Convince me if you can across a credibility stretch that a Santa Fe salad, one having Wal-Mart origins, even compares to traveling to Santa Fe, New Mexico. A trip getting to Santa Fe was a swirl in my morning coffee cup a few weeks ago in June while I sat idly musing on a comfy kitchen chair. This is the one at a family house in Monterey, California where I stayed a full month summer 2026. Giving my coffee cup a few extra swirls to ensure sugar granules going the right direction, I also floated my awareness granules towards a travel plan based on a few of my favorite words like possibly and perhaps and maybe.

Summertime restful days and sipping coffee at 6 a.m. are incongruous enough, so I placed my cup on the counter and also let go of New Mexico travel. Mind you, wildish tours through the south west are dreams in the good-to-last highway lane. Keep those I will while advocating this summer to select briefer travel distances and continue a decision to enjoy any ‘ol beverage from one mindful ceramic cup wherever I be. For sure, readers are current reading previous blog posts, right? Prior essays highlight shoestring travel budgets while richly claiming every spiritual morning how clearly half full or even fuller rather than half empty is your ceramic travel cup.

And accounts for why I found myself in a Los Banos Wal-Mart purchasing a $2.88 Santa Fe salad. Myself I’m the kind of writer who takes her own “advice.” What has been working these last summer weeks is traveling on a budget, fleeing California crowds, and thus cultivating relaxation. These add up to being on a momentum roll called gratitude. Maturity has some bonuses especially on thoughtful finance health being spiritual wealth when the campground day closes.

The simplistic phrase time is money has a few truthful pennies in there. Not only has the Santa Fe trip swirled onto a future travel itinerary, we also have Yosemite in a curiosity clanking. My thoughts are like pennies making symbolic noise while I shake them around in my mind. Has been true if asked a penny for your thoughts I’ll ka-ching an entire dollar’s worth. Focus though was to answer a basic question: how might I spend the only commodity I own—my precious time? On this too-early morning yet still hopeful, at some pennies of time between the hours of getting rest the night before and waking the next morning, I felt a shift in travel wondering.

What did I know about how long driving to Yosemite from Monterey might take, for real? And how many touristy hundreds of others might clamor in close proximity, making a sojourn into quiet nature feel crowded? In a new day’s promise what I heard was to be aware.

A few days before this specific too-early morning, I had been rudely reminded what Bay Area traffic can be. Sitting in my car stationary in traffic on Highway 17 enroute to Berkeley City College was not a “plan.” My planned cleverness had been to source a driving “shortcut” and enjoy the vista. Reality of California crowds was otherwise. Sure, seeing the campus happened—eventually—and also bringing our family teenager Darien to a San Francisco concert at Brick and Mortar on San Francisco’s Mission Street turned into a music jubilee for him.

Yet only after being stuck in Bay Bridge traffic—a long wait in my car with several hundred other vehicles in cozy proximity. Took us all an hour to drive a few miles. These travel experiences had me questing for places where—perhaps, possibly and maybe—the phrase time is money has a cashing-out of driving a short distance to a relaxing nature venue. Might she exist? Truly while waiting on the Bay Bridge, I heard birds chirping and smiled at the universe’s winkful reminder. Peaceful possible in any moment. Unless anyone shares this memory that I indulged while sitting stuck in traffic—an anything but peaceful encounter.

In a long-ago era, the Bay Bridge had toll booth workers. Slowing to a stop at the window, exact cash was required. And goddess-forbid should the numbers be inexact in your out-stretched hand because our toll booth operator has a life-threatening look perfected after several thousand cars traveling through her booth station. Bring me too much or too little toll payment at your own peril, she conveys having said not one word.

Just the one time when I received that stare was effective for me to absolutely, one hundred percent make sure I kept extra small bills in the car. No matter what. Stink eye avoided. Cost $1 for a while, then $3 and today the powers that be mail me an electronic “invoice” for $8.50. Today bright lights are flashing everywhere to warn: do not stop at the toll booth. Nobody in there anymore. Despite removing a stopping place serious traffic often happening on the Bay Bridge. Speedy though was the “invoice” that arrived directly to my e-mail a few hours later in the day.

