The Martin Motel

Taken 7/4/2012
Rockwell City, IA

Looks like there's plenty of vacancies. And maybe a homicidal mother obsessed proprietor to help you in and out of the shower...

Sundays With Mom & Dad

For the first time pictures that feature... people! No doors, signs, windows or undersides of bridges here. Instead, an in depth look at what my parents do with their Sundays.

Taken  9/15/2013

Day 9: That's A Wrap

NOT the OC

So I've been re-corrected. Apparently almost none of yesterday was in the OC. Oh well. I'd mistakenly referred to the city as "the LA area" previously and was told it was called the OC. But not all of it I guess. I'm from out of town and though I'm sure it's vitally important to the locals to differentiate the two (just try telling someone living in Windsor Heights, West Des Moines or Clive it's "all Des Moines" back home) but I must admit it doesn't really matter to me. Sorry LA and OC-ers. I'm going back to calling it all "the LA area."

They're On a Mission From God

In 1983 I visited southern California on a family roadtrip. Visited family in "the LA area" and also some family in San Diego. And while I don't remember stopping at the Mission San Juan Capistrano when traveling between the two cities, I had indeed been there before. I confirmed that by texting my parents and asking if we'd stopped there way back then. Because I recognized something. Not the mission itself. I don't remember a thing about that. (Not surprising, I'm sure a 13 year old couldn't have been less interested). What I did recognize was the tacky Capistrano Trading Post souvenir store across the street... which apparently hasn't changed in at least 30 years.

Hasn't changed in 30 years!

Leapin' Lizards!

I'm from the Midwest. Whenever I travel anywhere that has lizards just running around like we have squirrels or chipmunks back home, I get a charge out of that. I wonder if 13-year-old me tried to catch any lizards while getting drug through the Mission back in 1983? I appreciated it a bit more this time through.

Land Ho! (Who You Callin' a Ho?)

I've passed through many towns and of those towns, many have their own special festivals at one time of year or another. I've seen signs for things like Strawberry Days, Clam Festivals and Artichoke Festivals. The Tall Ships Festival (brought to you by Toshiba. Because when you think of Toshiba you think of old style tall mast sailing ships, right?) in Dana Point happened to actually coincide with my trip though. Unfortunately the shuttle and parking situation turned what I was hoping would be a quick hour or so stop into a three hour ordeal. Still, seeing the ships and walking on their decks was very cool, and not something I'll ever get the chance to do back home. Not a lot of tall mast pirate ships on Saylorville Lake.

Literally Tons of Fun

OK, I'm going to admit something right off the bat - when I arrived at Sea World it was fucking miserable. Nearly 90, not a cloud in the sky and horribly crowded. Can I just say children are a plaque? Like locusts but worse. And the shows were somewhat disappointing. The dolphin show consisted mostly of some sort of bizarre parrot themed Cirque de Soleil knock-off (I actually left it early, was miserable in the direct sun), and the Shamu show seemed to exist only so the killer whales could splash the first 15 rows. Where was the dramatic jump out of the water with a trainer balanced on the nose of one of the killer whales?!?! 

Things got better as the families started leaving around 5:00 and things cooled off. I got the chance to see the animals I wanted to, cool off in the penguin experience, find out that Wild Arctic is still a fun ride (though not the mind-blowing experience it was when I first rode it back in the late 90s, they need to update the ride/technology), got to enjoy sea otters play wrestling each other with almost nobody else around watching, watch the beluga whales and sea turles, and go through the shark tube.

*nudge nudge*

During the aforementioned family roadtrip to San Diego we visited Sea World. The walrus viewing area was much different then than it is now. The the walruses (Why is it "walruses" but "cacti?" Why isn't it "walri"?) were in an open air habitat surround by a wall, and you looked down into the pool to see them playing in the water below you. On this occasion the big bull walrus was just rolling over and over in the water. While watching him play my father gave me an elbow nudge, pointed to the walrus below and said "Check out the size of the wang on him." And yes, it was quite large. Very proportional to the size of the animal. Heck, I'd even say he was well hung.

