06 Aug 2017 - Graham
previously: dusky oregon campground sights
Last week I spent a couple days driving from Santa Cruz to Seattle, almost entirely on the 1 and then (when it ended) the 101. It was a mixed bag. The 1 is surely an American Experience. Some parts, however, are better than others. And to be fair I made some logistical errors that unnecessarily soured some of the drive. But before getting to all that let’s start from the beginning. Here’s day one:
1. Santa Cruz to San Francisco
Started this first day, Saturday, at the Westside farmers market. Santa Cruz is an adorable town in an absolutely beautiful place. Everyone seems happy and glowy but not overly tanned or made up. The market had delicious prepared food and super fresh looking produce. I could definitely see myself living here if I wanted beautiful beach without too much heat (hint, hint, parents). Plus, seals!!
The views were spectacular. Stunning cliffs and rocks and beaches. My first stop was just north of Santa Cruz at an unionized and organic farm, Swanton Berry Farm. (I posted about it on Instagram. (archivists note: that instagram account has been deleted)) I bought a pint of strawberries as car snack and drove on.
I know the 1 is a popular bike route, but I was surprised at the number of bicyclists. It did not seem like a bike friendly road. High speed cars, tight lanes and blind turns would have had me freaking out, but I guess the views are worth it, and there probably isn’t a better route up the coast. I found myself, oddly enough, glad to be in a car instead of on a bike.
The route through SF was some of the worst traffic I’ve ever sat in. I think it took 90 minutes to get to the Golden Gate bridge. Unlike the Santa Cruz parts of 1, I would have much rather been on a bike for this stretch. The views of the city from the 1 are nothing special, but all the other routes were equally trafficked anyways, and it was worth seeing the Golden Gate bridge perfectly fogged. Plus, I didn’t have to turn on my GPS, I could just stay on the same road.
2. Marin to Pt. Reyes:
After putting up with all that traffic, I decided I had earned a little break and stopped at a trendy outdoors/surf shop. I very proudly did not buy a $200 blanket for sleeping in the car because that would sorta have ruined the whole point of car sleeping (saving money). And then I stopped at a slightly overpriced but tasty mexican diner for a late lunch. After my pit stop, I found that the 1 was partially closed, but the detour took me on the scenic route up Mt. Tam. The switchbacks and foggy meadows and rich forest and sudden bays full of feasting birds were mesmerizing. After coming down from Mt. Tam, around 5:30p, I stopped briefly at Point Reyes National Park and should have ended my day there. Or at the very cute town of Pt. Reyes just after the park. But instead I forged on, hoping to make more progress towards my northern goal.
3. Sonoma and Mendocino
I’m sure the views here were also stunning, but after 6 hours of driving the road was starting to wear on me. A boy can only take so many stunning views in a single day before they start to repeat and blur together. And the mountain switchbacks, which slowed traffic to a crawl, started to become a hassle rather than a novelty.
On this stretch of road my mindset definitely changed from a zen-like enjoying the moment, stopping wherever I pleased, having no expectations, etc… to hurrying towards an arbitrary goal. And then, of course, that goal turned out to be a real disappointment.
I thought Mendocino would be a cute beach town full of other young people on vacation. So I skipped dinner in the other cute-ish beach towns along the way. Even with all that rushing, I ended up getting in to Mendocino city after all the restaurants had closed. And there were no young people in sight except some crusties (i.e. homeless drug abusers). Grumpy and hangry and tired, I searched for and eventually found a semi-non-sketchy place to park for the night. My dinner ended up being a single Probar as I fell asleep in the back of the Pilot worrying about hassle from cops and crusties. It was my first time sleeping in a car. I was probably overly worried, nothing happened, and nobody seemed to have noticed me. But I’m not sure I’m cut out for the vagabond life.
next post: driving up route 1, day 2