Once again we are loading up the Suburban, the vehicle that ecologists love to hate until they need one, and we are heading back to the Central California coast where things are nicer this time of year. Migration is nothing new on this planet of variable climate and we feel fortunate that we can count ourselves among the birds and fishes and retired humans that are in positions to make the trip. This round trip is something that we hope to do with primal regularity.
The behemoth truck allows us to take almost an entire household with us, similar to the Grapes of Wrath truck above. Of course we need GPS navigation, Internet and cell phones stuck on the various truck surfaces, to find California. These are things that were not even imagined in the 1930's, the period depicted in the photo, but these earlier pioneers did not have a fully equiped Suburban with leather seats and a V-8 engine that would run on E85 fuel and enough computing power to go to the moon and back. I suppose if we just go the hundred or so yards West to the end of our street and turn South on Highway 101 we would arrive in our desired spot of California in short order, but what fun is that?
1 comment:
Did you leave some room for shopping at vineyards on the way?
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