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Squeezing in one more beach vibration

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Times Staff Writer

Here along the Southern California coast, beach season arrives slowly, then seems to disappear far too soon. School begins. Lifeguard stands close. The Pacific quickly regains its native chill.

This year, my wife and I decided to do our best to prolong the season into late fall. Alison had memories of fine summer days, swimming and swatting balls at the venerable La Jolla Beach & Tennis Club. I liked the idea of heading south but avoiding the San Diego Zoo-Sea World-Legoland vortex.

A likely date presented itself in mid-November, and we set out to see if we could recapture the warm buzz of summer. Happily speeding south in what a friend aptly derides as the “Family Funster” (gleaming white minivan, bristling with cup holders), we hit our first glitch. Traffic on Interstate 5. Dutiful mother Alison doled out pretzels and juice boxes. We persevered.

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Despite the delay, it took just over two hours to get from South Pasadena to La Jolla. We went straight into the heart of the village, finding street parking just above the town’s signature cove.

As the Funster’s electronic door rolled open, a gust of briny air washed over us, and the three kids — ages 4 to 12 — piled out.

The cove’s native seals were waiting for us, basking on their rocks and lolling about in the easy surf. Pelicans and gulls seemed to watch along with us from the bluffs above.

If we’d had the patience, we could have listened to a fervent, sunburned woman who wanted to tell us all about the daily travesty that has befallen the small beach, known as the Children’s Pool. It seems the city is driving the seals away to reclaim the area for humans, as was intended when a breakwater went up decades ago to create a swimming haven.

The seals looked happy enough on the rocks just off the beach. And we were more concerned with the care and feeding of our own creatures.

Half a block up from the bluffs, on Girard Avenue, we found a bistro called Cody’s La Jolla. A patio wrapped around two sides of the cottage, providing a brilliant ocean view. The outdoor setting also helped minimize some of the staid, ladies-who-lunch milieu that prevails in parts of the upscale village.

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Cody’s is a bit pricey for the corndog-and-ketchup set, but I kept the tab down by eating off everyone else’s plate. And the kids said they really liked their omelets and chicken tenders.

Legs stretched and bellies full, we were ready for our final destination.

La Jolla is one of the few spots along the California coast where you can find a hotel right on the sand. The Beach & Tennis Club, a five-minute drive north of the center of town, is a reliable resort that’s been in operation since the 1930s. But on a previous stay, we found our room a little cramped, even for two. This time, even in the off-season, a suite to accommodate the whole family would have cost more than $300 a night.

Instead we chose the resort’s sister hotel immediately to the north, the Sea Lodge on La Jolla Shores Beach. The hotel had the same oceanfront location. A “coastal view” room — looking across a public park and up the beach toward Scripps Pier — ran a much more reasonable $189 a night plus tax, with buffet breakfast for two thrown in.

The Spanish-style Sea Lodge has two large courtyard patios outfitted with a modest pool, a small hot tub and a couple of pingpong tables. The hotel feels less exclusive than the Beach & Tennis Club. It’s one address closer to the public beach and lacks the sand grooming and lounge chairs of its sister property.

But our second-floor room was comfortable enough. Its wooden deck faces up the coast. The décor might have been a little faded, but we didn’t plan to spend much time indoors.

Crystalline blue skies were fit for a postcard, and temperatures in the 70s were perfect for a walk on the beach. An unusually low tide created a wide pane of glimmering wet sand that we shared with a menagerie of surfers, dogs, walkers and sandpipers.

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After walking north, we turned back toward the hotel and crossed in front of the Beach & Tennis Club to a stretch of rocks and tide pools, where a pair of white egrets poked around for food.

Family theater

San DIEGO’s strong theater scene inspired us that night to find a production suitable for the whole family, and we came up with the Lamb’s Players Theatre production of “The Boy Who Fell Into a Book.”

The play took us across town to the new Joan B. Kroc Theatre near San Diego State University. I assumed that any university neighborhood would offer a variety of dinner choices. Wrong, at least to the uninformed.

Soon after reaching the theater on University Avenue, we passed our first strip club. Then another flesh emporium appeared. Liquor stores seemed to abound. It took a few more wrong turns — and deserved barbs about Dad’s poor planning — before we found Woodstock’s Pizza on El Cajon Boulevard.

College kids lined up for pizza and $1 beer refills. The beer was good and cold, the pizza hot and tasty. And we all enjoyed observing slacker youth in their native habitat.

Although “The Boy Who Fell Into a Book” will never be counted among the classics, the young cast proved — as the program promised — “imaginative and exuberant.” The teenage protagonist wandered, dreamlike, through his bookshelf. My kids particularly enjoyed his encounter with the cartoon-like, treacly sweet Woobly family, who seemed to speak mostly one word, “Woobly, woobly!”

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The Old Globe or La Jolla Playhouse it was not. But you had to admire the way the ensemble charged into the lobby to offer a post-performance greeting to its audience.

The next morning, we explored La Jolla Shores, the neighborhood around the hotel. With several restaurants and shops, the Shores maintains more of the breezy informality that sometimes eludes La Jolla’s core.

Alison and Libby, 10, picked up T-shirts at Surf Diva. We walked up the strand again and were tickled to see lots of kids waiting to be picked up by their parents after surf sessions.

Although we had enjoyed a little splashing in the pool, the beach trip wouldn’t seem complete without venturing into the ocean. As Cole, 12, and Hank, 4, wrestled onshore, I plunged into the 64-degree water.

That’s somewhere between 4 and 10 degrees cooler than a good summer ocean temperature for Southern California. And those few degrees make a big difference, as evidenced by the wetsuits worn by most everyone else. The water was warm enough if you loved the ocean and you kept moving — in my case, body surfing. A seal even rolled through one wave, just 15 yards away.

Invigorated, I was ready for some tennis. Sea Ranch shares three courts with the Beach & Tennis Club, and both properties eschew those annoying and costly court fees at some resorts. Another benefit of coming off-season: No trouble getting a court time.

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We had to get back home but not before grabbing a few last moments in La Jolla Shores.

Locals flock to Jeff’s Burgers for lunch or ice cream, but we chose Rudy’s Cafe, a couple of blocks up from the hotel, so we could sit in the nicely shaded patio. Our sandwiches and a salad, ordered at the counter and delivered to our table, were delicious.

Sometime when we can stay longer, we might visit La Jolla Cave, where a tunnel grants access to one of the coastal sea caves. And it seemed worth exploring the coast from the ocean side. A local shop charges $38 to rent a kayak for four hours.

We discussed the possibilities as we watched the sun poking through the umbrellas and shade trees and listened to the chatter from the tanned, barefoot children around us.

Summer might not be endless. But in La Jolla it makes a game fight to continue its reign.


James Rainey, who recently reported on the presidential election, now covers media for The Times.

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