In Morro Bay sind wir gestern in einem kleinen, sauberen Hotel schlaftechnisch vor Anker gegangen. Nur den Konstrukteur der Klimaanlage müsste man zur Strafe sein Lebenn lang in einem der so temperierten Zimmer wohnen lassen. Zum einen wurde hier die Energie  Megajouleweise zur Außenwand hinausgeblasen und zum anderen knackt das Metall bei zwangsläufigen Temperaturveränderungen derart laut,  dass man permanent erschrickt. Hallo? Wer nimmt denn so derart dünnes Blech

Heute  hat uns die California State Route 1, auch Highway 1 genannt, an der Küste entlang nach Monterey gebracht. Traumhafte Kulisse. Links das blaue Meer, rechts mal sanfte Hügel, mal steile Abhänge. Seltener Wald.  Nur leider ganz, ganz schlecht auf Zelluloid einem Chip zu bannen. Vor allem, weil die kurvenreichsten und somit fotogensten Stücke kein gefahrloses Halten zuließen und der beste Viewpointfinder von allen das Leben des Mietwagens der Frau Tonari nicht aufs Spiel setzen wollte. Muss also ein Blick vom Beifahrersitz reichen.

Sorge bestand auch, hinter einer der mitunter recht engen Kurven einen der todesmutigen Radfahrer ungewollt aufzugabeln. Die Straße ist in dieser Gegend nur zweisppurig, also eine Fahrbahn je Richtung. Fahrradspur = Fehlanzeige. Zudem bestand bei der Beifahrerin die diffuse Angst, einen der augesetzten Hangbullen urplötzlich auf der Kühlerhaube wieder zu sehen.  Wer sagt denn, dass nicht auch ein künftiges Steak mal sein Gleichgewicht verliert

Highway 1 gen Norden

Damit sich die strapazierten Gleichgewichtsorgane im Innenohr wieder beruhigen können, hat die Natur ab und an besondere Attraktionen bereit gehalten. Beispielsweise am Point Piedras Blanca eine ziemlich große Seeelefantenkolonie, bestehend aus mehr als 15.000 Exemplaren. Nun, so viele zeigten sich heute nicht. Aber etliche lagen schon faul am Strand herum, bewarfen sich mit Sand oder balzten, was die Seeelefantenlunge hergab.  Und während zwei sich lautstark um die Auserwählte stritten, vergnügte sich ein Dritter.

In Monterey befindet sich eines der größten Schauaquarien der Welt. Nach all der Trockenheit in den vergangenen Wochen ein verlockender Anziehungspunkt

Das Museum selbst liegt direkt am Meer, in der legendären Cannery Row. Und auch in ebendieser Straße findet sich eine kleine Büste von John Steinbeck, dessen Roman “Die Straße der Ölsardinen” hier spielt. Ich habe das Buch noch nicht gelesen, nun aber auf dem Schirm.

John Steinbeck in Monterey

Für den stolzen Eintrittspreis von 29,95$ befanden wir uns kurze Zeit später aber mitten in einer bunten Fischpracht. Wir konnten Ottern beim Schwimmen unter Wasser zuschauen, eine lustige Perspektive übrigens. In einem riesigen Becken, dass sich über mehrere Etagen erstreckte, schwammen Hammerhaie und Thunfische einträchtig neben silbrig glänzenden Fischschwärmen. In anderen Aquarien waren Leopardenhaie und barschartige Fische zu bestaunen. Sehr abwechslungsreich mit interessanter Unterwasserflora.

Abenteuerliche Wesen trieben durch die Becken

Großer Fetzenfisch

oder ihre nahezu schwerelosen Spielchen miteinander. Ich hätte den Quallen noch stundenlang zuschauen können. Der beste Tierfilmer von allen hat heimlich ein bisschen mit der Knipse gefilmt und grinste schelmisch, als ich später etwas von “Das wäre ein toller Bildschirmschoner.” flüsterte.

Quallen

Eine besonders beeindruckender Teil der Ausstellung war den Seepferdchen gewidmet.  Sie sind ja Meister der Tarnung in ihrer Umwelt. Aber dennoch haben wir sie klar und in eindeutiger Situation gesehen.  Auch wenn dieses Foto ein übles Fake ist, weil von der Leinwand einer multimedialen Seepferdchenanimation  abfotografiert. Übrigens sind es die männlichen Seepferdchen, die schwanger werden und den Nachwuchs zur Welt bringen.

