Tripping South

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One of my avid Followers commented to a previous post not long ago, asking whether I saw any good in this world, and whether I ever had a hero. So, I kept a sharp eye during our road trip south and deeper into this Land of Honalee.

One hundred miles, then two, along the coast, taking my time, all the time, but staying on time. No Jackie Paper, or the Magic Puff could I find. Winding roads, but without toads. Gorgeous ocean views, lots of elk and deer, and a few smaller critters of unknown species that didn't quite make it across the road.

Then turned east and through the Redwood Forrest. How enchanting it was. 12 foot wide at the base, and hundreds of feet tall. The trunk, encroaching to within a few inches of the edge of the 2-lane road, bore signs of several car accidents. I wondered how many travellers would have to die before they will remove the tree, but the ecologists disagree.

Then, into the majestic wine country of the Napa Valley. Drink to that. Raise the price of grapes so that no one can afford to buy a home because the vineyards are worth their weight in gold. Now three hundred, then four hundred miles, and into the Interstate 5 corridor.

Stretching yet another 300 miles south from the Sacramento delta, to the base of the Tehachapi mountains, where once great farms sprawled as far as the eyes could see. Given way to oil derricks now rusting after having gone dry, because the ecologist hammered out the dangers of nuclear reactors. That's OK, we'll just buy our oil from our friends in Iran. But our friends in Iran changed once the reactors were dismantled. Oil is now 20 times more expensive than it was when I attended high school.

The fields in the valley are all by dry now as the waters have been diverted to quench the thirst of Southern California. Why not? We can buy all our produce from South America anyway. What a concept! Maybe all the illegal migrant farm workers will re-migrate home to their own fields.

Nearly gone are the huge cattle ranches. Driven away by ecologists demanding that cows be happy and have shade before they are sent to slaughter for food. Driven away to other states and countries while driving the price of burgers up. No mas Dollar Menu.

Now, up and over. The final 150 and to the Valley. We arrived safely, but unable to chant the tunes of "This Land is My Land. This Land is Your Land. From the ........"

And, I still can't find that darn dragon.
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