7/4 Costanoa-Pescadero County Park (Shaw Flat Camp) 10 miles

  One more comfort station visit. It’s hard to let them go.

  Found a trail along the rocks, then the beach. Met Ryan’s Mom’s on the bluff’s near Pescadero. Got a ride to town and ate at Duarte’s, an old-school establishment that really cares about food. We ate
Chili soup and homemade bread and drank beer. The Giants lost. Got a ride up the road to Pescadero Creek County park and hiked a couple miles into the backcountry at Shaw Flat. Real redwoods. Real quiet. They’re actually still out there, these things, that have been here forever. We talked and talked and waited for the sun to set so we could sleep. 4th of July, we heard the “bombs” bursting in the far off distance.

 

7/5 Shaw Flat-Half Moon Bay State Park (10 miles)

  Found a ride to hwy 1 real quick. A couple I met recently on the road and camped with in both Morro Bay and San Simeon. They were hanging out in Pescadero, looking for a place to get married. I would marry someone there–

  Pescadero beaches, rugged and outcropped. Ryan’s old family haunt, a serious and important place. Moments of reflection– Ryan’s father, family history and those things that never die. We took our quiet time.

  Foggy and beachy. This is not so cal.

  San Gregorio store. Nice to walk here. It would be nice to live here. Country music and beer. Ryan caught a ride to Half Moon Bay (foot problems) and I walked the 1 to camp. Stove problems. Tres Amigos for Burritos. Wet and dizzy was our walk–

 

7/6 Half Moon Bay State Park-Montara Hostel (8 miles)

  I’m a pleasure seeker. Some think I’m sort of ascetic, and to a degree I am, but the pleasures of the senses are too much for me to pass up on. So off I went into a Half Moon Bay I’d never known. Bought a couple books at a wonderful spot (name will come later.) Cormac McCarthy’s “Cities of the Plain” and Robert Creeley’s “For Love.” Someday I’ll write poetry like that. Probably not, but something that can approach it. And McCarthy, who can resist ?

  Into Princeton, a bit north of Half Moon Bay. A fishing town with a bar. Here I drank.

  Then to the Half Moon Bay Brewery (on the coast trail) for a couple beers. Some blues music, the kind of blues music you might hear on a Sunday afternoon at a brewery. Finally to camp at the Montara lighthouse and hostel. Who could imagine this place? Late at night, alone with the shifting light, lonely and a little bit happy.

7/7 Montara-San Francisco (20-22 miles)

  Much of this trip so far has been revisiting old places and seeing them in a different light. Walked through rugged and beautiful Montara beach and up into McNee Ranch State Park. Here is a place I used to run w/ my brother and his dog Miller when he lived in San Bruno. Here, walking and talking to my brother via cell phone, much has changed. So much hasn’t.

  Up and over into Pacifica and the surreal leftover cityscape of the 70′s. Brightly covered homes decaying. Old cars, old people. Not too concerned with the newer trends, comfortable with the old. Onto Pacifia beach and the surfers, north of Pacifica and the weird suburb’s within Daly City.  The tide was up so city walking it was into south San Francisco and Fort Funston. Here I met some of my best friends. Chloe Banks, a girl I lived with for 2 years and loved. Matt Sharkey, a Sunnyvale native at the top of his game. Nat Keefe, rockstar and best friend. Delilia, wife of Matt Sharkey and wonderful in so many ways. Drinks with Chloe and Nat at the Riptide in the Sunset district and a slow walk down Ocean beach to Cabrillo Ave. and 45th ave. to friends’ house Leah and Chris. Poet friends. Yeah, people still write it. Leah writes some of the best.

7/3 Big Basin (Twin Redwoods)-Costanoa (“primitive” camp) 6-8 miles

  Back out, felt good to be making “progress.” Nice to have a partner, too. Taking it real easy, worried about Ryan’s foot, was actually a good speed after some days of moving quickly. Into San Mateo county, views of the Pigeon Point lighthouse. A cool world in the Gazos Creek open space. Rolls of grassy hills on the bluffs to the beach. White white sand. Cypress trees and a cooler northern California clime. Really, you can feel  home in the place. A certain logic in being here.

