Saturday Winding Down

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

We beat the Saturday breakfast crowd by heading over to Lily’s Coffee House at 7:30. We had slept in, which meant there wasn’t a walk along a dramatic coast or into a mysterious forest before eating either. The entire process we typically rely on during these travels is all akimbo as we have forsaken the rising sun in order to lazily get moving when the light of the day or the tension of bladders finally pulls us out of slumber.

Sitting at Lily’s with the locals, easily understood by the conversations, we spent two hours sipping our coffee after finishing our first meal of the day. What remained the same out of our habits was Caroline pulling out her knitting and me the computer to write about the previous day. Now, with the absolute necessities out of the way, we drove back to our measly motel of mostly meh (and convenient parking) for a walk along the Moonstone Beach Boardwalk.

Walking, walking, and more walking…discussing how we are likely entering the phase of the trip in which we panic and take photos of every single thing we see to capture all the important details. This was followed by a conversation about the quality of the images we take, and when I say “we take,” I mean that I feel unable to take photos alone as nicely as I can when Caroline is by my side. I’m certain I’ve written about this before, but we have a new take on the subject, and that is when we are together, the images when viewed at some future date, have shared memories embedded in them. When I’m off taking photos on my own, we don’t share what the experience was, and only I was taking inspiration from what I was seeing. Out here on the coast, or anywhere for that matter, when we are together, our experience is laden with love, and so it must be the lingering memory of these special moments that seeps into the images and reappears when we gaze upon them years into our futures.

Allow me to introduce you to Dipsacus Greenstein, joining the likes of great conductors Leopold Stokowski and Herbert von Karajan and currently conducting the Cambrian Coast Ensemble, bringing the roar of the ocean, the subtle breezes of offshore cool winds, and the waving plant life into full orchestration for us visitors’ enjoyment. We offered a standing ovation for the incredible piece we were enjoying. The second number performed for all those present was Teasel’s Dream; you should have been there.

We’ve passed through Cambria a number of times and, for some reason or other failed to ever visit this stretch of ocean. Maybe it was our enthusiasm to reach Big Sur or Monterey or the thought that had we headed down Moonstone Beach Drive; we would be in some wealthy enclave with views of the ocean thwarted by mansions along the shore. It turns out that the majority of the beach here is wide open, and about a mile of boardwalk above the cliffside offers everyone an easy path along the shore.

Icicle, you sickle, we all suckle for ice cycle! So that was goofy, but that’s what came to mind before I learned that these succulents are now called ice plants. When I was a kid growing up in Southern California, we called them icicle plants. Speaking about growing up and not being totally effective in that endeavor, when I learned the Latin name of this plant, I chuckled. It’s Delosperma, and yeah, there’s a part of me that’s that childish.

And no, I didn’t post this photo to indulge my inner idiot. Caroline loves the green-to-red transitions on these beautiful plants that populate so much of the California Coast, and so it’s here to bring us back.

Finally, she took off her shoes to walk along the ocean, and after about 30 feet of nice soft sand, we were walking on gravel that wasn’t as nice or as soft, but she was committed and endured a million ticklish and moments of painful pebbles that made up this section of beach.

Indulge me with my broken record, but once again, I have to wonder out loud: why are two of only a few people out in this spectacular landscape? By midday, I’ll struggle to take photos of the environment without people obscuring the view, but right now, we are essentially alone on a beach in Cambria.

The Monterey cypress tree is named as such as it’s native to the area between Carmel and the Monterey Bay of the California Central Coast. These trees down here and farther south in the San Luis Obispo area are transplants and help control soil erosion. They are well suited to high winds, but the number one reason, in my view, that they are here is found in their aesthetic value.

Can you sense my grabbing at more images than I should be posting? I often wonder how many will be enough when, some years down the road we no longer live near enough the places we currently love to visit. Or maybe our state of health precludes us from ever returning. And so I’ll continue pushing up what will hopefully be an adequate number to bring smiles to our old faces about those days we stood here holding hands, pinching ourselves at how lucky we were to be somewhere so beautiful.

Dear humanity, please continue your obsession with watching and listening to streaming life instead of being out here polluting the outside world with your inanity. Instagram is your friend, your mentor, and your god. You, as an average mortal, only require your drive-thru Taco Bell and more stickers from your favorite coffee shops. Experience is well over-rated. Can you sense the loneliness of visiting such a forsaken place without others to affirm how amazing you are to yourself?

Continued from above. The water leaps out of the ocean due to boredom, as there are no otters, dolphins, whales, penguins, giant sea turtles, or polar bears that might otherwise make this place cute. Nobody of any particular note ever comes here to showcase anything of value. Bands don’t play out here, there are no Buffalo Wild Wings for over 100 miles in any direction, and you’ll notice we don’t shoot selfies out here as it’s embarrassing to have fallen into such a void. So, in closing, you will serve the rest of humanity well by telling others to veer away from the California Central Coast. Thank you to the victims of being tricked into visiting this area.

We now return to our regularly scheduled program already in progress.

Pink, white, and yellow flowers framing a wooden boardwalk with a blue sky and the sea in the distance are part of a well-balanced diet that feeds the soul and staves off premature old age. Holistic dietary requirements depend on age, physical activity level, and happiness goals. Only consume under the supervision of love and know your limits.

Why, oh why, have I given myself such a steep ladder to climb so close to the end of this vacation? Worse still, I’m writing this five days after we were here, and I’ve already shared so many impressions on the previous posts that I feel that I’m not really adding anything new other than the sights of what we saw.

Finally, we are about to transition to something else…

…but not all that far away. We are across the street from the boardwalk for some lunch at the Moonstone Beach Bar & Grill. Should you consider visiting, please heed our warning; it is not cheap here along the coast. As a matter of fact, it’s downright expensive. Our room a few doors down from here was $191.25 a night, and a lunch of 1 beer and iced tea, calamari appetizer, three oysters on the half shell, an avocado bacon cheeseburger, fries (they are separate), a vegetarian sandwich, and a dessert of a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped off with hot berry compote came in at a hair over $100 including tip. Now add about $35 for breakfast and $150 for dinner, and without any shopping or other drinks/snacks the price of a day out here is quickly surpassing $500.

I’m reminded of the days when we avoided these pricey enclaves and instead headed to Seaside north of Monterey to find the cheapest motel we could (we did that here in Cambria for this stay, too), and we’d kind of choke on the idea of paying $79.95 not including tax for the night. Nature’s Valley Oats ‘n Honey granola bars were our breakfast, turkey sandwiches made from ingredients in an ice chest and backseat were our lunch, and just as often our dinner, too. But when we got tired of the cold meals, we splurged and hit Burger King.

