From my log:
"Behind on my updates, hopefully can write more when I get the chance.
Day 19: Hiked from Big Sur to 8 miles outside Carmel. Got a mile up the road I was supposed to use and found it closed for fires. Went back and took highway instead. Very windy, cold, misty. Crossed Bixby Bridge, was glad it was night so there wasless traffic. A woman stopped on the bridge to ask if I needed help, we talked for a few minutes and she said she saw herself in me that wehad a connection. I do feel the people I meet on this journey are special. They are part of this unique experience I'm having out here."
I awoke to a crowd of men on bikes racing past. I overheard one of them say, "look at that guy, sleeping right there [in plain sight]!" I hadn't realized how conspicuous I was. Oh well, I had slept through another night and was awake now. I gathered my things as fast as I could and got on the road.
My morning view:
I had packed a brand of trail mix that was slightly more natural than the brand carried by every gas station in California. It didn't have added sugar or oil, just dried fruits and nuts. This particular "womens' mix" also contained chocolate pieces. There was no milk in the ingredient list, but upon closer inspection I saw a warning that the product contained milk. It violated my vegan vow but it was too late, I had already bought it. So I finished off the bag as my breakfast.
I began to see people on bikes with puffy wheels so figured I must be getting close to some of the resorts with food and water on the route. After a few miles, I arrived at Nepenthe, a resort with an outdoor coffee shop overlooking the mountains and a gift shop, the Phoenix, full of exotic new age gifts. I took a picture in the Napenthe bathroom, which was covered in paintings. And sampled some of the perfumes in the shop, I was still looking for something to ward off animals and make myself a little more presentable. The bottle were all too big though, so I declined buying anything. I wondered up to the coffee shop, where the barista offered to steam me some soy milk for free, to add to my plain coffee. The views from the coffee shop's terrace were amazing, and I read later that writers retreated here, I could see why.
Interestingly, "Nepenthe" was the name of a fictional drug used to forget sorrows cited in ancient Greek literature and mythology. The resort Nepenthe was built around a house that Orson Welles and Rita Hayworth had bought together to celebrate their affair. The Nepenthe restaurant opened in 1949 and was visited by Clint Eastwood and Man Ray among others.
My original Facebook post:
*I heard the The Grateful Dead from Big Sur to Shelter Cove, which reminded me of my childhood. They are my dad's favorite band and he often had their music on growing up. I finally understood the band's magic when I saw the documentary "Long Strange Trip," just before I left for the CCT.
I stopped at the camp store as Tony had instructed, and bought a straw water filter. You put it in your glass and as you suck the water through the straw it filters out pathogens. This was my first such device, it was relatively small and lightweight though, perfect for my trek. I also bought a tiny tin of Tiger Balm to lubricate and sterilize (I reasoned the camphor and menthol would work as an antimicrobial) the blister I had lanced a few days before, it was still bothering me. The Tiger Balm turned out to do a great job alleviating the pain of the blister, although it would persist until the end of my journey.
After the Valero gas station in Big Sur, the last outpost before the long stretch without services, I wrote in my notes that there was a section of the trail I couldn't do because there was a sign stating that the road was private. I don't believe the two women hiking the year before did this section either. I took the highway instead. This was a small trail segment.
I approached the second mud slide. Here the locals had taken over an existing trail and were using it to get around the impasse. Groups of school children on their way home for the day lined the trail.
I ran down the highway until I came to Old Coast Road, which connects Big Sur and Carmel. It was the route used to travel between the two cities before the iconic Bixby Bridge was built in 1932. As I started down the road a truck with a dog chasing it passed me. A little while later it passed me from the other direction. This pattern continued until I reached the top of a mile-long climb, this was apparently the dog's exercise. The driver yelled, "you should run as fast as my dog!" And then headed down the hill one last time. At the top of the hill there was a sign stating that the road and National Forest were closed. So I backtracked one mile and headed out on Highway 1 again. Perhaps pedestrians were allowed? I wasn't sure what to do so erred on the side of caution, already having traversed one closed road and not wanting to have to cross any others.
Night fell and I couldn't quite make out my surroundings, but there appeared to be high hills to my left and whatever the terrain was it acted like a wind tunnel. I kept my head down, ploughing forward. After an hour or so the landscape changed, I had passed the Sea Otter Game Refuge, and the wind wasn't so strong. Many miles later the road began to climb and I was running along the edge of some steep drops. The wind was strong again, and cold. A car stopped to ask if I was okay. No one else was out and she parked on the highway. She said that I reminded her of herself, that we had a connection. Her name was Avalon, the legendary island associated with mystical experiences and people in Celtic lore. She warmed me of the wind up ahead on Bixby Bridge. I felt a connection with her too. This journey was special and the people whom fate chose to cross my path would forever be part of it.
I made it to the closed restaurant, and considered camping there so that I could have breakfast in the morning. It didn't open until 11am, so I decided to run on and look for an out of the way place to crash for the night. A few miles down I turned onto a side road, what looked like a private road for one family farm, and laid my bivy out under a tree sitting on a raised plot of land.
Original Facebook posts:
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