After thanking the gals at the Visitors Centre for my warm welcome to Joshua Tree and sharing some pictures I set out south. The day was sunny and I stopped to photograph Teddy Bear Cholla and Ocotillas. The route south wound through desert terrain and canyons. My GPS led me along the East side of the Salton Sea and therefore I bypassed the state parks my hosts at Joshua Tree had so highly recommended which were located on the other side. I did pass through extensive vineyards, fields of cabbage which was being actively harvested and groves of lemon and orange. The park I hoped to visit that night proved to be located at 4000 ft in a snow zone and after negotiating winding roads clinging to the sides of cliff faces I was glad to take the switchbacks that led be back to lower elevations. When I found Interstate 8 I was glad to head west to San Diego. After getting gas at $2.21 a gallon and a taco salad at Carl Jr I found my way to the beach-front park of San Elijo.
Having paid my fee of $20.00 for a non-beach-front space and $9.00 for hookups I settled in discovering my bedroom backed onto 2 four-lane highways separated by a double commuter rail line with level crossings, clanging bells and blowing train horns. The beach was accessed by a set of five stairways that led down a 5 storey cliff to the sea where surfers in wetsuits paddled their surfboards among the waves. I was fatigued after a 200 mile drive but sleep was a restless affair.
The next day I drove north to Dana Point after stopping in Oceanside at the Welcome Centre to see what I could glean. The route ahead passed through 30 miles of Camp Pendleton. Doheny State Beach was severely regimented and offered no hookups but I was successful in finding a Wi-Fi connection to update my mail. At this beach the front tier had direct access to the beach over a small sand dune and the drop-off was immediate offering surfers no break to catch a wave. Behind me was only one 4-lane highway and a raised double rail line with no level crossings. After a decent night's sleep I spent the morning talking with my neighbours.
On Thursday I drove through Orange County and Newport Beach the erstwhile setting for the TV Series the OC. Aside from some spectacular ocean views early on the remaining drive offered only fenced in gated communities, flowering embankments, no-stopping signs, parking meters and traffic lights. When I'd had enough I programmed my GPS and took to the freeways to find Deckweiler Beach in LA County. Located directly under the LAX Flyway the RV Park is on a paved surface with markings to delineate campsites. On one side is an embankment leading up to the highway and on the other a thirty-foot sand dune hides the oil-drilling platforms off-shore. When a family of five noisy brats and two barking dogs moved in next door there went the neighbourhood—and I thought things couldn't get worse. I thought of promising to play my bagpipes at dawn if one urchin didn't stop banging around with his skateboard. Everything notwithstanding I still managed a good night's sleep.
On Friday the Thirteenth I was lucky enough to get re-assigned when I asked to stay a second night. I gladly moved. After breakfasting on bacon, potato pancakes, apple sauce and coffee I got down my bicycle and set off on a 24 mile ride. Can't say as I saw anything remarkable but I got some good exercise. Made it home just before the rains came down. That prediction was the reason for my decision to layover in the first place. So far my impression of California mirrors that of Florida. The Pacific is between 58 and 60, about what I'd expect at Crescent Beach in Lunenburg County in Summer. Now that I've caught up with my typing I'll try for an afternoon nap if I can dose off between takeoffs.
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