On the road early that morning, we were yet again astounded by some fantastic scenery complemented by the sea mist bursting with sunshine. This is just the start of an amazing day of driving along the road originally called “The Pacific Coastal Highway” or Cabrillo Highway. It was, by far the most dramatic scenery and along a small highway that dipped, soared and curved around the cliffs that drop straight into the crashing waves of the Pacific.
We saw small beaches, surfers, waves crashing against rocks and every moment of the 75 miles was filled with enjoyment that made us gasp oohs and ahhs of a firework display. Most drivers on this road are probably tourists and a sign giving distances in kilometres suggests that most are not American. The concentration of RVs would have to agree! I could compare this road to that of Amalfi and it took us at least two hours including stops.
The road borders on the Los Padres National Forrest and we drove through Pfeiffer and Big Sur National Parks. Other areas are complemented by names such as Nitt Witt Ridge and Soda Springs trail, which makes you think “only in America!” I would recommend this road is best driven south so you can pull in on the coast side of the many parking places. If there was no time constraint I would have loved us to have taken the whole day! Instead we had a date with Big Sur.
As the Cabrillo Highway meanders inland, the views of the mountainous coastal road are switched to large coniferous trees; the light dwindled as we became submerged going deeper into the gorge. Speaking to different people, we were given different accounts of where to find these ridiculously oversized redwoods that are for many are the attraction of Big Sur.
Of course none of these accounts were similar so we stopped at a log cabin home to an information centre. To my dismay, there are no big trees that you can drive through. There are big trees, just not the ridiculously big ones. We were advised to drive a few hundred meters further where we can park and wander along a trail. We are told it wasn’t necessary to wander far to see some big trees and the trail is 5miles long.
We walked under the canopy along the bank of a gently flowing stream. I enjoy what I call “a stop and listen” where we stop and listen to all the different sounds of nature as they converge into one another. It is seemingly interrupted by other treasure hunters who look slightly bewildered.
The famous words “the great outdoors” slip into my mind as I consider what a fantastic place this is. I try to remember images of Yogi Bear and what the archetypal forest should be. Whatever it is, I doubt it is dissimilar to this. The air smells fresh, cool and innocent. We are of course underneath oxygen factories. Within a few moments, we pass some humungous trees yet I have an appetite to see bigger ones. We pass other trekkers and enquire about the location of the said entities. A young lady said she saw some big trees up the path to the summit that took about an hour.
As we voyage further, I start to query my naivety. I have plenty of experience walking in the hills and through some woods. However, that is in Europe and considering the immensity of everything here, have no idea what we should have prepared for. I was prepared with my camera bag containing the equipment required to do some 360vrs. Thank you Michelle for carrying the tripod! We each had a small bottle of water and that was it! The air was hot; and what about if we were approached by some hungry bears or if we got lost and unexpectedly stayed out later, like three weeks? Eek! Never mind, we would face that obstacle if it ever happened.
The narrow path clinged to the side of the hill almost like a balcony held on to apartments. The sides are ludicrously steep and not a safe shortcut. Some hot and sweaty looking hikers inform us that there is a steep and a flatter path. Eager to burn calories from every oversized meal, steep sounded good! Looking up is a reminder that these trees are not just big around the waist. They go on and on until it is impossible to even gauge their height. I am still hopeful to see some humungous trees but as luck would have it, the biggest are within two minutes walk of the car.
Our visibility is cut short by the density of the forest and we can only guess while sweating and panting how much further the top really is. We finally make it to the top to what is a clearing. Perhaps the trees find it difficult to grow at this elevation. It allows the first opportunity to see more than a few meters and we are joined by a large mobile phone transmitter playing down our efforts as explorers. It is of course conjoined by a track with a passing car. We have the most fantastic view of the coast, the neighbouring hills and the canopy roof in the gorge below. We congratulate ourselves with a sweaty pat on the back and drain the remainders of our water bottles. We discussed and sniggered how the young girl suggested the walk would take us an hour. We didn’t time it, but was 30mins maximum.
On a slow de-elevation, we stopped and I captured a series of images to make some 360vrs. After our descent and draining a fresh bottle of water each, we drove a few miles with eyes peeled for a decent picnic spot. It took a while and made me realise there is no such place as Big Sur. A village is a collection of habitations, but Big Sur is a road with the occasional collection of log cabin style motels; no doubt charging $300 a night for basic amenities. Better make a note, does having the view of a big tree offer a star?
We stopped next to a log cabin gas station and sprawled on a patch of the greenest and most captivating looking grass. The air was quiet and smelt as fresh as it had before. The words “the great outdoors” unapologetically filled my mind as I reminded myself why they are so fantastic. I exposed my chest that had abstained light for 6months to the warmth of the bright and beaming sunshine. Our picnic included strawberries, mango juice and more of the jalapeno bread.
As we sat on the grass, I visualised the variety of geology we had experienced that morning. Gentle grass covered hills of San Simeon, the sea mist filling the valley, long sandy beaches, cliffs with sheer drops into the sea and a sharp gorge covered in dense woodland. This was still lunchtime, there was more to come. We resentfully continued our drive to the end destination of Monterey. I was realising just how much there was and how I was just unable to take it all in. It would have been so nice to stay here for at least a day rather than a matter of hours. An underlying thought to the whole trip.