Seepferdchentanz

Das Museum ist anscheinend sehr darauf bedacht, vor allem den jüngeren Besuchern kindgerecht die Schönheiten des Meeres zu zeigen. Die einzelnen Becken sind tief genug angebracht, damit sie auch  genug sehen können. Manche Grotten waren auch mal nur für die  Kinder angelegt. Beispielsweise gibt es  auch die Möglichkeit, einige Tiere oder Pflanzen unter Aufsicht vorsichtig einmal anfassen zu dürfen. Das wurde gerne angenommen.

Allerdings waren wir sehr froh, das Monterey Bay Aquarium außerhalb der Saison besucht zu haben. Einerseits, weil die Parkplatzsuche unkompliziert war und wir auch nicht anstehen mussten, um hinein zu gelangen und andererseits, weil schon jetzt vor manchen Becken ein ziemliches Gedränge und ein gehobener Geräuschpegel herrschte. Anfangs begann in unserer Nähe eine Führung. Wir haben vor deren Lautstärke echt die Flucht in einen anderen Teil der Ausstellung ergriffen.

]]> http://exploringterra.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/11-20-09-aaron%e2%80%99s-grandmother%e2%80%99s-house-to-huntington-beach-48-miles/ Tue, 24 Nov 2009 04:20:45 +0000 Maria Benner http://exploringterra.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/11-20-09-aaron%e2%80%99s-grandmother%e2%80%99s-house-to-huntington-beach-48-miles/

We had a great experience in LA, mainly because Aaron and his fiancé Melody showed us a good time, and Aaron’s grandmother was kind enough to offer her house to us for lodging.  Highlights include finally going to a Krispy Kreme for the first time, eating the cookie ice cream sandwich at Diddy Riese, and of course seeing Aaron’s movie, Little Blue Pill.  Scott couldn’t resist taking advantage of Grandma’s kitchen, so he baked a pizza, bread, sticky buns, and chocolate chip cookies.  We relaxed for a whole day and hit the road again today.  Aaron gave us a great sendoff by making French toast for us for breakfast and then riding his bike with us for the first 15 miles, or so.  We are really looking forward to Aaron and Melody’s wedding on July 4^th.  On our bike ride Aaron asked Scott to be a groom’s man. 

            The ride started off very pleasantly on a bike trail along the beach, but then we had to ride through a ghetto section of Long Beach on busy Pacific Coast Highway.  Poor Scott was really stressed for the entire 25 miles.  We’re excited about being so close to the border.  The guide book told us to stay at the Colony Hostel, but when we got there, we found out that it had closed and the building is for sale.  So we got a room at the Best Western for $108, which isn’t bad for a hotel on the beach on Friday night.  We’re about to go check out the hot tub, which totally justifies the room cost in my mind.  We went to the CVS and I bought Spaghetti O’s for dinner, and when I tasted them for the first time in over ten years, I realized that I don’t like them anymore.  Just another part of growing up, I guess.  Two more days until we reach the border.

Malibu

In the morning as I walked to the water faucet I heard a rustling in the bushes, and when I looked to see what that was, I saw a lynx, and it stared back at me.  So we just stared at each other, and then I decided maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

We had a really great ride through Malibu and got to Sunset Blvd really fast.  The ride up Sunset Blvd was a bit challenging because it’s a big hill, but we made great time getting to Aaron’s grandma’s house.  There are some really amazing houses in this area.   We chose the right day to arrive here because Aaron had a screening of his movie, Little Blue Pill tonight.  We were excited to see it finally.  Then we got drinks at a pub with a great draft beer selection, and came home around 1 am.

Sunrise

The guys didn’t want to pay for the campsite because some of them didn’t have any money and others didn’t want to pay more than their share, so we all got up at the crack of dawn, packed up as quickly as possible and escaped from the campground.  Scott and I felt bad about that, but we succumbed to the pack mentality and didn’t want to be stuck with the whole fee.  We saw the sun rise as we rode, which was amazing.  We rode on and on and on without breakfast, coffee, or a bathroom break until we got to Santa Barbara about 25 miles later.  Ben and Luis stopped there for breakfast, but Terry, Derek, Scott and I went to the beach to make coffee and eat some of our own food.  An obnoxious character who was riding his loaded bike stopped when he saw us and began to preach about achieving enlightenment through playing tennis left and right-handed.  He said he possessed all the knowledge a human needs and we were fortunate to meet him because he has all the answers.  We unanimously decided he was an idiot and told him to move along.

