30 June - Santa Monica Pier

Having traveled from Oregon through the Spanish Territory, Clark and I have arrived in what is known as "Los Angeles."  Clearly a name given to the township by the Spanish.  I am told it means "The Angels."  Unfortunately, Sacagawea only translates various indigenous nations speech, and her husband can only offer us his Canadian French.

This stop is part of our journey through the Southern most part of the Spanish Territory as we return to St. Charles, Missouri.

Our band first discovered what is called the "Santa Monica Pier."  While in the Pacific Northwest, we searched for a route to Asia for trading.  So when we learned about a pier, we felt we had finally discovered what we were looking for.

Truly I can say the spectacle of the pier rivaled any I had ever scene.  My first impression was we must be in France, due to the whimsical colors.  Games, rides and eateries proved to have a positive effect on the visitors.  When Clark and I saw the towering wheel above us, well, you simply cannot keep two explorers from exploring.

We were escorted into a bench built for two adults, and then a bar from above us was moved down to our laps.  The young, dark skinned man told us it was a safety measure.  However, it was not until the mechanical contraption  began to move that the amazing beauty found our eyes.

Lifted into the fresh sea air, we were hoisted above the ground to where the entire coastline became visible.  Atop the magical beast, we looked below and Clark exclaimed:  "I can see our wagons from here!"  Indeed, a breath taking sight.

I will say I was a bit distracted by the flashing colored lights about me.  However, the joyous music much made up for that.  It sounded a bit like a harpsichord but with more liveliness.  Later I did try to find the musician responsible for the tune, but, alas, the dark skinned man said the gentleman was not about.

I must admit that my stomach did jump a bit as we followed the circular path around and around.  I have spent years on rugged terrain atop a horse and never felt so uncomfortable in travel.

I wish to write pages and pages more.  However, Sacagawea is hungry.  She has heard marvelous reviews of an eatery known as "Hooters."

More tomorrow, my friends, as the expedition continues.