San Clemente Conversations

On Wednesday, April 17, 2013, I left the Rose home and headed west to the coast--a short distance of under 5 miles, but very hilly. I found another joy of the recumbent trike. In the middle of every big hill in the SD and LA area, there appears to be a stoplight. And I hit most of them, I think. But with the recumbent, I stay seated, squeezing the brake, and keeping my feet pushed against the peddles. When the light turns green, voila, I just start pedaling. No rolling backward, no falling backward, no weaving side to side. 

Later I found that sometimes city streets and driveways, if really short, are sometimes impossibly steep and it takes a few attempts and a lot of weaving to get up them. And once, so far, a push. 

Anyway, on to the beach! My destination was the home of Debbie and Martin Eichmann in San Clemente. Debbie was my sisters’ high school friend and they have remained in contact all these years. In fact, my sister Shannon drives up regularly to have lunch with her, if she gets a weekday off. More on this wonderful couple later.

First it was up the coast through Del Mar, Solana Beach, Encinitas, Carlsbad, and Oceanside. These are great coastal towns with all those quaint shops that make you want to drink coffee or lemonade and sit outside. Artwork galore. There is this bike and walk path in Solana Beach--right next to the street, but bordered by flowers, trees, bushes, and artwork. You cycle through 2 carved archways as you enter the bikeway (pics in photo section--but I’m several days behind in downloading photos--it’s very time consuming. Don’t hold your breath.). These carvings depict Solana beach scenes: surfers, kids, families, plants, waves, and perhaps the founding fathers, history, and maybe the artists who did the carvings. In any case: delightful. 

Cycling by Cardiff By The Sea brought back many memories of camping along the beach at San Elijo, both as a child and as an adult. Mom used to pack up us 4 kids and my teenage sisters’ friends and we would play all day at the beach, eat Mom’s barbecued whatever at night, and sleep on the ground in our sleeping bags. My sister Katie still goes every few years, packing up her grown kids and grandkids and traveling from Tucson to San Elijo to camp. She calls herself the Camp Nazi because she rules the campsite with no argument allowed. She is organized and efficient and it runs like clockwork if we follow her directions. Fighting is futile. 

We love camping with Katie because she thinks and plans while we have fun. She is in her element: in total control, working her butt off, then reading for hours in a lawnchair in the shade, with her cute visor. 

I cycled through Encinitas and Carlsbad, reaching Oceanside in the late morning. My niece Jenny drove in from Escondido to share lunch with me. We had a great time reconnecting. Jenny is soft spoken and shy, but she does have her own opinions and, beneath the seemingly calm exterior is a passionate, feeling woman with dreams. Still waters do indeed run deep. She may go along with the family in order to keep the peace, but I love the fact that she has her OWN ideas. She lives with her mom, the effervescent Sherri, and keeps the home fires burning. She is thinking of her career choices and there are so many options. She loves to read and her passion is photography. She is kindhearted and has a best friend in her cousin, Rochelle (is that her name, Jenny?). Those two can tell each other everything without fear of judgment.

We humans seem to have honed that skill--passing judgment. We are so damn good at it because we do it all day long. But alas, our judgments are usually way off course. 

Otherwise, the world would be at peace. And we would get along with our neighbors co-workers. We would live and let live. 

But, anyway, back to Jenny. She wore this gorgeous, filmy, deep purple, embroidered blouse from India. It was a gift from Megan, her sister.  Megan is the adventurous traveler and has been all over the world through her work. Jenny is the steady lighthouse; she shines a beacon so we can remember and find our way home again. I love a good lighthouse. And a good ship. I love Jenny and Megan. What a pair.

Megan was traveling back to the states from Israel, I believe. Her mom was joining her for a little vacation. Thus, I missed seeing those 2 loved ones. 

Jenny and I had lunch at the Beach Break Cafe in Oceanside. I was a member of the clean plate club while Jenny took most of her lunch home. I seem to be eating a lot...But I’ve lost some weight, so I am happy to keep eating. As long as I keep working it off...

Just before reaching the lunch rendezvous with Jenny, I met two interesting people. One was Nina. I was waiting for a light; so was she. She was a slender, classy woman, like only elegant, beach women can be. She was perhaps around 60. We talked for just a moment. But what a moment. She wanted to know what I was doing on the trike, loaded down. Where was I going? Where had I started? She said that she had just realized that morning that she needed adventure back in her life. She put aside all her normal, daily responsibilities of the morning to take a walk down to the beach. Here she lived in a beautiful place, but had, somewhere along the way, forgotten to really enjoy her surroundings. So, the morning was sunny and she put aside the paperwork and the laundry to head out. She was musing about why she was not doing something to bring back the adventure, the mystery, the excitement, when she arrived at our mutual corner. She thanked me for doing what I was doing and said it was just what she needed to see. She was going to finish her lovely, free morning, and decide on what spark she wanted to light. 

I am grateful that I met her. She makes me remember to be present; to notice my surroundings, my gifts, my life. Thank you, Nina.

