Small roads

I suddenly realized something this past weekend. I've missed out on a great deal of the beauty of California because of my mom's fears. Specifically my mother has a fear of bridges and two lane roads.

When I first started going to Pt. Reyes Station, I mentioned it to my mom. She asked about the roads. I told her the truth. She said, "No."

But I love two lane roads. I love drawbridges. And so it was perfect that Saturday afternoon/evening found me driving through the Delta. (Even if I had "Walking in Memphis" stuck in an endless loop in my mind.) I thought of y'all while I was driving. Like, "I should pull over to take some photos," but the sun was setting and I try not to do those kinds of roads after dark if I've never driven them several times. So I'll be heading back.

I previously said that Sunday was my "me" day but Saturday evening was as well. Getting behind the wheel of my car on open, or fairly open, road is very relaxing. By the time I got home Saturday night I had clocked around 260 miles of driving from the time that I left home for work on Friday morning. Looking at the number, I think that it really isn't that much but then I think about the reality of it all.

Friday morning I drove to work in San Francisco. At the end of the day, I drove home through Friday night commute traffic. It was road rage worthy. After eating dinner, I gathered my stuff and then drove to Sacramento. After doing three and a half hours of work in my dad's office on Saturday, I drove to Tobie's housewarming. And then home.


On the road between Sacramento and Lodi.


Brannan Island Levee Road in the Delta.

It was the drive to Tobie's and then the drive home that took me through the Delta. I haven't spent much time back in that area. Might have something to do with the great number of folks who some may classify as being "rednecks" around those parts. Always made me a bit uneasy.


Berkeley Plantation, Virginia.


James River.

Just like how I will do ten hour drives by myself through the Deep South but I don't stray onto those small roads unless I really know them. Because solo driving in the U.S. means that I look at things not only through the lens of gender but through that of race as well. When I lived in Virginia, my downstairs neighbor, the self-proclaimed "redneck," told me the places that I should avoid. Oh, and I should explain. Her calling herself a "redneck" had nothing to do with her political beliefs. Nah. She just didn't have a college degree, liked country line dancing, and Jack Daniels. It was more an acknowledgment that white folks with more money than what she had looked down their noses at her. A lot of her kind of folks were my friends when I lived in Virginia. Maybe there was a shared experience that the dominant society would never think that you were good enough for them.


Yorktown.


Williamsburg.


Jamestown.

I digress. Bottom line is that I need to do here what I did in Virginia. It was much easier there because of the French Bitch, the Peugeot I drove back then. My car had phantom problems in the electrical system. This meant that I called the towing company -- in a town of about 10,000 people -- at least once a month. Since I apparently have a distinctive voice, they got to know me at "hello." Now I don't know how much experience you have with getting a jump start but the deal is that you should ideally drive the car for at least 30 minutes after getting the jump. It gets boring driving the same streets and ideally you should take the car on the highway. So while I was waiting for the tow guy, I would pull out my map and look for unfamiliar lines. I quickly learned that I could drive to Jamestown and back if I was in a rush. Have a little more time? Head to Yorktown. Or just explore the other nearby towns. And then there were the days that I would just head out with my camera riding shotgun.

I have been trying to find balance in my life. Over the past weekend I have noticed quite a number of things that were lacking. Hopping in my car and driving down some unfamiliar road is one of them. So now I'm going to figure out how to include these explorations into my life. Because they are me. And I just need to reclaim the pieces of me that have gotten lost along the way.

Note: Photos added from Google the afternoon of 20 August 2008 at the request of
Fluffycat. One day soon I'll go through my old photos and post some of the stuff that I actually took while I lived in Virginia.

California love

So I got the idea from Hilly to come up with this list. I figured it would be would be helpful, given the dark mood I've been in lately, to come up with some stuff that I actually like. So here goes ...

Why the Empress Is Happy to Live in California

1. Carne asada burritos from Roberto's in San Diego. One of the things I have missed since graduating from undergrad. I find myself periodically dreaming about them. I've had some good burritos elsewhere but none have made me want to drive two hours for one.

I once drove to San Diego from L.A. with the express purpose of getting a couple of burritos. Well, and also stopping at my fave bar. But that's all the trip consisted of -- burritos and cocktails. And this was on a Friday evening after working all week. Insane, huh?

2. Tilden Park in the Berkeley hills. I still get a kick out of going by the Little Farm up there. Just as much as I did when I was a kid. And the Jewel Lake trail? The Botanical Garden? Totally calming.

3. That certain block of Lombard Street in San Francisco. You know the one. The one dubbed as the "crookedest street in the world." Now I know that this is a usual tourist destination but the key here is to go later in the evening. Say around 10 p.m. or so. Late enough that the pesky tourists are not around. You can take the street a little faster then. Kind of an adult version of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

4. The California State Fair. Sure you've got the livestock exhibits and crafts and rides. But there's also harness racing. Oh, and let's not forget the wine competition. Oh, and food. There's a vendor who's been there a few years at least who makes scrumptious fried catfish. If you catch him at the right time, there's peach cobbler too. And finally, the concerts. Of course, I usually luck up and get the VIP tickets. This means reserved seating with a catered meal. And lots of free beer and wine. Plus it is so much fun to sing along with a bunch of strangers to the likes of The B-52s and The Doobie Brothers.

5. Not having to pack away seasonal wardrobes like I did when I lived in Virginia. I love living in a place in which the climate is fairly stable. I like to say that in NorCal we have two seasons -- wet and dry. I love sweaters and I love that I can wear my wool sweaters the majority of the year.