Scott and I decided we want our tandem mojo back, because we got tired of the pack craziness, so we told Derek and Terry that we were breaking away from the pack.  We parted warmly, exchanged contact information, and all of a sudden Scott and I were on our own again, which felt really good because we were free to go as far and as fast as we wanted and to say anything we wanted.  We just kept on riding and riding, just didn’t want to stop and we were flying along because the terrain was relatively flat, so we rode into the night again.  That’s two days in a row that we rode over 70 miles/day.  We were pretty tired when we arrived at the campground.  We celebrated our independence from the pack with a bottle of wine and went to bed and slept really well.

Riding pack of boys

We rolled out of the campground in a big pack of bikers.  Along the way another biker named Derek caught up to us.  Ben and Luis met him a few days earlier and told us about him, so they were really happy to see each other.  Derek is riding to Mexico to swim with birthing whales.  He’s a very interesting individual and very laid back.  I feel like he’s full of interesting knowledge and I could have spent a lot more time talking to him.  He also has an Extracycle like Terry and has a ukulele strapped to it.  Derek is older, probably in his late 50’s and has brilliantly blue eyes.  He told us about Himalayan sea salt.  At one point the Himalayan mountains were in the ocean and now people are mining sea salt from there.  You can buy pieces of it at natural food stores.  Derek mixes the salt in water and can sustain himself while riding for several days just on that fluid alone because it has many of the same qualities as blood.  He said he drank that for four days while riding through Big Sur, one of the most strenuous sections of the coast.

When Scott and I ride our tandem alone we have what we call “tandem mojo”, meaning that we attract friendly vibes from people who like talking to us and are very nice and welcoming to us.  We noticed that when we’re in a bike pack with a bunch of raggedy-looking guys who have been on the road for a long time, we don’t have the same mojo.  People are weary of our group and much more hostile.  We were enjoying the last few moments of light at the end of our day at Gaviota State Park when the camp host drove up on his four wheeler, and very rudely told us to either pay $10 per person for a campsite, or to “get the hell out”.  He prefaced that with, “don’t take it personally”.  We asked if we could all share a site for $35 and he said no way.  Well, all the guys took it personally and decided to ride nine miles down the road in the dark to the next campground.  I was pretty mad at that host too, so we didn’t want to stay there either, especially because he was trying to charge us too much.  So we rode as fast as we could in a crazy state of lucid night riding and got there in record time.  At night, you can’t see the hills, so you just power up without the mental element.  At Refugio State Park the host was very friendly and told us to share a site instead of paying $10 per person.  We all ate dinner together, sharing our food with those who didn’t have as much.  Scott and I really enjoyed our day riding with the boys.

Pier at Gaviota

Terry rode all day with us today.  Ben and Luis weren’t far behind us.  Bjorn stayed behind because he has a long time left before his visa expires, so he’s going slow.  We rode through a lovely town called Morro Bay.  At one point, many, many years ago there were nine volcanoes in this area, but they have all been destroyed by the ocean.  There are still some remnants of the volcanoes such as Morro Rock.  The weather was really great today, like all the other days, and it was a nice enjoyable ride through neighborhood streets, past golf courses, along the ocean.  When we arrived at the campground, we found out that the guide book was wrong, there were no hiker-biker sites, so we rode four miles to a different campground, but encountered the same situation.  Basically, we rode around town for an extra 6 miles looking in vain for hiker-biker sites.  Finally we gave up and sprung for a regular campsite, which only ended up costing $8 per person.  Later that night, Ben and Luis showed up and shared the site with us in return for beer.  We hit the sack pretty early that night because we were feeling a bit tired while the boys drank the beer around the camp fire.

