Dreams, Moments, Travels
On our way to Santa Barbara, California, for the weekend, we were able to get out of Phoenix near midday but were not fast enough to glimpse a view of the ocean before dark. High winds and rain pummeled us just before leaving Arizona and crossing over the Colorado River into SoCal, but from there on, we were treated to beautiful, cool, clear weather for the rest of the weekend.
Like Eddie Izzard debating “Cake or Death?” so Caroline and I debated “Disneyland or Something Else?” It is Superbowl Sunday today, and supposedly, two out of three Americans are watching the game, implying Disneyland will be nearly empty, but since it is Sunday, our time in the park would have been short due to the drive back to Phoenix: Disneyland doesn’t open until 9:00, we would have to leave by 4:00, but knowing us we will stay until 8:00 or 9:00 pm, with the hour we lose on our drive east we won’t get home until 3:00 am in the morning. Cake or death?
How can we be so close with nothing else better to do and have to choose NOT to go to Disneyland? And so the decision was made to visit San Pedro. Like the idea of choosing cake or death, how does one come up with San Pedro as an alternative option? Easy, look at the map of L.A. and find somewhere you have not been and go there.
Ports O’ Call Marketplace was the first place to grab our attention upon reaching San Pedro. We arrived to find the place nearly empty, parked in front of the Crusty Crab restaurant, then meandered along the harbor before overhearing three old crusty crabs talking about “dagos” – their words, not mine.
We had eaten breakfast only three hours earlier, but the fish beckoned us to indulge before leaving for Phoenix. One of the fishmongers at the San Pedro Fish Market suggested we try cabrilla, so we picked one of the speckled, biggish piscine, paid for it, and hauled it across the way to have it dropped in the fryer.
While our fish boiling away in oil, we handed a bag of shrimp to another of the women behind the counter to have it prepared with fajita veggies.
We sat outside in the sun to eat our prize catch, the only Anglos amongst a few hundred Hispanics. We often wonder out loud why we are the only whites as we sit down in a Cuban bakery, stop for boba tea at Ten Ren, eat at a Filipino cafe, watch a Bollywood movie at Naz8 in Artesia, or are but one of just a few when we go shopping at Marukai – the number 1 Japanese Specialty Store in the United States. With the largest culturally diverse population in America, it is hard to fathom that we two visitors from Arizona are the only other people in all of Los Angeles who are curious enough to try new things. Everyone else must be eating cake.
Seeing we are saving so much time today by not going to Disneyland, we might as well use this little luxury to see a bit of ocean before we turn inland.
Caroline and I were in L.A. so she could attend an event sponsored by Griffin Dyeworks called A One-Day Fiber Frolic. Before she got busy dyeing fiber (and her hands) indigo blue, she met with the host of this event, Bjo Trimble. Who is Bjo, you ask? She’s the person, along with her husband John, who is credited with successfully petitioning the studio to make Star Trek back in the day by creating a third season. Not only that, they played an instrumental role in getting one of the space shuttles named Enterprise.
With that photo saved, I headed out on my own to attempt to take photos. I say “attempt to take photos” as opposed to “taking photos” because soon after snapping this image, I was locked in mad traffic of motoring hordes plowing the streets to shop, eat, and be entertained, making me a prisoner within the four doors of our car. Nowhere was I able to park for a mere few minutes to allow me to jump out to snap a quick photo. Signs offered an hour of parking for $5 or even the bargain price of $8 for all-day parking, but I only wanted twenty-five cents worth, and such a deal was not negotiable.
In the distance, a blue mountain is rising from the Pacific Ocean, that is Catalina Island off the Southern California coast. In the foreground is downtown Los Angeles, as seen from Briggs Terrace on the edge of the Angeles National Forest. Although hazy, the view was perfect as you are looking out nearly 70 miles (112km). If you click this photo and view the larger image, you might see Long Beach Harbor, where the edge of land meets the ocean. Near the cranes used to unload shipping containers sits the Vincent Thomas Bridge which spans 1,500 feet, crossing the Los Angeles Harbor and connecting San Pedro and Los Angeles with Terminal Island. The road on the bridge stands 185 feet (56 meters) over the channel. To the right of downtown, a blimp can be seen.
A parade in Chinatown created an hour-long detour, requiring a circumnavigation of the downtown area before dumping me into the City Terrace area in East Los Angeles, a neighborhood popular with gangs. Lucky for me, I had already eaten a giant pastrami chili burrito at Oki Dog, allowing me to feel as though I had at least a little bit of good fortune before grinding my teeth in frustration at moving across a city of 498 square miles (1290km2) loaded with 12.9 million people.
After I was done with my bit of frustrated exploring, it was time to return to where I’d dropped off Caroline. They weren’t quite done yet, so I had to opportunity to snap some photos for my wife’s memories, such as the outdoor natural dye lab with pots of indigo and cochineal.
Inkle looms, bringing amazement to Caroline as she’d never seen such a device.
I know you want to ask what this felt like as it appears textured, but it’s absolutely flat. This silk shawl has been dyed using salt crystals.
Caroline asked that I snap a photo of this contraption used for weaving in the Kumihimo style, whatever that is.
[That is a Marudai, John, although I did not know that at the time. – Caroline]
The results of Caroline’s day of natural dying.
Indulging myself with the new lens I was on the prowl looking to take photos that previously were out of reach. Funny thing is that when you don’t have the tool to do the job right it seems opportunities arise constantly, reducing you to wistfully fantasize that someday you’ll be properly equipped. When that day arrives and you find yourself confident to go forward and tackle those objects which had previously been outside of your reach, they cannot be found. And that is how I found myself with my new lens: I was ready to shoot but little showed itself to my discerning eye. Where was that grizzly now? Ok, a wetland in Santa Barbara probably wasn’t the best location for tracking bears, but how about a dazzling bird, or a fluttering butterfly? Then in an instant there it was, a beautiful giant blue dragonfly zipping by.
Update: Somewhere just a few days after this with Uncle Woody at home and a rehabilitation therapist visiting on a regular basis, I’m assured that things will be okay and that I can return to Arizona. I’ll have just enough time to get ready for our fall trip to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan for you guessed it, fall colors and some leaf-peeping.
Here she was and just as quickly gone again.
Sunday morning and another five-hour visit to the sea.
Caroline and I tried to spend as much of our time together as we could find. It is by now going on a month since coming to Santa Barbara and the end is not yet in sight.
Next week, on the 4th, we are supposed to take a vacation up in Michigan, but, as of this moment, that is one big uncertainty. As evening rolled around, Caroline and I made our way back down south to Burbank for her to catch a flight back to Arizona – sigh.
Last night, Caroline flew in and landed in Burbank, California, where I picked her up and whisked her away up to Santa Barbara.
It’s been nearly two weeks since last I saw her although it feels like months.
This morning, we arose early to catch a sunrise at the beach; we had to imagine the sunrise behind the foggy daylight.
The next five hours were spent walking in the sand, sitting in the fog, watching the birds, and listening to the surf.
Being together, that’s all that mattered.