unknown
The next morning we spun around and shifted back down US 1 North for Santa Barbara.           
We gingerly pulled the Airstream through the well kept and tony neighborhoods of Santa Barbara and to the Mission Santa Barbara but did not feel like stopping and going in.  Instead we again gingerly pulled thru main street and sensed the laid back but       expensive ambiance of Santa Barbara.  This might be a place to live in the warmth of Southern CA but a 9000 sq. ft. lot starts around $450,000.00!  That a small piece of land.
Oil Seepage at Halama
Wood or Stone?
We were not sure of this evenings destination Jalama Beach Park since it was 14 miles off the beaten path and 5 more miles from Lompoc and dicey amenities but it was on the ocean had great review especially about the burgers at the Jalama store.  I think the thought of burgers won the day.  We would be isolated as well with no phone service and no internet.  The 14 mile road down to the beach was called challenging for RV drivers by the reviews so we did not know what to expect.  They were not too bad and it helped that that there was almost no other traffic.  But before we took the turn off we stopped in at Lompoc 5 miles further down the road to do some banking, and shopping and fueling. I was surprised  by how large the town was, over 45,000 residents. We deduced it had a lot to do with adjacent Vandenberg Air Force base, a massive reservation.   Backtracking the 5 miles we dropped down into the 14 miler.  It actually took us thru the old California of those golden, rolling, hills.  There was no development and although the hills were not golden this time of year, more brown,  it still was the California of old maybe even as Pizzaro had glimpsed when he came from inland and saw the Pacific Ocean beyond those golden hills.
Mussels
We found a great site and chose to forgo the electrical and water hook ups on the upper level for the last beach site down below.  It was a great one and the beach and ocean was at our feet.  The surf was booming and rolling like the freight train that also rolled along the coast but much further up the hills from this site.  

Looking up to the upper park level I see that almost all the spots with water and power were taken by the big motor coaches with their huge glass fronts reflecting the sea’s light like glazed eyed dinosaurs in formation above us.   It occurs to me that those are the RV’s that are as divorced from the very environment they pretend to want to be a part of.  They are ensconced in massive metal and glass 8 x 13 x 45 feet long boxes with all the comforts of home to the point of hardly taking part in nature save where the tires rub the road.  Along a tangential line while eating a burger (the famous Jalama burger) at the cafe a group of 7 Harley bikers were eating.  They all wore the trappings of emblemed jackets, vests, coats, chaps, chains, scarves, etc.  but the thing that really stood out was their age.  They were all old, out of shape and paunchy.  They were baby boomers on their last legs.  I too am 64 and still dream of a new BMW1200GSA dual sport that I can point towards Alaska and gravel roads.  But I don’t feel like I need a group or even a single companion to keep me company.  I have been riding for more than 40 years most of it alone and I am a little embarrassed  by all the new oldies trying to capture that rebel spirit in their dress and choice of bikes and their need to cluster. 

Have you heard of Sturgis? Half a million  bikes converge in one place.  It’s one thunderous continuous rumbling fart.  It is the mecca of wannabe rebels.  There are a few rebels in the bunch for sure but more probably just ignorant bellicose needfuls.  The rest are boomers desperately grabbing at their diminishing chances for physical mobility and machismo  when in 10-20 years they will have to give up their driver’s licenses.  Take note of the increasing number of 3 wheel motorcycles  hitting the roads with their added stability for those much too old or too fat to handle two wheels anymore.  They are even called trikes!  We are coming full circle back to toddlers.  Oh sure they say there’s the joy of the ride,  we live to ride and all that.  It is just the lemming like mentality that irks me.  It’s mostly sad.  What are we all looking for anyway?  We in our Airstream have been asked several times to join the Airstream caravaners of Wally Byaum, the founder of Airstream to take part in their events.  To belong.  Thanks but no thanks.  It’s hard enough to be yourself.  It’s almost impossible to be independent.  There is much in society that you have to be a part of, that threatens you if you do not participate or share the same need.   With one’s dependence on others inescapable it disturbs me that almost all of us seek even further immersion into this amoebic absorption. 

Do I care what others think? Probably.  Do I want to care what others think?  No.
Is there no difference between me and them?
That’s the rub.
Oil rig
Jo and I went for a three mile walk on the beach for a few moments of childlike wonderment at the infinite variety of little stones.  It was good to spend a whole day just sitting by the beach.  The stars were brilliant last night and Orion stood up upon the seas horizon.  The ocean’s  breeze washed thru the length of the Airstream cooling our brows while we toasted beneath quilts of down. The Pacific Ocean is home to me.  I hope to be within sight of or at least within smell of its salty shores when I go.
Morning's First light








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