Biking through California

August 2 - 8 2014

Yes, it has been a very long time since I have taken the time to update this blog.  This is mostly due to our penchant for SOSDD - Same old Stuff, Different day.  We've been to Flying Flags, Pismo, back to Flying Flags, back to Pismo . . . well, you get the idea.  There simply was nothing new and exciting to report . . . until now.  Let's rewind back to May of this year.  Many of you know that we enjoy riding motorcycles, including doing a fair amount of riding in honor of our military with the Patriot Guard Riders (you can look them up on the internet if you're interested in knowing more about us).  For the last few years we've been riding a Honda VT1100C - a cruiser style motorcycle with a windscreen and saddle bags - what in common parlance is known as a 'bagger'.  It was a great bike and we took a few extended trips on it, Big Bear, Camp Pendleton, Julian, Ventura.  However that bike, as fun as it might be, was never meant for truly long range riding.  A hundred miles was about the limit of my endurance before my cheeks completely fell asleep.  Believe me, when your cheeks fall asleep, it's really hard to enunciate . . . but I digress.

A number of years ago, while heading up Hwy 395 to go camping, I stopped at a rest stop known as Coso Oso junction.  While there, a couple of Honda Goldwings came rolling up.  It was a beautiful day and being the lifelong motorcycle nut that I am, it struck me what a WONDERFUL way to see the Sierras!  I was hooked from that moment on and, as part of my bucket list, I determined that one day that would be me.  Of course, heading up that way on our VT1100C wouldn't have worked very well . . . we might have made it as far as Adelanto or so before our cheeks went to sleep.  So at the end of last May, we purchased a 2006 Honda Goldwing.  41,000 miles, equipped with CB radio, AM-FM-AUX, cruise control (yes, real cruise NOT a throttle lock), GPS system, anti-lock brakes, heated seats, heated hand grips, intercom system and 1800 CCs of pure power.  With King and Queen seats (heated as previously mentioned), this is the bike that can take us where we want to go.  We are even considering riding the Washington DC next year . . . we'll see about that.  Anyhow, here's the new ride:

The title of this post is "Biking through California", so let's get to the good part, shall we?  While on the road for seven days, we traveled California and Nevada, covering a total of 1,257 miles.  The longest leg of our journey was 320 miles, traveled on Wednesday the 6th.  Most days were 200 miles or so (or much less) so as to keep us from being too burned out with the ride.  We stayed away from the mega hiways as much as possible and logged only 150 or so miles total on interstates.  The rest were 1 or 2 lane roads, much of it through some of the most beautiful scenery in this great country - from the desert to the rugged mountains - the Sierra to the west and the White Mountains to the east, through the lush valleys, to the wooded slopes of Tahoe, over the rolling hills of the western San Joaquin, and down along the rugged, gorgeous coastline of northern central California.

But of course, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, or in our case by starting the engine.  We took off from our home in Whittier, CA. on Saturday the 2nd of August and headed towards San Bernardino, over the Cajon Pass and into the high desert.  Although anticipating some warm weather through this portion of the trip, neither of us was really prepared for the 97 degree heat that we encountered.  It's a good thing that our bike has air conditioning, otherwise we would have melte . . . . oh yeah, that's right.  No AC . . . just a lot of wind.  Did I mention that it was 97 degrees?  So guess what temperature the wind was?  Yep.  97 degrees.  By the time we arrived a Pearsonville and stopped for gas and lunch, we were pretty much feeling like the Wild Hogs when they arrived at the diner after having run out of gas in the middle of the desert.  Yes . . . you in the back . . . I can see you waving your hand.  You have a question?  Oh . . . you don't understand the Wild Hogs reference?  You haven't seen the movie??  Shame on you!  Go to RedBox and rent it now!  We'll wait for you to catch up.

Okay, all caught up now?  Then allow me to proceed.  It was HOT!  We arrived in Lone Pine in the early afternoon (a very HOT afternoon, in case you weren't paying attention) and checked into the Lone Pine Budget Inn.  It was an okay place I guess, plus we were able to meet up with a couple of other guys that were on a long distance bike trip.  We swapped stories for a while, each of us complaining that it was HOT.  By the way . . there is NOTHING in Lone Pine worth seeing other than the Film Museum on the south end of town.  More about that later.  Even though there is NO REASON to visit Lone Pine other than that museum, we still saw the highest motel prices of anywhere we visited.  People in that town have to be smokin' some whacky tabakey (or they found the peote) to charge the prices they do.

