Going South in Maine – Day 8

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

How do you turn a 240-mile, four-and-a-half-hour drive into an all-day affair? You travel with John and Caroline. But if you do, be prepared for our flavor of crazy, such as leaving the motel at 5:30 in the morning. Waking to a clear sky and some brisk weather, we were prepared to indulge the senses with more Maine than was originally on the schedule and to limit it to a smaller area for the sake of taking in the environment.

We stayed overnight in Ellsworth because of its proximity to Bar Harbor and the Acadia National Park to the north, but on stepping out of our room, we decided that our first visit was enough and that we should explore new territory, so we headed south toward Surry, Maine which became the location for our first photo of the day.

As we continue to meander across the countryside, trying to balance hugging the shore using roads that aren’t always in the best place to capture glimpses of the larger bodies of water attached to the Atlantic and being aware that we have a destination we have to reach today, we come to Blue Hill, Maine. These little villages on the various inlets, bays, and rivers make it immediately clear why the Bush family is so enchanted with coastal Maine.

C&G Grocery in Sedgwick, Maine, is about the furthest we’ll head out on this peninsula today, though Little Deer Isle and the larger Deer Isle sandwiched between East Penobscot Bay and Jericho Bay are calling us.

Instead, we’ll continue our drive of exploration and consider those islands in the bay as places that will hopefully one day draw us back to Maine for a third encounter with the state. Further north, we were aware of how the land was just moving out of winter, but here we are starting to see signs of spring.

Castine comes into view and whispers in our eyes that maybe we’ve found one of the communities we’d like to spend some of our retirement in. The idealism layer we are allowed to drape over our perception to make a town or village into the image we desire is likely delusional, but it’s far better than looking at these bucolic locations through the filter of the angry side of the population who are frustrated by the lack of jobs. What kind of jobs do they often want out this way? Unsustainable ones that would destroy the seaside and pastoral appeal to those of us who are traveling as they strip the land of trees and drag every last fish and ounce of coal or oil out of the surrounding area.

Trinitarian Congregational Parish of Castine, Maine, was established in 1829 and proudly boasts of its Protestant heritage coming from the Puritans who left England to help establish the United States. The community of Castine also lays claim to being one of the longest continuously inhabited areas in North America, occupying this area since the early 1600s.

Dice Head Lighthouse here in Castine has been standing since it too was built back in 1829 though for decades now it sits decommissioned.

This small town is the epitome of a beautiful, if not perfect, seaside community. The population is tiny and gets even smaller as the local Maine Maritime Academy sees many of its students depart for Eastern Europe in early May aboard the training ship the State of Maine.

Heading up the coast on the Penobscot River, we spot and have to stop for this abandoned trawler that turns 70 years old this summer. Used originally as a fishing boat, it was acquired by the US Navy in 1942 and commissioned as the USS YP-414. Following the war, it reverted to its original name, FV Squall, and stayed in operation until it was removed from the registry of boats in 1977 and became a breakwater for the marina where it remains docked and rusting away.

Penobscot Narrows Bridge and Observatory in Prospect, Maine

We ate lunch at Verona Island’s Seabreeze Restaurant, which isn’t really important at all, but as we continued our trek south, we had to cross the Penobscot Narrows Bridge, which enchanted us with the feeling that we somehow knew this bridge. Getting home we learned that the cable-stayed bridge had just opened six months before and had been featured in the media as being one of the 100 best innovations of 2006.

Our second visit to the Purple Baboon in Belfast, Maine our first was back in 2000.

Add Belfast to the list of places we could call our summer home.

On the Little River in Belfast, just adding to the charm.

On Highway 1, we were driving along when I looked out to the sea and thought that might be a nice photo. Forget the sea view as I found this license plate from Maine that spells out VEGGIES. With Caroline being a vegetarian, it seemed like a sign from the universe that we are meant to be here instead of it just being a lucky find where someone lost a license plate off their car; that would be too simplistic an explanation. We dragged this back to Phoenix to hang on our wall as a souvenir of our time out here, seeing we couldn’t find anything else representative back at the Purple Baboon.

Chestnut Street Baptist Church in Camden, Maine, represents yet another faction of the Puritans as a separatist religion that was on its way to America to practice their flavor of fundamentalism back in the early 1600s. Four hundred years later, we’ve brainwashed ourselves into believing in a righteous form of Christianity to an extent that we cannot perceive our own radicalized beliefs, which, from my perspective, look a lot like Islamic fundamentalism. I resent these practices with a belief in some outer-space-inhabiting deity who is portrayed as a petty-minded bigot full of rage that casts unsaved souls into an abyss while rewarding whack jobs who propagate agendas of hate and intolerance with eternal life and/or virgins. Give me a break! Although I’ve got to admit that many religious buildings that celebrate their god(s) are amazing. Maybe we should pray to architecture?

