Things Start Getting Good

We wake up smelly in the Motel 6 room and decide we need breakfast. I recall a breakfast place and invite Nas, someone my ex has dated. I am feeling inappro, but the breakfast place is the best breakfast place I've ever been to, and also I like Nas. This is Nas:
See? She looks nice. We drank red beers (beer + tomato juice) and ate delicious things including Mexican corn pancakes and quinoa, seed, avocado salad.

Then, well. Tricia and I had to work out some shit so we sat in a parking lot doing that, and Tricia informed a self-identified rent-a-cop who didn't care that we were not loitering, although we were.

So by the time we bought supplies, etc., it was getting late. We sat on traffic on the 5 forever, cut over to some country roads to try to make it to the scenic 101 route, got totally lost and spent at least 40 minutes at a gas station getting directions, buying things, and checking out the townies. Here is a photo shoot from one of our detours:









The rest of our drive was very dark and curvy. We were having fun and sort of afraid but we burned Okkervil River CDs and drove slow. (Ed. "We might be pussies, but at least we're live pussies." - Sam) Eventually and against all odds, we hit the coast.

We pulled into our destination: South Beach. There was a permanent sign that said "campground full" which didn't make any sense, so I decided it was a campground for badasses and outlaws only. The very pretty park ranger (who I had to restrain Tricia from telling how pretty she was) said there was no camping space. But there was "overflow camping" which meant that we could pop up a tent on the lawn, next to the dumpster. Perfect for S & T.