I know it's been over a week since Spring Break, but I was whisked off to work in Madera for a week before I got a chance to write about my adventures that week. I guess it doesn't really matter as the subject matter isn't really time specific, so without further ado, I give you "What I Did On Spring Break"...

The week prior my 13 yr old daughter, Camilla asked if we would take her and her best friend, Alex, to the beach for a few days over the break. I discussed it with my wife, who didn't want to take the time off work , and it was decided that I would take them myself. A couple of days later, my 24 yr old daughter, Cassie, asked if she and my grandson, Aidan could go also. My ex was supposed to take Ariel herself, but apparently decided it would much better(and cheaper)if she just went with us. So it was with the whole troop in mind that resevations were made at the Santa Monica Hotel in Santa Monica, where we had decided to take in the beach, pier, Venice and that whole area.

DAY ONE

We loaded up the truck early Wednsday morning, had breakfast at Tina Marie's then hit the trail to the metropolis to the south and it's bright beaches. With I-pod earpieces hanging from everyones ears but mine and Aidans, I cruised down the freeway with my personally burned, illegally downloaded music CD's blaring my favorite classic rock and old country music. I was in my element as I love driving, family and tunes and before I knew it we were pulling off the I-10 onto the PCH in Santa Monica.

Cassie had handled the room reservations online and had showed me the photo on the Hotel's website and I was satisfied. Now, I don't know what made me think that Santa Monica was a nice place, but for some reason, I assumed that since it was at the coast, it would be so. I was wrong..dead wrong. As We headed south on Lincoln Blvd.(PCH in Santa Monica), I was wondering where the hell we were! It looked like Union Ave. here in town with shabby motels and run down businesses. After the 15 minute drive to get about ten blocks, we spotted the Santa Monica MOTEL(it had obviously changed types in the last few days)and as we pulled into it's tiny parking lot, realized that this was NOT the same place pictured in the website even though it was the right address. When I went to the window made of bulletproof glass(there was no lobby) and as I inquired if this this was where I had my reservations, I began to have reservations!

I was told that yes, this was the place. I informed the uninterested attendant that the website was quite misleading, to which he gave an unenthusiastic shrug. I didn't know what else to do as I had no clue where anything else was and the beachfront Hotels were WAY out of my price range, especially since I would be needing two rooms. I wasn't ABOUT to stay in a room with all the girls! So, I bit the bullet and paid as I watched the riff raff and permanent clientele traipse around the lot of the dingy little motel. As I was signing the bill, the clerk pointed to an elderly couple walking into a room(the guy was using a walker)and informed me that they came once a week and rented a room for two hours. It was humorous and cute, but it made me wonder about staying somewhere that did hourly rentals!

We got the keys and gingerly opened the doors to check them out. It was a pleasant surprise to see that, other than being old, they were actually not bad rooms. They seemed clean and were rather large by todays motel standards. We got the girls situated in their room and then I took care of my business. I walked out onto the street and checked out the area. It really was only a few blocks from the pier, but it was a gridlocked mess with no actual view of anything but buildings. As I stood on the street next to the window of one of the rooms I caught the unmistakable odor of some potent weed wafting from an open window. It took me back to the days when such a place was right up my alley, so I was hesitant to judge the folks staying there. As I walked back to my room through the lot, a couple of the permanent tenants said hi..asked how it was going, etc. and all seemed like friendly, smiling folks..That didn't mean they weren't going to ransack my truck for the pennies in the cupholder to get some dope money later, but it at least seeemed to ensure that I wouldn't get jumped when I left my room later for a walk or a soda.

Once we got situated and changed, we headed down to the pier and unloaded the troops and the gear necessary to see to Aidans needs for the afternoon..Ya know,,stroller, backpack, blankets, this, that and the other. Then, instead of hitting the pier or the beach, we were informed by Cassie that she was unhappy with her current bathing suit and a trip to the mall up the street would be necessary. We loaded up and headed off the pier to the huge complex. It turned out okay because I was also informed that nobody had thought to bring towels, so I was able to get away from the displeasure and irritation that would certainly have accompanied waiting around while Cassie shopped for a suit. I found what I was looking for at Macy's on the "imperfect" table and made a haul of five beach towels for nine bucks a whack..not bad for Macy's! I spent about 20 minutes in line and took my time finding the girls and when I did I was informed that there wasn't a satisfactory suit there which got me to thinking, " You have to be sh!^^ing me..All this way to go shopping"? Well, a few stores and some "Cassie" attitude later we exited the mall with a top, but no bottom..Don't ask. Only a woman could need more than one store to purcahse an entire bathing suit! As we walked back toward the pier we darted into a small "beach stuff shop" and viola`...Cassie was in business and the troop was able to begin its assault on the Southern California beaches.

