Week 15: Silver strand to Imperial Beach

There has been a growing sense of finality ever since we crossed the Bay bak at the beginning of December.  As we've made our way down the Silver strand Isthmus the land has taken on a different kind of character and Mexico now looms large on the horizon.  Now our journey is very much to the south and the time spent in transit is increasing.  After a week and a half of work, we made our way a bit further south.
We are actually a bit in need of a grocery run presently.  Still we are more in need of a beach walk.  Fortunately, the Little Italy Farmer's market is on Saturday morning and so we figured we'd just get food there.  The only problem with this is that I always end up spending more money and time at the farmer's market than planned, and some of the farm stands are a tad overpriced (Seriously 3$ for a limp head of Broccoli?)
Still we made out with a great deal on some jewelry for a friend who's birthday party we'd be attending later in the day, some tamales, some hummus and tapenade and pitas, and some blackberries.  It's nice seeing the streets full of happy people and commerce thriving.  I sometimes think it'd be awesome to do the urban living thing more often, checking out more markets, and walking everywhere, but we are not there yet.   Today however we could give it a shot.

Little Italy farmers market

Here comes the train, not ours.

Our bags now a few pound lighter and our wallets a few more dollars lighter, we caught the trolley down to 12th and Imperial, where we'd then catch the bus over the Coronado bridge.  Of any leg of the journey, this one seemed somehow the best one on which to circumnavigate the south bay, such that we'd likely be taking a somewhat different route north from the one we took south.  I'm a fan of trains and trolleys, yet somehow I have never ridden the part of the trolley line that goes past the convention center until today.  Now all I need to complete my knowledge of the trolley lines is to go from Santee to Gillespie Field.  Exciting times.

The convention center 

The footbridge.

the switching yard.

As we approached 12th and Imperial we came upon the switching yard.  Both Anita and I have had  nightmares about places like this:  being a yard full of tracks with trains from every which direction.  In my dreams the conductor will usually start using the loudspeaker to cuss me out, "Will you please get the $*#@ out of the path of the approaching trolley . . . "  No one was cussing us out today.  maybe time to wake up.  Strangely I've been feeling lately like my dreams seem more real than waking life.  While packing for today I was searching for some towels and found myself recalling a conversation relating to said towels, but could not place where it had happened or whether it had been real or not, until Anita reminded me it was on thursday night.   The party at which said lapse happened was certainly intense (I woke up hungover despite having only one glass of wine), but still the memory lapse had me a tad shaken.  It is said that in the age of the internet that certain skills and mental capacities are being lost.  Perhaps it's akin to the lost art of 16th century boat construction, which is not exactly practical, albeit still beautiful.  Still I feel there is some deeper link to the self that is lost when we can look it up online.  Sort of like GPS has made some people stop learning how to read maps.  I guess you could say we have made certain functions, once dependant on a certain brain wiring available to the masses, but this advance may have come at the expense of excellence in these arenas.  Moral of the story, if it serves you, don't be afraid to learn the old way and how to be excellent by it.

The new library

Speaking of which, we were delighted to see a restoration of an old trolley car at 12 & imperial.  Apparently it does a couple of loops around downtown during the middle of the day, showcasing wares from a bygone era and is certainly a nice way to spend 2.50 if you're visiting the area.  These old model streetcars are beautiful, however I will note that the fellow on the walker was having a bit of difficulty negotiating the entrance to the car.  I understand the new cars to be a bit easier to navigate.  So uh old tech: 1 ; New tech 1?

The Pacific Fleet through the bus window.  They go under this bridge!

We however were done with the trolley for the moment and now on the 901 bus to Coronado.  In a previous entry we took photographs from the ferry.  Last week we drove so i didn't get  a chance to take pictures.  Today we got a few shots from the top of the Coronado Bridge.  Opened in 1968 it greatly decreased travel times from San Diego to Coronado, replacing the car ferry.  The great heights to which it climbs are in part to allow Navy ships of the Pacific fleet to pass underneath.  We could view some of these specimens of modern shipbuilding as we rode over and indeed they look like would fit but only barely.  As we could now make out the distinctive norfolk island pines of Coronado it appeared there was a bit of haze in the air today.  It's been a pretty bad drought here and it seems a rain might clear the air.   We meandered past the North Island Naval air station, then down Orange ave through downtown, and finally out along a highway parallel to where we had walked last week to the entrance of Silver Strand state beach.

Speedboat under the bridge

Looking pretty hazy

Finally the beach.

We were starving and my pack was heavy by the time we got to the beach.  Picking up where we left off we found a picnic table and enjoyed our tamales and hummus and pitas and berries.  We were surprised how hard it was to see out to Point Loma, which is usually quite prominent from here.  By the time we were done with lunch, however the reason for this became apparent.  A dense fog bank was overtaking the shore this afternoon and soon had us enveloped.  We have experienced a number of weather on our walk, but surprisingly no dense fog.  It seemed appropriate for this leg of the journey.