Camden Marina plays host to vessels that should be ordained as holy craft as they shuttle the fragile souls of humans over the dark and mysterious seas, which have a fierce power to consume lives while offering nothing in the form of redemption. Maybe the sea is the real God?

Somewhere on Highway 1 on the way to Portland, I stop at my personal lord and savior who has set up shop in the back of the mobile church of commerce. I’m a Foodatarian who prays three times a day, sometimes five, in the direction of the dining table. On that altar, I crucify the body of the animal and vegetable before consuming their flesh as a sacrament. Sadly I practice some of the worst aspects of Catholicism as after consuming the soul of the meal that failed to accept me as the son of God; I banish it to a life in hell by turning it to shit and sending it into the darkness of the eternal sewer. Maybe that lobster stew will see the light and find my truth before it, too, must suffer damnation.

Last great view of the Maine coast before getting on the turnpike and cruising right through New Hampshire. I’m done with the religious stuff, well, at least until we get to Salem, Massachusetts, and we can start examining the religious zealotry that led to the burning of witches. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with humanity?

We should all go on vacation and worship beauty, pray to blue skies, and baptize ourselves in the waters of the sea for the sake of communing with the fishies.

You may have the impression that when we travel, we avoid large cities – you would be right. On this day, though, we intentionally made our way into the heart of Boston and grabbed a parking spot at the Boston Commons. Turns out that Boston really is a nice city, well, the little we saw of it. Diversity is the most obvious feature; history comes on quickly, and friendliness is just around the corner. Our tour was a fast one, with only two hours on the streets.

We checked out the grave of Paul Revere and tried to identify the exact spot of the Boston Massacre, which we were standing on, but the signage wasn’t very good (and it doesn’t help that this historic site is now a traffic island). For Caroline, the highlight would have been the site of the Boston Tea Party, but we couldn’t find it for the life of us – it appears the area is under construction and difficult to approach for the time being. A friendly guy on the street and his girlfriend told us how great Boston is and only felt sympathy for us living in Phoenix. Both had tried living in Phoenix but found it too impersonal and ‘cold.’ China Town is small compared to San Francisco’s, Washington D.C.’s, and Los Angeles’s China Towns, but hey, at least they have one.

Too bad we didn’t have more time to visit the historic side of Boston, but at least we are now intrigued and will hopefully find ourselves quickly returning to Beantown.

Our destination today is New Bedford, where we are staying at the Melville House Bed & Breakfast – right in Herman Melville’s old room; hooray for whales! After we checked in, we ventured into the old town and found some dinner at Freestone’s City Grill in a former bank built in 1872 that is part of the New Bedford Whaling National Historical Park. Besides a dish of local quahog, you should know that Caroline also enjoyed a Whale’s Tale Pale Ale!

Arriving at night was a stroke of luck as under the cover of darkness, the charm of 1850s New Bedford seemed to still be alive. Cobblestones and old-fashioned lights with the architecture looking much like it must have when Melville used it as part of the story that was as big as a whale.

This might have been Melville’s room but might not have been, as nobody knows for certain. It is known that Catherine Melville hosted her brother here, but it is also true that it was well after 1850 when Melville penned Moby Dick and his sister lived here. No matter these small details as after Caroline read this amazing book out loud in the car to us over the previous months, we are simply delighted in this opportunity to dwell in the shadow of Melville and what he captured 157 years ago.

West Quoddy Head Lighthouse – Day 7

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

We keep doing this thing of renting cabins out of some romantic idea that a cabin in the woods is the ideal location to get a real feeling of things. The amenities that are in these places don’t really lend anything to our experience since the place where we lay down our heads and grab a  shower has little impact on the quality of our day. Having the opportunity to barbecue is certainly a benefit, and if this lodging is far removed from the bustle of a city, then it is certainly more desirable than an expensive hotel. On the other hand, a cheap motel typically gives us all we need, including a much cheaper price.

This was our place in Stockholm, Maine, and even though it was twice the price of what we’d like to pay, we still wish we could hang out a couple more days.

