We continued driving north along PCH.
Trying to make it to an unplanned visit to Santa Barbara.
For no other reason than just because.
We only made it to Carmel, very late in the night.
A quaint town. 200 - more or less - miles below our destination.
And unfortunately, No Vacancy signs were lit up at each, and every, resting place.
Breathing in the aroma of good food, from neighboring eateries, we enjoyed a warm meal. All the while anticipating a long ride back home.
Rather than travel along the Pacific coastline, with the view of the ocean, we decided to travel quickly down the interstate.
As the sun began to rise, I crawled into the back seat, to lie down. To sleep, while Rudy managed the road.
The bumpity bump sounds of tires crossing the dividing knobs in the road distracted my rest, and the continuous back and forth maneuvering of the car alerted me to sit up. NOW!
Rudy was falling asleep behind the wheel. Weaving in and out, unaware of what he was doing.
"Rudy!" I blurted.
He opened his eyes with a start. Looked around. Looked at me, dazed. Curious. And then his eyes popped wider than wide, realizing what was happening.
He immediately pulled over, into a rest stop, where we both slept until the sun beat down on us, prying our eyes open. Nudging us awake. Waking our senses. To get us going. To continue south. To return home.