The second time we went to Bakersfield to visit Uncle Cooky was later that summer of '07.
This time, we did the smart thing and went the back way. It was so much prettier, and much more pleasant than that ugly old Grapevine. And we made it there in record time—what should be three-and-a-half – four hour drive only took eight hours!
This time, via my wonderful fella friend’s recommendation, we went up the coast to Ventura and turned inland to follow the 33 up, around and over the mountains and into the central valley.
Like always, just getting to the 10, the Santa Monica Freeway, from San Pedro took well over an hour… the San Diego Freeway is always so backed up, no matter how many thousands of lanes it has. But once we got to the 10, we were finally on our way.
Daughter Nikki had never driven up the coast through Malibu and Pacific Palisades; she loved it. Roxzi and I always went the coast the full way up to see Brother Max in Santa Cruz. We love it. Screw the Grapevine!
It was so pretty that morning. When reached Ventura/Oxnard, I was sooo tempted just to turn around so we could do the coast again.. but, sigh, we needed to head inland. Uncle Cooky awaits.
At this point, everyone had to go potty, but the stop Rox and I used before in the freeway transitions, was shutdown. “Can we all wait another 10 miles till we get to Ojai?” I shouted over the engine noise and the ska music CD we were bee-bopping to.
“Yes,” we all agreed, crossing our legs.
I had never been through, or even to, the town of Ojai. It was beautiful! And it was lunch time! Well, we found a cute little place on the outskirts of the other side of town. The first thing we all did was run in and use the facilities, then found a table outside in my beloved sun.
The menu was a little too gourmet for the girls’ taste; nothing looked good to either of them. Oh well, it looked great to me, so we got up and putted off.
The countryside was beautiful! Green, lush and well kept ranches and spreads. We weaved our way up mountains looking for the 33 turnoff, that I was getting suspicious wasn’t going to happen if we kept on our present course.
We stopped a wonderful lookout that oversaw the Ojai Valley. Awesome. At the stop, I popped open a refreshing beverage. Heck, it was after noon.
As we wound around the top of the shaded highway, we passed a take-out hamburger place called The Summit. I might not have even noticed it if not for the half dozen giant American flags planted out in front.
“We’re eating THERE!” I shouted as I wheeled the van around. There were several “big pimpin’s,” Roxzi jargon for big manly-man pickup trucks, and lots of Harleys in the parking area. I couldn’t be that bad.
Well, it wasn’t exactly fast fast-food, we had to wait a long time, and it was greasy-spoon kind of food that I don’t normally eat so I declined getting anything, saying I’d just have a bite of theirs, if they didn’t mind.
I waited in the van popping open another refreshing beverage. After about a half hour, the girls had their food and we were back on our way again, It sure did smell good, and the bite from each sandwich was delicious, but super greasy… not my preference. They loved them! Fries were good too, I had a few.
We wound our way to the friendly town of Santa Paula, where we got gas and I went into the station to ask where the turn off to the 33 was. The attendant didn’t speak much English, but I got my point across.. he basically said, we have to follow the yellow brick road back the way we came to Ojai and try again.
Grrrr.. at least it was a beautiful drive and the girls loved the Summit (it did have a great atmosphere). So just a couple hours lost while we gained an excellent scenic tour. Really, it was well worth it.
As we moseyed back into Ojai, we passed a ranger station. “That would be a good place to ask directions,” I commented looking over my shoulder as we toodled past.
Roxzi turned into the mom, shoved a piece of gum in my mouth and demanded we turn around, go back and ask. We were all giggling as I did as I was told.
We explained our dilemma and where we were trying to go and where we’d been. The stone-faced but extremely nice, never-a-care-in-the-world ranger, slowly drawled, “Oh, the back way to Bakersfield, eh?”
“Yep, that’s pretty much the size of it.”
“Welp, the turnoff’s way at the beginning of town,” he said pointing in that direction. “You’ll see a big Von’s shopping center then go right at a three-way intersection. The sign for the turn is kind of blocked by the bushes coming the other way, but you can’t miss it coming from this way.” He smiled (I think), and wished us luck.
On the road again..
Just as he said, we found the turn easily and quickly realized we were now approaching the middle of a new nowhere, climbing up the enormous mountains I knew Huck would safely transport us over. It was pretty, but unlike the lushness of the mountain road on the other side of Ojai, it was barren. We were basically alone on the two-lane highway.
Both girls fell asleep as I happily drove along not having to contend with too many other, faster cars. I don’t think we passed (or were passed up by) more than five cars the whole way. We went up and over. It was a little scary at times as there were terrific vistas, tremendous drops, and often, no guardrails.
As we came down the other side of the mountains, I could see the long straight flat roads in the valley ahead, breathed a sigh of relief, and knew Bakersfield would be ours soon. But gee, I sure had to pee.
