Sometimes, you just need to get away. I’ve enjoyed these seven months of writing “Bats, Balls, & Burnouts” more than I ever dreamt I would, but I knew I needed to recharge and get away from it for a bit. Take how much I needed a weekend getaway and multiply it by 100 and that’s how much Barbara needed it. Her job has always been stressful and challenging, and she only has one speed when it comes to work. She can’t idle through it. Basically, her work mode is simply an On-Off switch, and “On” setting is 100 percent.

Barb hemmed and hawed about actually going with me to Sonoma, for weeks. The call of work, out in Spokane, pulled at her heavily. She vacillated between “I absolutely will go with you” to “I’m not sure if I can go” all the way to “I just need to be in Spokane” and the options could exchange the lead position as often as every single day. Finally, she realized she needed to get away. She’d have to fly straight to Spokane on Monday, but she needed to get away.

We also debated what we were going to do each day, before we left. There’s always wine tasting, and that’s usually what we do with any free day around Sonoma or Napa. So, because that’s what we usually do, we decided against it. We committed to a fun day-trip around northern California, with visits to the Redwood forest and Bodega Bay, being part of our Sunday. On Saturday, we’d take Vince and Mary Bienek to the race. We had a plan.

We flew out to Sacramento on Friday. Every time I’ve used Sacramento as my destination airport for the Sonoma race, it’s worked out perfectly. Oakland works, but the freeway drive up to Sonoma can be tough. San Francisco works, but the drive up and over the Golden Gate Bridge, before you even get close to Sonoma, can be a traffic nightmare as well. On a good day, the trip from Sacramento to Sonoma can happen in as little as an hour. All you need is a good day.

We landed just a little late, shortly after 1:00 Pacific Time, and then waited for our bags before waiting for the Rental Car shuttle. Once we left the lot, we headed for the freeway. Nearly three hours later, we arrived at the Best Western in Sonoma, frazzled and road weary. It was, by far, the worst traffic I’ve ever dealt with, getting to Sonoma. In many spots, you could easily walk faster.

And speaking of the gridlock, are you a “lane jumper?”  You know the description. In stop-and-go traffic there’s the guy who is constantly switching lanes, in an effort to get ahead of even just one car by jumping into the lane that’s moving, even if it’s moving ever so slowly. I decided to just stick with the middle lane, on I-80, because it gave me options if I needed them. A guy in a white Dodge was behind me from the start, as was a guy in a white Honda. Every time the lane they were in stopped, they jutted out and forced their way into a different lane. And every time traffic came to a complete halt, I’d look in my mirror and both of them were still behind me. They exerted a lot of effort to make up no ground whatsoever. The only times I changed lanes were when a big rig was directly in front of me. They don’t accelerate fast when the traffic breaks up, but also I just don’t like not being able to see what’s ahead of us. So, slow and steady for me and nonstop lane jumping for those other guys. And we all got there at the same time.

Barbara had booked a spa appointment at the nearby Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn, and we thought she’d have all sorts of time to relax before she went over there. By the time we got to Vacaville, still well short of Sonoma, it was obvious she’d have a hard time making it at all. She called the spa to cancel, but they were kind enough to push her appointment back 30 minutes, so she kept it. We still made it with just a minute to spare. We stopped at our hotel, and I checked in and took our bags to the room. She took the rental car and drove down the road to the spa at the Fairmont. I’m glad she did, because she needed something just like that.

After I got settled, I walked across the road to Whole Foods and bought some supplies for the mini-fridge in our room. When in Wine Country, cheese and crackers are kind of essential. As are fruit drinks, water, and a little wine. Plus, when I opened the mini-fridge upon my return from the store, I found a very nice bottle of white wine already in there. It was courtesy of the hotel. A nice touch.

I’ve stayed in my share of Best Westerns over the years, but I’ve never stayed in one quite like the Best Western in Sonoma. It’s just a block off the scenic square, and it’s fantastic. It’s not cheap, nothing is out there, but it’s fantastic. And it’s walking distance to most of what makes Sonoma great. If you can walk to the square, you’re in a great place.

When Barb got back, it was already close to 8:30 and we were both ravenously hungry. We strolled out of the hotel and up to the square, where we stumbled upon a place called Maya, an upscale Mexican restaurant. You won’t find Taco Bell food at Maya. I ordered the fish tacos, and they were sublime. Plus, and this was sign from above, the top-shelf margarita on the menu was called “Bob’s Margarita.” How could I not order that? It was as good as any Texas Martini we used to crave when we lived down in Austin.

