Added to our road woes was a fierce arctic storm that swooped down from the north with gale force winds. Lance fought the wind to the nearest exit at Panoche. It is in the middle of nowhere in the Central Valley. The entire exit consisted of several gas stations and some fast food joints, and yet we were never so happy to see them. We found a parking spot somewhat out of the wind, and we checked the weather.

Lance’s iPhone has earned its keep several times over and that night was no different. NOAA reported that the storm was roaring down in two parts. The first part we’d already met, then there was to be a brief respite around midnight before the second fury reached the Central Valley. So we formulated our plan of attack: rest until midnight and then get the heck out of Dodge.

Amazingly, the plan worked quite well. When we awoke at midnight it was eerily calm, as if the valley was holding its breath and bracing itself for what was yet to come. We hit the empty road and soon left I-5, turning off onto I-580. We found a place to finish the night, protected from the awful winds in the Central Valley by a small mountain range.

The next morning dawned clear and sunny with a light breeze. Since it was a Sunday, traffic was light as we crossed the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge north of San Francisco. The drive up Highway 101 was scenic and very enjoyable. By mid-afternoon we were hooked up at an RV park in Windsor a few miles south of Healdsburg. We chose the area since our friends Kelly and Elaine live nearby.

We last visited the area in 2006, and though this time it was spring, it much looked the same. The only discernible difference was the impressive increase in wine grape vines; while there were thousands last time this time they were literally everywhere. After all we were in the Sonoma Valley, California’s most productive wine grape growing region. It’s no surprise that Kelly and Elaine ended up here, considering the Kelly is a vineyard manager extraordinaire and they are both wine aficionados. We’re glad they’re here because it gives us a good reason to visit the area.

Briefly about the Sonoma Valley. The word sonoma comes from a native language, and while there are various translations, the one most commonly accepted is “valley of the moon.” The area has a long agricultural history, going all the way back to the Spanish. Grapes have been grown in the valley for over 100 years, though disease and the Prohibition put many of the vineyards out of business. What land isn’t growing grapes is either pasture for cows or has houses on it. The area is ideal for wine grape growing because the ocean breeze cools the valley after the long, hot summer days.

And the days are longer up here. Our day has expanded greatly since the sun doesn’t set until after 8 p.m. I don’t know about you but I find it hard to think about dinner while it is still light out. So, we now eat late which gives us more time to play after work — yippee! Speaking of dinner, we always enjoy our evenings with Kelly and Elaine since they usually serve up something fresh out of the garden, and accompany it with a luscious wine.

A visit to this section of California would not be complete without hooking up with other friends in the area. Tim was in San Francisco gearing up for yet another amazing summer of teaching people to sail on the San Francisco Bay. We were looking forward to seeing Tim again and meeting his girlfriend, Tiffany. So on Sunday we drove down for a picnic at Muir Woods National Monument, to be followed by a sunset sail.

First things first, Muir Woods is packed with people and has extremely limited parking. Most of the summer they run a shuttle, but it wasn’t running yet. So we attempted to meet there. We eventually found each other, but if we were to try it again we would meet at the “Park and Ride” lot under Hwy 101 and carpool.

The road to the monument is a narrow two-laner that steeply climbs over a ridge and then drops down into a small valley. Muir Woods’ 560 acres protects one of the few remaining groves of old-growth Coast Redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens). Closely related are the Giant Sequoias (Sequoiadendron giganteum) which grow further inland in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Coast Redwoods claim the title of tallest living thing, yet they are not as massive as the Giant Sequoias. The tallest Coast Redwood was recently measured in Redwood National Park in northern California at a whopping 379.1’ tall. That’s like a 38 story building—amazing!

The trees can live for over 2,000 years, an accomplishment which scientists credit to the tree’s bark. Coast Redwood bark is very thick and extremely rich in tannin which serves to repel both insects and fire, the two major leading causes of tree demise. The tree’s fire, insect, and rot resistant properties are coveted by lumber companies, and by the end of the 1800s the trees were harvested at an astonishing rate. By the turn of the century few of the giants remained and that is when William Kent and his family stepped in.

In 1905 the Kents purchased 611 acres of old-growth Coast Redwoods straddling Redwood Creek near Mount Tamalpais. To ensure the greatest protection for the trees the Kents donated 295 acres to the Federal Government and in 1908 President Theodore Roosevelt signed the monument into being. William Kent named the monument for John Muir, the naturalist and conservationist who inspired him.