By the way, here's a couple of boring pictures of the road on the way to Lone Pine:

 

After resting for a little while and getting settled in our room, we decided to head down to the film museum.  It's proper name is The Beverly and Jim Rogers Lone Pine Film History Museum.  Whew, that's a mouthful!  Before I go any further I must say that this place is well worth the visit.  The charge to wander through their somewhat modest (although growing) display is well worth it and you will be doing yourself a favor to avail yourself of their wonderful hospitality.  In the early days of film, beginning with the silent era, many films were shot in the Alabama Hills just above Lone Pine.  The location is ideal for a number of reasons, one of which is the unique formations of strata to be found in the vicinity.  Another very important reason, especially for the early days of film, is that it is relatively local to Hollyweird.  Early western film stars such as Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, etc., made many of their films here.  The museum strives to document this history with memoribilia from that bygone era.  Again, well worth the visit.  On the way out of the parking lot, I ran over a piece of gravel or something.  You know that 'pop' sound when you run over a little rock?  More on that later.

Dinner was a nice Mexican feast . . . well, it was Mexican anyway . . . sort of.  Okay, okay . . . it was overpriced, under flavored and the waitress was missing all of her front teeth.  Or is that teef?  But it filled the hole.  The iced tea was very good though and the lady wifout teef kept my glass full the whole time.  Sorry, I didn't take a picture of the restaurant and don't recall the name.  I just didn't see the need . . .

Did I mention that Saturday was unbearably hot?  We wanted to get an early start on Sunday morning so that we could beat the heat, so as I am accustomed, we were up at the crack of . . . . RAIN!  OH NO!!  Rain!!  Now, that is an eventuality that we didn't plan for.  After consulting the internet, our smart phones and the television (weather channel), we decided that sitting around hoping that the rain would quit was pretty much hopeless.  Side note:  it just now occurs to me that the Goldwing has a weather channel that gives local conditions . . . and we never remembered to use it.  So anyhow, we saddled up in the driving rain and headed north.  Hmmm . . . . what's that little wobble in the front end?  I don't remember ever feeling that on this bike before.  It smoothes out around 40-45, so it must not be much.  Press on . . . through the rain . . . finally running out of it about the time we pass Big Pine, CA, a small town between Lone Pine and Bishop.  I have many fond memories of camping and fishing with my folks up the canyon above Big Pine . . . but that's another story and is probably interesting only to me.

Finally dry going through Bishop, we decided to stop for breakfast.  Jack's Restaurant in Bishop on Main street towards the north end of town is a good place to stop if you're ever in the area.

Moving along, we ran up 395, stopping for gas in Mammoth.  That darned wobble in the front end has me a little worried.  I stuck the bike up on the center stand and spun the front wheel, just to make sure we weren't losing a bearing or a front tire.  Nothing wrong that I can see . . .

On up the hill to Lee Vining.  What a wonderful spot.  Soon after Angel and I got married, we spent a long weekend at Murphy's Motel in Lee Vining.  Although she had been to the Sierra's when she was younger, I have taken great pride in expanding those horizons for her, together sharing adventures in places old and new.  I never tire of seeing the look on her face when she is introduced to a beauty that she had not previously been exposed to.  Priceless . . . .

Lee Vining overlooks Mono Lake (not Moan-O, it's pronounced Mon-O).  There is quite a history to the lake which I will not go into here.  However, suffice to say that the greed of little men in Los Angeles has threatened the beauty of this place.  THAT should tell you all you need to know concerning how I feel about Mulholland.  (look it up!)