I met Ron, the Surfer, a few blocks from the cafe where I was meeting Jenny. I had stopped at this corner where I saw The Ocean House. I don’t know what it was---maybe a restaurant, hotel, resort, or museum? It is this huge Victorian building--absolutely gorgeous with all its peaks and gables. In front of this building was a beautiful mosaic. I stopped to take a photograph and this good-looking young man asked me if I wanted him to take my picture there. I happily agreed and then we chatted. For awhile. Ron is dark and handsome and fit. He has been a surfer for many years. He loves to stay active and is careful about his diet. He was on his way to get some fresh juice. He is “semi-retired” which means he has enough money to live while he considers his next move. He made some wise property and business investments but isn’t quite sure what is next in his life. 

Ron enjoys meeting interesting people, eating healthy, and surfing. He worked for 24 yrs in computers; he says he believes in life after death because he came alive at 5:01 pm every day. Great sense of humor. Ron tries to remember to be humble and to listen to people who have seen and done more than most people. He asked me “You know how you meet those people who are truly wise and you can see it in their eyes?” He likes to listen to these people and to learn what he can from someone else’s experiences and lessons. He is a spiritual man and says he is a “feeling” person who relies on his intuitions for wisdom. He likes to simply think, ponder, meditate---whatever is the term. 

Ron has two sons. One is in college and the other is finishing up high school The youngest has applied to, and has been accepted by, several maritime colleges on both coasts. This youngster would like to work on ships--be outside and by the water for the rest of his life. I hear the father in that one.

I was quite surprised when Ron told me he was 56. That is 2 yrs older than I am. I truly thought he was 38-40. I asked the secret of his youth. He provided the answers that have been repeated by every person I meet who looks younger than their years: healthy diet, regular exercise, genetics, and a positive attitude. And loving life.

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After Oceanside, I navigated through Camp Pendleton, a naval and marine military base. I got a bit turned around and had to consult my Google Bicycle Maps to get back on course. Then, there were detours due to road work, so I spent quite a bit of time spinning through the base. If you are on a bike (or trike, apparently), I guess you get a grandfathered pass through the base. The guard at the gate just saw my loaded bike, checked my ID, and sent me on my way. No paper pass. They didn’t even check my load, which was covered with a nylon tarp of sorts. I must look pretty non-threatening. 

Most of the distance on the cycle through Camp Pendleton winds through the hills. It was really great that the gov has kept that area open. Otherwise, we would have solid houses and stores all the way up the coast. Even after the official military base was navigated, I cycled through miles of preserved coastal roads, still managed and restricted by the Marines. Hi tech helicopters whirred overhead and jets zoomed in aeronautic acrobatics as they maneuvered and practiced flight skills. Miles along this old bike path--old pacific road that existed before the area became a military base---there was a set of 3 portable toilets. I was extremely grateful to the military for thinking of us cyclists. It was like a beacon in the night, although only mid-afternoon. 

North of Camp P and the Marine roads, you reach San Onofre. I cycled through miles of parking lot for the San Onofre State Beach. You can do day and night camping there. You camp right next to the parking lot and, to get to the beach, you hike through low scrub bushes before you reach the sand. It was practically empty. I seem to recall camping there a few times and feeling very proud as a grade school kid for being able to do the hike and then remember where in the heck our own camp was located. You can’t see the camp from the beach. And the way the water moves you---well, it is easy to get displaced when you are little. 

It was a beautiful but really long ride that day. I made it to San Clemente in early evening and then cycled up into the hills to reach Debbie and Martin’s house. They had rolled out the red carpet and I was greeted by smiles and hugs. I hadn’t seen them in about 30 years. But they looked the same. Debbie with her blonde straight har, adorable smile and dimples, the way she throws her head back when she laughs with gusto, and her twinkling eyes. Martin, the forever surfer, still a gorgeous hunk at 60, with his tanned skin and perfect smile. We talked for a few hours and I ate a bowl of salad meant for 3 people. Lol! I think they may have been surprised I could eat that much! 

They are early to bed, early to rise folks, so we turned in around 9:30. It was way past their bedtime. I stayed up a bit and worked on the blog (even though it has taken days to review, add, edit, etc) and planned the next day’s journey. The following morning, I met their beloved10 yr old Granddaughter, Rene. She is a real cutie---open, friendly, and smart as a whip. She really liked Henry David and, if her legs had been longer, I would’ve told her to take him for a ride. But--both feet couldn’t reach the pedals and the seat is already scooted forward as much as I could move it. I’m already half-sitting on the steering mechanism. So, Rene was invited to simply sit on the seat and play with the steering. She thought it was pretty cool. Kids can be easy to please. I love children.

