California’s legendary Hwy 1 has played a defining role in my relationship to the Golden State. In the spring of 1972, I left chilly Iowa and hitchhiked out to to sunny California for the first time, and began a six-week-long ramble up the coast, following Hwy1 (and 101) to Eugene, Oregon, where I stayed a few days before heading back to Iowa. That trip would become a preview of my later life journey; moving to So Cal in 1976, and moving north up the coast in stages roughly along the same path eventually ending in Eugene, this time to stay. Stephanie and I have driven Hwy 1 numerous times over the decades, although mostly on the stretch north of San Francisco. But since we’re on vacation in Half Moon Bay near San Francisco, we decided to revisit one the most scenic stretches to the south, and rekindle a few old memories, including the search for one particular redwood tree. Of course, there’s always a few old cars to shoot too.
Hwy 1 (as separate from 101) is not continuous along all of California’s coast; there are some sections in Orange County and Los Angeles, and of course the famous stretch from Santa Monica through Malibu, but then it turns inland and merges with 101 near Oxnard. But from Morro Bay on, Hwy 1 gets serious, and hugs the infinitely scenic and often rugged coastline all the way to Legget, way up in the northern end of the state.
In 1976, when I was living with my then-GF in San Diego, my sister and brother came out and we headed north to San Francisco, with the intent to follow Hwy 1 to the full extent possible. That turned out to be a memorable trip, the four of us in my 1968 Dodge A-100 van, but trying to stick to Hwy 1 through the built-up and industrial parts of Los Angeles County was not one of them.
This time, we drove south from Half Moon Bay–where we’re house-sitting a beachfront house–on 101 (blue line) through the vast agricultural Salinas Valley, and crossed the Coast range over Hwy 46, which intersects with Hwy 1 just a few miles north of Morro Bay, and then headed back north.
The grassy hills covered with wildflowers were aglow in the late afternoon sun as we began the return leg on Numero Uno. One of our motivations for going out of our way and re-doing this stretch was to see Hearst Castle, which for some reason neither of us had ever been to. An overnight in San Simeon made sure we got an early start on that.
But not before turning off at one of the endless roadside pull-offs, to take in the view north towards the rugged mountains in the distance, which is where Big Sur lies. And what other car is there? A virtual dead-ringer to my ’86 W124, right down to the color.
It’s a bit of Niedermeyer automotive history encounter at the beginning of this trip, as we made many memorable trips in the beloved 300E along Hwy1; the past meets the present. For that matter, our new Acura TSX Sport Wagon is the first car since the Benz that is a genuine “driver’s car”, after a string of family-centric kiddie haulers. And a worthy successor at that; it’s great to be behind the wheel of a fine new car again, especially on this stretch of road. It’s comfortable but utterly tenacious no matter how abruptly the road suddenly turns on the steep cliffs. It inspires confidence, and it’s even quite efficient, with a solid 30 mpg average on this trip, which included running at 75-80 down 101, and the undless ups, downs and a few 7000rpm passes on Hwy 1 on the way back. The 300E rarely did better than 22 mpg; progress. Or maybe it’s because that there weren’t any kids in the back seat.
A closer look reveals that not only is this W124 not a 300E, but it’s a 200D, a model that was never imported. With 71 hp, it marked the low end of the range, and was commonly used as a taxi cab in Germany. (W124 CC here) How did it find its way here?
Media-baron William Randolph Hearst built his “castle” on a hilltop of ranch land his family owned and used to camp on when he was a child. He was a voracious collector of European antiquities, and the main house evolved from a 21 room villa into a 105 room structure that evokes an Italian church from the front and a hodge-podge of additions in the back. It was a 28-year work in progress, and far from finished when he died.
It’s an eclectic conglomeration of styles in the main public rooms, with large architectural artifacts, tapestries, tiles, wooden ceilings, fireplaces, etc. from various cultures, countries and eras; all an a grand scale and all very intermingled. A true New World castle.