Tim, Tiffany, Lance, and I hiked the Bootjack Trail which led us past the boardwalk area (and the crowds), along Redwood Creek. We had a wonderful time catching up on the past year and learning more about Tiffany. During lunch Tim filled us in on the area’s fame as the birthplace of mountain biking. In the early 1970s a small group of guys began riding their modified bikes down the steep sides of Mt. Tamalpais (Mt. Tam to the locals). Amazingly, they didn’t kill themselves, and over time they invented new braking systems and the sport caught on. Ever notice how a lot of those “You could kill yourself” sports were invented by guys? Hmmm…

After lunch we meandered back down, relieved to see that the crowd had thinned. This time we took our time along the boardwalk, admiring the tall, old trees. After parting ways at Muir Woods, we re-met Tim and Tiffany at OCSC¹ in a few short hours for our next adventure: a sunset sail on San Francisco Bay.

It was a perfect afternoon for it, sunny, clear and in the low 70s. Our sailing vessel for the evening was much larger than the boat Tim took us out in the last time we were here, and our sailing crew was larger, too. All told there were about 13 of us, and as soon as we were fitted with our foul weather gear and PFDs we loaded the boat and took off.

With Tim at the helm and several experienced sailors onboard, I settled in for a relaxing time. The wind was strong yet not vicious, the waves were gentle, and the view amazing. The sail was made even better by the presence of great people, wonderful microbrews, and delicious appetizers. A huge shout out to Barbara for taking such excellent care of our tummies!

As I looked over at the Golden Gate Bridge and downtown San Francisco it occurred to me that we were at the end of a road we started following back in southern Arizona, the trail of Juan Bautista de Anza. In 1775 Anza led a colonizing expedition from Tubac, Arizona to what is now San Francisco. Though Anza did not stay to found the presidio or the mission he mapped it and his encampment is commemorated near the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. As the sun made its way toward the horizon, Tim turned the boat around and soon the Bridge and San Francisco receded into the distance. Bye Anza.

As we sailed, Tim explained the reason behind the Bay’s popularity with sailors: the wind. Thermally-generated winds flow through the area, meaning great sailing almost every day of the year. The air in the north end of the Central Valley near Sacramento rises as it heats up which pulls cool air from the ocean inland. Or as sailors say, “San Francisco doesn’t blow, Sacramento sucks.” And I’ll leave you with that charming thought.

Photos: View our photographs from Back in Sonoma Valley, including Muir Woods and the OCSC sunset sail.

Notes: We arrived in Windsor on April 20th; we hiked Muir Woods and sailed on 04/27/08.

¹ OCSC is the sailing school and club where Tim works part of the year. ↩

Our destination in the valley was the small old-world-style town of Solvang, the Danish capital of America. The name means “sunny field” in Danish and the area must have appealed to the Danish immigrants who founded it in 1911. The town’s architecture was designed to reflect the mother country with half-timbered walls, thatched roofs, and wooden storks on top (storks are considered good luck symbols in Denmark).

We arrived early in the morning which was wise since we had our choice of parking spots and were able to explore Solvang Park without dealing with a crowd. Since we were early we goofed off and took our pictures with the statue of Hans Christian Andersen, Denmark’s most famous author. The park was ringed by flower beds filled with bright blooms; it was very tidy and oh, so European.

Soon we spotted Uncle Russell, Aunt Kathy, and Cousin Jennifer ambling down the sidewalk, so we joined them. It was an enjoyable stroll around town. We let our noses lead us from one tasty bakery to another; Uncle Russell knew exactly where all the best treats were (he seems to have a bit of a sweet tooth…). The bakeries specialized in Danish pastries and cookies. We were even introduced to aebleskiver. The name translates as “little apple slices” which was how they were once made but the golf ball-shaped, pancake-like pastries have long since evolved. They are now lightly dusted with powdered sugar and served with raspberry jam.

After checking out all of the bakeries we settled in at Uncle Russell’s favorite for a pastry and hot chocolate break. By the time we had finished noshing the rest of the stores were open and we began our rounds. Prior to our pastry stop most of the stores sported signs proclaiming: “Closed”, “Shut”, or even:

I Have been obliged by ƒheer Weight of Fatigue to quit my Poƒt and repair to My Dwelling-houƒe, until I have fully recovered My Uƒual Compoƒure. All Patrons will find Me of a cheerful Demeanor, and in Readineƒs for Buƒineƒs or Conƒultation upon a return.

I want that sign! (See photo of the sign.)

Shortly before noon we had finished our browsing and Uncle Russell decided we needed to earn our lunch so we headed off to Nojoqui Falls County Park. After a half mile hike we were in view of the falls. The flow wasn’t raging but the creek had a steady stream and it was very scenic. The water drops roughly 140 feet into a small pool and off to the side is a nice seating area for relaxing. Rivaling the falls in beauty was the scenery on the drive to the park, it was hilly and wooded yet every so often a meadow would come into view—gorgeous.

