Half Moon Bay, California

Trip Start Apr 12, 1992
1
24
65
Trip End Jun 15, 1992


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Flag of United States  , California
Tuesday, May 5, 1992

"You must be 21 to be served." How about people 22 or older?
5-5-92
Half Moon Bay, California
Mild, clear When I awoke there seemed to be no one around for miles. I had parked at a pull-off on the side of the mountain. Above me the road curved to disappear behind the mountain. Below, several loops of pavement were visible where the road circled down the mountain. There was nothing to indicate anyone was near. While I struggled to come awake I heard a loud voice. It came from nowhere, and everywhere. For a moment I thought, God has finally decided to talk to me. Glory! Hallelujah! I hurried to the window. Lo! and Behold! Down the mountain came an old white-Bearded dude on a large robin-egg blue Harley. He was towing a two-wheeled trailer, charging down the mountain, radio blaring loud enough I could still hear the disc-jockey when he passed from view around a curve a half mile below.

Shortly after I got underway a van running ahead of me suddenly swerved on the road and pulled off on the shoulder. Suspecting he had mechanical troubles I pulled off behind him to offer assistance. Before I could get parked he walked back to the spot where he swerved and picked up by its tail a snake about six feet long, returned to his van, and threw the snake, I hope dead, into the van, climbed in, and off he went.

I figure what happened is this: People out here are killing snakes on the rosd but they are not leaving their trophies. They take them home so they can brag about the heroic hand to fang battle with a demon snake they killed with their bare hands. Perhaps they make belts or sell the hides. For sure they don't leave them lying on the road.

Elevations continued to drop as I headed wesr through Chinese Camp to Oakdale and Escalon where I stopped to do laundry. Escalon has a large Mexican population and hispanic ladies filled the laundramat. I don't know what it is about my appearance in a laundramat that provokes such mirth.

Soon I got caught up in the horror of california freeway traffic. While on a brief rest stop in Palo Alto I examined the local Press Democrat newspaper. A reporter named Pamela Hegarty wrote about a local lady named evelyn Burkhalter, who is the owner/operator of the Barbie Hall of Fame Doll Studio. Evelyn has amassed more than 14,000 items of Barbie Doll memorabilia. She has collected Barbies since the early 1970's She has thelargest collection of Barbies and accessories in the world. The collection illustrates over 40 years of changes in styles.

Once I arrived beyond Redwood City and Menlo Park the countryside became attractive again. It is an area of ranches on rolling hills, with heavily timbered tracts mixed in. The sky became overcast, the air cooler, and the smell of the ocean and eucalyptus trees rode the air.

I arrived at beautiful San Gregario and the Pacific. The overcast grew so thick it was difficult to make out where sky and water met Both were gray. Along the shoreline high cliffs concealed isolated rocky beaches. Between the beach areas the cliff dropped straight down to gray water. I tarried alond untilI reached Half Moon Bay, a town so inviting I could go no farther. I spent the night parked on main street where i became enthralled by the patterns and colors of city lights working wonders in a dense fog blanket.
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