Elephant Seals

In the morning we didn’t have any food to eat for breakfast, or any water to make coffee, so we woke up as soon as the sun rose, packed up, and hit the road.  I think this is the earliest we’ve ever started riding.  After about 8.5 miles we stopped at a little “town” called Gorda that consisted of a lodging establishment, a small store, and a restaurant.  We went to the restaurant for breakfast and were really shocked at the high prices on the menu, but decided to treat ourselves after our tough night and morning without food and water.  We gorged ourselves on eggs, bacon, potatoes and French toast, which cost $35 including $6.5 for our coffees.  Then we paid $9.75 for a small piece of low quality cheese and a loaf of old bread for lunch and left feeling a little ripped off, but our bellies were satisfied, which does wonders for our mental attitudes and the overall enjoyment of the ride.  During one of our rest stops a couple pulled up in a minivan.  They were driving to Portland and when we told them we’re from Alaska, the woman told us the funniest thing: “What did Delaware?  Idaho, Alaska, maybe a New Jersey.”

Today’s ride was really short so we arrived at the campground with plenty of time to walk on the beach, take showers, and just relax.  When we got back from the shower, the campground was full of bikers.  We were surprised to see our buddy Bjorn from Sweden whom we met in Charleston in October.  Terry was also there, along with Ben who quit a Wall Street job, Luis from Englund, and another man who was riding a recumbent bicycle pulling a trailer with a dog in it.  He was trying to bike to Oakland, but the headwinds from the north were too strong, so he was feeling discouraged and turned back.  We had a great time that night all sharing cheese, bread, chocolate and a bottle of Crown Royal that Ben and Luis scored from a couple locals the previous night.

Biker campsite

In the morning a fellow biker camper named Terry saw our bike and said, “Hey, it’s the crazy tandem couple,” and we were kind of surprised that he heard of us from a couple of other bikers who heard about us from someone else we met.  I guess we are unique because we’re on a tandem, so other bikers talk about us.  He’s a member of the Ginger Ninjas

Sail boats in Monterey

, a band that tours on bikes, and their equipment on stage is powered by people riding bikes on stage.  They carry all of their instruments and supplies on their bikes.  Terry is a drummer, but he didn’t have his drums with him because the band is not touring while the lead singer is taking care of his sick mother.  So Terry was on his way to LA.  He rides with an Xtracycle and carries a ton of stuff on it.  So he decided to bike with us for a while, but we packed up our things and got on the road before he was ready because we prefer to ride at our own speed.  Rode past endless strawberry fields while Mexican farm workers were on their lunch break.  The strawberries smelled so good.

The state park in Monterey is on top of a huge hill, which was really inconvenient at the end of a day’s ride, especially with all our gear.  We left our stuff and rode down to town to check out the boardwalk, but we didn’t go to the aquarium because we didn’t really have enough time to fully explore it.  Monterey was really touristy, so we decided to buy dinner at Trader Joe’s instead of going to a restaurant.  We heated up frozen cioppino and ate it with couscous, which was delicious camping food.  We love Trader Joe’s.  Terry arrived later and we hung out a bit before going to bed.

During our two-week hiatus Daylight Savings Time ended, which is a bit of an inconvenience for bike touring because the sun sets so early in the day, and we don’t like riding in the dark.  We woke up right at dawn, which is now an hour earlier, so we’re getting up at 6 am.  We were on the road in record time by about 7:30, which is the earliest start ever.  Biked through rural country today in complete disbelief that California is so unpopulated on the coast.  I wasn’t expecting to find so much rural space in such a heavily populated state.  Biked past endless brussel sprouts and artichoke farm fields and watched workers harvesting brussel sprouts.  I never thought about how labor-intensive brussel sprout harvesting is.

Santa Cruz is a great little town.  We really enjoyed riding the bike path that is etched along the bluff cliffs to the Boardwalk and to the Farmer’s Market.  We bought local cheese and honey and loaded up on food at one of our favorite stores – New Leaf, which is like a smaller version of Whole Foods.  There is a big art scene in Santa Cruz.  We saw some artist living/work places for rent, and a lot of galleries.  Also, Santa Cruz has a hippy vibe to it.  Overall, we liked it and could live here.

Reached the campsite right at sunset, which was absolutely gorgeous.  We were done with dinner and all end-of-day tasks before 8 pm, so we had nothing else to do in the dark, but to go to bed, which is ridiculously early considering that the sun doesn’t come up until 6 am.

Scott came up with a good quote, “Wake up and start living life, or it will pass you by in a dream.”

