We woke up to gobbling wild turkeys outside our cabin. We packed the car, tried to get an Internet connection (a slow one – as I described earlier), and ate breakfast at the local restaurant.
The view outside our cabin minus the turkeys that just didn't photograph well!
The fog coming in off the water looked much like smoke from a fire. Thankfully, we were wrong.
We continued driving north towards Carmel and then took 68 EAST (it’s our first eastern route in 3 weeks!). The cliffs and hills changed almost instantaneously, and all of a sudden – it’s just flat (and you can see the reflection of my computer!). As we headed toward Salinas, we passed by miles of workers farming in the fields. The Grapes of Wrath was coming alive…
We went over the barely moving Salinas River and into the old part of town. Main Street is a long stretch of road that heads directly to The National Steinbeck Center. Some restaurants advertise the fact that “Steinbeck at here.” Salinas was John Steinbeck’s home – he was born here, lived here, and died here.
Two worried women managed the front desk of the Steinbeck museum. They were clearly devotees of Steinbeck of some high degree. They asked the people in front of us if they had read any of his books. The answer was a quick “no.” To which the worried women responded, “Well, then you’ll have something to do after visiting the museum then.” We were not asked that question. We were looked up and down (rather the children were), and Neil and I wondered if this was the best idea for today’s adventure.
But, surprisingly, it’s a great museum for children. Alex and Eleni got on a Red Pony, tried on imitation migrant clothes, and they touched a huge pearl in an oyster. The museum is full of quotes and clips from movies and a few bookcases of Steinbeck’s books translated in 30 or so different languages.
I regret that I didn’t take a photo of Steinbeck’s camper truck. For starters, I’m not sure the worried women at the front desk would have approved, and, quite honestly, it didn’t even occur to me. Alex and I were caught up in the map of Steinbeck’s trip across the USA. Several sections followed the same stretch of road that we were on, and I think this gave Alex some version of 7-year-old pride. Or maybe, finally, he understands the madness of his parents and their road trip dreams.
Dad, the camper truck looked almost like yours except that the truck was green. The layout of the inside of the cabin was a bit different, but had the same basics – a table, cooker, fridge, and a seat/bed. In the front, on the passenger seat, there was a statue of Charley, Steinbeck’s French poodle sidekick, who sat in the same spot as my Dad’s dog, Moxie.
After we left the museum, the kids got some ice cream that looked and tasted like play dough. They said they missed McCool’s in Madison…
Like most towns we pass through, there is the older area and then the outskirts of town full of Wal-Marts, McDonalds, and Home Depots. When you see this commercial stretch of land, you might think you were anywhere in the USA, and not necessarily in Salinas. It’s all the same.
We got back on the Mission route, El Camino Real, now101. We left Salinas, and passed a lovely valley of light brown grass hills dotted with green Dr. Suess trees of all sorts and sizes.
Two worried women managed the front desk of the Steinbeck museum. They were clearly devotees of Steinbeck of some high degree. They asked the people in front of us if they had read any of his books. The answer was a quick “no.” To which the worried women responded, “Well, then you’ll have something to do after visiting the museum then.” We were not asked that question. We were looked up and down (rather the children were), and Neil and I wondered if this was the best idea for today’s adventure.
But, surprisingly, it’s a great museum for children. Alex and Eleni got on a Red Pony, tried on imitation migrant clothes, and they touched a huge pearl in an oyster. The museum is full of quotes and clips from movies and a few bookcases of Steinbeck’s books translated in 30 or so different languages.
I regret that I didn’t take a photo of Steinbeck’s camper truck. For starters, I’m not sure the worried women at the front desk would have approved, and, quite honestly, it didn’t even occur to me. Alex and I were caught up in the map of Steinbeck’s trip across the USA. Several sections followed the same stretch of road that we were on, and I think this gave Alex some version of 7-year-old pride. Or maybe, finally, he understands the madness of his parents and their road trip dreams.
Dad, the camper truck looked almost like yours except that the truck was green. The layout of the inside of the cabin was a bit different, but had the same basics – a table, cooker, fridge, and a seat/bed. In the front, on the passenger seat, there was a statue of Charley, Steinbeck’s French poodle sidekick, who sat in the same spot as my Dad’s dog, Moxie.
After we left the museum, the kids got some ice cream that looked and tasted like play dough. They said they missed McCool’s in Madison…
Like most towns we pass through, there is the older area and then the outskirts of town full of Wal-Marts, McDonalds, and Home Depots. When you see this commercial stretch of land, you might think you were anywhere in the USA, and not necessarily in Salinas. It’s all the same.
We got back on the Mission route, El Camino Real, now101. We left Salinas, and passed a lovely valley of light brown grass hills dotted with green Dr. Suess trees of all sorts and sizes.
We passed though a canopy of Redwoods and I took this photo. You can see our purchases from the Steinbeck Museum (we broke our own rule of only buying second hand books that we planned on selling back to other used book stores...but for good cause! We bought a new copy of Travels with Charley: In Search of America (seems appropriate to reread it now) and Cannery Row (Close by Montery is the setting for this book)).
We crawled through San Francisco. It was the most traffic we’ve met on this trip, and the craziest directions. It was our tensest hour in the car.
But, here we are. And, after an almost fateful trip on the escalator for Eleni, we are settled here in San Francisco. Neil just left for his conference a few minutes ago, and I am stuck with the duty of breaking the news to the kids that the most expensive hotel we have stayed at in our lives does not have a pool. I am doomed.
1 comment:
*sigh*
just another pair of east coast elitists, unfairly snubbing "smoggy" LA. might i remind you that you live minutes from newark, NJ?
there are no two places in this country i'd rather be than malibu and topanga canyon. we can address the omission of la from your trip when you return.
in the meantime, i'll be holding down the fort at mccools - so tell the kids not to worry. it will be here when they return. it may, in fact, have a satellite location in summit by august.
: )
XO
p.s. we dig alex's jacket.
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