Leaving Lee Vining, we ran into a traffic jam.  Traffic was dead stopped, a very unusual thing while traveling through this part of the state.  After crawling along for a half hour (we had been informed via CB radio that there was a traffic collision), we came upon the source of the back up.  An Audi, driven by a tourist from San Francisco had turned left in front of a Harley Davidson, resulting in a horrific crash, the aftermath of which we viewed as we slowly made our way past the carnage.  I wondered if the crash were fatal, the motorcycle having been demolished, but didn't find out until days later that the rider, a 59 year old man from Nevada had indeed succumbed to his injuries.  It was a very sobering moment, seeing his shoes and personal effects littering the hiway, especially since his mode of transportation, not to mention the device of his demise, we shared in common.  Saying a silent prayer for our own safety (but for the grace of God, there go I), we pressed forward.

We arrived in Bridgeport, CA before noon, stopping to get a quick cuppa and walk around for a while.  Of course, momma found an antique store.  And of course, she found a trinket to buy.  :-)  Here's momma taking a rest beside the highway.  She was cold, wet and miserable, not even bothering to get off of our iron horse:

The next stop was Genoa, NV.  After a nice ride along the Walker River, we arrived in time for a late lunch at this very historic settlement.  Although I was a little disappointed with the "modern" look of the town, there were a couple of old buildings that have survived for more than 150 years.  One is the Genoa Saloon, which has stood since before the American civil war.  Here's the saloon:

 

Yes, that's me in the second picture.  And no, I'm not fat.  I'm just big bone-ded.  We had a delightful lunch at a little place across the street, adding to my already expanded girth.  While in Genoa, we spotted this very unusual three wheeler.  While not a fan of three wheelers (nothin' wrong with 'em, just not my bag), the odd look of this caught my eye.  Anyone know anything about this machine?

 

Time to saddle up and head for our destination, Virginia City, which will be our home for the next couple of days.  I have been to Virginia City before, but the last time was probably at least 30 years ago, so needless to say, I didn't remember much.  Angel had never been, so this would be a nice little exploration for both of us.  Our lodging was with the Virgina City Motel, which turned out to be a wonderfully quaint little 'motor inn' about a half mile from the center of the main part of town.  I must warn one and all, if you ever plan to visit this little burg, take food with you to microwave in your room . . . . or as an alternative, take PLENTY of cash.  This place, although a lot of fun to visit, is the BIGGEST tourist rip-off I think I have ever encountered . . . and remember, this is coming from a couple who honeymooned in Tombstone, AZ, Sedona and the Grand Canyon.  REALLY?  You want HOW MUCH for that!!??  Yes, I know that I squeek when I walk.  I realize that cheapskate is a term normally reserved for people must less thrifty than I . . . regardless, lunch consisting of one order of chili fries and one sandwich totals nearly 40 bucks?  I'm thinking the proprietors of these joints should be wearing a gun and a mask.  At the very LEAST, they owed me a kiss . . .

Rants aside, Virginia City was a fun place to visit.  We went to the Red Dog for dinner (pizza and salad at OUTRAGEOUS prices) and were treated to a very nice three piece jazz band.  We visited the Old Washoe (look it up on the I-net) for a "ghost" tour (yeah, right), a couple of museums and the cemetery.  If you've read our other blogs, you know that for us, no trip to an old town is complete without going to visit the cemetery.  If you're paying attention, it tells the story of the town and sparks a sense of mystery concerning those who have lived and died long before we were born.  Here's a bunch of pics, in no particular order:

 

From the photos above, you can probably deduce that it was again raining.    We didn't melt however, so we were tip top and ready to hit the road again on Wednesday morning.  Today would be the most ambitious of our rides, traveling roughly 320 miles from Virginia City to Monterey, CA.  First our route - hiway 50 through Tahoe (oh, what a beautiful ride) to Placerville, then south on 49 through Sutter City (remember Sutter from Sutter's Mill fame?  The mill is a ways north of this town) then onto 88 west, down I-99 then west again through Pecheco pass.

The rain had let off during the night, so we decided we'd better saddle up and get while the gettin' was good, leaving Virginia City behind fairly early in the morning.  Dang . . . there's that wobble again . . . what the heck is that?  The front tire looks fine, the wheel weights are still there, the bearings seem smooth . . .

