Tag: national

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The Windy Ridge

Our morning started a bit hectic as Deanna wasn’t feeling well…not well enough that she had to visit the Urgent Care just on the other side of Highway 101. We packed up as quick as we could while the rest of the group was cooking breakfast. I alerted the group, and made plans to link up with them at the day’s lunch stop in Morro Bay, or along Highway 1 towards tonight’s campground (since I’d been there before).

We were at Urgent Care for two hours from wait time to time seen. We then spent two more waiting for medication at the CVS next door. We figured the convoy would be about an hour ahead of us, so we had some catching up to do. Along the way, just as we were hitting Morro Bay on Highway 1, we overheard comm chatter of RV-ing at Albertsons after filling up gas. Low and behold, the group had still been at Morro Bay and were about to pick up supplies. Apparently they had a 2-3 hour long lunch since they had a large group and service was slow.

We rallied up behind the Albertsons and we’re Oscar Mayer (Mike) on Highway 1. Along the way Deanna and I decided to switch seats so that I can take photos while she drives. We broke off the group, switcharoo and then hauled to catch up. Unfortunately we got stuck behind three slow moving vehicles, and with a two-way highway, we were pushed further back from the group. We caught up with the convoy just as we neared Nacimiento-Fergusseon Road, and headed up into the mountains together.

The sun set as we hit the summit of Nacimiento Road, and made our turn onto Coast Ridge Road towards Prewitt Ridge. The drive was a well maintained forest service road that wound its way into the mountains. Views were non-existant as the sun had set so we pushed carefully along the ridgelines to the campground. We arrived to find vehicles already settled on the windy ridge—why they were setting up there that windy night we had no idea. The views are nice, but there are other ridge campgrounds in the area. We turned around from the crowded site and doubled back to find a viable site for 10 vehicles.

The convoy decided to split into two groups—one to continue back towards the entrance and the second to push past Prewitt Ridge—to attempt to find a large and flat enough spot for all of us. At the McKern Road junction we reconvened and looked over the maps, unable to find a decent spot. We stopped at Kelly Campground while a few rigs continued towards Plaskett, a half mile down the road, to see which site was larger. The recon group hit a locked gate so they turned around and headed back to Kelly, where we settled in for the night.

The site was fairly large and flat, but still tight for 9 vehicles. Unfortunately, fires were not allowed in that section of Los Padres National Park so we were out of luck for warmth and lounging. It was getting windy and cold, so with that bit of bad news we cut the night early. The winds continued throughout the night until about 2:00am.

The group woke up to a calm and beautiful sunrise. Some of us were just rising out of our sleeping bags, others were just getting breakfast started. After breakfast, we had our usual driver meeting to decide where the group’s next destination will be. As we’re lolly-gagging around buttoning up our rigs, Cris raises us on comms. We tell him to meet us on Nacimiento Road heading into Fort Hunter-Liggett—where we have not decided, but we will eventually cross paths. Cris had stayed at Prewitt Ridge that night, so we were just within a stone’s throw from each other.

We decided to start our journey down McKern Road to Nacimiento Road to save the time of doubling back towards the entrance. The drive is beautiful, and we make multiple stops to take photos and take in the scenery—literally on the ridgeline with amazing views to the left and right. As we’re setting up for the next photo opportunity just a few miles from our exit, the lead rig finds another locked gate. We had to double back to Coast Ridge Road and take that back to Nacimiento, a bit of an ordeal, but a beautiful ordeal.

What a beautiful drive along Nacimiento Road. The ground was still moist, and moss was growing along the road’s edge and tree trunks. Along the winding road, we finally find Cris on comms and he tells us that he’s at the Mission already…

The mission for today’s mission is called the Mission San Antonio de Padua. This Mission of the Sierra’s is located in the Santa Lucia mountains and was founded in 1771. It was named after Saint Anthony of Padua, a thirteenth century Franciscan, the finder of lost possessions. We arrived there to wonderful weather and just in time for lunch with Cris and family. We perused the site, taking in the centuries of history that this mission held—it’s just amazing how it’s stood the test of time.

We made the call to hit camp a little early, so we proceeded down Mission Road to Primitive Campground Road. Yes, the Army has a very elaborate naming system for their roads.

It was a very nice and secluded campground, minus the creepy trailers setup towards the back of the site. After spreading out in different directions to find a nice option, the mass dispersion gradually centered the rigs to a corner site with a community fire pit. We unpacked our tents, cooked up dinner, lit the fire, and then turned in for the night. It was a clear enough sky with an ever so slight breeze. What we woke up to find at 04:45 in the morning was the pitter-patter of rain on our tent.