6. And speaking of Virginia, I love that the houses out here are painted a variety of colors. In Virginia, everything was either white or beige or brick. Boring. I love the technicolor display of houses. It seems so alive and vibrant.

7. The laidback feeling at times. Even though Berkeley liberals can be irritating at times, I still love them. They're part of the reason why I chose to live here. Probably because there is such a variety in personal expression. It's all cool. If I had stayed in Virginia, I probably never would have pierced my nose. Last summer when I was looking for a job (That seems to be a recurring thing.), my relatives in the South asked, "Do you think it's wise to pierce your nose while looking for a job?" Heck yeah. It's becoming pretty common around here. Just like how folks compare what kind of ink they have. Reminder to self -- must see about getting some ink in the near future.

8. Proximity to both the beach and the snow. Not that I go to either very often but I like the idea of being able to.

9. My commute when I worked in South San Francisco. I learned how to avoid the hell that is known as 80. If I took that route home, it would take me at least 90 minutes to get home. My alternate route took one hour. Skyline Boulevard to Great Highway to Lincoln. Cut through Golden Gate Park to Park Presidio to the Golden Gate Bridge. Then a quick jaunt through Marin County to the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. Once while driving home, I was speaking to one of my uncles who now lives in Alabama. He said, "You have to have one of the most beautiful commutes." During daylight savings time when the sun is just starting to set and there are pelicans flying over the ocean? Breathtaking. It's one of those things that I take for granted of which I have to remind myself periodically.

10. And finally, one of my other favorite drives. Taking Coleman Valley Road from Occidental out to the coast. I love the juxtaposition of one minute being in rolling green farmland and the next being at the rocky coast.

So if you feel like joining in, try to come up with ten non-traditional as to why you love the state in which you live.

Local "drugs"

I know that several times before that I have waxed poetic about the crack cheese. No more. It has been replaced with a much more local source.


The Pierce Pt. and the Mt. Tam

Yep, that's right. Cowgirl Creamery. Appreciating food and all that I do, it's not like I have not heard of these folks. I have just been avoiding them because I was sure that they would become my new addiction.

How did this all start, you ask? Well, I blame Cookiecrumb. She mentioned the Pt. Reyes Farmers Market on her blog and it got me to thinking. As it turns out, it's only an hour's drive away. And such a lovely drive it is.

So Saturday morning, I awoke at 6 a.m. and watched the previous nights episodes of "Law and Order" and "Numb3rs." Oh yeah. And I fed the cats because Boris was howling as soon as I woke up. By 9 I knew it was time to get dressed and to hit the road. Along the way I saw all these trees changing colors and thought of Neil. I would have taken a picture but I also did not want to wreck my car. Now that I'm a little more familiar with the route, next time I may pull over to take some photos for the poor guy since he is desperately missing autumn.

The cheese was not the first of my finds at the market though. The first thing I found were these wonderful jellies and jams from The Wild Pear Co. I sampled them all. I need them all.


Jalapeno and Garlic Jelly

The woman tried to warn me that this would be spicy. Pah! I have eaten olives stuffed with habanero strips. The spice of the jelly was near the end but it was pleasant. I got a jar for my dad. Next Saturday is the last day of the market for this season. I asked where I could find these wonderful goods the rest of the year. The answer? The best selection can be found at Cowgirl Creamery. Coincidence, you think? I think not. I foresee many trips to Tomales in the future. Although I can also email her to get more. We also talked about Berkeley because as it turns out her sister lives in Berkeley. She has been invited to the Oakland market but is not sure if she should do so. It would be nice if I didn't have to drive so far but I loved it all so much that I am willing to drive for it.

Next was honey tasting. I wanted them all. The problem is that payday is not until Tuesday. I knew I was limited to two selections so after a couple of tastings, I narrowed down my choices.


Wildflower Honey and Lavendar Honey

I have her card and so now have the address of the Beekind shop in Sepastapol -- another town I really should visit more often. When I return next week, I will complete my collection. She has a wonderful honey that comes from tree sap. It has hints of chocolate and coffee in the flavor. Oh, and there were creams including a raspberry flavored one. And beeswax candles. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

After making my purchases, I hit the road. As I hit the northern end of Pt. Reyes Station, I looked at the sign. One way pointed to Petaluma, the other to points north. It was only 12:30 and so I headed north because I decided that it had been some time since I had seen the Pacific. Driving along Tomales Bay was wonderful but it still wasn't the ocean. Neither is Bodega Bay. Finally north of Bodega, I saw the Pacific.


Carmet Beach

The strange thing about driving along this stretch of 1 is that on one side of the road you see cows grazing in fields and on the other you see the ocean. I never really thought this was strange until several years ago when a friend came to visit from Virginia. She loved how in the drive from San Francisco up to Bodega Bay via the Napa Valley everything looked so different.

Finally I hit the Jenner area and figured I should head back south before I suddenly found myself in Mendocino -- another weekend. It's been years since I have driven through Monte Rio, Guerneville, etc. Too many years. These towns are so close that I really should do it more often. And on the way home, I realized that this was all possible because I had not been out until 5 a.m. the previous night. When I lived in Virginia, I regularly took drives like this to relax. I think it's time to add more days like Saturday into my life again. For many reasons.

California Dreaming

Originally I was going to post this quiz because I was going to be in SoCal for the weekend, hanging out with Kate, my college roomie. Awww. What the heck! Have a great weekend. I know I'm going to try to. What am I saying? I'm already off to a good start.

Orange County

You're rich, pretty, and living a charmed life. (Or you seriously wish you were.) From Disneyland to Laguna Beach, you're all about living the California dream life. Just make sure to marry rich - so you don't have to work for it!

Where Does Your Inner Californian Belong?