Sunset in Santa Cruz

Today was the day to finally got back on the road.  We were so happy as we rolled off from the driveway because we were excited to get to experience something new every day.  We just really love being on this trip.  Every day is so different and we never know what will happen, or where we’ll spend the night, but it always turns out to be great.  We were sad about leaving the southern Clendaniel family contingent because we got to know them so much better during our two week stay and we are surely going to miss them.  Uncle Ed paid us one of the best compliments we’ve ever gotten as we were saying good-bye.  He told us that he was glad that we spent time around his kids because he thinks we’re a good influence on them.

The route back to the coast took us past the bike shop where our bike was repaired, and down Foothills Freeway, which is a very popular cycling corridor.  Sometimes I get a bit annoyed with curious road bikers who slow down to ride along us and ask us endless questions about our ride, pass judgment on our choices, or indulge us with yet another “clever” remark about me not doing my share of the peddling in the back.  I don’t always feel like carrying on a conversation I’ve already had with a hundred other people on this ride while I’m riding.  A VW van pulled up and slowed down and an older couple asked us where we’re from, and when we told them we’re from Anchorage, they threw back their heads in laughter and awe and drove off assuming that we biked all the way from Anchorage.  Everyone always assumes that.

Scott packed a couple of sandwiches and cookies for lunch, so we stopped at Stanford and found a picnic table behind what looked to be a dorm building.  Within seconds a young guy came out to greet us enthusiastically after he spotted our Alaska flags.  He was born in Fairbanks and lived in Barrow for several years, so he was excited to see Alaskans, and made us feel welcome at our little lunch spot.

Then we rode through several neighborhoods before getting a bit lost, but then getting back on track by asking a passer-by for directions.  We had to cross yet another mountain range for the millionth time.  This time we climbed on Hwy 92 over 1,000 feet during heavy traffic.  There was no shoulder as we were passed by numerous semis and impatient commuters.  At the bottom of the hill we found an oasis of pumpkin and Christmas tree patches and produce stands.  Stopped at one of the stands to load up on fresh and cheap produce.  The strawberries we so delicious, we ate a few on the spot.

We had fun camping again.  We camped at Half Moon Bay on a windy beach and shared a bottle of wine to celebrate being back on the road.

In mijn reeksje over de natuur en beestjes deel ik graag volgende foto met jullie. Hier in België niet echt een plaag en dus wel leuk om te zien, maar in Amerika zie je ze op elke plek en in elke hoek. Al is het wel een hele uitdaging om die beweeglijke beeldjes op een leuke manier op beeld te krijgen.

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

Today’s travel notes

The TC got it into her head to drive an open-top Mustang down Highway 1, the coastal route from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Actually, it was the TC-once-removed who put this idea into the TC’s head. Reluctantly I have to report that the TC got a bit carried away with the whole experience and left me cooped up in her bag much of the time. I didn’t even have the chance to get cozy with the pony (that’s what we aficionados call a Mustang) although I had been eagerly anticipating that photo opportunity.

Still, the TC did give me an airing every now and then, so I can report some highlights of the trip.

My impressions? The drive to Los Angeles is just beautiful. LA is a dump. Drive on by.

Travel tip

If you can, spend a few days on the drive. There’s much to do and see.

Here’s another tip from a wise worm: Invest in a GPS. Don’t rely on your TC. If she’s anything like mine, you’ll get lost and end up seeing the, ahem, interesting parts of town. En route from Santa Barbara to Santa Monica, we encountered Oxnard, Port Hueneme and Sod Farm.

Recommended restaurant

Lucia Lodge Restaurant, perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean at the southern edge of Big Sur.

Recommended accommodation

Monterey Plaza Hotel & Spa, 400 Cannery Row, Monterey. Even the TC, bless her cotton socks, deserves a touch of luxury every now and then. But be warned, it’s pricey.

The book I’m in

Moonlit Cage, by Linda Holeman. Highly recommended. This worm felt homesick when the TC finished reading The Linnet Bird, by the same author, so I’m glad to be ensconced in another of Linda’s works.