Energy swirls in my coffee cup on this early travel morning then were a blend of traffic memory from a few days prior, an educated guess that Yosemite might be crowded as all heck, and mindfully aware that I didn’t have any wish to spend time or money jammed in traffic or next to crowds at my idyllic campsite. Reaching for my trusty map from last summer, I perused briefly and sourced what appeared like a lake perhaps, possibly, and maybe one hour’s drive from the kitchen chair where I sat enjoying coffee in a beautiful ceramic cup.

Let’s go there, I mumbled to a cranky teenager and a befuddled grandmother who wasn’t going anyway so she gave the plan encouragement. In this lackluster energy forcefield, I decided to linger on my coffee chair for a while longer. Even after lounging for extra time because summer warrants the choice, I was sitting happily perched on a campground chair by 8 30 a.m. and had no more travel for that day. Yet where in the sweet hell was I?

From a canvas camping chair, I was staring lazily and directly at the San Luis Reservoir. Reality is that I grew up in Monterey an hour away and have never once in decades of living nearby heard of the place. Not even on the map as far as I was concerned a few hours ago. Felt like having been served up a slice of relaxation pie baked tried and true from plenty travel experiences.

Gifted in a one-day journey there and back was a revitalized perspective on the entire state of California. Before going into why we always have basics including precisely no crowds, a California camping fee (pricey yet worthy), and a Nissan Versa that travels well on spendthrift mileage as in only need to spend thrifty dollars to go far on a full tank.

If time really is money, this time a frugality on money (and I’m never assuming what is or isn’t for anyone) matched a frugality on time spent getting there. The drive took a little over one hour from Monterey house front door to unfolding campsite chair and claiming my seat at summer’s relaxation lanai, nature’s porch where any sentient human is welcome.

Beyond basics though was complexity to learn how California’s entire irrigation system operates conduiting life’s primary source—water—to farms and families. Casually planning the day on my favorite travel adage—why the sweet hell not go there—what I hadn’t pictured during hauling a few tents and simple camping gear up and over Pacheco Pass was the Romero Visitor Center.

A state’s infrastructure seems boring summer reading at first glance yet what brings more than a few lively dance steps into my recognition is why this morning I had access to faucet drinking water at the kitchen sink. I was standing at the source at the San Luis Reservoir. Or why when I flip a light switch waking up so early this morning to go travel the electricity worked. Hydraulic power is happening at the San Luis Reservoir and I learned how the engineering functions. Defining gratitude likely means knowing who to thank.

Before all this knowledge gathering from one of happily infinite many visitor centers across the United States, I simply sat peacefully on a camping chair and stared around. On a few boats stood folks casting lines into the reservoir waters. Jet-skies whirred engine noise while flying over water. A dam was in view off in the distance so an inkling I had that the word reservoir conjured we humans making something out of what had been nothing before. Other than nature’s intricate ecosystem.

In the two or three hours meditatively sitting there, I listened to many kinds of birds. Was a free seat at a lively opera where flighty aviary divas of all sorts entertained for hours. Our family teenager joined in being peaceful and easygoing conversation was there. I brought a music trivia deck of cards and Darien knew many answers to the curiosity questions. For a later afternoon adventure, we decided to explore where people might have organized a town in proximity.

In the meantime, from this vantage point all to be seen are rolling hills of dry blonde fields in the distance. Yet a short walk close to camp is water’s ecosystem like thriving marshes, green trees, and people relaxing—just a few. Already plenty supplies I had humbly organized earlier in the day, yet a five to seven mile “road trip” qualified as right-sized learning who the inhabitants are next to this California State Park comprising hundreds of nature acreage.

