So, I messed up. Instead of taking the Pacific Coast Highway, I failed to merge and ended up traveling back through the wine country on 101. When I got to Monterrey, I doubled back and traveled southward toward Big Sur and the Pfeiffer State Park. I was not disappointed.
I think I've failed to mentioned that, on my last day in Santa Barbara, my dear [new] friend Laurel had scribbled out about 5 pages of notes for my journey northward. It was pretty much an essay of unforgettable sights and hot springs. God bless'er.
Silly me, I hadn't looked too closely at the notes yet, but I did remember her mention 'Big Sur,' and fate brought me the rest of the way.
I think I've failed to mentioned that, on my last day in Santa Barbara, my dear [new] friend Laurel had scribbled out about 5 pages of notes for my journey northward. It was pretty much an essay of unforgettable sights and hot springs. God bless'er.
Silly me, I hadn't looked too closely at the notes yet, but I did remember her mention 'Big Sur,' and fate brought me the rest of the way.
(squish)After a[nother] glorious sunset, I finally found a campground I could afford, situated quite pleasantly in the redwood forest. Julia Pfeiffer State Park Campground was closed due to some 2007 fires. Again, fate.
So after signing in, and giving my preliminary "put me away from other people because I am going to play the guitar - badly," I settled down at my site and started poking at a fire. Hours later, the hippy behind the registration desk shows up at my car and invites me to his cabin to play guitar badly together. Bored, and craving some socializing, I follow the fellow. Bad music ensued, and he convinced me to find Pfeiffer Beach with him in the morning. Okay, whatever; unsure if I'll ditch out or not, I head back to my car and sleep.
Eventually I decided to follow the hippy. He seemed harmless enough, and I couldn't exactly sneak out of the campground - I slept in, of course, and still needed to shower. And he'd already come-a-knockin' on my window that A.M.
I tell ya, I learned something that day. Following hippies can be quite the worthwhile adventure:
So after signing in, and giving my preliminary "put me away from other people because I am going to play the guitar - badly," I settled down at my site and started poking at a fire. Hours later, the hippy behind the registration desk shows up at my car and invites me to his cabin to play guitar badly together. Bored, and craving some socializing, I follow the fellow. Bad music ensued, and he convinced me to find Pfeiffer Beach with him in the morning. Okay, whatever; unsure if I'll ditch out or not, I head back to my car and sleep.
Eventually I decided to follow the hippy. He seemed harmless enough, and I couldn't exactly sneak out of the campground - I slept in, of course, and still needed to shower. And he'd already come-a-knockin' on my window that A.M.
I tell ya, I learned something that day. Following hippies can be quite the worthwhile adventure:
(hippie)
(small, sketchy little break. awesome height, questionable landing...)
(natural bridge)
(purple sanded paradise)
(why we follow hippies)
(more hippies!)
(the view from above)
Then we were joined by even more hippies! What a life. And to add to the glory, it was such a gorgeous day, almost too hot; at this point I'm totally psyched. This is a wonderful place, with good people - this is how I always imagined California. Well, Northern California.
Obviously I'm happy I went back to check out "Big Sur" and all of its nooks. As it turns out, Pfeiffer Beach is the first item on Laurel's list of sights. And now I know why.
The walk back to the car was similarly fantastic, as the sun was just beginning to creep towards the sea:
Obviously I'm happy I went back to check out "Big Sur" and all of its nooks. As it turns out, Pfeiffer Beach is the first item on Laurel's list of sights. And now I know why.
The walk back to the car was similarly fantastic, as the sun was just beginning to creep towards the sea:
California is finally starting to live up to the legend.
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