There's an old saying in the world of road tripping. "It's the journey, not the destination." That couldn't have been more applicable than on this trip, which ran along Highway 1, then into Los Padres National Forest, before looping back around to the coast and then ending in the most surreal of places.
But before we get ahead of ourselves, we need to start at the beginning. A few words on the mode of transportation; the 2010 Ford Mustang. The new model boasts a bit more horsepower than its predecessors along with increased fuel economy. The interior features the standard cheap plastic dashboard that furnishes most cars these days. The handling and braking is excellent and the accleration is accompanied by the loud roar of the 315 horsepower V6 engine thundering to life at the touch of the gas pedal.
But before we get ahead of ourselves, we need to start at the beginning. A few words on the mode of transportation; the 2010 Ford Mustang. The new model boasts a bit more horsepower than its predecessors along with increased fuel economy. The interior features the standard cheap plastic dashboard that furnishes most cars these days. The handling and braking is excellent and the accleration is accompanied by the loud roar of the 315 horsepower V6 engine thundering to life at the touch of the gas pedal.
I nicknamed it, "Black Thunder."Our starting point will be the Highway 1 entrance on Lincoln and Santa Monica boulevards. Keep in mind also that this is a three hour driving challenge, the journey ending when the clock reaches three hours of driving. I'm also taking on another challenge called, "Eat the Vowels," which will involve me eating food starting with the letters, "A, E, I, O, U," and, "Y." I can only eat one letter per meal.
OK, so logistics aside, the journey begins up the fabled Highway 1, as it twists and turns through Malibu, past Pepperdine University and through Zuma Beach. As the highway ends, I stay to the right, where the street becomes Rice St. and pass through about two miles of strawberry and blueberry patches, before turning right and jumping on the northbound 101 Freeway. Traffic is pretty horrendous this holiday weekend and I haven't eaten yet. I decide to take the next exit I see - Channel Island Harbor. It sounds promising. I take a left at the Victoria St. signal and follow the signs directing me to the "Ocean Front."
The road passes through about three miles of orchards with small, quaint country markets on every street corner. I stop in at one called A&F Country Market and cross off the letter, "Y," off my list as I purchase a bag of yogurt pretzels from a lovely young lady named Shayna. A block down from this market, you'll pass the National Mushroom Museum, if you're curious enough to visit. I'm not. Eventually the road curves toward the ocean and since I don't immediately see a Mom-and-Pop type breakfast spot, I settle for a Carrows nestled in a small strip mall.
I'm greeted by my overly-enthusiastic waitress, Nancy, who instead of bringing me my order of iced coffee, brings me a tumbler of ice and a small pot of coffee. Interesting. Also interesting is the menu. The Apple Caramel Dream immediately catches my eye. The service is quick and before I even have a chance to wash my hands, my breakfast sits in front of me. Along with the standard scrambled eggs are two sausage links, a slab of ham, country potatoes with a few small slices of onions in it and the Apple Caramel Dream. It is essentially a pancake wrapped around apple pie filling, at least that what it tastes like. The dish isn't very filling, but it's not horrible.
Sweet, but not very filling. Avoid the iced coffee.Instead of jumping right back into the car, I decide to check out the area. Walking toward the beach, you suddenly get a small beach-town feeling wash over you. About a block down, I stumble upon a crowded burger joint with a large sign that says, "Duke's Bitchin' Burgers." With a sign like that, I HAD to check it out.
You see a sign like this on a road trip, you MUST stop in.Duke's is a family fun center, sports bar, beach burger hut and entertainment center all wrapped in one. Surfers, bikers, sunbathers and tourists alike wait in a line that stretches out the door and down the sidewalk. More importantly, this place has something called an Ortega burger and while the menu mentioned nothing of what was in this creation, I decided to trust my apple caramel covered gut and go for it.
The burger is amazing. The Ortega burger is a patty, lettuce, pickles and a thick slice of mild jalapeno on a toasted mayonaisse and mustard covered bun. The first bite is extremely creamy with a very light touch of spice from the jalapeno.
The burger is amazing. The Ortega burger is a patty, lettuce, pickles and a thick slice of mild jalapeno on a toasted mayonaisse and mustard covered bun. The first bite is extremely creamy with a very light touch of spice from the jalapeno.
Two words; creamy and peppery. As the conflicting juices of jalapeno and apple caramel go to war in my can't-eat-another-bite stomach, I decide to check out the beach. On my way over to the sand, I finally realize what city I'm in; San Buenaventura. Carefully make your through the first twenty yards of the sand on the beach as it's littered with small wood chips and bits of tar. Once your get past that hazard, the off-white sandy beach is quite a sight to behold. Bulky, broad rock jettys shoot about 100 yards out into the Pacific.
