The Final Day, in which we avoid certain death on the PCH and barely sleep for 36+ hours

 We had to check out by 11 am, but didn't have to get the rental car back to the airport until 9:30 pm for our 11:40 pm flight, so we had some time to kill.  Our Michigan friends on the wine trolley suggested Goat Rock Beach for great views, so we decided that some driving was in order.  We checked out of the Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn and headed out. But first, breakfast!

Once again, Jason's Yelp research paid off and we stopped by a 1950s-style diner in Petaluma, called Sax's Joint.  No one was surprised when Shannon got eggs benedict, but this time it was with tri-tip!  And the breakfast potatoes were served with sour cream and green onion.  Jason had tri-tip and eggs.  It was a LOT of good food and we didn't eat another real meal for 10 hours. 

It was pretty warm as we headed to the coast on Highway 1.  (Ridiculously, we both had Journey's "Faithfully" stuck in our heads, even though Steve Perry doesn't quite mention Highway 1.)  At first, it seemed like every farm road around here and then we got near the coast and all bets were off.  It was like a roller coater, literally. Hairpin turns that were seriously banked.  I swear we pulled some Gs a few times.  And there were so any bicyclists.  I am not complaining...we were happy to share the road, but that just added to the stress:  twists, turns, hills, you might fall off this cliff, and by the way, don't run over anyone. (Don't mind the smudges on the windshield.)

Goat Rock Beach was breathtakingly beautiful. but is one of the deadliest beaches in California, so they really don't recommend you go swimming. We watched the birds and took lots of photos.  Shannon kept debating at least getting her feet wet, but then she was sure she'd be one of those people dragged under by a shadow wave and decided that listening to the waves was enough.  We walked down closer to Goat Rock, which was a feat in tennis shoes on a pretty steep drop off to the water.  (More on the sand later.) Jason found some old railroad tracks which were apparently used 100 years ago when there was a quarry there.  We walked back to the car and Shannon emptied lots of sand from her tennis shoes.

Rumor has it that this is where they filmed the final scene of The Goonies.

We headed back to Highway 1 and stopped a few times to take photos.  As we headed south and the deadly drop off was on Shannon's side of the car, she did some panicking and deep breathing here and there.

We stopped at a little farm-to-table café in a tiny town called Valley Ford to have milkshakes. (I just checked Wikipedia and the population is 0, so is it a town?) We still had lots of time to kill, so we decided to continue on Highway 1 to Sausalito.  We couldn't imagine how 55 miles could take 2 hours to drive, but then we drove it.  It was insane with the twists and turns and hills and drop-offs.  Jason might have averaged 30 mph.

As we were driving, we whipped around one curve and saw what we thought was smoke.  We were not prepared to outrun a CA wildfire...and then we realized that it was actually fog rolling in.  We've never seen anything like it.  Shannon kept turning around trying to take photos while reminding Jason to keep his eyes ON THE ROAD.  Rather than looking to the right to see cliffs and imminent death, all we could see was a wall of white.  It wasn't comforting.

By the time we got to Sausalito, we had outrun the fog.  We parked and walked around and found a little hole-in-the-wall bar that we had to stop by called Smitty's.  (It's a long story). We watched some college football and chatted with a couple from Ohio.  We walked back to the car and looked to the east in time to see the fog coming up over the hill.  It was almost frightening.  

By the time we got to the Golden Gate Bridge, you couldn't even see the bridge.  

The drive through San Fran to the airport felt almost apocalyptic.  But by the time we got to the airport, there was no fog.  We returned the car early and were ready to board three hours ahead of time, so we had a very late dinner, after Jason finally emptied the sand from his shoes. (Seriously, how did he walk around like that all day?  And did the TSA agents laugh about him later?)

The flight was uneventful.  We got to O'Hare 30 minutes early and neither of us had slept much.  We are tired today, but that's ok.  It was a fun trip. 

Good Grief!

 Jason’s job has been choosing breakfast spots and (with the help of Yelp) he picked a great one again today. The Naked Pig in Santa Clara is a cute little farm-to-table restaurant and the homemade hollandaise sauce was incredible. 

After filling up, we headed to the Schulz Museum and revisited everything Peanuts. It was interesting to read about how important it was to Schulz to portray real honest emotion in his comic strip. He said that since he had a lot of anxiety, so did Charlie Brown.  Also, he never handed the strip off to anyone else; he wrote and drew it himself until he retired. You can see the tremor in his later drawings. 

This mural is made of individual Peanuts comic strips  

This sculpture shows the evolution of Snoopy  

Shannon made an origami doghouse while Jason did a Peanuts crossword puzzle  

We had lunch at Russian River Brewery: pizza and cheesy garlic bread. Jason tried a beer called Mind Circus IPA,  another called OVL Stout and a tiny Pliny the Elder. Shannon had a beer called Apical Dominance because no biology nerd could pass that up  

In our continuing effort to relax, we went back to the hotel, read our books and then went down to the courtyard to listen to music and eat Food Truck food. The homemade ice cream sandwich was amazing. 

On a side note, we worked our way through the 5th season of Cobra Kai in the evenings. What a ridiculous and fun show! 

Jack London and a pickle tower

When we first started dating, Jason was reading Martin Eden by Jack London. Shanon never read any Jack London, but always remembered that Jason had.  When we were researching our Sonoma Trip and saw that London’s estate was in the Sonoma Valley, we decided it would be a good stop. 

We started with a very hearty breakfast in Glen Ellen. We drove by the Garden Court Cafe three times before we found it, but it was worth it. Such good food! 

After that we wound through the countryside to the Park. 

You could smell the eucalyptus trees in the air (London had planted them hoping to be able to harvest them for wood. The plan failed.) The Museum is in a house that Jack never lived in, but was built by his widow after he died at age 40. A complicated man, London was a believer in DOING things, in living your life. He felt strongly about worker’s rights and animal welfare. He took thousands of photographs of his adventures. He was a war correspondent and a practical joker. Even more interesting was that his second wife, Charmian, was very modern, independent and just as athletic and adventurous as Jack. They competed athletically and even boxed one another. 

From the museum, you can hike to Jack and Charmian’s gravesite and then to The Wolf House. The Wolf House was their dream home, but they never lived in it as it burned down shortly before they moved in. 

The setting is hauntingly beautiful. 

The hike was short, but pretty hilly for people who are used to the flatlands of the Midwest. 

After that we went to see the cottage, where Jack and Charmian entertained guests, worked and where Jack died. 

Jack was very interested in sustainable farming and taking care of the earth. He even tried to plant cacti to feed his livestock. It didn’t work.

We headed back into Sonoma proper. We were hot and tried the “air-conditioned seats” feature of the rental car. I’m not sure how I feel about that. “Disconcerting” is a good start  

We wandered about the Sonoma Plaza, poking our heads into a few shops. We had a snack at the Sausage Emporium (cue all of the junior high jokes.) Jason was especially excited about the pickle tower. We did some people watching and had dinner at an Irish pub while watching the Steelers underwhelm the Browns and listening to a jazz trio. 

While back at the hotel, I had the realization that Sonoma is actually south of Morton. I don’t know why that fact threw me off so much, but Sonoma is at 38° N longitude. Morton is 40-something. Another weird thing that will keep me up at night…