December 24th, 2003
San Franscico, and Jesus still love me!

We roll across the Golden Gate bridge and through San Fran. The city is pastel heaven, possibly a nice touch but it is sort of bland on this overcast afternoon. Afternoon turns to evening and this city is to big to cross all at once, we look for a motel but everything is extra spendy due to the season. We get to the suburb town of Dally in the pitch black, riding is getting somewhat hairy so we settle for an exorbitantly priced motor hotel.

Christmas by the sea

Christmas morning we tell the motel owner that his prices are out to lunch and head off for breakfast. A well informed local sends us to a nice family restaurant (second choice to him after McDonalds) where we fill our tummies with pancakes and coffee. It is noon when we head out of town, up a pancake jostling hill, and out towards the sea. We ride slowly through the holliday traffic down a beautiful coastline. The road is practically cut into an Oceanside cliff. We look for an early camp spot where we can take it easy for the afternoon. We see an abandoned building on the edge of a cliff above the road and decide to camp beside it because the view is beautiful. After setting up the tent and going for a walk to explore this beautiful countryside we hunker down to cook. All of a sudden the wind hits our tent like a hammer all but flattening it against the ground. The wind doesn’t stop so we are forced to take action but first things first we need candy. After eating a good three toffees each we take down the tent and climb into the abandoned building through a long horizontal viewing slit as the half of the building that had a door has eroded away along with the rock that supported it. We sweep the broken glass out of the way and settle down for the night between four graffiti laden walls. All night long the building shakes under the force of the wind with vibrations that make me dream of murder.