Today, the day before our 4th of July holiday (Independence Day), I taught my last class of summer school. I will not teach again until August 19, 11:00 am. It was therefore a melancholy day. I don’t do well without structure, and I have lots to get done. My woe was in anticipation of this fact. I get down when I come short of goals. And even though I haven’t really fallen short yet this summer, I know that there’s still time to waste it all away.
I took a detour on the way home from work and drove up to Peter’s Canyon just to check it out. Wasn’t sure if I could find the place -- it’s been that long. I ended up exactly where I always entered the canyon park. I didn’t hike. I merely drove about. Also didn’t see any evidence of the burn from a few years back. But I did see lots of dry brown grass. It’s summertime in Southern California, especially in the mountains and foothills.
With all my detours on the last day of summer school, I finally arrived back home at about 1:30 pm. Pretty quickly, I changed into shorts, a tie-die shirt and some flip flops (aghast!) and headed out the door. I had a vague plan of catching the Dana Point Trolley into San Clemente to find out where that would lead. It would have been wise to look at a map or anything related to this trip. But nah, where then would be the adventure?
I should have never left the house in flip-flops. I really do know better than that. But the whole trip was on a whim. I envisioned myself on a lackadaisical trip from trolley to trolley along the coast. I didn’t need the flipping security of real shoes. My first mishap on this adventure was that I could not find a nearby southbound trolley stop. I wrongly assumed (because I was either remembering other years or the bus route) that there was a stop just a couple blocks from my front door. So, feeling completely inadequate and flimsy in my flip flops I walked until I found a stop going in the right direction -- it was just outside the harbor, a little more than a half mile from my home. But in my waiting, I realized by studying the map at the stop that I could backtrack up the hill and meet a trolley (because I hate waiting, I’d rather walk to another stop to decrease waiting time). According to my husband who was using a trolley tracking app and texting me, I had time to make it to that stop about a quarter mile away. Thing is, I didn’t count on how difficult it would be to march up that hill in flip-flops. And sure enough, half way up, I saw the trolley turn the corner, stop at MY stop and then leave, travelling back down the hill toward the harbor and past me! Understandbly, the thought of missing this trolley and waiting another twenty minutes prompted me to haul ass down Golden Lantern in flip flops to catch that trolley. I took off running at my top speed, awkward flimsy flip flops and all. Turns out I can still run when I need to, even in flip-flops. And can you believe it? I caught the dang trolley. In the knick of time! It made a left turn right in front of me, and I had to jay-walk (I mean jay-run) across the crosswalk to make it to the trolley in time.
Dana Point Trolley:
I will never ever leave the house again wearing flip-flops. These are not shoes to be worn about town -- these are shower shoes to wear at the gym, or beach shoes to shuffle across the sand when it is burning hot. In fact, these are not shoes at all. What was I thinking? I’m lucky I’m alive after sprinting down Golden Lantern in flip flops!
As they say, “All’s well that ends well.” I caught that trolley, and it was lovely with a cool ocean breeze blowing through my hair as we made our way down the coast. I was hoping to catch the San Clemente trolley (which Doh! I didn’t know at the time that the San Clemente trolley does not begin running for another five days!) With San Clemente in mind, I rode he Dana Point trolley to its southernmost stop without realizing that I was at the turnaround point. Before I knew it, I was heading north, back into downtown Dana Point. It is wise to read a map before heading off, whether it’s by foot or mass transit. But then again, as I mentioned above, where is the adventure in that?
Once I realized that I had missed the Dana Point / San Clemente transfer spot, I disembarked on Paciffic Coast Highway in hopes of crossing to catch another southbound trolley to head back to the San Clemente transfer stop (remember, I didn’t realize that the San Clemente system wasn’t even running). Upon stepping off I saw a southbound trolley idling across the highway. Today didn’t seem like a good day to die so I didn’t dare try and run across all five lanes of traffic. But the longer that I hesitated, the more I felt that I had a chance to make it across in time via the pedestrian bridge. And so, I ran off to the bridge and bolted up three flights of stairs, my flip flops threatening to fly off with each step. I passed a man with a dog along the way and he reminded me that there was an elevator. But I wasn’t going to wait for no stinking elevator. I passed the man with his dog again as I ran across the bridge (for they had taken the elevator). I could see down onto the highway that the trolley was still idling in the bus lane. I had no time to waste. And so, on the other side of the bridge, I hit the elevator button. And as I waited for the slowest elevator in the world, the man and his dog passed me again. As he headed down the stairs he said, “Let’s see who gets there first.”
