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We left Ojai...threading up the coast hiway toward Monterey Bay...that first day of our journey...our bright orange and white vw camper van, chugging along...quite happily...We made it all the way to San Francisco, that same day...hungry for some dinner that late afternoon...
Angie, my sidekick, my friend, my quadraplegic dear...we escaped again...from Doctors and from nurses...and from antiseptic smells, and protocols...they trained me to take care of her and trained me well...we even raised a little hell...now and then...
We found a bayside restaurant...standing high on piers...Angie couldn't sight a ramp...just many many steps, to mount to their front door..."you ready Angie?"..."Yup!" was all she said...we spun around, I tilt her back in that old wheel chair...we mounted thirteen steps, up the gallows there...
Bump bump bump bump!...it went...we finally there...that front door hard to open, yet, no sweat! I got the damn thing open...proprietor's were giving us 'the glare'...'why'd you think we put the thirteen steps out there?" they thought..."to throw you down.", my silent minded muse conjured...my lips quiet...
We had a dinner there, in spite of cold and friendless fare...then we left...bump bump bump bump! I shook the dust from off my feet, at the bottom of the stair...we high tailed out of there, across the Golden Gate...and on a few miles more...we stopped for lodging, rest and care...
Next morning come...bright sunny day, more miles we chugged our way along the coast hiway..until we came, at last...to a little place called...Trinidad...had a lighthouse, and a store, an artist gallery or two,,,as all sea front villages are wont to do,,,and a very good chowder seafood cafe...and there we stopped to eat and reconnoiter...
They were very kind to both of us...I said "Hey! Angie! You suppose we'd stay if we could find a place here?" "I guess." she said...I walked across the parking lot to the busy grocery store, and there upon the wall, an old cork board...stuffed with notes and business cards...I looked, and nothing there...but then...
This 'post it note' falls down to the ground, just like a magic feather...Trailer house and Cadillac to trade, call Patrick's Point, View Crest...blah blah blah...we called, we went, nice couple, bent on leaving there...this day...eyed our sweet VW..."So what you think." I said...and Angie looked at me. a little tear at the corner of her eye...
We traded straight across that day...they drove away in our van...I looked at the 1947 Prairie Schooner trailer, and the 67 Cadillac De Ville...said..."Angie!...Oh My God! We got a home!" That was the last day of sunshine, and for six months it rained and rained and rained...and I knew Angie, my girl, was sore at me...
I hooked us up...we pulled out there, down that California coast in Cadillac style...two 'stylin' gypsy's, bent for warmer climes...drag'n that silver beast...inside of three days, we were camped again, above the town of San Luis Obispo...we would camp there for ten years...a few tears, a lot of smiles...a lot of living lived by both of us...a lot of growing...
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2015
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