We were warned of the twists and turns of highway one on the way to Big Sur, but the beauty made up for the vertigo. Without reservations for a campsite, we were a bit concerned about finding a place to pitch our tent, especially as we began to pass National Forest Campgrounds (with views of the ocean, no less) with large "Full" signs hanging along the road. After stopping to buy a Sprite at a small stand, where an old bearded hippie played his banjo to tourists and sang me an "un-cola" jingle, we made our way to the last campground in town. We we lucky to find folks walking out to their campground with their heaps of gear, a good .5 miles away from the parking lot, still smiling and making the best of a long, tiring day. Appropriately, we met a band called Big Tree at the camp. Comprised of five Sarah Lawrence grads who were extremely sweet, laid back, and all seemingly getting along after a long tour across the country, the band has some great tunes. We spent the evening chatting with them, and then dreamt wild dreams of earthquakes, the land opening up -- perhaps a distant primordial memory of the geological creation of this breathtaking place.
The morning came, and extremely hungry and sleepy, we drove to Big Sur Bakery for some slow food and hot coffee, which we consumed while watching the mist dissipate over the golden hills, sitting underneath old growth redwoods. Enjoying their spirit garden for longer than seemed imaginable, we headed back to camp, packed up, and finally took a long hike out to the ocean, where I forded the Big Sur river to seek out Pacific jade on the ocean beach. Here the water flows both ways, sea water inland, fresh water out to sea, the current encircled us as we made our way north to Santa Cruz, sweet strawberries, and agrarian generosity.
Big Sur River
Misty Morning
Happy Anniversary!
Looking back
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