11 August - Denny's

I could humorously state that I have not journaled for some time due to the fact that the travelers on the 10 Passageway kept our band immobile for days.  But, in truth, we found our way out of Los Angeles within several hours.

Little Pomp, perched to see out of Jeep's windows, tested his English reading skills upon the marker signs as we passed.  Most of the settlements had Spanish names as would be expected.  El Monte, San Fernando, San Gabriel, and then San Dimas.  Jean Baptise was especially interested in San Dimas as we approached. He asked of Clark if we might stop in that township.  All of us hungry, the decision was unanimous.

With our coyote meat long since eaten, Clark eyed an eatery called "Denny's."  I have always enjoyed restaurants named for their proprietors.  I have noted they serve the best and freshest of local food.

As we entered the eatery, Little Pomp was immediately drawn to a glass booth with toys inside.  He smudged the pane with his nose as he searched around for some way to open the device.  Sacagawea pulled him away from the booth as the boy pouted.  At this moment, a lovely young lady with brunette hair pulled back from her face offered to seat us.  Her cordial greeting was a sure sign she must be Denny's daughter.

We were seated in a long, soft bench and handed large, colorful menus.  Clark snarled he was unhappy with the brightness of the eatery, being used to eating with the natural light of the sun for so long.  As we all mulled over the menu, we realized we were not familiar with most of the local foods.  Pancake Puppies, French Fries (of which Jean Baptise insisted were not from France) and their specialty, something called a "Grand Slam."  Indeed, they offered so many different dishes of the "Slam" that I felt inclined to request it.

A slender boy with unkempt hair and metal faceted to his teeth (obviously Denny's son) approached us and asked if we wanted to "start with drinks."  When his attention had fully fallen upon us, Son of Denny's eyes widened and a grin crossed his face.  I will quote the boy as best I can for I cannot fully decipher his tongue.  "Dude, Bill and Ted, right?  Party On!"  He then began imitating what was, perhaps, a banjo?  The boy was greatly amused by us as we looked quizzically upon his antics.  He called over a dark skinned boy who joined in the laughter.  He also imitated the banjo, which made more sense to me as the banjo's origins were from Africa.  The two stated they were enamored by our costumes (as if we were theatre performers?) and welcomed us to San Dimas.  The Son of Denny (who wore the name "Jeff" upon his chest) took our orders and departed.

Allowing ourselves to shake off the earlier incident, Sacagawea inquired of her husband the reason for his insistence on stopping in the township of San Dimas.  His eyes grew with excitement.  A fellow explorer, Juan Bautista De Anza founded this village upon his sanctioned travel through the Spanish Territory.  Not unlike our enlistment to do so at the request of President Jefferson through the Louisiana Territory.  Jean Baptise had spent some time with Juan Bautista some years passed and wished to see if he could locate his friend once more.  As our plates with King Henry the VIII sized proportions arrived, we pondered the course of which we might follow to find the Spanish explorer.

Until Later, My Friends