San Diego, CA - Barefoot in the Park

A 2-fer day today: farmer’s market & historic battle site. We’ve left the Farmer’s Market, full after our Strawberry/Cream Cheese Danish and coffee and ready to explore. Up to Escondido to the San Pasqual Battlefield.

Here’s the lo-o-ong story (skip the next 3 paragraphs in fuscia to get to the short story): It’s 1846 and the Americans are feeling their oats fueled by a good dose of ‘Manifest Destiny.’ Brigadier General Stephen Kearny with Kit Carson as his guide was heading west with his troops to take California away from the Mexicans. Coming across the deserts of Arizona and then the mountains of Southern California, they were exhausted, hungry, sick from lack of water and drinking poor river water and not ready to fight. Unfortunately, there was a force of Californios (Mexicans who lived and owned land in Califonia, ready to meet them and contest their march. They met at this battlefield.

It rained and the gunpowder of the Americans got wet so they had only 3’sabres to match the 10’ lances of the Mexicans and lost the battle. At night, the Americans buried their dead, bound up their wounded and then tried to continue on only to be met by the Californios at Mule Hill, a short ways down the road. (There are disagreements among historians about where the actual Mule Hill is.) They called it Mule Hill because their pack mules were the only source of food. That night Kit Carson and 2 others slipped out to get to San Diego where an American navy was waiting for them. They started sliding down Mule Hill on the loose scree which composed the slope. Soon, they realized that their boots were causing a lot of noise so they took them off and tucked them under their belts. They also left their noisy metal canteens behind. They reached the first sentry line and snuck through. At the second one, a young Californio took his time lighting his cigarette and smoked it to the end right above the 3 men lying prone on the rocks.

When he finished his cagarette, he left and the 3 realized that they had lost their boots. Now, barefoot, they scrambled the 40 miles of desert through cactus without water or food to San Diego, got relief troops and the Californios melted in the night and the American troops were saved. 1 of the men was so spent from the trip that he were in the infirmary for a month, 1 died shortly afterwards. Kit Carson’s feet were so lacerated from all the cactus spines that he couldn’t walk for a week but he became the hero of legends.

Here’s the short story: There was a battle here that the American’s won which helped them get California for the United States. There you go.

We arrived at the Visitor Center, watched a short film and explored the exhibits. Here’s a prototype of the lance that the Californios used against the 3’ sabres of the Americans.

We liked the stained glass windows showing both sides of the conflict.

against those 10’ lances.

Afterwards we took the short nature trail to the top of the hill behind the VC and tried to imagine the battle here. But, it was a great view over the agricultural land around here.

Next we headed over to Mule Hill. Lots of cars were in the area and a water station under a tent. Hmm. Sure enough it was the 50-mile race from San Diego to the battlefield site. They had started before dawn and it was about 3:30 now and they had 10 miles left to go from where we were. Tired? Hardly describes it. But they were moving on. We saw quite a few of the runners. Do they look tired? Remember they’ve gone 40miles at this point - but, after I took this picture they picked up the pace and began a slow run until they were out of our sight.

We also saw Mule Hill - ummm, no scree on this hill so I agree with the historians, this is probably not the Mule Hill in the battle description. Pretty short hill, too and, I imagine difficult to defend.

We walked along the walking biking trail for a while, trying to keep out of the way of the racers.
We also saw these guys working hard out in the field, trying to get our fruits and vegetables to us. We have seen hundreds of farm laborers over our time in the Southwest - extremely diligent workers doing a hard job.

We’ve seen lots of agricultural crops in our time in the Southwest and often do not recognize them. I recognize them in the stores but, in the field, I’m clueless. Check out this crop:

Got it? Do you recognize it? Nope - well, you’re OK, it’s a weed - we decided that it was between the crop rows not one of the crop rows.

We finally turned around as it was turning dark. We still were seeing lots of the racers. Many had on head lamps, knowing that their last 10 miles were going to be in the dark. They started in the dark with their head lamps, now they’re going to end with their headlamps in the dark.

Farmer’s Market, Historic Battlefield, watching the end of a 50-mile race - I’m tired (luckily I’m not racing - though after 40 miles, ‘racing’ is hardly the word for me.)

‘Did you know that if you put a raisin into a glass of champagne, it will keep rising to the top and sinking to the bottom and then rising to the top and sinking again?’