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| September 13, 2008 Monterey Ride Report Sweet as Chocolate…A Forrest Gump Kind of Day By: Elizabeth Fajardo September 13, 2008, ride to Monterey. Eleven of us began the trip from the San Mateo Grill: Walter, Aris, Ed, Ken, Dan, Jeff, Pete, Ray, Jerry, Rick and me. Rick led the ride down south along 280 following an ocean blue SUV whose backseat passenger was a tiny white terrier pup. The puppy kept nuzzling its bitty head out for a peek. The animal made me warm inside, being the air was bitter cold at the start, in spite of thermals and the rest. Ahead, the sky looked clear—a sure sign of promising weather. Once we reached the halfway point the cool breeze gave way to warm sunlight. We passed Buena Vista Drive on the right, and the smell of fresh strawberries permeated the atmosphere. Dozen of fruit pickers gathered in the fields. Seemingly out of place was a dark wooden house in the distance— surrounded by rows of vegetation-- that could have stood in for the original “Psycho” mansion at Universal Studios. Any moment now I expected Tony Perkins (a.k.a. Norman Bates) to come running out, knife in hand, donning a lace dress. He’d never be able to catch up with a Harley. As Ryan Seacrest would say on American Idol, “We were safe.” Dominic’s Fruit Stand around the bend caught my eye, and their advertisement: “You’ll love our strawberries.” Next was The Whole Enchilada Market, smaller than Safeway, yet, an avid farmer’s stomping ground, complete with a variety of vegetables, fruit, and anything a hungry mouth desired. They had me at “enchilada.” Now it was just a matter of when. Fortunately, I’d just eaten my trusty apple at the pit stop, and found a lucky penny, to boot (with a little help from Ray). Castroville gave way to a land of artichokes. An amusing larger-than-life cardboard cutout displayed carts of oversize artichokes hitched to a canary yellow classic car, driven by a cowboy. Only in the West. Even more enticing was a huge billboard, not much further up the road, highlighted by the words: Monterey: Vacation with the Stars. However, instead of a painted mural of say, Kim Novak, posing glamorously in her prime (who, if memory serves me, had made her home here), there were several rust red starfish scattered all over the canvas. Oh, well, maybe in town there might be movie stars. After all, Forrest Gump’s pal, Bubba, had made a name for himself with an abundance of shrimp to be had for a mere pittance. Sand City was the perfect name for a town in our path, nearing the outskirts of Monterey. Sand dunes and Monterey Pines followed us to the right, as we made our way into the resort. Entering the city, an American flag stood in front of the Travel Lodge, having just passed the City of Monterey Cemetery. It reminded me of the anniversary of 9/11, which only days before, had marked the 7th-year anniversary of the tragedy. I looked at the deep blue waters in front of me, and the beauty of the flowers growing in picturesque gardens around the Cannery; couples cheerfully gliding on purple pedal boats as children fed ducks in the pond, and I was grateful to be alive. Our group parked on Hoffman Street, and as I disembarked I found a second penny. My good fortune was continuing, at least that’s my two cents worth of advice. Outside of Bubba Gump’s Restaurant Nadine gave me a hug as the girls who had done their 3rd annual ride joined us for lunch. I did see pictures of Robin Wright-Penn, Tom Hanks and others, so at least I could say they were within reach. The waitress asked us if we wanted to be tested for a trivia contest. Rick volunteered me. She asked how many presidents did Forrest meet and what were their names. I immediately answered, “Three.” And without hesitation (a surprise even to me) I rattled off: “JFK, LBJ and Nixon.” The hostess, quite astonished, shouted, “You’re right!” That was the easiest test I ever had taken. I wondered if I qualified to meet Forrest Gump, and asked her so. She stated they never know when the guest of honor would grace them with his presence. Oh, well, it was worth a try. The Posse and their friends were scattered at tables throughout. Each centerpiece was a license plate from Greenbow, Alabama detailed with the words FORREST RUN. Up above was the sign: “There’s an awful lot you can tell about a person by their shoes.” I decided I would try Forrest Gump’s shoes after lunch, where they were on display in cement out front. Jo Nelson sat beside me and ordered a pomegranate Margarita. When it was delivered to the table it was dripping. We laughed that the drink was spilled before having drank it. Berni shared her shrimp platter, while Sparky snapped pictures of our tables. I finished off a chicken Caesar salad and then it was time to visit “THE BENCH.” Forrest was nowhere in sight, but after testing his sneakers I decided his shoes were too big to fill. Rick and I wandered up to the gallery of stores, and, quite by chance (my luck) I found a real star to have my picture taken with. She was familiar with the story of Cinderella whose own shoes (glass slippers) changed her life. And being a true royal, the fair maiden embellished in a gold gown, was standing in front of a store that sold chocolate, and all the candy you could eat. Her name was Princess Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and having my photo taken with such a star was sweeter than a box of chocolates. You had to be there. |