The Winchester Mystery Mansion in San Jose was our destination for today so we ate a quick breakfast and jumped into Charlotte for the one hour drive to San Jose from our camp spot in Morgan Hill. Traffic was pretty good all the way there as long as you were going our way. The traffic going the other way on 101 was stopped so all the rubbernecks could fully scrutinize the woe of the motorists who had wrecked while driving south.
The Garmin took us right to the attraction and we even found a parking spot in the lot. We shuffled over to the ticket office where we were relieved of $34 a head to go into the facility. We only had a 30 minute wait before our tour started so we took advantage of their restrooms during the wait. At our age, passing a working restroom is downright stupid.
Eventually, an announcement came over the public address system that our tour was starting and our height-challenged, acne-scarred tour guide would meet us at the appropriate place to start our journey. The Winchester Mansion was a continuous construction project undertaken by a widow of one off the Winchester Firearms family who believed that as long as construction continued on the house, she would continue. She was partially correct; work stopped upon her death.
The Winchester woman was not formally trained in architecture, instead getting her inspiration from psychics. The result is an enormous wood structure of around 4 stories with a whole bunch of little, tiny rooms constructed seemingly without purpose. The zitty guide indicated there are more than 200 rooms, 10,000 windows, more staircases (some leading only to the ceiling) than needed, a couple hundred skylights and 3 elevators. Since the design was psychic-induced, there is no coherent layout of rooms and getting from one room to an adjacent room might require a passage through many hallways, stairs, cubbyholes and substandard-sized doors. Very little of the mansion has finishes or wall coverings. The absolutely gorgeous front door, entry foyer and spectacular living room had only been used by 3 people before being closed off by the owner due to some psychic weirdness. Many kitchens can be found within the house, maybe because nobody could find their way to the outside and were obliged to eat or die.
The exterior of the structure is quite striking but the interior is a testament to madness. The place also has some gardens, a restaurant and a gift shop apparently specializing in Chinese goods for a high price. I spotted barbecue lighters shaped like miniature M-14 rifles, coasters with the word “Winchester” misspelled, a large selection of ugly branded clothing and pink thermal coffee cups. The mansion itself is pretty amazing but the tours could be much better. Our tour guide told us about a bunch of items in the house that, according to her, were the most interesting thing in the structure. None of the stuff she mentioned was all that interesting.
We left after a couple hours and headed to a Chinese restaurant called either “May Flower” or “Mayflower” depending on whether you were reading the exterior sign or the menu. Peggy got sesame chicken and I got cashew chicken and they were pretty good. The place was a bit pricey but there was nothing wrong with the food. Strangely, the sesame chicken was not delivered to the table until after Peggy and I had finished the soup, the combo rice and the cashew chicken. The waiter kept coming by the table saying “one minute – sesame chicken” but not actually delivering it until we got the check. Very inscrutable.
We left Mayflower or May Flower and drove over CA-17 to Santa Cruz. From Santa Cruz we picked up CA-1 to Watsonville (probably the only portion of CA-1 which is not scenic) before again picking up CA-152 back to our place at Morgan Hill TT.

Our efforts to complete the registration process for Charlotte the truck were unsuccessful yesterday because acquiring the tags before the end of February was not an option using the internet. Instead, we both went over to the tiny DMV office in Gilroy to get the tags immediately.
“Immediately” was probably not a good word to describe getting the tags in any DMV office in California. We strolled into the Gilroy DMV looking for a kiosk that allows you to pay for registration and get the tags quickly. The Gilroy office does not have such a machine. Our remaining option was to go to one of the subhumans working there and to attempt to get the tags by paying directly to a person. It was foolish to think we would be able to pay and go without delay. We are idiots.
We were given a number and told to have a seat. I inquired about the wait and was informed it was around 30 minutes. The waiting area has a myriad of chairs, most filled with morose, disappointed citizens awaiting the DMV employees who seem to wander around behind their bullet-proof barricades while avoiding sitting at their workstations. 60 minutes later, our number finally appeared on the static-filled display visible from the large waiting area. We popped right over to window #2 where a worker took our $400 in about 30 seconds and we were free. Seems strange that the first idiot we spoke to was unable to handle the intracasies of a simple arm’s-length transaction instead sending us to a second idiot who seemed just as incapable as the first.
The DMV made us wish we had a drink of booze so after departing the DMV we went home and had drinks.