We weren’t gone, but a few minutes before, the glimmer of the sun that shone on our cabin gave way to heavy cloud cover, followed by fog encroaching on our day, but that’s a bit later.

A vacation in Maine wouldn’t be complete without a quick stop at Hubcap Heaven in Littleton. Now we own this experience too.

This quadruple mailbox in Hodgdon caught our eye and had us wondering how often someone manages to stuff something into the top two boxes or if the owner welded those shut to stop any potential shenanigans.

Just down the street still in Hodgdon is a shoe tree. After smelling a few pairs, I can advise you to think twice about following suit.

We checked out this fixer-upper with the seller telling us it is common in Maine for empty homes to take a beating over the harsh cold season but that this wasn’t anything handymen weren’t familiar with.

On closer look, the kitchen showed promise, and the refrigerator was solid. We’ll have to think about this and maybe shop around to ensure this is the best deal, especially because we were hoping for something closer to the ocean.

This home almost has it all, including a beaver-maintained swimming pool.

OMG, I don’t even know if this is real. If this old gas station were for sale, this deal would be clinched as everything to get a clean start here on the East Coast could fall into place.

The interior of the station is impeccable and loaded with treasure; it should be a museum. We drove away from Waite, Maine, and these antiques, trying to stay close to the Canadian border until reaching Calais on Highway 1, where we stopped at the Sandwich Man for lunch. Why is this important? Because they are breadcrumbs for us to follow again someday, that’s why.

Eastport was the easternmost ‘city’ we visited, and a good thing we did as a bright yellow and red building caught our eye and demanded we stop. Eastport is home to Raye’s Mustard, the very last 100% stone-ground mustard maker in America. We ordered five varieties after sampling a dozen and had them shipped back to Arizona.

Our next stop was Lubec, Maine – the easternmost ‘town’ in the U.S. The distinction here is a fine one, but we learned both in Eastport and here in Lubec of the pride of being the easternmost town and easternmost city. We will visit the town proper after going to the lighthouse as we are having a break in the rain we’ve been driving through.

On the shore of the Lubec Channel fed by the Atlantic, Caroline doffed her shoes for a brief walk in the surprisingly warm gray waters before taking a short drive to the easternmost ‘point’ in the U.S. That’s the Lubec Channel Lighthouse and Canada behind here.

West Quoddy Head Lighthouse was heard before it was seen as the foghorn was blaring through the heavy fog. With this visit, we have now been to all four corners of America, from Mile Marker Zero in Key West, Florida, to the Cape Flattery trail and overlook in Washington, down to San Diego near the Mexican border. Oh yeah, we have also been to the geographical center of the contiguous United States near Lebanon, Kansas.

We were not going to bypass Lubec, as just snapping a photo at the Welcome To Lubec sign didn’t represent a real visit. Getting a decent photo in the worsening weather left a lot to be desired regarding the photogenic nature of the place.

It was already late in the day when we left the area on Boot Cove Road that hugged the Atlantic with nary another soul out there. With the fog, our drive became quite mysterious. Merging onto Highway 191 we headed in the direction of Machias for dinner at the Bluebird Ranch Family Restaurant before aiming for Mason Bay Road that brought us here to Jonesport.

We later learned that Jonesport is the home of Looks Lobster, the very first lobster reseller in the United States, but it was the whiff of smoke we caught on the way that hinted at a fish smoker in the area and alit our sense of smell with aromas that were teasing us with the desire to sample whatever that was. It’s late, though, and nothing is open out here.

Somewhere out there, the bridge and the sound of frogs take those willing to drive into the abyss out to Beals Island. The island is shrouded in dense fog obscuring our view and begs us to try to figure out where we are and what is happening deep in the mysterious mist. In the bay, a tiny floating dock appears to be an outhouse, but what would that be doing floating in the bay? For now, the circumstances regarding this toilet of mystery will remain outside our realm of knowledge.

The world disappeared with fog so thick we could hardly see 10 feet in front of the car. Good thing it seems that nobody is out there. Shortly before 9:00 p.m. and early on our clock, we finally arrived in Ellsworth at the Comfort Inn we booked over a month ago for the bargain price of only $57.

St. Lawrence Seaway, NY – Day 4

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Lillian "Luba" Knezetic and Robert Knezetic of Ozalj, Karlovac, Croatia

If I had to guess, I’d say this is the first portrait of Louisa Priezula and Blasius Knezetic in the United States somewhere near about 1905 after they passed through Ellis Island. My great-grandmother, while known as Luba in her village of Ozalj near Karlovac, Croatia, would become Lillian in America in order to better fit in. Blasius became Robert. Seven years after taking up residence in Buffalo, New York, they started having children, starting with my Uncle Bob and stopping at the seventh child, my Aunt Ann.

