NOTE TO READER: I JUST FOUND OUT YOU CANNOT REMOVE MUSSELS WITH TOOLS! MUST DO WITH HANDS ONLY! GOOD LUCK!
Jeeps McGee, my trusty vehicle, starts up with a gutsy roar. The performance exhaust shakes me with thunderous throaty vibrations. My coffee cup perched precariously on the dash spills while disco competes for attention on a station I don't remember ever having set (was I really listening to this last night? Yikes!). My overnight duffle is happily absorbing the jus de chaussette I was very much looking forward to. Some happy New Year this is!
After an onslaught of holiday parties, I am throwing in the cocktail dress and pulling on the workboots. I sink a few bucks into Jeeps McGee's big belly and put San Francisco in the rear view mirror. Pescadero here I come...
Me and McGee are so in our element. We are noisily cruising down 280, bouncing up and over the curvy Skyline mountains down to Highway 1. I reach Half Moon Bay and my 33-inch flame tread tires screech left onto the Coastal Highway.
Ahhhh, the ocean....
Today is beautiful. The Winter sun crisp illuminating the Pacific on my right like a bright and blinding sequined serpent. The fields on my left bleak and mostly tilled under with random rotting pumpkins left unloved. Cypress trees, like tortured twisted shadows with desperate outstretched arms edge the endless blue. Weathered farms dot the coast.
Artichoke soup, dungeness crab, and olallieberry pie – here I come!