Decidedly hungry by now Uncle Russell, Aunt Kathy, and Cousin Jennifer led us to Pea Soup Andersen’s in Buellton. As you might have guessed they feature pea soup. The restaurant began in 1924 using favorite family recipes including one for a hearty pea soup. The restaurant survived the highway junction realignment with the help of two cartoon characters, Hap-Pea and Pea-Wee. Their billboard facing Highway 101 features Hap-Pea: a large, rotund, sledgehammer-wielding chef, and Pea-Wee: his dimunitive, worried, wedge-holding co-chef. It is Pea-Wee’s great misfortune to help Hap-Pea split each individual pea. Considering that the restaurant goes through over 50 tons of peas a year that’s a lot of splittin’!

At the crossroads of Highway 101 and Highway 246 Buellton is considered the Gateway to the Santa Ynez Valley. To the east lies Solvang, and to the west is the town of Lompoc, which Uncle Russell, Aunt Kathy, and Cousin Jennifer call home. The name Lompoc is derived from a corruption of a Chumash phrase meaning “little lake.” The small town has three main claims to fame: the Mission La Purísima Concepción, fields of flowers, and nearby Vandenberg Air Force Base.

Founded in 1787 the mission was originally established in what is now downtown but in 1812, which the Spanish dubbed El Año de los Temblores (year of the earthquakes) the mission was destroyed. It was relocated nearby but that location also failed to last. In the 1930s the mission was excavated and rebuilt by the Civilian Conservation Corps. Today the grounds are open to the public as a state park which encompasses just under 2,000 acres, a mere fraction of the earlier mission size of over 300,000 acres.

Though dwindling in size the flower fields are another long-standing Lompoc tradition. The plants aren’t destined for the cut-flower market but are grown for their seeds, which are harvested and sold in little paper packets. We only spied one large field with rows of bright colors. Although I snapped a photo, I didn’t have time to identify the flowers—but we know that they grow Sweet Peas, Larkspurs, Bells of Ireland, and Delphiniums, among others.

And lastly, VandyLand. The huge base sprawls across 98,000 acres on the coast. You couldn’t ask for a better location and the Air Force prizes the spot since it is a prime West Coast location for their space programs. At one time designed to support space shuttle missions, the base now focuses on ICBM test launches and the deployment of reconnaissance satellites. Though there were once high hopes for the base’s ability to stimulate the local economy, now residents just resent the base for claiming so much of the coastline.

After lunch we returned to Solvang to drop off our relatives at their car. Along the way we passed by the Hitching Post II, the sister restaurant to the one in Casmalia where we dined the night before. Though not the original location this one has upstaged the Casmalia one by playing a prominent role in the 2003 movie, Sideways. The mid-life crisis wine movie was set in and filmed in the Santa Ynez Valley which put the formerly unheard of American Viticultural Area on many oenologist’s maps. Unfortunately we didn’t have time for another dose of Santa Maria Style Barbecue. Sigh.

Last couple things before we leave the Central Coast Region. Ronald Reagan used to own Rancho del Cielo, a large ranch in the area. During his presidency it was dubbed the “Western White House” where he hosted not only Queen Elizabeth II but Mikhail Gorbachev. Totally random trivia, but did you know he was the only U.S. President to have been divorced? He was married to actress Jane Wyman before marrying Nancy. Interesting.

And speaking of famous people, here’s an infamous one for you, Michael Jackson. The pop star’s Neverland Ranch in located is the valley. Earlier this year it looked like he was going to lose the ranch to foreclosure but the latest word is that arrangements have been made and he will be able to keep it. That’s a whole ‘nother story that we aren’t going to get into here, besides its time for us to transition to northern California.

Photos: View our photographs from Santa Ynez Valley.

Notes: We visited the Santa Ynez Valley on 04/19/08.

We discovered this sign inside the Warren Tavern in Charlestown near Boston. After all our years of working with the public Lance and I found it to be oh so true. I still wonder how old that sign was; some things just never change.

Anyway, by early afternoon on Sunday we pulled into our new home for the next week, a small RV park on the north side of Santa Maria. Looks can be deceiving; what appeared to be a small, blue collar community tucked in amongst acres and acres of agricultural fields was actually the largest town in Santa Barbara County.

The Santa Maria Valley bills itself as California’s Sweet Spot since it is one of the few valleys along the coast which run east-west. This transverse topography allows cool ocean breezes to moderate the heat of summer and extend the growing season. As a result the rolling hills to the east are covered with thousands (millions?) of wine grapevines while the ones to the west have fat cows grazing on them, and the valley floor nurtures broccoli, artichokes, and strawberries.

After a bit of exploration we found a farmer’s market where we could buy luscious strawberries and vegetables and a nearby city park to play in. Preisker Park held three treasures for us, the first was a nice disc golf course (Lance hadn’t played in months), the second was a wide variety of birds (many of them were nesting), and the third was huge barbecue pits. The massive structures were nothing like the tiny charcoal grills we’ve seen at other public parks. These monsters took barbecuing to a whole new level. In fact, that was our first introduction to the famous (and copyrighted) Santa Maria Style Barbecue.

