9.26.2009

the central cal coast!

Driving along Highway 1 toward Monterey, you’re twisting and turning along the bluffs so often that you’re barely left with any time to think. The turns keep coming, forcing your attention to the black asphalt in the headlights, braking and accelerating, 25mph turn signs every 500 feet. Eyes drift to the amazing scenery outside, only to snap back in time to avoid oncoming semis and SUVs barreling along the narrow road. Once you stop and hop out of the car, however, it’s a completely different story. The cold breeze hits you quickly, somehow crisp and humid at the same time, blending the scent of the ocean and forests. It’s that Northern California Coastal air, the kind that hits you when running in Golden Gate Park on Saturday morning.

The Big Sur section of Highway 1, about an hour north of San Luis Obispo, is sparsely populated. Few signs of civilization rest along the road, never less than 5 miles apart. Gas costs almost twice as much as the cities, no doubt a product of the remoteness of the region. Big Sur, more a span of highway than any real town, is spread along 90 miles, occupying a narrow strip between coastal mountains and the Pacific Ocean. Cut off from the rest of California, this coastal mountain range
includes peaks higher than 5,000 feet above sea level.

The water smashes against the coast far below as towering redwoods sit high in the hills. White cliffs here are especially steep, starting far below the water, rising to incredible heights just a few thousand feet from the rocky beaches. Deep canyons cut into the shoreline, as small creeks feed the great blue Pacific Ocean. The road traverses these gorges on historic bridges, many of which were constructed almost a century ago (and are therefore pretty narrow).

It’s a sight to behold, especially when starting a hike in the early morning fog. The thick fog sits along the cliffs and blankets the churning ocean somewhere below. The hills to the east fade into the fog above, offering no hints of where you’re headed.

Arriving at the Kirk Creek Campground in the morning, we parked the car off the side of the road and decided to tackle the Vicente Flat Trail. The sign at the trailhead informed us that Vicente Flat was a 5 mile hike in, which seemed modest at the time. The trail followed a hill up into the thick fog, disappearing as it rose beyond visibility. We started up, and continued up, only catching glimpses of cliffs as we hiked right beneath them. After a tough, uphill climb in, we noticed a sign signifying our entering the Ventana Wilderness. “Wait, you mean we’re just entering the wilderness now?”

A steep climb along some narrow switchbacks eventually gives way to intervals of meadows and small redwood groves. As you ascend beyond the fog, you realize how far the blanket of haze extends out to sea. The entire ocean is invisible, covered in a white marine layer extending beyond the horizon. Looking north or south, you see the hills jutting in and out of the coastline, the fog pushing its way into the canyons.

We continued along the trail, consistently gaining elevation, in and out of inlets formed by creeks rushing west. After a few miles, we take a right turn along a larger canyon, with the huge Cone Peak looming across the steep gorge. The trail, at spots only a foot or two across, is cut right into the steep hillside, forcing you to choose between precariously balancing over the edge and avoiding poison oak hanging over the trail. The poison oak is avoidable; I think it’s more of a psychological thing, especially because of the name. The three of us actually survived without getting hit by any of it.

The path never gets any thinker until you reach the Vicente Flat campground, set near an underground creek and large, open redwood grove. The campsites nestled in this area are very cozy, under enormous redwoods and within earshot of the creek. The creek, which disappears underground to the east and pops up downstream further down the canyon, seems to be year-round. The flow was pretty strong…coming down into the flat, we genuinely thought the creek was about 3 times the size it really was. Either way, however, fresh water is a quick boil/treatment away.
We turned around here, after a quick break at the flat. The hike back out was odd, mostly since the hillside was now on our left. We had to get used to leaning left to avoid slipping off the ridiculously steep cliff below. Emerging from the canyon, we saw that the heat burned off a good chunk of the fog. A clear view to the ocean now had us wondering, “how high are we?” We found out later that the Vicente Flat Trail gains about 1,800 feet in elevation.

Feet aching, knees shot, we finally saw the car again and sprawled out on the cool grass for a half hour. Feeling adventurous, we drove further north, traversing all 90 miles of the Bug Sur coast. We stopped off at McWay Falls, which everyone says if the highlight of the region. I don’t even want to describe the falls…it’s something everyone should just check out for themselves. A mere 2 minutes from the road, it really doesn’t take too much effort…

The effort it takes to get here is far outweighed by the unique scenery and the miles of hiking trails, taking you to places that feel completely foreign. About the same drive time as LA to Vegas, The coast is a totally different experience, secluded, wild and serene. Fluffy beds and nice restaurants may be in shortage, but who can argue with waking up on a seaside bluff, cool breezes, and redwoods? And 90 miles of it? I’m always ready to see more.

9.13.2009

adventures

So it's come to this...

