Two childhood buddies, all grown up and now reconnected through Facebook. They had a plan. Brad would come up to our house for the weekend. He and Greg would ride their Harleys, visit the Rock Store, swing by Neptune’s Net for shrimp and brews, cruise PCH and then head to a concert by Sammy Hagar’s new band, Chicken Foot. A dream weekend for two mature bikers dudes!However, life has a way of interjecting itself into our best laid plans. Brad’s a single dad and his son presented him, on Friday morning with a fresh batch of challenges, which unfortunately prevented Brad from visiting us for the weekend.
My poor husband was crestfallen. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning that opened the package with the Red Ryder BB Gun, only to find that the BB's are sold separately. “I am so bummed, he can’t come” “I understand why he can’t make it…but what will I do with the Chicken Foot tickets”, he lamented. Being the loving wife of course I offered to step in and take Brad’s place as the “Biker Dudette”. No dice. “It’s not the same, it’s a guy thing”. He was right, so I rattled off a list of other suitable possibilities. He was not in the mood for a substitute.
“Okay, here’s another idea then, go get the trailer, and we’ll take off for the weekend instead”. He straightened up in his chair and said “really, where will we go?” I told him I had no idea but that we’d figure it out when we pulled out of the driveway. It was 10:00am and I had a full day of office work to accomplish and still had to pack our food, clothes and other necessities into the trailer by 5:00pm, if we wanted to get out of Dodge before sundown.
I worked, I packed, I conquered (gentlemen, don’t try this at home, only us chicks can multi-task like this!), at 5:05 we were ready to roll. At the end of Blossom Court, Greg turned to me and said “where to?” I said “you choose, north, south or east” (we can’t go west because we don’t have a amphibious trailer!). He said “let’s go north” and I thought that was a great choice. South only brings deadlocked traffic and a mass of humanity. North brings the sweet fields of Oxnard’s strawberries, the coolness of Lake Cachuma, and the Mediterranean of the Pacific, Santa Barbara.
We motored up the road with our trusty Good Sam bible in hand. “Hey, what about this place, Ocean Mesa Campground at El Capitan state beach?” I asked. We had heard about this place from other RV’ers. It’s a private campground with all the trimmings, huge pull through sites, sweeping ocean views, pool, Jacuzzi, walking trails and the nouveau chic campground of El Capitan Canyon next door, with its $ 300.00 a night, willow bed and claw foot tub, canvass tent cabins. Guess the folks who stay at El Cap Canyon really need to get away from the stress and strain of taxing Santa Barbara!
We pulled into Ocean Mesa and found a wide variety of sites available. We chose one at a quiet corner of the park that over looked the Ocean and El Cap Canyon. While Greg got us hooked-up and squared away, I quickly set about making a dinner with some Italian flare. We started with a fresh field green salad with burrata cheese and heirloom tomatoes from our teeny front garden and a spicy pasta puttanesca, featuring some peppers that Greg has been growing in our herb garden. A decent Italian Chianti rounded out our meal. Even Lucky felt satisfied after one or two dried chicken treats. By 9:30 we were cuddled up in bed watching the tube with one eye open each. Not bad for a full day of work and a quick escape behind us.
We awoke to a glorious Saturday morning, warm, clear and bright with potential. We had coffee and breakfast in full view of the Pacific with all of its splendors. We decided that a small adventure was in order. Greg was intrigued with another remote campground that he had long been told about, Jalama Beach. Jalama Beach is a secret Mecca for folks who crave the pristine beaches of California’s yester-years. It lies at the end of a windy, fourteen mile, two lane country road, near Lompoc. If you are not looking for it you won’t ever find it!
