SF to J-Tree: Road Trippin'

Having caught a severe case of the winter blues, photographer Jen Siska and I started dreaming of road trips/travel stories we could pitch to give us a reason to get out of town and have an adventure. Somehow 'a writer and photographer drive down the coast out to the desert and do a bunch of weird shit along the way' seemed like a good idea at the time. Luckily Anthology was game to let us do this and we love them for it.

As is our luck, the day we decided to leave San Francisco the clouds parted and the weather turned unseasonably warm, but we still excitedly packed up her little black Subaru and left our scenic seaside city for the great unknown. We had a few loose ideas but no real itinerary, which is the only way to travel in my opinion. First stop was San Juan Bautista, one of the first mission towns in California dating back to the mid 1800s. We drove down the main road into town and were greeted by the boisterous crowing of a rooster, which was a good sign we were far, far away from the 'bubble' of San Francisco. The downtown was a bit ghostly but charming, with some old Spanish-style buildings and the requisite Americana diner (we were determined to eat at one in every town).

After greasy grilled cheese and crispy bacon we wandered into an antiques/vintage shop called Fools Gold, at which I spotted the bizarre Elizabethan-styled cat head above and Jen scored an amazing long wool coat with fur hood, perfect for our classy style of road tripping. The shop owner mentioned that some members of the Donner Party were buried in a graveyard down the road, which sounded perfectly macabre. But the day was too bright and sunny, and the view from the hill was much too scenic to even conjure up any creepy vibes, so we said adieu to SJB and on to our next destination, a place we've been many times and never get tired of.

There's nothing I can say about Big Sur that hasn't already been said, and I don't think a photo or words can truly capture what it's like to be there. But if I must...It feels as though you are at the edge of the world and looking out onto something like heaven. part of what makes you appreciate its beauty is the dreamlike slowness of getting there, a long journey up a winding road that treads dangerously alongside a cliff. In the periphery a gauzy whiteness drifts toward you at eye level, the sparkling turquoise sea seducing you with its siren song. You try to sneak a quick glance here and there, careful not to linger too long or lurk too close to the edge, always wondering what if, what if.