Day Three: Walking the shoreline of Pacific Grove

Karen and I both got up early.  The trees darken the incoming light though, and I didn't get up until 6:30am.  Karen got up to feed the birds and then  four deer she says come by every morning for their cracked corn.  Zeke was fascinated by the deer, but the deer weren't too thrilled with his presence.

After breakfast of coffee and spinach omelette, I drove us 32 miles south to Pacific Grove.  Karen can't hike anymore.  Pneumonia from two years ago and a recent sprained knee keep her on pavement.  She can't handle uneven surfaces.  So I agreed with her that we should just walk the shoretrail from Lover's Point to Asilomar and back (around eight miles along a shore trail and the road).  That is what we did.  When I lived in Pacific Grove 1996-2000, I often jogged or walked this scenic trail.  It brings back fond memories.

And it was busy!

Zeke was not in the best of conditions.  I think the heavy harness was weighing him down.  He seemed to feel much better with the harness off.  This was his first visit to the ocean, too, and was a little apprehensive of the waves.  At Asilomar beach I took him off leash to romp in the water with the other dogs.  Signs said dogs were allowed at the beach  but had to be leashed.  No one paid any attention to that. Karen watched us from the boardwalk and took pictures of us.

 

We walked for almost five hours, taking a break at the Asilomar Conference Center outside 17-Mile Drive.  The shade did Zeke some good.  Then it was back the way we came, driving back to Watsonville and stopping at The Whole Enchilada, an upscale restaurant in Moss Landing right off US Hwy 1.  It wasn't very busy but we were told it was a half-hour wait.  Karen and I opted to sit at the bar, right in front of the hostess stand, until we were called.  I had two Mad Otter Ales, she had two margaritas.  The bar tender hustled.  When we checked on our table 45 minutes later, the hostess said she had been calling our name outside where many others were waiting, but never checked at the bar.  What?  We were annoyed at that oversight, especially since I had asked her earlier if we could sit at the bar and have a few drinks because it was too chilly outside. The hostess stand is right in front of the small bar!

The second blow was that the restaurant was out of salsa.  No salsa?  Our waiter, a fast-talking stocky man with a long ponytail, said we could order tomatillo sauce with the chips we got as a "starter," meaning we would have to pay for the sauce.    Mexican food with no salsa seems bland, and Karen did not eat her tomales.  "This is tasteless" she commented, as she pushed her plate away.

The place was never crowded, but it was busy.  We both felt we were lied to about the long wait, the lack of salsa, and the portion size. I guess we won't be eating at this place ever again!