Valentine’s Day 2005; thought it would be like all the other massacres before. So, I decided to bypass all the bloody details and arrangements (workaholics) and celebrate a month earlier. Thinking I was smart and ahead of the game; I impulsively, decided to run away to the coast for the last weekend with my fiancée.
Darren had just accepted an amazing opportunity for a well-known Title company and was “set” to start his newly appointed position, the following Monday. With excitement and anticipation in the air, we mad-dashed a few things together and sped out of the dusty city, to replenish our spirits by the mutual love of the sea. Thought our excursion to be an action-packed day trip.
The great, vast, blue, Pacific Ocean, only a few hours away, but a joyride the entire way. We like to gas up in Vacaville, near the NutTree. The NutTree is a family get-away from a previous life (childhood) that I thoroughly enjoyed. Through the man-made hills of Fairfield, Tom Petty blasted from my Nissan’s speakers. I am an American girl, that’s how I roll!
Raised on promises
She couldn’t help thinkin’ that there
Was a little more to life
Somewhere else
After all it was a great big world
With lots of places to run to.”
Mr. Blue skies bound and lush, green, grassy hills to speed through (watch-out for radar love), not-to-mention, miles of grape vines. The most amazing vino’s come from Napa, and the views robust, invigorating, and intoxicating. Wish I had worn more clothes, there’s a chill in the air. But, hey, it’s California; nothing to stress over.
Stopped in Petaluma for snacks and bait, plus there’re great murals to get selfies and post all over social media. Grabbed my mountain dew (breakfast of champions) and jumped back in the Sentra to “jet” to our favorite beach. The clouds no longer puffy and white, but grey and filling up with rain. I love the rain and never shirk from a splash of water. I’m not as dainty as one would think.
They call the wind Mariah, and just like the diva herself, gusts blew through the mountains, informing all who visits a storm’s a brewing, and we’re in for a show of epic lightning and thunderous proportions! The radio news alert broke through our blasting of rock tuneage and in dramatic fashion, reported a storm was passing through called the Pineapple Express (This storm was the largest to hit Southern California since the storms that hit during the 1997–98 El Niño event). Sounded super yummy to me and all I could think of was pizza!
This did not detour us one bit or bite! I parked us at the top of Wright’s Beach, so we could assess the views. All white caps: meaning the waves were rolling in so fast and rocky, creating a sea of white foam. Choppy and turbulent meant no frisbee, surfing, paragliding or parasailing, or kite flying this day. Riptide warnings everywhere and essentially the entire beach cautioned taped. Nonetheless, we walked down the cliff via a goat trail and made our way to the shore.
Blustery and cold, I blew all over the beach. We bundled up together and tried to walk this glorious beach, that I had done my whole life. We were the only two on land at this time, and most assuredly the “ballsiest”. I don’t have any gonads, but by this time they would have inverted back into my body, hiding and traumatized. It was so cold from the waves crashing and the chill from the mist. Ignorance isn’t always bliss. My hidden escape of golden sunshine and treasured memories, now volatile and the wind pushing my backside back to the car.
I didn’t want to leave, no secret really. I never want to leave, and I’ve been known to shed a tear, having to go. The elements told us, and not in a whisper, to get inside and faraway from the ocean! The Nissan roared with excitement, and I started her back up for a paramount getaway. I actually have had a car that was possessed, the one right before this Nissan: that’s for another day of writing (see Ghost Ride The Whip post). However, I digress, this Nissan aptly named Trooper, was going to help make our escape and we zoomed through the coastal town as the rain poured down upon us. The ocean swallowed up the road (highway 1) behind as we narrowly escaped and looking in the rearview mirror, God smacked with sheer terror.
Trooper had been to the coast several times, and the mountains, even the snow; and almost over a cliff or two. Finally, up ahead the only exit out of Bodega Bay and this unexplained, inexplicable storm called the Pineapple Express! Water bubbled over our headlights, and I couldn’t continue onward; cars, vans, and trucks all pulled over. Stalled from what truly appears as a river running through the only street out of the waterlogged abyss.
“Pineapple Express is a non-technical term for a meteorological phenomenon characterized by a strong and persistent large-scale flow of warm moist air, and the associated heavy precipitation both in the waters immediately northeast of the Hawaiian Islands and extending northeast to any location along the Pacific coast of North America”. “A Pineapple Express is an example of an ‘atmospheric river’, which is a more general term for such relatively narrow corridors of enhanced water vapor transport at mid-latitudes around the world.” – Wikipedia
Darren said, “we’re trapped”! Quickly, turned the car around and headed back into town. I know another way, so I steered our vessel towards Sebastopol and Occidental. Trees were bent sideways, and debris covered the small quaint roads. It got dark, fast and between the wind and the rain this was getting out of hand and kind of dangerous. All the hotels booked, no vacancy, and there’s no campsite that exists.
