81: HOG’S BREATH AND ICE CREAM IN CLINT’S CARMEL

It was the last day of July 2018 and my photographer and his wife got rolling around 7:00am on that Tuesday morning. The two of them had the car packed and we were on the road out of Hollister, California. The Mustang’s dashboard clock read 8:30am by the time we had retraced our path back to Moss Landing where we had visited a bunch of seals and other aquatic wildlife the day before. Our first scheduled stop of the day was the Monterey Bay Aquarium in the Cannery Row section of Monterey. But towards the end of our 20-mile drive from Moss Landing to the aquarium on the Pacific Coast Highway, we found several stores that featured some of Vicki’s Rae Dunn treasures.

Parking was difficult to find near the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which forced Vicki to park the Mustang about a half-mile away. During the long walk from the car to the aquarium, my photographer and his wife lollygagged in some of the Cannery Row stores and shops. It was nearly noon by the time we made our way inside the famous ‘Window to the marine life of Monterey Bay’. There were hundreds of people and a lot of kids running around, which made our aquarium experience a true test of our patience – especially for my COBS-infested photographer. Some of the exhibits were beautiful, but the highlight for the three of us was the Open Sea Wing that featured hundreds of jelly fish in a setting that resembled an underwater ballet. Tom spent a lot of time watching the purple-striped jellies, as well as the Pacific sea nettles, as they mesmerized us with their beautiful unchoreographed movements.

I had figured that we may have spent more time at the aquarium had it not been for the kids that ran amok inside the building. But after two hours of chaos, my photographer decided it was time to get out of Dodge and walk to the Ford. We wouldn’t be in the car long enough to put the top down as our next site was a little over two miles away near Point Pinos, which was at the tip of the Monterey Peninsula. At a scenic pull-off, Vicki stopped the Mustang near a medium-sized boulder that had a bronze plaque affixed to its face. Behind the rock was a piece of driftwood with the name “John Denver” etched into its surface. On October 12, 1997, singer-songwriter John Denver flew his experimental Rutan Long-EZ airplane over the ocean when suddenly the plane nose-dived into the sea near Point Pinos – killing Denver; the craft’s only occupant. Nearly ten years later, the memorial was dedicated to the popular singer who was only 53 at the time of his death. While I stayed in the camera case, my photographer snapped a few images of the memorial before the three of us walked down to the rocky shore and gazed out at the sea. For a moment, as we thought about John Denver and his music, it was almost as though I could hear the buzz of a small airplane. All of a sudden, the engine sputtered and popped – and then there was a horrible splash. The words on the plaque were from a tune called ‘Windsong’, which was written by Denver and Joe Henry. Those lyrics brought the tragedy to life for the three of us: “So welcome the wind and the wisdom she offers; Follow her summons when she calls again. In your heart and your spirit let the breezes surround you; Lift up your voice then and sing with the wind.” As tragic as Denver’s death was, it paled in comparison to the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. Richardson in 1959. Stars aren’t supposed to fall from the sky, but too many times in the past, newspaper headlines have penned their final lyrics.

From the memorial to John Denver, we headed around the Monterey Peninsula en route to Pebble Beach Golf Links; a drive that would cost us $10.50 just to cruise along the scenic 17-Mile Drive. In my mind, it was a racket; but my cheap photographer handed the money over without giving it a second thought. After all, he figured the scenery along the ocean would be well-worth the fee. And as usual, Tom was right – the ocean view was breathtaking as we drove along the coast. A few times Vicki stopped the Mustang and the three of us walked along the rocky shore as the waves crashed onto land. Even though we missed the famed Lone Cyprus, we did get a good look at a couple of golfers as they played at the Monterey Peninsula Country Club. We also got to see Spyglass Hill Golf Course, which is the sister course to Pebble Beach and is ranked fifth on Golf Digest’s list of “America’s 100 Greatest Public Courses”.

At roughly 3:15pm, I was carried under an archway that featured the words ‘Pebble Beach’. We had arrived at the first public course to be selected as the No. 1 Golf Course by Golf Digest – a distinction that happened in 2001. The first place we visited at Pebble Beach was the Pro Shop where Tom and Vicki bought some souvenirs for their son. After all, their son is a good golfer with a huge interest in the sport; and no golf course in the country has been associated with Tom Watson more than Pebble Beach. During the 1982 U.S. Open, Watson chipped-in his second shot from the rough for a birdie on the Par-3 17th hole to beat Jack Nicklaus. There was no way that we would be able to get close to that famous 17th green, but we did stand near the first tee where we saw golfers launch their golf balls down the fairway. Then after a brief visit to the clubhouse, we walked to the side of the 18th green where my photographer captured a handful of images of golfers playing Pebble Beach. Golf legends and golf history have been made at that green and it was an honor to see it in person. From my position in the camera case, I had wished that Tom could’ve placed me next to the 18th hole for a photo, but that wasn’t going to happen. Pebble Beach has always looked impressive on television; but seeing it in person brought the majestic beauty of the course to life. It had been over a dozen years since Watson had last walked the famous links when he finished tied for 19th place at the 2007 AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am. Now another Tom Watson, my history-lovin’ photographer, walked the links of the beautiful ocean-side golf course. Okay, maybe he just stood alongside the 18th green and pretended to walk the links! When we did walk back towards the clubhouse, I envisioned some of the sport’s talented golfers who had walked that same path since 1919. Players such as Bobby Jones, Ben Hogan, Sam Snead, Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus; and arguably the greatest of all-time – Tiger Woods.

