West to San Diego

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Going it alone: the road to San Diego

My route from Joshua Tree to San Diego was all planned out, I was to take the scenic route, as advised by a Ranger, and was really looking forward to the journey, it encompassed a Desert Park, a few vineyards, a couple of quaint towns and sounded great.

I started off touring the part of Joshua Tree park I hadn’t covered the day before – the route from Twenty-Nine Palms to Cottonwood Springs. I hadn’t planned to spend much time there, having spent all day there on the Saturday, but once you start getting out the car and wandering around, you just want to see more. The southern part of the park was quite different from the Mojave Desert section – and not just by the absence of Joshua Trees. Ursula and I had remarked often that all the parks are from each other, and Joshua Tree is actually very different from itself. As it encompasses two deserts, I suppose it is hardly surprising that the two areas differ. The northern part is in a less dry climate, therefore is greener. The lower part of the park is rockier, and nearer to the Sierra Nevada.

The ranger had advised a specific route, and insisted I didn’t take Intersate 10 however as I left the park it was very tempting to just get on the Interstate until the junction for Route 86, but I wanted the scenic route, so I kept to the ranger’s route. There was one tiny bit the ranger hadn’t mentioned – that when I got to Mecca, and needed Route 86, I also needed to find a way round the massive lake between me and the Sierra Nevada. America, so good at National Parks, is pants at road signsI wondered if the ranger had tried this route since the lake appeared – but then I read that the lake appeared in 1905, and although he was grey-haired I doubted he was that old.

I went south, that was wrong. I went north – that was also wrong. I tried to go West, it was very full of water. Eventually I decided to head for the I10 and take that road, wishing I had when I left Joshua Tree. It lead me to Route 86. On Route 86 I actually drove through Mecca – nearly 2 hours after I had arrived there – and lo and behold, the link road was 195. A few choice words sprung to mind, it had been a tiny sign, no indication of where it lead, and seemed a nondescript country road. Signs, America, signs would be good, we aren’t all local!

Back on track I tried to press on, but I was driving through the Sierra Nevada, and it winds up through the mountain and then down. I decided to forego the Anza Borrego, I really wanted to get to the small town of Julian and visit the vineyards. The route skirted round the Anza Borrego anyway (a desert state park) it looked little different from the surrounding countryside. However the winding roads and my detour looking for the right road had cost me dearly, I rolled into Julian just as Julian was shutting up shop for the day. I got to see that it was a very quaint town, and I got to see all the closed signs going up (it is possible that it is me, but we won’t dwell on that).

I followed the winding road down to the coast in the rain and the fog and ended up in La Jolla. La Jolla is a northern suburb of San Diego, very chic, very picturesque and very out of my price range, however I could afford a mosey round. I drove on to Pacific Beach and booked into the Best Western. This turned out to be a fitting finish to my day, the Worst Western had no internet (when I complained I was told that it doesn’t work in all rooms) the air conditioning packed up, and I eventually called someone at 2 a.m., the security guard got it going, but it would only cool the room down to 75 degrees and the bath hadn’t been cleaned. I had booked for two nights, but checked out the next morning. It hadn’t been the greatest day, but I still got to drive through beautiful scenery and was still on holiday.

The manager was actually very nice in the end, once I got my own way, and did recommend a place on the beach for breakfast. It was a great little place, lovely breakfasts, you could sit overlooking the beach and right by Crystal Pier which is actually a hotel – some two dozen small chalets line the pier. I was also much entertained by the couple sitting behind me. They were on a lunch date, I was having a very late breakfast, and from the conversation, they had met on the internet. I wasn’t really listening until he mentioned that a few days after his grandmother had died, her poodle had puppies – and one of these pups was actually his grandmother who was somehow transformed in it. I was transfixed. I waited for his date to make her excuses and leave, or choke with laughter, but no – she seemed to be interested and was encouraging him. He kept this dog for 15 years, it was like a child, he was devoted to it – but in the end a coyote got it. Not that devoted then, really! I couldn’t decided whether this anecdote improved the date or not, but it wasn’t my call, and it had greatly amused me. I wished I had paid them more attention when I came in, but would not turn round to gawk.

After my breakfast I wandered into the Crystal Pier Hotel office and got myself a room for the night. All the chalets were rented out, but I had a room overlooking the sea, with my own patio. The sun was out, the rain, fog and the hassle of the day before were forgotten. I was back in a little apartment by the sea, and felt like it was Christmas.

I drove out to La Jolla and pottered about the cove, La Jolla is a really pretty little place, rock pools, lovely cove, lots of little bars and restaurants. I then carried on up the coast and spent the afternoon at Torrey Pines state park, which overlooks the coves and has stunning views and a few trails for me to wander. Pelicans flew up and down along the coast all day, and I spent ages trying to get decent pictures of them (MarkandKarryn inform me they are pelicans, I thought it was a heron, it had wings and flew).

At about 6 p.m. I toddled off back down the hill to check-in to my beautiful seaside room. It was a lovely evening and the sun was just going down, so I drank a glass of red or two whilst watching it set, then wandered down the pier to get a few photos of the surfers in the sunset surf, before heading off to a local brew pub for dinner. God Bless America!

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