Month: September 2012

Honora and I arrived at Treebones, yesterday afternoon. It is in the southern end of Big Sur perched on a remote hillside across from the Pacific Ocean and Highway 1. Thankfully, it was Honora’s turn to drive because if it had been my turn, I would have had to pull over and let her drive anyway.

We arrived yesterday as the fog was settling in. We wouldn’t have wanted to arrive at night as the road to Treebones is narrow, winding, and without illumination. Treebones is a fascinating place. There are 16 yurts and several campsites plus the lodge and a few other structures. We commandeered the largest yurt because we wanted separate beds. We were surprised to find a ping pong table inside. We didn’t play. They call it “glamping.” Glamorous camping. And that, it is. Our yurt is large and nicely furnished with hardwood floors. We have a deck with a view. We have a sink in our room but the toilets and showers are in a communal bathroom which is actually very nice.

One of the most fascinating things to us is that the pine trees become miniature rain forests when the fog settles in. All night, I heard what sounded like raindrops on the yurt’s canvas and when we got up in the night to trek to the bathroom, the wooden walkway was wet under the pine next to our yurt and we felt raindrops on our heads. It was the Monterey pines dripping on us.

There is an organic garden here with lettuces, artichokes, tomatoes, other vegetables and herbs. Much of our dinner last night was made with the greens from the garden and I had an artichoke grown here. they seem to live off the grid here. No cell phone service—in fact very little reliable cell phone service anywhere in Big Sur—but we have satellite wi-fi if in the main lodge.

A view of a couple of the yurts:

Inside our yurt:

The view from our yurt, before the fog rolled in and after and as it rolled in:

Today, fifty-three years after I left his seventh grade English class, I had the privilege of reconnecting with Chuck Dowdle, the most influential teacher I had in my 17 years of formal education provided by the State of California—K through 12 plus 4 at UCD. I recognized him immediately. I’ve changed but he hasn’t. Honora and I met Chuck and his lovely wife Carmelle at Robin’s in Cambria for a delicious bowl of Salmon Bisque followed by coffee and strawberry-rhubarb pie at their home. We talked for hours and reminisced about the 1958-59 school year, the incredibly unique teaching approach he took, and the students, all of whom he remembered. He even noted that in the seventh grade I was shy and now I don’t shut up. We were thrilled when Chuck presented us with signed copies of his books about his life and teaching kids to read and write.

The first two shots are of Chuck and me at Robin’s and Chuck and Carmelle under an arbor in their garden. The last shot is one I took in Cambria. I was taken by the similarity of the sign to my name. Can you find my name hidden in the sign?

Today Honora and I drove through Cambria where we stopped and had coffee and breakfast before continuing on to Hearst Castle and the Cottages and Kitchens tour there. We spent almost an hour touring the fascinating wine cellar, the incredibly ornate guest cottages, and the well appointed kitchen. The tours last about 45 minutes but ours ran late because our tour guide kept having to round up the stragglers: Honora and I were always the stragglers. We were even admonished by one of the docents to “keep up with your group.” But we continued to lag behind the others, absorbing the beauty and of course, taking photographs. After the guided tour, we were left to wander the grounds on our own.

When we arrived, Highway 1 was shrouded in fog but as we climbed into the hills, the clouds of fog dissipated. This was a view of the hillside from the Hearst Castle visitors center and one of the castle with a viewing scope in the foreground.

The wine cellar fascinated me because it seemed as if the most prevalent type of wine there was Italian Swiss Colony, in its familiar raffia covered bottle. I guess William Randolph Hearst and the “Little Old Winemaker” from Italian Swiss were good friends. It’s hard to the think of Hearst as a man of simple tastes but I guess in some respects he might have been. But, even I have had Italian Swiss Colony wine; and I used a few of those bottles as candle holders back in the day. Of course there were lots of other wine bottles in the cellar which I’m sure once contained the finest wines available. The tour guide told us that the upright bottles were empty and the bottles on their sides still continued wine, most of which has probably turned to vinegar.

The ceilings were intricate and different in each room. The gold leaf sparkled.

And of course it wouldn’t be a tour of someplace without the requesite reflection photo:

The grounds were captivating. The water lily was in a pool in front of the castle entrance. One of the docents noticed my “art deco bob” as he called it and sent me in search of the marble “Girl with a Parrot” sculpture; I told him it was perfect because I not only have an art deco bob, I have a parrot. So I’d like to consider this a portrait of me . . . a much younger — er, a much firmer — me.