  We decided to camp at Costanoa, a resort kind of place off hwy1. Fancy tent cabins, a snackshop w/ good local micro-brews, well-to-do families “roughing it.” Luckily Costanoa offers what they call a “primitive” camp. Essentially, the camp is a clearing of grass at the edge of a field by the manure piles. We felt pretty exposed as we were in the middle of a bunch of cabins full of people who weren’t sleeping on the ground. Strange looks our way, the shifty men by the manure on the grass. The kids were told to stay away.

  Comfort Stations: there were 7 of them. The 7 comfort stations of the cross. Showers, a sauna, a fireplace. Clean bathrooms. These we took advantage of three of them. And the stars were the deepest and coolest we’d ever seen.

Technical difficulties. I’m skipping ahead a couple of days. 6/24-6/26 will be posted soon. Briefly, Big Sur is on fire and I met a man and his dog and got a ride from San Simeon to southern Santa Cruz county to avoid the fire.

 

6/27 Sunset Beach-Henry Cowell State Park (Felton) 18-20 miles

  A cold and foggy morning. Denny and Buddy, my new partners (for the moment) split w/ the truck. Driving it somewhere “safer.” Own my own again on the beach, walking towards Santa Cruz. Sunset-Manresa beach is long and wide. Several miles of sand to walk. La Selva beach, Seacliff, New Brighton. A beach side cafe and met a guy Scott, 19 years sober. Born and raised in Santa Cruz, used to get in all sorts of good trouble. Cleaned up his act. Capitola, a disneyland by the beach. Found a great wine bar, Cava, and had a flight of local Merlots. Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk and the rides, Ocean St. This is an old place that seems new. Surreal, like walking through it in a dream. Stopped at the ‘Jury Room’, a bar at the edge of Ocean St., near Graham Hill. Smoking is allowed inside, Hank Williams III loud on the jukebox. Hitch-hiked a few miles to Henry Cowell St. Park, the edge of Felton. Had to fight my way into a campsite. Somehow it’s “illegal” to walk into the park and camp. So I asked for the ranger. The ranger took a look at me and asked for my I.D. He talked it over w/ the park staff. They decided to make an exeption. Meanwhile, cars are lining up to get in. God forbid I walk– I could be dangerous.

 

6/28 Henry Cowell-Santa Cruz hostel

  Slow morning, as it goes, slow as it goes.

  Families everywhere, it’s Saturday.

  Hitched a quick ride to Santa Cruz f/ a local kid on his way to a skate shop to pick up some stickers for his buddy on his birthday. Then they were going to drink Mimosas on the porch, maybe skate a little bit. Dropped me off on River Street and I was in downtown Santa Cruz. Peet’s coffee, the Pacific avenue parade. Some gear refreshment. Cafe Pergolesi and the Cool Kids.

  Met my Mom and Dad in Bookshop Santa Cruz and we headed to dinner. Great to meet them here, makes me feel more at home. A lovely evening of food and coffee, listening to the Blues. They left me at the hostel like a wandering son. Went into town for a while, visited some old haunts….

6/29 Santa Cruz hostel-Davenport (16 miles)

  Wilder Beach

  Fern Grotto

  Needle Rock Point

  Three MIle

  Four Mile

  Table Rock

  Sand Hill Bluff

  Laguna Creek

  Yellow Bank Beach

  Bonny Doon

  Panther Beach

  Davenport

  Breakfast downtown, old-time omelett and mealy tomatoes. Mugs of coffee. Colldege girls, pretty but sad and a little hung-over.

  Bluff walking and watching birds. Steamer’s Lane. Train tracks to Davenport beach.

  An evening on Swanton Rd. w/ J and Dana Nichols and their lovely daughters. An amazing house. Scavenged, locally and beautifully built. A private cabin in the redwoods for myself and the best sleep in the world.

6/30 Davenport-Big Basin State Park (10 miles)

  Early wet morning. A ride into town to start back on the walk. Some nice road walking in the more hidden part of Davenport, spent some time at Davenport Landing beach. Great waves and really a place to spend some more time. With my girl (where is she now?)