Years later I told my dad that memory and he said "Of all the stuff we did that day you remember THAT?"






My Future As a Mexican Wrestler

Just when I thought my day was over and I could lay down, I end up at a hotel just two blocks from Old Town. And there's an old car show! Which, unfortunately, I was about 10 minutes too late for. Oh well. There were still a few cars around. And I spotted some Mexican wrestler masks in one of the shops and it has me rethinking my career. From now on please refer to me as El Mike-o.

Day 8: Welcome to the OC

Oxnard & Malibu

The day started by heading south out of Santa Barbara. Highway 1 split off from being conjoined with the 101 in Oxnard. My entire association with Oxnard is a Louis Black quote from Big Bang Theory. 

"I can identify every insect and arachnid on the planet. Not that that's going to keep me from having to move in with my daughter in Oxnard. And we're not talking Oxnard at the beach. No! We're talking Oxnard in the onion fields."

I did drive by some fields, but not sure they were onions. Everything was covered in big sheets of white plastic. Entire fields. maybe there were onion under there.

Then on around the bend of the Santa Monica Mountains and through the long narrow city of Malibu. This was the stereotypical southern California ocean drive - mountains on one side of the road, ocean on the other. 

This Place Smells Like Asphalt

When I was a kid I had two dream jobs. Being a marine biologist (see Day 4 and Day 5 for my aquarium visit, and the culmination of my trip will be Sea World in San Diego tomorrow) or a paleontologist. I've always been particularly interested in Ice Age animals. This may explain why an adult male with no children has seen all the Ice Age movies. How lousy was that last one, huh? Anyway, I've always wanted to visit the La Brea Tarpits. (That's Spanish for "the brea tarpits.") Mammoth skeletons, the "Fishbowl" where work on fossils is actually done, an animatronic sabertooth attacking a giant sloth, a wall of over 400 dire wolf skulls, plus a view of the active tarpit out in the park actually still be excavated... the little paleontologist that lives inside me was very happy today.

The Freeways

When you think of LA you think of freeways. And the traffic. The city and the entire OC are crisscrossed with them. From the tarpits to my next destination I hopped on the 110. Not Interstate 110. Not I-110. Not *A* 110. But THE 110. As if you'd get it mixed up with another 101. When I get home I'm going to start calling 235 "the 235" and see if it catches on. I must say drivng the LA freeways wasn't quite the paved hellscape I expected it to be. Granted, it was 2 in the afternoon, not exactly peak time. But overall I found I got used to it.  The traffic everywhere seems to have a certain rhythm to it - seems chaotic at first, but it comes to make sense. Eventually. Just don't fight it and give in. 

Bring Out the Big Guns

Off the 110 and onto the decks of the USS Iowa. Where I got in for free! Because I'm from Iowa and the state of Iowa donated $3M (I was told this several times) for the ship's restoration. A donation on the condition anyone from the state gets to tour the ship for free. Iowa visitors are a regular occurrence, as one of the volunteers was very well versed in the Hawks vs the Cyclones rivalry (I was wearing a Cyclones shirt).

Try not to imagine Cher straddling these guns in a thong.

Luckily the men serving on the USS Iowa had easy access to Coke products and refreshing Desani bottled water.

Under the Boardwalk

I'm not sure why of all the beachfront towns in LA I picked Venice Beach to visit. Maybe because anytime any movie or TV needs to an "offbeat" beach setting, it's Venice Beach. Typical boardwalk - T-Shirt shops, ice cream, tattoo places, artists, live musicians, pizza by the slice... and medical marijuana! At regular intervals I was offered the chance to see if I would qualify for medical marijuana. My feet were a little sore from all the walking... so I'm betting I would've qualified. Nothing makes you forget your sore feet like getting high. Not typical boardwalk however was the complete and total lack of an actual boardwalk. All paved... to quote Bruce Willis in Die Hard... "Fuckin' California."