The weather was nice when we woke up so we elected to go exploring. After a quick breakfast, we jumped into Charlotte and headed southwest on Watsonville Road which passes right by our camp spot at Morgan Hill TT. After a few miles, Watsonville Road, aka CA-152, heads into the redwood groves as it passes up the side of Hecker Pass before emerging on the coast side of the coastal mountains.
The road finally quits turning at the foothills and heads into the town of Watsonville. There is a gorgeous mansion here called the Tuttle House and it is right on CA-152. From Watsonville we picked up CA-1 toward Monterey passing through a place called Moss Landing where we pulled off the road right across the lagoon from the Moss Landing power plant. Wildlife must love the lagoon because we spotted a big sea otter presence, sea lions hauled out on sand bars, fat squirrels and lots of birds we have not seen before. I think the dirt road and parking lot are called Moss Landing State Beach.
We reluctantly left Moss Landing and continued south through Seaside, where old US Army Fort Ord used to be back when I was a kid wrestling mastodons. We finally pulled off CA-1 in Monterey and took the obligatory drive down Cannery Row. It looks like there are lots of upscale shops in the former cannery buildings but I didn’t see any canneries. As you drive south through Monterey, you will soon pass into the town of Pacific Grove where there is an abundance of gorgeous beachfront houses of several different architectural styles. We took too many house pictures here because we had ample supply of subjects.
We tried to turn here onto the Monterey peninsula’s famous 17 Mile Drive which passes one of the most spectacular sections of California coastline. Unfortunately, we were defeated and turned around at the entrance because there is some *!#*!!? golf event here and apparently all 17 miles need to be blocked off so portly guys wearing hideous fashions can cross the street without them or their golf bat slaves being flattened. Maybe next time.
Foiled by golf dudes, we turned north on CA-1 back to Moss Landing where we pulled off at a road to Salinas State Beach. Following the road led us to Phil’s Seafood Restaurant and Market where Peggy had a salmon sandwich and I had the snapper. It was very good. We then went north on CA-1 to Moss Landing again and pulled over for another half hour of otter watching. Most of the sea otters were peacefully sleeping but the adolescents were engaged in continuous roughhousing that sometimes ended up waking the snoozing adults as the youngsters passed right over the sleepy guys while wrestling. Their wrestling is only partially visible because some goes on underwater but the motions of their furry little bodies look like a Slinky in a sock. They make cats look positively rigid.
We regrettably departed from otter antics and got back on CA-152 and went back to Morgan Hill. It was a terrific day.
There are a few pix to see if you click here

Today we set aside to do some business regarding Charlotte, namely getting a CA smog certification and state vehicle registration. It was dull. We drove over to Gilroy (about 5 miles) and found the smog certification facility. Charlotte passed with flying colors and in about 30 minutes we were back on the road to a Home Depot store for some batteries and stainless hardware I wanted for the trailer.
We found all we wanted at the Depot and soon we were driving down the road where Peggy had spied an In-N-Out. A couple burgers and shakes later, we split and got fuel before returning to the Barbarian Invader for some napping and lounging. It was great. I like this retirement stuff; having no schedule is terrific.

