DAY TWO
Marcus:
You join us at the Holiday Inn Express near Oakland Airport.
Buttercup:
For those of you who are wondering, this was a very nice hotel and a very nice room! Way nicer than the Holiday Inn we stayed at near DL. The Captain and I stayed in a Holiday Inn Express room on the other side of the country, a month before, for one night, and based on that stay and this, Id say HI Express is my new favorite chain.
The rooms are very deluxe, with real looking furniture, a nice desk, high speed internet access, a refrigerator and a microwave, a sink, a great tv system with streaming cds to listen to (I would almost hang out in the room to catch up on some 80s favorites I havent heard in years!), and a decent coffee maker. The only thing that sucks is the teeny tiny bathtub and shower. Its too hard to fit two people in there.
Marcus:
We leisurely wake up around 10am Pacific Time and remain cuddled for a while. With the 11am checkout time bearing down on us like a freight train, around 10:30, Buttercup yawns and stretches, and says to me, "Ok, it's 10:30. You can tell me what we're going to do today now." I say, "Well, my idea for today is to take a drive down the Pacific Coast Highway." She immediately is excited, saying that that was something she always wanted to do, and can't believe that I actually picked that without even knowing that she wanted to do it.
Actually it doesn't surprise me that I picked something that she always wanted to do. Buttercup and I think alike lots of the time. In fact our second choice of what to do today would also have been the same - a visit to Muir Woods.
But the PCH it's going to be! So then Buttercup asks me, "How far down the coast does that go?" I reply, "I'm not sure, but I think it goes all the way to L.A." She says, "But we're not going that far." Then I reply "Oh, yes we are." By now, Buttercup can hardly contain herself. She says "We're going to L.A.??? We're going to
Disneyland? Are we going to DISNEYLAND???!!!" With a gleam in my eyes, I simply give a big nod yes. Buttercup then starts bouncing up and down and says, "Well, hurry up, let's go, let's GO!" and practically drags me out of bed.
Buttercup:
Hey ladies, how about that man of mine? I actually hit him with a pillow and yelled GET OUT when he told me about driving down the PCH. Ive always wanted to do that! I planned like a whole dream trip, that I just knew Id never get to go on, and was resigned to leaving as a faraway fantasy, forever, that included a drive all the way up Route 1. And now he had made it come true! I couldnt believe he didnt Google old posts to see me talking about it, but he didnt. Hes right that we think so much alike, its freaky. If you put us in a room with 100 objects, and asked us to pick our favorites, wed end up with about 85% of the same choices, Im convinced.
So I thought that was all there was to it, I mean, thats enough, right? And then he pops the Disneyland thing on me! My itinerary from Southworst said I was leaving from Oakland at a ridiculously early time in the morning, if you remember from Day One. I had been really bummed out about that. Well, now it turns out if Id looked closer, the date was some time in March for that return flight. I had been so bummed when I saw the time I was leaving, I never looked closer, I just stuffed it in my backpack and tried to forget about it, and focus on the good stuff! LOL
So now Marcus told me he was just going to cancel that flight and bank the funds (gotta love Southwest), and had other tickets for us out of L.A. as late as possible on Tuesday, that I hadnt seen yet.
I picked up the pillow and whacked him again for the Disneyland revelation. You know I said GET OUT! before it ever showed up on that Seinfeld show? Marcus says I remind him of Elaine a little bit. Well, maybe so, but I didnt hurt him, hitting him with the pillow twice, or knock him off the bed or anything.
Marcus asked me if I still wanted to do some of the Berkeley/San Francisco things Id named before, and I was like, hell no, what are you waiting for, lets hit the road! But I was amazed, again, to find that both of us for a second choice of what to do in the area would have been the Muir Woods. We both have a kind of spiritual connection to forests.
Marcus:
We get out of the room, I think in time for the 11am checkout time and bound outside into the balmy, sunny air and hop in the Mustang. Buttercup wants to put the top down, but I think that it'll be too chilly at highway speed, plus I can't figure out how to get it to go down anyways, so we decide to leave it up and hope for a warmer day in L.A. when we can ride around in SoCal with the top down. I get my laptop booted up with the GPS program running and plot a course to Monterey where we'll pick up the Pacific Coast Highway.
Buttercup:
It was disappointingly cold this whole trip. I kept saying, isnt this supposed to be Southern California? We are going to have to buy that car someday, so I can drive it with the top down to my hearts content. I loved it. Well, *I* am going to have to buy that car, because Im not sure I want to share.