It’s a shame that I never dug deep into who my family was as I was too preoccupied with my own travails to be able to take much interest in people who felt distant and foreign, combined with the fact that I’d never know them. Growing older, I now know that I’d like to know more about their story, but those who could share and might have known something are all gone. Keep in mind that while I’m writing the majority of the blog entries from this trip in 2007 based on notes Caroline kept as we drove across the Eastern United States, is now 2020 when I’m finally assembling this. Hindsight is really at work these days: back in 2007, I felt like my family would somehow always be there – wrong.

Before leaving Buffalo, we stopped at Barnes & Noble to pick up a map of the United States, a coffee, and hopefully, something that would detail hiking and bike trails across the Buffalo region. Sadly, that kind of book does not exist.

Our route is moving in reverse of the trip my mom and I took a couple of years ago and so Caroline and I drive this abomination car called Mustang north through Lockport and Newfane up to Olcott Beach on Lake Ontario.

You just knew Caroline had to step into Lake Ontario at the first opportunity. From this point east, we’ll be traveling the Seaway Trail National Scenic Byway.

To some, these may be simple dandelions, but to these two people from the desert of Arizona, they are a field of glorious color.

Thirty Mile Point Lighthouse in Barker, New York, is only about 14 miles up the road from the previous lighthouse, but we are far from suffering from lighthouse fatigue, so we had to visit.

Why we find shoe trees so interesting is kind of strange, considering that this is likely not good for the tree. Either they are nailed to the poor tree, or they hang from the branches, and when the shoes get wet they probably put a lot of stress on it.

Charlotte Genesee Lighthouse was our next major stop along the byway. By the end of this trip, we’ll likely realize this journey to the Eastern United States should have been called the 2007 Lighthouse Tour. I should point out how nice it is to be out here with Caroline to enjoy the luxury of taking in the really important things and not being on a race to the next diner, restaurant, farmers market, ice cream stand, bakery, or winery as I was with my mom back in 2005.

Well, speaking of food. Mom and I stopped here, and I fell in love with the location right on Lake Ontario, so it seemed like a great place to bring Caroline for lunch. We had a Red Plate and a Guppy Plate, which are both haddock but in different portion sizes. Still hungry, I also ordered a Texas Hot. No wonder I’m fat. For those who may not know, a Texas Hot is a charbroiled hot dog with a red chili sauce. It’s a Western New York thing, so now you know. To top it all off, we each had a Birch Beer that might best be described as a kind of root beer.

Visiting Rudy’s Lakeside Drive-In in Oswego, New York. I wonder what kind of idiot is driving that ugly, poorly designed-Mustang out front? Oh yeah, I’m the idiot. I seriously wish we’d exchanged this thing for something else, anything else, even a moped.

Driving along, looking at the fruit trees in bloom, recently plowed fields, and the occasional glimpse of the St. Lawrence Seaway on our left, Caroline and I are attuned with senses on high alert, looking for spots that make us say ‘wow.’ This small streambed with barely an inch of water running over clean bedrock was just one of the moments. On this afternoon, we were traveling northeast on New York Route 12 to its terminus in Morristown, NY, before getting on NY 37. As usual, we passed over the stream and, recognizing the beauty of the location, had to turn around, park the car, and walk out over the bridge to take the shot. If I had a wish, it would be that we were biking this road. It is quiet out here; the occasional scent of flowers and sweet grasses is just dreamy; it’s hard to imagine the harshness of winter that just passed through before us.

There are many waterways, creeks, and streams along the road. Each is photogenic in its own right but we are recognizing that we are now starting to run behind. While our schedule is flexible, we booked rooms for each and every night, so we do have destinations we need to get to, and in some cases, we need to check in well before midnight.

At times, the road couldn’t be any closer to the water, and the flies couldn’t be thicker. I don’t believe we’ve ever encountered thicker clouds of flying insects before being out here. While some of the photos could portray just how bad they were, Photoshop came to the rescue to remove the blurs that added nothing to these photos or our memories.

Tibbetts Point Lighthouse in Cape Vincent, New York at the mouth of the Saint Lawrence Seaway. We are only 100 miles away from Massena, New York, up the seaway, but at our speed, it will be midnight before we arrive. Time to hit the gas.