The photos

Me cozying up to an urn in the Santa Barbara courthouse. Yeah, Keats dude: Leaf-fringed legends, deities and mortals abound. In truth, beauty and all that, I feel that I have a certain unfading charm myself:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Here’s the Mustang backed by a fittingly scenic view:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

The TC keeps remarking with glee how the car took her up and over 100 miles per hour before she had time to glance at the speedometer. Hmm. This worm is sceptical of the “before she had time” part of that tale:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

It’s a 4 litre, 6 cylinder mean machine:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

We started in San Francisco. Here’s that serene city, as seen from the Sausalito ferry a few days before we left:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

We spent our first night in Monterey. The Monterey Bay Aquarium is well worth a visit. It’s housed in a converted sardine canning factory situated at the end of Cannery Row, of John Steinbeck fame:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Me with a seahorse in the aquarium:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

The jellyfish displays are awe-inspiring, dwarfing even the TC’s height:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Here are the jellyfish in motion:

Another sort of jellyfish:

And perhaps the most ethereal yet:

These beasties are seadragons, related to seahorses. These dudes have the art of synchronised swimming down to a T:

Wherever I go, Jonathan is there too. Here he is masquerading as a porpoise, but I spotted him. Is he the most inept spy ever? Double-oh-seagull:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

We stayed at the Monterey Plaza Hotel in the middle of Cannery Row. It’s luxury squared. Here’s the view of the sea at dusk, from our room:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Just a few steps down the Row, two homeless people set up for the night. John Steinbeck would probably recognise their experience of the Row more than ours:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

The scenery from Highway 1 is sometimes breathtaking. This video gives some idea of its beauty. The noise you can hear is the barking of group of elephant seals on the beach at the bottom of the cliff:

Further along the road, you can get up close and personal with more elephant seals.

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Santa Barbara is gorgeous. So impressed was this worm, that I plan to write a blog post dedicated to that city. Here’s a snap to whet your appetite:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Malibu is luxury with a road running through it. Can’t visit your neighbours, for fear of getting run over when you cross the road. Can’t get anywhere without a car. As we approached from the north the TC chirped, “I could live here!” Then Malibu went on and on and on and this worm is pretty sure she changed her mind. Not that the TC would admit such a thing, of course.

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Santa Monica was blowing up a storm when we arrived. Extreme weather. The TC had to duck the kamikaze palmtree fronds. At one stage she was walloped in the middle by a low-flying cardboard box, but seemed to take that in her stride. Even so, Santa Monica greeted us with glitz, glamour and fairy lights:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

Early next morning all was calm and clean again, the palm fronds magically back in their rightful places:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

After a bit of research to find “you know, that beach where you always see people in films rollerblading among the palm trees”, the TC decided on Venice Beach, LA:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

We found this skate hire shop:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

And the TC fulfilled her heart’s desire:

Driving a Mustang from San Francisco to LA

That’s all for today dudes.

Think lavish palaces and imposing bastions are strictly Old World? Think again.

Hearst Castle, San Simeon, CA

In our proudly egalitarian American minds, castles are an aristocratic symbol of Old Europe, or maybe ancient Asia. But there are at least two Old World castles here in the New World — and you won’t need your passport to visit either of them.

One is Hearst Castle in California, a few hours’ drive north of Los Angeles. The other is Morro Castle in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The first was a monument to one family’s wealth and power. The other was a massive “We ain’t playin’!” fortress with stone walls 18 feet thick.

Hearst Castle overlooks the southern end of state Route 1, aka the Pacific Coast Highway or — as most Californians know it — Highway 1. You’ve seen this stretch of road in at least a few dozen car commercials on TV over the years, but nothing equals seeing it for yourself.

The drive getting there, from north or south, is literally too lovely for words. If you chose to skip the castle entirely and just keep on going, few who’ve ever driven this highway would blame you.

But don’t do that.

You need to see this place — not just to drink in the incredible opulence, but to touch a big piece of modern American history. In their time, the Hearsts weren’t just major figures in the media. They practically were the media.

There are those who believe, with some justification, that they deliberately used their influence to push the United States into an expansionist war with Spain in 1898.

The movie Citizen Kane, widely considered one of the greatest films ever made, all but made a target of the life and deeds of the family patriarch, William Randolph Hearst.

(It also made a legend out of Orson Welles, who wrote, produced, directed and starred in it!)

If you’re one of those who insists that America has never had its own royalty, what you learn here about the Hearst family just might change your mind.

Even in this era of mega-mansions and MTV Cribs, the splendor and comfort in which the Hearsts lived on this mountain is hard to fathom.

(NOTE: If any of you fans of the old Star Trek TV series feel like you’re suddenly having flashbacks, it’s no surprise. The set for the episode involving the Greek god Apollo clearly was inspired by this pool!)