When I saw the bronze of the discus thrower, I was reminded that we, as the 2012 version of Thelma and Louise, are still in search of the new Brad Pitt. This is an ancient guy but he might just have to do — for now anyway.

And the two magnificent pools: the indoor Roman pool with its tiles of real gold and mysterious lighting and the mesmerizing Neptune pool with is azure water and hypnotic grids.

We stopped in Cambria again on the way back to Morro Bay. The Moonstone Beach Bar and Grill had bar type seating facing Highway 1 and Moonstone Beach across the road. What a lovely view to enjoy lunch by.

Our journey has reached its southernmost point so today, we headed north to Morro Bay on Highway 154. It was my turn to drive but as we wound our way up the Chumash Highway with its hairpin turns, my heart started pounding and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and I began to hyperventilate. Gulp! Big gulp! I have always been uncomfortable driving up hill, especially when the road is winding and there are cliffs involved but I have never had this feeling of terror building so I pulled over and Honora took over the driving. This is the peak where I pulled over and the road actually started downhill after this so I probably could have driven, but I think Honora felt more comfortable being behind the wheel herself, so she kept driving to Morro Bay.

We arrived in Morro Bay, a quaint fishing village. The brown pelicans hung around the fishing boats and we encountered a small colony of them drying themselves in the late afternoon sun. As we watched the pelicans sunning, we noticed one of the brown pelicans trying to swallow a rockfish that had been filleted by a fisherman and tossed into the water so it had its huge head, bones down the middle and a tail. Another big gulp! It appeared to be a little unwieldy for the poor pelican as he tried to gulp it down. We watched him for more than an hour; sadly, he lost the fish to another pelican.

After watching this spectacle we felt we needed our own big gulp. We discovered a charming little wine bar called Stax, went in and we shared a light dinner consisting of a cheese plate and portobello crostini with pesto and Parmegiano Reggiano as well as a big gulp, actually a couple of big gulps, of a San Luis Obispo Pinot Noir. A delightful way to end the day. As we walked back to our motel, I took a couple of shots of the wharf; one of Morro Rock and the other of the Morro Bay power plant that dominates one end of the wharf.

We drove to Oxnard this morning, 45 minutes south of Santa Barbara to catch our Channel Islands sightseeing tour boat, the Vanguard, to Anacapa Island to view the wildlife. It took almost an hour to get to Anacapa, one of five of the islands in the Channel Islands National Park. Anacapa is composed of a series of three islets; one with a lighthouse built by the Coast Guard and which is the only islet of the three that allows visitors. Our boat took a couple of kayaking groups and several hikers but you’d never find me climbing up to the top of those rugged cliffs nor climbing down and getting into a kayak. What was I possibly thinking when I actually considered kayaking with the orcas in the San Juan Islands in Washington?

Anacapa is rugged and beautiful, mostly barren, especially at this time of year. There are lots of caves and arches. The weather couldn’t have been more beautiful. We did experience some sea spray because Honora and I sat on the port side of the boat with most of the spray but the crew of the Vanguard were very accommodating and presented me with a Ziploc bag to protect my camera from the elements. We discovered that some of the wildlife on Anacapa was of the human variety. I looked up and saw a person with a camera perched precariously atop the cliff. Oy Vey! Then a couple of kayakers paddled by. We also saw sea lions and brown pelicans, Brandt cormorants and the cliffs of Anacapa sported lots of guano. It was a perfect day for the three hour trip. We returned to port covered with salt spray and with windburn on our faces but it was a fascinating excursion…stunning landscapes and interesting “wildlife.”

Early this morning we checked into our wonderful new hotel, then drove to the Santa Barbara Club where we met our old high school friend Susan and boarded a bus for a visit to Kick On Ranch, the home of the Santa Ynez Valley Hounds. After tasting reislings and pinot noirs from local vintners made from Kick On Ranch grapes, we were treated to a show of the hounds. About 70 English and French hounds approached us accompanied by the Huntsman and the Kennel Huntsman on horseback and the Whipper-In, on foot. The dogs were kept in line and to the business at hand by the huntsmen and the whipper-in, but when they were released to frolic, all hell broke loose.