Our first face to face meeting with the Barbecue came when we met up with Lance’s Uncle Russell and Aunt Kathy. They drove us out to a tiny, end-of-the-road town called Casmalia—where the Hitching Post stood—and treated us to a local tradition. The building began life as the Casmalia Hotel but with a change of ownership came a new name and a focus on food. The Hitching Post started serving steak in 1944 and though the menu has expanded over the years it still serves mostly barbecue. And not just any barbecue, this is Santa Maria Style Barbecue.

Soon after arriving we were shown to our table in the rustic, wooden dining room. On the table was a small plate of pickles, peppers, olives, fresh green onions, celery and carrots. Dinner was preceded by a small shrimp cocktail and green salad. The pièce de resistance, the perfectly grilled steak was served with a baked potato, fresh salsa, and toasted French bread. The meal ended with a scoop of ice cream. It was simple and delicious but Santa Maria Style Barbecue is not without controversy.

Purists will insist that it is not barbecuing since the steak is not slathered in barbecue sauce nor is sauce served with it. Instead, local tradition, which dates back to the early 1800s, dictates that the steak is only rubbed with a mixture of salt, pepper, and garlic salt before grilling. Of course everyone in town has their own secret (and original) steak rub. Then there is the whole debate over which cut of beef to use. It seems that restaurants use sirloin while at home, families use tri-tip, and, of course, they both claim to be authentic. About the only thing everyone agrees on is the firewood. Though increasingly hard to find, red oak is the traditional wood that the meat is cooked over.

The only thing the Hitching Post didn’t serve that is purportedly a standard part of Santa Maria Style Barbecue was pinquito beans. Prepared ranch style the small, pinkish beans have a long history in the area though no one is entirely sure where they originally came from. We liked the Santa Maria Style Barbecue so much that we gave it another try, this time at the Far Western Tavern in nearby Guadalupe. The menu was very similar to the one at the Hitching Post but this meal included the pinquito beans. They were delicious—small, firm and tasty. Almost like a small pinto bean but less mealy.

We did more than just eat while we were in the area, honest. We also made it out to the ocean. We were intrigued by the Rancho Guadalupe Dunes Preserve near the small town of Guadalupe. The preserve protects a section of the Guadalupe Nipomo Dunes, which stretch for 18 miles along the coast. The dunes are the highest on the entire west coast, reaching heights of 500 feet. The dunes are also one of a few chosen nesting sites for threatened Western Snowy Plovers and endangered California Least Terns. Through the efforts of the Nature Conservancy with city, state, and other partners, close to 600 acres of this fragile environment have been protected and restored.

We started at the Oso Flaco Lake Natural Area. The small fresh water lake was named in 1769 when Gaspar de Portola and his men were in the area. Some of the men who had come ashore to hunt shot a skinny bear nearby. So the lake took on the Spanish name for skinny bear, oso flaco. We did not see any Spaniards, bears or mountain lions, though there were recent mountain lion sightings in the area.

Our sightings consisted of a striking Western Tiger Swallowtail, two skinny lizards (muy flacos), a shy rabbit and tons of birds. Most of the birds were swiftly swooping swallows but we also scored a Mallard family, an Eared Grebe, Clark’s Grebe, Downy Woodpecker, Western Scrub Jay, California Thrasher, Sanderlings, Whimbrels, Willets, Peregrine Falcon, Red-tailed Hawk, and yes, even a Western Snowy Plover.

It was an exceptional day of birding even though it was quite windy. The boardwalk crosses over the lake, through the dunes, and out to the water’s edge. Along the way we were treated to the blooms of the Coast Indian Paintbrush, Dune Lupine, and Beach Primrose. Less inviting were the large Stinging Nettles and Poison Hemlock. Overall, the area was quite scenic which is probably why Hollywood likes it out there.

Portions of several movies have been filmed in the dunes, including most recently the Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. The scene where Capt. Jack Sparrow is seen pulling his boat, oh, I mean ship, through sand dunes was shot here. The area’s film history extends all the way back to Cecil B. DeMille’s 1923 silent film The Ten Commandments. For the film DeMille had an elaborate, full-size set constructed in the dunes that included a huge temple and multiple gigantic statues. At the end of filming DeMille ordered the set destroyed and buried in the dunes. In 1983 pieces of the Lost City were discovered poking out of the sand. There is a poorly funded group that is trying to excavate pieces from the only surviving movie set from the Golden Age of Hollywood before it is destroyed by erosion.

The dunes mean different things to different people, some go there for recreation, others mine the sand, some drive their off-road vehicles through the sand, and still others go there to get naked. A brisk two mile walk south of the point where the boardwalk meets the beach is an officially, unofficial nudist beach. And no, we didn’t walk down there to find out. Besides, it was much too windy and chilly for that kind of thing.

For our last day of exploration in the Santa Maria area we headed a bit south and further inland, but more about that next time…

Photos: View our photographs from Santa Maria, California.

