Out in California Part III

We spent three nights camping along the Pacific Coast Highway before arriving in San Francisco. As we settle back into New York, and recall stories from the road, we'll be adding to this series of vignettes. Each night out there exposed us to new people and new environs and left us inspired to share them with you. Sometimes the tales have to do with food, sometimes they don't. Either way, expect one every Tuesday until we get to San Francisco. Here's Part I and Part II if you missed them.

It’s a strange feeling to not be around any sort of artificial light. Unlike my Brooklyn apartment, camp 229 at San Simeon State Park didn’t have a streetlight outside the window. There weren’t even any windows, lest you count the one that zips open and closed in my two-man tent. Cars didn’t honk or drive by. There was no sidewalk for people to gather on and smoke cigarettes. No bars for folks to loosen up in and carry their fleeting spirit out onto the street. Corner Store carried an entirely different meaning and the closest Chinese Takeout place was easily 30 miles away.

The only light came from the moon, fire, and the headlamp I wore around my neck and turned on occasionally to make simple tasks simpler. For a quick instance I did just that to look at the plate of food Carolyn had brought over. There was a scoop of homemade salsa on the plate next to the burritos and those were filled with beans, cheese, and rice. I ate them quickly and thought about stick-to-your-ribs food and how beans were exactly that. I was grateful to have neighbors and share in their leftovers.

The hot chocolate cooled quickly in the crisp Autumn air and soon it was just me, the fire, and a Mad River IPA. The IPA part of the equation faded quickly and I used a stick to spread the fire thin until it went out and left me with the moon. With the help of my headlamp, I traded jeans for long johns and slithered into my sleeping bag – too naïve to the wilderness to consider the fact that my sleep might very well be disturbed by creatures who know the woods better than I do.