Sonoma, for the record, is one of our favorite places on Earth. It’s small, it’s surrounded by some of the finest vineyards in the world, and it’s completely and utterly charming. And our friends live there. Jealous much? Oh, you bet. Just wandering around the square is wonderful, and they can walk there and do that any night they want. With both of them being in real estate, Vince even admitted he uses the square as a networking tool, stopping in various restaurants and bars to get to know the locals. Works like a charm.

Our plans were to meet Vince and Mary in the lobby of the hotel at 9:00 on Saturday morning, so we made sure we gave ourselves just enough time to have a hot breakfast at the hotel. Right at 9:00, we met my former Paintsville Hilander teammate, and his Paintsville-native wife, in the lobby and we headed for the track.

Coming into Sonoma Raceway from the north, like that, is a breeze. Almost all of the traffic is coming in off of Route 37, whether it’s from the east on the causeway from Vallejo, or from the west and the 101 Freeway. Almost no one comes down from the north. We pulled right in and, after a stop to pick up my credential and parking pass, we were walking into the track.

Vince and Mary had never attended any kind of drag race before, and while they’ve passed the race track a zillion times they’d never even been inside it. They were wide-eyed and impressed by the scope and size of the facility, and were both eager to hear a Funny Car fire up. Okay, Mary was also a bit scared, but she was eager!

We stopped at the Team Wilk pit to see Tim, Krista, and the crew and Tim came out to chat with us and welcome the two newbies to their first race. We then strolled around for a bit, to see the pro pit area, and almost immediately we stumbled onto some big tall guy with a John Force pullover on. Elon Werner said, “So, do you guys want to have a tour of the JFR pit area?” Well, of course we did. Heck, even I have never had a guided tour of the inner workings of John Force Racing.

Elon, who really is the best of the best and I’ve said that many times on this blog, showed us everything but the tuning log books (not that we could decipher any of that, anyway). We were into and out of every JFR trailer and pit area for a solid 40 minutes.

I’d already done a brief “NHRA 101” introductory class for Vince and Mary, back in the Team Wilk pit, because both of them were chock-full of smart questions, pertaining to how the car runs, how fast it goes, how much power it makes, and things like that. Elon then did the exact same thing in the JFR pit, and fortunately the two PR guys both managed to give the Bieneks the same facts. How lucky are we? After all these years, Elon and I are both finally smart enough to recite some enlightening info about Funny Cars and drag racing. Just smart enough to be dangerous.

We got back to the Wilk pit in time for the warmup, but the wind wasn’t blowing quite the right direction for Vince and Mary to get their first full-on Nitro experience. We needn’t have worried, though. The Top Fuel team pitted next to Wilk provided quite enough of the experience when they warmed up. They got a good dose. Tears were shed.

I then took our guests up to the Media Center, to meet some of my former colleagues and see what life in the PR world is all about. I could tell they enjoyed that quite a bit, and they were impressed by everyone they met. Sadly, my dear friend Kelly Topolinski didn’t attend the Sonoma race. Had she been there, my friends would’ve been even more impressed.

Finally, it was time for the first qualifying session of the day. I’d prepared for it by purchasing, in advance, four reserved seats about halfway down the main grandstand and about halfway up. I’ve always been impressed by Sonoma Raceway, and from the starting line it’s easy to feel that way. It seems like such a “big league stadium” sort of place. Well, for the record, it seems even more so when you’re sitting in the main grandstand. We were halfway up the aisle, and yet it seemed to go on forever above us.

I know Vince and Mary were wondering what it was going to be like when the Nitro cars ran. They were very attentive and engaged while we watched Pro Stock, and they thought those cars were really going fast. When the first Top Fuel dragster made a full pass, they came right up out of their seats, and the look on both of their faces was priceless. With the grandstand at Sonoma being so far from the track, thanks to the NASCAR pit lane and front straight being between the stands and the drag strip, I wasn’t sure how vivid the sensation would be. It was quite vivid. They both patted their chests and said, “I felt that as much as I heard it!”