Notes: We stayed in Santa Maria, California from 04/13/08 to 04/19/08.

Recipe: Make your own Santa Maria Style Beans (pinquitos).

I was already a huge fan of Stone (most especially their potent IPA) having worked at a place in Tucson many years ago that had it on tap. I was a bit less enthusiastic about the tour part because let’s face it most beer is made in roughly the same way and once you’ve seen one brewery you’ve pretty much seen them all. Well, Stone proved me wrong. They must be doing really well because their brewery is huge. The beer crafting part was clean and full of monstrous shiny vats while the rest of the property was divided between an indoor and outdoor eating and drinking establishment.

The outdoor area was really a garden. We grabbed a beer from the bar, wandered out to the garden, found a comfortable bench overlooking the pond, and relaxed. The tour was just the right length and rather fun. We learned about the current hops shortage—which is of great concern for all of us who like yummy beer. Hop growers of the world, please plant more hops! After the tour came the best part, the free tasting. I tried a sip of all the beers from Lance’s glass but kept refilling mine with the IPA. Hey, when you know what you like why mess with it? And thus ended a perfect day.

A couple days later Karen, Rich, Lance and I awoke at the crack of stupid, drove to the trolley station, and rode the trolley (really a light rail) to the shipyards. General Dynamics NASSCO (a huge shipbuilding company, the largest on the West Coast) was launching the USNS Amelia Earhart, a dry cargo ship. Unfortunately, our morning hustle was for naught, launch time wasn’t 9 am as we’d been told, but 9 pm. We later learned that since the ship is so large the company had to wait for San Diego’s highest tide, which would occur around 9 pm that night. It would have been neat to witness the massive 689’ ship slipping into the water—plus Amelia Earhart’s niece was scheduled to christen the ship—but it was not to be. We were able to glimpse the ship still in her drydock.

We did not lose heart, intrepid explorers that we are, and we headed to Balboa Park instead. The park was originally set aside for recreation by the Mexican government in 1835. The area remained as mostly open space until preparations began for the 1915 Panama-California Exposition. Part of the park was transformed into a cultural complex with grand buildings in the Spanish Colonial style lining El Prado, a long boulevard. Many of the buildings were designed to be temporary but the citizens liked them so much that some are still standing while others are exact replicas built for permanence. The park still has some open space with hiking trails while encompassing a huge golf course and the world famous San Diego Zoo.

We spent our day wandering El Prado, admiring the gardens, and enjoying the wonderful weather. The Botanical Building was a treat, we were dwarfed by the huge ferns and we were engulfed in the heady scent of the thousands of spring blooms. After lunch at a Japanese tea house we grabbed our seats at the Spreckels Outdoor Organ Pavilion for the afternoon pipe organ performance. Billed as the world’s largest outdoor pipe organ, it has 4,518 pipes ranging from the size of a pencil to over 32’ long. The pipe organ was donated to celebrate the Exposition’s second year by San Diego’s richest man, John Spreckels and his brother Adolph. John’s father had made his fortune in the sugar business by running a monopoly in both Hawaii and California; John made his money by shipping the white crystals.

John had settled in San Francisco but after the Great Earthquake of 1906 he moved his family to San Diego. The city greatly benefited from John’s move as he was generous with his money. He not only donated the pipe organ but he helped fund the Panama-California Exposition, built the Spreckels Theater, and gave generously to the struggling, young San Diego Zoo. The city was fortunate to have John and his money.

So, I’m not a big fan of the pipe organ. It was loud and impressive but all I could really think of were old movies where the menacing action was accompanied by the crescendo of the organ. (Lance quite enjoyed it, however.)

Our last weekend in the area found us driving the winding road from Ramona to Julian with Rich and Karen. Last fall huge fires roared through the area; thankfully Julian was spared but many of the outlying homes in Ramona were destroyed. The blackened trees were an eerie backdrop for the bright fields of wildflowers. Julian has become famous for its apples and apple pies. The small, old gold mining town now mines the pockets of tourists (the work is less dangerous though still backbreaking). The road was lined with blooming apple trees, no leaves yet, just blossoms. The air was cooler up there in the mountains and we chased away the chills with a slice of pie and coffee. Perfect.

Oh, speaking of mining, Rich and I finished sorting out treasures from our tourmaline mining expedition. The San Diego area is well known for gorgeous watermelon tourmalines and earlier in our stay we had purchased some ore. It promised to be loaded with crystals; after all a sizable one fell out of Rich’s bag the first day. Well, after hours of washing, sorting and resorting through our bags, we found basically nothing: nada, zip, zilch, zero. I don’t think I’m that great of a miner. Sigh. But we had fun. Lance and Karen were not as enthusiastic; they just rolled their eyes at us and found other things to do.

