But this is a pretty misleading photo. We were only riding a few hundred yards to the main road outside the campground.
We had to make it back into Salinas that afternoon for our train ride back home, and since it took us two and a half days to get from Salinas to Big Sur, we were going to have to take the bus back if we were going to have any chance of catching our train. The area has a pretty impressive public transportation system, and there was a bus that made the rounds through the Big Sur campgrounds and went all the way back to Monterrey. We made arrangements to catch another bus there to Salinas
While we were waiting for the bus, Aimee told me about a guy that she had just seen in the camp gift shop. Apparently he was returning a whole vienna sausage. Aimee thought, "who returns a sausage"? And before she could finish her story, she interrupted herself and pointed out, "that's him, that's him!" I turned to see a 30-something guy in a hooded sweatshirt walking towards the same bus stop that we were at.
We exchanged some polite small talk, but it didn't take him much time to go into a remarkably long-winded story about how he got in a fight with his wife while they were camping in the same park that we were. From the sound of things, this was hardly their first fight. But as far as the wife was concerned, this was their last. While he was out hiking, she packed up all of their stuff (including his wallet), and hit the road without him. He came back to find an empty campsite, no money, no cell phone, and no ID. The only thing left was a vienna sausage that he had previously bought from the camp gift shop for dinner that night. When Aimee encountered him, he was attempting to return it without a receipt to muster up some bus money.
By this point Aimee and I were doing everything we could to keep our jaws from hitting the floor. We couldn't believe that this was really happening, and that he was telling this to a couple of strangers at the bus stop!
About thirty or forty minutes into his story, a silver minivan came down the road. He squinted at it, and said, "Is that? Yeah, that's... Yep, that's my wife. Nice talking with you guys!" We got the distinct feeling that this was a monthly occurrence. He leaned against the van and talked with his wife for a while outside of our earshot. I felt a little bad taking this photo, but only a little bad. This was too good of a story.
Whatever he told her worked. He got into the van and they drove off like nothing happened.
And I made a note to always take my wallet on hikes.
-M