Amazing photos along the seaway are not here but the memories hopefully travel with us. Dinner was at Bauernstube Restaurant for German food. This is the same place my mom and I had breakfast a couple of years ago. Hmm, wasn’t I just saying this trip isn’t all about food?

The Lakeview Motel in Massena, New York, for the bargain-basement price of only $55 a night was ours. What do you think? Was the view worth it?

Sunrise in Santa Cruz

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Sunrise looking out over a lighthouse in Santa Cruz, California

The day starts shortly before 6:00 a.m., and lucky for us it did. This sunrise is courtesy of our perch on the shore in Santa Cruz, California.

Linda's Seabreeze Cafe in Santa Cruz, California

Our excellent breakfast was at Linda’s Seabreeze Cafe, which, along with the lighthouse view, made for the perfect beginning to the day.

Elkhorn Slough in Moss Landing, California

Of special note: this post is being updated in February 2023 with the addition of 13 photos that were also taken during this trip from November 2006. They weren’t included back then as bandwidth limitations restricted be to 1 photo per post. The original text that described the day has been distributed between the new photos and, where possible, expanded upon.

Caroline Wise at Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey, California

Monterey begged us to stop to visit some of the locations we had just finished reading about in Steinbeck’s Cannery Row. Visiting the aquarium today wasn’t to happen as with more than 700 miles needing to be covered, free time is at a premium.

Big Sur, California

Maybe stupidly, maybe indulgently, we opted to skip Highway 101, which travels inland at quite a fast pace and took good old Highway 1 south along the coast.

Big Sur, California

We are suckers for the Pacific; even if it does mean we won’t get home until almost 2:30 in the morning. The weather along the coast was picture-perfect all day.

Big Sur, California

We often stop to take photos of places we’d like to stay in the future but nearly always fail to reference the old directories to find those clues. Maybe if I’d been able to write extensive posts during these days, we’d have had an easier way of finding the hints but the truth is that blog posts are not always easy things to search when looking for specific information.

Big Sur, California

Caroline asked for a stop at the Big Sur River Inn General Store to pick up her all-time favorite Eucalyptus Soap from Big Sur Country Soap. A coffee stop at the Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant is now a part of our routine – we have lost count of how many times we have been here. The view is from Nepenthe Restaurant and gift shop.

Big Sur, California

If it were possible to commit every shift in perspective to be experienced along the central California coast in our memories, Caroline and I would collect and cherish each and every one. Having made this pilgrimage seemingly countless times and finding the reality of our adventures no less exciting than the first journey, the photos drawn from those days work to draw us back and remind us of how fortunate we’ve been to drive Highway 1 as frequently as we have.

Big Sur, California

One hundred years ago, the only way anyone was going to see this view was to take a seriously long walk from points inland, or they would have boarded a ship plying California’s coastal waters, dropping the person at one of the few ports so they could make the cumbersome travel over the rugged terrain. Today, we jump in the car and drive 15 to 20 times faster than we could walk and pull over to take it all in. We live in an incredible age where I don’t think we always see clearly how lucky we are.

Lucia Lodge in Big Sur, California

Lucia Lodge is not cheap, but the location is hard to beat.

Elephant Seals in San Simeon, California

A final pullover to see the elephant seals near San Simeon once again, and then it was serious business to get home – it took another 12 hours before we would put our sleepy heads to rest.

Highway 46 looking west in California.

Okay, just one more look back at the beautiful sea.

James Dean Memorial Junction in Cholame, California

While we didn’t have time to visit the James Dean Memorial itself, we snapped this photo to remind us to return. As of 2023, we’ve passed through here a few more times but still haven’t paid homage to the memorial.

Hawaii Vacation – Day 1 (Oahu)

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Disclaimer: Back in May of 2006, when I started posting about our vacation to the Hawaiian Islands, we were severely limited regarding photos I could share due to bandwidth limitations. Here in 2022, I’m updating these posts using the original image and text I shared, but I’m adding the rest of the photos I would have liked to share if bandwidth and storage had not been issues 16 years ago. 

Best flight ever to depart on, even though we were up at 4:00 a.m. this morning to arrive at the airport at 5:30. What made it so great? At the waiting area of our gate, there were two ladies who talked to everyone about the islands and performed a couple of hula dances. Even before leaving the crispy brown innards of the Arizona desert, we were in the mood for lush island life. Once in the air, we were treated to the taste of Aloha Pass-O-Guava, and over the next nearly dozen days, we’d fall in love with all things passion fruit.

