la la land

Mileage: 3013

Day: 11

First off - there were, sadly, no celebrity sightings in LA. So I can’t tell you who is fatter, shorter or more Botoxed in real life than they appear on screen. I can tell you that LA is, not surprisingly, a little gritty, a little dirty, and a little weird. The traffic is also horrendous. (How’s that for some original commentary on the city of angels?) The city is huge, though, so it’s not really fair to make generalizations. And, while there were no direct celebrity sightings per se, I did feel like we got a taste of Hollywood. This is thanks to my cousin Ben and his roommates, who offered up the spare room in their place, which was just a short bike ride from Venice Beach. Ben tells us that you can see the Hollywood sign from their rooftop, but when we looked it was covered by smog (which seemed like an LA experience in itself).

Before we even got to Ben’s, (and after stopping at a Bally’s, faking a workout, and taking a shower - so as not to arrive in LA smelling like a campfire), our first Los Angeles destination was the special effects and animation studio where Ben has just about the coolest job ever as an artist. The office was the kind you might assume exists only in movies made by Hollywood, not as an actual functioning workplace in Santa Monica. The architecture and interior design were unnecessarily cool and each room was filled with casually dressed artistic computer geniuses, creating and manipulating images and doing more technical work that I wouldn’t be able to describe to you if I tried. Suffice it to say that while Ben himself is not Hollywood, his job certainly is, and I felt fortunate to be able to get an inside look at it. Without Ben to let us in and show us around, I doubt we would have been able to see the inside of a studio like that (not without being escorted out as confused, lost Minnesotans in big, overwhelming LA, at least).

So you know the stereotype that everyone in New York City is trying to break into Broadway and everyone in LA is trying to sell a screenplay/TV series/themselves as an actor/writer/director etc? All I have to say about that is that is that of the 10 or so people we met while staying in LA, two of them were in meetings pitching a TV show with a well known actor. And if/when this TV show airs, I will brag that I was there in the beginning. Not actually. But at least I’ll be able to give you the actor’s name.

Hollywood itself (the location, not the concept) was a little less than impressive. I am glad I was there, so I can have a legitimate opinion about it, but now that I’ve been, I doubt I’ll ever feel the need to go again. A good portion of Hollywood Boulevard is the LA described above (gritty, dirty, weird, congested). Not that it matters all that much, since as a first-timer you walk the boulevard with your heard down, trying to read the stars - every other one is upside down - and calling out the most interesting ones to your walking companion (Mr. Rogers! Peewee Herman! Lassie!) The cleaner end of the boulevard, with the Chinese Theater, has stores like Gap and Banana Republic alongside a bunch of souvenir shops where you can purchase your very own Oscar and looks more like what I had pictured Hollywood to look like. Not that it’s any less weird. We happened to be there on the anniversary of Michael Jackson’s death. And you know how intense Michael Jackson fans can be. Now picture a mob of them. At his star on Hollywood Boulevard. On the anniversary of his death. With music.

If I could recommend visiting anything in Hollywood, though, (and in close proximity to Michael Jackson’s star, if you heading there to moonwalk anyway), it would be the Chinese Theater. If for no other reason than to be able to say with confidence that while Matt Damon’s feet are big, his hands are not. And that Shirley Temple’s contribution if freaking adorable.

If you’re in LA and you’re feeling a little down, a little like an outcast, like you’ll never fit in, and all you want is to feel like a normal, ordinary, boring person, get thee down to the Venice Boardwalk. You’ll never feel weird again. There’s nothing like block after block of fact tattoos, spray painted dogs, ‘found’ objects like skulls and teeth for sale, and dudes who look way too stoned already holding cardboard signs saying ‘Why lie? I need weed’ to make you feel like a boring Midwesterner. In the midst of it all, there was a $5 freak show boasting two headed dogs, chickens, pigs... and the world’s most tattooed man. But the Venice Boardwalk is a freak show in itself and the world’s most tattooed man can’t have that many more tattoos than guy hawking hand-painted skulls, so we figured why waste the $5? If you do make it to Venice Beach, though, my suggestion is this: take or rent a bike. There is an excellent bike trail running all along the beach that offers a fun ride and a respite (or fast escape, if necessary) from the boardwalk.