Here we are reveling in our new digs!

These are pinot noir grapes; they’re tiny, very sweet (by comparison, table grapes are much less sweet than these wine grapes) and covered with netting to keep the birds from destroying the crop.

Here come the hounds with the huntsmen and whippers-in.

The whipper-in and the hounds, all tails pointing up.

Finally, the hounds are released to play and mob the visitors!

The day started and ended great; in between were a few bumps in the road to Santa Barbara. We slept late at the Wayside Inn and finally got on the road about 11 AM because at 10:45 I discovered that for some reason I had in my mind the trip to Santa Barbara from Carmel was about 2 hours…not the 5 hours Google maps suggested when I finally got around to double checking our route. And that was if we went Highway 101, not Highway 1, our preferred route. So, an afternoon sightseeing trip in Santa Barbara, courtesy of our old high school friend, Susan, who we’re going to finally meet up with tomorrow, was out of the question.

Honora drove today. There were quite a few road delays, starting with the 15 minute delay leaving Carmel when we were stuck behind a huge delivery truck that was stuck under a tree branch in a narrow road with no way around. Highway 1 road improvements made for a couple of additional delays, one about 30 minutes when we were stopped atop a bridge so I had lots of opportunities to take photos of stunning views, as did just about everyone else stuck on this glorious sunny day. In addition to the road delays, I made Honora pull over frequently so I could indulge my inner photographer. During most stops, either she or I were asked to take photos of other tourists but I didn’t want a stranger handling my D800 so I took the one of us myself using my tripod. Then we spent quite a long time behind a slow driver with passive aggressive tendencies who seemed to be enjoying leading a pack of frustrated and irritated drivers through the winding, hilly road with few passing opportunities. Just before San Simeon, Honora spotted what she thought were logs on the beach; we realized it was elephant seals and in September, juvenile and first year seals haul themselves out of the water to rest. They lolled on the beach and flicked sand on themselves. A fascinating spectacle to watch. After a late lunch in San Simeon, we drove through to Santa Barbara without stopping. But we were committed to driving Highway 1 and after passing through Guadalupe, we putted along behind a colossal tractor moving at a snail’s pace between fields of what we think are kale. When he finally pulled over to turn and we drove by, he dwarfed us.

Finally, about 6:30, we found our hotel in Santa Barbara; beautiful in the photos and with glowing reports on Trip Advisor but in reality, while clean, we were wedged in a rather unsavory part of town next to an apartment house with laundry hanging from the windows. Our room, with windows on three sides, looked out over the apartment with the laundry in the windows, the baseball field with stadium lighting, and a narrow hallway looking at the backdoor of another room. We were both distressed at the prospect of spending three nights in this hell hole and promptly went on line and found another possibility. We drove to the new hotel; we were definitely not going to book sight unseen. It’s lovely, across from the beach and we’re booked for tomorrow night and Sunday night. They also have a nice restaurant with an outdoor patio so we decided to eat there as it was almost 8 PM. Our meal was delightful: we shared an appetizer of crab cakes and I had blackened ahi tuna on a bed of greens with mango salsa, almonds, kalamata olives and goat cheese. We also had some Santa Barbara Pinot Noir. Our table was next to a fountain and since it was too dark to photograph our food, I took this shot of the fountain.

Despite the delays and the disappointment of our hotel, all’s well that ends well. We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. The scenery on trip down was breathtaking, the Pacific was gorgeous, the seals were entertaining, Honora and I had a great time, and I captured some beautiful shots.

We slept in this morning and took it easy, lazing in our room at the Wayside Inn waiting for the clouds to burn off.

We arrived at the Montery Bay Aquarium about 11. I loved the Aquarium. It is beautifully designed and a fascinating journey to a world that is exotic and one we would never be able to visit were it not for this wonderful place. I was fascinated by the schools of sardines and anchovies, taking endless photos trying to capture their silvery magic. None of the photos turned out to my satisfaction. But when we entered the “Open Ocean” exhibit, I couldn’t pry myself away. It was like watching an aquarium video. I was mesmerized by the schools of schools of fish circling behind the 14 inch plexiglass, which plexiglass made it impossible to achieve crisp focus, even with my 24-70mm lens. The hammerhead shark was elusive but I managed to capture one acceptable shot. Then we entered the jellies exhibit. I was blown away.