We started the day with a visit to what must be the least crowded Trader Joe’s in the western hemisphere over in the town of Morgan Hill, CA. Since hardly anybody was in the store, we finished quickly and were home with our loot before 12:00 PM.
Peg and I decided that we needed to explore some so we drove back into Gilroy and picked up CA-152 eastbound. After a few miles through some very rich farmland, we arrived in San Juan Bautista where the mission scenes used in the Alfred Hitchcock classic film “Vertigo” were filmed. We paid the $4 a head admission fee and took a stroll through the mission property. There were a couple small museum sections, a refectory where the monks ate, a kitchen with a big wood hearth, some gorgeous gardens, a big old church and a small chapel, all made out of non-earthquake safe adobe. There is even a sign that says the place is made out of unreinforced mud masonry and should there be an earthquake when you are within the buildings, you should bend over and kiss your ass goodbye. We also took a short walk around the old town plaza where they have many ancient buildings, most of them closed.
After checking out the town’s main drag, we got onto CA-156 for the drive to Castroville, artichoke capital of the world. In the artichoke capital, we turned north on CA-1 for a short drive just inland from the coast until we turned back northeast on CA-152 back toward Watsonville and Gilroy. Highway 152 from Watsonville to Gilroy is a very curvy road through steep canyons lined with redwood, sycamore and oak trees and is quite spectacular. There are a few glimpses of the CA coastline north of Monterey from the highway and they are spectacular. We think we will be going down to Monterey during our stay here at Morgan Hill and we will certainly choose this road as our route.
The Morgan Hill campground seems to have some strange idiosyncrasies that we have not encountered in other TT parks. For instance, the guy camped not far from us seems to have numerous nocturnal visitors who come, stay a few minutes and leave. Could he be selling something? Also, cars with poorly attenuated exhaust noise wander around the park late at night. Perhaps the drivers are lost because they seems to arrive, make noise and then leave. Maybe nothing strange is occurring but I made my gun handy, just in case.
For a couple photos, click here

Shortly after 10:00 AM this morning we set out to move from the Vines RV Resort in Paso Robles to Morgan Hill TT near Gilroy, garlic capital of the world. It was a nice, uneventful drive up 101 through emerald green pastures and oak forests to Gilroy where we turned off on some city streets and then some rural roads and finally pulled into Morgan Hill TT. The park is located at the foot of some green, grassy hills with a waterway named Uvas Creek flowing through the campground. Paving is a bit substandard and there is evidence of some drainage issues as some of the sites were mud quagmires.
Morgan Hill TT has mostly 30 amp sites and the water works well but they have no sewer connections. Although we camp for 21 days free at most TT campgrounds, we will be obliged to pay $25 three times during our stay here so the management can come around with their honey wagon and suck that which we don’t want from our trailer. Morgan Hill also seems to have a bunch of folks who appear to be living here which seems strange since stays are limited to 21 days before elite members like us are obliged to leave the park. Fourteen days is the limit for those with regular memberships so I am having a hard time figuring how a few of the residents have large Dogpatch-like sites complete with broken down compressors, multiple bikes (some with two wheels), sheds, fenced dog compounds and small stacks of yard furniture missing legs.
We found a nice spot under some oaks and set up for a 15 day stay. We will see how this place works out for us.

Today is Super Bowl Sunday so Peggy did the laundry and I went for a propane refill and did some maintenance on the blogs, adding some photos to posts for January 12, 20, 23, 25, 26, 28 and 30 plus February 2, 4 and 6. Select the word “here” at the end of each day’s entry to see some pix associated with that day’s travels.
Nothing else happened. Peggy and I will hopefully finish our chores before the big game and the unfettered capitalism that comes with it appear on our TV.
For some reason beyond my understanding, the January 26 post seems to be mixed in w/ February’s posts. I can’t explain it. Maybe it will work itself out (unlikely) or I will received a flurry of talent and become capable of fixing this issue (even more unlikely). Don’t hold your breath.