Hearst kept the scavengers of Europe’s antiquities busy for decades, and spent time here whenever he could in his very busy life, entertaining Hollywood celebrities and other luminaries of the time.
The views in every direction from some 700 feet above the coastline is superb; this golden girl can’t seem to get enough. And the turkey vultures are on the hunt for expiring tourists.
On the road again, which runs through meadows and hills, with the ocean perpetually dominating the views to the west.
It’s hard to resist stopping at the numerous pull-offs, as each one has its own charms, like these harbor seals basking in the sun. Yes, it was sunny, which is more common along the California coast in the spring, fall and even winter than it will soon be during the summer months, when the fog season begins. Which of course coincides with the maximum tourist season, to their misfortune. Come to the California coast anytime, but just not during June, July, and even August. Well, it does rain in the winter (hopefully), but even the drama of a winter storm beats the cold, wet windy fog of summer here.
The road starts to rise as it approaches the Santa Lucia Range. Hwy 1 from this point to where it drops back down into Carmel wasn’t finished until1937; before that the whole region was very isolated. Hearst had his own dock for ships, as well as an airstrip and a private DC-3, for ferrying in guests as well as copies of all of his newspapers.
This is something of an auspicious shot, as it captures the two predominant cars from my first trip there in 1972 and the current one. You all recognize the VW bus; this one is of course restored and tricked out. In 1972, VW hippie buses were of course the in vehicle of choice for folks to head to Big Sur in, and I saw plenty at the time. And the other car is a current Mustang convertible; about every third or fourth car on the trip was one, as the rental of choice for tourists to drive down (or up) the coast between SF and LA. Mostly white or black, and a few silver ones for good measure. Stephanie thought I was exaggerating until I pointed out the endless onslaught of Mustang convertibles coming the other way.
Another pull-off, with a splendid cove below. The Pacific’s color is always changing, depending on the light and other conditions. We’d never seen it looking as tropical as this day. There are rugged trails down to most of these coves and beaches, if one really wants to get away from it all.
But the next pull-off yielded an even more spectacular sight: a 1969 Corolla. This is the first gen1 Corolla I’ve seen in ages, and I will be doing a full CC on this very historically significant car (it became the #2 selling import car in 1969, its second year on the market; quite a feat). And this particular car has quite a story, which I got from its owner. Stay tuned…
Unfortunately there are no pics of the best part of the road through here, as my hands were too busy whipping the steering wheel through the endless tight turns. I missed shooting the sign for the Esalen Institute, one of the more famous outposts here. I was moving along pretty briskly, as we were eager for lunch. And that just had to be at the legendary Nepenthe Restaurant, an icon of Big Sur, a center of life here since it was built by Fasset family in 1949 on the site of an old trail cabin once owned by Orson Wells, and then being rented by playwright Henry Miller.
Designed by architect Rowan Maiden, one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s favorite disciples, the Nepenthe first attracted a literary/artist crowd, and then of course became a magnet for the counter-culture scene in the sixties. A terrific building that makes the most of its spectacular site, as well as local materials (redwood and stone) and artistic flourishes by the various artists who contributed to it. (Nepenthe history here)
I remember happily forking over some of my very meager $125 budget for my whole six week trip for one of their Ambrosiaburgers and fries, and sitting here soaking up the atmosphere in 1972. According to a customer, I had just missed Neil Young. Now it’s well-heeled tourists, or maybe other former kids who found their way here back and were looking for a bit of a memory replay.
The views are worth the somewhat lofty prices; my whole $125 budget back then would have just about been blown by our lunch with wine and the best banana custard pie ever.
Just past Nepenthe, the highway dips into a little valley for a couple of miles. Its the site of the town of Big Sur, such as it is, with a couple of gas pumps, a store, some cabins and lodges, and nearby Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park, the major campground in the area. Protected from the ocean winds and fed by a stream, redwoods grow back here, and one of them was calling to me. So we parked, along with this nice old Karmann Ghia from around 1968 or so, and decided to look for it.
