Coastal Migration

The rains poured down last night as well, and in the morning when the children were tossing in their bunks and sighing loudly to gauge reactions from the parental bed, the sun was already trying to undo some of the damage. The kids put on coats and rainboots over their pajamas and we stomped through puddles and stared from the clifftop out over the beach and ocean below. We had everything packed up and were heading out) stopping at a vacant “hookup” campsite to see of our electrical hookup works should we choose to go that route (it does – juice for the computers down the line!). We headed to Manresa Beach again to see if there was surf, there was huge but choppy surf, not tempting enough to warrant sliding into a rain-soaked wetsuit so Tom ran instead while I drank coffee and picked up shells with half-naked children. We were back in dry clothes and our truck and headed down Highway 1 by 11:30, and although it took nearly two and a half hours of gorgeous views and winding roads for Jordan to claim boredom, I loved it, along with sing along carols and Matthew’s Christmas Mix as soundtrack. Jordan loves “All I Want for Chrsitmas is My Two Front Teeth” and has learned every word. Hopefully she’ll keep on loving it – Tom didn’t lose his front teeth until 4th Grade when his choral teaher mother had him solo the song for the Christmas Concert at school. No doubt a more rousing experience than when Allison and I performed the most silent version of Silent Night at EJ. A recommended hike wasn’t possible due to what I began to refer to as “trailer prejudice” – no parking for trailers – and I regretted a little not stopping after all at the Aquarium. Given the rain, the shortness of the days and the winding road with a trailer, we thought it best to make it closer tour destination, though.

By chance we stopped for a break at a random pullout just North of Hearst Castle’s dominion and climbed down the short cliff at low tide to what was now a hundred-yard stretch of occasional tidepools, hoping to get a better view of the sea lions on the island just past the deeper water’s edge. It was, of course, a wonderful adventure, seeing new sea creatures and scaling rock formations, watching a larger audience of sea lions wonder at us, waiting less in vain for us to do something interesting than we waited: at least we moved around although our noises were less distressing.

We arrived in Morro Bay and headed straight for a familiar beach: a great long stretch of shoreline similar to San Francisco’s Ocean Beach but with a massive hulking island hogging afternoon sunlight from the shore. Again, the surf was to choppy to warrant the excruciating process of changing into the wet wetsuit, especially with only an hour of daylight left. Tom and the kids launched bagel crumbs and tortilla chips into the sky to watch the brazen seagulls dive and catch midair. We collected shells with Jordan, helped Sawyer write S in the sand, and met a 4 yr old and his dad who’s brought a boogie board to sled down the sand dunes. Tom started getting ideas. “A cardboard box, that’s what we need,” he said.

“Or a cookie sheet,” I said and his eyes brightened. “You could stand up on it and see if you can break another rib. “ I couldn’t resist. He grimaced, wither at the remembrance of pain from last Christmas in Santa Fe, or from my lack of marital support I am not sure.

Jordan had another rare episode of tired/hungry/the tyranny of the world out to get her in the form of lost seashells breakdowns and it was time for dinner at our favorite local hole in the wall taco shop. We left an amazing amount of sand in the booth. I hope it’s none to shocking for them. After a quick grocery store where Jordan and Sawyer proved once again how well behaved they can be when well-fed, and we were off to our new campground. Santa Cruz was fairly desolate, a huge change from the month before when we camped at a crowded and warm campground for Tom’s birthday. This new campground at Morro Bay State Park has sited much closer together, the majority of them filled. It is warmer already although we are only 120 miles or so south of where we were. The rains are meant to follow us here tomorrow or he next day. We’ll find an internet hookup tomorrow and know for sure. If it rains we have videos, books, Sorry (Sawyer’s favorite despite his lack of attention or patience or his disinterest in the rules. I think he likes the pretty translucent pieces and the clicking noise they make on the board), Dora Dominoes and Cribbage. And a trailer that doesn’t leak.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and despite wanting to want it to be more about the giving than the getting, Jordan’s fingers are itching to get at the presents she is expecting from Santa. If either of them had seen how full the storage compartment below Sawyer’s bunk was, we would have been living with pure mayhem this whole trip. Right now there’s a lot of veiled threats about Santa and humming of “Oh, you better watch out, you better not cry, you’d better not pout,” and “He sees you when you’re sleeping..” without a lot of evidence to backup the good behavior we’ve been getting. I think it’ll be worth it in the end. Then the post Christmas “I’m sure there’s a Salvation Army around here somewhere” threats will begin in earnest.