It's Monday, February 2nd. Marin and Sonoma Counties have sure changed. When I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s, Marin wasn’t as wealthy as it is now. There were still ordinary houses populated by ordinary people. And I suppose there are still a few of those around. But mostly I saw houses I had remembered as middle-class in appearance upgraded, gentrified and no doubt owned by people who can afford million dollar mortgages. It’s lost its rural feel, and the sense of being someplace where just plain folks could live. I felt like a stranger in a strange land. I just don’t grok the changes, nor do I want to.
I had a wonderful visit with my cousin Tim, his wife Yvette and their kids Austin and Sirelle. Sirelle whispered to her dad that she’d like me to take her to school on my Harley, when I swing back through. Coolness points for her, I guess! I was tired from my ride and stayed a day longer, thereby getting to watch the Superbowl. I’m not a huge football fan, but it was entertaining. I was really hoping the Cardinals would win, but alas, that was not to be.
I set out around 10 a.m. or so, heading down 101. I loved riding across the Golden Gate Bridge and seeing that beautiful San Francisco skyline. It would have been nice if it hadn’t been so hazy. I took 19th Avenue out to 280, 85 to 101 and kept going south. Another beautiful, warm day, little traffic, green hills and gorgeous scenery. It’s been a long time since I headed south on this route – maybe 15 years? Mostly I’ve flown to So Cal, so the changes along the route were quite pronounced – many more houses, large developments and malls. What used to be all farm land, isn’t. Even tiny little Soledad got upgraded.
Going past San Ardo and the oil pumps, I remembered them having antennas so they looked like giant grasshoppers, feeding away. No more antennas. I guess the oil company lost its sense of humor, which is hard to understand given their profit margins. We used to ride the Coast Daylight from Oakland to visit my grandparents in Santa Barbara, and I always looked forward to hitting San Ardo. Those were real trains in those days, with comfy seats, and real food served by black waiters in crisp white linen jackets. I can still remember the Southern Pacific china, the silverware with the logo, the kindness of the staff. Amtrak just doesn’t cut it.
The trip was mostly uneventful, except for two things. It was the first time I had trash thrown at me, and the first time I had a car with blacked-out windows driving next to me for no apparent reason. The nice thing about my bike is it puts out a lot of torque and horsepower, so I lost them behind me. I don’t like having cars riding along next to me. Smells like trouble.
It was too beautiful a ride to be bothered by the meanness of small minded people. I got to my Aunt Mary’s house at about 5:30 p.m. It is so good to see her! And I’m looking forward to exploring Santa Barbara.
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