In 1972, after one cold night bivouacking on a windy slope facing the ocean, I headed here into the park, where there were quite a few others young seekers camping; some legitimately; others not so. My budget didn’t allow for campsite fees, so I wandered around amongst the redwoods and stumbled into this tree, which just happened to be hollowed out at its base from a fire, who knows how many eons earlier.
Redwood bark is naturally fire resistant, which accounts for their longevity (up to 2000 years). But in a forest fire, some of the smoldering ashes can work their way through small openings, and cause the base of the tree to smolder away for a long time, perhaps until the next winter’s rain, leaving the base hollowed out. It’s not an uncommon site to see a redwood with a big chunk our of its base.
But this one was exceptional, as there was a perfect circular room inside of it, fully protected from the elements and with a soft mattress of springy redwood duff, and a small opening on one side (here) as well as a “door” on the other. I had found a perfect place to call home for some days of merrymaking and nature-worship.
One night, I was hanging out with some other campers who had some very potent weed, and got mighty ripped. I found my way back to my tree, and stretched out, feeling wonderful. That is, until a rather unusual night-time wind came up, and the tree started groaning and cracking, like the heavy timbers of a sailing ship at sea. The sound carried right down to at the base of the tree, and I was stoned enough to get a bit paranoid about it. What if the tree fell over? Right; from a little breeze, after withstanding hundreds of years of winter storms.
It took some doing to find the tree again, but I did. And it also happened to be windy, so I could relive that sound (along with a witness), to confirm it hadn’t been my imagination.
Very near to “my tree” was this highly vintage tent; a true Campsite Classic. Which reminds me, I need to get out my 1972 vintage Coleman tent one of these days…
In Niedermeyerworld, a hike is always called for, especially after that big lunch. The trail to the ridge looking out over the ocean was closed due to a fire last year, so we took the Valley View trail, and looked down where our car was parked.
After Big Sur, the road starts its long and windy descent towards Carmel and Monterey. I remember exactly the cars I got rides in the day I hitchhiked out in 1972: the first was a 1957 Chevy 150 wagon, driven by a very old-school Big Surian (1950s intellectual-backwoodsman), who was heading into town for some supplies. And the rest of the way to San Francisco I was in the back of a ’59 Chevy 3/4 ton delivery; like a Suburban without the windows.
I won’t bore you with pictures of Carmel-by-the-Sea, which became way too precious and pretentious of a tourist trap ages ago; it was well along to being so already in 1972. It was unbearably so in 1982, which was the last time I set foot in the place. North of Monterey, and much of the way back to half Moon Bay, agriculture is still the predominant use of the land next to and near the ocean, thanks to aggressive land-use laws and conservation easements. These are fields of artichokes; if you ever eat any, the most likely came from the fields here surrounding Castroville, the Artichoke Capitol of the world. And then there’s the stawberries, and the Brussell sprouts, and the….
Of course there’s endless beaches, and California mandates access to all of them. This area, very close to the bustling Bay Area, is surprisingly unspoiled for the most part, and there are some little gems of villages tucked into the valleys of the streams that feed down from the Santa Cruz mountains to the sea. If you want to step back in time, have lunch or dinner at Duarte’s in Pescadoro.
It had been a full day, and my camera hand was ready to be finished, but I clipped off one more shot of what I thought were just early evening rays through the clouds at this beach pull-off as we rolled by at a good clip. It wasn’t until I just opened it now that I see there’s another Curbside Classic that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. It is a magical coastline…
Related: Auto-Biography: 1986 Mercedes 300E 2103 Acura TSX Sport Wagon Mercedes W124 CC Auto-Biography: The Hitchiker’s Guide To The Galaxy 500 And Other Rides
Delightful! That ’69 Corolla is an exciting find. And I loved hearing how well your new car chewed up those coastal miles. A wagon that hustles and handles really, really, really resonates with me. I’m looking forward to the articles that are bound to come from this trip.
