Day 3 - L.A. to Monterey

Annie at Pfeiffer State Beach. She was a soldier today as both a driver, navigator and friend.


Panorama of Bixby Bridge on Hwy 1

The Pacific...where westbound highways go to die.

Less than 10 minutes after being in the motel room, I realized that if climbed on top of a few pieces of furniture I could monkey it up into this empty loft space of our room.

DAY 3

Our day started with breakfast Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles in Hollywood and ended with the sunset in Monteray. Today would be one of our longest driving day so far - 8 plus hours. Outside of the L.A. swat teams that had shutdown the 101 North just before Ventura, traffic flowed pretty smoothly for us today. Ironically, I didn't think there was anything strange about leaving Los Angeles under those circumstances. It just felt right.

After a quick bite to eat at the Downtown Brewing Company (a sweet-ass music venue with awesome food) in San Luis Obispo, we made our way onto Hwy 1. There are few words I can say that will do the stretch of road from San Luis Obispo up to Monterey justice. Kerouac, Jeffers, and Steinbeck had pens that knew it well. Ansel Adams and Edward Weston brought their cameras here to rest. All I know is that if there is a more beautiful drive in the United States it has yet to grace my eyes.

What intrigues me about the road is the vast quantity of lessons it can bring you from people you meet and places you experience. And if you're really fortunate, once awhile in your life you get to have one of your teachers sitting in the car next to you as you do it. I don't know how but somehow I was dealt five aces today. It's 2 in the morning so I'm gonna quit while I'm still ahead.

I leave you with this postcard I made for a few friends 4 years ago on my first, and only other jaunt, up this stretch of coast. As I read the words now I guess that maybe some things never change...

Peace and much love from the road.
Jimmy




Restless - 11/19/2004

The last 2 months my soul has become increasingly restless.
It keeps me up late at night,
and wakes me early in the morning.
It makes me drive till I know not where I am anymore,
To where my surroundings cannot define me,
To where I am forced to attempt to define myself.
Slowly I find fragments of what I search for.
I find it in long hours behind the wheel of my car,
And daily commutes on the pedals of my bike.
I find it on winding alpine trails,
And before towering granite faces.
I find it in the twist of my camera’s lens,
And the turning pages of sun dried books.
I find it in the wisdom of an old hitchhiker,
And the pessimism of a close friend.
I find it in the pounding thunder of crashing waves,
And the crisp silence of a mountain meadow night.
Yet despite all that I have found,
I know I have infinitely more yet to find.