We leave Pismo Beach and wave goodbye to the ducks and geese that inhabit the lagoon near the campground.
We fill the RV with gas and once again question our sanity for buying a 30-foot motor home.
We lumber up the Questa grade, the RV valiantly pulling our VW. The heavily loaded transport trucks impatiently pass us by. But this is not a trip for hurry. We are learning the zen of driving up steep grades.
The hillsides are now golden – yellow-gold, brown-gold, gold-gold. Only a few months ago these same hills were a brilliant green.
We are in the mood for Mexican Food and our app “Around Me” mentions “Touch of Mexico” in Templeton. We arrive to find a sign that announces “We Have Papusas”! We are excited by this news as we first discovered papusas on our trip to Belize. They are a thick corn tortilla stuffed with any kind of meat and/or beans and cheese. It’s a clean and charming little restaurant and the food is good.
We also fall in love with the quaint town of Templeton. In the past we have always been in much-too- much of a hurry to get off the highway and explore this little town. The 2010 Census declares Templeton to be a “Census Designated Place” in California. Just a few of the census facts: Population is 7,674; for every 100 females there are 89.1 males; of the 2830 households, 55.5% are opposite-sex married couples living together and 1% same-sex married couples or partnerships. What the 2010 Census fails to mention is that this is a charming, laid-back community surrounded by ancient oaks, nestled in a valley of golden grass. We will return some day.
At King City our GPS says to get off the highway. We are doubting her judgment but we do as we are told. We find ourselves on Bitterswater Road surrounded by miles and miles of seafoam-green cabbage fields. Fred pulls off the road to look at a real paper map. He decides to continue north and make a stop at Pinnacles National Monument, a place we have often talked about visiting.
We continue several more miles on the two-lane road, seldom seeing other vehicles. A pickup truck passes by heading the other way. We imagine the farmer saying to his wife, “Well, lookee there Martha, we don’t see many of THEIR kind in these parts.”
We arrive at Pinnacles Information Center. We don’t know the temperature but we are guessing in the high hundreds. It is hot-hot-hot. We decide this is not the time of year to visit this park. We briefly visit the information center, I buy a couple cute Audubon birds that make chirping sounds, and we once again head north.
We arrive at Casa de Frutta Campground at 5:10 p.m. Again, it’s hot. We find a shady campsite and head for the pool. The water is a bit too cold for me but Fred splashes around delightedly. The sun begins to set and a breeze begins to rustle the leaves.
We grill our little steak and enjoy a cocktail. I blog on my laptop and Fred does something on his. Lights out early.
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