NORTH AMERICAN ROAD TRIP 2023 PART I

Judy Jensen

I usually only write when I am traveling, so my silence might have been interpreted as my not having done anything interesting, lately. That couldn't be further from the truth. I drove about eleven thousand miles over two months, from Mexico to California, across the United States as far as Georgia, back to California and then back to Mexico. Then I turned around and sailed from Mazatlan to Ensenada.  Unfortunately, on the day following my departure, my dear friend, Judy Jensen, suffered complications from spinal surgery, fell into a coma and ultimately succumbed to the cascade of organ failures that played out over the next month. I just couldn't bring myself to write about my adventures while this was happening. Instead, I was glued to my phone, praying for hopeful updates. It was difficult to be so far from my home and circle of friends during this time. I couldn't bring myself to write about the situation, either. Her husband Fred's eloquent and anguished posts said it all. It seemed wrong to suggest that my own sorrow even mattered in sight of his tremendous loss. I remained silent.

I didn't realize it until she was gone, but Judy was the person with whom I spent the most time. We saw each other at the gym, played cards and dominoes, and raced sailboats. Her smile dominated a room. I can still hear her unique voice in my head. Being away from my every day friends just made me miss her more. Judy always let her friends know that she loved them and I loved her, too. She was irreplaceable.

Ollie in My Truck

Ironically, my trip started out as a mission to see the friends and family I hadn't seen in years because we are all getting older and tomorrow isn't guaranteed for any of us. I also needed to register my truck and wanted to bring another load of family heirlooms back to my home in La Cruz. I drove my truck north, ferrying a load of personal belongings and a silver lab named Ollie back across the border for an acquaintance who had just sold his boat. We spent the first night at my now favorite Mission Motel in Guasave where we were able to park the truck in a garage between our rooms. We couldn't shut the garage door, but backed the tailgate up against the wall, successfully preventing access, as I had reinstalled the plywood sides on the truck. We had to pull the truck out a few feet to get our luggage back in. As we were driving up the steep driveway that led directly to the highway, we noticed an elderly man madly bicycling after us. We had left the tailgate down! We were very grateful for his notification. Our gear could have easily been spread all over Highway 15.

On the second night, I left Mike, Ollie, and the truck at a hotel in San Carlos

Marina Real in San Carlos

and spent the night with my friend, Marie-Pierre, on her boat in Marina Real. It was Mother's Day in Mexico. Marie-Pierre and I shared a lovely dinner at the somewhat fancy restaurant in the marina and then went for a walk along the beach. I had never been to Marina Real before and the setting was lovely. I could see why MP liked it there, although it was pretty deserted at that time of year. MP was glad to see a friendly face. Ollie, the dog, greeted me enthusiastically, the next morning, and we continued on our way, crossing the border at Nogales. It was the day that Title 42 expired and doomsayers were predicting crowds of migrants at the border. We saw no one and were across the border in under 15 minutes. 

 I drove Mike to the Tucson airport where we somehow (barely) managed to cram all of his things into a rented Toyota Highlander. He set off for California and I continued on to Glendale, AZ, where I arrived just in time to have dinner with my college friend, Diane. I spent two nights with Diane, resting, visiting, and shopping. It was nice to take a break from driving.

View from Tom & Cary's Patio

My next stop was Cathedral City, CA, (near Palm Springs) where I stayed with my friends, Tom and Cary, from Dragon's Toy.  I wanted to get my truck legal before heading into the Los Angeles area. I had started getting hassled by the police in Mexico because my registration was two years out of date and I did not have a front license plate. Unfortunately, neither of these problems could be corrected without returning the truck to California for a smog check. I arrived on a Saturday. Because my truck was old, it had to go to a special testing facility that was not open until Monday. I spent the weekend visiting with my friends, Trish and Charles, who both lived in Indio, and accompanying Tom and Cary on a drive to Idyllwild and Lake Hemet. It was nice to get out of the heat. We ate lunch at an outrageously overpriced ($84 for two lunches and three drinks) outdoor cafe and listened to live music.

Lake Hemet

Monday morning, I was at the smog check station when it opened. The truck passed with flying colors and I proceeded to the DMV in Palm Springs where I was able to renew the registration, get new license plates, and order a replacement title for my Kia. I had paid off the loan on the car months earlier but the title had never arrived at my mailing address. I needed to sell the car before returning to Mexico, so acquiring the title was crucial. I hoped that it would arrive before I completed my circuit of the Southern United States.

Having completed my tasks at the DMV, I was then free to drive to Marina del Rey and meet up with Greg on Scout. Soon, we were joined by Sally and Adrian, some English friends who were visiting on their way to Hawaii. We all went out for dinner at Killer Shrimp. In the morning, we were joined by our friend, Brad, and the five of us set sail for Catalina Island on Scout. It was always a treat to see my Mexico sailing friends during the off season. 

