This is it. The last flashback to summer; it's well worth it.
Just when you think "all good things come to an end" it gets better. Throughout May & June I googled: Best Camping in California; Best Roadtrips Ever. Although vague, my research led me and 3 of my best friends to Pine Ridge Trail in Big Sur. Unexpected memories are my favorite. 3 of my girlfriends flew out to California on a whim, suitcases packed tight with tent, headlamp and iodine tablets.
Laguna Beach to Santa Barbara:
The last breakfast at Joe's cafe
Santa Barbara to San Luis Obispo:
Sports Authority for a backpack which I initially thought to be unnecessary
San Luis Obispo to the Central Coast:
Elephant Seals: enough said.
Central Coast to Big Sur:
Redwood, hot springs, 20 miles and missing teeth
5 am, key in ignition, driving up the coast developed into a panoramic print. I took full advantage of the menu, restrooms, water, people during pit stops in Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo and the gas station in Cambria. Although unnecessary and dramatic, I took every bite as if my last and defined the restroom in the 7-Eleven to be a privilege. 6 hours seemed like 3 days once we hit Highway 1: Big Sur. The first 10 minutes, cliffs and curves provided us with an energy boost. The last 90 minutes had a car full of anxious, car sick amateurs. Highway 1 never ended and then we pulled up to the trail head. Hut, hut, hike! Finally, goodbye cell phones; hello seclusion.
Everything was exactly how I imagined. Trees with personality and imprinted terrain where waterfalls once ran kept my mind off the uphill stretch. We hiked 5 miles to our first campsite.
"You girls need a campfire?"
"Thank you but I think we're good until the sun goes down!"
"If you're good, you're good but mines up for sharing...names Brian."
Of course, the sun always fades. We headed over to our neighbors campfire.
Brian enjoyed talking about himself. He has tools, whatchamacallits hidden in several spots around the trail. We sat with our feet above the ground to avoid mice while he talked about Bob. Bob fell off a cliff; he survived the first 30 ft. but didn't make the last 60.
"In order to find him, heck, there's only two ways: Bob's way or Search and Rescue."
Brian had to pack up Bob's belongings and break the news to his sister. They knew each other only a few days, few bowls but Brian thought it appropriate to take Bob's pipe as a keepsake.
Brian was missing one of his front teeth. Nevertheless, we took full advantage of his Pine Ridge knowledge to find out how far the hot springs were from our campsite and where the closest campsite was so we wouldn't have to hike more than necessary on our way back to the car.
"The hot springs are worth the 5 mile hike and there is a campsite I found about a mile from here towards the trail head. When you see a pink ribbon tied around a tree, you've made it."
There we were, side by side on the edge of a cliff; I could see the sky above me becoming less familiar.
"Brian is the only one who knows where we are."
The pink ribbon, the uncharted campsite, Brian and his missing tooth and the headliner:
The Ventana Wilderness Chainsaw Massacre. I thought every breath was my last.
I'll be the first to go! It sure didn't help that we decided to go to bed at 8:00. 10 hours later, 15 minutes of sleep and we threw our backpacks over our shoulders; we were out of there.
Although I heard chainsaws in the distance and footsteps near my head, our Big Sur adventure has me wanting to explore what we so often take for granted: nature, our environment.
