One Tank Gang: One Tank to the fleas?

Our friends in San Diego can rarely attend One Tank.

We took One Tank to them!

I prepared a batch of my step grandma’s peanut brittle to take with us. To hear my grandma tell it, her ancestors were using THIS recipe as they trudged westward. This batch was set in the back of my car to cool along the way. So, I guess we carried on the tradition southward.

I shall post the recipe in another post.

The drive from Los Angeles to San Diego is not a hop, skip and a jump. We had to stop along way to stretch our legs. We ran along the view point with the birds.

In hindsight, this stop at the view point was not the best of ideas. In Italy—I hear—it is considered lucky to have a bird droppings hit you. If that is the case, then I should be hitting the lotto very soon…

As a kid we’d drive to Camp Pendleton on a regular basis. We’d pass the “Las Pulgas” exit and would think, “How terrible could that place be to call it ‘the fleas’?” Thank you to the Camp Pendleton history on the Sacramento Marines site. I discovered that during the survey for San Luis Rey Mission the soldiers protecting the survey party were plagued with fleas. The insistence of the fleas overcame the beauty of the area. I knew it! How nasty could that have been?

We settled at our friend’s house for a lovely lunch of roasted vegetable soup and conversation among “Nightmare Before Christmas“ decorations and no fleas…..