Even though I lean toward the redneck side of life (surprise!) and as a result may appear to be a rube to some urban dwelling folk, I negotiate big city traffic fairly well for an amateur Apparently on this last trip I was doing well enough to fool the locals as evidenced by the fact that on two separate occasions people asked me for directions. This was in spite of the Arizona license plate on the Jeep.
Well, we rolled into Burbank without incident and had no real problem locating Olive Avenue. Of course locating our motel, the Safari Inn, on Olive Avenue was another matter.
As it turned out there was a festival and parade on Olive Avenue, which resulted in street closure. Well, after touring the lovely tree shaded neighborhoods of historic Burbank for most of an hour in a valiant but futile effort to find another way to access the motel, we decided to head for Auto Books – Aero Books even though it was still several hours before the scheduled start of the Road Trip Day event.
An hour or so before the commencement of festivities we learned that Olive Avenue was open and made a mad dash to the motel in the hope of catching a shower as well as to avoid trying to figure out the complexities of checking in after a nineteen hour day. Then we met the desk clerk, a charming elderly gentleman who was knowledgeable and helpful as well as incredibly long winded. Apparently he was also stymied by the mysteries of replacing a printer cartridge.
We arrived at the signing with minutes to spare. It is always a pleasure to meet with fans of the double six that have been inspired to be adventuresome by something I wrote but on this particular evening Miss Penny Black proved to be the highlight of the evening.
Even though the signing kicked off at 4:00 the real festivities were set for 6:00. This allowed us just enough time for a quick but intriguing wrap from Urban Eats just up the street on Magnolia Boulevard.
I am unsure exactly what was consumed but do know it had fresh, whole asparagus, mushrooms, grilled chicken breast, Greek olives, onions, avocado, tomato, and an interesting but unidentifiable sauce. Washing it down with a Mexican Coca Cola in a big cold glass bottle seemed to enhance the flavors. Perhaps that was due in part to the fact that my last Coke was in Amarillo when we had dinner with Bob Lile last October.
Even though conversation among the attending authors was lively I found myself drawn to discussions about the ridge route with Harrison Scott. I was mesmerized and entranced by stories about this roads history and development, as well as his recent adventure over this historic highway in a Model T, and deeply saddened by his tales of working in Watts for more than thirty years.
Even though we were long past weary, we took the time to stop at a most pleasant neighborhood market near the corner of Magnolia Boulevard and Buena Vista for a few late night snacks and mango tea. And, of course, we took time to photograph the motels beautiful neon sign.
With eager anticipation for the day to come, we snuggled into our quiet refuge and with dreams of adventure on the double six dancing in our head, slept the night away.