Greyhound beach, Waddell Creek. A canyon of redwoods and Alder. Set up camp a couple miles from the beach, a place called Twin Redwoods. Deep memory images–

7/1 Twin Redwoods (day hike Berry Creek Falls….)

  The tallest waterfall in the Santa Cruz mountains. And a series of others.

  Thank God for water-striders.

  Strange brew: yerba buena, yarrow, Old Crow whiskey. Add ingredients and slowly simmer. Sleep in the dirt.

  7/2 Twin Redwoods

  I got sunburned on Greyhound beach, waiting for Ryan. Read Tom Clark. Fell asleep in the sun.

  Met Ryan in the Waddell Beach parking lot. Back after a couple of weeks, hoping he can stay around awhile. Took it easy back to camp– good to have him back. Listened to the Giants game, and the trees. Walk out of here tomarrow.

7/7

After an extended rest, I attempted a return to the journey and met with Justin at a familiar trail head at Wadell Beach. Nice to be back in the redwoods with the ocean just a short distance away. The next few days were filled with coastline, “primitive” camping at Costa Noa, and a visit from the family in Pescadero. Seafood sandwiches, Creme de Green Chile and beer from the Lost Coast were served via a waitress adorned with blinking red, white and blue lights. Happy 4th. Luckily we made it back into the old growth of San Mateo County Park before the fireworks and madness began. Next into Half Moon Bay where after a night of wet fog, I decided that the injury to my Achilles required more rest and again left Justin to continue on solo. For now, healing and working on a way to return to the trip in some capacity (possibly biking) or short trips on the coast. Justin will be coming into SF shortly and it would be a great opportunity to link up with him and spend some time on the trail. Be in touch…

6/19/08 El Capitan State Park-Gaviota State Park (12 miles)

Yeah, running down the train tracks in the full moon might have seemed like a good idea, but my legs tell me it wasn’t. Huge day yesterday, lots of miles, and now I feel a good amount of soreness in my left leg. Ah well–

Walked the train tracks a good deal on the way to Gaviota. Quite hot, probably close to 100 degrees out there. Tuned in some good right wing radio, a little Padres baseball. I swear the combination of the railroad tracks and the transistor radio turns back the clock a few decades. And I’m glad.

Got into Gaviota Beach state park in the late afternoon. The park sits directly below the railroad tracks, near the 101. A pretty beach a few hundred yards away. Shared a hike and bike camp w/ an older gentleman riding his bike to oregon to see his sister. He’s ridden from Malibu that day. Some swimming…. A huge red moon a dramatic backdrop to my girlfriends voice on the phone, a long way away.

6/20/08 Gaviota-Lompoc

Woke, coffee (2 cups), swim. 101 to the 1 and out towards Lompoc. Hot hot road, absolutely no shade. Dusty and pretty and not really built for walking. Here is the dreaded section of the hike where there is no access to the coast. Between the private Hollister and Bixby ranch areas and Vandenberg air force base, the walker must walk around. I walked about 15 of the 20 miles up hwy 1 then got a ride into town by a nice fellow who thought I was crazy. Arrived at the rv campground by the Santa Ynez river which was hot and dusty, ok for rv’s but much too desired for a simple campsite. Ambled into town, limping (my left leg still hurting) and found a little bar, DJ’s Saloon. Here I was greeted sweetly by the bartender who bought me drinks, was a traveler herself. A surprisingly good jukebox, an air-conditioned room. Stayed for a while. Finally decided on a Motel 6, way outside of my budget, but necessary today. Really don’t want this leg to become an injury, and a nice bed and hot shower seemed to be the best choice. What is it with hotel rooms? The tv, the beer, they bring out a side of me. Good thing I’m not a traveling salesman.

6/21 Lompoc-Guadalupe-Grover Beach (13 miles hiking)

A cab to the train station on the coast of Lompoc. A train to Guadalupe, a small town with no tourists. Hitchhiked to Guadalupe beach, a ride from a local boy named Justin who thought I was a little like the kid Chris McCandless from ‘Into the Wild’. I assured him I wasn’t, though I could use the money he burned.