After lunch, we headed into the quaint old shopping area around Cambria’s Main Street, off Highway 1. After driving by those other years, it was time to check out just what is here. Of course, the coolest things we found exceed our comfort zone of what we are willing to spend on such treasures, but these redwood objects pushed a few buttons. (Never mind that we have no space in our apartment for any of these things.) Lucky for us, you can only shop here by appointment, and we had to satisfy our curiosity by looking through the windows.

This is the Squibb House Bed & Breakfast, and while not across the street from the ocean, it is in the wonderful Main Street area at a fairly reasonable price of between $195 and $225 a night.

This was an essential stop in town and our second time here at the Ball & Skein yarn store. Caroline lost a needle required to knit my socks, so why not buy more needles and other stuff while we’re here, supporting the local economy?

Then it was back over to Lily’s Coffee House for a second time today, taking a coffee break to knit and spin yarns. Caroline is doing the knitting while I’m responsible for the stories. Part of the winding down is not wandering more than two miles away from our motel. There’s no special meaning behind this total slowdown other than maximizing relative laziness.

It’s a cool 64 degrees (18 Celsius) with a calm breeze under clear blue skies. Other than it being perfect out here, there’s not a lot to report. But I do have a lot left to write about yesterday, so I’m turning my attention to that page.

After some temporary leisure-induced writer’s block, I was able to open the spigot of words and sat for nearly two hours with my cold coffee, which had been boiling hot, to hammer out another thousand or so words, thus completing the tale that was yesterday’s adventure.

On our way to the other side of town that we were supposed to explore too, I caught sight of this object out of the corner of my eye and had to make a quick U-turn to verify that I had seen what I thought I had. Wow, this is the Fresnel lens from the Piedras Blancas Lighthouse (now Light Station) that we had walked out to yesterday. I had bet Caroline when we were out there that I believed there had been a lighthouse atop the tower in the past, but she was disbelieving. I was right.

We didn’t make it to the other side of the shopping area as it was getting late, and we were wanting to walk the other half of the boardwalk we hadn’t explored yet. So we’ll postpone the remaining window shopping and browsing in that part of town to a subsequent visit. I’m hoping it is obvious to most people that you are looking at a closeup of the Fresnel lens.

This is where we would spend the next two hours as we walked into the sunset on our last full day on the coast. It also turns out to have been a photo I stared at for two hours as I tried to kick-start what I wanted to write for the remainder of this blog post. I’m sitting in a coffee shop four days after our return from this adventure and my difficulties are being compounded by the fact that it’s also the fourth day of a fast, so the thinking circuits move with the speed of cold molasses.

From above, so below. In the previous photo, we were just above this cliff that can be seen left of center, but Caroline wanted to walk along the water’s edge instead of on the boardwalk, so we headed down. It turned out that we were already at the end of the boardwalk anyway.

This recurrent theme of me focusing on the low sun to set my exposure in order to shoot something in silhouette is an old favorite of mine. It also helps in yanking down the reflective brilliance of blinding white light coming off the ocean, creating a warm ambiance that makes the already molten sea appear even more metallic. The sense of the late day also feels amplified, and to me, this type of image is a kind of exclamation point signaling that we’ve reached that perfect moment in the golden hour.

We are at Moonstone Beach, and while these rocks look a bit like Swiss cheese that might come from the moon, these are not what the beach is named for. Little white speckled gem-looking rocks are scattered across the stretch of beach here in Cambria.

These are happy people wearing the faces of gratitude for all that we get to do and for the privilege of being with each other to share these experiences.

This is sad kelp on its way to desiccation as it has been dislodged from its grip on the ocean floor for this journey onto land. While we can appreciate our encounter with the still fresh, fly-free, and shiny sea plant, I can only imagine the turmoil it must be suffering as it realizes it has no ability to bring itself back to its watery home.

On the other hand, there’s this beautiful creature already well versed in navigating the land who I’m fairly certain will bring herself back to the car where I’ll be able to return her to our desiccated desert-dwelling hundreds of miles from here that we call home.

But hey, isn’t home where the heart is? If it is, that’s Caroline sitting out on the bench while I soar overhead, trying to poop on her.

Yeah, I had to go there on that last bit of writing just so after Caroline reads it while proofreading the entry, I can hear her over at her desk ask me, “Really? You seriously wrote that you see yourself pooping on me?” You can rest assured I will laugh my ass off, and then years down the road, after this is long forgotten, we’ll both laugh at the folly of youth…even though we are already approaching old age.

And with that, the sun set and we peeled away from the golden ocean as we finished winding down another amazing vacation.

Thursday Something Or Other

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Caroline Wise in the Human Nest at Treebones Resort on the Big Sur Coast in California

It was foggy last night as we crawled up the ladder to our Nest at the cliff’s edge. It was foggy this morning as we descended the ladder after leaving the cozy warmth of our down comforter. We left our sleeping bags at home so we could snuggle in the cold coastal air that easily flows through the perch we are calling home for a couple of nights. Somewhere in the middle of the night, I woke and looked through the branches surrounding us, and up in the dark sky, I could make out a few stars. The fog had dissipated just enough to offer me a peek at distant suns while the barks of sea lions rang out from the waters below.

Every surface exposed to the moist air was damp. Good thing I listened to Caroline about putting the otherwise unused rainfly over the top of us to help keep our blanket dry; the pillows didn’t fair as well. Cute to me was how Caroline greeted me, “Good morning, mad scientist!” I guess tossing and turning on a somewhat hard thing that at one time might have been called mattress had frizzled my hair into a scholarly disheveled appearance. Minimal, sorry, no ablutions followed, although nature’s call was heeded before we took ourselves to the comparatively warm dining room for breakfast and internet.

No, the internet is not important for these travels aside from offering Caroline a connection to do her daily Duolingo lessons and as for me, I need the connectivity to upload photos and to save blog entries. Of course, while on the road, we enjoy the luxury of having our smartphones to find dining options and detours from main roads, details that our paper maps 20 years ago were not able to offer. Other than that, we try our best to avoid the news cycle (yes, I accidentally learned while out here that Bill Gates is getting divorced), and obviously, we don’t turn on the TV unless it’s winter and we’ve checked into our lodging seriously early. One last thing about the news finding us: one year, we tuned in to NPR to listen to This American Life and a fascinating story about Curly Oxide. While listening to the broadcast out in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho, we learned that Marlon Brando died, which was back on July 2, 2004, and I only know that because I blogged about it.

Caroline Wise knitting at Treebones Resort on the Big Sur Coast, California

Breakfast was a self-serve affair with quiche, chia pudding, granola, and fresh fruit on offer, with the obligatory endless coffee. As we sip on that infinite supply of life force, I’m sitting across from Caroline, who’s knitting my next pair of socks, of course, and I’m writing what you are reading. Somehow, it feels like a Saturday, which I can only attribute to the last five days requiring us to be places, and now, here on Thursday, we are moving lazily without a hurry to be anywhere in particular.

