A Big Sur Adventure

On the 5th of June Sarah and I met in San Luis Obispo. Sarah had flown into LA the day before and she took a train up the coast. I drove down route 101 from SF and picked her up at the train station. We the proceeded to spend three nights camping on the coast. I'm an experienced camper. I have been camping for as long as I can remember. First I did it with my family, and later I taught Andy why it is so much fun. But, in all 25 of my years, I had never been camping without any men at all. This trip with Sarah was girl-empowering!

Because of our time schedule, we skipped out on enjoying the culture of SLO entirely. It's a college town that I hear is a lot of fun. But for some stupid reason (all my fault) we stayed at the state park in Morro Bay instead. This town seems to be a west-coast Florida. As we walked along the coastal road, we felt like the youngest people by at least 45 years. The biggest claim to fame (if you can call it that) for Morro Bay is their giant rock...



We did stumble upon the only hot spot in town for people under 40: 2 Dogs Coffee Co. There we got some warm beverages and the best scone I have ever had (because it tasted like a cookie, not a scone. Why do people like scones so much, anyway?) We also met a couple of guys our age loitering out side. We impressed them with our girl-power camping plan and they gave us some suggestions on where we should go on our way up the coast. We told them we wanted to find a good place to hike; they advised us to find Salmon Creek on our way north. We thanked them and went on our way.

I don't mean to be too harsh towards the little town of Morro Bay. It's just that Big Sur was so much better. SO much better that I wonder why any of the entries in our guidebooks said anything besides "keep driving north to Big Sur!"



I had driven down to meet Sarah, but I did not take any coastal roads to get to her. In fact, I couldn't even tell I was close to the water at all on my way down. There are so many farms in California that I felt like I was in the middle of the country. We drove up and up not truly realizing what we were coming upon. Then we came around a curve I literally had to catch my breath from the glory of the scenery. Highway 1 sits up on the edge of a huge cliff, and as far as the eyes can see off the edge of that cliff is the huge, blue expanse of the Pacific. It was as though our car shrunk down like the magic school bus and we became tiny ants, completely dwarfed by the landscape. It gave me that humbling feeling that I love: the realization that I am so insignificant in this universe. My failures, my problems, my triumphs, and my aspirations might be big to me, but they are nothing compared to what is out there. To me that feeling is liberating. Big Sur embodies that liberation.



It took us twice as long as it could have to drive up to our destination because we continuously pulled over to stop at the "vista points." We walked down to the beach during one of these stops and stumbled upon this pack of marine mammals sunning themselves.



We spent the next two nights at the campsite below, located in Kirk Creek Campground. This campground was the most visually impressive place I have ever pitched a tent in my life. Every site in the place sits up on a bluff looking down on the ocean. The huge rocks just off the coast make the sound of the crashing waves louder than I have ever heard the ocean be, even at the top of the cliff.



As indicated here by Apollo's ears, when we got there it was extremely windy. We staked in the tent as firmly as we possibly could (and I still worried about it some.) Then we got back in the car and went off on a hunt to get some food. No sooner did we pull out of the campground, I noticed the gas light come on. Oops. Since moving to California I have been filling my tank every other week, it didn't occur to me that I would have to fill it twice in two days. Duh, I know. The highway sign closest to our campground said the next town was 24 miles away. Crossing my fingers that the town would even have a gas station, I silently cheered at every mile that ticked off on the odometer; that would be one less round-trip mile we would have to hoof it to buy gas as the sun was going down. (Very) luckily for us, we made it to the town of Big Sur. Sarah proceeded to buy the most expensive tank of gas I have ever witnessed pumped at $4.65/gallon. I then purchased the most expensive bag of groceries. I cursed at myself for how under prepared I had made us for this adventure and promised not to do it again in the future. But this trip was filled with mosts (most expensive, most tasty, most impressive, most feminine) so perhaps the pricey groceries were only fitting.