After Martin fed Rene her waffle and fruit and then took her to shcool, he took Debbie and I for the scenic route to see Dana Point and to stop and look at the beach and drink coffee while the waves rolled in. We talked surfing, maritime history, pirates, and where to cycle for a great ocean view. He drove to a Triple A store so I could pick up paper maps. When we parked, he noted his right front tire had gone flat. It was actually comical---a flat tire in the Triple A parking lot! The fix-it van arrived shortly and the young AAA employee changed the tire pretty quickly. Martin then had his work cut out for him for the day. He was contemplating purchasing 4 new tires because the flat appeared to be due to sidewall damage. I have gone through many tires for that reason. Now I tend to park too far away from the curb!! 

Debbie Martin is a long, long time family friend. My sister Shannon is 6 years older and Katie 8 years older than I. When you are a child, this is like a generation! I loved having teenage sisters in the 1960’s in southern California. I wanted to be just like them. Debbie was Katie’s best friend forever, but she was with us so often that she was one of Shannon’s closest friends as well. She even lived with us for about 6 months when we lived in Springfield, Illinois when I was 11. Almost as long as I can remember Debbie, there was Martin. High school sweethearts. Debbie and I talked extensively about how they managed to buy a nice home in San Clemente and they also have retired early. They were wise and frugal and determined. And they had fun. They left California for part of their life together, raising children, following the job, etc. But they returned and Debbie has worked for Kaiser Permanente for 30-something years. Because of the medical insurance benefits, she stuck with K-P through thick and thin. She put her entire paycheck into savings for several years so they could buy a house. She is organized and knows how to plan and raise a family. 

Debbie loves her home. She loves the things in it. Every item has a precious memory attached to it. Whether the geegaw or painting or print or whatever was purchased together with Martin, or given to her by her mother Maxine---everything is beloved. I remember Maxine from when I was about 8 yrs old. She was a vivacious, friendly, and plainspoken woman. She would tell you the truth, whether you liked it or not. I really like that kind of person. I have a German friend, Carolla, who shares that quality. I don’t have to pussyfoot around or watch what I say. I don’t have to guess what she is thinking when we are together. Honest, candid. That was Maxine.

Debbie has some of her qualities. Debbie is an absolute gem.

In addition to her home and all the things in it, Debbie loves to read. She really likes to read non-fiction history as well as historical fiction. She is a treasure trove of information and she would be fun to travel with--anywhere---because she would study the area, the history, the people, and then educate her listeners. Saves them a lot of time!! I would go anywhere with you, Debbie! You would make it fun.

She has been retired for about one year. She is loving it. She keeps busy, just as she did when she was a working woman. A lot of her time is spent babysitting Rene. They take care of her after school and often on weekends, as her parents work and modern families are busy. Debbie takes yoga class 2-3 times/week. While we chatted away at dinnertime, Debbie would put her hands together in the prayer position, raise them up, arch backward, and breathe deeply. It was hilarious but calming too, so I happily took the moments to breathe deeply as well. 

Most of all, Debbie talked about Martin. She loves that guy, almost 45 years of loving him. She has never been jealous of his surfing passion and has been happy to watch him surf from the sidelines, so to speak. She appreciates who he is and allows him to be that person. One of the main reasons she wanted retirement was for Martin---as he had become burned out with his decades long job and she wanted him to enjoy his life all day, for the rest of his years. He is pretty healthy, so that should be a long, long time of enjoyment. Good for them. 

Debbie is very thoughtful and considerate. She is really funny and makes everything something to laugh about. She had quizzed my sister about me before I got there and had read everything I had previously written on my blog. So, it was like she remembered me as a child as well as knew me as an adult--as I am now. Debbie and Martin had prepared a lovely salad and a plate of seasoned, sliced avocados. She had the sparkling water and the wine at the ready. The next morning, upon my departure, she pulled out several gluten-free health bars, crisp green bean snacks, waters with electrolytes, and coconut water. Because I was already overloaded, I left some of the fluids because my water container was about full and fluids are very heavy to lug around. Especially when there are so many markets along the way. I feel like I have another best friend in Debbie.

Definitely family!

Martin is the true outdoors lover. He gets up before dawn, surfs as often as he can, but especially during the weekdays. He says he often leaves the weekends for the youngsters who come in droves to surf the waves. He still uses a longboard--which takes well-honed skill to manage. He has a VW van---I half expected to see it painted in psychadelics as it would have been painted in the 60’s and 70’s. But it was a great camper van, painted in a muted grayish brown. I am sure there is a name for that color. Very understated in color but ready for any traveling adventure! Martin’s bright surfboard was laid inside, waxed to perfection, and ready for a second’s notice! Martin does the gardening and home repairs. He likes being the cook of the family since Debbie went on cooking strike some years ago. She just got up one day and said, “I’m done. I don’t want to cook anymore”. So, he has been doing it. I think she secretly helps sometimes but doesn’t really take the credit. Anyway, Martin loves to fix weekday breakfast for Rene when her mom drops her off at the house before school. He also loves to take Rene to school. Martin loves to spoil the grandkids and to spoil their dog too. 

For both of them, they most of all love each other and the family. And they are grateful to live where they do and have the life that they have worked so hard to build and maintain.

Gratitude is the key, I think. 

San Clemente and the Eichmann’s. This was a delight.