Marcus:
Buttercup is hungry shortly after we get on Interstate 880 South, and I could go for breakfast. We see an IHOP sign up ahead, so I "hop" off the freeway. I love pancakes with some kind of syrup other than maple on them. The sign leads us into a huge shopping center still half under construction. After an eternity of driving around in the parking lot, there's no IHOP in sight. It must not have been built yet, and the joke was on us. There's a Denny's just on the other side of the highway, so we end up going there. It always seems that Buttercup and I end up at Denny's during our trips. I hope that isn't a trend that continues.
We get seated without a lot of fuss, but after 15 minutes no one has waited on us yet. Buttercup is hungry enough now that she's starting to get impatient, and she says if nobody waits on us soon, we're leaving. Finally she spies a waitress and snaps her fingers to get her attention. The waitress, who isn't assigned to our table, comes over and apologizes and offers to get us our drinks, which we order. Then as soon as she leaves, our waitress comes over and asks if she can get our drinks. Buttercup tells her, "Oh, no, somebody already got our drink order, but...." Just as Buttercup tries to tell her that we'd like to order our food now, the waitress disappears again, as if by some kind of malevolent magic. Feeling like it'll be another half hour before our food order gets taken now, I start to get ticked off, which Buttercup notices immediately. I say, "You should have never told her we already got our drinks, now it'll be forever before we get our food order taken." I was feeling that our precious hours of daylight, to be spent viewing the spectacular scenery along the Pacific Coast Highway will be wasted sitting inside this sordid restaurant. But happily I'm incorrect about that, as the original waitress who took our drink orders returns and takes our food order, and ends up taking care of our table the rest of the time we're there.
Buttercup:
Weve renamed Dennys Dennyeven Think About Stopping Here. And the nonexistent IHOP was just cruel.
Marcus:
Finally we get back on the road, and take 880 south to California 101 toward the coast. We stop at a K-mart in Salinas to pick up some sodas and other supplies, and I also stop at a gas station to get a cigarette lighter which we'll need to light up the "girl candles" as Buttercup likes to call them - they're scented and matching, unlike the "guy candles" I brought on our last weekend together.
The "guy candles" even featured a candleholder I made myself in shop class years ago - but I digress. Anyways, at least now we'll be able to light the candles for a more romantic atmosphere in the room once we get to Anaheim.
Buttercup:
Marcus boy candles were a hoot. My girl candles were from Pier One.
Marcus:
A short run down California Route 68 takes us to Seaside and Monterey. The view is beautiful already, and we're not even on the PCH yet. Buttercup can't stop commenting on how awesome the scenery is.
As soon as we get onto the PCH, the rocky shoreline of the Pacific comes majestically into view. We pull off into a parking area to get out and take pictures of each other standing on the gateway of the Pacific Ocean. The warm weather we had farther inland has yielded to a chill seabreeze and clouds, but the sights are still stunning. We continue on our way, making several more stops to take pictures. Around Big Sur, the sun begins to burn through the clouds and the verdant greens of the hillsides bloom into all their splendid color. We stop at another wide spot in the road, and Buttercup asks another couple there to take our picture together standing at the edge of the mountain slope.
Buttercup:
This area is very very beautiful, but also very isolated. And cold! And cloudy. Surprisingly, we never saw a single sea lion. I did see the tops of the giant kelp forests that make up the heart of this unique ecosystem.
Marcus:
I'm having a great time, until now. Then, it happens. My cellphone beeps to indicate that I have a message waiting. What was that noise? "Oh my God, who the hell would be calling me now", I wonder. I try to call in to retrieve my voice messages, but the freak signal that delivered the voicemail beep to my phone must have been the only inch of cell service anywhere along the whole Highway.
Buttercup has been itching to drive ever since she's seen the convertible, so she takes over the driving at this point, and I spend the next hour looking at my cellphone for any hint of a signal so I can retrieve my message. We pass the rest of Big Sur and San Simeon, but I don't see much of them because I'm obsessing about the phone call. It could be something totally innocuous, but then again Buttercup is usually the only person who calls me on this line, so maybe it's some kind of emergency and here I am with no cellphone service. A road sign finally shows up indicating that there's a town 8 miles ahead, and Buttercup is trying to reassure me that we can call from a payphone to get my message. Buttercup jockeys the Mustang through a twisty section of the highway that appears on my GPS screen as a madman's scrawl on a piece of paper, and we see some of the areas where the road has recently been repaired following the infamous mudslides that happened a couple months prior to our arrival.