And so the $2.88 Santa Fe salad made her appearance in a decorative Wal-Mart where walking into the welcome area a detailed mural portrayed Los Banos’ agricultural pride, the discovery town closest to camp. A few more nutrition items I purchased and returning to our campsite was a brief minutes-long sojourn. The day was very 95 degrees warm on California land distant from the Pacific Ocean’s cooling winds. Here are crackly prairie lands stretching visibly everywhere a curious scanning was in view and I was looking continually at hills and valleys to ask myself how is this life here? On an evening walk around one reservoir side, I learned from frequent knowledge signs posted how Native Americans harvested plants, fish, and wild animals to create seasonal homes in this area. For centuries Indigenous Peoples populated the region.

On my stroll I silently shared enthusiasm for the folks investing such effort to create these modern learning posts. Their work granted a self-guided walking tour and all I needed to bring was curiosity since acquiring knowledge this way costs zero simply to stay open and absorb. Spending my time to learn while on planned spontaneous travel always authentically a wise investment.

Now I had access to knowing clearly an answer to a long historical question, asking I have been all during my California lived experience for decades. Why does the land’s horizon have ribbons of vibrant green closely parallel to tumble-weed dry strips? Like the pennies of thoughts clanking around in my mind earlier this one day’s morning, I also now let curiosity thinking clank around any ‘ol way she wished while exercising for a few brisk walking miles on this curated San Luis Reservoir California State Park exploring path. What are the complex aqua-ducts I had seen while driving to Los Banos? Three had been substantial and where were they going and where had they derived?

Gently pocketing my curiosity questions, I prepared to rest well after my walk and enjoyed camping’s best reward—watching stars twinkle clearly through a tent mesh. Cool evening breezes floated and birds cackling still lively into late hours simply at lower decibels and chirping tonally lighter. Sleeping soundly, I woke up to no alarm clock and leisurely prepared coffee on a minimal camping propane “stove.” Took a brief time afterwards to organize a few belongings for a return commute to Monterey. All of the one hour or so the driving mileage takes.

Exiting the San Luis Reservoir camping area around leisurely noon, I veered towards a briefly mountainous driving stretch wondering how to find what intuition told me blindly to go see—the Romero Visitor Center. Cars speeding alongside, I grabbed a quick look at the sign to turn left soon. Adeptly I hustled at 60 mph into the left lane and exhaled when I found space to slow and easily take the turn.

Every visitor center has unique design and nearly all exhibit creative displays to demonstrate local history, culture, language, and economy. The Romero Visitors Center focuses on the San Luis Reservoir which was now entirely before me, and where we had camped was simply a complex ecosystem offshoot. A fact I just learned standing to stare at this vast water expansivity filling nature’s holding pattern—hills, crevices, ravines, and valleys. Across all reservoirs throughout the US this one is the largest off-stream source having all water channeled, pumped, redirected, aqua-ducted, and planned for delivery.

At one time California was largely a desert in many patches across the state. What I saw in the Romero Visitors Center through interactive learning spaces inspired through videos, readings, and placards is California’s origination, being a primary agricultural state of the United States and globally. My question about those land ribbons of brightly green next to dryly yellow was answered while seeing how we humans galvanized local, state, and federal political might (dollars) and private industry.

Travel moments often change a life’s perspective. Mine radically expanded when I chose simplicity over familiar expectations. Who doesn’t wish to see Yosemite? How can anyone not find the Bay Area fascinating? Just that having been blessed with a multiplicity of privileges that I work to not take for granted, I’m able to go into unknown areas and return curiosity changed.

Remember I will that during the decades California engineers built over 700 miles of intensive, complex infrastructure to conduit life’s required, essential source: water. Turning on a faucet in my Monterey house early on this travel morning now looks entirely angled new after one day’s exploring. While spending one brief hour in the Romero Visitors Center, I pledged to return and bring a lunch for staying longer next time. And like most visitor centers, the entrance fee is entirely free.