Make it past the wood chips and tar and this beach is gorgeous!As much as I would like to spend the day here, I still have time left to drive. Back in the car, I decide to continue North along the 101 for as long as my patience can hold. It's not long before I shoot off onto the Highway 150 exit. I have no idea where this road leads except away from the ocean. About three miles into this highway, a sign pops out of the shrubs, proclaiming that if I stay on this highway, I'll eventually end up in Ojai.
Highway 150 is a one-lane twisty mountain highway that gradually rises to about 1,000 ear-popping feet up before easing you back down a series of hairpin turns and setting you up for the next incline. About seven miles into this roller coaster, I notice a large body of water off to the right. This is Lake Castias. The manner in which this lake introduces itself to you is breath-taking. You'll first notice it from about 800 feet up, giving you an amazing view of the entire lake along with the broad mountains that surround it.
Highway 150 is a one-lane twisty mountain highway that gradually rises to about 1,000 ear-popping feet up before easing you back down a series of hairpin turns and setting you up for the next incline. About seven miles into this roller coaster, I notice a large body of water off to the right. This is Lake Castias. The manner in which this lake introduces itself to you is breath-taking. You'll first notice it from about 800 feet up, giving you an amazing view of the entire lake along with the broad mountains that surround it.
Lake Castias from about 800 feet up Highway 150.As I approach Ojai, the cool sea breeze has transformed into a warm summer wind. It's nice while you're driving, but once you stop moving and start walking in it, it's downright miserable. Upon my arrival in Ojai, I know right away that the letter, "I," on my list is going to be ice cream and I'm probably going to have to eat it pretty quickly.
I stop at the Ojai Ice Cream Shop and after browsing the myriad of flavors decide to go with something called Coconut Vanilla. While it sounds like it would make a tempting coffee creamer, the flavor also makes an interesting ice cream. The two distinct flavors seem to begrudgingly agree to get along, but would rather settle upon thier own ice cream cone.
Ojai has a clean small town feel to it, much like El Segundo, California. The original post office towers in the center of the town and there are parks everywhere you turn.
Highway 150 continues through Ojai and eventually ends in Santa Paula, a destination that sounds a lot more glamourous than it actually is. Located in the heart of the Santa Clara River Valley, the self-proclaimed Citrus Capital of the World is filled with a heavy Hispanic influence. Walking down Main St. is a perfect example of this as tacquerias and thrift shops line the sidewalk. After walking around, I decide to eliminate the letter, "E," from my list and stop in at a small Mexican restaurant called La Terraza Restaurant and order the Enchilada and Tamale combo. It's nothing spectacular but it's filling.
As long as I'm here, I decide I might as well stop in one of the thrift shops. After browsing around, I find a wooden thermometer/barometer/humidity gauge for $20... or is it $10? After asking the cashier, we agree on a price of $15. (As I write this it's 68 degrees, 74% humidity and the barometric pressue is 29.70, whatever that means.)
The afternoon in Santa Paula is no where near those numbers mentioned above, so I decide to hop on the next highway, the one that will take me westward toward the ocean. Highway 126 is about four blocks down from the center of town and after a short twenty minute run, it connects with Highway 101, which still remains crowded, so I merge over to Highway 1 and hit my three hour time limit a couple miles before Faria State Beach. I pull off to the side and realize that a "hidden beach," that I'd found on a prior excursion through here is about a two-mile walk northward.
I stop at the Ojai Ice Cream Shop and after browsing the myriad of flavors decide to go with something called Coconut Vanilla. While it sounds like it would make a tempting coffee creamer, the flavor also makes an interesting ice cream. The two distinct flavors seem to begrudgingly agree to get along, but would rather settle upon thier own ice cream cone.
Ojai has a clean small town feel to it, much like El Segundo, California. The original post office towers in the center of the town and there are parks everywhere you turn.
Highway 150 continues through Ojai and eventually ends in Santa Paula, a destination that sounds a lot more glamourous than it actually is. Located in the heart of the Santa Clara River Valley, the self-proclaimed Citrus Capital of the World is filled with a heavy Hispanic influence. Walking down Main St. is a perfect example of this as tacquerias and thrift shops line the sidewalk. After walking around, I decide to eliminate the letter, "E," from my list and stop in at a small Mexican restaurant called La Terraza Restaurant and order the Enchilada and Tamale combo. It's nothing spectacular but it's filling.
As long as I'm here, I decide I might as well stop in one of the thrift shops. After browsing around, I find a wooden thermometer/barometer/humidity gauge for $20... or is it $10? After asking the cashier, we agree on a price of $15. (As I write this it's 68 degrees, 74% humidity and the barometric pressue is 29.70, whatever that means.)