Luckily, we have God and the Angels on our side, and pulled into a motel that just opened. Under construction, the sign stated. I figured any shelter will do, since this storm was outrageous! The nice lady from the lobby, greeted us with a smile and a disconcerting sigh. “We have no rooms available; the power keeps getting shut-off, and reports coming in show the town has flooded”.
My already anxious fiancée, blurts out, “I’ve got to leave, I have a new job starting tomorrow!” I laugh, when I get nervous; so, it’s safe to say, I laugh often. Not only that, but I like to bring levity to trying times; so, I made small talk. Told her, where we come from, and what we’d just been through. Talked about this famous town, and that my own parents honeymooned here, around 1967 or so.
The lights were somehow staying on, but flickers kept us forewarned. I figured the backup generator was the reason. I couldn’t believe there weren’t any vacancies, we were the only car parked in the spaces deemed for guests, and no other soul graced us with an appearance. Just then, our lady of the motel, made a call out to somewhere else. I was looking out at my Nissan and praying my loyal steed would endure, God’s angry wrath, she was in need of a bath.
“I have one room available!” “Appears a cancellation due to the storm, you can stay”, exclaimed, from our Lady of the off beaten trail of haunted motels. As if a password was all she needed, extended a room key, unlike any other I’d ever seen. “Your room, is called The Alfred Hitchcock suite, and we hope you enjoy your stay!”
“I know him”, I gasped! Alfred Hitchcock is famous over in Bodega Bay. “In The Birds, Melanie Daniels, a young socialite, meets lawyer Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor) in a bird shop; Jessica Tandy plays his possessive mother”. “Hedren visits him in Bodega Bay (where The Birds was filmed) carrying a pair of lovebirds as a gift”. “Suddenly waves of birds start gathering, watching, and attacking”. The question: “What do the birds want?” is left unanswered”. “Hitchcock made the film with equipment from the Revue Studio, which made Alfred Hitchcock Presents.” “He said it was his most technically challenging film, using a combination of trained and mechanical birds against a backdrop of wild ones”. “Every shot was sketched in advance”. – Wikipedia
The birds over at the coast, are very aggressive. Most tourists visit on the weekends and yes, like to feed the seagulls. I’m no exception, and I name them Jonathon (ode to Jonathon Livingston the seagull). On a Thursday or mid-week, the birds will take command of your breadcrumbs, oyster crackers, or turkey sandwich if you mind!
Our suite was extraordinary! All themed out and an exquisite shelter to ride out this storm. Photos ordained this plush navy adorned suite of Hitchcock’s awards, memorabilia, and nostalgic décor. “Psycho (1960) is arguably Hitchcock’s best-known film”. “Based on Robert Bloch’s 1959 novel Psycho, which was inspired by the case of Ed Gein, the film was produced on a tight budget of $800,000 (equivalent to $6,998,425 in 2020) and shot in black-and-white on a spare set using crew members from Alfred Hitchcock Presents“.
of the human bladder.”
“The unprecedented violence of the shower scene, the early death of the heroine, and the innocent lives extinguished by a disturbed murderer became the hallmarks of a new horror-film genre”. “The film proved popular with audiences, with lines stretching outside theatres as viewers waited for the next showing”. – Wikipedia
I most certainly didn’t take a shower, chiefly the swirling, spa like tub; drew me into its lair, like a moth to flame. I soaked in the hot water like a sponge. Huzzah found coffee! This Valentine’s Day excursion is working out well, for me. As we speak, I have my coffee out of my blue ceramic mug with a seagull affixed, purchased over at Bodega Bay and in my hands every morning since. Alfred Hitchcock is my kind of ghost, but I didn’t see any apparitions that Holiday. Just mother nature blowing an epic wet kiss!
The next morning, Darren, contacted his future employer and since they had never heard of the Pineapple Express, doubted the entire ordeal, and opted for someone else in the position. A disheartened fiancée checked-out with me that next morning. I was thrilled we escaped certain death, and my car (Trooper), sparkled and shined, happy to chauffer us home safely. Three years later, everyone knew what The Pineapple Express was!
“A process server and his marijuana dealer wind up on the run from hitmen and a corrupt police officer after he witnesses his dealer’s boss murder a competitor while trying to serve papers on him”. Originally to purchase, specifically, a rare new strain called Pineapple Express. “Incredibly, the bad guys really are hot on their trail and trying to figure out the fastest way to kill them both”. “All aboard the Pineapple Express”.
Whatever you think it is or want it to be; I will always remember that storm and how fruitful a death-defying excursion can be! Thank you for surfing this Pineapple Expression! Hope you return for more fruit loops, haunted tales with tails, shipwrecks and ghost ships, moments from the sandcastles and seahorses. This is a disclaimer and waterlogged message in an ancient bottle for anyone who needs one, this fantastical tale a work of sea foam and fiction; seashell “notes” by the seashore and leave a sand dollar for the next crab or turtle to come ….
The End Matey’s, Bon Voyage, Safe Travels, & God Speed!
Beyond Sirius Sea 