Vacations Blog

Big Sur Highway 1

Part I of On the Road in Big Sur can be read here.

We greeted Saturday morning at the crack of 9:30, washed up and made the short walk up to the Lucia Lodge restaurant, closed to all at this hour except lodge guests. We toasted some bagels, grabbed coffee and fruit salad and a couple of hard boiled eggs and went out on the deck that overlooks the lodge grounds and the ocean. Mornings are always chilly in Big Sur, but with sweatshirts we were quite comfortable in shorts. The sun was already breaking through as we perused one of the free Big Sur Guide newspapers and contemplated how to spend the day.

Big Sur offers everything from hiking the 167,323 acres of the Ventana Wilderness to camping, hunting and fishing or just relaxing on one of many beaches. We decided on Pfeiffer Beach for its “breathtaking stretch of sand” and “large arch-shaped rock formations” and picked up a couple of sandwiches at the Big Sur Center Deli some 20 miles north on Hwy 1 (did I mention the Lucia Lodge is pretty isolated?) next to the Big Sur Post Office and planned to picnic. We got one pastrami, and one fresh roasted turkey sandwich. Both came with a pickle spear and were reasonably priced ($4-$6) given their girth. We could have easily split one sandwich and been more than satisfied.

The guide paper informed us that locating Pfeiffer Beach can be tricky if you’ve never been. You have to find unmarked Sycamore Canyon Road. Here’s the tip: it’s the only paved, un-gated road west of Hwy 1 between the Big Sur Post Office and Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. Be warned that this is a very narrow, winding road, rather bumpy and pot-holed in some stretches. Do not attempt to negotiate this road with a trailer unless you want to risk getting yourself stuck and angering a lot of other drivers.

Pfeiffer Beach is as promised; long stretches of beach, breathtaking arch shaped rock formations and towering cliffs. What the paper didn’t happen to mention was that it can also be like visiting a sandy wind tunnel. The wind coming off the ocean whips around those arch shaped rock formations and right down that sandy stretch of beach. We found shelter on a large rock about 200 yards down the beach and endured the discomfort of our craggy seat long enough to eat lunch. Many people were braving the cold and enjoying the ocean but we decided against it, content to walk in the surf watch the kite fliers and spot seals. There was also a refreshing lack of seagulls though I can offer no reasons why. Anxious to continue our exploration we let the wind carry us back to our car.

“Exile on Main Street” pounding from the speakers, bright sun and blue skies flecked with white clouds and a brand new Mustang convertible, top down, roaring up Hwy 1. It doesn’t get much better. Hwy 1, and Big Sur in particular, offers some fantastic photo ops and the amateur shutterbug I call my wife was anxious to try and capture some of its beauty. We spent a good few hours driving up and down Hwy 1, stopping every few hundred yards so she could snap more photos. Though I’m not personally that interested in photography I was more than happy to oblige and give the Mustang a chance to sprint. Numerous turnouts allow for plenty of scenic views and some fantastic shots, however you may wish to confirm weather reports prior to planning a drive because the fog will often obstruct the coastal beauty. Fortunately the sun was on our side and my wife happily snapped off dozens of shots, some even with me in them.

Andrew Molera State Park has what the guide paper described as “a sandy beach…sheltered from the wind by a large bluff…”.  We were still in a beach mood and shelter from the wind sounded great so we pulled off to check it out. At the ranger kiosk the young man informed me of the $8.00 entry fee. I had expected this but having just paid $5.00 for a 45 minute visit at Pfeiffer Beach I wasn’t very willing to part with more of my dwindling cash supply. I pointed out the ticket we received at Pfeiffer still taped to our windshield, hoping the fact that we’d already paid one beach entry fee might gain us access to another. Apparently Pfeiffer is federally owned by the U.S. Forest Service while Andrew Molera is a state owned park. As such, each is entitled to charge an entry fee. Annoyed by this display of governmental gouging, we decided to begin the long trek back to Lucia and make dinner plans.

Nepenthe Patio

That morning a fellow continental breakfast-er had told us about a restaurant called Nepenthe, which is about (yes), twenty miles north on Hwy 1. We were informed that while the food was just “OK”, a better spot to sight whales and watch the sunset could not be found. We simply “must go”.  In fact, all of her friends in LA had told her that she simply “must go”. To ignore such resolute counsel would have been misguided, boarding on reckless, so go we did.

In the future I must remember to lead a more reckless, misguided life. OK I’m kidding. Our fellow lodger was correct in that the food was OK. I had the Ambrosiaburger (my eyes were instinctively drawn to it having been denied one the night before at Whale Watcher Café and the fact that at $13.00 it was the cheapest thing on the menu) complete with their famous “Ambrosia Sauce”, (mayo, green chili salsa and tomato sauce). My wife, already having decided to lead a more reckless life, opted for grilled scallops wrapped in prosciutto ($32.00) followed by the Four Layer Chocolate Fudge Cake ($7.50). While everything was delicious, as you’ve probably already gathered, what you’re really paying for is the view and by the time the bill arrived we were treated to a bright red sun melting into a thick blanket of clouds which slowly turned a dazzling hot pink, all the while spreading like whipped marshmallow across the darkening Pacific. Don’t forget your camera.