After gassing up in Carson City, we headed up towards Tahoe.  It was very unfortunate that the day was so gloomy, considering the beauty of this place.  We did however, still get to experience the absolute wonder of this place.  If there is a more gorgeous place on God's green earth, I've certainly never seen it.  Think about this:  who's the gardener?  Who maintains all of this beauty?  I'll give you a hint . . . it ain't us.  We don't have the power to maintain it.  Here's a few pics, but take note that we weren't here to take pictures.  We were here to marvel in the glory of this place:

 

We stopped for a quick breakfast at Carrow's (Steph should be proud of us :-) and then plowed along, moving down out of the mountains and into the foothills.  First stop, Placerville.  We've spent some time here before, so there weren't any big surprises.  Love, love, LOVE the historic gold rush towns along hiway 49.  If you've never had the opportunity to visit, do yourself a favor, especially if you enjoy and appreciate that history of settling in California, along with the gold rush.  Here's some pics of this quaint, historic little town:

The picture above reminds me that I did not tell you about the wild horses we saw in Virginia City.  Oh well, that segment has passed, so you'll have to do without :-)  Next stop, Monterey.  What is that wobble in the front end!!??

Monterey is a toney town along the California coast and is home to the famous Cannery Row, used in the writings of John Steinbeck (a fascinating figure and well worth studying, along with reading his works).  Angel and I spent some time here last year in conjunction with our trip to San Francisco.  We were here for only one night, so there's not much to tell.  We did however, find a wonderful place on the wharf for dinner:

 

So, that front end was still wobbling on the way to Monterey.  We took a little rest at a place named Casa de Fruita (Casa de Fruita gives me Casa de Gasa), having a bit of water to slake our thirst and walking around to relieve some of the stiffness.  So, I decide to lean down and look at the rear tire.  It seemed a little soft to me on the way over the pass, so I thought I should have a look see.  The right side of the tire was showing a very strange wear pattern, lots of cupping and appearing to be nearly worn through to the cord.  Uh oh . . . that's not good . . . I decided to go ahead and ride on into Monterey.  When we arrived, I took a little harder look at it.  Sure enough, we were starting to show cord.  Our hotel was next to a gas station, so I pulled over there to check the tire pressure.  25 lbs.  No big deal?  Yes it was!  That tire is supposed to run at 41 psi!  I aired the tire up, but the damage was done.  We were now showing cord.  It turns out that we had a run flat tire and we were "running flat".  I whipped out the tablet, went on line and found a motorcycle shop that was just a couple of miles from us.  The next morning, we arrived there about the time they were opening.  I was worried that they might not have a tire for our beast of a motorcycle, but sure enough, they had one in stock.  And just to keep up the spirit of our vacation, they charged us an arm and a leg!  Nice guys . . . but they did get us back on the road in less than an hour, so I guess I shouldn't complain.  Oh, and that wobble?  It was gone.  We had been running on a fun flat tire from Lone Pine, to Genoa, to Virginia City, to Monterey.  The Lord was surely looking out for us . . .

Next, we're off to Morro Bay.  I absolutely love this little area and would live here in a second, given the right economic conditions.  The town is just big enough that not everybody would know your business, but just small enough that you know where everything of importance is.  Nice . . . the Embarcadero is the main attraction in this town, a series of shops and restaurants along the water front, many of which offer outdoor dining.  We chose a place named Blue Sky Bistro for dinner.  We liked it so well that we had breakfast there as well!

On Thursday morning, we were off again, our destination Solvang, CA.  Solvang is a Dutch town, full of history and certainly, the colorful air of foreign lands.  We spend many of our Thanksgivings just 4 or 5 miles away in the little town of Buellton, home of Flying Flags RV park, one of our favorite haunts when RVing.  Our lodging for the night was the King Frederick Hotel, right on Copenhagen street, which you can probably guess, is the heart of the tourist area.  This little area is home to businesses such as "As Seen on TV", leather shops, trinket places, native American outlets and a number of fun places to eat.  Hmmm . . . . it is almost beginning to sound to me as though we were on a food vacation . . . but I guess it's just that the food, at least in many cases, was the highlight of the trip :-)  Here's a few pics of Solvang including our dining pleasure for the evening:

 

So there you have it.  I could go on and on about the finer points of the trip, but suffice to say that we had a blast.  We saw old placed from a new perspective, put a bunch of miles on our bike - one of the things that we enjoy most - spent time together, just the two of us, had wonderful dinners (and breakfasts) together and generally just had a good time.  I hope you enjoyed at least a part of this blog.  We'll chat with you next time!