I had already decided I was going to seperate myself from the pack and when we got back to the pier we made our plans for the afternoon, which brings up another funny..or something like it..story. The bridge that crosses Appian Rd. and goes onto the pier has sidewalks on each side that are very narrow and most people(the ones paying attention, anyway)walk in the direction of traffic along them as we were. We had the stroller in our little group as well as the band of sisters and me. When we got to where the sidewalk turns into the pier we stopped to make our plans and when we did, instead of just going around us(the pier is a very wide place)everyone behind us stopped too, creating a human traffic jam of ocean gawking tourists and pedestrians paying more attention to their cell phone conversations than to where they were going or what was going on around them. Kinda reminded me of the L.A. freeways!

We went back to the truck and stashed what we weren't going to need, kept what we were, I pried open my moneyclip and gave Cassie some jack to feed the girls and sent them on their way to the playgrounds, restaurants and curio shops of the Santa Monica Pier. I made my way down to the bike rental shop, grabbed a beat assed old ride and headed south on the bike path. The weather was a bit cold and cloudly but I didn't mind, not at first anyway. It was cool to cruise down the winding lane along the beach and check out all the folks riding, blading, walking and jogging, smell and feel the ocean air and get a little exercise at the same time. About 10 minutes of cruising found me at Venice Beach, where I got off the bike and pushed it down the street taking in all the sights. It was also about this time that I realized I was freezing! All I had on was a t-shirt, shorts and a hat, so I popped into one of the shirt shops and bought a Venice Beach hooded sweatshirt just hoping I wouldn't run into anyone I knew until after I had a chance to pass it off to Cassie or stash it in the motel room! I am a people watcher and there isn't a better place in the world to do that than at Venice, so with my core temparature back in the normal range, I grabbed a water and seat and just took it all in. The good, the bad and the ugly.

I spent a couple of hours just checking out shops, people and things I cruised south a bit on the bike and finally got a call from Cassie that the troop was ready to head back to the comfort, if not the security, of the room. I told them I'd be there in fifteen minutes, not realizing how far I had come or that it was uphill all the way back to Santa Monica! Hell, I had been thinking all the way down the beach that I was just in great shape, but soon realized that I had been fooled by the gravity that was now my enemy!

As I clicked the gears back down to keep my legs from cramping I plastered an idiotic smile on my face to hide the fact that I was about to burst into tears and fall panting and writhing in pain and oxygen depletion to the sidewalk. At first it wasn't all that bad. The regular riders began going around me engaged in casual conversation, then it was the tourists on rental bikes like mine dressed in checkered shorts, black socks and sandals passing me, then their kids, then rollerbladers smoking joints and laughing at something only they could fathom, and as I clicked into first gear, the homeless guys with their portable beach homes dragging behind them began grumbling about me blocking the way.

As the illusion of the rides and buildings on the pier seemd to remain the same size for indefinite periods of time, I considered letting the air out of a tire so I could just push the damn bike and be done with the act! My pride, however, took charge and I attacked the path with renewed vigor clicking into second gear at least twice in the last quarte mile! I let out a yelp of victory such as I hadn't done since my glory days a motocross racer. The feeling of hitting the big jump with a victory "whip" as I claimed a win back in the day had nothing on the elation I felt at the pier looming in front of me as I dismounted the bike at the shop, and with shaky legs, lowered the kickstand. I paid for the bike rental with that same idiotic smile and a couple of well timed yup's and even managed not to wheeze or cramp up until I was well out of earshot of the rental shack. If someone past that asked if I were OK I could just pant, "Yeah, I just jogged up from El Segundo".