For a more posh, less goth LA experience, head to Abbott Kinney. If you’re on my budget, this trip will consist mainly of window shopping, but the shops are so cool you won’t care. The area feels a little like New York’s Soho and a little European as well. And if you don’t mind paying $4 for a black coffee (which, even on my budget, I don’t when the coffee is this good and individually prepared in front of you), make a stop at Intelligentsia. The name is snobby, the decor is more minimalist than cozy, but the coffee is incredible. If you don’t want to pay $4 for a black coffee, you can pay about $5 for a mocha (the best I’ve had in some time) prepared for you by a barista who is really more of a coffee consultant and who can tell you that the chocolate they use us a combination of 63% bittersweet and their homemade ganache. I don’t even know what ganache is, but it was tasty. The place not to get a coffee, by the way, is the “coffee shop” on the corner of Beethoven and Venice where espresso is spelled ‘expreso’. They did make a mango smoothie that tasted like an Orange Julius though, so if that’s your thing...

And for an art museum LA style, the Getty will not disappoint. It’s not the best art museum I’ve ever been to, but it does have a nice collection, and the architecture and landscaping of the museum itself are nearly as impressive as the pieces on display. Plus, I found a new favorite Degas, titled ‘Waiting’.

Side note - for those of you following the gas light counter, it will (hopefully!) be staying where it’s at. On our 2 mile an hour crawl out of Hollywood the night before we left LA, the ‘check engine’ light came on. After taking the car to the shop the following morning (thanks Andrew!) we learned that the fuel gauge censor isn’t working correctly and so now, at any given point, we have some amount of gas less than what the car is telling us we have. We are making it a goal not to have any stranded-on-the-side-of-the-road postings; though, if it happens, I promise to write about it.

On our last day in LA, after watching the US get ousted from the World Cup by Ghana, we lightened the mood California style, by surfing in Malibu. (I use the term ‘we’ loosely - meaning Ben, his roommate Andrew, their two friends, the new recruit Curt, and me - beachside blogger/photographer).

Best overheard quote in LA:

“I’ve got a particular pepper I’d like to pickle.”

“Oh, we’ve all got one of those.”

san diego is for yogurt lovers

First stop in Cali was sunny San Diego.We had debated crossing over to Mexico before starting the California bit, (I thought it would be cool to go from Mexico to Canada), but that would have meant Tijuana and we decided it would be a little foolish to risk our lives just to be able to say that. (Maybe I'm exaggerating, but from what I've heard about Tijuana - if I am, it's not by much.) So the coastal leg of the trip is from San Diego to Vancouver, and that will just have to be good enough.

Our contact in San Diego (who made some excellent food recommendations and provided an exceptionally comfortable couch to crash on) was my friend and longtime family friend Brittany. She graciously let us crash with her at her ocean view condo, even though she's moving in less than a week, works full time and is getting her Master's, not to mention that her boyfriend, who was also with us much of the time, had thrown out his back. (Guys - if you're reading this - much appreciated.) Also much appreciated was Brittany's expert opinion on the best - and affordable - San Diego eats. My personal favorite (and what I already know I'll be craving back in Minneapolis) was Yogurtland. It's like a playground for frozen yogurt lovers or anybody who made sundaes as a kid and used every little treat they could find in their kitchen as toppings. I fall into both of those categories, so when our first day in San Diego started with a visit to Mission Beach followed by a trip to Yogurtland, I was a happy girl. A trip to Yogurtland (so you'll be prepared when Yogurtland takes over the world and you have to visit it after every meal) goes like this: you arrive, grab a bowl large enough to hold a meal for a family of four, travel down the boardwalk of soft serve frozen yogurt flavors (if you can choose fewer than five of them, I salute you), and then top your pistachio/German chocolate/strawberry-kiwi/New York cheesecake/cookies and cream bowl of goodness with as many delicious toppings as you can fit in the massive bowl, from fresh mango and blackberries to cookie dough and gummy worms, finally ending at the checkout counter where you pay (by the ounce) and try to look away from the scale when it shows how much what you're about to consume actually weighs but gladly hand over whatever amount the cashier tells you to because you just can't wait to actually consume it. I hear there are other Yogurtlands in California. I will be visiting them.

