Stops Along the Pacific Coast Highway

Two perfect days for us

The view of Morro Rock and Morro Bay from Blue Mountain.

The rooms at the Bayfront Inn at Morro Bay are tiny; the walls paper-thin. From the moment we returned after walking the sun home, we heard the details of multiple conversations and every dog bark and whimper. Yet, each of us slept as dreamily as happy drunks, only to wake up in the pre-dawn hours to the songs of the surf, seagulls, and seals. Was it my imagination, or could I even smell the salt air inside our room? Maybe it was still on us.

We began the morning in Thousand Oaks in the Santa Monica Mountains, found a path without a name, and started walking. It was hot and dry, even early, and while the hills rolled and the mountains pointed to God, there was not much shade. Occasionally, we'd come to a sprinkling of oaks, but the trails were dusty. There were lizards and rabbits and squirrels, but little else, other than various birds hanging out close to where a stream passed. We did encounter a murder of crows, all in one tre…