I wonder if there's anywhere I can get a souvenir T-Shirt? Or maybe some medical marijuana? 

Venice Beach also has the curved sidewalk beach adjacent the is featured in any movie or TV show where a cop needs to chase down a skateboarding or rollerblading suspect. They're chased down the curving sidewalk and invariably tackled in sand.

Ahhhhh... Venice

I would absolutely love to live on the canals of Venice Beach. Hard to believe this quiet idyllic setting was just a couple blocks from the insanity and weirdness of the boardwalk. I happened upon the canal walk by accident, because I missed the parking lot, didn't want to deal with driving back down Pacific Avenue so just parked several blocks off the beach. The parking was free (instead of $9) and I got to enjoy strolling along these canals.

There were several house for sale along the canal... is there such a thing as a 300-year fixed rate mortgage?

And Get Off My Lawn!

Time to make myself sound like an old fogie. How is the extreme baggy look still in? It's been around for 20 years now. Shouldn't things have cycled back to tight by now? Heck, it should probably have gone back and forth several times by now. But that really isn't the point of this photo... I don't understand how guys that wear their pants this loose keep them from falling completely off their ass. I've been having trouble keeping my pants up (I need a smaller belt) and have to keep pulling them up. How do they do it with shorts like that? I want to know!

Day 7: The Golden Gate, 17 Miles and BING BING BING

Crossing the Golden Gate

Headed into San Francisco I got a proper California welcome by being stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. Made it in eventually, across the famous Golden Gate bridge (I got several views of the Bay Bridge also, and by all accounts it seems to be a more impressive structure. Shame it's such a boring not-worth-being-famous gray color), even got the chance to travel down the traditional SF street, meaning one that's steep and flattens out for cross streets. I was really only doing maybe 25, but I might have been imagining I was involved in a classic high speed chase, the kind that takes place in every show or move set in SF. Then it was a briefs stop in Firsherman's Wharf, a photo of Alcatraz Island (I was there last time I was here... in 1991). I wanted to do the cable car thing, but turned right instead of left when looking for them, then didn't have the time. Next time San Francisco, next time.

17 Miles

Then if was off to Monterrey (where I assume the Cheese was invented) to take in scenic 17-Mile Drive. *BING BING BING* (More on that later.) The drive twists and turns through the , past gold courses and very nice homes. With about 20 marked stops along the way, for particular views of this or that. Monterrey peninsula. SIghts such as Bird Rock (which was actualy covered by barking sea lions), the Lone Cypress and the Ghost Tree.

Where's My Bunny Suit?

17 Mile Drive also goes passes by the famous Pebble Beach gold course, which I used to rule on Tiger Woods. *BING BING BING* Unfortunately I didn't pack my bunny suit (those that have played the game know what I mean) so didn't play a round. I also don't play real golf (though I intend to start someday) and didn't have the $500 to spend I heard a round costs. Well, I have $500 but I wouldn't spend it on that. 

BING BING BING

While driving south out of San Francisco I started hearing a *BING BING BING* noise. Didn't notice it at first, thought it was part of a song on the radio. Then realized the battery warning light was on. Crap. I unplugged everything I had plugged in. Kept going off. I'd psyched myself up for the Big Sur drive even though the guidebook described it as "narrow and twisty, and sometimes full of slow moving RVs." I did NOT enjoy that kind of drive on Day 6, but figured I'd survived that. But what with the possible car trouble I bypassed Big Sur. I didn't want to get stuck out there, where cell phone service was reportedly spotty at best. So back into the 101, where I discovered...

WHERE SALAD COMES FROM

Being from Iowa I'm used to driving by farm fields. But back home, they're either corn, more corn, even more corn or once and awhile soybeans. Here I was driving by what appears to be fields of onions, lettuce and based on the smell at one point, broccoli. (And luckily the *BING BING BING* stopped. Did the car heal itself? Will it start up again on Day 8? Time will tell..)

