It seems camping in California can only mean one thing: Snow.
Yeah, it was fun when it was northern California in March, but this is southern California in April. I sat there listening to radio stations from Santa Barbra while it snowed. All day, it alternated with snowing, raining, and clearing up enough to make me feel optimistic about the day. Then the cycle would start over.
I stayed two nights. I planned on more, but the second night led to the second day, more blizzard conditions. Feet cold to the touch for 24 hours straight. No fun. What is the point of staying here if it’s not fun? Plus I was out of food. My plan was to ride a motorcycle to the nearest store on Saturday, but Saturday morning there was a lot of snow. Enough that the sign said “chains required.” Of course I don’t have any. And there is a limit to how much snow I will ride a motorcycle in. That amount is “any.” That’s what vanna white is for. To get the motorcycles to the next clear patch. Call me a fair weather rider if you want.
My escape from the snow led me to the town of Seal Beach where I’ve spent s a couple of weeks puttering around, trying every restaurant and coffee shop in town. I also had a chance to see some more old friends. People from the pre-retirement days. It was great seeing them and great to be reminded once again that friendships will endure.