Day 32
We had few excuses to get moving early. A comfy bed, rambunctious boys who really wanted to play, and good company. I arose eventually and had breakfast with the folks around the kitchen. We decided it was wise to run some errands in town while we had a shorter day ahead of us and a safe place to keep our stuff. I went to the bike store and waiting for them to open while Lluc rode around SLO looking for iso-pro for the stove. I had the bike mechanics look at something funky on my rear derailer I had been feeling, only to have them tighten one cable and have the thing ride better than it has the whole trip. That's how we learn... Lluc came back sporting a spiffy bike jersey (from goodwill) and we returned home feeling successful.
By the afternoon, we were in Guadalupe. It was a commercial farm town. Almost entirely hispanic it seemed. Pretty quiet in the heat of the day. We ate in the shade of a tree by the bus stop.
It was another 10 miles to Orcutt, where I had found someone to stay with on warmshowers. Town felt different immediately. Fancier shops, restaurants other than taquerias, a poster for a chalk festival... We ride through and to the address we had been given. We found it at a large gated community. A little startled, we rode it. Big mansions. Wide street. No one around. At the top of the hill we found the place. Landcapers trimmed the hedges. Our host was inside, and he showed us to an extra room. It had a fireplace, TV, and bathroom of its own. Wow. So nice it was uncomfortable. I almost didn't want to touch anything.
"Take a dip if you're hot!" said Bob. There was a small pool. So of course we did. Still shocked, we looked at each other. How did they let us in here? We gazed around us at the fake rocks, the immitation stucco, fo-italian/spanish/colonial architecture, trying to make something of it. It was wierd and I couldn't help saying I felt there was something wrong with it. This much opulence behind the gate on the hill when down in the valley, hooded workers bent over strawberries in the sun and blowing dirt. "Who are we to judge?" Lluc asked. "The rich will lives how they want. We can't change that." Pause. "They are putting us up." That's true. What is there to say?
We cooked on our camp stove on the patio and observed an owl, observing us. The dusk came quickly and I settled into bed to write and Lluc went into town to meet some friends in passing through the area. Hope he gets back...
We packed and left town already in the heat of the sun. Back through town (fully loaded this time) and followed some roads that paralleled the highway nearly to Shell Beach, where we came over an incline to see the ocean again and suddenly there was something very different. Spanish revival architecture, palm trees, hot sun, smooth pavement, hotel, spa, fancy car. There was no doubt about. We were in Southern California.
We rode through Pismo Beach and Grover Beach, looking around pretty wide-eyed. How did we get here?
Lluc had no problem posing with the trash.
In Oceano we stocked up on fresh fruits and veggies at some fantastic roadside stands. Nothing satisfies more on a hot day than some cheap over ripe fruit.
The 1 turned away from the coast and we rode through a large agricultural valley. As always, I am stunned by the plastic, especially in the berry farms, which are numerous around here. Plastic on the fence, plastic all over the field, plastic wrapping on the food...
By the afternoon, we were in Guadalupe. It was a commercial farm town. Almost entirely hispanic it seemed. Pretty quiet in the heat of the day. We ate in the shade of a tree by the bus stop.
It was another 10 miles to Orcutt, where I had found someone to stay with on warmshowers. Town felt different immediately. Fancier shops, restaurants other than taquerias, a poster for a chalk festival... We ride through and to the address we had been given. We found it at a large gated community. A little startled, we rode it. Big mansions. Wide street. No one around. At the top of the hill we found the place. Landcapers trimmed the hedges. Our host was inside, and he showed us to an extra room. It had a fireplace, TV, and bathroom of its own. Wow. So nice it was uncomfortable. I almost didn't want to touch anything.
"Take a dip if you're hot!" said Bob. There was a small pool. So of course we did. Still shocked, we looked at each other. How did they let us in here? We gazed around us at the fake rocks, the immitation stucco, fo-italian/spanish/colonial architecture, trying to make something of it. It was wierd and I couldn't help saying I felt there was something wrong with it. This much opulence behind the gate on the hill when down in the valley, hooded workers bent over strawberries in the sun and blowing dirt. "Who are we to judge?" Lluc asked. "The rich will lives how they want. We can't change that." Pause. "They are putting us up." That's true. What is there to say?
We cooked on our camp stove on the patio and observed an owl, observing us. The dusk came quickly and I settled into bed to write and Lluc went into town to meet some friends in passing through the area. Hope he gets back...
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