 

Tombstone . . . again - 9/8 to 9/15/2012

Yes, we went to Tombstone again.  Why you ask?  Because it's there?  But, a lot of things are "there" and we haven't gone "there" . . . yet.  Give us time and we might make it to wherever you think "there" should be :-)  Whenever I tell people that we are headed to Arizona, I always get suggestions of the things that we MUST SEE while in that great state.  I'm sure their suggestions would be wonderful, but we really have not exhausted all of the wonderful things to see in and around Tombstone.  For instance, on this trip we didn't find time to hike into Contention City, although we drove within about 4 miles of this historic town site.  Remember the movie 3:10 to Yuma?  Contention is the town where Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) was initially captured.  Contention was a small town that sprung up in order to support the mining industry in Tombstone. Located about 15 miles from the mines, the town sat along the San Pedro river, using it's flowing water as the means of powering stamp mills that reduced the silver ore from the mines into powder for further processing (with cyanide and mercury of all things).  We also ran out of time to visit the world's largest rose bush.  We've seen it before, but it was quite a while back.  Maybe next trip, huh?

Although we didn't have time to do everything we wanted, here are some of the exciting things that we DID do!  First off, we arrived on Saturday evening about 5:00.  Just in time to set up camp, take a walk around town and fix a tasty dinner.  On this trip we chose to stay at the Wells Fargo RV park, which is located between Fremont street and historic Allen Street, right across 3rd street from the OK Corral.  If you're not familiar with the local history, the OK Corral is the site of the famous shoot out between Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Morgan Earp, Virgil Earp and the "Cowboys", a lawless faction that lived in the area surrounding Tombstone.  The shootout actually took place in a vacant lot behind the OK Corral (which was located on Allen street), with the Earp group standing in the middle of Fremont street while the Cowboys stood in the lot.  How much more history would buffs like us need in order to want to spend entire vacations here exploring?  More on all of that later.  Here's our cozy little nest away from home:

 You can see from the ground around the trailer that it had been raining a bit.  We caught the tail end of the monsoon season in southern Arizona.  We got a nice mix of beautiful thunder storms, spattering rain and torrential downpours.  NICE!  Everything was very green as a result of the monsoon.  Since we usually visit Tombstone in June (our anniversary month), this was a nice change for us.  Next year we may make the October festivities that commemorate the OK Corral shoot out.  Here's the OK Corral over my right shoulder:

We were able to get a few new activities in on this trip.  Of course, we took our obligatory trip to Bisbee and ate at "our" restaurant - Santiago's.  We shared a plate of green corn tamales with lots of chips and hot sauce.  Then we wandered over the the cemetery.  Yes, we visit cemeteries.  Why?  Uh . . . because it's also "there"?  Actually, if you want to get a feel for the history of a town, go to the cemetery.  It will show you the names and dates of real people who lived there, sometimes revealing information such as what their occupation was, whether they were well off, poor or somewhere in between.  While there, Sandy spotted what she assumed was an eagle that was part of someone's headstone.  Although we were not quick enough to get a picture, the "eagle" turn out to be a hawk - and yes, it was very real.  There were actually two of them.  HUGE, wonderful looking birds.

We also took a trip out to see the grave of Johnny Ringo.  History buffs will remember that Ringo was a part of the "Cowboy" faction.  An outlaw and gunman, Ringo lost his own life to a bullet on July 13, 1882 at the young age of 32.  Contrary to the depiction in the movie "Tombstone", Ringo was NOT killed by Doc Holliday.  Holliday was in Colorado at the time of Ringo's death.  A couple of theories exist concerning the death of Ringo, but the one that I personally subscribe to is that Ringo was dry gulched by some of his "friends".  I suspect that they were put up to it by someone who hired them to kill Ringo.  You can find a number of theories if you search around.  One thing is for sure in my opinion - Ringo did NOT commit suicide.  None of the forensic evidence supports this theory.  We'll never know what happened for sure, but what we do know is A) - Ringo is dead.  B) - He died of a gunshot wound to the head.  C) - A shot was heard by someone who lived in the area on July 13 and Ringo's body was found a couple of days later and D) - Ringo is buried on the spot where he died.  Here's shot of his grave:

Here's a shot of his headstone, such as it is:

Here's a gratuitous shot of Sandy next to said headstone:

Ringo's body was found propped up in the crotch of an oak tree.  His gun was hanging from the finger of one of his dead hands.  The story is that his gun had one empty chamber, but the coroner's jury that assembled on the spot failed to record whether the chamber was completely empty or if it contained an empty cartridge.  This is important because the jury concluded that this was a suicide.  Ringo was shot in the temple with the bullet exiting the back of his head.  Without being too descriptive, how could he have held his gun at that angle, if indeed he shot himself?  I don't buy it.  What I do buy however, is that this is the actual oak tree where Ringo's body was found, propped in the crotch shown:

Here's my wonderful companion with the same pose:

There is a memorial with a plaque on the site:

And Sandy with the same memorial - notice the oak tree in the background:

The drive from Tombstone to Ringo's grave is about 55 or 60 miles.  It is through a beautiful area, the road taking us past the historic town of Gleeson and down into Turkey Creek Canyon.  We found the coordinates for Ringo's grave on a couple of websites and punched the numbers into our GPS.  An old timer named Bruce (who worked at the museum in Tombstone) told us that Ringo's grave was on private property and that we needed to ask permission to visit.  Although the GPS coordinates took us to the grave site, we didn't know for sure who's property it sat on.  So as a helpful hint to any who read this blog and may take the trip, look for this guy's house along Turkey Creek Canyon road:

Just hallew the house and the old guy will come out.  He'll know what you want before you even ask and will be kind enough to grant access and show you where to go.  Just up the road (the one in the background on the above photo - the one with our trusty Dodge) is a chain link gate:

Through the gate and past the brush you will come across a sign:

The sign implies that visitors are welcome and that they are.  It is still a neighborly thing to do to talk to the land owner and get his blessing.  One thing about out back Arizonans - they are very neighborly.  On the trail to the grave, watch out for rattlesnakes.  Although we have yet to run across one while walking, we did see one that had been run over by a car on the way up to this location.  It pays to be vigilant of the dangers in this area.  Just ask Ringo  "Poor soul . . . he was just too high strung".  "You're no daisy at all!"  

I forgot to mention this . . . while driving up Turkey Creek canyon, we saw a large critter running alongside the road.  At first, I thought it was a black calf.  Then I thought it appeared to be a large, furry dog.  It turned out to be a bear and he or she was on a mission to get away from us AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!  We were able to watch it run up into a rock outcropping and disappear.

Speaking of critters, the locusts were THICK on this trip.  According to the locals, they come about about this time of year like clockwork and then disappear just as suddenly.  We were lucky enough to have invaded Tombstone at the same time that it was invaded by the locusts.  They didn't bother me much, but Sandy was definitely a bit freaked out by them.  In the mornings when we would take our walk/jog, she would stay in the middle of the road so that any murderous, blood thirsty, zombie locust with a lust for human blood would get me first.  As a result, she very nearly stepped on this little guy:

For the uninitiated, this is a tarantula.  In this part of the world, these boogers are a bit smaller than some species, however they are still menacing looking.  So anyway, after Sandy got done screaming and jumping around (I'm kidding - sort of), I stomped my foot a couple of times in order to get him to sit still long enough for a photo and then we left him to go on his merry way.  After all, somebody has to clean up all of those blood thirsty locusts. :-)

There's a new restaurant in town that we highly recommend.  It's on 10th street on the corner of Allen.  The name is The Depot and they have a pretty good steak, probably the best there is in town.  Honestly, saying that it is the best in town isn't saying all that much, but it was pretty good and well worth the price in our not-so-humble opinions.  It doesn't compare to a steak sizzled up by yours truly on our own grill, but few steaks do.  Hey!  I'm not boasting . . . it's just the way it is.