An amazing walk along Guadalupe beach, wide open and wild, white sands. Sand dunes and snowy plovers, very little access so very few people. Miles and miles of walking alone (and with the birds.) This soon changed, though. Approaching Oceano and the miles of beach access to cars, RV’s, ATV’s…. Sunburned girls drinking way too many Bud Light’s, their shirtless boyfriends eying me like I’m nuts. Flags waving: American flags, confederate flags, Bud Light flags, Jack Daniels. Lots of kids running around.

In Grover Beach I met up w/ Nancy Graves, a Coastwalk volunteer and a wonderful woman. She met at the beach and we walked the coastal trail to her home in Grover Beach where she made a lovely dinner. Her friend Carmello came by, another Coastwalk volunteer, and we talked and poured over maps. Dreamed of the day when we can walk north from Grover Beach into the Irish Hills and beyond. These are two truly amazing women and I’m grateful to have met them. Ended the night watching a Ramones documentary, fell into dreams of one day, too, being a rock star.

6/22 Grover Beach-Avila Hot Springs (8 miles)

Pismo Beach and the pier. Car show, a carnival atmosphere. Sort of like Fisherman’s wharf in SF. Kind of enjoyed it, bought some candy at the candy store. And some new sunglasses.

Slow crawl through Pismo and into Shell Beach. Stopped for pancakes. The coast trail stays along the bluffs through Shell beach and into Avila. At the cliffs hotel in Shell beach I walked upon a festival in the grass. Beer on tap, food, pretty girls hoola-hooping in the sun. 3 bands, all pretty good but you know the sound: a version of wedding music, a little soul, regae, rock…. I kicked my hacky-sack, drank two beers, and continued walking.

Avila hot springs sits just off the 1. I got a campsite and settled in, sat in the piped in pool for awhile. Lots of family’s there, I was definatley the only hiker. Sat around that pretty and cool night, listening to some of my favorite songs on college radio–

6/23 Avila hot springs-Morro Bay State Park (20 miles)

Woke up to Will Oldham’s text message: “Going to jump in a lake in czech.”

Coffee and huge pancakes, reading Cormac McCarthy. Soak in the tub w/ strangers, and a day of walking on the road. Pleasant at that: Los Osos Valley Road mostly, views of the & Sisters.

So behind me comes the highway patrol. Walking quietly up the road, “Is everything ok?” “Where are you from?” “Where are you going?” Far away from you, I’m thinking. “Somewhere close to Oregon.” “You’re crazy” he says. So I guess I’m crazy. Pulled over by the highway patrol because A: I’m homeless B: I’m crazy, as in on drugs. C: I have something to hide, and don’t we all. Well, I smiled and talked an was intelligent enough for him so I walked, an he drove away. The second experience I have had w/ law enforcement for no reason but that I was walking w/ a backpack.

South Bay blvd. into Morro Bay a car comes behind me and starts honking. It’s the Sharkey’s, my best friend Matt and his amazing wife Delilia, kids Aiden and Quentin. Caught up w/ me on their way back south to Long Beach. Pure love, we had fish and chips in town. A photo-shoot. Dropped me off at the hike and bike site in the park where I slept and didn’t remember any of my dreams.

6/16 Ventura-Carpinteria (20 miles)

The trip is colored a little differently now, at least for a while. Ryan, to our dismay, is having problems with his Achilles and will be heading back to the bay for a couple of weeks to take care if it. So, solo I go.

Familiar ground here in Ventura. I used to work out of here, sort of lived here for a part of 4-5 years. Walked the boardwalk past surfer’s beach, out past Emma Wood RV campground on the old hwy 1. Miles and miles rv’s lining the beach, flags representing America, Jack Daniels, Bud Light. A strange patriotism connected w/ recreational vehicles and camping– a land of the free let me park my home by the beach and drink domestic beer kind of freedom. Sort of jealous, walking in the sun drinking water.

