This continues the letter dated 20 August 1965, which began:
Monday 23rd August
Morro Bay, California
Last night we were just about getting ready to go to bed when a car came trundling across the desert and it turned out to be the cops, who advised us that to spend the night in the desert would be very foolish, as the town a few miles away was a big railroad junction, and many fugitives passed through on freight trains.
He said if we stayed it was at our own risk, so needless to say we drove into the town and parked at the back of the Volkswagen agents’ place, and were up and ready before they opened up this morning.
They soon found the trouble on the van – a cracked spark plug, With a new set of plugs we were soon on our way once more – across the northern part of the Mojave Desert and on to a town called Bakersfield on the Route 46, and down to a place called Morro Bay where we got our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean.
We are, at present, parked about 20 yards from the sea, where we plan to spend the night. It’s very chilly down here on the beach which is very refreshing after the blistering heat of the day.
As we crossed the Sierra Nevada range of mountains and dropped down to the lowlands we saw hundreds of oil wells, all clanking away slowly, and what must have been millions of acres of fruit crops. We also saw lots of cotton which surprised me as I didn’t realise they grew it here.
Tomorrow we shall head on up the coast road, Route 1, towards San Francisco, but we shall stop en route at any nice beaches we may see.
To be continued…
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