Just about the time that I believed my bladder was about to breech, the hills parted and Jalama was revealed before us. It loo
ked like we had emerged onto a beach in rural Brazil, Spain or Uruguay. There are no million dollar homes or gated beach accesses here, only miles of unspoiled California coastline. Campers wait for hours or even days to score one of the few prized sites, as no reservations are ever accepted. We wrangled a day use pass from the attendant and made for the loo. After freshening up, we strolled around the beach and park for awhile. While checking out the waves, we just happened to catch a whiff of burgers being grilled at the Jalama Beach general store. We followed our noses and found a line of people who were in a complete burger trance. We managed to find a burger zombie who had eaten and was able to speak; he explained that Jalama burgers are almost as sublime as the views.
Not wanting to miss out, we ordered what everyone else was devouring, the classic Jalama burger, a lean 1/3lb "steak cut" burger on a toasted sesame seed bun, with fresh shredded lettuce, sweet red onion, vine ripened tomatoes, dill pickles and finished off with their “world famous Jalama Secret Sauce”. We supplemented this with their sizzling fresh cut fries and two cold beers. It was a tremendous combination. The burger was the size of my head, no lie, but we both managed to pack them away (I can’t remember, did I pay my gym membership this month?).
We climbed back into the truck and drove around the campground, making note of the sites we vowed to fight for, upon our promised return. I quickly slid into a burger induced coma and left my poor husband to negotiate alone, the curvy road back to highway 101.
We made it back to Ocean Mesa in plenty of time to enjoy the loveliness of the afternoon sun over the Pacific. Greg went up to the office to pay for another nights stay and returned to our site with a flyer promoting the last concert of a summer concert series at El Cap Canyon that evening. The notice explained that they would be offering a Tri-tip or chicken BBQ meal with all of the fixings (for a fair price) and the music was free. Simply bring your blankets or chairs and your favorite beverages. How could we go wrong with this!
As the sun set, we packed up or chairs, a little folding table and a bottle of chilled Due Ove wine,
the name (pronounced Do-Ay OO-vay) means “two grapes,” which aptly describes this beguiling blend of Pinot Grigio and Sauvignon Blanc grapes.
We managed to find a prime location near the food and music, despite the fact that a mass of folks had arrive from nearby SB and looked as though they had been in there spots since early morning. The scene was very satisfying. Picnic tables set with baskets, wine and candles, Kids jetting around everywhere, people laughing and eating, all ready for a great evening of music under the stars.
The talent was a group called Soulamente Rhythm & Blues. They played some great popular cover tunes. We ate, sipped our wine and even managed to boogie to a few of our favorite tunes. We stayed until they broke into their last set. Greg drove all of our chairs and stuff back up to the campground. I hiked back up the hill and enjoyed the starry night and the last sounds of the concert below. To early still for bed, Greg lit a campfire and we whiled away the evening discussing the day over a little cup of local Lemoncello.
On Sunday morning we woke up, in what looked like Boston or Maine! The fog was so thick that we couldn’t see the rig parked in the next site. Too cold to enjoy the outdoors we hunkered down with some hot coffee and watch some of the morning shows on the tube. As we saw a few glimpses of the sun, we decided to enjoy one last treat before packing up and heading home, brunch!
Greg had bought two pieces of beautiful Black Cod that we need to polish off and I had packed some nice caviar and a bottle of Prosecco. A winner brunch combination to be sure. I put together a nice tray with the caviar, grilled baguette rounds, chopped boiled egg, onions, and sour cream, while Greg marinated the fish for the grill. We enjoyed watching the sun burn holes though the clouds while eating our salty first course. We ate the gorgeous fish with some sautéed baby bok choi. Another wonderful bounty from the sea consumed.
After our plates were cleaned, we packed up camp and hit the road for home. We pulled back into our driveway around two o’clock. Greg phone rang before he could turn the engine off. It was his friend Brad. He wanted to know if he still had the tickets for the Chicken foot concert that evening, or if he had managed to find some other taker. With a broad grin, Greg told him that he still had them. Brad explained that the crisis on the home front was under temporary control, and that he could make it to the concert if the offer still stood. With the date back on , the two friends arranged to meet in the parking lot of Universal City.