Sarah and I both agreed that the proprietors there had every right to charge us so much for gas. They have to truck it so far from civilization, and we were stupid enough to need it so far out; we had it coming to us. And we both had a soft spot for the hippie store that sits up on the hill by the gas station, too. The store was closed the first time we drove through, but we took a picture there anyway.

In the parking lot of the grocery store we spotted another Aussie Shepherd like Apollo. Apollo had been spending a lot of time in the car so far that day, so I got excited and asked the human with the dog if we could play. He agreed, so Apollo hopped out and ran around in the yard a little bit. Ironically, the dogs were not that interested in playing with each other, but the guy was friendly. As it turned out he is a musician and he planned on playing his cello that night at the Henry Miller Memorial Library open mic. Sarah and I, insatiable for a good story, decided to venture out that night to an event with the townies.



And that's what it was. We were the only tourists there that night, based on the "Who are you?" looks we were getting from the crowd. The drive on the highway in the dark and the motion sickness that ensued left us feeling a little anti-social, so we did not strike up any more conversation with locals that night. But, we did enjoy a taste of Big Sur culture. The front man on stage in the jean jacket this picture was hilarious. With half a can of Budweiser in his hand he led his band through a bunch of his original songs. My favorite one going something like "I don't want to get a job. I don't want to go to the beach. I just want to stay here with you under the mooooooooon light." Believe me, between that and his spoken word, it was impossible to resist enjoying this man's antics on stage.



The next day we got up and drove in the other direction to get some eggs. I don't have a camp stove yet, and granola bars get old when they serve as the bulk of all 3 meals in a day. The waitress who served us named Salmon Creek when we asked her about good places to hike. That made three recommendations from locals. We looked in our guide books and did not find any mention of this trail, but we decided that locals know best and headed down there.



As we walked into the woods from the highway, we were immediately confronted with huge boulders strewn about near and on a creek bed (Salmon Creek, I assume.) It was an incredibly fun creek bed to stomp around on. It required just a little bit of scrambling and rock hopping. We found a trail that led up the hill a ways, so we followed it a while. It started to get thinner and thinner, and eventually went straight up hill. We kept going. Apollo was with us this whole time. He was a trooper. The incline was pretty steep and the terrain was loose and prone to erosion. I did not know what to expect from Apollo, but he turned out to be a real climber. A few times I would see his little eye dilate and look at me in fright, and that's when I knew he would need a little boost. I had to carry him up once or twice, but only for a few feet at a time so he could find a new place to hang onto with his four little paws. Our primate thumbs were certainly an advantage for this hike.





We reached a high point on our trail and could see this view through a clearing of trees. It was a payoff worth the peril of getting two people and a dog up the hill.

We hiked around on the underused trails for a while until we got back to the creek bed. We were filthy (me especially as indicated by my arms in that picture above) so we decided to take a quick swim before we headed out. Apollo had been eagerly swimming every chance he got from the moment he saw the creek, so why not us? We found a nice sunny water hole, stood there thinking about it for too long, and eventually took the plunge, literally. The water was so cold that it literally made it challenging to breathe. Apollo merrily swam circles around the pool while Sarah and I spent just enough time in there to get wet and get out. The water might have been 50 degrees, but the sun on the rock warmed us up quickly. We lounged around there until we were dry enough to head back to camp.



It took us a little exploring to find our trail again. This forced us to do some walking on the creek bed itself. Apollo, once again, proved his might. Our little, wet, scrawny dog leaped over rocks, downed trees and through creek water to hike with us. I wish this picture turned out a little less blurry, but it does give a little indication of what Apollo was up against...



We found our trail again, and soon realized we were not where we thought we were. Our little watering hole at the bottom of the hill was really on a small plateau at the top of a waterfall. This picture below is the view we had of the waterfall from the bottom, once we finally did get down.



