Highway 1 Revisited

 

I'm going to see the folks I dig

I'll even kiss a sunset pig

California I'm coming home ~ Joni Mitchell From the song "California"

Heading up the coast on Pacific Coast Highway, we immediately turn right at Topanga Canyon. It's tradition. Before our trip, I daydreamed about climbing the winding road that leads to a pocket above Malibu with a rugged but lush forest full of hawks and wildlife and houses hanging off the mountain. Long haired, barefoot hippie girls sit under a tree outside the trading post, sharing an avocado sandwich and laughing while a man with a pony tail in harem pants lingers by the side of the road with an exotic parrot on his shoulder. There he is. We've seen him before. It's a typical sunshiny day in the canyon, and the vibe is exactly what you'd expect. We browse my favorite shop and I snag a long sleeved prussian blue T shirt. It's tradition. This one reads "Mystical & Magical Mermaid. Topanga Canyon, California".

We're on our way to visit my folks who live about three hours north of there. We stay with them every spring break. It's tradition.

I crane my neck driving through Zuma Beach, hoping to spot a porpoise. We jabber about porpoises and dolphins and what's the difference. I scan the blue gray water for shark fins, but only see an occasional boat, a stand up paddler or two and a group of black wetsuits waiting for the perfect wave.

Santa Barbara is a beautiful sight, all Riviera looking, with their white Spanish mansions on the hill and terra cotta tiled roofs. It's a neighborhood rule. All houses have to look the same. All built with the same construction idea. Aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

We spend the next few days hiking the Irish hills, taking turkey walks and sipping mochas on the patio at Linnea's. Phoenix bookstore is packed and stacked to the ceiling with old books and I leave C to wallow in all his glory while I trot next door to the record store to look for the new Joni Mitchell box set. At Central Coast Surfboards, we visit with the kids who remember us as that couple from Wyoming.

As always, we spend a day at Morro Bay with my folks, walking the boardwalk. It's tradition. There are so many sea birds pecking on the shore, and frolicking sea otters, twirling around in the bay. At noon we enjoy lunch at an outdoor patio cafe while seagulls sit patiently waiting for us to leave.

In my parents' house, there is laughter and music and long conversations. In my parents' house it's comfortable and quiet and you can be yourself.

*************************************************************************************************************************** I'm sitting at LAX waiting for our flight to Denver that's been delayed due to a blizzard. We were just walking the Malibu Pier two hours ago, checking out the surfers. A warm California day. And now, it's back to reality. The reality of where we live. Where we're headed. To the North country. The Rocky Mountains. SNOW. So we wait. And wait. For the go ahead on the sketchy flight out of here. You know me. I'm a nervous wreck. But, I've got C by my side. He holds my hand and teases me and makes me smile. That, too, is tradition.