A Pirate’s Life for Me

Now that I think about it, we have an unfortunate history of taking the most scenic parts of the journey after dark. When we arrived at the coastal Hwy. 1 on our way to Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park on Friday, the sun had long been set. But that didn’t hamper our spirits. We were looking forward to our weekend getaway, camping with friends. (Yes, I said camping. In a real tent, and everything. In fact, I went to WalMart and picked out the tent all by myself the week before. It was a nerve-wracking experience. But I think I did okay.) Overall, our weekend at Big Sur was fabulous. "Two thumbs up!" The only harried experience was when we first arrived at the campground.

As we drove into the campground, at approximately 9:15 p.m., we tried to call our friends to find out what camp site they were at. Apparently Kevin had asked Amy to do this in advance. Amy didn’t remember him asking her to do this. In fact, Amy thought Kevin had already had the information! As Murphy’s law would have it, our friends’ cell phones were off. We checked the message boards at the front of the campground. Nope, no messages. At that precise moment, we realized that we could be in big trouble. In a desperate attempt to feel that we were making progress, we started driving around the campground to find our friends. We drove slowly, squinting to make out the faces of people gathered around their campfires. There were many roads that twisted in and out of the thick redwoods. And there were over 200 campsites. It was like trying to find a flea in a sandbox. To make matters worse, we didn’t even know what our friends’ cars looked like! Yes, we could definitely be in trouble.

We asked a patrolling park ranger what we should do. She suggested we set up camp somewhere and they would try to help us find our friends the next day. We weren’t excited at that prospect. We drove to the front gate of the campground again. The ranger’s hut was empty but the light was on inside. We walked over to the message board one more time . . . just in case. Then I noticed that, inside the hut, there were little cards tacked to the back of the wall with names on them. Maybe, just maybe, we could squint hard enough and see a name we recognized.

It was hysterical. There we were, standing at a ranger’s hut, in the dark, with our noses pressed against the glass, squinting like there was no tomorrow. On the last visible row, halfway down, I saw the name of our friend, Jennifer. She was at campsite 103. It was a very triumphant and glorious moment. Kevin went from being mad and annoyed at my negligence to being impressed and proud of my sleuthing powers. We found our friends at 10:15 p.m. The funny part - we had passed our friends’ campsite several times that night but each time around we had only seen one person, a young Asian woman we didn’t recognize. I would tell Kev: "Keep going, it’s not them. It’s a bunch of Chinese people." Later we found out she was a guest of a friend. And, get this, she also lives in the same apartment complex as we do and Kevin had, randomly, helped her jump start her car the day before! Isn’t that wild?

Saturday, we took a hike up the mountain to some waterfalls. We also went to Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park and saw one of the few waterfalls in the world that actually falls into the ocean itself. From our perch on a cliff, we gazed down to the water below. I’ve never seen such beautiful water in all my life. It was a bright emerald green color swirled with a navy blue color. It took my breath away. I told Kevin that I could never tire of looking at it. The rest of the day we spent at Pfeiffer Beach, playing football, walking along the shore, and laying out in the sunshine. Later I found out that it’s one of the most photographed beaches in the world. Honestly, I felt like I’d just landed off a pirate ship. It was so beautiful it was unreal. The warm, golden sand stretched out before us, only interrupted by several huge rugged boulders. The green and blue waves powerfully crashed against the boulders and the shore. There were bright blue and purple jellyfish scattered all over the beach and the tide pools. It was indescribably spectacular. After dinner we went back to watch the sun set over the Pacific. I will never forget that day.

After we said goodbye to our friends on Sunday afternoon, we took our time driving back up Hwy. 1. There were many vista points along the way, overlooking the ocean. Many varied and brilliant wildflowers splashed radiant colors alongside the road. A marathon was taking place in Carmel. We happened upon the stragglers at the end. The last one to finish was a woman who appeared to be 100 years old. Very interesting. (You’ve gotta admire her stick-to-itiveness.) As we were driving along, Kevin’s eyes lit up when he saw the map and realized we were in close proximity to Pebble Beach Golf Links. So . . . we paid the $8.25 to drive the private road to the resort. The houses lined up along the coast and golf course were incredible. We felt very out of place after camping for the weekend and then going to a ritzy resort. But, hey, it’s all about making memories, right?

This trip was good for us. It rejuvenated and energized us. I had almost forgotten how much I love the sensations of the ocean. I grew up near the ocean but I think I took it for granted back then. Yes, this trip was very good for us.