While I'm on the subject of food, I will say that we ate at the Longhorn for a lunch meal.  So-so food as always, but it's in the heart of the historic district.  We keep going back there, probably hoping that it will get better.  The same could be said for the OK Cafe.  It's a quaint little spot and it looks like it should be really good.  But alas . . . it's simply not to be, no matter how much we wish it.

We also took a trip to Benson, which is at the intersection of Interstate 10 and state highway 80.  Benson is also an historic town, although it's history is buried in modernism (unlike Tombstone).  There's not a lot to see, but there is a Walmart (where we spent a night while on the road to San Antonio a couple of years ago) and a HUGE True Value hardware store where we bought an Ocotillo to plant at home.  What really made it worth the trip though was a conversation that I had with a docent at the visitor center.  He was a wealth of information about the town, but his best tip was a website:  http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/  Seriously, check it out.

A few years ago, a fellow came to Tombstone seeking his fortune.  He purchased the old Helldorado town set and started doing gunfights.  He also started a trolley tour service.  Although both of these are very much tourist trap things to do, we were kind of sucked in by this guy's personality.  He turned out to be a big Hollywood stuntman named Lee McKechnie.  Besides putting on a good gunfight show, he is also a very funny fellow.  I highly recommend his trolley tour as well as his show.

Also starting a few years ago, another fellow, a miner, came to Tombstone seeking a fortune of another kind.  In this case, he felt that if he could open up one of the old mines, he could possibly make his fortune by taking tourist down into the mine.  So with that thought in mind, he went to work clearing out the old Good Enough mine.  The entire town of Tombstone is built on the top of mines that were dug in the 1880's.  Miles upon miles of tunnels were blasted and dug from the limestone under the town and the surrounding hills.  Silver was the main product of these mines and they continued to operate until the veins led to elevations that were well below the water table.  Note that the water table is about 500' below the surface here and with the aid of pumps, mining continued down to the 700' level.  At some point, the giant pumps that kept the mines from flooding caught fire and were destroyed.  The pumps were never replaced (because of cost I suppose) and the mines flooded back up to the 500' level.  There is untold billions of dollars worth of silver down there, but it is inaccessible because of the water.  Our tour guide was a crusty old miner who was very informative.  Here's our guide:

These photos are quite blurry and a bit dark.  The lighting in the mine is poor and all that I was able to get were some cell phone photos.  Sorry 'bout that.  Here's a few shots inside the mine:

The last picture is a shot of a silver dollar that was minted from silver taken from the Tombstone mines back in the late 1800's.  Oh, and the ugly rocks that the dollar is sitting on?  Silver ore.  It doesn't look like much does it?  If I were a miner, I'd be looking for pretty rocks, not this ugly stuff!  This tour convinced me that a guy wandering around out in the desert with a donkey, a shovel and a pickax would really need to know what he was looking for.  Otherwise, he might come home with nothing but pretty rocks.

No trip to Tombstone is complete without a trip to the Bird Cage Theater.  The Birdcage was opened in 1881 and operated until 1889.  During these just-less-than eight years, there were 26 murders.  Town Marshall Fred White was murdered just outside of where it's historic doors would soon stand.  His successor?  Virgil Earp. A number of "painted ladies" plied their trade within these adobe walls, including Josephine Sarah Marcus, AKA Josie Earp, Wyatt's third and final wife.  If you ever visit Tombstone, it is well worth your time and money to tour this historic landmark.  However, beware.  The holes in the ceiling are NOT bullet holes, regardless of what the barker out front may tell you.  They are actually bolt holes from a trapeze that was erected for one of the last shows that took place here.  There are some bullet holes here and there though, so if you lust for historic bullet holes, you'll find them here.  By the way, they encourage you to take photos while you are there.  Take as many as you'd like.  Just don't show them to anyone.

 I suppose that I could probably get in trouble for publishing a photo of a sign INSIDE the Birdcage telling me not to publish photos taken inside the Birdcage.  Oh well . . . sue me, huh?  But in the spirit of cooperation, I will not publish any other photos.  Email me if you'd like to see them :-)

There are a number of historic items inside the Birdcage, displayed museum style.  One of the prized items is a Faro table where Doc Holliday plied his gambling trade.  The actual table and chair are still in place in roughly the same location where Doc 'worked'.  Don't be fooled by all of the items though.  I don't know how many museums we've been in that claimed to have Bat Masterson's personal cane/walking stick.  Humph.