This side of the mountain, the southern portion of the central valley was velvet painted in glorious shades of gold, yellow and brown. It was fire season, so even the sky glowed yellow in the late afternoon sun.
The girls had long woken up and also needed to empty their bladders too. There really was nowhere to stop, so I pushed ahead on the long, flat, straight highway.
It wasn’t too long until we drove into the hole-in-wall town of Maricopa. We pulled into a crumby little convenience store parking lot. The girls ran in first. I waited with Huck (the population looked a little, well, not great). When it was my turn, I asked Nikki to pour me a nice cold refreshing beverage in my special cup. We were almost there, and all roads were straight ahead and flat and from this point, I knew the way.
Well, Roxzi took on the chore but while she was doing the deed in the back of the van with the side door wide open, a cop pulls up. Nikki, standing guard, warns Roxzi who, panic stricken, tries to cover up her action and the silver can.
He gets out of his car, walks straight over to the van and strikes up a conversation with Roxzi, a minor, who was sitting practically red-handed with an open container and sweating bullets. (I wonder… couldn’t he smell the fresh hops??)
Geeze! When I came out of the store (and it took a few minutes cause I had to wait in line), both girls, perspiration dripping from their whitened faces, fired at me what happened—
“Mom! A cop came right up to the van as I was pouring your cold one! I’ve never been so scared in my life!”
“Let’s just get out of here!” Nikki pleaded repetedly looking around warily.
I hustled them in the van and tried to quiet them down. It was obviously okay, there were no cops now.
“Mom! I was sitting there pouring YOU a BEER, and the dumb-ass cop comes right up and asks me, ‘Is this a REAL Volkswagen van?’”
Well, I did see the very young officer she was talking about cajoling with a group of teeny-bopper girls who were hanging out when I came out of the store He was perfectly harmless, a nice guy… the kind who wants to be a policeman to do good and help people. A peace keeper.
I reassured my girls of that fact, as we high-tailed it out of there. I secretly hoped that they weren’t waiting for me down the road apiece. They were not.
Mercy in Maricopa—thank you, my Angels!
We made it in short order to our motel in beautiful downtown Bakersfield without any further incidents. Once again we choose the Quality Inn.
This time we had a second floor room with a view of the pool, but alas, no grasshopper greetings. Shucks.
And once again, the best part of the whole trip was getting there.
So, I want to leave you all with the idea, that the goal is great, but the journey is the most exciting part.
Love to all!
This time, we did the smart thing and went the back way. It was so much prettier, and much more pleasant than that ugly old Grapevine. And we made it there in record time—what should be three-and-a-half – four hour drive only took eight hours!
This time, via my wonderful fella friend’s recommendation, we went up the coast to Ventura and turned inland to follow the 33 up, around and over the mountains and into the central valley.
Like always, just getting to the 10, the Santa Monica Freeway, from San Pedro took well over an hour… the San Diego Freeway is always so backed up, no matter how many thousands of lanes it has. But once we got to the 10, we were finally on our way.
Daughter Nikki had never driven up the coast through Malibu and Pacific Palisades; she loved it. Roxzi and I always went the coast the full way up to see Brother Max in Santa Cruz. We love it. Screw the Grapevine!
It was so pretty that morning. When reached Ventura/Oxnard, I was sooo tempted just to turn around so we could do the coast again.. but, sigh, we needed to head inland. Uncle Cooky awaits.
At this point, everyone had to go potty, but the stop Rox and I used before in the freeway transitions, was shutdown. “Can we all wait another 10 miles till we get to Ojai?” I shouted over the engine noise and the ska music CD we were bee-bopping to.
“Yes,” we all agreed, crossing our legs.
I had never been through, or even to, the town of Ojai. It was beautiful! And it was lunch time! Well, we found a cute little place on the outskirts of the other side of town. The first thing we all did was run in and use the facilities, then found a table outside in my beloved sun.
The menu was a little too gourmet for the girls’ taste; nothing looked good to either of them. Oh well, it looked great to me, so we got up and putted off.
The countryside was beautiful! Green, lush and well kept ranches and spreads. We weaved our way up mountains looking for the 33 turnoff, that I was getting suspicious wasn’t going to happen if we kept on our present course.
We stopped a wonderful lookout that oversaw the Ojai Valley. Awesome. At the stop, I popped open a refreshing beverage. Heck, it was after noon.
As we wound around the top of the shaded highway, we passed a take-out hamburger place called The Summit. I might not have even noticed it if not for the half dozen giant American flags planted out in front.
“We’re eating THERE!” I shouted as I wheeled the van around. There were several “big pimpin’s,” Roxzi jargon for big manly-man pickup trucks, and lots of Harleys in the parking area. I couldn’t be that bad.
