Carmel, the genteel Californian coastal resort whose people are so polite, has no rules of precedence at junctions and no road markings. Instead they have ‘all way crossings.’ Anywhere else this would be a game of dare, but here it’s all “you go first…”, “No, you go first…”
In this way, a single pedestrian crossing the road can bring the town to a standstill, interrupting the townsfolk’s everyday activities- the acquisition of fine art and sculptures, sumptuous dining (all the restaurants are good), pedigree dog walking, golfing at the exclusive Pebble Beach, etc. Hard to believe that gun slingin’ Clint Eastwood was once the Mayor. Harder still to believe that a permit was once required for the wearing of high heels on the street (in case you fell over and sued the council).
It was so genteel and polite in Jack London’s Bar that we were getting bored and were about to retire to bed early. That’s when Bixby trotted into the bar, her human Michael in tow. Bixby and Michael have been on the road pedalling across America for two years now, raising awareness for rescue dogs like Bixby herself, the pair crossing over thirty states, though not necessarily in a geographically sensible order. The following day they were heading down the Pacific Coast Highway (Highway One) for the mountainous wilderness of Big Sur and, in particular, the Bixby Bridge. But tonight’s preparation and reward was beer and stories, while the pampered pets of canine-friendly Carmel and their owners slept soundly on the softest of sheets.
Footnote: Bixby and Michael made it to Big Sur the next day.
Follow Bixby’s cycling odyssey at wheresbixby.com.
Entered for the Daily Post photo challenge Reward.
Pictures by kathryn_mcc.