Our last day was a warm, sunny one spent near the water’s edge with our good friend Danny. We started at La Jolla Cove. The tide was out so we explored some of the tidepools. We watched teeny, tiny crabs skittle across the rocks, sea urchins open and close, garibaldis (the California state fish) flit by, dolphins mosey along, and harbor seals frolic with their babies in the shallows. The harbor seal population at La Jolla has grown over the years and has taken over a man-made beach. The seals and the beach are at the center of a huge controversy between the city, state, local residents and environmentalists. I won’t bore you with the details but Danny and I disagreed on the topic. That’s the thing about great friends, you can agree to disagree.

The ocean breeze made us hungry so we headed downtown to Pokez, a favorite restaurant that Danny had introduced us to a couple years ago. It’s not exactly the kind of place you’d take your parents since the walls are covered in graffiti and the staff are covered in tattoos but the food is fresh, tasty and inexpensive. After lunch it was back out to the coast. It was a great way to say goodbye to San Diego.

Photos: View our photographs from San Diego Finale.

Notes: We stayed in San Diego from 03/23/08 to 04/12/08.

Congratulations to Alison for the most specific guess—she even nailed the exact number of ducklings in the photograph!

This family of Black-bellied Whistling Ducks mystified us because we came across them at Cooper Lake State Park, southeast of Dallas, Texas in October. Here are some neat tidbits about them: both sexes look alike and they pair up for many years, with both mates sharing in the raising of the young (a behavior more consistent with geese and swans). Considered a “Neotropic” species that only enters the southern U.S., the ducks have been successfully expanding their range in recent years.

Note how there were actually 12 ducklings in all, as seen in the last photo of the whole family together. (Click photos for larger versions.)

Original

Revealed

The whole family

But let’s start at the beginning. The Wild Animal Park is managed jointly with the San Diego Zoo by the non-profit Zoological Society of San Diego. The Society was started in September 1916 by Dr. Harry Wegeforth who wanted to find a way to permanently care for the exotic animals brought to the city for the 1915-1916 Panama-California International Exposition. Dr. Harry loved animals and it was his vision and dedication that laid the foundation for the world-renowned facilities that San Diego is so proud of today.

The original Zoo had very little in common with its modern day namesake. The motley collection of animals were housed in small cages and fed an assortment of horse meat, white bread, carrots or hay. One of the first animal donations to the Zoo became the catalyst that led to the Zoo’s remarkable open air enclosures. Caesar, a Kodiak bear, was donated by the Captain of the U.S. collier Nanshan. The crew had picked her up as a cub and she was the shipboard pet until she grew too large and unruly. No one at the Zoo knew how to transport her from the ship so they put a collar on her and put her in the front seat of a car. Caesar stopped traffic (both literally and figuratively), and soon the whole town was talking about the bear and the fledgling Zoo.

It turned out that getting Caesar to the Zoo was the easy part. Caesar didn’t like to be told where to stay and she seemed to take great pleasure in destroying her various cages by bending steel, tearing down walls and digging out. Caesar taught Zoo personnel some very important lessons in enclosure building. It appears that Caesar deserves credit for the Zoo’s (and later the Wild Animal Park’s) trademark large, natural exhibits. Caesar’s destruction work also brought in the first substantial monetary donation from the public, a form of income that still makes up a large part of the Zoo’s budget.

After a few financially rough years the Zoo was finally allotted 150 acres in Balboa Park and plans began in earnest. As the Zoo grew and flourished it soon became clear that a larger space was needed to fulfill the Zoo’s breeding and research goals. The idea of establishing a research facility morphed into an open enclosure area where species lived in recreated habitats. Opening day for the San Diego Wild Animal Park was in May of 1972 and the park has continued to improve since then. It is now home to the world’s largest veterinary hospital and a world famous research facility.

The Park consists of 1,800 acres—half of which was set aside as natural habitat. With the explosive growth of southern California it should come as no surprise that San Diego County has the most threatened and endangered species in all of the United States. The Conservation and Research for Endangered Species (CRES) center operates out of the Park to fulfill the Zoological Society’s mission of species preservation. CRES is most famous for its work breeding and rearing the nearly extinct California Condor and Giant Panda and the severely threatened African Elephant. They are also active in local efforts to understand and protect native populations in southern California.

Everyone who visit supports their important work which made us feel good as we wandered through the Park. Our intrepid exploring partners for the day were Brendan, who lives in nearby Oceanside, and Karen and Rich, who are workkamping in the Lakeside area. We chose to visit on a Friday in the hopes of avoiding the weekend crowds and our plan worked out quite well. It was a perfect day for our visit to the sprawling complex. The spring weather was warm but not hot and many of the Park’s animals were in various stages of dealing with their young. Some of the birds were still sitting on nests while others were actively involved in the never-ending quest to feed their voracious offspring. There were even baby lions, elephants and giraffes, oh my!

