The Coast, Monterey and San Francisco (Day 13)

I left Paso Robles in the early morning after having breakfast at the beautiful, historic old coffee shop there (right). Based on the clear, warm morning air, I thought that I would be in for beautiful sunny skies as I took my planned drive up the coast to Monterey and San Francisco. I headed west, but when I got to within about 6 miles of the ocean there was a dramatic shift in the weather. The clear skies were gone, replaced by a dense, thick fog. Again, I found myself gripping the wheel white-knuckled as I drove over the mountains in very low visibility; thankfully, however, the fog became dramatically less dense as I began the three-hour drive up the coast. It wasn't completely easy traveling, though - there were moments here and there, especially when the road was most precariously high and twisty, it seemed - when the heavy fog would once again creep down and my heart would begin to race anew.

This drive up Highway 1 is fairly well known - I'm sure most of you have seen it in movies - the steep cliff drop offs down to the Pacific, the waves crashing against the rocks, the sharply winding roads. I had imagined driving it on a sunny day; but to be honest I found myself grateful for the mist and fog. It totally changed the experience for me, and lent the whole drive a sort of eerie quality. It is difficult to describe; it was kind of like being in an old scary Hitchcock movie. I took 85 pictures of the coast, but rather than post them all here I chose one or two that I thought best depicted the overall sense of this part of my journey.

My drive to Monterey continued through the coastal mountains. I drove through Big Sur, and passed many hand painted signs thanking the firefighters for keeping the wildfires at bay. The mountain drive was nearly as beautiful as the coast, but I found myself anxious to get to Monterey and the 17-mile drive about which I had heard so much. When I entered the town of Carmel, which is where the drive begins, I immediately thought of my mom and her own trip to California some years ago. I remembered how beautiful she said the town was, and she was right - I'd love to go back and spend more time looking e there someday. Instead of stopping, however, I drove through and entered the 17-mile drive through Carmel Gate.

The views along the 17-mile drive are spectacular. I got out of my car at almost every vista point to take pictures, and thankfully I had brought a sweatshirt with me because the air was damp and the temperature was somewhere in the low 50s. I learned that this is typical July weather for the California coast - I had no idea! There are so many beautiful things along the drive - old, scary Cypress trees, massive mansions, beautiful forests. But the most stunning thing of all is the shoreline. It almost defies description; niether words nor photos do it justice. After taking a million pictures, I remembered (duh) about the video feature on my camera. I took a few videos, and I'm going to post one here - don't know how this will work but at least with the video (sorry for my shaky hand) you can hear and see the waves crashing. If while you watch it you imagine everything being a hundred times bigger and louder, if you envision yourself shivering and damp with cool mist blowing on your face and in your hair; if you do this, then you will begin to experience what I did.

After spending two incredible hours drinking in the coast in Monterey, I continued on my drive to San Francisco. Amazingly, as I got closer to the city, the weather suddenly and somewhat miraculously cleared up. The skies once again were sunny blue, the temperature a much warmer 65. Arriving in San Fran was just plain exciting. I've always wanted to visit this city - I saw the Golden Gate bridge in the distance and the greenish-blue waters of the bay. Amazing, amazing. After settling in at my lovely hotel downtown, I took a short walk around the city and stopped it at St. Patrick's Church for mass (it was beautiful inside, but again, I feel funny about taking pictures in a church). After mass I went to a bar called Rogue to meet up with Gerard Buckley's very nice, very funny younger brother Mike, who moved out here a few years ago. We had a really good time, ate some seriously unhealthy bar food and drank some very good beer called, I think, Dead Man's Ale, which is brewed at Rogue. Mike also took me to see Lombard Street - which I think of simply as the big windy hill. It was very cool - I got a bunch of pictures of it, and since I hadn't had a chance to work out I walked up the hill (and a few more for good measure) on the way back to the hotel.

I have to say, just when I think my trip can't get any better, I have another day like this one. It is mind boggling to think that I've been gone two weeks already - the time is literally flying by. I feel as though even if I don't see anything else for the next two weeks, I have already seen enough that is amazing and incredible to last me a lifetime. I know, however, that there's plenty more to come; and the rest of San Francisco is next. Can't wait!