Well, it wasn’t exactly fast fast-food, we had to wait a long time, and it was greasy-spoon kind of food that I don’t normally eat so I declined getting anything, saying I’d just have a bite of theirs, if they didn’t mind.
I waited in the van popping open another refreshing beverage. After about a half hour, the girls had their food and we were back on our way again, It sure did smell good, and the bite from each sandwich was delicious, but super greasy… not my preference. They loved them! Fries were good too, I had a few.
We wound our way to the friendly town of Santa Paula, where we got gas and I went into the station to ask where the turn off to the 33 was. The attendant didn’t speak much English, but I got my point across.. he basically said, we have to follow the yellow brick road back the way we came to Ojai and try again.
Grrrr.. at least it was a beautiful drive and the girls loved the Summit (it did have a great atmosphere). So just a couple hours lost while we gained an excellent scenic tour. Really, it was well worth it.
As we moseyed back into Ojai, we passed a ranger station. “That would be a good place to ask directions,” I commented looking over my shoulder as we toodled past.
Roxzi turned into the mom, shoved a piece of gum in my mouth and demanded we turn around, go back and ask. We were all giggling as I did as I was told.
We explained our dilemma and where we were trying to go and where we’d been. The stone-faced but extremely nice, never-a-care-in-the-world ranger, slowly drawled, “Oh, the back way to Bakersfield, eh?”
“Yep, that’s pretty much the size of it.”
“Welp, the turnoff’s way at the beginning of town,” he said pointing in that direction. “You’ll see a big Von’s shopping center then go right at a three-way intersection. The sign for the turn is kind of blocked by the bushes coming the other way, but you can’t miss it coming from this way.” He smiled (I think), and wished us luck.
On the road again..
Just as he said, we found the turn easily and quickly realized we were now approaching the middle of a new nowhere, climbing up the enormous mountains I knew Huck would safely transport us over. It was pretty, but unlike the lushness of the mountain road on the other side of Ojai, it was barren. We were basically alone on the two-lane highway.
Both girls fell asleep as I happily drove along not having to contend with too many other, faster cars. I don’t think we passed (or were passed up by) more than five cars the whole way. We went up and over. It was a little scary at times as there were terrific vistas, tremendous drops, and often, no guardrails.
As we came down the other side of the mountains, I could see the long straight flat roads in the valley ahead, breathed a sigh of relief, and knew Bakersfield would be ours soon. But gee, I sure had to pee.
This side of the mountain, the southern portion of the central valley was velvet painted in glorious shades of gold, yellow and brown. It was fire season, so even the sky glowed yellow in the late afternoon sun.
The girls had long woken up and also needed to empty their bladders too. There really was nowhere to stop, so I pushed ahead on the long, flat, straight highway.
It wasn’t too long until we drove into the hole-in-wall town of Maricopa. We pulled into a crumby little convenience store parking lot. The girls ran in first. I waited with Huck (the population looked a little, well, not great). When it was my turn, I asked Nikki to pour me a nice cold refreshing beverage in my special cup. We were almost there, and all roads were straight ahead and flat and from this point, I knew the way.
Well, Roxzi took on the chore but while she was doing the deed in the back of the van with the side door wide open, a cop pulls up. Nikki, standing guard, warns Roxzi who, panic stricken, tries to cover up her action and the silver can.
He gets out of his car, walks straight over to the van and strikes up a conversation with Roxzi, a minor, who was sitting practically red-handed with an open container and sweating bullets. (I wonder… couldn’t he smell the fresh hops??)
Geeze! When I came out of the store (and it took a few minutes cause I had to wait in line), both girls, perspiration dripping from their whitened faces, fired at me what happened—
“Mom! A cop came right up to the van as I was pouring your cold one! I’ve never been so scared in my life!”
“Let’s just get out of here!” Nikki pleaded repetedly looking around warily.
I hustled them in the van and tried to quiet them down. It was obviously okay, there were no cops now.
“Mom! I was sitting there pouring YOU a BEER, and the dumb-ass cop comes right up and asks me, ‘Is this a REAL Volkswagen van?’”
Well, I did see the very young officer she was talking about cajoling with a group of teeny-bopper girls who were hanging out when I came out of the store He was perfectly harmless, a nice guy… the kind who wants to be a policeman to do good and help people. A peace keeper.
I reassured my girls of that fact, as we high-tailed it out of there. I secretly hoped that they weren’t waiting for me down the road apiece. They were not.
Mercy in Maricopa—thank you, my Angels!
We made it in short order to our motel in beautiful downtown Bakersfield without any further incidents. Once again we choose the Quality Inn.
This time we had a second floor room with a view of the pool, but alas, no grasshopper greetings. Shucks.
And once again, the best part of the whole trip was getting there.
So, I want to leave you all with the idea, that the goal is great, but the journey is the most exciting part.
Love to all!
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