We watched all the Top Fuel and Funny Car teams compete, and sat through a couple of quick clean-ups along the way. Both Mary and Vince were impressed by the Safety Safari, and how quickly they can clean up a big oil down, and we almost got a t-shirt from the group that entertains during those breaks. It was all fun. It was great, actually.

We cruised around a bit more, and were lucky enough to spot Sheila Cunningham over at the DSR pit. Throughout all those years when Chris Cunningham worked for the Worsham team, and then when he was with Bob Tasca and parked right next to us, Barbara and Sheila became great friends. They even went to Germany together, on a whim, once. So, being able to run into her was a great thing and lots of hugs and smiles were shared.

After that, I didn’t want to wear our Sonoma guests out, so we decided to duck out a little early so that we could get cleaned up and have a wonderful dinner. Vince had gotten us reservations at the Swiss Hotel, on the square, and as Barbara and I turned the corner from our hotel to walk over there, we timed it just perfectly and met Vince and Mary at the crosswalk.

Dinner was fabulous, and the conversation was perfect. Until last summer, I hadn’t seen Vince since the final game of our 1978 season in the Appalachian League, against the Johnson City Cardinals. Last year, we mostly reminisced and talked about playing together, our old teammates, and the little town of Painstville itself. This time, we talked a lot of drag racing but we also just talked. About anything and everything. Just like you would with great friends. Almost all of it was accompanied by much laughter. It’s as if our summer in Paintsville had just happened. That’s pretty cool. No, it’s very cool.

My sister Mary, who along with her husband Lonnie lives on Kauai in Hawaii, resides in paradise. She relishes it every day, never taking it for granted. Vince and Mary also live in paradise. And they never take it for granted. When Barbara said to me “I could live here” I didn’t hesitate to agree. I don’t think we could afford to live in Sonoma, but I could live there. If we could find a way to have a condo or time-share there, in addition to our Minnesota home, I’d jump at that in an instant. But, and this is the big “but” in the concept, we both agreed we’d need to live within walking distance of the Sonoma Square. Is that asking too much?

We said our goodbyes and promised to do it again soon. Then, Barbara and I retired to our room and got a phenomenal night’s sleep. When you do that much, and have that much fun while laughing almost constantly, it’s so good for the soul it allows you to sleep perfectly.

On Sunday, we had a rough idea of our itinerary and where we wanted to go, but we also pledged to each other that we’d be open for any diversion we came upon. Our first target, though, was the Armstrong Redwoods State Reserve, about an hour from the hotel. We drove west out of town, up through Santa Rosa and Sebastopol, to the little village of Guerneville, then up into the park. Before we even got out of the car, we were staring at some of the most beautiful trees upon which a set of human eyes could gaze. They are amazing.

The reserve is a great place, with all sorts of options for walking trails through the towering forests. We mapped out a route that was about two miles long, but I wouldn’t call what we did a hike. A hike is when you are doing it for the exercise and for the walk itself. Walking two miles in the Armstrong Reserve is an exercise in staring, touching, and admiring so many enormous trees you can barely fathom how tall and how old they are. When one of the oldest trees in the park finally came to its end, they cut a cross section of it and posted the various world events that happened while that tree was still alive. At the center of it, by the first ring, the little tag said “This Tree Germinated” and the year was listed as somewhere in the 900’s. That’s nine hundred and something. That’s old. Like REALLY old. It’s almost impossible to fathom something living that long.

We truly were strolling around in wonder of it all. If you’re ever in northern California, take the time to visit and walk around this natural treasure. It’s peaceful, it’s breathtaking, and it’s all real. I think that’s the hardest thing to get your head wrapped around. It’s all nature. It’s all so old, and the trees are so enormous. It’s beyond the scope of our normal lives so much, it all seems impossible.

Go there, if you can.

Take your time. Walk slowly. Admire the beauty of it while you also find yourself respecting it enormously. We savage this planet in so many ways, taking almost no time to think or feel concern when ruining the water, chopping down the trees, or polluting the air.

Spend a few hours with the Redwoods, and you’ll have a whole new appreciation for just how beautiful life can be. Can you tell our trip there was mind blowing? It was.

After we pulled ourselves away from the park, we headed toward the beach. The drive through that part of the state is gorgeous, and for me it’s a lot of fun. I like roads that challenge me to technically drive well enough so that if Barb is looking at her phone she won’t even notice that we driving on sharp curves, back and forth. I don’t always hit the apex just right, but it’s a fun thing when I do.