As I stumbled toward the truck I saw the troop gathered around the back waiting for me with Cassie giving me the "Where the hell have you been" look, which she confirmed by saying "I thought you said fifteen minutes". No matter, I came clean with my loving family who merely laughed at me, an act to which I am no stranger. We piled in and headed back to our cozy retreat in the hood for a well deserved rest.

The evening was uneventful as we headed south on the 405 for El Segundo and somewhere we could eat without fear of being mugged or the truck being stolen. We found a Sizzler and dug in then I decided to take Sepulveda back so we could do the "Under the LAX runways" trip and hit the PCH back to Santa Monica. We arrived, no worse for the wear, and as planned, I dropped the girls off at the pier so they could do the night thing and I took Aidan with me back to the room. I fed him and he went instatly to sleep and stayed that way as i read, watched TV and whimpered about my legs until they called me at about 11pm to come get them. Back at the room I layed my wiped out body down and thus ended day one.

DAY TWO

Thursday morning found us all a bit tired from much exertion and little rest, but all in a good mood. We hit the IHOP down the street and grubbed out. As we sat there I began receiving text messages from my daughter across the table. This had only been planned as an overnight trip and Camilla was asking if we could stay another night. We texted back and forth like the goofy asses in the commercial on TV and when it finally became verbal, we had to figure out where we were going to go. I left it up to them, but just as when I ask where everyone wants to eat, I got nothing but shrugs and "I dunno" out of everyone. I knew I wasn't staying in Santa Monica another night so I suggested we head north and maybe hit Pismo and so it was decided.

Everyone wanted to go to Venice for the day and check out the stuff I had seen the day before and since it was their trip, that's what we did. Once again I detached myself from the girls, and along with Aidan, took in Venice myself, without the incumberence of a rented bicycle. I spent the afternoon being flattered by all the attention I got by having Aidan as my sidekick. He may have grabbed the attention, but I kept it! I was told many times that my son looked just like me and got to hear the compliments roll in as I told them he was my grandson. I don't care if they were just being nice, it was working for me! Mom's pushing their strollers gave me those knowing looks, which I would return without informing them that I would be, in a short time, handing him off to his Mom and avoiding the changing, cleaning, feeding and fitful sleep reserved for real parents. AHHHH..The joys of being Grampa!

I hit many of the same shops I had seen the day before but was unable to go into with the bike. I bought my grandson, Dante, who eats ketchup on everything, a shirt that said "I put ketchup on my ketchup". I saw some commotion down the way and went to investigate. There was some sort of filming going on and as I stood near the location checking things out, Dennis Rodman appeared from a car and from another it was "Mini-Me" the little person. Interesting, but I am not a man taken by celbrity, just another curiosity of Venice. I continued up the beach and saw the guy who has been there everytime I have been there. He wears white robes and has a 10 watt amp and a guitar slung around his neck as he cruises on rollerblades and plays and sings.

I ran into the girls after a bit and we went into a photo print shop where I purchased a bad assed black and white of Manhattan at night with the World Trade Center center frame. It now hangs in a place of honor above the big screen in my house. Cassie had found the same shirt I got for Dante so we took it back and she got me a really cool guitar shirt. We ganged up and headed for the truck.

After feeding Aidan we loaded up and headed for the PCH and the calmer Central California beaches. We cruised..well..actually, kind of stopped and went, toward Malibu. I made the comment that I should have my head examined for going this way because the PCH traffic at 4pm is a madhouse. I turned off on Topanga Canyon Rd and we enjoyed a relaxed drive over the coast range and hit the 101 north around Calabassas. I didn't know where we were going to stay but it was going to be in a nice area at a reputable establishment! After some relaxing 80 mph driving(in the slow lane)we exited at Camarillo and found our way to a nice, clean Motel 6 where we registered and got ready to enjoy a comfortable evening in a nice place. Everyone was bushed so we grabbed some BK burgers for dinner then I walked to the store down the street(without fear of being mugged)and got some propel and candy and hit my room with a book and the remote..Thus ended day two.