We arrived in Honolulu on Oahu by direct flight at midday, but this was not our ultimate destination for the day. We have a six-hour stopover, allowing us to take a short drive around the southeastern corner of the island toward Diamond Head.

Caroline doesn’t always wear hibiscus flowers in her hair, but when she does, it’s in Hawaii.

There’s no need for us to try and get off some beaten path as every sight is new to us. This view is from the Lanai Lookout and is probably known to everyone who has visited Oahu, but we’d never seen it before, so this is the best location ever to stop at. Until we get to the next stop.

The view is from Highway 72, looking out to Kachikaipu and Manana Islands; the overlook is known as the Makapuu Lookout.

The reason the previous photo is from the Makapuu Lookout was that we were on the Makapuu Lookout Lighthouse Trail. The lighthouse can be seen off in the distance. With only about six hours on Oahu, we are trying to be well aware of how long we linger at every stop as we have no good idea of how far it is back to the airport.

Caroline doesn’t always stop to stand in the ocean but when she does….oh wait, she does stop to stand in every ocean, lake, river, stream, or other body of water she comes across.

Goodbye Honolulu, it’s like we barely got to know you, maybe another day.

Earlier in the day, we were in the state capital of conformity known as Phoenix, and now we’re on a lush green tropical island surrounded by blue. This kind of contrast made for a dramatic refocusing. After landing in Hilo, we tried sneaking into the Merrie Monarch Festival; okay, we didn’t really try sneaking in as much as we were on the grounds when someone asked to see our passes.

After a brief encounter with Hilo and effectively being kicked out of the festival, we took off down south to check into our lodging for the night at the Volcanoes National Park. Along the way, we ran into this crew who were operating a roadside restaurant in a couple of converted shipping containers. With their recommendations, we went with the pork laulau for me and the squid laulau on seaweed for Caroline. While certainly a cliche, should this have been our only day in Hawaii we’ve seen beautiful sights that will stay with us forever.

Seabreeze Cafe in Santa Cruz, California

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Linda's Seabreeze Cafe in Santa Cruz, California

Attention: These posts following our coastal Christmas-thru-New-Year’s trip are named a bit specifically, that’s because when these were originally shared, they only had one photo each due to bandwidth limitations back in the day. Since that time, I’ve updated them to include images that relate to the details of each day.

Wow, what a find – The Seabreeze Cafe in Santa Cruz, California, and they were open on New Year’s Day!!! We had originally stopped a few days ago on our way up the coast based on a tip from the cashier at Dharma’s Vegetarian Restaurant. This was Caroline’s plate: it is an oat and corn flour waffle topped with fresh pineapple, banana, kiwi, mango, yogurt, and a dusting of toasted macadamia and coconut with a hint of ginger. A great start to the new year and a future stop on our journeys up the Pacific coast.

Santa Cruz, California

It’s overcast and stormy, making us happy on one hand that we bailed out of the north as maybe they are taking the brunt of it, but then again, we could have had blue skies, which would have been a nice touch. What wasn’t nice was that we got a flat with a nail through the tire. There was no way I was going to drive on the spare all the way back to Phoenix, especially down Highway 1, which already offers a goodly amount of pucker value due to the narrow road that hugs the coast, er, um, I mean cliffs.

Big Sur, California

Barely visible on the right is the Bixby Bridge, and while it might be argued that the coast is less than stellar on overcast days, I’d like to offer that being able to see this amazing coast in any condition is a gift.

Big Sur, California

Clouds rising from the forest with redwoods hidden back there add to the beauty.

Big Sur, California

The waterfall is a part of the Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, but the greenish/brown turbid water must be from some nearby runoff as we’ve seen this waterfall before, and that tiny amount of water is certainly not what is discoloring the ocean.

Big Sur, California

Oh shit, landslide ahead. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that I honestly and desperately wanted to turn around rather than face what might lie ahead. My mind is racing as to when half a mountain will just slide into the ocean, and with all this rain we’ve had in the last few days, I can easily see just that happening any minute.

Big Sur, California

And then it’s our turn to run the gauntlet, passing observers who are monitoring what’s going on above. Oh my god…are those rocks an indicator of a much larger fall that’s about to ensue? I’m not happy, though maybe I would have been more unhappy had I turned around and skipped the rest of the coast. Once we are out of the danger zone, I start to breathe again. Though I’m done taking photos for the day I just want to reach someplace dry without cliffsides that drop an infinity down to the furious ocean below.