expeditionLIFE ~ America! blog 2

“Alright, well, this ain’t your mom’s house.” Almost joking wood smoke sunlight.

“What time is it?” Nearly incoherent ocean children traffic.

“Nine. Five after nine.”

From the light and they way grandpa was dressed and had been thumping about I thought it was ten or eleven. Nine? I knew going on a road trip with a person well advanced in years would have its gambles. Most ol folks I know get up at like 6 am, cause they say they can’t sleep anymore. And I heard tell that when you get old you don’t need as much sleep, or maybe you don’t wanna waste the time.

We gotta take this thing incrementally I tell Ben. I mean, tomorrow let’s shoot for 8:30 then we’ll try eight...but...
The toilet is leaking like a sonnafabitch and we swing around Newport looking for a Hardware store, some joe and breakfast. A sit down breakfast, grandpa preferred.
The young ladies of Newport wear far too much make up, and our waitress was no exception, except she was not young. She had one of those smoke stack voices huge rings and smiled as she joshed us and poured coffee.

101 is a dream of rolling coast and wind bent trees. Drive it sometime. We pull off and I hop along the carpet of mollusks and watch the fat starfish slowly creep. Sea Lion cave, was stinking and positively filled the the ruckus of the flabby mammals. They flopped and squirmed over each other, tolerating the pandemonium of others that I don’t think we have a capacity for.

We head inland, see a herd of elk, mostly cows. One bull. But he was young.

We munched sandwiches, and talked and talked and talked.