Santa Cruz and Karen

I slept well overnight, despite not getting to "bed" until 12:30am in the heavy fog. Sadie slept well, too, and didn't bark at the soldiers walking past us early in the morning.

The blue sky and sun greeted me again, after a two-day absence.

Sandy was leaving the fitness center as I walked in, telling me she was heading out to teach swimming. I did my morning routine here, dried my hair. This i

s a wonderful fitness center which seems to cater not just to the military personnel, but to the many foreign workers at the defense Language Institure. A lot of the women around me looked Asian or European.

I took off for the Bagel Bakery, although the long line reaching the door discouraged me from eating there. The slow service has always been an issue for this place, but it never kept me from going there. By 10am I was on the road to Santa Cruz, with most of the day free until Karen would get off work at 4:30pm

Traffic was heavy going back into Monterey, but Highway 1 was light heading north, pass Moss Landing and the agricultural fields labored by Mexican farm workers, often with stately housing developments within view.

I headed for the famed boardwalk, but only stayed for 30 minutes to take photos. Sadie had to stay in the truck as the boardwalk is not dog-friendly. It was crowded enough for a Wednesday, and the screams and cheers from tween girls reminded me of the times I took my own kids here. I then continued on to the famed Pacific Avenue in town where some of the most interesting people can be seen lingering in the downtown district. Many of the older bearded men look like the 1960s and 1970s Vietnam War draft dodgers who flocked to this city when Santa Cruz was the notorious safe haven for draft dodgers. Street musicians decked out in frilly attire to the begging homeless and youngsters all could be seen here, and only the ticking parking meter kept me from staying longer. I got back to the SUV just as the parking nanny drove up behind me. My meter had already expired.

In my days of living in the Monterey Bay, I had always enjoyed coming to Santa Cruz. I liked its liberal attitude and progressive ways, but many of these same liberals were also some of the rudest people I had encountered here. On top of that, many seemed to shy away from regular personal hygiene.

I then drove back toward Karen's little cabin off Larkin Valley Road, heading south a few miles. Again I stopped at La Selva beach to watch surfers, lovers and passers-by. Sadie had no interest in the ocean and napped behind me, quite content to rest in the shade while "Mom" ventured off for more photos.

The many wetsuit-clad surfers seemed to spend more time waiting for decent waves to come ashore than they did actually surfing, and only one young man seemed successful at riding any waves.

I got to Karen's little hide-out at 3pm, with more time to wait in the shade. Instead of reading my Kindle, though, I also napped, not realizing that Karen's neighbor and landlord, Steve, had noticed me parked off-road and was worried about my suspicious vehicle parked there for so long. Karen told me later than this little road had been burglarized two years ago by a drug dealer, and Karen lost many precious items in the break-in. I don't blame Steve for being concerned.

Karen drove up at 4:20pm. That's when the hugging and smiling began. We chatted nonstop, first on her small deck overlooking a foggy bay, then later at Seascape Beach but we didn't stay long because Sadie hated the beach, then again at an upscale restaurant in Watsonville where she treated me to a very tasty Mexican meal. There was much to catch up on, from her three trips to Paris to her love for all things French (she even reads French classics in French) to her desire to spend more time in solitude than among chatty hiking mates, her love for photography and Photoshop to gourmet cooking and eating. She hasn't changed much, and her passion for all of the above is quite infectious.

Her little cabin is no more than 600 square feet, but lovingly decorated and light. I told Karen I could live in a place like this, as long as I had another 600 square feet for storage.

We chatted at first over beer with our meals, then reverted toa delicious red Soquel wine as the hours passed. It had been years since I had wine, and it wasn't until 11pm when I took Sadie outside for a pee break, than I realize I had caught a wine buzz.

Sadie was well-behaved but seemed restless in the small home. She left the cat Princess alone, and when we finally settled for the night on her couch, Sadie slept next to me on the carpet. Fog had shrouded the home as predicted, and the waning half moon lighted up the trees just enough to add mystery to the woods.