Hey, Michael . . .
Yeah, missed a lotta people. You, Bryce, Russ.
But not Brian . . . not Patrick.
I took Wednesday and Thursday off, to try to get well enough to drive up Saturday. Hot weather, spicy food, Airborne, large quantities of sleep seem to’ve helped. Half-day @work Friday (‘still weak ---- cough, cough’), then off to Irvine Station to take the AMTRAK out to Van Nuys, caught a lift from John --- tracks pass right behind his shop! ---- talked projects/people/life/etc. Marco and Tony were gone to RRIV, left 1059 there --- looked marvelous, even her tires!
Left, topped-off, then took off --- car feels a lot nicer, now, better-settled below 3500, same big/silly punch above --- got to Simi ‘round 6:30. Small-talk, dinner --- walked the dog? --- kids had company, burned their popcorn, some dishes, then? . . .
Bed by 9.
Sleep after 10. (I peeked.)
12:30 . . . beep-beep-beep-beep-beep . . . .
Dawn of the dead. Really. They just don’t make showers hot enough . . . shampoo, wash, dry, comb, dress --- ‘these feel like mine’ --- rumble/stumble downstairs.
Check text messages. ‘Brian --- 8:00? --- Hyatt Monterey’. Pull up Mapquest --- Hyatt/etc --- jot down address, cross streets, phone#, sketch a map, then copy Russ’ and Jerry’s numbers --- Embassy, Del Rey/etc --- grab the lunch/goodies that my So-Much-More-than-a-Girlfriend had packed, then . . .
. . . garage.
Door trigger --- still love that pop --- get in.
Pivot, swing my feet over the door seal, still new/soft/almost sticky --- don’ wanna pull it out being in a hurry.
Keys waiting.
Feet in ---- brake + clutch --- gloves, shift to neutral, shake.
Key the pump. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
One-thousand-ONE. Lights --- 1st click, needles shiver . . .
One-thousand-TWO. Extinguisher, listen, smell . . .
One-thousand-THREE. Goodies, phone, camera, miscellaneous cockpit crap . . .
One-thousand-FOUR. Extinguisher, listen, smell . . . fuel gurgle, up, behind . . .
One-thousand-FIVE ---- Start.
Ruhr-ruhr-ruhr-woomp! ---- quick push of the throttle . . . not enough/missed it. Key off/on --- don’ wanna flood it. Again. Few more turns, soft rumble . . . engine slowly woofs+catches, hand-throttle, ~1500, select, let off the brakes --- 1st hand then foot, lick the clutch, ease her back.
1:30
Trying to fog up as I left. Good/bad. Good = no cops. Bad = could be tule fog out in The San Joaquin Valley. 'D be like driving through meringue. Gulp. Well --- nothing I can do about it now. Giddy-up.
118 to The Five North, fog puffs, road’s dry, light traffic.
Five clear. From Six-Flags to the Grapevine, fast sailing. Saw a Longhood, too. Silver Targa?, no rocker deco --- driver’s head-light out. Coming down into the SJ Valley, looked like road’d been prepped for some re-surfacing, super-rough. Car rumbled/squirmed so much that I got off at the bottom to double-check my tires . . . nothing. And no fog.
Back on. Rolling along, thought about my intended route --- 152 West --- realized that would get me to The 101 at Gilroy . . . . 50 miles North of where I needed to be. Mid-course correction. Hwy 198?, through Coalinga, would put me on at King City. Better.
One little sign, barely marked.
Never been on the 198. First part was smooth, straight, small towns, some lights, limit 35 MPH. Out past Coalinga? Elevations --- up to 17% (!) --- turns, funky cambers, no run-offs, then, after a while . . . fresh asphalt --- inky, no lines, no dots, no marker posts, no shoulder, nothing . . . . then a truck turns up. Cab lights. With a trailer. Hauling a$$. Now, me, too.
Tanked once, just after I checked my tires. Enough gas at King City --- still 1/2 tank! --- to make it to Monterey, so . . .
Hit Salinas about 6. From the Wow-Wow-Wow coming up through the tunnel, I figured something cable-driven was about to let go --- turned-out to be the speedo, but that gauge light was already gone --- didn’t miss it. (But the odo ---) Coming up Monterey Road, got pretty foggy. Hit the wipers a coupla times, cruised into town.
6:30.
Since I was early (really) I decided to make sure I knew where to find Brian at. Seen a map, had an address . . . but that part of Monterey is a little quirky to navigate. Took a few laps, but I found the Hyatt, did a circuit of the lot --- big place --- didn’t see Patrick, texted --- ‘I’m here’ --- then . . . headed on down to the Embassy Hotel, over on Del Rey.
Tickets? Didn’t have any. A few days earlier, Jerry Haussler had very generously offered/provided a Vendor Pass, left at Embassy ‘Will Call,’ hence. Meanwhile, Brian had pinged me Wednesday that he had both Admission and Corral passes available --- ‘Uh ---- YEAH!!’ --- so, one way or t’other . . . I was good. Extra souvenirs, maybe.
So, in-and-out at Embassy, tanked-up at Seaside, thinking photo-ops, then Brian texted back --- ‘Hyatt . . . ~8.’
Got there, watched some cars rolling out, and Brian strolls up (never seen/met) . . . . talked, then met, Scott H., Dave C., and another Guy. And a Real German Guy. (Got his card some place . . . ) Trooped over to Laguna Seca --- back way --- parked up on the South East lot. See everything from there . . . lots o’ cars.
R
1) Irvine Station
2) Back from service/baby-sitting @John's . . . beauty parlor (?)
3) Prepped. Even joined AAA . . .
4) Electric 'S'
5) Patrick, 1st-thing . . . w/7Rs
And PS . . .
Michael! Dude! Butt-shots o' My Girl? . . . That is just wrong. (Especially when yours are better than mine!)![]()