I don’t know why I hate waiting. Gosh, I actually contemplated jaywalking (rather jayrunning in flip flops!) across the highway to avoid the possibility of having to wait for another trolley. And now here I was standing in front of an elevator because I thought I’d get to the street faster. But the more seconds that passed, the more I thought that I should have just run down the 3 flights of steps, I’d be there by now. When the slowest elevator in the world finally did arrive it took another thirty seconds (at least!) to open its doors. The wonderment of this elevator's immensely sluggish speed does not stop here. The ride down was ridiculous -- I mean, what was powering this elevator? Double A batteries!?!!. Okay then, it was time for me to accept that I was going to miss my ride. When the elevator doors finally inched open (really, it was unbelievably slow) I bolted out (in flip flops again saying, I don't think so!) and sprinted to the trolley which to my surprise was still idling in the bus lane. I didn’t see the man and his dog. He probably made it down first and was long gone.
Capistrano Beach:
There I was again on another lovely joy ride (except I wasn’t driving) southbound along the coast with the ocean breeze blowing in my hair. I was the only person on this trolley, which is a little awkward for me, but I’m old enough that awkward doesn’t phase me much anymore. I can do awkward. The trolley driver told me that she didn’t think that the San Clemente trolleys were running yet. What? July 3, the day before the 4th of July along the California Riveria, trolley not running? I looked it up on my phone, and sure enough, the San Clemente trolley doesn’t start running until July 8.
And so, I disembarked at Capistrano Beach. I took a stroll along Capistrano Beach and headed down through Doheny Beach. I crossed the highway at a caged pedestrian bridge and hopped on the next northbound trolley which took me more into Capistrano Beach and up to the high school. I stayed on that northbound trolley for several more stops until disembarking at the edge of the city at The Ritz Carlton Hotel.
I took a seat on the Laguna Beach trolley around 3:30pm. I had not eaten all day, which is normal. I usually eat my first meal nowadays at about 4:00. I was beginning to think about purchasing lunch. I was also beginning to think that it would have been a good idea to bring my shawl (I had thought about it, but then hesitated and dropped the idea back at home). The ride was chilly up the coast, and the sights were delightful. I have driven these streets countless times. But I’m focused when I drive them. I don’t really get a chance to look at the store fronts, architecture, interesting themes and overall people bustling about from all parts of the world.
I rode the trolley for a few miles before disembarking in South Laguna where I purchased a diet coke from a drugstore. And then I walked another quarter mile up Pacific Coast Highway to Ruby's Diner for lunch. I had a sandwich called BLT&A, which is bacon, lettuce, tomato and avocado, except, I ordered mine minus the tomato. I didn't spend much time there, plus I wanted to venture forward quickly becasue time was passing Outside of Ruby’s I couldn’t stand the trolley wait, so I began marching up the highway onward to more northern trolley stops. I walked a mile or more along Pacific Coast Highway until I finally caught a trolley. Somewhere in there, I hit a patch of slippery mud and nearly killed myself on the sidewalk somewhere down in Laguna Beach. Don't know how I managed to stay upright.
The turnaround point of my last day of summer school adventure in flip flops was at the bus depot in Laguna Canyon. Being that another trolley didn't come around and I had no idea when one might, I headed into Laguna Beach by foot and south on PCH enjoying all of the sights and sounds of Main Beach. And then I saw the trolley coming up behind me, then pass me, and I once again was off running in my flip flops to catch it, which I did. I rode the coast several miles into Dana Point with the lovely wind once again blowing in my hair. I caught the Dana Point Trolley back at the Ritz and rode that into The Lantern Village where I disembarked and walked home.
And there you have it, an ordinary adventure in the ordinary life and day of a fifty something year old who suffers from wanderlust.
No comments:
Post a Comment