It’s 9:30 a.m., and the fog lies heavily on the earth around us, so we are not so motivated to head up or down the road to our next trail or overview. Then again, there comes a point where no matter how involved we are with our hobbies, we grow fidgety, probably due to the nagging thought that we are on vacation and are supposed to be busy with other stuff. For all we know, just 10 miles south, we could run into blue skies. It’s likely going to be that possibility that will drag us away from the hot coffee supply and into new aspects of the day. But for now, I will try to delude myself that I’ll stumble on more things to write about.

By 10:15 a.m. and a bit of talking with staff about perspectives and how a pandemic is altering habits and expectations (thanks, Dan at the front desk), the fog is lifting, and we are getting our first view of the ocean from here. The sun is shining on the property, and if that’s not the trigger that kicks us out of our comfort zone into a new comfort zone, nothing will. Hopefully, I’ll be returning to writing at a new overlook soon. As a matter of fact, we spoke yesterday about having lunch at Lucia, so maybe that’s where we’re going.

We had to head back to the Nest to pick something up, which turned out to already be in Caroline’s bag. You have no idea how often it happens that what she’s looking for is within inches of her already. All the same, it was great that she had us come out this way, not only for the view but for being at the right place at the right time.

While we were up on our cliffside, a neighboring couple in one of the new sites below us offered to take our picture from their perspective; they said they’d email it to us, we hope they follow through.

John Wise and Caroline Wise at the Human Nest at Treebones Resort in Big Sur, California

Wow, by the time we returned to Treebones later that day, the couple that took our picture from the Autonomous Tent site below had sent it to us. It’s rare that we have a photo of us not taken by me. It will be even rarer that we might stay in one of the two Autonomous Tents as not only are they booked solid for the next year, but they are priced at a lofty $645 a night with a two-night minimum. You do get your own bathroom and shower, though, and the views are outstanding.

Now ready to go, or maybe not? We turn left instead of right and visit the hillside organic garden seeing where many of the greens and edible flowers are grown for the restaurant. In a seemingly small space, every available square inch is covered with plants, and many are flowering now, so it feels like the proverbial Garden of Eden. A greenhouse, fruit trees, and a compost heap round out the garden.

Close to the garden are 3 or 4 beehives next to the Sweet Spot Honey Processing Hut. We spoke with one of the gardeners about why so many pest traps are out; they have a vole problem. A garter snake we saw hopefully catches a couple from time to time. Okay, now we’re really ready to go.

Our first stop driving north was at Sand Dollar Beach State Park, and whoever named this was probably related to the people in Phoenix who name a community Emerald Pines or Amber Creek because after walking down to the beach, there wasn’t a sand dollar to be found, not even a tiny fragment. But there was a consolation prize found in the body of a decaying sea otter, whose face a buzzard or two had been feasting on.

The beach itself is a quiet place. Steep cliffs surround the cove, and the beach is mostly rocky, with a couple of small stretches of sand. At high tide, I doubt there is any sand here. The rocks near the shore that are exposed at low tide, while covered in moss and seaweed, don’t have a single anemone at their base, not a seastar, nor a barnacle or mussel. In the scheme of things, maybe this isn’t the most dynamic beach we’ve ever visited, but at the speed we are moving, this is a luxury not to be in a race to see special places that draw us back or have a schedule where we stay, eat, drive, with little time to linger. As I wrote that last word, I thought maybe this trip should be titled the “Lingering On The Central Coast Tour.”

We note that Limekiln State Park is south of Lucia, which wasn’t clear in our spatial memory, but we are now hungry and heading directly to Lucia Lodge before they stop serving lunch. A huge deck below the parking area we’d never noticed before was open for diners, and there was a table open with our name on it. Greasy fish and chips for me, veggie burger and fries for Caroline will need to carry us through 8:00 p.m. as we changed our dinner reservation from 6:00 so we would have more of a reason to hang out until we’re ready to ascend the ladder to our outdoors bed.

Content to just sit here on the deck at Lucia, we’ve ordered a couple of coffees and a slice of cheesecake; we are on vacation after all. The knitting needles are out, with one held in Caroline’s mouth as she adds stitches that require a fifth needle. Great, the needles are dropped, and the spoon is tightly gripped, letting me know we are about to go into battle for the larger half. Should I believe she’s getting ahead, I’ll try some whining about her attempts to dominate our dessert. She hates whining, so she’ll rage quit eating my cheesecake, and I’ll get a solid 75% of it. Right! Like Caroline wouldn’t fight for her fair share using the excuse that she’s concerned about me and my health due to “the diabetes,” so, in her mind, she’s just saving me from myself.

Patches of blue sky appear behind the fog that comes and goes before burning off to open amazing vistas that demand we just sit here. For a short time, it felt like the day was warming but then a light breeze comes in off the ocean, and maybe it’s cooling off. We’ll just have to sit here longer to get a better read on what’s what. What we can do with that information is beyond me right now so sitting here even longer might help in bringing answers. That doesn’t work, but we are given more sun. Nothing left to do but sit here and enjoy this moment of perfection.

Not the best photo of two horses in a flower-covered pasture with one of the most awesome views in all of California but it’s being posted here for Katharina, our niece in Germany.

Warning, sharp curves, and familiar sites ahead, along with even more words. Maybe it was pessimism, or maybe it was the wish to have a slow day, but as I started writing this blog post, I had the sense that the fog that wrapped the coast last night and into the morning was going to be with us a good long time. And so, figuring that and knowing I’d need to post something or other to fill the page for this day, I just kept on writing before knowing that we had a lot of adventure ahead.

If one curve looks like another to you in any of these photos, don’t let that dissuade you from at least once in your life seeing this coast with your own eyes at least once in your life. The nuances you see in person are extraordinary, no matter the time of year you might visit. Caroline and I have been here at all times of year over the previous 25 years and never have we been disappointed, even under foul weather. How can bad weather contribute to the extraordinary? Mystery on gray, rainy days blossoms in place of the wildflowers and the clear aquamarine waters; that’s how.

Treebones Resort offers guests a list of nearby places to visit; one of those on the list is Partington Cove Trail. There are three forks of the trail, with the first one we took going through a short tunnel carved in rock coming out into this view. In a cove like this one, you will see just how pristine the waters of the Pacific are here on the California coast. This is not a loop trail, nor is it long, though this is the only way short of owning a helicopter that you will ever see this small cove.

Heading back to the main trail to see the cove that this area is named after. While difficult to identify in this photo, those are redwood trees.

Partington Cove is a small rocky inlet with some huge boulders to scramble over should you feel like jumping in some apparently deep water where the surf will dash you to bits against the shore, but if that’s your idea of a good time, there’s nobody out here stopping you from you doing you.

On to the third fork which appears the lesser-traveled of the three. This trail doesn’t take you to the ocean; it takes you into redwoods along a small creek. I know, how isn’t that appealing to those who make this mile-long hike?