It’s great to be at a place in life where we can be serendipitous. We feel a bit like a boat with a really light anchor. When the winds change, we can quickly, hoist it up, set a new course, and we then drift along in that new direction. Who knows what the wind will bring this week!
Not wanting to miss out, we ordered what everyone else was devouring, the classic Jalama burger, a lean 1/3lb "steak cut" burger on a toasted sesame seed bun, with fresh shredded lettuce, sweet red onion, vine ripened tomatoes, dill pickles and finished off with their “world famous Jalama Secret Sauce”. We supplemented this with their sizzling fresh cut fries and two cold beers. It was a tremendous combination. The burger was the size of my head, no lie, but we both managed to pack them away (I can’t remember, did I pay my gym membership this month?).
We climbed back into the truck and drove around the campground, making note of the sites we vowed to fight for, upon our promised return. I quickly slid into a burger induced coma and left my poor husband to negotiate alone, the curvy road back to highway 101.
We made it back to Ocean Mesa in plenty of time to enjoy the loveliness of the afternoon sun over the Pacific. Greg went up to the office to pay for another nights stay and returned to our site with a flyer promoting the last concert of a summer concert series at El Cap Canyon that evening. The notice explained that they would be offering a Tri-tip or chicken BBQ meal with all of the fixings (for a fair price) and the music was free. Simply bring your blankets or chairs and your favorite beverages. How could we go wrong with this!
As the sun set, we packed up or chairs, a little folding table and a bottle of chilled Due Ove wine,
the name (pronounced Do-Ay OO-vay) means “two grapes,” which aptly describes this beguiling blend of Pinot Grigio and Sauvignon Blanc grapes.
We managed to find a prime location near the food and music, despite the fact that a mass of folks had arrive from nearby SB and looked as though they had been in there spots since early morning. The scene was very satisfying. Picnic tables set with baskets, wine and candles, Kids jetting around everywhere, people laughing and eating, all ready for a great evening of music under the stars.
The talent was a group called Soulamente Rhythm & Blues. They played some great popular cover tunes. We ate, sipped our wine and even managed to boogie to a few of our favorite tunes. We stayed until they broke into their last set. Greg drove all of our chairs and stuff back up to the campground. I hiked back up the hill and enjoyed the starry night and the last sounds of the concert below. To early still for bed, Greg lit a campfire and we whiled away the evening discussing the day over a little cup of local Lemoncello.
On Sunday morning we woke up, in what looked like Boston or Maine! The fog was so thick that we couldn’t see the rig parked in the next site. Too cold to enjoy the outdoors we hunkered down with some hot coffee and watch some of the morning shows on the tube. As we saw a few glimpses of the sun, we decided to enjoy one last treat before packing up and heading home, brunch!
Greg had bought two pieces of beautiful Black Cod that we need to polish off and I had packed some nice caviar and a bottle of Prosecco. A winner brunch combination to be sure. I put together a nice tray with the caviar, grilled baguette rounds, chopped boiled egg, onions, and sour cream, while Greg marinated the fish for the grill. We enjoyed watching the sun burn holes though the clouds while eating our salty first course. We ate the gorgeous fish with some sautéed baby bok choi. Another wonderful bounty from the sea consumed.
After our plates were cleaned, we packed up camp and hit the road for home. We pulled back into our driveway around two o’clock. Greg phone rang before he could turn the engine off. It was his friend Brad. He wanted to know if he still had the tickets for the Chicken foot concert that evening, or if he had managed to find some other taker. With a broad grin, Greg told him that he still had them. Brad explained that the crisis on the home front was under temporary control, and that he could make it to the concert if the offer still stood. With the date back on , the two friends arranged to meet in the parking lot of Universal City.
It’s great to be at a place in life where we can be serendipitous. We feel a bit like a boat with a really light anchor. When the winds change, we can quickly, hoist it up, set a new course, and we then drift along in that new direction. Who knows what the wind will bring this week!
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