Today we went back to doing what seems to suit us best – we went exploring in the Santa Ynez Valley. Down Paradise Road towards CA-154 we skulked along, checking out the beautiful surroundings. Soon we arrived at CA-154 and turned northwest headed past Lake Cachuma and on to the turnoff for CA-246 which heads west to Solvang.
Solvang is a community based on Danish architecture and goods, most of which were not created in Scandinavia. We went into Olsen’s Bakery first where we purchased two heart-plugs with coffee and enjoyed the guilt we got from eating them. They were very tasty. Soon thereafter, we stopped in at the Copenhagen Shop which did seem to have Danish created or designed stuff that was quite attractive and expensive. Virtually none of their goods could be utilized while traveling in a 5th wheel trailer so we left with Peggy only buying a little plastic shelf wossname for use somewhere within our mobile homestead.
We then took a leisurely stroll down Solvang’s downtown streets, gazing into the shops which had huge selections of stuff we could not use but Peg did find some birthday gift stuff which somehow ended up being purchased. We strolled a bit more before hopping back into Charlotte and turning further west on CA-246 a couple miles to Ballard Canyon Road, a squiggly, skinny road running north.
Ballard Canyon seems to be a rarely-used road passing through rolling hills with lots of wineries, livestock in green pastures, some gorgeous houses, grasslands with widely-spread oak and walnut (?) trees along with mountainous backdrops on the horizons. This is a pretty spiffy drive. At the north end of Ballard Canyon, we got back on CA-154 going southeast through Los Olivos where we found a store on the main street selling western garb that was called Jedlicka’s. I’m not sure I want to tell too many folks about this place just so they don’t come up with irritating or annoying phrases like, “Jedlicka the skillet and is still hungry” or “Jedlicka that guy’s buttock to save himself from having his lights punched out.”
From Los Olivos, we continued southeast on CA-154 back to Paradise Road where we turned off and cut the speed to about 15 mph. It is a very nice drive up the Santa Ynez River along Paradise Road. There are a few federal campgrounds along the road along with some day use areas that are quite scenic. If I lived in Santa Barbara, I would come over to the Santa Ynez Valley pretty regularly to picnic and maybe do something else like screw or smoke a joint.
A couple of pix can be seen by clicking here

Last night I didn’t sleep as well as I might have wished but during the waking periods I was ably serenaded by the vehicles passing by on US-101 which is about 50 feet away from the trailer. At dawn the skies were clear and the sunrise was nice. Peggy awoke a bit later and we sat down for our usual coffee tonsil wash and then decided to go out for breakfast.
Fortunately, there is a truck stop right across 101 from our current digs that includes a greasy spoon called Jose’s. Peggy chose Cream of Wheat for breakfast and alleged it was both creamy and wheaty. It came with some lumps but Peg said it was okay. She only needed to add butter and salt and, voila, nothing. I chose country fried steak as part of my never-ending quest to find the best chicken fried steak in the country. It isn’t at Jose’s although my food was still pretty good; ample portions, tasty hash browns but somehow they cooked half of my eggs over hard and the other half over easy. I am not sure how they accomplished this. Prices were good and we left owing less than $20.
From Jose’s we drove south on US-101 to CA-46 which goes west to Cambria, Highway 1 and Hearst Castle. CA-46 west is a very scenic road as it winds through a coastal range pass which offers a spectacular panorama of the California coastline. We continued on 46 to Highway 1 and turned north toward Big Sur and Carmel. This section of Highway 1 is very narrow and quite twisty as it hugs the edges of mountains to the east and abrupt drop-offs to the Pacific Ocean to the west. I understand the tough, rocky sections of the roadbed were cut by prisoners using hand tools. Any attempts at escape going west would consist of several steps to make it to the edge of the road followed by a breezy, rapid acceleration as the convict passed through air before being squished on the rocks way below the road.
Just north of Hearst Castle, we pulled into a gravel turnout on the west side of the road and looked out the 100 yards or so to a sand beach covered with elephant seals that were using their large flippers to throw sand onto themselves. Maybe they get sunburned easily. This is the first time I have seen elephant seals in the wild and they are impressive monsters. A couple of bulls were bashing their heads together in a friendly, 4-ton dispute on the shore. The elephant seals we saw here were larger than most of the cars we passed on the road. There were also a few sea lions hauled out on sandy sections but segregation seemed pretty stark.
As we continued north we spotted several kestrels, more elephant seals and seal lions, lots of hawks, some big magpies with flashy flying displays and thousands of ground squirrels. The views of the coastline are magnificent. We soon arrived in Gorda, where we stopped to take pictures of the town sign. Gorda was the last name of my best man and friend, Arnie, who has regrettably passed away. I miss him. We took a couple snaps to send to his widow.
We continued north through Nepenthe, an artistic enclave. Nice views but terrible building foundations. This place sort of marks the beginning of Big Sur, a grove of redwood trees covering a few thousand acres. This part of the world is pretty and maintaining the posted speed limit is hard due to the scenery. We were nice and pulled out for those behind us trying to get through the scenery as quickly as possible.
After about another hour of pulling out to enjoy the sights and to reduce tailgating, we arrived in Carmel, where, strangely, Clint Eastwood used to be mayor. I’ll bet that was weird. Folks in this municipality have very nice houses or estates or castles. In Carmel, we turned southeast on a county road called G16 for the passage back over the coast range to 101. This road is mostly two-lane but long sections are one lane only so driving is slow since the corners are very sharp and inclines steep. After passing through the town of Carmel Valley, we pulled up next to a big grassy field with a very healthy-looking bobcat calmly hunting for rodent nibbles. He was beautiful.
G16 wanders for about 40 miles through the coast range, passing over a pass at about 2200 foot elevation. The views along this road are amazing and I would love to take this rural track again, time permitting. We finally made it back to 101 where we turned south for the 70 mile drive back to Paso Robles and the road noise.
A few shots of our travels are available if you click here