Sticking with tradition to see just how much water sticks to someone, Caroline had to step into the small creek running through the canyon. For those of you just finding this blog recently, you may not know that Caroline has doffed her shoes dozens, if not hundreds, of times to step into as many waterways across the breadth of America as she can.

Note to Claudia: While my best friend and wife has keen language skills among her many talents, dressing is not an exacting science to her. So, as you browse these entries and see her wearing these Adidas sweatpants, know that she’s also about comfort on her own terms.

Redwoods, one can never see enough of them, ever.

Flowers, too, because every time you gaze upon beauty, you extend your life another 10 minutes.

In just five minutes, I gained another 30 minutes of life. Just imagine that if you look at three beautiful things a day for 50 years, you’ll add a full year to the time you have to explore life!

Blam, another 10 minutes added to my reserve of time. By the way, we are no longer on the Partington Cove Trail but are now across the highway, where we spotted another path; this one is called the Tan Bark Trail. Strangely, it wasn’t on our list of recommended destinations.

Caroline and I often joke, probably to the point of annoyance if you had to hear it for yourself, about certain places being the Swiss cheese of sights. Meaning, just the common everyday old stuff of no particular interest as a road stops being a Scenic Highway while we feel like we are still on that special designation. Here we are, on this hike into a forest that we find spectacular, and yet, it didn’t make the list?

Consider that you are only seeing a pale representation of nature on display. All the smells, sounds, and ethereal depth painted by contrasting colors and dancing lights are lost in these photos. I suppose this is as good a spot as any to share with you that Caroline has added a new word to the lexicon; it is photogenous. We were approaching something or other out on the road when she attempted to describe a view as being photogenous, so we are going with it, and you’ll be reading more about how photogenous places can be.

My apologies should be offered as I didn’t warn readers early on that this post features 45 photos, 46 tons of beauty, 47 trillion words, and this one purple lily.

We’re still on the Tan Bark Trail as we are enchanted in this narrow canyon and astonished that no one else is here.

This photo is especially for Caroline as she has a thing for long exposures of running water, and I know she’ll be surprised that I managed to get one without a tripod or nearby tree to steady the camera.

She asked that we take a selfie here as it’s been days since we last took a photo together. Well, maybe you can see from my color why I might have been reluctant to capture a reminder of the wicked sunburn I adopted. You can see in Caroline’s skin tone what sunblock and a hat do, compared to Mr. Macho-I-Don’t-Do-That and a deep red coloring that I prefer to call blushing.

Attention Readers: You are now leaving the trail for the next part of the adventure of John and Caroline.

There are a number of natural springs along the Big Sur Coast. Almost 100 years ago, they were tapped as drinking fountains for travelers on this old road; today, only a few still function. This is the Rigdon Drinking Fountain that no longer offers passers-by the opportunity to quench their thirst.

Should you be wondering how close I am to finishing this post, I still have a baker’s dozen of photos remaining. Does this image have a story, John? Not really, other than we find it to be an appealing view, and it will likely be yet another powerful reminder of our good fortune to have been out here once more.

The appearance of the coast changes dramatically as the light shifts over the course of the day. Many of our travels on this highway have been expedient due to a lack of available time to linger, but these eight days directly on the coast were meant to offer us all the opportunities we might be able to take advantage of. So, here we are, looking back and then forward again.

Forward through Pacific Valley without a great vantage point to grab a photo. There’s a lot out here that cannot be seen from where I pulled over but there was nowhere else to do that, and so this is the best I can offer for now.

This is one of two “conundrum” shots. I should have made do with one image of the late-day sun shining in a narrow band of warm light on the calm ocean, but I loved this shot as much as I loved the sunset view four photos below.

There’s a beach down there, not the one in view, but just beyond the jutting rock on the left.

But before we visit that beach, we have to stop at another spring-fed drinking fountain at Seven Stairs. Yes, we certainly did drink from this spring in addition to the unnamed fountain the day before, and no, we have not had to suffer the ill effects from inadvertently drinking giardia. Also, this being California, if there was any chance of disease or illness, there would be large warning signs alerting people to the dangers.

This is the beach from Willow Creek Vista Point and our last stop before returning to our second night in our Nest.

Also, Willow Creek Vista Point and the image I referenced above that was my conundrum.

Should you, too, find yourself with a loony bird, then you too will understand why so many photos of her smiling from your nest are important. You should have heard her mating song that lured me up there.

This is why we pay such a premium to spend a couple of nights in a drafty oceanside perch high up a cliff. The view is from our bed.

In order to maximize our memories, I need all the views of the approach to our Nest.

Not an easy location to take photos of as the sun sets; a drone would have come in handy, although drones are not allowed in the resort.

These are the yurts and probably the primary attractions of Treebones Resort, though the Twig House, Tree House, and now the Autonomous Tents are all very attractive, too.

The fog is again trying to move in, and a breeze is kicking up, too, but nothing can dampen our enthusiasm because we have once again experienced a perfect day.

Frog at Treebones Resort on the Big Sur Coast in California

Last-minute addition: after we left the dining area, we heard this really loud frog croaking near a water feature, so we had to investigate if we might see this giant. It had to be big because of the booming sounds it was making. We spotted this guy on the side of the wooden pool, and he was tiny, like about 2 inches or 5 cm, but it was loud, like we couldn’t believe.

Tuesday Coastal Wandering

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Writing in situ presents a couple of challenges. Our days are already long as we use the majority of daylight to remain active. The rising sun and setting sun see us eating, and any residual evening light is used for a walk after feasting. When we finally reach our room our day has already been roughly 14 hours long. We do not reach for the remote control, though. Instead, I try to bring together loose ends regarding the details of this day for the blog. By the next morning, Caroline and I were making decisions about the photos selected for the previous day’s entry, and when that was done, she started editing the post I finished writing the night before, which was for the day before that.

As she is busy editing, I’m trying to think about what I’ll start writing this morning about the previous day. It’s inevitable that she’ll enquire about some garbled ideas I tried to capture in what looks like a haphazardly tossed pile of words that I, myself, who penned the random word scramble, have trouble deciphering. This interrupts my thoughts about what I might write about yesterday by dragging me into the day before while simultaneously considering that we have a new day ahead of us, and it, too, requires consideration. So, in effect, I have three days of travel running through my mind, and after some time out here on the road with consecutive 16 – 17 hour days, I start to suffer a bit of confusion about the time remaining, where we are, and what’s next.

Then, I bring my attention back to the photo at hand and focus. I’m writing about the snowy plovers we were watching yesterday morning as they darted back and forth, side to side, on the hunt for breakfast in the receding surf.

With the aquarium closed, we have no real choice but to do other stuff and that stuff starts at Marina State Beach north of Monterey. North will be the direction of our travels today.