Day 2 in San Diego started with another of Brittany's recommendations - breakfast at Chocolat. If you're in San Diego, find it, go there, and order the banana Nutella crepe. Pair that with a coffee (served to you in a cup and saucer with your own tiny silver carafe for refills) and you won't regret it. You'll only have to ignore the fact that this seems to be the hangout of choice for aging San Diego women who, like you, have nowhere to be on a Monday morning. But there's really no need to worry about that because San Diegans are just so gosh darn nice. I suppose, coming from the state that often has 'nice' added to its name, but also coming from the Uptown Minneapolis, where the service generally seems to intentionally defy that stereotype, I wasn't expecting such niceness from a city in Southern California. And it's not because we were spending so much money and the employees were sucking up for large tips. The two nicest guys we came across were servers at a coffee shop in La Jolla, where we were splitting one coffee and stealing some wifi. Maybe it's all the sunshine here.

Speaking of La Jolla (which is not pronounced La Holla, like I wanted to call it, but La Hoya), this was probably my favorite area of San Diego. (And this is disregarding the fact that it may be the ritziest part of San Diego - and thus not my style.) The La Jolla cove is nothing short of gorgeous and a perfect place for seal watching. Their awkward waddle from the water to the beach is priceless. While we're on the topic of adorable creature watching, by the way - we didn't go to the zoo. I know, I know - it's the thing to do in San Diego and we skipped it. Judge me if you must, but I don't really know what I think of zoos in general, even the San Diego one, so there it is. We had a lovely time in San Diego, without visiting the zoo, and pushed on.

Travel tip: If you're going camping on the California coast, but you're a city kid who can't sleep without familiar sounds around you, my suggestion is that you camp at San Onofre state beach, like we did. The ocean, with beautiful surfing waves and the soothing sound of pebbles tumbling under water from the rocky beach, is just far enough away not to be heard. The camping area is instead next to the parking lot, which stretches alongside the highway and some train tracks (how do we keep finding these places?) Partner the sounds of the semis approaching the weigh stations with the sounds of the trains on the half hour and a mix of the worst music from 10 years ago (consisting largely of Nickelback and Stain'd songs) generously provided to you by the late arriving college kids at the campsite next to you - and you'll forget you're even on the coast. You could be sleeping in your apartment in Minneapolis.

Luckily, the beach was a short walk away.

But we sat a little too close to the water for the way the tide was moving.

And were nearly swept away.

But only nearly. So the next morning we continued on to LA.

& away we go...

So here it is. We hit the road at 6:30 am on Wednesday, June 16th - the start of a roughly two month long road trip of West Coast, bottom to top. With our stuff in storage, the car is our new home. And since we live in the middle of the country, it takes a bit to actually get to the coast.

No hard feelings, Iowa and Nebraska - but we drove straight through you. It could be a while before we come back. This may or may not be because much of Nebraska smells like pig manure. Even from the car. With the windows up. Just saying.

So, partly due to the less than pleasant aroma and partly because our first real destination was my aunt's place near Colorado Springs, we pushed through to Colorado on the first day. The smell disappeared as we crossed the border (and I felt a little better about sleeping outside and breathing the mountain air). However, night one was spent at the Pepper Pod campground, a deceivingly cute name for a somewhat less than cute campground. Though after 14 hours of driving, you find yourself less than picky. Pepper Pod was conveniently nestled between the highway and the train tracks - with a bar completing the triangle of noise that surrounded our first night in the tent. It wasn't terrible, but let's just say we're making it a goal for that to be the low point of our camping experiences.