I can’t begin to tell you about all the amazing animals we saw that day and I certainly can’t tell you about the entire Park since we didn’t see it all. But I will tell you about our favorite encounters. Our first inkling that it would be a special day came as we waited for our Journey Into Africa tour, as several African Lion (Panthera leo) cubs came tumbling over the hill in their nearby enclosure. What ensued was ten minutes of frolicking and chasing—all under the watchful eyes of their mothers, Mina and Oshana. The two litters, for a total of seven cubs, were born in November just a few days apart. The cubs were all sired by the massive and majestic, Izu. Here’s a fun fact for you, lions are second in size to the tiger and here I always thought lions were the largest cats! Learn something new every day…

After lunch we swung back by the Lion Camp and were rewarded with the idyllic scene of Izu, one of the mothers and one of the cubs sleeping on top of an old Land Rover. Apparently the top of the car had been Izu’s place of refuge when the rowdy babies were small. Unfortunately for Izu the cubs have grown so much that they can now reach the top. Izu tolerates the cubs but when he’s had enough he curls his upper lip back and shows his fangs. The cubs have learned to leave their dad alone after that.

Tearing ourselves away from the lions we headed for the Elephant Viewing Patio. There we watched as the newest members of the African Elephant (Loxodonta africana) family played and rolled in the grass. The Park’s herd came over from Swaziland in 2003 since the country had more elephants than it could handle. Four babies have been born to the herd with the most recent births occurring this past September and November. We were amused by the youngsters’ pranks and their floppy trunks. Trunk control comes as they age so in the early months their trunk mostly swings around like a limp noodle.

Our wanderings took us past the Greater and Lesser Flamingo (Phoenicopterus roseus and Phoenicopterus minor) pond. Some of the tall pink birds were still sitting on their mud nests while others were tending their babies that looked like small gray puff balls. Sharing the pond were several birds common in California including the ever-present American Coot (Fulica americana). The most exciting thing about the Coots’ presence was finally seeing baby Coots. They look like somebody spilled orange and red paint on a black sock. They are quite honestly some of the ugliest babies I have ever seen. They were so ugly they were cute, if you know what I mean.

Speaking of odd looking birds we spent quite a bit of time watching a pair of Northern Ground-hornbills (Bucorvus abyssinicus). The males are built like a cross between a Turkey Vulture and a Turkey but with a huge black bill and a blue-and-red sack on its neck. The large bump on their bill, the casque, gives them their common name but I don’t think anyone really knows what purpose it serves. The birds didn’t seem too concerned about the questions they were raising in my head.

In fact that was probably my one disappointment during our visit, I wanted more information about the animals, about the plants, about the park and so on! But then again, I always want more information, it is just part of my nature. A bit footsore but still full of energy we left the park just before closing time and headed off in search of refreshments. More about that later…

Photos: View our photographs from San Diego Wild Animal Park.

Notes: We visited the San Diego Wild Animal Park on 04/04/08.

The challenge is to not only identify the birds in question but to guess how many babies are in the picture. Why are baby ducks so hard to see anyway?

Please be as specific as possible. Good luck!

(Click photo for larger version.)

Instructions: When you think you have figured it out, enter your guess in the comment field below. Be sure to check back next week to see if you were right.

The photo has not been doctored; it is the glorious combination of two things, my lack of ability as a photographer and the subjects’ stubborn refusal to be photographed. Happy guessing!

Update: Alison nailed the number of ducklings on the head. See the revealed photos and answer.

Of course we are nowhere near that bracket with our eight year old, middle of the road RV but we have some of the same motivations. We want to explore this amazing country and this country is best seen by road. We want to stay awhile and learn about the places we visit, which can be done fairly economically in an RV depending on how you go about it. We want to spend time with loved ones, by dropping by in our own house we are less of an imposition and everyone is more relaxed and has more fun. After all, its always better to sleep in your own bed.

As for soaring gas prices, our RV should average just under ten miles a gallon which is abysmal, I agree. However, we only travel about 200 miles a week, sometimes far less. In fact, the main reason I can’t accurately tell you our gas mileage is because we’ve only filled the tank once since we bought it in November. As you might be able to tell we haven’t driven very far since then.

We are on the move now though, after waiting out the winter in sunny Tucson we are slowly meandering north through California and beyond. Yes, filling our 75 gallon gas tank will be expensive but as Michael A. Schneider, the chief executive of the R.V. trade magazine publisher Affinity Group, said in a recent interview “once somebody gets hooked on the lifestyle, sure, it’s not pleasant when gasoline goes up, but they adjust, because they’re passionate about the lifestyle.”

It’s safe to say that we are hooked on the lifestyle. Anyone interested? We thought you’d enjoy reading an article that was recently published in the USA Today that focuses on the higher end models.

