A simple day...

“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”

- Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums

“All aboard,” the conductor cried as the doors of the SurfLiner’s opened at the Old Town Station. 

It was Saturday morning with blue skies and temperatures in the early 70s (21C) as I climbed on train #769, car #2134 and headed for the upper deck.  The lower levels are reserved for seniors and the infirmed.  I qualify for the former, but really…I mean REALLY!!  While there is little I can do about the way I look, there is PLENTY I can do minimize the way I think about the number of years I’ve been exposed to the toxic, skin withering, effects of planet earth.  You know, “…you are only as old as you feel.”  By the way, I believe this, but I can’t remember any older people ever saying it to me.  It is usually those young folk!

I was heading to meet a friend for lunch in San Juan Capistrano, a small town some 70 miles north of my home.  It is not a long drive, but even on weekends, Interstate 5 – ‘The 5” – is full of traffic and requires a fair amount of mental focus.  Riding the train takes a little longer, but there is no comparison in quality of the ride!

I always enjoy the train that travels between San Diego and points north.  Maybe I imagine I am the conductor and running it like the Lionel train set my parents had gotten me when I was a youngster.   As I recall, the engine (the most important part) came first before we could afford the tracks and transformer.  Never mind, because when I had all of the parts, it was thrilling to watch that train make its circle of the track at speeds I could control with my little electrical convertor.

The trip north takes an hour and a half from station to station.  For a large part of the trip, the rails hug the beaches along the coast where there are legion of surfers, sunbathers, walkers and joggers.  Occasionally in the first twenty-mile stretch or so, Highway One wedges its way between the shoreline and the tracks.  This means rather than being practically on the edge of the beach where you could hit it with a hefty stone’s throw, you might find yourself as much as a quarter mile (402m) from the shore.

Highway One is the fabled coast-hugging thoroughfare that runs most of the length of the Californian coast, occupying the majority of the United States Western Shore.  It is a long way as the crow flies and much longer as the ‘One’ makes its way along the edge of the State.  In the South, it is fairly straight, but once it gets to Northern California (San Francisco and points north), it becomes a wondrously windy road with tight curves and breathtaking views.  A drive up the coast of California is something special.

On the train…

Between San Diego and San Juan Capistrano, little beach towns with quaint coffee shops and eateries, dot the landscape before the tracks dip back to another beach loaded with folk enjoying the warm Southern California Sun.  On these brief breaks from the coast, road bikers and joggers make their way up and down the byways in their quest for eternal youth.  It seems the pricier the bicycles appear to be, the more colorful the riding shorts and shirts of those speeding ‘leg pumpers.’  Some of the outfits look as though they belong in the circus rather than the road.  I realize they make the riders more noticeable to traffic, but anywhere else but on their bikes, this clothing would seem very strange indeed.  Sometimes you will see them in packs of 10 to 15 riders…occasionally more.

En-route the train passes through Solana Beach… Encinitas… Carlsbad… Oceanside…all beach communities filled with visitors on the weekends, vacationers during the week and where in the evenings, people gather in small groups, in a kind of quiet reverence, to watch the sun disappear into the ocean on the western horizon.  There is something about this daily rhythmic event that places a sense of spiritual wonder over the watchers.  They sit for a few minutes once the giant candle has slipped to an afterglow before getting up, heading home, and spending the next day in preparation to be awed yet once again.

My destination…

San Juan Capistrano is small tourist town containing one of the largest Missions in Southern California.  Many of the communities in this part of the state began as Missions for the Roman Catholic Church.  This small municipality is one of them, and the city has preserved or restored much of what had been there in its early days.  It is a destination tourist spot and on most days there are long lines of people wanting to visit this landmark.  For many years, long before the first mission, Swallows (birds) stopped here during their migrations.  In the 1950s they inspired a popular romantic song, “When the Swallows come back to Capistrano.”  You can see Swallow nests all over the mission grounds, and if you are here during the migration, you will see them too.

The town has many little shops full of unique local art and craftwork.  There is a Starbucks near the train station, but there are any number of small boutique coffee/tea houses with quaint names and warm, authentic atmospheres.  Because the climate is so temperate, many people choose to sit outside under the shade of century old trees or large umbrellas where there is no foliage to protect from direct sunlight. 

A favorite spot…

I have come to this little place several times to meet a partner who comes south from Los Angeles.  It provides a laid back and relaxing atmosphere conducive to productive conversation and a wide variety of delicious food.  It is the kind of place where we can get away from our computers, mobile phones, email and all other forms of distraction.  Less ‘noise’ makes for better communication.

A few months ago, Molly and I came for the day and were looking for a place to have a bite of lunch.  We wandered around until we were both pretty hungry without finding what we really wanted.  It so happened we crossed through a little mall with small storefront businesses.  Right in the middle of the row we saw a line of Hispanic folk at the door of a small restaurant.  We peeked in to see working people standing at the counter ordering food.  We didn’t see any other Anglos and felt this was a good sign.  We hopped in line, and in the end had some of the most authentic and delicious Mexican food we have had since being in California.  This has become ‘my restaurant’ when coming to town.

Day was done...
Saturday turned out to be excellent. The train ride both ways was relaxing.  The time spent with my friend over a delightful lunch, made the outing leisurely and enjoyable.

There is no take away here…no lesson for the day…nothing particularly meaningful about the event.  It was simply a day to celebrate life and a place to share a little time with a friend.  If you find yourself in Southern California driving either north to – or south from Lost Angeles on ‘the 5,’ you will see a sign indicating San Juan Capistrano.  If you have some time and would like to experience a little ‘off the beaten track' pleasure, stop by this friendly community.  You will not be disappointed.

- ted