After a stay in Jacumba on the Cali-Baja border, at a slighty grimey German-run hotspring—we were primed to “roll downhill” into San Diego. Yeah right.
It had been a monster climb up to the hotspring the day before (perhaps the toughest on the trip, though not half as tall as Emory Pass) so we were hoping the downhill would be rewarding. Unfortunately we had fairly tough up and downs on the top of the range, and then tons of smaller hills on the way into San Diego. The sun set as we scaled hill after hill, hoping that with the next pass the Pacific would be in sight.
And finally, with one last great roll down to sea level, it was. I skipped down to the Pier to tag the salty water. John and I celebrated the end of our journey (which fell upon St. Patrick's Day) with a great dinner at Anthony's seafood restaurant.
We visited my Uncle Pat and Aunt Girlie the next day before setting off for our “victory lap” to Los Angeles, which turned out to be a fun jaunt up to San Juan Capistrano through the swanky O.C. A comfy guesthouse was waiting for us with John's good friend Jake and his fiance Lauralee.
And before long, we were eating sushi in little Tokyo, wearing “civies” (aka not lycra), and driving around in a Mini Cooper with the top down. How easy it seemed to plop right back into civilization. But just as the smell of a campfire stays with you, memories of our great journey, I know, will always be with us. We had a blast.
Congrats you two and thanks for the postcard. I had just about convinced Max that lying was going to get him nowhere in life, and now he wants to move to Texas where we he will be welcome. Say hi to Jake for me.
ReplyDeleteAww I can't believe you're done! Crazy! Maybe one day I will embark on a similar journey... ;)
ReplyDeleteHey there Josh. Before you write off Texas completely, did you know they have no state income taxes?
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