The image makes the waterfall look smaller than it is. I didn't have a yard stick with me or anything, but I'm guessing this was about 50 feet tall. We only saw two people on the trail the entire time we were in there, and those people were at the very bottom of this waterfall when we were on the top of it. It's always a good feeling to find something nice and get the impression you have it all to yourself. In total, we spent about 5 hours hiking around Salmon Creek, and I do not think we hiked on any of the official trails in there. Like Kirk Creek, and Big Sur in general, I am eager to return to this place.

On our ride home Apollo displayed his exhaustion from the big day. We had been in the car for a little while when I turned back to check on him. He had covered himself up with my clothes.



So after returning to the campground, we lounged around some more before starting up our fire. The marshmallows and our wine had become quite warm in the car while waiting for us to consume them, so we cooled them each off a little (a little! we know red wine should be room temp!) I like this image of our camping feast on ice.




After our rest, we decided to explore the campground a little. We found this area with a couple of benches perched on the edge of the bluff with a chain-linked fence meant to keep us in. Luckily for us, this day was not nearly as windy as our first day there, and we decided to venture down to the beach.



Back at the campsite as we were getting ready to build our fire, we could hear all kinds of chirping. I thought there was an angry bird nearby. I looked around and found the loudmouth inside a nearby bush...



This little squirrel is one of hundreds that live at the campground. They burrow in holes in the ground and scamper about everywhere. I can only assume to warn comrades, these squirrels open their tiny mouthes wider than imaginable and can let out quite a screech. I was grateful that Apollo was worn out enough to sleep under the picnic table and leave the little buggers alone.



Pretty soon the squirrels calmed down as the sun was setting. It seems we were there at a perfect time to catch this sunset. A week later the sun might have been behind those hills as it set.

I have been frantically scrolling through my pictures to see if we took any of our fires. Apparently not. It's too bad too, because we felt pretty proud of them. There was no excess testosterone in the air causing any men to fluff their feathers and compete for the coveted fire-master title. We shared it peacefully and enjoyed the fruits of our labor for many hours, especially on our last night. There is really nothing as naturally entertaining a fire.

After the sun goes down in a place with no day glow in the distance, it is pretty hard to stay awake for very long. We were in bed by 11 or earlier each night. We had been diligent about putting all of our food away in the car except our small bag of garbage that final night. The bag hung from the picnic table just outside our tent. Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up to hear someone rummaging through that bag. I looked in that general direction and could see the silhouette of a small creature just outside the tent wall. Apollo knew something was up, too. Knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it at that point, I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep. Unfortunately the urge to for bladder relief was too strong to get back to sleep. I waited until I couldn't hear the commotion anymore. Then I peaked my head out the tent door, restraining Apollo with both of my arms. Somehow Sarah continued to doze through all of this. I shined my head lamp all over the campsite and eventually spotted the culprit, a raccoon, on top of my car. Its eyes lit up as I grazed my light over it for an instant, and then it was gone. I waited a little more until I felt it was safe (otherwise stated, until I couldn't hold it any longer.) I tiptoed out of the tent, got about 3 feet away, did my thing, and then dove back inside and zipped up. I tried to stir Sarah to give her a warning in case she did wake up with a need to go out, but it was no use. Apollo and I went back to bed.



In the morning, when we went back to the car we could see prints all over the roof and hood. I told Sarah what had happened. Then we opened the passenger door, whose window was about 1/4 rolled down, to see another set of muddy paw prints inside the car. The raccoon hadn't escaped into the dark oblivion while I was peeing. It escaped into my car! It had rummaged through Sarah's bag and the passenger seat of the car, but we do not think it found much in there. All our money and valuables remained! It was a burglary with a furry bandit.

On our ride home we stopped in Gilroy (as I talked about in my garlic fries post) at the Garlic Shoppe. We purchased some organic garlic and some blue cheese garlic butter. So good.



And, as if Apollo wasn't dirty enough, we stopped at the dog-friendly beach in Carmel.



We made it back from our trip unscathed and feeling exhilarated. Maybe it was the Virgin Mary statuette that Sarah purchased at Venice Beach earlier in the week that got us back to Oakland safely.