Considering how I opened today’s post, I feel that those plovers and this man fishing on the beach are the ones who are really on vacation, but I admit that I only say that tongue-in-cheek. Out here with the purpose of walking hand in hand with Caroline, enchanted by every little thing except the trash, my exploration of the details we are experiencing and some thought along the trail about which of these impressions should be noted later, this structure of travel and vacation really is my perfect scenario.

If I were a flower that had the ability to document its world, I’d be taking photos of the insects that stop by helping pollinate me. I’d photograph the people who try to smell me or simply gaze at how beautiful I am. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be complaining too often about the dog that lifted a leg to pee on me and instead would sing songs about the abundant sunshine, occasional rains, and the intimacy of my world when fog hangs low and the surrounding world disappears.

One minute, these shapes emerged from the surf after it returned to the sea, and with the next crashing wave, most of it was gone while another pattern formed in its stead. The many times we’ve seen these on the beach, they were already present as relics on display for our passing eyes, but today, I’ve finally seen them being made and just as quickly removed.

This image and the two above were taken at Salinas River State Beach. The weather you are seeing is supposed to follow us all day.

Moss Landing State Beach was our next stop on this journey north. If I thought our Saturday drive was slow at 18 mph, so far, we have driven 20 miles in two hours for the breakneck average speed of 10 mph. Someday we’ll graduate to staying in a place next to the pool at some resort and reading a book, but for now, we keep on moving.

What contributes to making a vacation memorable for us beyond the extra handholding and time together is the myriad of details that create the totality of an environment. It’s easy to only focus on the extraordinarily beautiful and spectacular but how that picture gets painted in memories years down the road is important to me too. Maybe it’s not just the dramatic coastal views, lighthouses, and wildlife but the thread of all sights and impressions that were taken in as the experiences of the day. And so, even this lone fishing boat returning to the harbor, cutting its path between the otters we were watching further up the channel it too plays a part that reading or seeing fishing boats 20 years from now might help bring us back to those days when we stopped to watch them on the California coast.

There’s truth in that old saying, “You can never see enough curlews and plovers on the beach,” okay, I made that up, but there should be an old saying stating this obvious reward for being at the edge of the sea.

From the sea forest offshore, emissaries were sent as sacrifices so we might know their kind.

In order to move closer to the coast on our way to Manresa State Beach near Watsonville, we left Highway 1, and to our surprise, we spotted a Starbucks out here in the middle of nowhere. You can’t even see the coffee shop from the main road, and it wasn’t until we left their parking lot that we saw this amazing house. Since 1897, the Redman-Hirahara House has occupied this site but fell into disrepair long ago. In 2004, it was designated a National Historic Site but obviously has not attracted funding yet to save the fragile-looking former farmstead.

It’s a half-mile walk from the parking lot down to the beach, and with Manresa State Beach being part of the California State Park system, there’s a $10 charge for visiting. The cost was well worth it, and the pass is good for all other California State Parks for the remainder of the day. So, down the trail, we went looking for all that we may find.

Bright yellow flowers in front of the sea trigger memories of previous visits to the Oregon coast, where we’ve seen the invasive gorse in bloom. This is not the same plant, but the view is reminiscent and puts a smile on our faces all the same.

This is neither gorse nor the flower in the photo above, but it is yellow, obviously, so that might imply I’m trying to show a close-up of what I’ve already photographed, but I’m not. It’s simply another pretty flower I want to remember.

While I grew up in Southern California and have seen and smelled my fair share of eucalyptus, I can’t say I ever consciously recognized that the hard seed pods found under these trees at some point during the spring bloom with a thousand wispy flower elements. Picking one and squeezing the still green center of the seed, an almost solvent-like smell of fresh eucalyptus was released. The aroma was almost nothing at all, like the smell that wafts through the warm California air.

Because not all coasts along the Pacific Ocean look the same, one should explore as many as possible to discover the many sights on offer.

Good thing we’re on backroads instead of Highway 1, or we would have missed the guy on the side of the road. We actually turned around after remembering we had some cash, and for $15, we bought half a case or six baskets of fresh GIANT strawberries. Plenty of other times, we’ve been fooled by a layer of golfball-sized berries that were hiding tiny berries below, but not this time. As it was already after lunch and we were a bit hungry, we probably ate half this crate in the next 15 minutes.

Welcome to the SS Palo Alto at Seacliff State Beach in Aptos, California. This broken old ship made of concrete was built for service during World War I, but it never saw battle and was decommissioned in 1929. Apparently, it was once part of the pier system and used for fishing, but subsequent storms over the years have torn the ship apart, and the pier is now falling apart, too.

That yarn in Caroline’s hands is destined to become a pair of socks; she’s seen here after picking it out for me at The Yarn Shop In Santa Cruz.

Lunch followed at Taqueria Los Pericos, which was what came up after searching for the best burrito in Santa Cruz: they deserve that title.

I’ll give you three guesses as to why the park we are at right now is called Natural Bridges State Beach. Also of note, I’m sunburned to a crisp by now, as not only did we forget my hat in Arizona, but we left our sunblock at the motel back in Pacific Grove! Of course, Caroline applied sunblock to herself before we left, and she had her hat on. It’s always about Caroline and what she needs. I beg for sunblock reminders as I burn easily but she always forgets about me, ALWAYS! By the way, if she tries editing this to say I refuse the sunblock and my hat, she’s lying because she’s ALWAYS LYING, I swear! Though, on rare occasions, I’ve been known to need to stretch the truth, but NEVER about her and her constant neglecting me…not that I’m complaining. [really, John…? ಠ_ಠ]

With my face so burned as to be peeling off my skull in a blistering, pus-drenched ooze of juicy, crunchy bits, I refused to consider a 4-mile roundtrip hike through Wilder Ranch State Park down to the beach and instead opted to stop just north of the park where as luck would have it the reflection of the sun off the ocean probably permanently disfigured me, which is also Caroline’s fault. Why it’s her fault is still being worked out in my mind as I write this, but I’ll be sure to share my reasoning once a clever enough amount of convincing blame can be assigned without embarrassing me for embellishing a story.

As my eyes were welling with tears from the pain I was so stoically enduring, Caroline began to recognize the life-threatening situation I was facing. Without cell service this far out in the middle of nowhere (we were nearly 60 miles from San Francisco at this point), she insisted I pull over into Año Nuevo State Park. Somehow, she remembered that there was a payphone near the entry station. This memory is from 16 years ago when we last visited, but it was just my luck that the payphone no longer worked, so I laid down and cried. Caroline cruelly likely knew beforehand that the phone didn’t work and that sepsis was setting in; she brought me here to the edge of sanity just to watch me suffer. Through it all, though, I still love her a lot. [oh, ok then… ಠ‿ಠ]

Enough of the shenanigans. After learning that the elephant seals at Año Nuevo State Park would not be visited on this trip either, as was our experience 16 years ago, we decided we’d go as far as Pigeon Point Lighthouse and turn around. From here, we were only 50 miles from San Francisco, but this type of vacation is definitely not conducive to visiting big cities; as a matter of fact, Santa Cruz, with its 64,500 people, was nearly too big for our senses after only four days away.