Morro Castle — El Castillo de San Felipe del Morro in Spanish — was designed to make unwanted visitors to San Juan as uncomfortable as possible, and history shows they did a pretty good job of that.

Britain had Gibraltar. Spain had this place — and she needed it.

Madrid was getting rich off her Caribbean colonies — and just about everyone, it seemed, wanted a piece. Over the centuries, the British, Dutch and Americans would all try taking a bite out of Spain’s Caribbean holdings…starting right here.

Some countries even enlisted pirates to plunder Spanish shipping on their behalf. You know, that whole “plausible deniability” thing?

See? They weren’t really pirates. They were “contractors!” Before there was Blackwater, there was Blackbeard!

Bottom line, this part of the world was no place for a pacifist. Morro’s massive cannons fired iron shot the size of bowling balls, and the Spanish soldiers who manned them were cold-blooded professionals who “handled their business” with deadly precision.

These heavy guns defended San Juan from invasion

England’s legendary sea captain, Sir Francis Drake, found out just how precise in 1595.

Drake, a full-time adventurer and part-time slave trader, figured he could force his way into San Juan with a British battle fleet at his back.

It must’ve been a majestic sight — a classic battle line of galleons under billowing sails, blasting away with their rows of guns.

The Morro garrison, apparently, was not as easily impressed as I am. Taking aim at Drake’s famed ship, the Golden Hind, the castle gunners calmly put one of their giant cannonballs right through his cabin.

Sir Francis took his business elsewhere.

The British got a measure of revenge soon after, storming the castle from the land side, only to have their army so ravaged by disease that they withdrew after a mere six weeks.

Today, the castle is listed as a national historic site by the U.S. Park Service and a world heritage site by the United Nations. It draws some 2 million visitors a year — and nobody gets shot!

The one thing Hearst and Morro castles have in common: You can’t actually drive right up to either of them.

You have to leave your car at the bottom of the mountain near San Simeon and take a tour bus up to Hearst Castle. Even if they let you drive up the mountain — which they won’t — there’s no place for you to park up there.

As for Morro Castle, a decision was made about ten years ago to return that area to its natural state. This led the Park Service to tear up the parking lot in front of the gate. So if you visit, be prepared for a little hike over a long gravel path.

Hearst Castle. Morro Castle. One symbolized power. The other projected the real thing. Both are worth a visit.

Je suis parti tôt ce matin de Los Angeles. Encore une fois, super belle journée qui s’annonçait. Prévision météo pour L.A. : 30 celcius. Mais comme j’allais vers le nord, la température allait chuter graduellement. À San Francisco ils annoncaient 19 celcius.

Je me suis dirigé à Malibu pour embarquer sur l’autoroute 1. Celle qui longe l’océan pacifique. Je ne suis pas arrêté à Malibu dire bonjour à Bob Dylan (il est en tournée de toute manière je pense) et je n’ai pas vu Pamela courir sur la plage non plus.

L’autoroute 1 est une longue route très sinueuse qui monte et descend au rythme de la falaise.

Plus on va vers le nord et plus la falaise monte. Plus le sable est remplacé par les galets sur les plages. Et plus les conifères envahissent le paysage. J’adore l’odeur des pins omniprésente dans l’air.

Je me suis arrêté à Morro Bay pour voir le gros rocher et diner. C’est un village de pêcheurs qui est aussi fréquenté par des surfeurs et les touristes de passage.

Puis j’ai continué ma route vers Monterey. Rendu là le soleil était quasiment couché. Le changement d’heure fait vraiment une différence. Bien évidemment. En quelques minutes il faisait nuit noire et j’ai roulé encore un peu sur la 1 avant de prendre la 17 toujours vers le nord. La 17 est tellement sinueuse, on dirait un jeu vidéo. Les gens (je m’inclu bien sûr) roulent à toute vitesse et négocient les tournants sur les chapeaux de roue. Finalement je suis arrivé à mon hôtel, à une vingtaine de kilomètres au sud du centre-ville de San Francisco. Vraiment une très belle journée à rouler sur une route superbe.

