Gimme Some West Coast Lovin'

            I think I remember time. Does it determine the hours and the days, whether they’re passing or stalling?

            Let me tell you something about time: It doesn’t exist on the road. Has it been over six weeks already? No, really, has it? We’re already in Montana, the place we thought would be the most desolate, snow-slammed nowhere on the USA map, heading east on I-90. EAST!  That’s homeward bound. And excuse me, but isn’t I-90 the Mass Pike? Just like I-80, which only theoretically ever existed for me west of Ohio, the Mass Pike always stopped at Albany. But here we are, in Missoula, Montana, trucking along I-90 East toward the small states. And while we’ve still got 2,500 miles to go, it feels like we’re closing in on home.

            Not only do the weeks and the miles fly by, but so do the hours. Accomplishing pretty much anything has been next to impossible. How to type words into a computer when there are Cascade Mountains or Pacific cliffs or unknown lakes to look at? How to write postcards when in Spokane, Washington looking at a friend from college whose face has been missing from my life for four years?

            Despite the intense lack of down time and productivity, I’ve been having pretty much the best time of my life. Everywhere we go, a whirlwind of fun just funnels up from the ground and sucks us in. And somewhere in that twister, a whole bunch of really great food is always swirling around. Here’s a sampler of some of my favorites:

Fish tacos (San Diego, CA): Crispy fried fish on the inside, a side of ceviche on the outside…who can argue with that? Especially when the seafood gets wheelbarrowed over to the joint on ice, fresh from the boat! Couple this with some full-submersion swimming in the 58 degree Pacific Ocean (no wet suit) and one of the best standup comedy shows I’ve ever seen (for FREE!), and you’ve got my two days of summertime paradise in February. Just add in a cheeseburger and a milkshake from In ‘N Out if you think you can handle the bliss.

A hamburger with mac and cheese on top, and a bite of Andy’s bacon cheeseburger sandwiched between two glazed donuts (Santa Cruz, CA): Both a whole lot better than they sound, and I don’t think that’s because we’d already been wine and beer tasting for 2 hours. Although…the wine and beer tasting was certainly sensational. We sampled wine made from grapes grown in the Santa Cruz mountains, just after experiencing The Mystery Spot, where a 17 degree lean into thin air is just as simple as standing straight up! (No, really, our 17 degree leans had nothing to do with the alcohol. I swear.)

Double dinner of sausage and crispy tacos (San Francisco, CA): Not the best taco I’ve had on this trip (not by a long shot), but the circumstances make it worth a mention. After a wild boar apple sausage with spicy chili on top (now THAT was a superstar meal), I headed out with my companions, Jen Esq. and Jill. We met up with a few former Peace Corps Volunteers and old college friends and San Francisco’s so-called Boston College bar, where several of us found ourselves a bit hungry again. Jen pointed to dingy sign across the street, a square of wood and chipped paint matted to the side of a brick building. “Tacos!” she read. So we went. This was no taco joint. It was a posh, bumpin’ dance club with buckets of Dos Equis and $2 Taco Tuesdays. So we ate, and we danced, and we screamed above the bass in the secret taco bar off Polk Street.

Jalapeno and Cheese Fritos (somewhere on I-5): Thank you, Jill, for buying these. Or no thank you. But I ate almost the whole bag anyway.

Vegan multigrain bread and wine, wine, wine! (Bainbridge Island, Washington): Obviously, the vegan multigrain bread was just a snack between wine tastings. But it was pretty solid for being eggless and dairy-free. And, at Seattle’s famous Pike’s Place Market (before we boarded the ferry to the wine tastings), I also sampled chocolate pasta (true story) and the acclaimed pepper jelly (which can cause tummy pain if it’s the first thing you eat in the morning, I learned). I talked myself out of buying either of them, though. Which, of course, I now find regrettable.

There are many more stellar meals and moments I could mention, but it would take far too long! After all, we've been on the road for six weeks. And for two weeks, we've had a true taste of the West Coast. Believe me when I say that the West Coast is beautifully delicious.  And sunny, to boot!

And now, for some buffalo burgers in Missoula. Oh, the hips and thighs!