On our way to Colorado Springs, we took a trip up a mountain to visit the tucked away little community of Nederland. It's certainly not the most convenient place to visit, but the drive is beautiful, and the people of Nederland seem to really appreciate that you made the trip all the way up there. Their dogs (who are resident greeters at nearly all the local businesses) are just as welcoming. It's a town that would be a perfect place to spend some time and recharge. One car we passed had a bumper sticker that said 'Neditate,' which pretty much sums it up.

Night two was genuinely cute, not deceiving so, as it was spent with family (including my cousin's two adorable daughters - the younger of the two who couldn't pronounce Curt's name and spent much of the evening saying, 'Excuse me, Turtis, but could you please watch me do ___?')

It was so great to see my aunt and cousins (the kind of family who you never see very often, but every time you do, it's like no time at all has passed). And the timing was perfect, as it coincided with one of the cousin's 2-day layovers in Colorado - between scuba training in Panama and heading back to Hawaii where she's currently living and being her fearless, amazing self.

After just one night with the family, we pushed on toward the Grand Canyon, with a stop at the famed tourist trap Four Corners on the way. Out of luck, though - it was closed when we got there. I'm still trying to figure out how a geographical point where four states meet can be closed for construction...

But we managed to take a cheesy tourist pic anyway...

The disappointment of the Four Corners was followed by the breathtaking sight of the Grand Canyon. Travel tip: If you want to get away from the congestion of the snapshot happy crowd at the top of the Grand Canyon, take one of the hikes a little ways down it. Apparently only 10% of the people who visit the Grand Canyon do this. Plus, the view gets more and more spectacular as you venture down into it. Curt and I took the trail that led to Ooh Ah point (or, as Curt referred to it when talking to a fellow hiker along the way, Ooh La La Point). Either way, it was appropriately named.

Before getting out of the mountains, we had our first shock of the trip - a tipped over semi up against a guard rail on a windy mountain road. It was enough to make a person slow her roll, that's for sure.

I didn't necessarily want to give Arizona any more of our money after paying to see the Grand Canyon and a stop for gas, and the coast was feeling closer all the time, so we drove until the light was nearly gone and - just before dark - found a beautiful camping area a few steps across the border in Utah. There were a few stray dogs in the area, but nothing to worry about, and rather than being awoken by the sounds of trains, highways and bars, we woke to the sound of a horse neighing and some little chirpy bird above our heads. A certain improvement in the camping situation.

The following day was nearly all driving - California or bust! - so there's nothing much to say except that driving that long does something funny to your verbal abilities. When trying to say 'jibberish' I said 'jibberiss' and then when laughing at me, Curt said 'examble' rather than 'example' and the whole mess led to a good few minutes of laughing at ourselves and realizing we needed to find a place to camp. We were losing light again and there was only one camping area in about a hundred mile radius, so even though the Mojave National Preserve camping spot was 20 miles out of the way, it was pretty much the only option. You know you're in the middle of nowhere, by the way, when your GPS tells you to 'turn onto Unpaved Road' for 11 miles and then 'turn off of Unpaved Road' for 9 miles. We didn't pass one car down that 20 mile stretch through the desert and we started giving each other that look that said, "Is 1/2 a tank of gas enough way out here?" But when we did arrive and got settled, we realized this place was so quiet and natural and empty, it was bliss.

We even saw wild cows! (Gotta admit I wasn't sure wild cows still existed...) There were only a couple other campers and far enough away we couldn't see or hear them, and there was absolutely no light pollution so the big open sky was filled with stars. We left the rain fly off the tent so we could stare up at them all night like cowboys on the range. No trains, highways, bars, or horses to wake us up that night - but instead, a desert wind storm. In a groggy, half asleep state of consciousness, I looked up to see the tent swaying side to side above me. Feeling like Dorothy, I waited for the tent to be picked up off the ground and fly me to another land with strange people who unexpectedly break into song and dance (LA maybe?) But I fell back asleep and awoke later to find myself in the same beautiful desert, tent intact. If you're a cowboy or cowgirl at heart and want the real experience, go to the Mojave Preserve. You won't see or hear any signs of modern life... except for the out houses... but that's okay because we weren't cowboy enough to manage without one of those anyway :)