Wyatt Earp came to town and bought into the gambling concession at a place named the Oriental Saloon.  The place now operates as a clothing and jewelry store, a tourist type of place.  This is Sandy's favorite shopping place.  Their clothing is nice (she looks SO CUTE in a couple of her selections) and the prices are reasonable, unlike most of the stores.  There is much history in and around the building, but I'll let you discover that on your own.  Across 5th street is the Crystal Palace, another famous saloon and gambling den from days of yore.  It was in the street between these two establishments where Virgil Earp was shotgunned, losing the use of one of his arms.  The shot was fired from the balcony of a building across the street where the Longhorn Restaurant is now located.  Although the original building burned down many years ago, a like building was built around 1950.  At night, you can stand on the corner and imagine Virgil walking across the dimly lit intersection, a shotgun blast ringing out, the impact, people running - either away from the danger, or towards the commotion, trying to find out what happened.  Anyhow, the Crystal Palace is now a restaurant, serving up a decent meal for an outrageous price.  However, the pool table (coin operated) is only 50 cents.

Lastly, I will mention that we visited Kartchner's Cavern just to the north of Sierra Vista, about a 25 mile drive from Tombstone.  For anyone who has toured a cavern before, this one is fairly small scale. Still, it is an amazing thing to see and comes highly recommended by us, your humble recommenders :-)

I suppose I could continue to regale the reader with tales of our adventures in southern Arizona, but this entry is getting pretty long and for that reason, you have arrived at these last few lines having merely skimmed  through the last half anyway.  But one last story, okay?  The weekend before leaving on the trip, our grand baby, Dani who is 9 years old, came and spent the weekend with us.  While there, I donned a cowboy hat and proceeded to tell her that I couldn't wait to go to Arizona so that I could wear my cowboy hat.  I told her that it is illegal to wear a cowboy hat in California.  Of course, she believed me and I had to reverse course and tell her the truth.  On the other hand, if it ain't illegal in California, it sure seems like it.

So long till next time!!

Father's Day in Pismo

As has become our tradition since 2010, we spent our third consecutive father's day in Pismo Beach.  If you have followed this blog, you are aware that I once lived in Grover Beach right next door to Pismo.  Coming here brings back a lot of memories and let's face it, this is just a FUN, FUN, FUN place to be!  There is a HUGE classic car show here every father's day weekend and really becomes one of the highlights of the weekend.  Arroyo Grande just across the 101, has wonderful antique shopping (I guess I really am that gay - j/k :-) and the ocean is an ever present distraction during good weather.  This year we once again stayed at Pismo Sands RV park in Oceano.  This weekend turned out to be one of the most beautiful (weather wise) that we have spent here.  Here's a Saturday picture of the pier in Pismo.  Notice the beautiful blue sky.

This is the second year that we have taken our motorcycle along.  Once we parked the truck and unloaded the bike, we pretty much rode everyplace we went.  Shopping, antiquing (NO, I'm NOT gay), out to eat, etc.  We took a bit of a ride on Sunday up to SLO to check out some interesting places.  SLO is only about 15 miles north of Pismo and is a wonderful destination in itself.  Anyhow, here's our motorcycle carrier setup.

Pismo is one of those spots where we can get back to the RV early for some wonderful relaxation (I'm resisting using the word 'fabulous').  Sandy and I are sticklers for eating only healthy foods and both of us enjoy a nice home cooked meal consisting of wholesome, non processed foods.  Red meat?  YOU BET!  Here's Saturday night's supper.  New York steak, bell peppers and home grown jalapenos.  Mmmm, Mmmm!

Of course, many will remember that this is also our anniversary weekend.  Our new favorite anniversary restaurant is Steamers on Price street in Pismo.  Always the food is great - almost as good as the beautiful lady that escorts me.

Wonderful trips must eventually come to an end, so pack up we must and hit the road to home.  Until next time, keep the shiny side up and the fire kindled.