Once we got to the coast, we were just about 20 minutes from Bodega Bay, on beautiful Highway 1. I’d been there before, usually when I was doing the whole Western Swing with John Fink, and Barbara and I were both eager to get there and enjoy it for a few hours.

If you’ve never been to Bodega Bay, but are a fan of Alfred Hitchcock films, you’ve seen it. It’s the location for “The Birds” and it’s beautiful. We were both starving by the time we got there, and I spotted a nice place called The Tides alongside the road. When we parked, it hit me. I said “My gosh, I’ve been here before. When I was a scout for the Blue Jays I came over to the coast for a day, one time. I ate here.” I love deja vu.

We had a great lunch, and then strolled along the dock for a bit. For the northern coast, it was about as perfect a days as you can get. It can be really foggy in that part of the state, just like it can down in San Francisco, and if the air is wet and the breeze is strong, you can find yourself buying a cheap sweatshirt in a hurry, also just like you can in San Francisco. Del Worsham and I used to laugh about how many $20 San Francisco sweatshirts we owned, because we never remembered to take one when we’d go to the city before Sonoma.

Our visit, to Bodega Bay, was blessed with gorgeous weather. And yes, I had packed a pullover just for this day, but I forgot to put it in the car and left it in the room. No worries, though. It was perfect.

We got back in the car and drove back north for a bit, and when we came to the parking area at Portuguese Beach I said, “Do you want to go walk on the sand?” Barb definitely wanted to do that, and so we did. Because we could.

We hadn’t exactly come prepared for a beach visit (I was wearing jeans and sneakers) but what the heck. That wasn’t going to stop us. We parked the rental and walked down the sandy slope to the wide beach.

For those who have never been to a northern California beach, the truth is the sand is really coarse. It’s more like tiny pebbles, actually. And when you’re away from the water, where the tide never reaches, it can be really taxing to walk through, because you sink in so much. We took off our shoes and got down by the water as soon as we could, to walk on the more hard-packed tidal part of the beach. It was still fabulous.

Just to smell the saltwater, and feel the sand between your toes, is a wonderful thing. There were lots of people there, many with some adorable dogs, but it never felt crowded and it never felt hot. It just felt great.

We walked the full length of the beach, and said hello to all of the friendly people we passed. You could feel your batteries charging the whole time. Sometimes you just need to get away.

And sometimes you just need to take your shoes off and walk on the beach. I was so glad we stopped. I was even more glad we’d saved Sunday to do something like that. We had to get back to the real world on Monday, starting with the drive back up to Sacramento that had me stressed, but to take just one afternoon and spend it in such a gorgeous part of the country was exactly what we needed, and we were both smiling like goofy kids the whole time we were there, at the Armstrong Reserve, in Bodega Bay, on Portuguese Beach, and even in the car on those winding roads.

A day well spent. That’s what it was.

When we got back to Sonoma, we were finally hungry again after our wonderful lunch at The Tides, but we weren’t so hungry we wanted another big meal. So, the call of a Bob’s Margarita at Maya won the “What are we doing for dinner?” battle.

We walked over there and sat at the bar, splitting a plate of fantastic nachos while we sipped our martini-style drinks. And all the time, we smiled and talked about two fantastic days, in fantastic places, with wonderful friends. To see Vince and Mary again was priceless. To share my NHRA family with them was awesome. To spend two days doing such fun stuff with my lovely wife, was the best.

And, of course, we were so worried about a replay of the Friday traffic, trying to get to Sacramento, we left a full four hours before my flight, which means we left five hours before Barb’s. And you can probably guess how the traffic was. We never slowed down once. My flight was at 1:00 and we were checked in and through security by 11:00. So, we had lunch. Because we could. Now, it’s Thursday (Blog Day) and Barb has been out in Liberty Lake all week. She was going to spend the weekend there, because she has to spend all of next week there as well, but yesterday she made up her mind to come home for a few days. I applauded that decision (not literally, just mentally.)

And yes, I could live in Sonoma. I know my wife agrees. Maybe some day…

Until then, thanks again for reading. Time to get this posted and get back to “Bats, Balls, & Burnouts” I’m already three years into the Worsham era, and the memories are flowing full speed. Back to work!

Bob Wilber, at your service with a great weekend behind me.