A 69 Corolla WAGON, no less. I’m really looking forward to its own article.
Thanks for the enjoyable ride. I have driven 1 on some of its portions from LA to San Diego, but have never been on the northern parts. The scenery is breathtaking, especially for a guy born and bred in the flat cornfields if the midwestern US. Its a good thing my trips came before my CC days, or I might have seen nothing but the cars.
Nice vistas. Is that the house that inspired Charles Foster Kane’s Xanadu?
It would seem so, but in the movie the castle was located in Florida, and used a different exterior.
You ever notice that the travails of Orson Welles in some ways mirrored those of Preston Tucker?
Great article! We did this exact trip last summer vacation. Heart Castle is beyond words. I would love to take one of the night tours there.
Used to live up in SLO. Every once in a while I’d get burned out from my evening shift on the local Top 40 radio station up there and head up the coast for a weekend of camping. My spot of choice was right off Hwy 1, just north of a little town called Gorda. It was illegal to camp there, but I’d tuck my Subaru under a convenient freeway piling. Very relaxing
And very nostalgic. Haven’t been there in at least 20 years. I need to go back.
Thanks, Paul. Nice memories you brought back.
Thank you. I made a day trip on Rt 1 north of San Francisco years ago and it has stayed with me ever since. Reigniting old memories is always a cathartic experience.
Burnt out by college and work, I,too, headed south in 1972. My method was more roundabout, as I started by going north to see my aging Grandparents, then south through Utah and the red rocks and on to the Grand Canyon. Ensenada, San Diego, and north hugging the coastline and listening to Canned Heat – “I can almost hear the warm sun shinin’ on me”. For practicality, I left my 240 with Mom, and drove my old 1952 Hudson Hornet. You can sleep in the back of that car. That picturesque bridge that has appeared in thousands of commercials and 17 mile drive along with 18 at Pebble were highlights of a great trip. I ended up building klystron tubes for Keyhole satellites at Varian, going to every concert at Winterland, and learning why Sam Clemens said “the coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco”. My uncle was on staff at Stanford, so I had to take one night class for resume padding. My last fling of complete freedom. Nice wagon. You have obviously learned your lessons in automobilia.
I remember those big and expensive 50Kw Varian klystrons in the tv transmitters. I think they were something like $50k back then, and it was always a big hit in the budget if/when one expired.
I was hardly a scientist. The sum total of my job was to test the tube, install helicoils for mounting and sand the base for shipment. It required secret security clearance. Which required I list all relatives living outside the United States. Being a dual Canadian, this took three days. I could work anytime, for as many hours as I wanted, so long as I did eight daily. I went nuts amassing cash. Palo Alto has always been its own little world.
Well I’ll be damned, a genuine refrigerator-white W124 200D ! Our farmers’ Liebling in its Glory Days. Most of them (the W124s, not the farmers) are driving around now somewhere in Central Europe, the Middle East or Northern Africa.
This afternoon, very rainy outside, I visited the sites of some my favorite nearby classic car dealers…”fantasy shopping”, as Mr. Shoar would say…
I came across this immaculate 1986 W124 300E Automatik. So, this was your Liebling ?
More here: http://www.ruylclassics.nl/mercedes45_eng.htm
And what a great scenery, I like endless landscapes and horizons.
We’ve had our drives up and down Highway 1 too. The first one was in our then-almost-new 1965 Barracuda. We actually slept in it the night before in southern Oregon, and found out that it isn’t really all that convenient to sleep where all the luggage is normally kept. The California topography was fascinating – a stretch of straight road, then down into a gulch, over the stream that cut it, then back up to the top for the next little straight stretch. We were lucky – although it was summertime there wasn’t much fog and we got lots of great views.
