Day 12

Starting Point: West Hollywood, CA

Destination: Sonoma, CA

Miles Driven: 451

Here’s a random thought: perhaps the spiritual health of a society can be measured by the cleanliness and accessibility of its restrooms. In the smaller and more congenial towns of the Midwest most cafes, restaurants or gas stations will let you walk in and use the restroom, whether you paid for anything or not. Here on the West coast, they’re a bit more guarded. I stopped for fuel in San Jose and upon request was reluctantly given a set of keys which opened a padlocked iron gate guarding one of the grimiest, least inviting latrines I’ve witnessed thus far.

Among many unsavory details I observed this restroom lacked a mirror. Is it just me or is this becoming increasingly common? I suppose there’s a practical consideration: nobody wants the hassle of dealing with broken glass or graffiti. But maybe there’s something deeper. Maybe we as a society are increasingly afraid to look at ourselves. Maybe the latent anxiety and alienation of this late capitalist hellscape has made self-consciousness a burden; seeing ourselves reminds us not of our own unique beauty but merely the existential despair of living in a time where there is no future and God (if he exits) is but a meaningless tribal signifier…

Probably not though. More likely the mirrors don’t exist because it saves the business $50 and bathrooms are restricted because owners are scared off by the ever-increasing population of drug addicts. Thanks, junkies, for once again ruining something cool.

San Jose was a stop along my roughly 8-hour journey from L.A. to Sonoma, California – just North of San Francisco. Most GPS apps will tell you to take the I-5, but that drive is honestly quite boring. Instead I took Highway 101, which adds an hour or two but is dramatically more scenic.

My route served up a nice sampler plate of California geography. Pulling out of the urban sprawl of L.A. I was treated to the Pacific coastline of Ventura before cutting North into Los Padres National Forest and its mountainous terrain. I was then dumped inland through Cali’s agricultural heartland where fields of strawberries and lettuce and all manner of produce stretch as far as the eye can see. Finally I ground my way through the gridlocked San Francisco traffic before landing in Sonoma, just North of the bay.

I did make a little stop along the way. I had heard good things about a town called San Luis Obispo (nicknamed “Slo,” I later learned) so I set aside a couple hours to check it out. This cute little tourist town boasts a good deal of historic architecture from its early days as a Spanish mission. Its downtown hub offers a healthy variety of shops, restaurants, beauty parlors, etc. Basically just a fun place to spend a weekend or just an afternoon.

One local curiosity I had to check out was the bizarre and striking Dorn Pyramid. This 113-year-old, two-story structure sits atop the San Luis Cemetery. At first it seems like the work of an egomaniacal eccentric, but the actual story is quite tragic. It was built by Freemason named Fred Dorn to house the bodies of his wife and infant son, who died within days of each other. Since then it’s become a piece of local lore and an unofficial city monument.

Also, given the pro-motel theme of this trip, I had no choice but to visit the famed Motel Inn, the first actual motel in the world. It was built in 1921 to accommodate travelers commuting between L.A. and San Francisco. Back then – given the poor quality of roads and lower-horsepower automobiles – that journey was almost always a two-day journey, so this new concept for hospitality allowed motorists to crash at what’s more or less the perfect halfway point.

Tragically, the motel closed for good in 1991 and most of its buildings were demolished in 2006. I wish that wasn’t the case; I would have loved to have stayed there if only for the novelty.

But alas, I would not trade any motel for the accommodations I have at the moment. I’m staying with my old friend Patrick and his partner Amber. They live on the outskirts of Sonoma, a quiet rural town nestled in the heart of wine country.

I’ll write more about Sonoma soon, but for now let me take the opportunity to thank Patrick by plugging his fantastic and wide-ranging body of music. I’ve known the man for years and have always admired his songwriting as well as his independent, uncompromising attitude toward art. Right now he has new releases from his power-pop project Tabor Mountain as well as his post-industrial noise duo Diesel Dudes. Do yourself a favor and check both of them out; it makes for great listening on the road, or anywhere else.