Back at Lucia Lodge we occupied one of the benches at the edge of the cliff near our cabin. Darkness had fallen and we were forced to rely on our other senses, enjoying the  cool winds coming off of the ocean and the sound of waves crashing at the base of the cliff below us. Later that evening, back in our cabin we enjoyed some wine and those good books and slept well. Sunday arrived far too quickly but the 11:00 AM check out time allowed us to linger over our coffee on the lodge deck. We watched the fog roll silently over the grounds, obscuring the foot path back to the cabin and our waiting Mustang, sitting patiently in anticipation of her final run up Hwy 1.

All Photos by Lisa Romano Except Nepenthe Courtesty of Nepenthe.

View of cabins from the Lodge restaurant.

We approached Big Sur under cover of fog illuminated by a full moon, the throaty rumble of our rented Mustang echoing in the stillness of a nearly deserted Highway 1.

I knew the ocean was to our right, but darkness and the concentration necessary to negotiate the corkscrew of scenic highway prevented me from seeing much more than an occasional lunar reflection on black water.

Our destination, Lucia Lodge, about twenty five miles south of the more populated areas of Big Sur, advertised its “unique cliff-side location” offering “unparalleled and commanding views” of the Big Sur coast and Santa Lucia mountains. Established in the 1930’s, the lodge is now operated by fifth generation descendants of the original owners, Wilbur and Ada Harlan. As we soon discovered, Lucia Lodge is basically all there is to Lucia with twenty-five miles of desolation north on Hwy 1, and about fifteen miles of the same to the south.  We were unaware of this geographical fact when, though famished, we decided to skip the Big Sur Roadhouse in favor of locating the lodge. Twenty-five miles after bypassing the last of civilization to the north, we arrived at 10 PM to a locked and darkened lodge and restaurant.

Cabins from the path.

In the lobby of the restaurant (discovered the next day after the complimentary breakfast of pastries, muffins, bagels, fruit salad, and bowls of hard-boiled eggs) hangs a framed 1984 San Francisco Examiner article which begins, and I quote:

“You’d swear you’ve seen the setting in some brooding film noir classic, maybe a 1940’s dark Howard Hawks thriller: a small coastal roadside gas station-restaurant-store with a few cabins off to the side overlooking a steep cliff.”

This description, sans the gas station which apparently was removed between 1984 and present day, could not be more accurate, and I experienced a very film noir feel as we doubled back about twenty yards to the steep, obscured little road that leads down to ten little cabins over-looking that steep cliff. These cabins make up all there is of Lucia Lodge’s accommodations.

Finding the key under the mat as promised we proceeded to drag our luggage into cabin #7, a cute little A-frame with a high, full-size bed at one end and gas fireplace at the other. In between were an armoire, a couch, a coffee table and a couple of wooden chairs; no phone, no TV, no radio. Oh and no cell phone reception; isolation at its finest. Make a note to bring good books and wine.

Our load considerably lightened we hopped back in the Mustang and roared south on Hwy 1 in search of sustenance, coming up on the Whale Watcher Café some fifteen miles down the road in the town of Gorda Springs. It appeared to be open and we made our way to the bar only to discover that the kitchen was closed. Thankfully the gentleman said the clam chowder was still available so we ordered two bowls and a couple of drinks.  My wife tried the Merlot but knowing I had a fifteen-mile slalom of a drive back, I opted for Sprite, which I find really brings out the flavor in clam chowder.

So the chowder was great, really hit the spot, very generous amount of clams and a good consistency (I hate watery chowder) but when I discovered that we were charged $10.50 per bowl it suddenly wasn’t sitting very well. Had the kitchen been open we could have ordered burgers at about $16.00 a pop (pricey yes but at least it feels like a meal). Personally, I would be embarrassed to charge $10.50 for a bowl of soup no matter how good it is or how famished my customers. But that’s just me. Needless to say we declined the gentleman’s offer to return for breakfast the following morning.

Next installment: A drive up and down and up and down scenic Hwy 1; windy beaches and more meals. Stay tuned!

All photos by Lisa Romano

There are few places in the U.S. more beautiful than Big Sur (a bold statement, I know, but one I am willing to defend). This 65 mile stretch along California’s Hwy 1 blends together some of the best of what the state has to offer; dramatic mountains, ocean views, and towering coastal redwoods. What’s more, it serves these up to you in a remote and deliciously isolated setting. The majority of people experience this pristine and magnificent locale through their car windows as they wind along the sharply curving road, sometimes 1000 feet over the ocean. There are ample “pull-out” spots in which to park your car and take a picture. However, it seems a shame to take it all in at this pace. While I do enjoy the drive through Big Sur, I prefer to get out of my car, slow-down, and spend an entire weekend here soaking up its ample natural wonders and soothing tranquility.

