The drive from Reno, through Truckee into the Sacramento Valley is generally enjoyable, but fatigue lingered even though this is the most awesome stretch of I-80. People were driving down the hill like madmen. I was not, as I just wanted to reach my final destination without incident.
After a stop in Sacramento, and a 2nd in Silicon Valley I was relieved that the traffic on Highway 17, the last leg of the journey, was backed up in the opposite direction heading east.
As it was Sunday and warm, Santa Cruz was still loaded with too many tourists and their cars. Amazingly about everyone seemed to drive with caution in the city.
After unloading the car, I took a needed shower, and hiked to the pier. It felt so good to walk. It will be, again, a daily habit.
Santa Cruz is so quintessential California – a place that would make Trump’s base very uneasy. No worries, as they rarely pass through. There is so much weird diversity here that I even fit in, in an odd sort of way.
I craved a good fish taco since leaving Maryland, and I found it at the near-end of the pier. I am sure the locals know of better spots, but along with two glasses of Chardonnay, it was as good as it gets.
As the sun set Latino music filled the air and people were dancing as if summer were still here. The homeless were settling in for the night, some on the beach, others on the boardwalk. What a world apart they live in.
Tomorrow I enter the secret compound. My contact asked me to come in at 9:30 a.m. via text. That’s so perfect. I am back home in California.
