Day 13: Thursday, August 6—

This day like so many before was warm and sunny. We headed toward Santa Barbara, stopping first at an ostrich ranch prosaically called Ostrichland USA. The place sold ostrich feathers, ostrich eggs, ostrich jerky, ostrich etc. And there were plenty of real live ostriches on hand as well. Travis wanted the feathers in the worst way, but they looked scrawny and were overpriced, so I promised him one of the ones I had at home[TE1] .

Our next stop a few miles up the road was the town of Solvang, known for its quaint shops and strong Danish tradition. We dined al fresco at Paula’s Pancake House and then walked around town. Sharon had been here when she was a kid, and perhaps for that reason as well as others, she was much more impressed with the place than I. One of those other reasons may well have been a Christmas shop called Jule Hus, where she browsed for what seemed like forever.

Then we hit Santa Barbara. We drove up and down the ocean highway looking for the rest area/parking lot where Jeff and I had stayed back in 1979 but couldn’t find the place. The town had grown over the past 19 years—nothing like Las Vegas had, but still it struck me as busier and less charming. Aborting the search, we found an inviting beach, paid the parking fee, and hit the water. The boys had a blast playing in the sand and chasing waves. I would have enjoyed it more had it been a little warmer, which is a most unusual thing to say about any part of this trip. We snapped some pictures, hit the showers, and then went into town.

As I said, the town was no longer as it had been on my last visit, so I couldn’t begin to track down the bar where in 1979 I walked in, ordered a beer, and witnessed the whole place erupt in a massive brawl. Given that description, the joint sounds like one to avoid anyway, although it was the impetus for my short story “One Night in Branigan’s Bar.” We drove around and then walked around looking for a place to have lunch. We chose the Calypso Bar & Grill, which had outdoor tables, Sierra Nevada beer on tap, and as I recall pretty good food, although I don’t remember what we had. It was a pleasant midday meal.

We got lost on our way out of town but eventually righted our course, obviously, and drove through downtown Los Angeles via U.S Route 101 at rush hour. Rush hour traffic in this city is legendary, and today was no exception. I sure as heck didn’t want to deal with it, but despite being tired, I dealt with it. As the sun began to set behind us, so too did LA, which was, are far as we were concerned at the time, just what the song said it was— “a great, big freeway.”

We took Interstate 10 east across southern California. This stretch was mostly forgettable—there was seemingly an endless string of towns. We may have stopped in one to test Eric’s blood sugar, which may have been in a hotel parking lot off the expressway, and we may not have cared for the town and its inhabitants. But it was a blur. And we probably stopped for a bit to eat, although I can’t remember where, perhaps near San Bernardino, but there’s no record of it.

The time had come to decide where to spend the night. The itinerary called for us to stay in the town of Joshua Tree. But there was no indication we’d find lodging there, so we decided instead to go to the famed resort town of Palm Springs. Palm Springs rose out of the surrounding desert in a neon blaze, yet we found it nearly deserted. (We’d find out why tomorrow.) We drove up and down the main drag looking for suitable lodging. Unlike our usual predicament of past “inn quests,” where accommodations were nowhere to be had, the problem here was an overabundance of inexpensive, quality hotels with vacancies. Our good fortune was no doubt due to this being the off-season. We decided upon the Hampton Inn. After unloading the car, we spent the remainder of the evening in the hotel room. Outside it was hot as hell. Inside we enjoyed our last night on the road in the nicest hotel room of the entire trip.

[TE1] Ostrich meat was a hot commodity in the 1990s; reports claimed its consumption would soar, so lots of ostrich farms sprouted. Demand, however, never materialized, so lots of those farms folded. Ostrichland USA, however, remains in business as of this date. (Marc Evans, 10/18/21)