Sunset at Pismo Beach

Got into Pismo Beach just in time to stop and watch the sunset. I wish I'd had my Jeep - they let you drive right onto the beach here. That would've been cool, but I didn't trust the Mustang on the sand. The only cars out there were of the truck and SUV variety. After sunset I pushed through to Santa Barbara so I'd have a shorter jaunt into LA in the morning.

Day 6: Lumberjacks, Giants and a LOT Of Swearing

I'm A Lumberjack And I'm OK

The Somoa Cookhouse was fairly quiet on a Wednesday morning. The restaurant serves its meals lumberjack style, meaning long tables that seat 20 or so. And the menu itself couldn't have been simpler. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Literally. On the wall was written Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner, with prices for kids and adults. That's it. Breakfast consists of eggs, sausage, pancakes and/or biscuits and gravy. I opted for just pancakes and sausage. No biscuits and gravy, I've thought they were gross. Delicious. It's an all-you-want kind of place, but one serving was enough for me - three big pancakes and 5 sausage links. All in all a great way to start the day. I was ready to chop some wood when I was done!

Getting Wood

Avenue of the Giants is the "old" Highway 101. The "new" Highway 101 is now 4 lanes, nice and wide and less winding through this area. It's a shame that most people by bypass this scenic alternate route. I dropped the top on the Mustang and drove at a leisurely pace through the Redwoods. Much closer than I'd have been on the newer freeway. Plus it's hard to appreciate the grandeur of anything when you're flying by at 65 miles an hour. I took it slow, stopped for a hike (and to see the remains of the Dyerville Giant which fell in 1991), pulled over often just to look, and all-in-all spent a couple hours among these magnificent trees. 

That's the base of the Dyerville Giant just above - a 17-foot diameter at its base. There were lots of felled Redwoods throughout the short hike I took. Others had been partially burned (from lightning strikes) and continued to live even semi-hollowed out.

Literal Log Cabin

The One Log House is one of those kitschy road-side attractions that make road trips like this one worth taking. It is literally a log cabin. One log. Singular. It once toured the country on the back of a flatbed truck but retired here long ago. Where it serves as a marketing gimmick to get people to buy coffee and souvenirs. 

FUCK SCENIC DRIVES!

South of the One Log House you can veer off of the 101 (the same highway I'd been on since Washington) for the start of Highway 1. Where the 101 turns in, the 1 hugs the coast. When planning my trip at home in the entirely cliff-free state of Iowa, that's what I decided to do, take the 1. That decision is one I soon came to regret. The next several hours were a stressful nightmare up steep climbs, steep drops, ridiculous twists and turns, with the roadway barely wide enough for two lanes of traffic with sheer drops of hundreds of feet down a cliff into the ocean on one side. Not a leisurely drive. I'm sure the views were nice, but I couldn't look. I had to focus. And I started getting cranky. On more than one occasion (probably 30 or 40 occasions) I glanced at the GPS to see the road ahead and said out loud "YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME." I started an inner monologue of near constant swearing, similar to the near constant swearing I think of when I mow the lawn. FUCK RVS. FUCK "SHARNG THE ROAD" WITH FUCKING IDIOT CYCLISTS ON THEIR FUCKING BIKES ON THIS FUCKING ROAD. FUCK FUCK FUCK. By the time I reached Bodega Bay (Where Hitchcock's The Birds was filmed!) I'd had enough. I cut back inland to the 101. Which at this point was 6 lanes. Six glorious, nearly straight lanes. I could'e kissed it.

In-N-Out Burger

For years I've heard people I know rave about In-N-Out Burgers. So I figured as long as I was on the west coast I'd try their burgers out for myself and see if they live up to the hype. Well... they don't. It was OK. Nothing compared to B-Bops back home. I'd rank it below Five Guys as well. There was too much lettuce and not enough meat. Needed more sauce too, tasted like bread and lettuce for most bites. Better than McDs I suppose. But at least now I know. 

Jack-In-the-Box was also better. I had them for the first time last night.

And I've been given a lead for another burger chain I may have to try tomorrow.