Very nice, as I”ve always enjoyed that section of PCH. My rides (no drives, as I was the engine for a Cannondale CAAD7 bike) between Morro Bay and Ragged Point were always fin, even the one time I arrived in Cayucos at 10:30 PM(yes, this was back in my ultra-distance days and I looked like a mobile Christmas tree.
Thanks, Paul, for rekindling wonderful memories of the ’76 trip! Glad you guys are enjoying your time in CA and sharing a bit with us.
I first drove Highway 1 from Monterey to Santa Barbara in the late 90’s. I had extended a business trip (a conference in Monterey) by a few days for a short holiday.
My flight from Montreal to San Jose had arrived very late, and the only car they had left was a Cavalier convertible. I managed to get lost on the way to Monterey – all I had was a small map from the rental company, and in many places in California, streets and highways are not lit, not even intersections. So I arrived at my hotel around 3:30AM. I tried to get some sleep before the 8:00AM conference, but my sleep was constantly interrupted by dogs barking outside my window. I was tempted to call the front desk to complain, but I figured there was not much they could do on short notice in the middle of the night.
At lunch time, I went for a short walk to get some fresh air. Going outside in shirtsleeves in December is always a welcome experience after flying in from snowy Montreal just hours earlier. Imagine my surprise when I realized that the dogs that had rudely interrupted my sleep were in fact seals!
After the conference, I folded the convertible top and drove to Santa Barbara. The weather in December was absolutely perfect, and the PCH almost deserted. A truly memorable drive, even if I managed to get a serious sunburn on the top of my head!
I have driven the PCH on at least two more occasions since, and recommend it to anyone who enjoys driving, and appreciates wonderful scenery.
Hearst Castle is worth a visit if you want to see how the 0.01% lives/lived.
If you want a taste of the redwood forest, but you’re not into hiking/camping, Muir Woods north of SF is a good choice.
One of the best roads in the world, i made the trip from San Diego to Seattle and back in 1984 with a friend in a borrowed Ford Fairmont Futura,fond memories!
Have driven various stretches of the PCH over the years, and we still drive from SF to SD almost every year, visiting friends and relatives. (Wife is from SD,I am Dutch, and we live in The Netherlands,but we visit SD every year)
With Paul and our sister Ruth in 1976 stopping in to visit former neighbors from Iowa that moved to Santa Barbara. Their children were similar to our ages.
I remember that picture. And look at our hair; longer than the two women’s. Quite a trip…
Ha! Great picture!!!
Nice read, Paul. I don’t know the Nepenthe, but as an architect and FLW fan I hope to check it out some day. I’m guessing you have visited Sea Ranch (above SF) on one of your PCH trips?
I got to drive the Mendocino to SF leg of the PCH in a rented Chevy Aveo a few years ago. My girlfriend was suffering from a head cold, which invariably affects her sense of balance… it wasn’t much fun for her to be a cliff-side (we were southward bound) passenger in a marble-shaped car with tires the size of English muffins. Fortunately, when one of the English muffins suddenly went flat we already had turned inland off the PCH.
I was reliving a much more recent trip (last year), I think I have many similar photos to these with the exception of the Nepenthe restaurant, we stopped there but at the lower level cafe. At least the lunch bill was a lot less and the views were still the same. I don’t recall too many CC sightings, but I know there were some, I will have to revisit my photos.
Here is the best CC we saw, in Monterey.
Cool trip Paul I’m looking forward to the Corolla story, an ex GF had a 68 sedan with worked engine and modded suspension it had been set up for gravel rallying and though not very fast it was a blast to drive.
Nice travelogue. Big Sur region has many different moods depending on the weather. The elephant seal colony north of San Simeon is impressive depending on the time of year. I have great memories driving a borrowed Porsche south from Monterey.
Don’t miss the northern portion of Highway 1 north of SF up to Mendocino. Less overrun with tourists, and many miles of even better scenery.