This appears to be our third visit to Pigeon Point; the first was with my mother-in-law in May of 2005, and our second visit was seven months later in December 2005. We may have passed it again since then, but there’s no note of it to be found here on the blog. There is a hostel on the property we could rent, but for the two of us in a place that hosts six for the price of $400 a night, it feels a bit steep.

Sadly, the lighthouse is in poor shape. When we were here last, the Fresnel lens was still in the lantern room, and I took a great shot that captured a slice of light from above, but now the lens has been moved into a nearby building for its own safety until a time when the tower can be renovated.

With a final glance at the ocean in the late day, we turned south for our return to Monterey, where we were once again eating with Hee-Kyong who owns Wonju Korean Restaurant. She was such a terrific host the other night, and we feel that any little bit we can help support her business might be helpful. Back at the motel by 9:00 p.m., it was later than we’d have preferred, and tragically, this is our last night at Lovers Point Inn in Pacific Grove, but tomorrow, a wholly new adventure awaits us.

Sunday at the Aquarium

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Caroline Wise at Red House Café in Pacific Grove, California

Breakfast was at the Red House Cafe just up the street from our hotel and around the corner from the glimmering sun shining on the bay. It was a good thing we showed up when we did as only about 15 later, the wait for people showing up went from “seated immediately,” like we were, to approximately 45 minutes. My frittata with avocado and a side of bacon and Caroline’s breakfast sandwich were both great, and while tempted to stick with what we know for tomorrow’s breakfast, we will be trying a place called Toasties Café.

Pacific Grove, California

The ulterior motive for finding places within walking distance of our hotel is that we have a parking place nearly in front of our door, and the aquarium is only a little more than a mile away, so we can walk nearly everywhere we need to be. And what’s not to love about these kinds of views?

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

This is the second day the Monterey Bay Aquarium has been open in more than a year, and here we are on opening weekend. Capacity has been greatly reduced, and the first two weeks are open exclusively to members only; lucky us. From more than 17,000 people on busy days, operations have been scaled down to only 1,700 as they experiment with what will work to keep staff and visitors safe. We’re in line and couldn’t be more excited, even if we were 5-year-olds going into Disneyland for the first time. As a matter of fact, this might as well be any theme park on Earth right now, making dreams come true.

During the first hour, only 200 visitors were let in. I can’t emphasize how perfect this is as we’ve been here on busy days that only discouraged the idea of ever wanting to return.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

Our first stop was at the Kelp Forest, wherewith the pulse and sway of so much beauty, Caroline’s tears joined in the flow with the oh-so-familiar music, guaranteeing her emotions would go sailing. This is where the mandatory mask policy came in handy as not only do they hide the emotional outbreak on the lower half of her face, but the top of the mask can also be used to mop up tears that escape her eyes.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

Like our drive at 18mph up the coast yesterday, we are trying to maintain a velocity that might confuse others into believing we are chitons, moving imperceptibly. We couldn’t tell you if anything has ever changed in the Kelp Forest over the years; for all we know, these are the exact same fish that were here on our very first visit back in 1991. We continue to sit right here, enchanted that there isn’t a massive crowd forming, just us and the sway reminiscent of the tide pushing things to and fro.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

The elusive octopus remained so and spurred Caroline into wondering if a donation of sufficient bribery size might get us into a behind-the-scenes opportunity to have a close encounter with one of these fascinating creatures. I think we’ll likely inquire with management tomorrow how something like this could come to pass.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

We are not competing with others to gain close-up views of the fish; we don’t have to allow small children to step through to have their moment, as everyone is following social distancing guidelines and remaining appropriately separated.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

While hard to see, I’m posting these skeleton shrimp today because tomorrow I may not get one even this good, if this can be considered that. These guys or gals are tiny, and how a guide we had years ago while kayaking the Strait of Juan de Fuca saw one in some kelp at the surface still remains a mystery to me.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

You might think we’ve grown tired of seeing anemones due to the numbers of them seen in tidepools and snorkeling over the many years we’ve been exploring coastal waters, but you’d be wrong, as all anemones are special in our eyes. Should you ever be so lucky to visit the Monterey Bay Aquarium, you’ll see hundreds of these creatures on display and will likely be inclined to start naming them just as we do. This particular specimen is named Ganymede Jones.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

I took a really nice photo of this American Avocet head-on, but you can’t see the curve in its beak, so I chose my second favorite. The other 72 pictures I took of this bird didn’t make the cut. Seriously though, I didn’t take quite that many.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

If you are familiar with the aquarium, you’ll know that we are upstairs in the Splash Zone, where the tropical fish and penguins reside.

Caroline Wise at the Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

This is probably for kids, but Caroline fit so back into the egg she went. Back, you ask? Caroline was once an egg found under a cabbage leaf many years ago. Click here for proof.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

Steve the Eel was happy to welcome us back after our four-year absence. That he still remembered us was a big surprise, but seeing his smile again warmed our hearts just as it did on our first encounter.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

If you, too, are thinking I should consider starting a side business in fish portraiture, I’m inclined to believe there’s an opportunity here going untapped.

Caroline Wise at the Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

While it was already lunchtime when I started writing this, our meal was done, and Caroline was nearly finished with her can of Alvarado Street Pils she mixed with a bottle of Lemon Seltzer. We need to get walking again as we only have about three hours left here. It’ll be evening by the time I get to transfer the hundreds of photos I shot today with hopes of reducing the count to a mere couple of dozen, maybe three dozen, but seriously, no more than that.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

We know our way around the aquarium, and while on one hand, the beautiful weather here in the Monterey Bay begs us to be out there listening to the shorebirds and crashing surf right now, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to linger out here in the next few days.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

With two days available to visit the aquarium, there is no rush. If we feel like lingering, we have all the luxury in the world to do just that.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

It was just about here that Caroline gasped in the horror of recognizing that having salmon poke for lunch with a beer produces burps that back-flow from the mask right into the nose and they aren’t pretty. Hopefully, my wife doesn’t edit out this bit of too-much-info [I was sorely tempted – Caroline].

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

If I had to wager, I’d say that the jellies and the otters are the two most popular exhibits, and for good reason. The otters look cuddly and sweet, though if you saw one of them captured, you’d be rightfully afraid of them. Otters are big and pry open clams with their bare paws, so while their images are sold as a loving plushy, just ask the last bird that was pulled into its maw how cute these creatures are. Jellies, on the other hand, excluding the Portuguese Man o’ War, are non-aggressive angelic floating sea clouds that pose on command, showing the wonders of the universe in their psychedelic inner folds where time dissolves into the sea.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

The nemesis tank is how I refer to this giant window on the deeper ocean. While always entertaining with its tuna darting around and a couple of turtles swimming around above them, it is notoriously difficult to photograph those things that ply the waters of the Open Ocean.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

Every visit to the aquarium we’ve ever made has always introduced us to creatures we’ve never seen before but there are consequences that come with that.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

Certain animals on display you might hope to see on a subsequent visit might be replaced and so it was with the missing nautiloids that disappeared years ago and the giant cuttlefish that change colors. Well, at least there are these squids that are obviously from an alien dimension theorized to exist by Michio Kaku in his landmark book, “Squids Are Smarter Than You And Are Aliens.”

