Yesterday was the first true feel of Spring in NYC, although the Winter was fairly mild in comparison to Winter's past, the clear sky & 69 degrees ensured a genuine satisfaction in the people I encountered in Midtown and Park Slope. Businesses opened up there walls to expose their patrons to the streets. Bryant Park burgeoned with folks in their business attire on the noon hour. I grew anxious to get home to walk Cuba.
The deep satisfaction brought me back to the Spring of 2007. I was living in California and decided to drive to Santa Cruz with Cuba. According to mapquest, the trip would take roughly three hours through the tangled roads of agriculture and hills.California drivers are notoriously savage- having grown up in Washington where we drive the limit in the passing lane while cruising parallel to another car in the right lane...one can imagine how I might irritate the Native Californians...
With Cuba on my lap and a nervous fumbling of my printed directions- having wanted to turn back multiple times I embarked. Having spent childhood years in Monterey- and gone back to visit a few times I was somewhat familiar with the tell-tale Steinbeck landI recognized the Sapphire colored reservoirs carved into the dry hills- the dispersal of Oak trees. Fruit stands, promises of olives and pistachios. I knew where I was, but not how to get where I wanted, or if I would ever make it- but I kept on. I gave up with the directions. The roads hopelessly and gloriously tangled. I attempted to catch up on phone calls- but found it too different to monitor the AC, pug & roads...After three and a half hours I saw something.
A pang of childlike-delight- for the first time in three months- The Pacific Ocean. Having grown up on an Island, I had always been most comfortable near water. I whipped around the corners faster, it would still be an hour until I made it down this hill and close enough to get knee deep in the experience of it.
Upon arrival, I searched for a parking spot- parallel - up a hill- I fished handfuls of change from the drink holder and shimmied the coins into the meter. Cuba and I walked around the city of Santa Cruz, feeling the comforts of 30 degrees cooler ( a mere 72 degrees compared to the 102 we left in the Central Valley below the Sierra Nevada's).
After a few hours on the beach we got back in the car to drive around the town. People on bicycles with baskets of produce, students with back packs and rainbow flip flops- and then we made our way back to highway. I stopped to taste wine and buy artichokes and then headed back to meet Delane for the Madera wine trail.
The evening set out well. It cooled to the upper 80's and we drove out to Madera. This is most divine event for a wine enthusiast like myself. I paid fifteen dollars for a glass that was good at perhaps 15 or 20 wineries in the area- for two days. All of the proceeds are donated to Children's Hospital. Get buzzy and contribute to fund raising for kids! People typically rent limos and go from one vineyard to the next to meet the wine makers, taste and eat cheese, olives and fruits. It's difficult to imagine a better way to enjoy a better day in California. scape.
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