We departed from Rancho Oso TT sort of reluctantly today. We had some great times exploring the Santa Barbara/Buellton/Solvang/Los Olivos/Santa Ynez Valley on this pass through the area. The recent rains made the scenery bright green except where there is exposed rock and even it had interesting strata. Santa Barbara has a fair maritime museum and the downtown architecture is gorgeous but the traffic is absolutely horrible.
Our drives in the Santa Ynez Valley yielded great panoramas and ample wildlife. Solvang is a nice, touristy little town with good bakeries and even Lompoc had its charms albeit small ones. Just the same, we loaded up our stuff and checked out of Rancho Oso TT and drove west to CA-154 where we turned north to US-101. We continued north on 101 through Pismo Beach and San Luis Obispo where there is an enormous steep climb north of town. I think we were doing about 35 mph at the top. We continued on to Paso Robles where we pulled into an RV park called “The Vines” although I couldn’t see a single vine from any side of our trailer. The park has concrete pads for parking your RV, full hookups, a hot tub, wi-fi, pools, very nice buildings and even a bar. It also has about 30 feet separating the park from 101 so highway noise is quite evident. The prices for a nightly RV space are pretty steep for a pull-thru spot in the midst of a large parking lot-like setting. The landscaping is well maintained but trees and shade are scarce. Behind the park is a long warehouse with spiffy sheet metal siding and three metal tanks in the yard.
We set up quickly and popped into the trailer for lunch. Soon we noted we could hear some noise similar to music but not really music. We couldn’t pinpoint the source of the racket so we just closed the trailer door which had been left open to take advantage of the gorgeous weather. Even with the door closed, the horrible noises were still audible. After a few minutes of annoying din from outside, I went outside to see if I could figure out where the noise was originating. Shazam! Our neighbor with an enormous mobile apartment block called a Fleetwood Revolution RV had one of the cargo doors open. That cargo door covered a very nice stereo equipment array being used to amplify some horrible country western music such that those driving by on the freeway could hate him, too. I approached the neighbor who was taking it easy in a folding chair on the far side of his machine. I was very nice despite my longing to ventilate his speakers with pistol bullets. I pledged to myself not to ridicule his music (it was difficult) while nicely asking him if he couldn’t tone it down a bit. He was quite nice about it and turned it down to where I can only hear it as low background noise instead of pervasive, mind-numbing twanging. Normally, I find some country music quite good but the selections made by my neighbor must not be the types I like.