A surprising number of businesses thrive in this sparsely populated region, so, you can have your choice of accommodation. Sleep in a tent amid the redwoods next to the burbling Big Sur River, crawl into 600 thread count sheets at the Post Ranch Inn, or find something in between. However, if you are looking for something different, perhaps a bit adventurous, then I have a great recommendation for you. Stay in one of sixteen “luxury” yurts at Treebones Resort, perched on the side of a cliff overhanging the Pacific Ocean. This weekend was my second anniversary, and my husband and I decided to see what all the buzz was about. What we found was a unique and thoroughly delightful experience.

For those of you new to this concept…yurts are large, round, fabric-covered tents that are inspired by the nomadic tribes of Mongolia. The yurts at Treebones take this concept and step it up a notch, adding pine floors, skylights, gas heaters, and large comfy beds with colorful quilts. These structures blend in naturally with their rugged environment and pose less stress to the fragile landscape. They also afford incredible views! Each yurt has its own deck with large wooden chairs. Many of these have unblemished 180degree views of the ocean below. We spent most of Saturday, sitting on our private deck, listening to barking elephant seals and keeping our eyes peeled for breaching whales. At night we snuggled into the warm cozy bed and counted stars through our rooftop dome.

I don’t want to give the impression that Treebones is the “lap of luxury”. There are some aspects that don’t make it ideal for everyone. For example, even with the gas heater, the yurt can get a little nippy at night and the communal bathrooms are a two minute walk away (which is a very unappealing prospect at two in the morning!). However, the isolated location, stark beauty, and unique surroundings are more than enough to make up for these inconveniences. And did I mention the free waffle breakfast- served in the beautiful round lodge every morning! There is a store where you can buy gifts, sundries, and wine. They prepare simple and amply portioned dinners nightly, the menu determined by what was bought at the store that day. You can play board games or read in front of their large stone fireplace in the evenings or have a soak in their heated pool and hot tub.

I would recommend Treebones to anyone that wants to experience the intimate contact with nature that is usually only found with camping, but, also likes some creature comforts. It is an entirely singular experience in a spectacular and remote setting. As its owners say, it is truly a place “perched lightly on the edge of the world”.

Does staying in a yurt sound like your ideal weekend getaway or a vacation nightmare? Feel free to share your thoughts!

From guest blogger, Sarah Ellerman

Have a wish list of places you’d like to travel, but no idea how you’d ever make those dreams into reality? Look around you – really look – at the place where you live. Chances are, you’ve never thought about what a valuable vacation commodity your own home is.

Look at me: I rent a modest home in California, and while I’ve always adored it, I never dreamt that it would be the key to unlock affordable world travel for me. It started when a friend told me about her experience with a house swap vacation – known in various circles as home exchange, flat exchange, home swap, and so on. It’s all the same brilliant concept, though: like-minded travelers in different parts of the world hooking up to trade free vacation time in their house, apartment or RV. My little 2BR/1BA has made it possible for me to visit such places as Paris, Kauai and Hilton Head for little more than the cost of a plane ticket. Even better, I didn’t have to arrange for a housesitter for my houseplants and fish tank – my swap family looks after such details for me, just as I do for them. (This means that I have more responsibilities than at a hotel, but I consider that acceptable – even enjoyable.)

That’s because house swaps are undeniably economical. With lodging costs out of the equation, you’ll find that a trip to even the most exclusive locale is suddenly well within reach. Use of the family vehicle is often included in the deal, and with a kitchen on hand, you can cook local food. In no way is cost the only attraction, though. House swaps offer you the chance to live like locals, not tourists, so if you’re interested in an authentic experience, it’s the way to go.

Mutual respect is the most crucial aspect of any house swap. After all, you will be staying in each other’s homes! Many house swap vacationers report long-lasting ties with their swap family, leading to repeat vacations. If you are clean, responsible and thoughtful, you may find that within a few years, you’ll have special places to stay all over the globe.

The field of matching people up for house swaps is dominated by the free ads on Craigslist, but there are many other sites – some with a fee, some without. Home Exchange has glowing testimonials, and Only in America has listings and great advice. Homes in England is fab if you dream of visiting the UK, and for a look at exotic homes from Shanghai to Barcelona, check out Expatriates. There’s someone out there who would jump at the chance to stay in your so-called “ordinary” house – and perhaps you’d like to spend a week in their flat in London, or their rancher with a hot tub in Big Sur. Open your mind – and your front door – to the idea of house swap vacations, and anything is possible.