Big Sur - Day Two

 The Dish and I were up early again. I slept well considering our new environment. The only aspect of the yurts that's truly tent-like is the thin piece of cloth separating us from them. 

Our bed was comfortable, and the blanket count sufficed. A constant ocean breeze raced through camp bringing on cold conditions, but we stayed warm.

The main house offered free coffee and make-your-own waffles. 

Everything tasted decent. 

We talked to a few strangers, looked at a few items adorning the 

walls and then we raced off up the coast.

I had to stop and take some pictures along the way.

We decided when we return to Big Sur we will camp for real; we missed the fire pit.

 But if we ever have the money to stay at another Big Sur resort we 

will stay at Deetjen's Big Sur Inn. 

Deetjen's is old, and to be honest a bit frightening. 

A few vintage cabins are scattered around a small piece of property

 and we heard the doors can only be locked from the inside.

The honchos were kind enough to install a lock on 

the door in the picture below. 

Deetjen's property line burrows into the woods. A private road in the back makes for a nice hike up to an old wooden bench with a view of the ocean.  

We could see the residual of the fire that raged here last summer. 

A stranger told us that if the fire would have enveloped Deetjen's the historic property would have been lost forever, never to be rebuilt again. Apparently all the cabins are not built to modern code, because they haven't been fully refurbished since the 1930s-1940s. 

After snooping around we hit the road again. Next stop, Nepenthe. 

Supposedly this is one of the oldest (and best) gift shops in Big Sur. 

I don't agree, because among all the fancy artwork and drapery 

there were no patches to be found. 

We spoke to another stranger before we left Deetjen's. The gentleman told us of a beach with purple sand, but we had to blah, blah, blah...blah...blah. He started spouting off exact miles from exact points on an exact road. Apparently there were no signs and the one-way dirt road was inconspicuous. 

We were never going to find this place.

But we found it.

We strolled. We ate. We played Frisbee. 

Then we were off on another hike. 

This time we found a trail along the side of the main highway, so we parked next to all the other cars along the street. 

The McWay Waterfall House trail lead us to the terrace of the house that once stood there. Lathrop and Helen Hooper Brown used to own the house and also owned hundreds of acres in Big Sur. In 1962 Helen gave the property to the state and she named it after her friend Julia Phieffer. 

I also read that one of Helen's wishes was that no one would ever be 

allowed access to the beach by the waterfall. 

 

Below is a photo from another trail we found.

On our way back to Treebones I noticed a lot of these wooden stairways situated over barbed wire along the side of the highway. On the other side there are trails that lead to the cliffs over looking the ocean. We will explore them next time. 

When night fell we layered ourselves up, grabbed 

two bottles of wine, my camera and my tripod. 

We walked the perimeter. 

We snapped photos.

We drank.

In the post before there is a picture of us sitting on red Adirondack chairs watching the sun fall into the ocean. 

We sat there again, but this time we looked up. 

Tricia saw her first satellite.

By the end of the evening we owned the place. 

We made construction plans. 

We laid out where and when things would happen. We were the proprietors, the security. That's exactly why it was OK to spill a cup of wine on the walkway. 

We would clean it up after we were done laying there, 

or whenever we felt like it. 

Soon we were the animals, the wind, then the grass. We were content, happy.

Then, sometime early in the morning, ravaged by a noxious stomach,  I was just a wet-eyed guest hugging a trash can.