Cat Harbor from the Top of the Hill

We sailed to Isthmus Cove and picked up a mooring, there. The following day, Sally, Adrian, Brad, and I went for a hike and climbed to the top of the hill overlooking Cat Harbor. Later, we met Greg for drinks at Doug's and then made dinner on the boat. On our last morning in Catalina, we conducted experiments to determine the best method for preparing one-eyed jacks, our gang's favorite breakfast item. We investigated different shapes for the hole cut in the center of the bread and learned that a "B" shape, rectangle, and random "Blair" tear were all equally successful. We agreed that future investigation should include the use of larger bread and/or smaller eggs. We took careful notes to share with the absent members of our gang. Our sail back to Marina del Rey was uneventful. It had been chilly and overcast for our entire time at Catalina. We saw a huge flock of cormorants on our way back to the mainland.

Sally, Brad, Greg, and Me at Doug's Harbor Reef

The next day, I said goodbye to my sailing friends and continued north to Paso Robles to pick up my mail and visit my friends, Midori and Curt. It was a weeknight and they had a busy schedule. I was whisked off to their choir rehearsal. I hadn't sung in a choir for decades and was reminded how different that is from singing as a soloist or duet. I had to pay much more attention to my breathing because it would have been very noticeable if we had all breathed at once. I spent the night with Midori and Curt and then continued on my way to Benicia in the morning.

Both of my rental properties were vacant, so I was able to stay in my former home. There was no furniture, so I blew up my air bed and dragged in a couple of resin chairs. Fortunately, I had left my barstools for the tenant, so I had somewhere to sit and eat or use the computer. My first mission was to call AAA and get my Kia started. After sitting in the garage for a year and a half, the battery was quite dead. AAA didn't carry the type of battery I had, so I drove straight to the dealer to purchase a new battery and get my oil changed.

Where Was My Gravel?

My townhouse was in good shape except for a window that had been broken when a tree fell through it during a storm. The property manager had already ordered the window, so all I needed to do was to scrub some mildew off the ceiling in one of the bathrooms. The big house was a different story. While the interior of the house was in good condition, the landscaping and irrigation had been completely destroyed by the tenant's supposedly calm and well-trained "emotional support" dog. Neighbors described the dog as "mean" and "a tornado." It had knocked over the elderly fence by lunging at the neighbors on one side. I had re-landscaped the yard just before I left, removing the lawn and carrying yards of decorative rocks and gravel up a ramp built over the stairs. When I returned, the large area under the big tree, which had been covered in pea gravel broken up by a faux stream of river stones, was nearly completely bare. All of the river stones and most of the gravel were gone. I was horrified. I no longer had the lumber for the ramp or the wheelbarrow. I had no idea how I was going to replace the rocks.

My Irrigation Was Toast

My sprinkler system was a total loss. The dog had torn up the drip irrigation system, gnawed off the sprinkler heads, and chewed through the electrical wires controlling the valves. It also turned out that the dog had been a digger. I eventually located my rocks. Rather than returning the dirt the dog had excavated to the holes, the tenant had filled the holes with my rocks. It took me ten days to sort the rocks from the gravel and painstakingly reconstruct what I could of the landscaping. Many of the plants had died, since nothing had been watered for at least a year. I pulled up dead shrubs and did not replace them. It was apparently too much to ask tenants to water, so my property manager suggested I not bother to repair the sprinklers or replace any plants. I bought a truckload of rubber mulch to cover the dog's earthworks and the bare spots left by removed dead bushes. It looked tidy when I was finished and I guessed that would have to do.

It Looked OK After I Was Done

The other unpleasant surprise I received upon my return was the fact that my wooden garage door had sort of melted in all the rain. It had been made of wooden panels glued to frames. It faced south and had suffered from sun exposure. I had kept it well painted to try to extend its life, but the glue had dissolved in the rain and the whole thing had sagged. I couldn't put it back together and had to order a new garage door. The state of California, in its wisdom, had decreed that garage doors couldn't be replaced without replacing the garage door openers with one containing a battery backup, so I had to shell out an additional $675 for a new opener. I had planned to paint the house over the summer. I met with the painter and got a bid but, between the houses not being rented for a few months and having to replace the fence and the garage door, the painting would have to wait.

Gover, Mark, and Me Reunited

Not all my time in Benicia was wasted on house repairs. I got to spend time with friends and even got

together to play music with some friends from my high school mountaineering days, one of whom I hadn't seen in over 40 years. I also got a chance to play Celtic music with the Benicia Session. It was very good to see everyone. I spent more time in Benicia than I had intended, which put me a bit behind schedule. I still had 9,000 miles of driving to complete and many more people to see.