The Start of An Accentuated Journey…#70 (the 50’s)

A captivating Highway #1  presentation

     Preparation was cardinal, a possible thousand mile round trip on a 5 hp.  Cushman Road King motor scooter,  to stipulate a journey of this magnitude Gary and Dale Spady would be diligent in selecting provision.   Passage to an army surplus depository established some unique procurements not on their agenda.   Gary regarded it as pragmatic, it might appear extrinsic, but a  flight helmet liner  was in order.  It was olive drab in color, nylon cloth like material, tight-fitting and to accompany this world war II relic,  both boys acquiring amber tinted goggles.  The google  being a necessity, shielding their eyes from the insect domain of the open road,  Gary feeling especially venerable as he would be sitting on two sleeping bags, raised up  behind Dale on the rear jump seat.  Also on order was a saddle bag with several compartments to accommodate changes of clothing and rations for meals if necessary to prepare.  A discussion concerning the extend of travel that could be accomplished in a day was soon dismissed as impractical.  This journey would be to experience vibrancy and freedom from the constrictions of responsiblity including mileage goals.  Gary placing a well received telephone call to his  Cousin Bud residing tn Canoga Park outside of Los Angeles, arrangements being made for the two to stay with him and his family.
 

WW2 liner and goggles a necessity

WWII  liner and goggles a necessity

    The Cushman Road King was saddled and ready as was the two adventurers in the earlier morning fog shrouded atmosphere encasing the bay-area.  Gary and Dale mounting their oracle of transportation venturing to the Nimitz Freeway entrance on 98th Ave.   The entrance sign notification was significant  “entrance for vehicles less than 5 hp. Not Permitted”.   Heading south on the freeway, the scooter traversing along at 40 mph when Dale began slowing to a halt at the side of the road.  Gary question him if there was a problem,  his reason was a resounding  “I’m cold”.   Gary understood, realizing that they both hadn’t considered the wind chill and failed to dress appropriately.  The jackets were non insulated windbreakers and likewise the leather gloves they both adorned were also not insulated, but more for show.   Gary could ascertain from Dale’s voice that he was hesitant to continue, especially at that speed on the freeway,  Gary rationalizing,  it was the damp fog that was the culprit.   Once again they continued their journey stopping once more before reaching the junction of the Bayshore freeway and the San Jose City limits.  On West San Carlos St, they found a twenty-four hour bowling alley deciding to stop and kill some time and discuss the situation and regenerate some discernible heat.   Relaxing and warming the adventure was still somewhat questionable but a decision was delivered from above as they walked out of the of the bowling alley, discovering a bright sunlight morning.  

Highway #17 over the Santa Cruz Mountains

Highway #17 over the Santa Cruz Mountains

      The truckers were amiable, Gary acknowledging their patience, the Cushman with two dauntless adventurist aboard was in the slow lane, lugging up highway #17 over the Santa Cruz Mountains, having fallen in line with the tractor and trailer burden laden eighteen wheelers.   Second gear and 20 mph was the most speed attainable by the  loaded scooter, but once cresting the grade, it was fifty plus going downhill.  Santa Cruz, the boardwalk and the beach was tempting,  but their limited finances of $75 between them , the wind-blown duo forgoing temptation deciding to continue, soon finding themselves on Highway 1, the coast highway, eager for a Monterey lunch.

The marina at Monerey

The marina at Monerey

The entrance to 17 Mile Drive

The entrance to 17 Mile Drive

       The marina at Monterey spiked Gary’s interest,  the slips filled with sailing crafts of every imaginable size.   The seagoing vessels nestled side by side,  dancing every so slow with the gentle rise and fall of the ocean basin.  The invigorating fragrance captured by the shoreward breeze was  beckoning its invitation, luring those susceptible to its enticements.   Something about the sea made pause,  but this was nor the time,  the bounds completed,  finding Gary joining Dale the two once more posted on the motorized transport.   The sign read, 17 mile Drive and Gary immediately reflected, Pebble Beach, the Cadillac of all golf courses.   He noticed that Dale’s interest hadn’t peak,  but Dale wasn’t a duffer, with a little insistence, Dale relented and they sot this path to the legendary course.  Gary was disappointed,  the course as seen from the road was like most links, uninspiring until you tee off and experience the scenic wonders that most non-players are unaware of.   The manicure foliage,  the waterfalls and fish laden ponds, the scenic wonders embedded in a  golf course, the game not always about competing and placement of a ball,  but the substance  of a fresh breeze, the quiet sculptured solitude and the aura of enlightened  serenity.  It was noticeably apparently the golf course was out-of-bounds but the haven of  wonders on the rest of  17 mile drive  were more than enriching, and with the afternoon  waning it was  back to the highway 1,  Carmel a very short distance beckoning..

 

A town of quaint villiage shops

Carmel a town of quaint village shops

The white sand beach at  Carmel

The white sand beach at
Carmel

      Carmel was picturesque, it reminded the youth of an alpine village bundled amongst a tree laden enclosure.   What astonished Gary was the ambulation down the main street,  seizing on the quaintness, then up a gentle slope, suddenly before you as if on a Cinerama Theatre screen appears an expanse of sparkling white sand and crisp tops of breaking water ebbing on to the beach.   Gary having frequented the beach at San Francisco and walked along its sandy mire, but never having experience the pristine  polish of Carmel’s consort.   The evening was approaching  finding the teens once more on the two lane path of highway 1, but a new companion joining their  company,  the ever-present Pacific  keeping watch over their progress.

South of Carmel

South of Carmel

The first nights nocturnal view

The first nights nocturnal view

     On the left side ,  just ahead,  a turn out area that rose on a gentle slope.   Gary speculating,  it having been used as a scenic rest,  one could gaze  across and below at a small white sand cove with a protrusion of  wave encrusted rocks  silhouetted against  the glowing sunset ebbing in the west.   It was time to lodge for the night.  Disembarking the Cushman, the two removed their sleeping expertise and making  station for the night.   An open pit was present,  some previous spectator having succumbed to building a warming fire,  the invitation accepted.   The  evening drew nigh, with the sound of cresting seas breaking and rushing to meet the accepting strands of firma,  a nocturnal repose was greeted, a welcomed rest.

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6 Responses to “The Start of An Accentuated Journey…#70 (the 50’s)”

  1. Donte Boyle Says:

    Hey, nice post, really well written. You should write more about this.

    • gwillson7 Says:

      Thank you for your interest. Sharing my true-life episodes presents avaricous pleasure, giving me the opporturnity to recall and document them. I attempt a chronological semblance of events, maybe someday to return and explicate some episodes. Thank you……………………Gary

  2. gwillson7 Says:

    Hello…..In short, its my understanding the Word Press .Com is its own Web Hosting enitity. Enjoy my true-life chronicles on Inquisitive Quest. …………..Gary

  3. Shannon Krupa Says:

    I like your post. Your blog is fantastic.

  4. Vonnie Swiler Says:

    I like your post. Your blog is fantastic.

    • gwillson7 Says:

      Appreciate your comment. Sharing my true-life episodes presents avaricous pleasure. I have many years of foremost events to explore and hope you continue to enjoy my decries on Inquisitive Quest. ……….Gary

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