Unfortunately, when we make it to the promised town, all it is is one forlorn, weatherbeaten looking store next to the side of the road, and it has no phone. But someone there does tell us that there's a phone in a camping area another 10 miles down the road. We continue, and finally, mercifully, in a small picnic area near the side of the road, there is a payphone. Buttercup pulls off the road, and has to help me dial it since I can't figure out how to use a calling card. I can hardly hear anything on the phone except a loud 60hz buzz, but I can make out my buddy Dave's voice on the other end of the line, just calling to say "Hey, buddy, how ya doing? Call me later!" Whew, at least I know it's not my mom trying to get a hold of me because of a death in the family or something. I walk back toward Buttercup and the car with this relieved grin on my face, and tell her, "Oh, it was just Dave calling to shoot the bull." I can't tell if she's going to kiss
me or kick my butt for all the worrying and being miserable I did for the last 50 miles. Finally, I can be happily on my way and enjoy myself again. Buttercup tells me at a later time that the sun was setting as I was trying to get the message. I had really wanted to see the sunset along the PCH, but ended up missing it.
Buttercup:
I think this is where I picked up a rock and considered throwing it at Marcus head. Note to self, warn nature boy ahead of time if there will be no cell service somewhere we travel.
Marcus:
Well, at least that is over with, but now it's dark, and we have definitely had more than enough of the Pacific Coast Highway. We still have a long way to go to get to L.A., and by my best guess I'm calculating an 11:30 arrival time. We're happy to reach an outpost of civilization again at Cambria, where we head east on California 46 to rendezvous with I-5 to speed up the remainder of the journey to L.A. This road is another deserted highway through the middle of nowhere, and now Buttercup and I are starting to get hungry. Then my phone rings again, with Dave on the line. Even though I had told him I was coming to California, he's wowed that I'm actually here with Buttercup, because he seems to have forgotten that I was going this week. He's obviously had a few Budweisers by the time he called. He asks if I'm here with my HDCS (honey dolly chickie sweetie) to which I reply, "yes, do you want to say hi to her?" and I hand the phone to Buttercup.
Dave can talk anyone's ear off, and he talks to Buttercup for a few minutes
then she says goodbye to him and hands me the phone back. We're to Paso Robles now, and Buttercup is seriously looking for a place to eat. She turns off the highway but there's absoposilutely nothing to eat anywhere here. This seems to be a recurring theme this trip. She gets back on the highway, and I can tell she's getting aggravated, because she firewalls the throttle on the Mustang and accelerates up to 80 mph. I'm absolutely no help at this point, with Dave yakking in my ear on the phone. Finally I get a word in edgewise and tell him that I have to get going. I think he's jealous now that I'm with Buttercup that he doesn't get to talk to me as much as he used to.
Well, if we can't eat right now, we're definitely going to have to make stop for a bathroom break. We find a creepy looking rest area alongside the road and stop. I quickly do my business and wait back at the car for Buttercup. She comes out and heads for the driver's door, then I ask her, "Can I drive now?" She gets this "I've been had" look on her face, and sheepishly says yes and gives me the keys. We are on California 41 now, traversing the most desolate stretch of land I've ever seen. We still have the six bags of peanuts from Southwest that Buttercup bartered for on the plane, so I give her some to take the edge off her hunger. A quick look at the GPS screen indicates that we're still close to an hour away from I-5. The time goes by faster than I expect, and soon I can see a cone of orange sodium vapor light in the sky off in the distance. I say to Buttercup, "Look, light pollution! We must be getting close to I-5!!!" She says, "YAAAAAAY, Light Pollution!!!" We both laugh. You can see that we're really getting creeped out by being so far out in the wilderness. Well, in a few more miles we reach I-5, but civilization? Hell, no. We go from a desolate stretch of 2 lane road to a desolate stretch of 4 lane road. At least now it doesn't seem as creepy to me, at least until I look down at the fuel gauge on the Ford and see that it's getting below the quarter mark. Buttercup is navigating with the GPS now, and she says there's an exit coming up, Lost Hills. I say, "Oh, wow. LOST HILLS. THAT sounds real freakin' populated!" We both laugh again, but my laugh is just a little bit nervous as I can visualize the rapidly decreasing quantity of rotgut 80 octane in our gas tank.
Buttercup:
Yes, light pollution, yaay!