The afternoon in Santa Paula is no where near those numbers mentioned above, so I decide to hop on the next highway, the one that will take me westward toward the ocean. Highway 126 is about four blocks down from the center of town and after a short twenty minute run, it connects with Highway 101, which still remains crowded, so I merge over to Highway 1 and hit my three hour time limit a couple miles before Faria State Beach. I pull off to the side and realize that a "hidden beach," that I'd found on a prior excursion through here is about a two-mile walk northward.
My hidden beach, my slice of heaven.After spending a couple hours at my retirement beach, I decide that even though I've reached my three hour limit, it's still barely 5:30p. and I certainly don't want to give up the Mustang just yet. Besides, I haven't found that elusive food item that starts with the letter, "U."
I hop back on Highway 1 and merge back onto the wonderful 101 freeway. Along the way, I pass an exit sign that I know everyone who's driven northbound toward Fresno or San Francisco has seen; Santa Claus Lane. Ever wonder where it went?
I hop back on Highway 1 and merge back onto the wonderful 101 freeway. Along the way, I pass an exit sign that I know everyone who's driven northbound toward Fresno or San Francisco has seen; Santa Claus Lane. Ever wonder where it went?
If you've road-tripped to S.F., you've seen this sign.Immediately after you exit on Santa Claus Lane, the street becomes Lillie Ave., and an amazing shortcut around the traffic on the freeway. The street paralells the 101 for about four miles, much like Sepulveda Blvd. runs alongside the 405. At the fork in the road, go left and you'll continue to paralell the freeway on North Jameson Lane.
Looking off to the right, I notice that the traffic has eased up a bit, so I decide to hop back on the 101. A few miles down, a sign announces that Buellton (yes, the pea soup place) is 30 miles down the road. As I pass by El Capitan Beach, the distinct smell of marshmallows and firewood drift into the car.
Getting to Buellton becomes a heart-pounding, white knuckle ride as you pass through a mountainous canyon area with a street sign warning of gusty winds for the next two miles. The force of the winds are unnerving, especially as you glance over to the left and see the vast Pacific stretching out over the ledge. About four miles in, the winds continue to batter the vehicle and my Last Rites scroll across my mind. Eventually, the winds subside, although the relief is only momentary considering I have to drive back through it to get back to L.A.
At the Buellton exit, I take a right and head toward the Chumash Indian Reservation, however, I never make it there because about four miles down the road, I stumble upon one of those places that only exists in my imagination.
One of the many Danish bakeries in Solvang.Granted, I've seen the town of Solvang on the map, but never imagined what it looks like. The streets are scented with maple syrup and bakeries and wine tasting shops are scattered throughout the Danish town. It is honestly one of the most surreal moments of my life. Giant windmills stand still at the town post office and at an unoccupied building on Fifth St.
A shop proclaims, "It's Christmas Everyday," with two Christmas trees displayed in it's windows and at the local market, instead of a portly Danish dame or gentleman behind the counter, a foul-mouthed middle-aged Guatamalan named Hector rings up customers who undoubtedly have no idea the kind of obscenties he's muttering at the soccer game on a small portable TV beside him.
As I shake off the dream-like stupor that has settled over me, I set about trying to find my, "U," food. I stop into a couple of bakeries, hoping maybe, by chance, there's a Danish pastry that starts with my sought after letter. No such luck.
The evening begins to fade into night and I stop into one last candy shop. I find a bag of UnBEARably Hot Cinnamon Bears. Success! And for good measure I stop back at the market and purchase a @&%*ing bottle of Unsweetened Iced Tea from Hector.
I spend about another hour walking around the town, absorbing the strange place this road trip has ended. As drunk women speed by blowing kisses and shout flirtatous remarks toward me, I hop back in my stallion and prep myself to battle the gusty winds as I head back to L.A.
THE CHALLENGE:
A - Apple Caramel Dream
E - Enchilada and Tamale Combo
I - Ice Cream, Coconut Vanilla Flavor
O - Ortega Burger
U - UnBEARably Hot Cinnamon Bears
Y - Yogurt Pretzels
TOTAL MILEAGE: 350 miles
EXPENSES:
Mustang rental - $42.31
Gas (9.164 gallons) - $28.03
Yogurt Pretzels - $3.00
Carrows Breakfast - $13.00 (tip included)
Ortega Burger and drink - $10.00
Ice Cream - $1.50
Enchilada and Tamale Combo - $10.00
UnBEARably Hot Cinnamon Bears - $3.00
Unsweetened Iced Tea - $2.00
Thermometer/Barometer/Humidity Gauge - $15.00
TOTAL EXPENSE - $127.84
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