...take a little restlessness, a little curiosity, some furlough days, and (a small amount of) initiative and you may find yourself on a rock fin on top of the world, perusing unique art in odd places, in a deep red-rock canyon in the Moab Desert, or overlooking the great California coastline in serenity, free to think on your own and (finally) take deep breaths. I want others to feel what I have felt, sitting 1,500 feet up or hiking through hoodoos; I think it's more inherently human than the cars we drive in or the offices we slog off to work in every morning. Humans are animals, and as much as we try to deny it, cover it with concrete, or drive through it, nature always continues on. We're products of a natural process, of billions of years of change, and yet we constitute less than a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. Our development as a species, as profound as we think it is, really isn't; we exist but won't last, and the Earth will get along perfectly well after we're gone. To think that we've figured anything out, in a few hundred years in contrast to the earth's hundreds of millions, is simply an act of arrogance and naivety, and besides, we're still in only one of billions of galaxies, orbiting one of billions of stars, sitting on a small percentage of one of billions of planets. Everything is and will continue to be; the human species, the sixth extinction of the earth, will end someday, and a seventh will come along.

That said, I'm absolutely proud to be an earthling, we really lucked out. And human ingenuity is something unique in the world...the things we create for ourselves are, more often than not, beautiful. Before we completely tear our world apart, at least some of us have given our cities and concrete jungles many reasons to shine. Sure we took the nicest, most forgiving natural environments out there and paved over them, but we still managed to create some neat things that are a testament to our ingenuity and creativity. It's not all bad everyone, and I encourage all to go find those places that take your breath away, natural or man-made. They're out there, and deserve a moment of your appreciation.

I made a promise to myself a few months back. About a year after returning to LA after a few years away at school, I started to feel a little stagnant. Tried the school thing again and it kinda sucked...got a great job, but still felt unfulfilled. I was older, however, and had a small income.

So on to the promise. I solemnly swore to explore my hometown, to take a look around and see what a tourist might see on his/her first visit to the Southwest corner of this great country. I realize that Angelinos are among the most privileged people around (it is, after all one of the few places where a pad 30 miles from the city center still costs $500k), and that there are tons of amazing things to see on an everyday basis. Throw in some weekend trips and so much is within reach. I surprised myself within the first month, and I finally know why Anthony Bourdain loves his show so much. Fucker, he has the life.

#1 Downtown Los Angeles

It seemed the logical place to start exploring, considering proximity, my office, and free parking. The anti-nature, sure, but I had to start somewhere. Plus, is there nothing more natural than the thousands of people moving back and forth through city streets like ants underground? The city is at once the furthest and closest thing to man in his natural state. We construct artificial towers of concrete and glass with manufactured pieces...yet is there anywhere many of us feel more at home?

Downtown LA is full of great shops, bars, and eats, for it's as much a big-city downtown as any other. Forget anyone that says LA's Downtown is lacking; like any other LA neighborhood, it has a flow that takes some time to get used to, but yields big rewards. I started with a leg up considering I'm there 4-5 times a week anyway, but from Little Tokyo, everything is accessible - the Old Bank District, the Arts District, Gallery Row, Civic Center, Financial District, Chinatown, Bunker Hill, and more.

Exploring Downtown is cake. Not only is the place accessible by the 10, 110, 101, and 5 freeways, multiple bus lines and three different metro rail lines converge here. Downtown even has its own internal bus line, the Dash, which costs all of a quarter to ride anywhere. Or walk..cause you'll never see or notice more than when you're aimlessly strolling.

Spend the day here and check out some of Historic Downtown's buildings, most of which have been here for more than a century. Despite the fact that most have been converted to lofts for lawyers and screenwriters, these buildings can still instill a sense of wonder and awe, especially for being constructed more than 100 years ago.

The Pacific Electric Building houses Cole's French Dips and two bars - The Varnish and the Association, swanky spots with good (albeit expensive) cocktails...

The Eastern Building, with its turquoise walls and giant clock...

But few are more spectacular than the Bradbury Building on Third Street. An unassuming building from the outside, the red brick building was constructed in 1893. It was renovated in the 90's and today looks amazing, at least from the inside.

There are tons of things happening in Downtown and the best way to take it all in would have to be the monthly Art Walk, which happens on the second Thursday of each month. Thousands take to the streets after work to enjoy drinks and the many galleries that now line the old financial district. I completely recommend checking out some local bars and eateries as well, from bacon donuts at Nickel Diner to ramen at Daikokuya, whiskey at Seven Grand to $3 Hoegaardens at Golden Gopher on Tuesdays. And there's always Wurstkuche and the famous Phillipes...

I could go on...but there really isn't a good way to explain. Just make the trip one of these days and see what's happening...it may be surprising.