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

Mini cuttlefish were better than no cuttlefish. I’m asking Caroline to have this engraved on the tombstone I won’t have, as my instructions are to be cremated upon death so this is a non-starter for deeper conversations that might include anybody else’s opinions for what is appropriate.

Staring at this photo, hopelessly lost for something witty to write about it, I got to thinking about cloning and splicing DNA, especially in human genetics, and realized that cuttlefish or squid DNA responsible for the wild gyrations in color would be conducive to offering future generations of people some truly unique appearance characteristics.

Caroline Wise at the Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

Well, here it is at 4:00 p.m. with an hour to go before the aquarium closes, and it’s time for a coffee and a large glass of water. For while we are surrounded by water, I find very few fountains to slake my thirst; that or I’m too focused on taking 1000s of photos. (Okay, it’s only 609 so far). Actually, I don’t really want to write anything at the moment, as watching the waves roll in while sipping my coffee is mesmerizing. It’s almost strange how soothing the ocean is on a calm sunny day when one stops to think of the roiling abyss that, to a human lost in the middle of it, would appear to be an inescapable infinity. But there it is in all of its mystery, somehow talking to me, reassuring my senses that everything is fine.

In forty-five minutes, the aquarium will close, and while we have all day here tomorrow, we are considering asking for passes for a 3:00 p.m. entry on…nope, I was just reminded that this place is closed on Tuesday and Wednesday for cleaning and evaluating how the first few days of being open are going. And after learning that, we now have about 30 minutes to race through the kelp exhibit. Time to run, but I’ll return.

Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey Bay, California

The lights are being turned off, and the fish are snuggling up as they pair off to head to sleepy land, or would that be a watery world?

As for us, we headed over to Wonju Restaurant, a Korean place we ate at the last time we were in Monterey. After the carnage of a year without tourism, the other Korean restaurants shut down and this one is hopeful to survive after being at the same location for 27 years now. Do we have recommendations here? Well, I’ll vouch for the Bibimbap being a solid and hearty dish; while Caroline’s flounder and tofu soup was great, I know it was great because I tried it.

Pacific Grove, California

The temperature was dropping fast as the sun dipped out of the sky. While both of us would have enjoyed staying out for another hour or two, I’m trying my best not to fall too far behind in blogging about our experience before we’ve collected even more impressions further down the road.

Up The Coast We Go

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

How is it we’d never explored Carpenteria before? It’s a nice little town by the ocean that’s every bit as beautiful as Santa Barbara. We started the morning at the Carpenteria State Beach next to the Santa Cruz campground. With a little breeze and some serious humidity, the temperature felt a lot colder than in Arizona. After a short walk along the shore, we started our long drive north that, instead of the 4-hour jaunt it should take, might turn into a 10-hour meander for us.

We are on Highway 101, and if we’re not careful, we’ll pass out on the road due to the deep breaths we take, trying to savor every hint of the eucalyptus that permeates the air and interior of the car. That is, until a skunk makes itself known and has us wondering if it’s hitching a ride. And no, it isn’t the smell of weed, though we smelled plenty of that last night at Motel 6.

Our next stop was at the Glen Annie / Storke Road offramp in Goleta, where instead of turning right, which would have brought us to our great aunt and uncle who used to live here just north of Santa Barbara, we turned left to go have breakfast at Cajun Kitchen, an old favorite of theirs. Keeping up the tradition of my aunt Ann, Caroline is having a side order of toast with coffee, though when we are done here; we’ll backtrack a few miles so she can indulge in a healthier breakfast at Backyard Bowls on Calle Real.

A note about yesterday: we played semi-truck bingo as we passed so many familiar shipping company brands hauling stuff back and forth across the desert. From Old Dominion and Covenant to Swift and Werner, we ticked them off the list. Sadly, Sweet Simon with the skunk logo wasn’t seen, but then again, it’s been years since one of those trucks was seen on an American highway.

And what about breakfast at Cajun Kitchen? You can’t go back; it’s not the same without our family members. Nostalgia is a bittersweet dish that prods us to realize we should move on and away from things that can never be the same again, especially those places that are so intertwined with others.

Out of shared experiences with others and on to adventures shared by the two of us. We’ve been up this road plenty of times to be quite familiar with the golden rolling hills of the Central California Coast, but only rarely have we been here in Spring, when things are vibrantly green with bursts of color splashed upon the landscape. Yellow flowers appear and then quickly disappear. Getting a photo of them is difficult, with few places to pull over on this road and most everyone moving along at nearly 80mph. The photo I wanted remained elusive, while the one I took failed to show the grandeur.

Let’s Knit in Grover Beach was our first yarn store visit of the day. Caroline is holding one of my next pairs of socks in her hand. In her right hand is her mask, which I asked her to take off so I can capture her smile. California is remaining vigilant about masks and hand sanitizer. Some locations still have mask mandates in place outdoors, although the CDC has backed off of that necessity. Yes, maybe we’ve drunk the Kool-Aid, but things feel better here with people being aware compared to the Wild West circus we are going through in Arizona. But enough about COVID; we are here for yarn, coast, fish, and great weather.

From Grover Beach up to SLO, as it’s known up this way, or San Luis Obispo, we stopped at the old Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa only because of its location across the street from, guess what?

Yarns…At The Adobe. While I grabbed another skein of fingering weight yarn for yet more socks, Caroline went hunting for some locally dyed crimped yarn that would find its way into a shawl. With no other business in SLO and 137 miles remaining on our SLOW drive north on Highway 1, well, that and the fact that we only paid for 24 minutes of parking meter time, we left town in search of more yarn and our next encounter with the ocean.

Great day for a drive.

Our first stop to take in the ocean is at a place we’ve never been before, Estero Bluffs, just north of Cayucos.

I learned as I’m writing this up that there’s also an Estero Bluffs State Park, but that’s further north up by San Simeon, another 20 miles up the highway. How these two locations share the same name is a puzzle I’m not solving here. By the way, the crowds heading up the coast today I was anticipating due to the road south of Big Sur being reopened never really materialized.

When we reached Cambria, where we were staying the next weekend, we were hungry for lunch and, of course, more yarn. We got the important stuff out of the way first with a visit to Ball & Skein & More. While it should have taken us 2 hours to cover the stretch of road we’ve traveled so far, we are now 5 hours into this journey with no intention of speeding up.