Nice to know that Niedermeyers were visiting my neck of the woods, even though there are parts of it I’d just as soon remained a secret. (Seriously, visitors are welcome — but bring water.)
I’ve never been to Hearst Castle. Maybe someday. Have gotten as close as the crowded parking lot but then thought better of it.
Instead, my wife and I went to Hearst’s mission-style Rancho Milpitas (on the grounds of Ford Hunter Liggett), where, last November, we were the only guests. The winding Naciamento-Fergusson road that comes to the Fort from the coast is spectacular but nerve-wracking.
This picture of the Rancho doesn’t show how spectacular it is, but it’s the only one I took that has a CC in it …
I love these pics. And a fun travelogue. Your wagon looks really sharp in white.
So jealous… I’ve only been out to California once, roughly the same area as this, and I loved the hell out of it but I was also too young to appreciate it the same way I would now. One of these days I’ll get back…
The 200D is definitely surprising. I don’t think anybody would’ve gone through the trouble of importing a 25+ year old one (especially in CA), so I’m gonna take it that this was a grey-market car from back in the days when those laws were fairly lax. If that’s the case, somebody paid a small fortune for each one of those 71 ponies.
Paul, I can provide some photos I took along the most scenic bits of Highway 1 in Big Sur, including the Bixby Bridge and Palo Colorado.
I drove the same highway in 1977 or ’78, in my friend’s ’74 Trans Am, swapping the driving every time we got gas, which was pretty often, as it got maybe 15 MPG on the highway. We went to the drag races at Irwindale or Orange County, then drove up to Fremont overnight and went to one up there too. We ended up at a great Chinese place near San Francisco, and then crashed at some really cheap hotel. By that time, we had been up so long, we were basically delusional. We went back to Vegas by some route through basically nothing, stopping in a ghost town, where both of us, at different times, fell through the floors of the buildings. I have a coke bottle from the early 1900’s that I found under the floor I had crashed through. The number of Black Widows we saw under the floors was enough to keep us from going into any more buildings.
Hwy 1 to Davenport from Santa Cruz is my twice-daily school run 🙂
Great write-up, Paul! I’m glad to see that you’re getting the TSX Sport Wagon out to stretch its legs. I’m adding Hearst Castle to my list of “to-see” destinations in CA. Looking forward to reading Part 2 of your adventure in the near future.
Enjoyed the write up Paul. I really dig that tree too!
Great write up, Paul!
Just today I ran down the PCH today to pick up some parts in at the Wilmington Pick-a-Part (Wilmington is just west of Long Beach). As you said in the article, the Los Angeles stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway is no great shakes, and slow as sin.
For those touring the coast, I’d recommend grabbing the 405 in Long Beach, and then running through LA on the 405 to the 10. From there, turn west on the 10 into Santa Monica. When the freeway runs out, you’re back on the PCH and headed into Malibu.
Your Mustang Convertible comments reminded me of a trip we took to Maui back in 2003. Highway 30 brought folks from the airport to the resorts around Lahaina, and rental Mustang convertibles made up about 25% of that road’s traffic as well.
We were in Maui in 2012, and the most popular rental cars at that time were Mustang convertibles and Jeep Wranglers. Compact Toyota pickups were plentiful among the locals, as I remember them to be in SoCal in the mid 90s when I was there last.
When I think of Big Sur I think of Napenthe and the blue lagoon you shot a picture of. Speaking of expensive places to eat that are worth it for the view, have lunch at Post Ranch Inn sometime.
We used to stay in the Ripplewood cabins but last time we were there we rented a real cabin and that was surreal, like living in a tree house.
Further south in SLO, believe it or not, Madonna Inn has great steaks.
I got to drive on Highway 1, in and around Half Moon Bay, several times back in the mid-seventies. I remember it as having very little traffic, especially compared to other California highways. I had a ’73 Chevy Nova then, with a Corvette 350 swapped in, and it was fun running up and down through the gears. Maybe it was just coincidence but seemingly every time I went through HMB it was foggy; spooky enough in the daytime, I can only imagine how it would have been at night.
