50 hour day

Entering Tejon Pass....or my personal heaven (fog and gloom!)

6:30 in the morning...we are up, packed, breakfast sandwich in hand, ready to go. We hit the freeway and it hits us with Tuesday morning horrid traffic? 25 minutes and 2 exits into the drive I pull a ninja maneuver and head up to the 118. The streets are no less cruel this morning. We spend nearly an hour just getting to the 405. Alas, once we reach the outskirts of any major city, it's a green light to hit 75-80 and cruise this 350 mile journey.

Sir Francis Drake Highway Mossy Bridge

I wish I had something exciting to report for the nearly 250 mile drive through a highway that seems to run away from you the longer and faster you drive. The mixture of not being a morning person, not liking the sun blazing into my left eye constantly, and my a.d.d, makes the I5 one of the worst highways known to mankind. Stopping only to use the restroom and get gas, we manage to burn through nearly 350 miles of road in just over 6 hours. Somewhat tired I decide instead of heading straight to our hotel I'd like to go further up and see Point Reyes and the well known lighthouse. It's only 1pm at this point and the lighthouse is only 65 miles away...I plug in the coordinates and the navigation tells me it's going to be a 3 hour journey. This can only mean one thing: no straight roads ahead. I take this as a challenge and head forward.

no, really...after you.

 Upon reaching the last 40 miles to the destination, I finally realize why the navigation calculated this journey at 3 hours. We drive through areas of rain forest followed by beach-side oyster farms further followed by miles upon miles of farm and ranch land with cows spread out over acres of grass. I've honestly never seen such amazingly beautiful scenery. The cows roam free. At one point we saw a cattle crossing sign and laughed...only to stop to a herd of cows crossing the muddy road 1/4 of a mile later. I throw the car in park and patiently wait for all of about 50 cows slowly parade across, stopping to stare at us in the car like we needed directions to the lighthouse. Making sure all cows crossed safely, we continued on our adventure through the historic ranches. This would be a good time to mention that it was now close to 3pm and I had eaten all of one grilled cheese in the morning, 2 nuggets, 5 fries and 2 small baskets of blueberries.

Perfection.

Hypoglycemia is clearly not something I'm ever going to get used to. With bouts of hypoglycemic anger and exhaustion, I kept on puttering and searching for ANY sort of liquor store or cafe or road kill to fuel my tired body. Without luck, I might add. 35 miles later, we reach what seems to be the end of the world. I see no lighthouse and yet there is no more road...but the signs remain reassuring that there is indeed a lighthouse ahead. We park, walk to what looks like a hand written sign that states the lighthouse hours of operation are Thursday-Monday 9am-6pm....closed Tuesday and Wednesday. Of course it is. You know why? Because we are there. And it's a Tuesday. After muttering to myself for a few minutes I spot a ranger and he promptly tells us we are welcome to go up to the lighthouse, it's the information center and the "stairs down to the lighthouse" that are closed. I don't exactly know what he means but at this point we had driven 3 hours out of the way of rest without food, I am looking at SOMETHING. We start our ascend to the lighthouse (yes, uphill) and after a few feet see a sign that says "hike: 0.8 miles to lighthouse", fuck me sideways...this thing is a mile away still and it's all uphill. Oh and it's a comfy 42 degrees outside with a side of wind. Screw it, let's see this glorious light-box.

Edge of the Pacific Coast

We reach what seems to be the other end of the world...feeling like I've smoked 4 packs of cigarettes daily since birth...huffing and puffing...I see a ledge and a wire fence and an arrow showing me the way to the lighthouse (which by the way, we still can't see). This ledge is the edge of a mountain which is god knows how high (and I'll remind everyone of my serious fear of heights at this moment). I'm determined to see this shitty house. I walk as close to the mountain as humanly possibly, practically blending into the rocks and after 20 feet of absolute terror we reach a platform enclosed by the same wire fence....still no fucking lighthouse. The platform seems like a pedestal where Jesus comes to pick you up when you've kicked the bucket. I see tourists with their high tech cameras standing at the edge looking down...I crawl my way to what I think is certain death. I peak over the fence with white clenched knuckles and eyes half closed...and there it is. The lighthouse. All of 4 feet tall and 5 feet wide....at the bottom of about 100 foot drop. Seriously!? This is what I drove an extra 3 hours and risked a heart attack (twice) for?!

Use a microscope. It's in there somewhere.

I simply turn around and start walking back to my car. No longer afraid of the ledge of death or the Himalayan style weather, pissed off and cursing everything around me. Disappointed is not even close to what I felt. After getting yelled at for ruining the air by bitching, I quietly and angrily make my way to the car, still dying of asthma, get to the car and without a word, head out.

My angry and silence got quickly interrupted as my best friend and I spot a cow giving birth on the side of the road. After risking getting somehow killed by a mama cow, by stopping the car and climbing to the side to take some pictures of the baby calf and mom, we head out in search of food (still).

Happy Birthday baby boy

On the way we find a friend, a doggie that comes to my window and says hello, a few more furry cows, and a beach with a few seals...no food. It's 5pm and I'm ready to collapse from exhaustion and there's still a forest to cross and San Francisco drivers on their commute home to maneuver around. I give up on finding food and focus my attentions on getting to the hotel in one piece.

1.5 hours later and a few random acts of delirium, we arrive at our amazing hotel. I see high rise buildings, I hear cable cars, I smell a plethora of foods...this is home. My tank is on empty and the keys are out. Someone please take my shoes off because I am out for the count.

Maybe not. After briefly laying in bed while my bestie went across the street to grab us pizza slices, we get out to see downtown...or as we called it, our street that night. Trekking up and down a few blocks and my tires deflate completely. I'm literally ready to collapse on the sidewalk and nap right then and there. We decide it's better to walk back to the room and call it a night.

I can't even shower or change. I'm on the bed in full get up, with my best impression of a blanket covering the bed. Snoring and drooling. I am...asleep in 1 minute flat.

You'd think this was it?

Heart of SF

I wake up an hour later literally itching for sushi. My best friend is tko'ed on the bed. I shower, change and wake her up with promises of amazing sushi if she just walks to pick it up with me.
30 minutes later we are walking 2 blocks down Powell street (me happily, she...reluctantly). Sushi is ready, we pick it up and head back...on the way back I have a brilliant idea to eat at the tables in union square in the middle of downtown SF with sounds of Powell cable cars, saxophones, and bucket drums filling our ears. This is...a perfect dinner.



Full. Exhausted (still). And absolutely satisfied. It's time for bed for real this time. I hit the bed and 30 seconds later I was kicking in my sleep and mumbling about the crapiness of the lighthouse...a fresh cold breeze from the wide open window hitting my face, it's midnight....I am down. Good night San Francisco.