Day 2 – San Juan Bautista

Please note the spelling change of the town we’re closest to. As we were driving into town this morning, I noticed the name on the City’s signboard, and grumped to Don about our error. He agreed to correct it, so all is well. It’s not like we haven’t been here many times before, and weren’t familiar with the spelling, it’s probably just that after a long day and many miles, “mistakes are made.”

We love this little town, it’s as close as you can find to an early California Mission village, and it’s very dog friendly. The main street is filled with buildings from the 19th century, and the Mission itself is a noble piece of architecture. Don likes the grassy plaza area in front of the Mission and the stable on the far side, mostly because they have a big part in his favorite movie, Hitchcock’s Vertigo. We noticed that there is even a Vertigo coffee house in town now, it wasn’t here during our last visit. We were going to visit Fremont Peak State Park, which is on a hilltop overlooking San Juan, but found out on the web that it was closed today. It’s where General Fremont first flew the American Flag over California territory during a battle with the local Mexican militia. We’ll have to plan our next visit better.

We headed on over to Hollister, a much larger and much more modern town than San Juan (1920’s vs. 1880’s), and a place that Geri and Don hadn’t visited since before I was born. Don told me about that trip; he wanted to make it from San Francisco to Ventura without travelling on any major highways, like the 5 or the 101, or even the 1! They endured unpaved corduroy roads and recalcitrant cattle blocking their passage until they finally gave up in Santa Margherita. They had spent the night in Hollister, and today Don pointed out a restaurant and asked Geri if she remembered the great steak dinner we had there. Geri responded negatively, she remembered dinner in Hollister, but that wasn’t the place. I got a little tense, expecting a battle, but it blew over quickly. Don has a particular affection for Hollister, ‘cause he attended a motorcycle weekend here with his Father when he was nine years old. Hollywood made a movie about that weekend, called “The Wild Ones”, with a guy named Marlon Brando. Don says he doesn’t remember engaging in most of the activity shown in the movie.

After a stop at home base, we headed over to the coast. I was reluctant to go with them, due to the heat. But they made sure I had lots of breeze blowing through my private compartment, and as we neared the coast, it cooled down a lot. We went to several State Parks at the beach to try to find a place where I could accompany them on a beach walk, but none of them were dog friendly. Don remembered a beach down at Moss Landing that we had visited a couple of years ago, and we headed down there. We got a good parking place, and headed for the ocean. When Don and I reached the surf, I looked at him and sent a very clear message: I’m not going in the water! He knows I’m not a typical Goldie, and certainly not a bit like old Buddy, who would surf until he collapsed from exhaustion. Yeah, I got my paws wet, and it felt good, and I found a very sweet looking young lady who admired my good looks and let me sit on her foot. But when I got back to the truck, I was still bone dry. Don was muttering about going to all this trouble to get me some beach time and winding up with a canine Gidget who won’t get in the water, but I can only say that I appreciated the trouble he went to, and I had a very nice time with the little lady.

We headed back to Betabel after a stop at a produce stand in Moss Landing to buy some artichokes, which aren’t part of my diet. Don produced a splendid pasta dinner with his own homemade meat sauce, which I love. Great plates! Geri and I went for a very pleasant walk after the temperature went down a bit, and then I worked with Don on the blog. And so to bed; long and eventful day! We travel tomorrow, don’t know where to, but I’ll be sure to let you know.