DAY THREE

The beds in the rooms in Santa Monica had beewn qeens that all the girls fit in well enough, but Motel 6 had no such amenities and doubles were the standard. I figured Ariel could spend the night in my room when she decided to go to bed, but she wanted to be with the girls so we took the bedding from the extra bed in my room and made a pallet in the floor of the other room for her which meant starting my day by bringing all the stuff back to my room before loading everything back into the truck for the drive across the street to IHOP for breakfast. I know, it sounds wasteful, but the motel sat dead in the middle of an ess curve on a 50 mph street and I wasn't chancing any or all of us being struck by commuter putting her makeup on as she hurried to work so it was decide that the truck would be sacraficed if necessary.

The breakfast went swimmingly with another patron tossing me a 20% off cupon to ease the bite of the $70 plus dollar breakfast! There ARE still kind, considerate people in the nooks and crannies of civilization! The girls had grabbed about a hundred flyers of things to do from the motel lobby and were now full of ideas about places to go...All the other way. I wasn't about to head down the coast again and told them they should have put some more thought yesterday into where they wanted to go and less into what they were going to listen to!

Also during breakfast I was informed that a trip to the outlet mall across the freeway would be necessary as Cassie seemed to be in desperate need of some DC shoes. I repeated the thoughts of two days ago at Santa Monica and headed over the 101 to the sprawling gaggle of stores. After a half an hour that seemed like a day we were back on the 101 north headed for an as yet undetermined destination. Once again the i-pods were out and I was rocking in my own little world as we passed Ventura then Santa Barbara. I, as always, looked in amazement at the offshore platforms off the coast, of which there should be more, but I digress. I tried to council my kids on the need for America's need to stop relying on foreign oil, but my words fell on i-podded ears.

As we passed Santa Maria and approached Pismo, I once again asked where we were going. To the shrugs of shoulders and some non-committal grunts, we blew by the exit at 70+mph casting furtive glances out at the waves smashing against the craggy cliffs of Shell Beach and its environs. On, on to San Luis Obispo and the turnoff to Hwy 1 as I finally made the decision that Morro Bay would be our final destination on this trip. We arrived, on Good Friday no less, to find the bayside hamlet nearly deserted, which worked well for some good parking. We did the usual tourist thing to the aquarium, had some grub at a waterfront patio cafe where we watched a huge sea lion beg food from a small trawler the whole time we ate. Cassie demanded we make a candy store run before we left and I kept Aidan as the girls made the decision on the sweets. I met a fine family from Kingsburg, Ca. as I waited outside and we had a nice talk about kids, grandkids and Fresno State, where one of their daughters will go next year as will my grandson Ryan. You meet the nicest people with a stroller!

We had finally had enough and loaded up the truck, hit a gas station and headed over Hwy 41 into Atascadero, hit 101 south to Santa Margarita and got on 58 west to head home. Now 58 is an awesome ride on a Harley, but as we were to find out soon enough, that "freedom of the open road" feeling you get on a bike just doesn't translate well to a crew cab pickup! Anyone who has ever used this road knows what I mean. Many, many curves and many negative G to G out hills make for some queasy passengers and this was no exception. By the time we hit the hills above McKittrick the moans and groans of my nauseated kids were filling the truck and I feared for the cleanliness and good smell of the truck should anyone yak before I could get stopped. With this(and pee requests)in mind, we made a stop at one of Kern Counties more interesting businesses; the Penny Bar in McKittrick. I had been there many times but not the kids and they thought it was really cool. For those who don't know about it, it is the old McKittrick Hotel and restaurant who's bar in the back is completely done in pennies. The walls, the floor, the bar, the pool table, the restrooms, everything is covered with pennies in a thick laquer finish. It is said that there are over a million pennies there.

After enough time had passed for the car-sickness to pass we jumped back on 58 and jammed the last section of our trip like barn sour old rental horses. There would be no stopping now and it seemed as if Rosedale Hwy. was longer than usual. The last turn into the driveway came just as the sun began to set on our third day and, as usual, even though the trip had been long and at some points stressful, I found my old wanderlust kicking up even as I was hauling the luggage and souviners into the house. Traveling is one of my very favorite things to do and I rarely get to do any of it with my kids and have never done it as the only parent. It was fun and, in general, relaxing and I couldn't have thought of a better way to spend my Spring Break!