When I make a long drive, lately, it seems as if I get in the car and am transported by a force other than my own vigilance or the tank of gasoline.  So it went this past weekend. After taking a rest, following my Good Friday volunteer training in setting up a fire shelter with the local Red Cross, I headed out towards San Diego, getting as far as Banning, before the need to sleep became prominent.  A night at the Sunset Motel, followed by a hearty breakfast at Gramma’s Restaurant (the food’s good and the waitresses are all cute), got me up and running.  I was back in the force’s guiding clutches, and in San Diego, by 10 AM.

Aram managed to get himself up, and to our meeting place at the NEX gas station, around 11.  After a nice lunch at Chinese City, in National City, we ran an errand at a local discount store.  It was instructive for me to learn the parking lot etiquette of Mexican-Americans.  Drivers queue their cars up and wait carefully for people to pull out- no honking, no jockeying for position.  In my case, I had to move past a lady who was trying to pull out, so the Jeep waiting for her could get into position.  The lady didn’t understand at first, and started yelling at us.  After she figured it out, peace returned to the planet and I pulled around and found my spot.

The errand accomplished, thirty minutes later, we headed up to Iron Mountain, just east of Poway.  There, we hiked about halfway up and took a path around to a bowl-shaped valley, in the midst of four peaks.  Iron Mountain has two trailheads.  We chose the more northerly of the two, as it was less of a thoroughfare, and had lovely flower gardens on its eastern flank.

Aram led the way, for most of our four-mile loop.

We got to the crossroads and decided to enjoy the valley, and its groves of trees, rather than push upwards to the peak of Iron Mountain.  It’ll be there for future visits.

As you can see, the boulders speak volumes.

Here are the groves which captivated me.

Then again, there is no escaping the magic of SoCal’s flower gardens.

As I would see on Monday, at Crystal Cove, flowers can thrive just fine on their own, as well.

Son and I went back to San Diego and enjoyed quality Italian cuisine at  the lively Trattoria Fantastica.  I spent a restful night at Day’s Inn, ignoring the occasional train.

In part II of this account, we look at Coronado Island.