On the way home from the Aquarium, we took the 17 Mile Drive through Pebble Beach.

For dinner, we returned to André’s Bouchée and sat at the Chef’s Table for another delightful evening with Chef Jacques. Honora had short ribs and I had a curried monkfish. It was almost as if we were back at the Aquarium, with Chef Jacques demonstrating the swimming capabilities of a recently departed Dover Sole. The entrée was preceded by an incredibly sexy mushroom soup; deceptively simple with the complex flavors of chanterelles and porcini and I don’t know what other mushrooms. It was the kind of flavor that almost triggered me into an imitation of Meg Ryan’s performance in “When Harry Met Sally” but having done that just the previous Saturday at Lucca in Saramento over the indescribably delicious chocolate dessert and which prompted a person at the next table to mimic the line from that movie, “I’ll have what she’s having,” I decided it was probably too soon for a repeat performance. And for dessert, yet another chocolate delight made with a French caramel candy combined with the molten chocolate. Oh, my.

I had switched to my 50mm lens and with it wide open of course the depth of field was incredibly shallow. That, coupled with having already consumed the complimentary glass of bubbly and more than my share of a bottle of Pinot Noir, my food shots, and those of Jacques, are not focused properly, but you get the idea.

We capped off a wonderful first day of our trip with a delectable dinner at André’s Bouchée, just a block from our hotel. Honora’s friend Megan recommended it highly and suggested we request to dine at the “chef’s table.” We made reservations on our arrival in Carmel and as we walked around Carmel in the afternoon, we met a local jeweler who recommended the best Carmel restaurant he’s eaten at in his twelve years here: André’s Bouchée. We were not disappointed. We sat at a granite topped counter looking into the kitchen and were entertained by the very outgoing Chef Jacques Zagouri and the very shy sous chef, Betoin.

Our appetizer was mussels with garlic, butter, bread crumbs and parsley, baked on a bed of sea salt. Here is the empty serving dish!

Honora ordered quail and I ordered scallops. We each sampled the other’s fare and both entrées were indescribably delicious.

Of course we had dessert: a fig tart and two flavors of crème brulée.

We had such a wonderful meal and such a delightful evening spent talking with Chef Jacques and observing a master chef in action that we decided to return tomorrow night for another exciting adventure. We told the chef about our trip and when we mentioned Morro Bay was one of our stops, he asked if we liked oysters and told us he would serve us oysters from Morro Bay when we return tomorrow. Honora said she didn’t like raw oysters and although the kitchen was closed by then, Jacques disappeared and returned with a single oyster which he shucked as we watched and then he came out of the kitchen to where we were seated and fed the oyster to Honora in the ultimate act of personal service!

In the movie, “Thelma and Louise” brought some “heat” with them and that got them into an awful lot of trouble so in our 2012 version, the “heat” is our hair dryer and Honora and I packed just a few other things to take with us on our ten day journey down the California coast between Carmel and Santa Barbara.

We actually managed to fit it all into the trunk of our rented Mazda 3 and took off for Carmel at about 9:30 this morning.

We pulled over at Marina State Beach for our first walk on a sandy beach about 1 PM.

Here’s the view from the patio of our room at the Wayside Inn in Carmel and we were impressed with the fancy toilet paper so I had to include a shot of that, too!

Lunch at the Patisserie Boissiere included a marinated artichoke that we shared.

After lunch, we meandered through the quaint streets of Carmel, enjoying the ambiance, lovely flowers, and the uncrowded streets on a post-Labor Day Wednesday. We passed the volunteer fire department and I took a photo of Honora taking photos and one of our usual “reflections” photos in the show window of a Louis Vuitton store.

I’m in Santa Rosa tonight with my friend and traveling companion Honora (I’m Thelma to her Louise) and we’re embarking on our Highway 1 road trip tomorrow morning. I arrived here late afternoon and after relaxing for an hour or so, we went around the corner from her house to a neighborhood hamburger joint for dinner. A beautiful, vintage Porsche was parked in front. I have always loved Porsches and this was a beautiful car. I took a few shots but liked the simple lines of this closeup the best. Our restaurant in Town and Country Village is reflected in the chrome.

