Have you ever wanted to fill your heart
with the sights and sounds of the great Pacific ocean along the coast from San Francisco to Seattle? It’s a long and arduous trip by car, and thank heavens I am blessed with thoughtful and competent daughter who arranges everything, and whose husband enjoys driving. Otherwise it could be a muddle of missed diversions, midnight arrivals in foggy, unfamiliar and isolated villages along California’s redwood-darkened coast. Instead, it was a dream come true.
Mercifully she had planned distances each day, sites worth stopping for and attractive airplane museums (two of them) enough saturate even the most passionate fans – well almost. Try tearing it an airplane fanatic away because (a) mom is buckling at the knees, or (b) stomachs are beyond grumbling – they’ve gone into howling mode.
Testing the limits is good, I tell myself. Makes you stronger, and indeed it does.
The triumph of seeing so much of the Pacific coastline in one fell swoop – something I would never undertake alone – sea faring without actually being on the sea. The thrill of hanging around harbors, watching freighters load for their long trans-oceanic journey, of hearing their hoots and ships warnings, the tang of the ocean freshening the air, it delights a sea-junkie like me to the bone. Leaning over a hotel balcony watching and hearing fishermen leave at 5:30 AM, multiple rods in hand, full of hope and expectation as they head out to see in the apricot dawn of late August – heaven!