Tag Archives: Yuma

The Road to Diamond, Day 102: Ever Magical

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 10, 2025, San Diego- The first sight, when I opened the door in Yuma this morning, was of six splendid palm trees, in front of a Denny’s Restaurant that is being remodeled. The sight of these iconic signs of the tropics, at that early dawn hour, lent a magical tone to the waking time.

It was like that, across I-8. Though the scenery was not spectacular-mostly sand, to varying depths and heights of dune, followed by irrigated fields in the Imperial Valley and barren foothills of the Laguna Mountains, there was a sense that only good things were afoot. People were waved through two Border Patrol checkpoints and traffic, even in the eastern suburbs of San Diego, was fairly negligible.

Here in Ocean Beach, the ambiance was for relaxation. I will have several business items, both digital and real time, to tend while here, yet there is no outrageous urgency. The tide came in, as the sun was setting, and there were dozens of people romping in the surf, along with a dozen or so on Boogie Boards. The wharf is closed, due to structural weakness, so the top of the stairs is taking on prime lookout duties. One could go over to the jetty at Dog Beach, but that is for maybe tomorrow or Wednesday afternoon.

Along Newport Avenue, there were huge bubbles from someone’s random machine and children squealing and shouting with delight. Che and Chloe are still serving up heavenly pizza, and light meals, to cook in Samesun Hostel’s kitchen, are available in Krisp- across the street. I simply get a real sense of how a community best works, walking around OB. Both residents and visitors seem to flow well together. It is, in a real sense, everyone’s little town, in the midst of sprawling San Diego.

That is what has drawn me here, for the past four years.

Through A Winter Wonderland to A Big Rainbow House

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

December 12, 2022, San Diego-

It’s always a pleasant scene, in Pine Valley, CA.

After a blissful sleep, with my spirit operating on another level, while the body enjoyed complete rest, I left the well-furnished microhotel, known as Palms Inn, took a nice breakfast at Space Age Restaurant and bid farewell to Gila Bend. Friends in Yuma were busy, so I blazed on to Pine Valley and Major’s Diner, enjoying a winter scene from Jacumba to near Alpine. The above Merry Christmas whiteness is in front of Major’s.

A scant hour later, I was at this gem of a hostel.

Samesun Hostel, Ocean Beach

Samesun(pronounced same sun) is everything implied by the name. The mostly young crowd welcomes all, honours each person’s space (as I write this paean, two groups are enjoying one another’s company, and when I am ready to rejoin them, there will be room.) Part of this is the vibe of Ocean Beach, which I last visited in November, 1980, before Penny and I met. I remembered how well people got along here, in front of one of San Diego County’s nicest surfing beaches. Having felt tension at the last hostel where I stayed, a mostly older male facility downtown, on my last visit, it was just time to seek a younger and more tolerant vibe.

Here it is: The big rainbow house, called Samesun.

San Diego’s largest peace sign, at Samesun Hostel

A new friend named Johnny, from Chicago, said he chose the hostel after seeing this icon, after arriving here from a Venice, CA weekend. Johnny and I talked of the Grateful Dead and the Doors, for a while, then I headed to the surf show-just down the street.

A lone woman surfer tries her Ocean Beach luck.
Incoming tide at Ocean Beach
Gulls gather together, for comfort.
The surf, agitated by this latest storm, Ocean Beach.
More majestic surf, bathes the rocks, at Ocean Beach.
Rear view of a breaker, Ocean Beach.
Lone male surfer, who rode five waves while I was on the pier.

Realizing that I needed to move my car from the commercial zone, I bid both of the surfers well and headed back. Once Sportage was safely in a space near a church, I came back to the hostel and saw this:

Affirmation, at Samesun Hostel.

So does Ocean Beach join Little Italy, Old Town San Diego and La Jolla, as a welcoming place in one of my favourite large cities. So does Che and Chloe’s Pizzeria, where Chloe herself welcomed me, cheerfully, this evening, join Harbor Breakfast and Filippi’s, as a staple of any San Diego sojourn. I will have much to ponder, this evening, but in a good way and in excellent company, by a warm bonfire pan-a Southern California standby.

All In Good Time

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Posted by on in Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

November 7, 2021, San Diego- There are times when even with the best intentions, one gets behind the eight ball, and misses out on something of fair importance. This morning, preparing for a short trip out to this third hometown of mine led to my arriving late for a spiritual gathering, honouring the Birth of Baha’u’llah. Nonetheless, there was a warm welcome, great conversation and a fine meal. The Blessed Beauty (one of Baha’u’llah’s titles) has long seen to my well-being, and was no doubt watching over this one, from His place in the Unseen Realm.

Leaving Prescott around 2 p.m., I made a beeline, of sorts, for Yuma. The mission was to spend some time with old friends, and to receive their generous gift of Baha’i literature. The choice of books was mine, and I was thus able to retrieve some treasured volumes by the late humourist and radio personality, William Sears. He spent several years in the Philadelphia area, as well as in the South, in Hawai’i, and several more in southern Africa, in service to our Faith. His take on spiritual matters is always refreshing and often light-hearted, but reverent.

My friends treated me to a light, but satisfying meal, at a place called El Buen Taquito, on Yuma’s south side. It is still possible to get a delectable dinner, in a “Mom and Pop” establishment, for under ten dollars. After coffee and further conversation, I left my friends and headed due west. A brief stop in the town of Ocotillo, for another cup of java, put me on track and arrival here, at the Pacific Hotel, on the northern edge of Little Italy, was achieved by 10:30. After a slight mix-up, with regard to which room was actually unoccupied, I am now in my home for the next three days.

It’s time to revisit some old haunts, starting tomorrow.