Outdoor seating in springtime has its advantages, and here at Robin’s Restaurant, it comes in a beautiful garden setting with properly socially distanced tables. It seems the kitchen got behind, but how could we care about that when we are enjoying the nearly cold breeze coming in off the coast?

There’s a section of road here in Cambria we’ve never traveled that runs along the ocean, and across the street from the hotel we will be checking into on Friday. We’ll have more time along this stretch of the sea soon enough.

Flowers are blooming everywhere, and if wasn’t for the fact that I already have 28 photos included in this post, I could have included more of everything from rolling hills to the ocean. Considering I feel inclined to write something with each photo, I only create more pressure on myself when I get carried away with showing the nicer aspects of our travels.

If I’ve never stated it before, it is my goal with these travel posts to share the arc of the day and what others can experience if they are NOT in a hurry to get somewhere. You see, years and years ago, there was a magazine called Giant Robot, and one of their features was called something like “My Perfect Day.” In those articles, they asked artists, musicians, and other creative types to describe a perfect day for themselves in the city they were living in, such as Tokyo, Edinburgh, San Francisco, or Sao Paolo. It was always a treat to read how a graffiti artist in Brazil might wake up for breakfast at their favorite little cafe, go record shopping, walk through a shopping district, stop to meet up with friends for a beer, and close out their day with activities that made them happy such as painting or whatever. With that in mind, I try to show a perfect travel day where Caroline and I are fully experiencing every moment of the day.

I mean, what’s the alternative? Lay around in the sun, fart, and go for a swim like these elephant seals? Well, I suppose, in some ways, that’s exactly what we are doing today.

The colony of elephant seals out here at Piedras Blancas is huge, and this was just the northern side of their on-land home.

Posting images of this place is an exercise of my obsessive-compulsive nature because we’ve stayed here once, years ago, and loved it. It’s been closed for many years now, and we thought it was supposed to be destroyed by the State, but instead, nature is taking its long, slow hand to remove it from its perch on the sea.

I’m telling you, I could have posted dozens of photos of flowers today.

I could have also shared dozens of photos of twisty, winding roads clinging precariously to the edges of mountains that drop precipitously down to the ocean.

With hairpin turns and vistas that beg us to pull over and linger in such impressively beautiful sights.

And then get out of the car again and fight the winds that work so hard to trigger my vertigo as we get close to the edge for photos that will remind us forever of the places we’ve been.

You are looking at a couple of miles of road that snake along the foot of these mountains. While it might be difficult to see in this smaller version of the photo, the road is out there as a thin tan line cut into the slope. Should you be wondering why I’m not waxing about the aquamarine color of the ocean and the silvery sheen where the sun is reflecting off the Pacific, it’s because my treasury of descriptive language has limits, especially when reduced to oohs and aahs, as we stand, astonished that we are once again in such a gorgeous place.

Nope, there’s no yarn out there, but we are starting to see some shifting in the weather.

Where’d this come from? Have we seen it before? Did I photograph this on a previous road trip up Highway 1? Well, it’s new to us today and looks remarkable from our perspective.

The waterfall is missing in action here at the Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park. I can’t say we’ve ever seen a situation where it was absolutely dry.

While things look beautiful here at the Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, California, like Arizona, is experiencing drought conditions. Oh, we’ve finally reached Big Sur.

As we expected, the Big Sur Bakery was closed when we arrived, and our hunt for eucalyptus soap also came up empty-handed, but we did get this sweet photo of an amazing flower.

One minute later, we drove into this wall of clouds, and for the rest of the late afternoon, we were in drizzle and gray. That earlier estimate of turning a 4-hour drive into a 10-hour drive was a little off by 3 hours, as it took us 13 hours to travel the 240 miles to our destination in Pacific Grove just south of Monterey. I’ll save you the math; we averaged 18 miles per hour today, or 29 km/h.

Dinner was at Wild Fish Restaurant on Lighthouse Avenue, just a short walk from our hotel. Oysters, mussels, red snapper, and sable were the menu items that found their way to our table and that piece of chocolate strawberry cake we shared.

We are staying at the Lovers Point Inn at Lovers Point because, of course, we are!

Travel Habits

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Caroline Wise and John Wise in Phoenix, Arizona

Leaving Phoenix, Arizona, before noon is a luxury. Heck, leaving anywhere at any time is a luxury. A sure sign of aging is that I no longer really feel comfortable taking selfies when I’m driving, so we took this one in the parking lot as we were about to depart. At times over the years, this was a habit that preceded almost every trip, but we’ve gotten lax about it in recent years.

Most preparations for this vacation were finished by yesterday; all that was left today was picking up a bag of ice for the ice chest, some raspberries, and cashews. With all of that out of the way, I tried planting myself at King Coffee to get some writing done, but all I could think about was departing the valley. Then, about 4 hours before I thought we’d leave, Caroline told me she was ready to go. After a stop at In-N-Out on the far west of Phoenix, we were ready to embark on the long haul over the desert.

California Stateline

As we left, the plan had been to drive into California on Interstate 10 and make our way to either Tehachapi or Bakersfield, but having this extra time available, we detoured in the direction of Santa Barbara. Stopping to take pictures at state lines was also an old habit that fell out of favor; again, we’re fixing these omissions.

Kia Niro dashboard in the desert of California

We were supposed to have our first 100-degree day (38c) in Phoenix tomorrow, May 1st. So, how the hell is it 110 (43 Celsius) here in the California desert on April 30th?

Traveling Interstate 10 in Southern California

Why would anyone get off the freeway to take a photo at an empty offramp that seemingly leads nowhere? I’ll give you one guess. Note that there are no bushes or anything to hide behind out here, so you know it wasn’t Caroline who demanded we take this exit.

Pad Kee Mow at Mix Bowl in Pomona, California

Once in the Los Angeles area, or Pomona, to be more precise, we stopped at Mix Bowl on Indian Hill Blvd. Being early afforded us the time to sit down for dinner at an old favorite place of ours. We’d not been here in countless years, but we did recognize one of the guys working there. I looked up an old photo here on my blog and showed him a picture of the place we had taken back in January 2001 on our very first visit when it was still called Big Bowl before they were sued to change the name. While the fried morning glory is no longer on the menu, we were able to start with steamed koo chai and grilled pork before sharing one of the best pad kee mow with fried tofu that we know of. Some habits are worth the effort of maintaining.

Los Angeles, California

Dozens of offramps beg us to get off the freeway and go explore, snap some photos, and bask in nostalgia but with our destination up the road, we had to keep on driving. This was right at sunset when we were passing downtown Los Angeles on the 101. We finally pulled into Carpenteria shortly after 21:30 and snagged a room at Motel 6 for the relatively inexpensive price of only $110 minus tax with a veterans’ discount. Tomorrow, we head up the coast from here as we are right next to it, which gives us an extra 137 miles of the coastal region before reaching Cambria, where we were originally supposed to meet the ocean.