Long day, into Carpenteria around dusk. A bar, a burrito, staying w/ old friends in town. After catching up for awhile I retreated to the “guest van”, an old broke down van in the backyard fully equipped w/ a bed, a light to read by. Better than a bedroom.

6/17 Carpenteria-Santa Barbara (12 miles)

Took me a while to get out of town. Found the beach (a good start) but because of the tide no access beyond a certain point. Wandered around through a nature preserve thinking it lead me around, but alas, no. Back to the beach and me scrambling over rocks at the edge of the tide. This, I suppose, was illegal as the rocks belonged to the beach community whose homes lined the beach. Well, I borrowed their rocks and slowly made my way out to where the beach opened up. Beautiful wide open sandy beached south of Santa Barbara. Took my time getting into town, but when I did, it was serious  . First a farmers market– then a bar on State Street where college girls eyed me suspiciously. Homeless? Transient? European? Settled into a hostel where there were real Europeans, a room the size of a closet shared w/ three travelers, 35 dollars. Cleaned up a bit and back to State Street for some classic roots reggae, The Mighty Diamonds, a roots trio from Jamaica. Quite a treat. Back to the hostel @ 3 in the morning–

6/18 Santa Barbara-El Capitan State Beach (25 miles)

Weary and a little blurry-eyed, started the morning @ Deangelo’s, a great bakery downtown. Ran into a friend of a friend– a small world moment. Late start to a big day, out along shoreline blvd. and walkway out of Santa Barbara. Onto Mesa beach and More Mesa beach, miles of quiet expansive beach w/ very little public access. Still and quiet. Nude beaches– Into Isle Vista, the college ghetto, kids with their trashing flowing into the street. Pretty girls on cellphones, boys w/ tan’s on skateboards.

Out of town and on the road, the high tides preventing me from walking much of the coast north of Coal creek preserve (unfortunate.) Found my way to the train tracks and walked/ran several miles into the night, the full red moon rising. Seemed like another time. Old encampments along the way, pounding surf to the west, hum of cars to the east. Hobbled into camp (El Capitan State Beach) around 10:00 and got lost, never finding the hike and bike camp. Settled in to a car site and found a college station out of Santa Barbara on the radio– another night on the ground, a day in the open.

6/8

Bay Area-Los Angeles

Thanks to our good friend Jimmy, we made it down to our start safely. A pleasant drive, the Giants won, Barry Zito got his second win. Down the 5, through the grapevine and Tejon ranch, the Los Angeles basin stretched out before us. We found our way into LA to our friend Arnon’s house (some know him as Lush) in the museum district near Wilshire. The mood there was sullen as the Lakers lost to the Celtics, but lightened after a few beers and some barbecue. Standing barefoot on the lawn amidst BMW’s and sleek black SUV’s, a block away from where Biggy Smalls was shot and killed ten years earlier, contemplating an endless summer.

6/9

Will Rogers State Beach-Musch camp (Topanga Canyon State Park) 14-15 miles

Woke up on a comfortable red couch. The smell of the La Brea tar pits. Ralph’s grocery, the 99 cent store (sunglasses, sandals, tupperware), breakfast w/ friends, the beach. 

Our plan was to start inland on the backbone trail, a 65 mile trail that starts on the eastern edge of the Santa Monica mountains in the Pacific Palisades to Point Mugu at the southwestern edge. The first 3 miles of our walk had some of the elements we could expect for the rest our walk. Beach, city, mountains. We found ourselves on Sunset Boulevard amongst the beautiful people, quickly into the mountains and the dusty trail. Finally locating the backbone trail, it was a chaparral covered walk through chemise and buck brush, the occasional scrub oak to get some shade. Hazy LA getting further and further away, a wilderness in the midst of the huge display.

We set up in a semi-back country camp in Topanga State Park. A familiar place. A strange couple in a quiet tent. A curious woman who came in late, went to the bathroom, and never returned. Radio waves and coyotes, far away from home.

6/10

Musch camp-Malibu Creek State Park 15-16 miles

Coffee, orange juice, Cliff bar. 