Demain je vais voir dans quel genre de ville je suis atterri…

Position : San Francisco (Californie)
Température : 18 celcius
Distance du jour : 790 km
Distance totale : 7570 k

10-25-09

Sunny hot day again today, I can’t believe how lucky we’ve been with the weather. Our camping gear has sand all over it from the sandy campground, which is rather obnoxious. Scott painted a little painting while I updated the journal in the morning. Then we got on the road. The guide book said we’d ride through a fast food heaven in Bodega Bay, but we didn’t find any fast food besides a little shack that claimed to serve fast seafood, which is not a good idea, and it was closed. We’re making notes in our guidebook whenever we find discrepancies. Maybe we’ll send the publisher an e-mail with a list of corrections. So we stopped at a market to check for Wi-Fi and walked out with a large slab of smoked salmon and a baguette, but no Wi-Fi. There were several seals playing with the seagulls at the dock next to the fish-processing outfit.
Rode through more stinky cow farms, we were so glad when that was over. Then encountered some mean hills as we road toward the coast (Hwy 1 veered off the coast for a few miles). I’m getting a bit fed up with crossing mountain ranges to the coast and back. Took a break at a great little bakery in Tomales. Apparently it’s a hot spot for bikers because about five other bikers stopped there too. Met Kathy and Michael from Portland who are touring with a huge load of stuff because they downsized from a sail boat. They started out sailing, but the swells were so high, Michael got too sea-sick to keep going, so they sold the boat and bought bikes. They’re going all the way down the west coast then taking a left turn and biking through the south and then going up the east coast.
BBQ oysters are evidently the specialty on Tomales Bay so we couldn’t pass that up. Stopped at Marshall General Store for oysters. There was an outdoor bar facing the water and many happy people consuming oysters so we figured this was the place to stop. The price was a bit steep – $11 for six oysters, but they came with delicious bread, so it was worth it. The oysters were so good!
The route brought us back to the Redwoods! We missed these giants. Camped at an old historic campground, one of the original campgrounds in the area with old stone firepits covered in green moss. Finally we encountered other touring cyclists tonight after about three nights of camping alone. Hwai from San Jose and Ming from China. We have been trying to figure out how to get to San Jose to visit Uncle Ed, so we couldn’t believe our luck when we found out that Hwai had just biked from San Jose today. He told us about CalTrain and how to get to the station in San Francisco. Hwai is biking to Seattle on a mountain bike. Ming is a hard core touring biker. He has toured in Switzerland, China and Tibet. His plan is to bike north and then bike all the way to New York. His return ticket is in three months, so I wish him the best of luck. We all sat around the campfire and had a good ol’ time before hitting the sack.

10-24-09

We decided to cover some distance today. This is the longest ride we’ve done since riding from Squim to Potlatch in Washington, which was a 71-mile day. As I was walking to the bathroom in the morning, I felt a clump of dirt in my shoe, so I stopped to get it out because I didn’t want my socks to get dirty. When I shook my shoe, instead of dirt, a big worm fell out that had been squished in half. It stained my sock and my toe purple. The purple isn’t coming out of my toe, I don’t know what’s up with that. Anyway, that was one of the grossest things that has happened to me on this trip. I’m going to check my shoes for bugs every time. Then I saw a giant bug next to our table that looked like a cricket the size of a small pine cone. It totally freaked me out, so I took a picture of it so I could identify it later.
Rode past many cow pastures. Really liked the cute little town of Port Arena, but it smelled like cow farms. We reached a land speed record of 43.9 mi/hour today. That was really fun. Today’s ride was challenging not only because it was long, but also because it had many steep hills. Highway 1 is a very windy and hilly road with many switch backs around gulches and cliffs. We would ride down, down, down into a river valley, do a sharp switch back, and then climb, climb, climb out of the valley. This happed at least ten times. The odometer is at 1150 miles total for the trip. We’re only about 70 miles from San Francisco. Initially we thought that Uncle Ed’s house in San Jose would be our final destination, but we’re thinking we don’t want this trip to end so soon, so we’re going to continue to the Mexican border.
When I was a senior in undergraduate school, I complained one day to my advisor about being over loaded with homework, activities, etc, or something to that effect and he told me to enjoy my days in college because they are the best days of my life. I didn’t want to believe him then. Now I think about that statement and am happy to say that he was wrong. I feel that right now I am living the best days of my life, and I plan to keep my life that way. Everyone knows that we only get one life to live, but sometimes that doesn’t really sink in until you go do and see something amazing and realize that we have a short time on earth and it’s up to us to decide how we want to spend it. People who are afraid of death haven’t really lived. I want to live a life that is so full that when I die I will have no regrets.