The Route to Hollywood

Heading South on Highway 1 somewhere in Orange County along the California Coast.

Hollywood is about 150 miles from San Diego... if you take Interstate 5 north all the way up there. And although I don't mind the occassional on & off freeway trips, a hundred miles or so on a Vespa Et4 is too much for me. As I planned our route, I thought of the beautiful coastal roads along San Diego and Orange counties. The photo opportunities abound... if you stop long enough to take a thoughtful picture. As it turned out, my girlfriend took most of the coastal pictures as we headed back home from Hollywood - I left the camera in the top box on the trip North - my thoughts were on getting a feel for the Vespa's long distance capabilities; my ears were tuned to every little gurgle; feathering the throttle to get every little bit out of her; keeping a close eye on the mirrors, cars in front, back, side, etc... Back to the route...

Since we left in the early afternoon, I decided to take the 5 freeway all the way north through Camp Pendleton. The marine base sits on the coast smack between San Diego and Orange counties. The only way through it is via Interstate 5.

The ride through San Diego County was characterized by short, fast runs of a few miles and stop & go traffic commuters moving 20 - 40 mph - no problem. Just past Oceanside, the traffic took off and the little Vespa 150 motor struggled to keep up. A stiff headwind, two-up weight, and a gradual climb through the coastal ranges kept us between 55 and 60mph nearly the entire 10 or so miles to San Clemente. More than once, California highway patrolmen paced me... but never pulled me over. At a minimum, the Vespa held the speed limit - for tractor-trailors.

Once we passed the marine base, we stopped for gas in San Jaun Capistrano. As I was filling the tank, (took all of 2 minutes), the attendent met us at the pump with a very determined look in his eyes,
"Couldn't help but admire the Vespa. You guys from around here?"
"No, we just came up from San Diego", I replied.
He thought a moment, mouth agape and arms akimbo.
"San Diego?" "How fast will that thing do? What size motor is it anyway?"
I explained that the 150 Vespa Et4 was freeway legal, although it does struggle to meet freeway speeds. He told me his 'Vespa story' from years ago, and shared his enthusiasm for the modern models. He insisted that we take his phone number, call his wife, and confirm Vespa suitability for urban commuting. This wouldn't be the last conversation initiated by the Vespa.
Vespa of Newport Beach, one of the beach cities we passed through on Highway 1.

From San Jaun Capistrano's El Camino Real, we headed north onto Highway 1. This fabled coastal road isn't really a highway at all. It is characterized by coastal stretches of several fast miles and punctuated by stoplights through the so-called beach towns. Some of the names are well known like Redondo, Santa Monica, Newport, Hermosa, etc. and all are quite beautiful if expensive communities. In spite of the gargantuan Los Angeles on their doorstep, the beach towns have maintained an identity apart from their giant neighbor.

The California coast in late afternoon.

Long Beach has been, as long as I remember it having lived there in the early 80's, an eyesore. Imagine the dissapointment of having just traveled through the beautiful and swank beach cities and abruptly being presented with an industrial wasteland. Petrochemical plants stretch from the coast and inland several miles, placing an ugly scab on an otherwise lovely land. The smell was nearly unbearable. I'm sure the residents get used to it, but I almost wished I were in a car to escape from the odor of multi-dozen oil plants burning their sulfurous mixures.
Coastal Eyesore.

Once through Long Beach, the scenary quickly beautifies and we scootered through Hermosa Beach, Redondo Beach, and Manhatten Beach before arriving at out hotel in Santa Monica. It was a long ride up from San Deigo. We left San DIego at about 3:30pm and arrived at Santa Monica at 8:00 for a total of 150 miles in four and a half hours. Of course, we could have shortened the ride by taking the highway all the way up, but that misses the point. Truly, the destination is only an excuse for the journey... at least this time. In the meantime, we needed to recover overnight from what can only be described as monkeybutt.

My sweetheart at the Santa Monica Travelodge.