Focal Length 70mm
ISO 320
f/2.8
1/640
Auto WB

I have been busy. And not only with photography and hawks. I have become business partners with my friend Jesse and we will be opening a coffee house and theater in Rocklin within a couple of months. It’s been in the talking stages for a couple of years but suddenly became a reality when the right building presented itself and we negotiated a lease about a month ago. Since then, we’ve been immersed in paperwork. Ah, paperwork. Since I once worked as a low level government functionary, I am intimately familiar with the types and scope of seemingly endless and sometimes meaningless paperwork required by government entities, whether they be city, county, state, or federal. Most of the paperwork is behind us finally and we’re now into the “tenant improvement” part of the project with construction dust everywhere. Soon we’ll be planning menus and developing recipes. We’re excited to be featuring local foods to the extent possible. Our coffee is Vaneli’s Handcrafted Coffees, based in Rocklin where we are opening. I featured Vaneli’s in my blog when we first toured there almost a month ago and we are excited that they will be our signature coffee. We’ll be serving soups, sandwiches, and salads during the day and in the evening, we will feature appetizers and small plates. Our evening entertainment, by ticket or invitation only, will feature live blues and jazz, including nationally known musical acts, as well as comedy, mystery theater, and regional plays. We will also be serving beer and wine, so some of the paperwork, well, I have to admit, most of the paperwork, we’ve been dealing with is that from the Department of Alcohol Beverage Control. One of the myriad requirements is that we post a sign telling the world that we are planning to sell , *gasp* , alcoholic beverages on our premises.

I photographed the required ABC sign for today’s blog and I decided to introduce the logo for our venue, Famous Mo’s. As we progress, I’ll be posting more details. In the meantime, tomorrow, I am embarking on a respite from Famous Mo’s with my old friend, Honora, and we will be driving Highway 1 down the California coast in a sort of 2012 version of Thelma and Louise, without any cliff drama. I’m thinking I should subtitle it, “In search of the new Brad Pitt.” When I return, Famous Mo’s construction should be well underway.

I spent the day at the San Francisco Caledonian Club’s annual Scottish Games in Pleasanton. Lots of men in skirts. Nary a wimp among them. Those Scots are pretty macho. They’re not afraid to wear skirts. Very few women there had skirts on. I was there at the request of the California Foundation for Birds of Prey, my hawk rescue group, to take photos of the event and the shows they presented to the mesmerized crowds. The Scots were also falconers, going back centuries, and many of the members of the CFBP are falconers as well so it makes sense that the CFBP attend the Scottish Games.

I used my 24-70mm lens for all the shots.

Here are a few of those macho men in skirts.

And here are Cleo and Mike. Mike is Cleo’s handler, caretaker, trainer, and life saver. This is clearly a loving relationship… a boy and his … eagle? Cleo is a golden eagle who cannot be released because she has limited vision as a result of contracting West Nile virus as a fledgling. She is one of many CFBP ambassador/education birds.

And here is Jack Sparrowhawk, a kestrel, once called a sparrow hawk although he is not a hawk but the smallest north American falcon. Like Cleo, Jack is a CFBP ambassador and education bird. He imprinted on humans after well-intentioned but misguided people found him and tried to raise him as a pet; as a result he cannot be released because he does not know how to hunt.

This is TJ, a Harris’s hawk. He is a falconer’s personal bird and he, along with Cleo, was a highlight of the show today. He was released to free fly through the delighted crowd to the stage.

And, TJ with Bridgette, his handler.

And last but not least, this is Ozzie, a four month old Screech Owl who also cannot be released because he, too, imprinted on humans. He is destined to replace Bob, a 17 year old CFBP screech owl who will be retiring soon from public life.

It’s actually been a while (at least I think it has) since I’ve featured Bobo on this blog. Sadly, Bobo’s Blog has languished from inattention. Since Bobo was acting incredibly cute this morning, running across the newspaper and attacking the edges, I decided to take some shots but when I picked up the camera, she climbed back to her cage top. Undeterred, I followed her, sat on the window seat and took several shots. My 24-70mm lens was already on the camera, set to 2.8 so despite the low light levels, I got some decently exposed shots. Since I’m no longer completely intimidated by Lightroom, and, since I’m exercising my new-found freedom to process my photos to improve them, I changed contrast, whites, blacks, and added a vignette to the second shot.

In the first shot, Bobo is hamming for the camera, something she often does when I focus on her; in the second, she espied something scary in the sky and is warily keeping an eye on it.