We had spent a little over an hour at Pebble Beach Golf Links and it was time to find a place to spend the night. As a huge Clint Eastwood fan, my photographer wanted to stay in Carmel-By-The-Sea; an upscale town near Pebble Beach whose citizens once elected Eastwood as their mayor. Vicki went to work on her phone as she searched for hotels that fit their budget. Some of the hotels were very expensive and a few other places were not located where they wanted. Within a few minutes, however, she found the Carmel Bay Hotel, which not only met their budgetary needs, it also was within walking distance of the ocean.

Once my photographer and his wife checked in and got the car unpacked, Tom grabbed his camera bag (with me in it) and the three of us headed for dinner. My companions decided on a place that was located two blocks from the hotel. The restaurant had a catchy name, and it looked cool from the outside. It was the famed Hog’s Breath Inn, which not only featured an outdoor patio area that was decorated with a hog motif, but the place was also once owned by ‘Dirty Harry’ himself. That’s right, Clint Eastwood owned the Hog’s Breath Inn from 1972 until he sold it in 1999. The atmosphere in the restaurant was amazing and the food was excellent, at least according to Tom and Vicki. I had to laugh when the server came to our table after my photographer finished his meal and asked if he wanted dessert. Tom replied: “Go ahead, make my day!”

After he had snapped a few images inside the dining area, which included a Hog shrine to ‘Dirty Harry’, my photographer carried me back up the steps and out onto the sidewalk along San Carlos Street. From there, the three of us headed for Ocean Avenue which led us to Carmel Beach. Carmel-By-The-Sea was no doubt an upscale town, filled with numerous art galleries and expensive shops. We had figured that a lot of people who play golf at Pebble Beach likely spend time in Carmel-By-The-Sea, which is why the merchants catered to the “rich and famous”. After all, for someone to walk off the street and play 18 holes of golf at Pebble Beach, the price tag was nearly $700. That price included a caddie, of course.

It was a nine-block downhill walk to the beach and by the time we got there the twilight sky made the ocean look lackluster at best. We could see Pebble Beach Golf Links in the distance to the north; and to the south, we saw some folks as they strolled along Carmel Beach. But the scenery was not what Tom had envisioned and was definitely not worth the long hike. But as my pair of companions struggled back uphill along Ocean Avenue, my photographer changed his tune about their journey. He saw a place that sold ice cream; and he wanted some. It wasn’t because he was hungry; the dinner and dessert at the Hog’s Breath Inn had filled him. Tom wanted to eat ice cream in Carmel-By-The-Sea because in 1986 Clint Eastwood had run for mayor on a “platform of ice cream”. It turned out that several of the town’s laws upset the actor, especially the 1929 zoning law. That ridiculous legislation had banned ice cream cones from being sold and it was still in effect since the twenties. On April 8, 1986 Eastwood won the election in a land-slide vote over the incumbent mayor and soon after, the ice cream law was changed. As the three of us walked into the Carmel Bakery, the first thing we saw was a photo of Clint on the wall. In the picture from ’86, Eastwood stood at a podium as he held a tee-shirt that said ‘Victory for the People, Clint Our Mayor’. Thanks to Mayor Eastwood, my photographer and his wife walked down the sidewalk along Ocean Avenue while the ice cream from their cones melted onto their hands.

At roughly 8:30pm, we finally made it back to the hotel. The uphill walk had exhausted my elderly companions and they were fast asleep by nine. As I stood on the cabinet next to the television set, I thought about our time at the Pebble Beach golf course. I envisioned PGA Hall of Famer Tom Watson as he chipped-in for birdie on the 17th hole to win the U.S. Open in 1982. At that moment, I began to laugh to myself as I compared “my” Tom Watson to the PGA golfer Tom Watson. The golfer Watson was a perfectionist with a golf club, and he meticulously carved up the golf course with the precision of a surgeon. My photographer also carved up a course, but it was usually from throwing his clubs farther than he hit the ball. But as the great Inspector Harry Callahan once said: “A man’s got to know his limitations.”