Today saw a rare feat - I didn’t order pancakes at a restaurant reputable for them. Instead, I preferred my wife’s priority of splitting the cinnamon roll. The roll was flaky, and made with lots of butter, so it wasn’t too bad of a trade. That was all in the Oregon Cave’s Chateau coffee diner, which has a very fun 50’s diner feel and really cool community seating. See picture.
After this, we promptly hit the road. We had adjusted the bike rack the night before so it wasn’t weighing completely on the car’s spoiler. Then this morning after we descended the spiral road down from the caves into Cave Junction, upon closer inspection, I discovered something that I would have already known if I had read the bike rack manual. The plastic gear joints of the bike rack are designed to be tightened via a twisting knob at the end of the joint. After a fair amount of twisting, my confidence was and is at an all time high.
On to California. When we crossed the border, Ali was all giddy, exclaiming more than once, “I’ve never done this!” She was so excited about it, I wondered if maybe I hadn’t been old enough to appreciate the moment of crossing a border by car when I was a little kid. Well, not really.
My favorite musical cd so far is James Last’s Tango album from the 80s. It’s just a bunch of Tangos, with Last’s masterful arranging.
In Crescent City, my will for fast food became painfully evident as I spontaneously turned into a Burger King, at like 11:15 am... for, um, a pre lunch ourderve. "Onion Rings!" I exclaimed, for a snack. And, of all my luck, they let me know this Burger King doesn't serve onion rings. I responded by hastily ordering their promo dessert, a brownie ice cream sundae, to Alison's surprise and disgusted gasp. We waited at the delivery window for at least 3 minutes, building my suspicion that the nice young Mexican girls beyond the window had no idea how to make this new promo. My suspicions were confirmed when they handed it to me, grinning shyly. Then another girl came up, with a bunch of napkins, and said "Here, you're going to need these."
This sundae, I later exclaimed, was the equivalent of Ivy Mike on my stomach. The thing was out of control, ice cream and fudge spilling over the sides as soon as the lid was lifted. I couldn't even finish it, and I am known for finishing my food. It was quite, indeed, over the top.
Today was not intense traveling. We showed up in Trinidad early. We ate the worst lunch ever, which inspired me to write a later post about what to eat at the restaurants in small coastal towns (hamburgers and nothing else.)
We got our bikes off the rack and rode around Trinidad. Alison crashed, trying to ride through sand. I got a lovely picture of a wave hitting a rock. See picture.
And, we’re about to have, um, a good rest of the night.
Andy
Since Andy hit just about every point of our day, I will elaborate on our lunch ordeal...
I was starting to feel hungry about an hour outside of our final destination for the day (Trinidad). By the time we pulled in, I had a one track mind to eat some food. After checking in at our very quaint motel, we were in search of food. In a town with a population of 367, it is not easy to choose where to eat. Our options were a total hippie vegan cafe, two ritzy seafood restaurants, a couple of burger joints, the grocery store deli and an almost Mexican food eatery. We actually walked into the hippie cafe and looked at a menu. I can’t really remember what was on it just that it was a ton of vegetables with hummus. The funky smell and feel pushed us to head for the exit before ordering.
Our food search continues with us getting back in the car and heading for the sketch looking Mexican joint on the edge of town. We pulled into the parking lot of the run down building that had white paint flaking off. I convinced myself that the cause was indeed the salt water air and not the fact that the owners just didn’t care about their establishment enough to make it look presentable. As we were walking up the ramp to the entrance, there was a shady looking character having a smoke. He quickly squashed out his Marlboro and followed us in. It turns out that this guy was the hostess, waiter, the bus boy and the chef.
We ignored all warning signs and proceeded to order food: Andy the nachos and I the steak a la mexicana. My dish was more of a chinese dish. It consisted of white rice topped with onions, green peppers, very low grade beef all smeared in what tasted like a chicken gravy. The nachos were made with burned chips, not so fresh pico de gallo and stale shredded pork. We both gagged down a few bites before realizing that we should just leave the food behind and get out of the dive. We reluctantly paid our tab and drove to the grocery store to purchase some edible food.
With the terrible lunch experience and crashing my bike, it has been difficult to feel good things about Trinidad. While the scenery is gorgeous -- with towering redwoods overlooking ocean cliffs, I think I am looking forward to heading further south tomorrow with hopes of better food and better bike riding.
Until then,
Alison
NOTE: Pictures are soon to follow.
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