March 1-4: Even though the weather was less than stellar, our trip down Rte. 1 on the California Coast was memorable. The breakfast room at the motel in Seaside was tiny and packed so we left with just a cup of (mediocre ) coffee and headed back to the coast. Spotting a sign for Coastal Access – which seem to appear every five miles or so – we pulled into Point Lobos State Beach and drove up the bluff to Whalers Cove to make a pot of our own coffee. We watched as a group of scuba divers suited up and slid into the cove, swimming otter-like among the kelp beds. But there were many miles to cover before we reached Escondido so, reluctantly, we ate a little breakfast and left after only an hour to get back to the road.
The views all along the way were stunning, rocky cliffs right down to the water, waves crashing on the beaches. Although the sky was clouded and the intermittent mist limited the view, we could appreciate the lure of this stretch of coastal beauty, recommended by everyone we spoke to.
As an aside, in some ways we overestimated what we would spend on this trip and in some ways underestimated. Take fuel costs, for example. We know we are driving a vehicle that at its best gets 19-20 miles per gallon on the flat and at about 55 – 60 miles an hour, so we weren’t at all surprised when we found ourselves fueling up every other day or so. Especially when going up and down mountains or after days of 75 mph freeway driving. And there was the wide range of prices we were seeing for plain old unleaded gasoline in the state of California; only rarely did we see anything below $3.00 a gallon, pretty much in line with what we thought we might find there. But, when we decided it was wise to top off the tank on a long stretch of coastal highway between Big Sur and Morro Bay, imagine our shock at the $6.99 per gallon posted at the pump. $6.99! Ron decided to put in a couple of “insurance” gallons and get back to civilization asap.
We reached Morro Bay in the rain and checked into the park campgrounds before heading out to explore the area. The Maritime Museum was on the way to town and we made a quick turn into the parking lot for a quick look. Wound up spending well over an hour looking at the exhibits and perusing the works of local artists.
The restaurant we chose for dinner (the Galley, because it had scallops on the menu and Ron loves scallops!) wouldn’t open for another hour so we parked near Morro Rock itself, along with dozens of other vehicles. Now the last time we were at the rock, about 15 years ago, it was sunny and warm and the resident peregrines were fledged and learning to fly. This time it was rainy any chilly and there wasn’t a flying bird in sight. But there were many swimming birds – common loons, red breasted mergansers, western and eared grebes, buffleheads, cormorants – all the usual suspects. And we were mesmerized by the sea otters, mostly what looked like parent-child pairs, as they floated on their backs, sometimes with abalone shells almost as large as they were. We watched a young otter snatch a piece of food from its parent and swim away to eat, another using its rock to practice cracking an empty shell. There were a couple of single gray-headed otters as well, what we assumed to be patriarchs or matriarchs of the family, rolling over and over and occasionally sticking their heads straight out of the water and looking around.
Continuing down the coast, we looked for our last camp night before meeting Jan and Charlie at the Welk resort for a different kind of experience. Ron found Dohenny SB in our book more easily than we found it in reality. While the day use area was pretty clearly marked, the campground was not. To complicate things, we got there just as the annual gray whale festival was winding down, disgorging hundreds of participants onto the local streets. After driving back and forth a few times, and just as we were leaving out of frustration, we stumbled onto the campground entrance. As Ron was venting to the camp host, a fellow camper volunteered to help us with the complicated check-in process and drove back with us to the entrance. It turned out to be a lovely campground and we spent a fairly quiet night listening to the rain and surf before heading south once again in the morning, stopping briefly for a breakfast sandwich and some donuts.
We got to the condo just before noon and packed some stuff for a week in one place.
The Ultimate Road Trip 