Greetings from Paso Robles, California, quite possibly one of the most insignificant American cities this side of Lyndon Station, Wisconsin. My wife, Pamela, and I are here for an Al Khamsa convention.
No, we did not switch sides and join up with a terrorist cell; Al Khamsa is an organization for enthusiasts of horses of Middle Eastern origin. As owners/breeders of Davenport Arabian horses, we are part of the group and Pamela is on the Board of Directors. I will have no such part, as I hate meetings and have enough of them when I am at work. Besides, they didn't ask.
We flew into San Francisco on Wednesday, met up with Laura Beeman, a social worker from Connecticut and fellow Davenport enthusiast, rented a car, then drove South on I-280 into redwood country, up a couple of narrow winding roads to the residence of Chris Cooper, yet another fellow Davenport owner, who took the three of us to dinner and put us up for the night.
The next morning, Laura, Pamela and I piled into our rented Saturn and headed down the Pacific Coast Highway. As neither Pamela nor I have ever been in California proper before (I've had layovers at LAX and spent a day and a half at Travis AFB outprocessing from my Air Force stint), we took time to stop and check out the ocean activity. Lots of humongous waves crashing in the surf, washed up kelp large enough to use for a clothesline, flocks of pelicans gathered on the rocks, and even a lighthouse.
We made it as far as Santa Cruz, where we stopped at a Mexican joint for lunch, then crossed the street to check out a pottery shop. The real deal, stuff made right on the premises. The man who crafted the coffee mugs we eventually purchased then notified us that if we stayed on the PC Highway, there was no way in hell that we were going to get to Paso Robles in time for Pamela and Laura to make their BoD meeting. He directed us to head towards San Jose on Route 17, then catch US 101 South.
This took us a lot farther north than we would have preferred, almost wiping out the fifty miles of progress we had made driving down from San Fran. I was just about convinced that our ceramic-dusted would-be travel guide had been partaking of the kind of pot one doesn't sculpt from clay – if you get my meaning – and had gotten us hopelessly turned around when finally we came upon US 101.
As it happened, we only ended up being about twenty minutes or so late, which became moot as the BoD didn't even have a quorum yet as they were still waiting for other members to show...which didn't surprise me in the least. When do these things ever start on time?
Anyway, we are staying at a Holiday Inn Express, not the best hotel I have ever stayed in, but clean and comfortable enough, unlike Hunter's Inn in Guam, where I tried to save my company a few bucks some weeks back and discovered to my chagrin that you get what you pay for...if you're lucky, which I wasn't, but that's all I have to say about that.
So, we will be here until Sunday, then head back to SF to catch an evening flight back to Raleigh-Durham and our car for the 3-hour drive back to Appomattox. I'm already looking forward to home.