Where the beach left off last week

Here comes the fog

here comes the fog

It's all white

Tower 0.  We've lost count.

It was like this for much of the journey.

The sun burns cold

At first it was a novelty.  Mysterious wisps of colloidal suspended water droplets drifting by.   Unlike the coast elsewhere in the county, however this stretch doesn't have much topography or development and so you sort of lose any sense of place.  The dunes are fenced off to protect the wildlife in the north and the Navy property in the south and so it's just a narrow strip between the waves and the dunes that we have to wander.  The waves crash in the distance.  As the road gets further away the crowds dwindle.  There were many times it was just us, the sand and the fog.  Aching limbs aside It was a bit of a sensory deprivation experience.  At first I found myself wandering my my mind, full of thoughts full of repeating tapes.  I couldn't focus on anything around me.  The glare was also as issue (yes even in the fog).  I kept wanting to take it all in but I wasn't sure what "it" was.  Patterns, sounds, smells all subtle and repetitive (though I did feel my sinuses clear up)

Look at my Sand Dollar!

Wave1

Wave2

Wave3

Glare

I'm pretty sire they don't want us to go past this sign

Deeper into the fog

We are both rather damp after wandering in this

At some point I found myself wanting to sit down just to get more present.  I was continuing to sleepwalk and sleep photograph and get lost even as we made progress.  I could feel the dew condensing on our windward sides and growing damp.  The fog can get right into the deepest part of your soul.  There is no repelling it, for it moves with the air, you breathe it inside of you.  We collected our thoughts watching some fishermen ply the misty waters.

Where am I?

Panorama

Sitting still in the nowhere world

An old radio facility for the Navy.  I don't think this does anything anymore.

At some point the crowds began to increase just a little, more joggers, fisherpeople.   This was really our only sign of any progress.   Eventually we were able to make out the collection of antennae that make up the old navy radio facility.  and then from there it was the first and then second of the Imperial Beach Jetties.  Somewhere around here the fog began to lift just a bit.

And finally we see the first of the IB jetties

Birdlife in fog.

Camp surf

Finally back in civilization

The second IB Jetty.

Now the Imperial Beach pier was finally appearing out the mists and what at Pier!  We passed volleyball courts, beachside houses and hotels.  Imperial Beach bills itself as the "Southernmost beach town on the west coast." It is also one of the last affordable coastal enclaves, a throwback to what may have been more common 30 years ago.  You're far enough away from any urban center, a bit at risk for sea level and storm surges and so it is this sort of last outpost of the USA before the true border wildlands begin. We'll have more on this next week for sure as we begin to enter the wilderness.  For now it was nice to see a place still a bit off the radar of those outside.

Getting there

A little slice of heaven

The Pier

 The Imperial Beach pier has seen many cycles of boom and bust, been washed away by winter storms, rebuilt, and upgraded.  We made our way out, savoring the vistas afforded, past birdlife unafraid of our presence and working class fisherpeople and the families.

 So this Pelican here was very much not afraid of us and walked right up to Anita and began snapping at her.  Some efforts to protect wildlife have been quite successful and generated a whole new set of problems: obnoxious aggressive wildlife.  This guy nearly poked out a 4 year old's eyeball when he got to close.  I've met a thoroughly able bodied colleague of mine who had scars from one of her encounters with pelicans on a pier.  They are cute, but not particularly cuddly.

Anita reeling from her argument with the pelican.

Will you be friends with me?  NO!

Birds Do it!

A starfish thrown back into the water.

At the tip of the pier was a roughish seafood place and some fishermen (all men this time) chatting about their catch.  Not a lot of luck today.  The starfish was the biggest catch of the hour and apparently responsible for eating all the bait.  Otherwise it was silent and grey with even the surf now muted.  We lingered just a little before wandering back to the street where the bus would pick us up.

People of Imperial beach pier.

Seagull, looks like a winged rat.

I'm cute!

See us next week!

Where are we?  We are in Imperial Beach!

The driver of this jeep is a real jerk who nearly ran over several people in a
 crosswalk.   I wish I had a cup of hot coffee to toss into their vehicle.

Looks like full size hot wheels car from my childhood.

So the bus took us up Palm ave to the trolley through the strip malls of inland IB.  It's a different place here in south county. Still USA, but the feel of Mexico is far more palpable.  One of the few places where the freeway onramps have San Diego to the North.  The trolley took us back north past the Otay and sweetwater rivers, past the Pacific fleet and Barrio logan.  We arrived home an hour and a half later sunburned and tired, having spent more time in transit than actually walking on the beach.  Still an amazing journey

Sun looks like moon