You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant

We had made arrangements with Zach to meet us at Alice's Restaurant, and that's exactly what we did. After some aborted early morning visits by Jay, Jen & Rich's adorable almost-2-year-old (who loves motorcycles, the louder the better!), we got up and had some coffee with Bruce, who would be joining us at Alice's. Jen took Jay in their jeep, and Zina and I took the Toyota. Rich and Bruce rode their BMWs. The road to Alice's is a wonderful curvy romp across a ridge running parallel to the ocean. Alice's Restaurant is, for this reason, a popular place with motorcyclists. The reason that certain venues become popular with motorcyclists are few: tolerance by the management is the main key since we are often a loud and animated bunch of enthusiasts. This explains how certain bars become biker hangouts. In more out-of-the-way areas, the quality of the roads leading to the venue is the main deciding factor for the adoption of a place. We communicate between ourselves based on the satisfaction we receive: the challenge of a road or the beauty of the scenery causes us to value certain byways more highly than others.

If there happens to be a culinary establishment in the proximity of these valued roads, we often choose to congregate there because eating is second only to riding for establishing a sense of satisfaction. Alice's manages to encompass all of these reasons: in fact, there is a small motorcycle shop attached to the restaurant. Quite frankly, the food is good, but not great. The coffee is passable, as is the service... and if that is particularly important in your choice of destinations, you're just not a real biker for none of these things can overshadow the quality of the ride.

Beach Blanket Bingo, anyone?

After we had our breakfast, we all said goodbye, and headed our own ways. Jen went home with Jay, Rich and Bruce went onward to the San Mateo fairgrounds for a motorcycle show, and Zina, Zach and I loaded into the car and went to the beach for a hike. This sounded to me like a great idea, with visions of Dick Dale and surfboards dancing in my head. This wasn't a very accurate idea particularly it's November and the weather is too cold for wet play on the beach. Also, the surf scene is really more of a Southern California phenomenon.

We arrived and walked out onto the beach. It was verging on cold, and quite raw with a strong wind blowing in from the North. We set out walking and chatting. I was pretty surprised to see that the surf wasn't all that big -- in fact, no bigger than surf on the East coast. After an hour or so, and not until Zina had chased an insect into knee-deep water, we returned to Zach's house for a pleasant dinner, viewed the day's photos, and retired early.

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