Thanks for this great article, Paul.
I see that your southbound route took you right past Pinnacles National Park. Have you ever visited it? That was one of my favorite places to visit back when I lived in California.
Thanks again.
Surprisingly enough, we never have. This time, we were in a bit of a hurry heading down 101, as we didn’t start until late afternoon. Another time.
Stationed at DLI in the Presidio of Monterey, I spent ’77-78 riding my Triumph Trident up and down the Big Sur highway…
Beautiful pictures. As a teenager in the late 60’s early 70’s I visited the Hearst Castle about 3 times. If only those walls could talk! I really am overdue to make a similar journey as yours. Amazed that you were able to find your ‘tree cave’, Paul. I do remember one time with my Dad picking up a couple of girls that were hitchhiking. They looked good but smelled bad! I never had the nerve to hit the road like you did. I went to work full time right out of high school and moved out, but stayed in the same town. I do (somewhat) remember visiting a “church camp” in the Big Bear area where everyone was on acid (then got kicked out and followed down the hill by a sheriff while blazing away in my VW bus) with my friends, and come to think of it, there was this party at Kern River… Nice writeup. Enjoy your vacation. Looking forward to part 2!
Paul,
I’ve done this trip many times, in vehicles ranging from an 80s Town Car, a Seville STS, Miata and an 80s Audi 5000. Always, the car was secondary to the scenery. My wife and I got married in Gualala five years ago, I’ve done Hearst Castle about 10 times…between this and the fact that we share Loyola HS and Towson, it’s interesting that we ended up in such different places (IT security work in Houston). The descriptions are right on, it’s a pleasure to read. Thanks.
What a great trip for y’all, Paul! I take glamor shots of my car often as well….
I made the mistake of teaching summer school after my first year of regular class teaching. I promised myself never again, and the subsequent 3 years I hoofed it out to LA and worked in a recording studio, flipped burgers, whatever it took to finance my adventures. Those were three crazy summers, and I loved every minute, driving the coast, exploring every nook and cranny. I got to see a bunch of the ’84 Olympics quite cheaply, and was on the floor of the DNC in San Francisco.
Quite the playland out there, and I plan to take my daughter on The Drive in the foreseeable future….
I know I am late to the party on this one, but I wanted to be able to take my time and enjoy it, which I did immensely!
When I was in high school, I had a science teacher that decided to take a couple of days and show the class some home videos he had from where he and his brother traveled out west to drive the coast. I think they were from around 1987. They took his 1986 Olds Calais coupe and a tent. Those videos were so beautiful! I so hope that one day I can make that journey and see it for myself, with my camera snapping away!
It’s a beautiful coastline and road. I did this segment in reverse as part of a West Coast cycle trip (Vancouver to Mexico) in September-October of 2014. I camped overnight in Half Moon Bay – it was a quick half-day ride after 4 days of R&R in San Francisco. I stumbled across a great pub on the old main street, east of the highway, and spent a few happy afternoon hours with a novel from a second-hand bookstore nearby.
It took me about 5 days to get to San Simeon & Hearst Castle, and I stopped for breakfast in Cambria at a hospitable diner early the next morning. On a bicycle the road seemed never-ending, but in a good way, and the California State Park system is incredibly kind to cyclists with shared campsites available for $5 – $7 a night. Mind you it takes many, many nights to get from Oregon to Mexico – a general rule of thumb is 1 hour of driving equals 1 day on the bike! – so what with the showers being pay-as-you-go, it probably works out for them in the end. It certainly does for cyclists.
Lots of great memories, one of the most persistent being going to sleep for several weeks to the sound of Pacific surf pounding on a beach a few metres away. That and the Wall Of Beer in virtually every gas station in California. And the turquoise water in the coves. And the mysterious fog banks lying just off the warm and sunny coastline. Happy days.