Go!

I woke this morning at about 3:30 to the sound of the freight train rolling through Davis, way off in the distance. It reminded me that the next time I hear a train at that hour -- or perhaps a bit later -- will be in Cuyutlan. The early morning flyer chugs through the village at about 5 AM. Since there are no safety crossings, no lights, no bells, no barrier bar that comes down across the roads, the train starts its lonesome whistle about three miles down the track and keeps it up until it is through town. I love hearing it. It is so still, except for the shuss of the surf out the open slider, and then from way off, almost to Armeria, comes the sound of the approaching train. However, after about a week I sleep right through it.

It is a clear, cold morning, perfect for traveling. I have been checking the weather faithfully to see if we are going to have fog in the valley. Looks good. The coffee is perking, the lunch is made, the bags are packed, surfaces have been cleared of the usual detritus of daily life. Gee, everything looks great. We should do this more often!

Next stop? Long Beach.