13 April 2012, its my 39th birthday and I've gone camping to kick off my final year as a thirtysomething. I'm alone for this one. I asked others to join, one expressed interest but ultimately no one could make it. I suppose I'm just not the sort of person that people are going to choose to do something with over the other things that they'd rather do.
Its supposed to rain today, but those who said it would can suck it, because it really didn't rain that much. The reports said it would stop by midnight, so my plan was to go up, claim a spot and if the rain was too bad I'd hang out in my car until it stopped then set up camp. And the rain was a downpour in several spots on my way up, but by the time I got to Plaskett Creek it was sunny with a slight breeze.
I stopped into Pismo Beach to find a site for my research project but couldn't find the cave that my adviser told me about. So, I walked around instead to check out the beach and see what intertidal animals did exist and whether there was a good spot to deploy my temperature sensors anyway. Pismo has a huge deep beach with lots of access points. It was the sort of day were no one was out there. Too many soft people around who appear to be unwilling to get out of their car. That's fine, I'll enjoy it by myself. While walking around, I imagine what the beach will look like in the middle of a hot day this upcoming summer with lots of people.
Soon enough my stomach begins to grumble and I think, 'what the hell its my birthday,' so I stop into a nice restaurant for a bite to eat. The Ventana Grill has spectacular views and the ocean is a particularly nice mix of blue shades from deep blue to that crystal blue typical of the eyes on a malamute. Other patrons watch as I write furiously in my journal, causing my table to shake a little and the water in my glass is making bigger waves that what I can see out on the Pacific. I wonder what they think, 'Is he a writer' or 'why is that fat man all by himself writing in a weird looking brown journal with a cheap government pen'. However, this is California and most likely they forget I existed within a tenth of a second. Releasing any inhibitions I decide to photography the menu cover. It looks nice.
Checking the cell phone, I see Mom called, but can't seem to complete the connection so that I can listen to the message. I'm sure its her annual greeting at the exact minute I was born in Eastern Standard Time. Nonetheless I've saved previous versions of this in my voice mail so I can hear my Mom wishing me a happy birthday whenever I wish. This of course is ridiculous because she's alive and well and we talk frequently enough.
Well the creative juices are flowing now and the muscle that gives me an opposable thumb is aching, but I'm not going to stop and I fill up my journal pages with ideas and thoughts.
The waitress is cute, her eyes match the ocean. If I were a better looking man, with confidence, I'd compliment her.
The food arrives, its seafood penne in one of those wide lipped shallow bowls. I instantly think there's not much food in there and I won't get my $15 worth. Thankfully I was wrong and the meal is delicious. The sauce is tangy in a Cali-mex sort of way or maybe that's just the freshly ground pepper. Bottom line: I like it.
Plaskett Creek is a nice campground, I've stayed here before, most of the tent sites are on a slight slope but the area is spacious when compared to other campgrounds, I feel like I have a little bit of privacy. Its not full yet, but many start showing up around 5 PM.
No comments:
Post a Comment