Carne asada taco taco’s w/ red radishes from El Primo taco truck on the side of Topanga Canyon road. David Meltzer wrote poems here, Wallace Berman made collages. 

A Gilia-filled climb up Hondo canyon to Fossil ridge. Lots of sandstone, plenty of shade. Up to Saddle peak (2805) and down into Malibu Creek State Park after dark. Pasta w/ shallots, mushrooms, green beans and red sauce. Sleep under live oak–

6/11

Malibu Creek State Park-Leo Carillo State Park (15 miles)

State park campgrounds in the summer. Canada, Iowa, Massachusetts…. A young couple getting high taking their daughter to the creek. Bob Marley out of the windows of the RV. 

We found a ride down Malibu Canyon road to the coast from a guy named Tony. He was very sweet. We decided to skip the rest of the backbone trail as there were some logistical problems w/ a 20-25 mile stretch of it (water, camping…) Too many unknowns for this early in the trip. 

Familiar places seen in a new light. In and out of hwy 1 and the beach, up to Point Dume and along Zuma beach. School’s out and the cool kids are getting tan’s. Bleached blond girls are real. 

Camped at Leo Carillo State park at the foot of Mulhulland Dr, an old stomping ground (Justin lived nearby.) Familiar places seem foreign when you walk there. Budweiser from the camp store, the Dodgers on our transistor radio, hiding out from the park ranger’s and the 25 dollar camping fee. A night on the ground.

6/12

Leo Carillo-Thornehill Broom (Point Mugu State park) 14-15 miles

County Line beach. Neptunes Net for a Calamari sandwich. Sleeping by surfers. Listening to the Lakers lose after leading by 24 at the half. Domino’s, hard, hard sleep.

6/13

Friday the 13th and it felt like it. Overcast. June gloom. Barbed wire. Not much walking on the beach during the first part of the day. After passing Point Mugu and leaving the Santa Monica mountains we entered the area of the Mugu naval base. Here, the CCT leaves the beach as the coast is private for several miles. This coastline “belongs” to the military. So much for the shoreline being accessible to all. Our route took us on some agricultural roads, through rows of ripe strawberries and chile’s. We saw where sod is made, smells of car exhaust and fertilizer. Finally to Ormand beach, beyond the property line of the military base. An apocalyptic scene: power plants, dead seals, local kids sneaking around. 

After some more road walking we reached the town of Port Hueneme, a small beach town south of Oxnard. Our first hotel, the Surfside Inn, 45 dollars a night. And it smelt like it. Like someone had died there. We got another room, and it was much better. We still slept in our sleeping bags on the bed, just to be safe. Two days earlier it was mansions and 5 car garages in Malibu, personalized license plates and double nonfat lattes. Constant home construction and neverlasting peace. Private beaches. Now it was families living in a hotel, month to month. Smoking inside. Warm children playing in the parking lot, cable TV. California I love you.

6/14-6/15

Port Hueneme-Ventura (13-14 miles) 

Breakfast and coffee, the road to the trail. Oxnard shores . Along the beach were roses in intervals, mostly white but some red. Petals lay everywhere. A few dead seals, each one w/ a bouquet. Rocks built up around them like little burial sites. More roses, driftwood forts. Ventura harbor to Seaward ave. The generosity of our friends has made this possible. A warm welcome from Paul and Emily in their beautiful Ventura apartment by the train tracks, a view to the beach. Chicken soup, showers, television….girlfriend’s on the phone. A little bit lonely. The front country–

 

 

 

Our journey begins on the 8th of June and we are busy preparing ourselves and loved ones for a three month departure from our daily routines. Scrabbling to get things in order and tie up loose ends we are excited to begin the trip and at times, can’t really believe its happening. Our goal is to complete the California Coast Trail (CCT) from Santa Monica to the border of Oregon and then travel onto the Oregon Coast Trail for the remaining time. We will be walking for three months at a pace of roughly one-hundred miles per week. We encourage all to join us, in any capacity you have available, as we pass through some of or favorite coastal places and many more where neither of us have been.