Sales of RVs, which run the gamut from humble folding camping trailers to luxury motor homes, peaked at 400,000 in 2006. The industry attributes the subsequent drop in sales to 354,000 last year to the overall economic slump rather than rising fuel costs. But with the first wave of 79 million baby boomers poised for retirement, industry experts are betting that boom times are on the horizon.

Nothing is too fancy for these coaches (as the really expensive RVs are called). Italian marble floors? Huge flat-screen high-definition TVs with surround sound? Doors controlled by electronic palm readers? Two bathrooms? Not a problem, if you’ve got the money, they’ll build it for you. Lance notes that in the European market, some RVs are built with an area in the back (like a mini-garage) that can hold a Smart Car, as seen on the cover of the March 2008 Motorhome magazine.

Meanwhile, we’ll continue to travel around the country in our little home-on-wheels.

Unfortunately, we weren’t as familiar with our RV and towing so there were some nagging concerns as we motored along. Did we hook-up the car correctly? Did I check the supplemental braking system? What kind of gas mileage do we get? How many gallons does our gas tank hold? Did we forget anything? As the miles rolled by we settled into a good rhythm and soon we were singing the chorus of “California, Here I Come” (the only part of the song that I know).

I don’t know when I first learned that song but I’ve sung it on every California bound trip since I was a little girl. Summer is usually when the beach beckons us “Zonies” and San Diego isn’t really all that far away. There’s a saying that if you want to see your Tucson friends in the summer, go to San Diego. This year Lance and I are getting a head start on all those summer visitors. And it isn’t just the beach that is calling us; we have several good friends in the area.

Danny, an old friend from Tucson lives in San Diego, Brendan lives in Oceanside (O-side, to the locals) and fellow RVers Karen and Rich are workcamping¹ at a county park in the area. Last time we were in San Diego we stayed less than a week so this time we’re planning on sticking around for awhile. Especially since there is so much to see and do.

When the Spanish founded San Diego in 1769 it became not only the first permanent European settlement in California but also on the West Coast. Of course the California coast had been claimed for Spain long before that. In 1542 Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo sailed by and mapped the coastline. In 1602 the area was named after St. Didacus de Alcala. San Diego, as he is known in Spanish, was awarded sainthood for his pious lifestyle, miraculous healings, and sweet smell. Apparently, San Diego’s demise was caused by a festering infection that—instead of reeking—gave off a pleasant odor. Creepy.

San Diego de Alcala was established with two main parts, the fort where the small garrison of soldiers lived and a mission of the same name. The presidio was founded by the military leader Gaspar de Portola while the mission was led by Franciscan Father Junípero Serra. Portola soon left the area but Serra remained in California and was eventually responsible for establishing a chain of 21 missions through the new territory. The early years of the mission were hard ones as the native people, the Kumeyaays, were not pleased with the arrival of the Spanish.

Somehow the small port town of San Diego survived the many attacks from the locals, transition to Mexican Independence, becoming part of the United States, multiple fires, and earthquakes to become the second largest city in California and the eighth largest in the entire country (as of the latest census). These days San Diego’s economy is reliant on defense, manufacturing, and tourism. That the defense industry is San Diego’s main money maker should come as no surprise when you consider that the city is the only major submarine and ship-building yard on the West Coast. The area supports sixteen military facilities representing three branches of the U.S. military: the Navy, the Coast Guard and the Marine Corps.

Our homebase for a couple weeks is Lake Jennings Regional Park in the appropriately named town of Lakeside—roughly 20 miles inland from the coast. It is just off I-8, although thankfully we can’t hear or see the busy road from our campsite. Lake Jennings is a drinking water reservoir for the San Diego area that was created in 1964 by damming Quail Canyon. The campground is in the rolling hills of the Santa Rosa Mountains on a bluff overlooking the three billion gallon lake. They claim it is excellent fishing down there, though the only ones we saw catching fish were osprey. They are so amazing to watch!

The bio-zone here is called chaparral, a corruption of a Spanish word meaning dwarf oak. Fittingly, the vegetation consists of small, bushy trees, grasses, and other herby plants. We are familiar with some of the plants as they are also present in the Sonoran Desert, but the scarcity of cacti is notable. We are here at a special time of year since it is spring; the grasses are green and the hillsides covered with large swaths of yellow flowers. Soon the grasses will turn brown, the flowers will wither, and all the animals will adopt a crepuscular lifestyle, avoiding the intense heat of the day.

Even though it is too cool for sunbathing or playing in the waves we are enjoying our time here in San Diego. Walking along the harbor, seafood for lunch, sushi for dinner, catching up with old friends, searching for tourmaline, hiking, and birdwatching—and that’s just the beginning of our adventures here. We’re looking forward to more fun times in California’s first city.

Photos: View our photographs from San Diego County.

Notes: We stayed at Lake Jennings in San Diego County from 03/23/08 to 04/04/08.

¹ Workcamping: volunteering a certain number of hours a week at a park or other location in exchange for a free hook-up. ↩