Deanna and I knew our tent wasn’t waterproof, but resistant up to a certain point. I checked the lining of the tent, and yep, it was getting moist with droplets from the rain permeating through the material. We didn’t want to wake up soaked so we started scrambling to pack up and shift to the ground tent. The nutty part was that it wasn’t even a hard rain, but a consistent light rain. While Deanna packed up the roof mounted cot tent, I deployed the awning and constructed the ground tent underneath. The process worked well, but I was pretty darn soaked—it was a good thing I’d brought my waterproof gear. I noticed Jon was up and about as well, and he had closed up his Flippac. We later found out that he didn’t have his rain fly up and didn’t want to deploy it in the rain, so he closed up and attempted to sleep in the back. All three of us got little to no sleep that night, well except for Deanna who decided to sleep in until about 10:30am.

Just joining us? Catch up with Part I of this story here.
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A Lonely Night in Paradise

We had gotten word that Humberto, his son Phillip, and Matt and his family—who all had left earlier that morning—had arrived at a locked gate leading to the campsite, so we called the first audible of the trip to find a secondary site. Plan B was a nicely tucked away site: Paradise Campground, just off Highway 154. With a site named such a way, how bad could it possibly be? It was a bit of a drive from our initial point but close enough to arrive before sunset. We made the call, and Humberto and Matt headed to the new site with us not far behind.

We arrived at Paradise Campground with the sun just starting to set, with Humberto and Matt already set up. The night’s terrible site was a well maintained one with flushing toilets and running water and plenty of flat ground for the group’s tents, roof or ground. We were definitely roughing it hardcore in Paradise. After we arrived, we had gotten word that Jon, Brian, and Mitch would be arriving on night two, with Stuart and Cris arriving on the morning of day three. With the details ironed out, Brett, Andy and I unpacked, setup, and settled in with Matt and Humberto for the night around the campfire.

The second day started nicely with a somewhat late wake up and leisure pace. It was a brisk morning with clear and sunny skies. We slowly got up to pace, making breakfast, and catching up with each other. We even saved a gopher from getting eaten by a group of crows. At about 11:00am, we finished packing up and headed for our next stop which would be lunch.

We arrived at a sweet little restaurant tucked away in the hills just a few minutes south from our campground. This cozy little restaurant is called The Cold Springs Tavern. Luckily we had arrived early enough where they were able to accommodate the 11 of us in one of their rooms. The food was great and worth checking out for those interested as they serve some game meats, but I advise heading there early before noon as once we had left the facility, there was a large crowd waiting to be seated. The small area used to a relay station where travelers could rest and/or change their horses. They’ve maintained the old buildings and with the surrounding greenery, made for a beautiful and rustic spot for lunch. We saddled up and were Oscar Mayer after rallying down the street.

We decided to take Highway 154 and cut across to Highway 1 from Highway 246 for a more scenic drive. Unfortunately, once we hit Lake Cachuma, we ran into some construction traffic and were at a stand-still for quite sometime. We continued through to Solvang and enjoyed the touristy drive-thru, but after reviewing the remaining time of travel and the setting sun, we called it short and decided to hop back onto Highway 101 North to fast track it to our night’s campground of Pismo Beach.

We booked it north towards Pismo and after a short supply stop at a shady looking liquor store, which Brett thought was a larger market on Google Maps, we eventually hit the entrance to Pismo Beach. Pismo Beach is an OHV area where you’re allowed to drive right onto the beach to camp and ride your OHV vehicles on the sand dunes just behind the beach. It’s a beautiful spot when it’s not too crowded, unlike the day we arrived. There was a line to enter the park but we eventually paid our dues, aired down, and drove south along the surf looking at all the RV’s and toyhaulers littering the beach.

We circled the wagons at our makeshift site in the dunes, among the buzzing two stroke bikes and side-by-sides, but nestled next to a cordoned off section to minimize the madness. It was a killer sunset with some offshore winds but nothing unbearable.

With the fire going, food cooking, and children playing, we thoroughly enjoyed our environment as we always do. A little after dinner, we some chatter came over the comms from Brian, Jon, and Mitch heading up Highway 101. We attempt to guide them in using a high mounted green-lit whip antenna, but our signal was lost in the sea of campers. Of course, right? They doubled back, we made visual contact, and completed our circle of rigs, then enjoyed the rest of the campfire.

Click here to follow along with Part II as we climb above Pacific Coast Highway, and brave a maze of windy roads and locked gates to follow the Coastal Ridge north.