The Lacaille 8760 Affair:: Day 105

This is the one lonely picture that I took on Saturday. Pretty amazing for how much action went down, that I only managed the camera once. In my defense, I drove for nearly nine hours.

Without further ado, here now is another exciting chapter in the Misadventures of Nick & Bree.

Saturday morning and afternoon, while Nick worked, I stayed home getting ready for our little roadtrip - a few chores, getting together snacks, cds, toiletries, clothes, camera supplies, and of course directions. In this pursuit of driving directions, to my utter downfall, my idealism got the best of me. I made the bold[studpid] decision to make take the beautiful[perilous] route up the Pacific Coast Highway[to Hell]. Doesn't that just sound like it would be a fantastic idea! By the time I was off to pick up Nick from work and get on the road, I had the whole darn fantasy worked out in my mind. We would drive the 101 to Hearst Castle and then transition to the PCH for a nice nature route flanking the ocean and the forest. Then we would spend the night in Big Sur and awake to the sunrise over the ocean, where I could take a million beautiful photos, all while enjoying the nature and companionship of my love. Ideal.

Unfortunately, sometimes reality comes to call and if it sounds perfect and too good to be true, well it probably is.

As planned, we hopped on the 101 and headed north. The mountains and the ocean, just north of LA are absolutely gorgeous. Within a half hour we were in the outside world and I could barely remember the buildings and crowded sidewalks of smelly old Hollywood. We drove until we hit Santa Barbara, where we stopped to have a bite to eat. This is a beautiful little coastal city with an atmosphere to match. Seabreeze and smiling faces.

Without dawdling too long, knowing we had a haul ahead of us, we enjoyed our time in SB and hit the road. Still feeling great, with full tummies, we cranked the tunes, cracked the windows and enjoyed the sunset over the ocean while cruisin' at a steady 65.

At around 9:30 we came to the junction of the PCH and the 101 and as planned, proceeded along our scenic byway. About an hour into the drive, we noticed a sign cautioning tractor trailers from going any further along this route. Figuring there were curvy roads ahead, we said "hey no problem for us!" and continued on. Not 5 miles later, the curves began.

What started as "curvy roads" soon turned into "winding roads" which promptly turned into "slow the heck down, or you're going to die." This last phase was the real kicker. We discovered that, the PCH turned into a mountain pass. On the passenger side, had Nick tried, he could have literally touched the cliff face. On the other, was a steep drop and the ocean. Every quarter mile, there were forboding signs that read "rock slide area" or my personal favorite, a picture of rocks falling on a car. As if it weren't enough, there were actual rocks strewn throughout the lanes as evidence. The warning signs for the curves ranged from "10mph" to "20mph" and some with pictures resembling what can only be described as a snake about to pounce.

And, it was pitch black.

And of course, at all this, I laughed. I laughed and laughed, manically, to think that these tretcherous curves thought that they could stop me.

Nick then informed me that it was not infact, a laughing matter.

I replied, in my true to form smartass character, that it would NOT be a laughing matter if in One Hour, we were still driving 10mph, in the pitch black, through snake curves, on the side of a mountain, flanked by the ocean. He agreed, and laughed.

One Hour and 20 miles later...at 11:55pm, there we were, still driving, scared and tired, curve after curve. Then, the breaking point - a sign that read "PAVEMENT ENDS". Well, if this wasn't the cheeriest thing I've ever read, while creeping along in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night. The freaking pavement ends!? What the hell does that even mean!? Battered and broken, nearly in tears, stressed and tense, all I could do was keep alert, and drive. Nick, comfortingly grabbed my hand as we broched the no pavement zone.

Luckily...it was only unpaved, loose stone, for about a quarter mile. It was just the shear magnitude of the words that broke me. Could they not think of a better wording of this phrase? Something perhaps a little less ALARMIST!?

We finally saw a sign telling us that Big Sur was only 24 miles away now. Excellent just One More Hour. I could do this, I had no choice.

Hair pin after hair pin, dodging rock after rock in my path, trying not to notice the steep drop nor the steep rise of mountain over head, windows up so as NOT to hear the Ocean, I drove. Finally enter Big Sur, is search of salvation. Big Sur...as it turns out, is more like Tiny Sur. In the 1 mile stretch that offered hotels, all FOUR of them were booked and/or closed for the night. Clearly, this was not the best idea I have ever had. We were doomed. Foiled. SOL.

So I drove on. Another sign, no, not another sign telling me that rocks would probably fall on my car and crush us to death, but a sign that said Monterey 30 miles. Well gee, what's another hour?

When we finally pulled into Monterey, my eyes bloodshot, my body stiff, palms sweaty, heart racing, we were in the clear. Out of the mountains, and back to the real world. It was nearly 2am by the time we found a hotel with a vacancy, we went in, and crashed(in bed, we didn't crash the car).

So ends this chapter. Comatose, unnerved, and flat broke after getting stuck at the most expensive dump around.

Tune in "tomorrow" for the thrilling conclusion.

Cheers.

Breezer M.