Marcus:
Soon the oasis that is Lost Hills fills the windscreen, though, and thankfully enough, it has several gas stations and fast food restaurants. In fact, that's all the town is - a few gas stations and fast food restaurants. I pull up to the pumps at a truckstop and Buttercup goes into some sandwich place, I think it might have been an Arby's. She soon gets done eating and is ready to go, but I still have to get something to eat. I decide on a Carl's Jr. across the street. Buttercup asks me if she would like me to drive, and I tell her that I would rather drive, then we get back into the car. I get a sense that Buttercup is angry, so I ask her, "Are you mad?" She replies, "No, About what?" I say, "The driving thing." If she really wants to drive that badly, I'd be willing to relinquish the port seat to her, begrudgingly as it may be. I'm going to need some retraining, because I am totally not used to riding in a vehicle as a passenger, and Buttercup is the only person I've ever been with who actually looks forward to stints behind the wheel. But she tells me that she's not mad about the driving situation, it was the fact that the whole time she was eating, a bunch of creepy looking dudes were leering at her. Now that she mentions it, I do see a lot of shady looking characters in this town, and I can't wait to get the hell out of here. A quick drive through the Carl's Jr. drive thru (no way in hell I'm getting out of the car now especially if it means her waiting outside in the car for me) and we're back on I-5 getting closer to L.A. by 110 feet every second.
Buttercup:
The weirdest thing I saw, though, was this very tall, like linebacker tall, young 20-something girl with incredibly flat broad giant shoulders. She was wearing the kind of outfit youd wear on a date to go clubbing, and was sitting by herself in front of two meals, in the Arbys. She just sat and kicked her leg and looked around, for about five minutes. Shes not unattractive, but shes got a kind of circles under the eyes just generally unhealthy look to her, like shes seen her share of hangovers. Then this wealthy looking guy in his late 40s, Id guess, comes and sits down across from her, and says You can start eating. So she does. OK
I figure its a sign were getting closer to L.A., land of weirdness. I mean, he was definitely not her father.
Marcus:
It's not long until we reach the Grapevine Pass and the road begins steadily gaining in elevation, and the altitude indicator on the GPS keeps climbing steadily. We reach the pinnacle at around 5,000 feet as we head through the pass. Another 280 feet higher, and who knows what might have happened. The lights of greater Los Angeles come into view through the pass as we begin our descent, and soon we see the Magic Mountain Park go by on the right, then we're into the city.
Things are going smoothly except for one point in Burbank where I see a whole sea of brake lights in front of me. Everybody knows I'm the most impatient person in the world when it comes to traffic - just ask Buttercup what I plan on getting put on the personalized license plate for my Monte Carlo. Anyways, there is an exit ramp right there and I jump off the freeway onto the city streets, much to Buttercup's chagrin. Hey, she's got the GPS, we can find or way back onto I-5, but she is still having flashbacks of being mugged in Oakland years ago I think. The traffic jam was nothing major, so we go a few blocks and see a little bit of downtown Burbank then get back on I-5. The rest of the drive to Anaheim is uneventful, and we pull into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn near the entrance to Disneyland just at 11:30 as planned. Check in goes smoothly. The lobby of the hotel looks like a super cheap knockoff on Wilderness Lodge theming, including a wooden Mickey statue.
Buttercup:
Climbing over the Pass was really fun. I kept calling out the elevation the GPS was giving us, and couldnt believe how fast we were climbing! Coming down the other side, the view into the L.A. basin was just beautiful, and we descended so rapidly my ears actually popped.
If you like extreme coasters, Magic Mountain looks like the place to be! They had some real monsters in there. I told Marcus I was surprised he never wants to go ride extreme roller coasters, but he says after doing aerobatics in planes, they are like a big yawn in comparison. He prefers the theming at Disneys parks, with a few little thrills.
I could not BELIEVE Marcus got off the freeway and just started driving around surface streets without knowing where he was. I was like, oh my god, you have no idea what this neighborhood is like? Have you ever seen Grand Canyon? No, of course he hadnt. I am going to make him watch that movie!!
The Holiday Inn we stayed at was a bit of a let down after the HI Express, but the bed was comfortable. We never could get the room temperature right, though that wasnt helped by the weird weather in Anaheim during our stay. More on the hotel in future days.
Marcus:
We park the car and head off to our nest on the fifth floor without delay, and light up the "girl candles." And that, my friends, is all the news that's fit to print.
Buttercup:
Yup, I never kiss and tell.