First let me say, that as much as we all love getting away on a fun time with The Dear Daddy, I hate his driving. I hate it. It makes me nuts. Slow lane. All the time. Not even a thought of going 1/10th of a mile over the speed limit. More often than not, a few miles less. Who is this man? Surely not the big scary looking mustache clad Harley riding biker dude I was dating all those years ago. (Whom, by the way, my friend Ann is still scared silly to lay eyes upon!) Yep. It's still him. The same ol' guy. (And yes Ann, he does still look scary, but only until he smiles!) Even back then he was safety conscious. And now, I think he's trying to exponentially offset my inner speed demon by proxy and try to win a few points for me from The Big Man Upstairs. I have a lead foot. I hate being behind the slow car. He drives like an old lady. A very old, old lady. It makes me nuts.
To his credit, in all the years we've been together, I have never had a single experience where I've called to tell him where I am lost, describe a few landmarks, and where I'm trying to get to that he has not been able to tell me exactly where to turn, how far to go, and what to do once I arrived. Never. Not once. LA is a huge area. He knows it like the back of his hand. As well as surrounding areas like Kern, Orange County, Ventura, San Bernardino and Riverside Counties. Every time we take a trip to places like Big Bear and Mammoth Lakes, old worn out town in Nevada, wherever, he knows obscure little back roads with no signs, and which ones to turn down to see something wonderful. So I guess as long as he's behind the wheel, I will deal with his matronly ways. Even if it does make me nuts! You know that car you've been stuck behind for twenty minutes trying to turn left? You know the car. The one that has had fifty opportunities to turn but hasn't because that speck on the horizon might be an approaching car? Yep...he's that guy! And it makes me nuts!
Okay...so back into the van to get to Travel Town. All we wound up doing in travel town was riding horses, but the kids thought it was worth the trip. After all, to get from where we were in West LA, the Dear Daddy drove through Bel Air, Beverly Hills and Hollywood. At the end of the day, both of The Littles said the best part was when they got to see the Hollywood sign through a murky din of smog. Goofy kids!
Petting the mules. 
This distressed look is due to the bumping! 
Once they rounded the bend, she found her seat and it was smooth sailing from there! 
The track is very pretty. If you look closely, you can see The Pod on the second horse and The Girlie on the third. 
The Train Museum is up next!
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