Exploring America’s most epic, beautiful (and some say cursed) road trip, along California’s coast

The notion of taking “the perfect road trip” is one of near legend, but so is the only state you can really have one in.

California, by way of the Pacific Coast Highway, is dizzying in its proportions, with the narrow, winding ribbon of road flanked by long beaches and cliffs on one side, and mountains and giant old-growth forest on the other. The landscape is almost too big, too cinematic to process.

The nearly 100-year-old route accommodates all budgets and travel interests, an à la carte menu of nature, food, history and recreation. You could have a literary-themed coastal trip as easily as one guided by architecture or birding, surfing, hiking, shopping or wine. But the edge of the nation also courts natural disasters, including mudslides, earthquakes and wildfires.

My 300-plus-mile itinerary between Los Angeles and San Francisco dipped in and out of these motifs, with surprises along the way. A road trip along the PCH’s State Route 1 needs planning but also rewards surrendering to serendipity, which is how I unexpectedly began my adventure in Johnny Cash’s bedroom.

Some trips end with a pilgrimage site; this trip began with one.

In the late 1950s, Johnny and Vivian Cash, his first wife, along with their three daughters, moved from Memphis, Tennessee to California as the fabled singer sniffed out a potential career in Hollywood, like his contemporary Elvis Presley.

The Cash family eventually settled more than 70 miles from LA, in the working-class town of Casitas Springs, between Ojai and seaside Ventura. They designed their own version of Graceland, a mid-century-modern ranch house overlooking the valley. “My little piece of heaven,” the Man in Black called it.

I learned of the Johnny Cash Mountain Ranch the morning I set out north from LA, from a friend I stopped to visit on my way out of town. A few hours later I was getting a personal tour from the ranch house’s new owner, Lisa Kenton, who bought it with her husband, Jerry. They have since worked to restore the details that match when the Cashes lived there, while also adding memorabilia. As we walked from Johnny’s office to the bedrooms, by way of a sunken living room featuring Vivian’s wagon-wheel chandeliers, Lisa called out, “Alexa, play Johnny Cash.”

“Walk the Line” blared as I stepped into the main bedroom. According to a plaque on the house, before it was built Johnny laid down in the dirt and declared, “I want my bed right here.” You can tour the house (the website advertises open days, or larger groups can arrange them), but unlike Graceland you can book a stay in the Cash home, cook on their barbecue deck, swim in their pool and lounge at the poolside bar that was converted from the girls’ playhouse. Hell, you can even write a song there. It only opened to the public two years ago so you might be the first to do that since Cash himself.

Courtesy Lisa Kenton

As I drove north along the PCH and took in the driftwood sculptures erected on surfing beaches, I played my favorite Cash song, “Ring of Fire” (written on nearby Casitas Lake according to Vivian’s autobiography). My next stop was Montecito’s Hot Springs Canyon Trailhead , near Santa Barbara, and its ring of fire of a hike. These natural creek-fed hot springs are among the last in the country accessible and free to anyone — you just need to hike a challenging 1.3 miles into the Los Padres National Forest.

Only a few others were at the springs — a cascade of cloudy blue pools as big as hot tubs. As I approached the highest one, a friendly surfer-type in his 60s sized me up as a newcomer and tipped me off that it was the hottest, nearly scalding. A mid-level pool was 7 feet long and a foot deep, the temperature Goldilocks perfect. I soaked until it eased my muscles and boosted my already good mood.

I returned to the parking lot just as the sun set and raced to La Playa Azul Café in Santa Barbara for a burrito and margarita before it closed at 8 p.m., scoring a spot on their oasis of a patio. For dessert I walked to the locally famous McConnell’s ice cream on State Street near E. De La Guerra Street, before checking into the Leta Santa Barbara Goleta , an upscale motel with a pool and vinyl shop, owned by Hilton.

At Santa Barbara Harbor, the outdoor seating area of Dart Coffee lies between the city’s maritime museum and a bright orange, 1960s-era Purisima diving bell. Based on overheard conversations of early-morning customers, many slept the night on their boats.

Later, before checking out of my room, I took a cooling dip in the pool. The day’s elemental theme was water.

Nojoqui Falls Park is located on a small road off Highway 101 between Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo, but there’s no sign for the turnoff. A short, pleasant trail along a pretty creek takes hikers to the foot of the 80-foot-high craggy waterfall. Due to the dry conditions leading to the coastal fires farther north, the waterfall was far from raging, but it meant I could easily cup it in my hands for a delicious drink.

Just beyond the college town of San Luis Obispo , locally referred to as SLO (pronounced “slow”), lies the postcard-perfect state park of Montaña de Oro , where the scent of eucalyptus trees gives way to ocean breezes on the drive to the start of a bluff trail. The park gets its golden name from wild mustard and California poppies that bloom on its hillsides in the spring, but I settled for the bright blue waters and waves crashing against rocks and cliffs.

The park’s Spooner’s Cove, named after a family that once resided here, was another gathering spot. A group of teen trail runners cooled down by swimming in the freezing waters beyond its beach. I only allowed my feet to get numb in the small waves.

Nearby, in the laid-back twin towns of Los Osos and Baywood, the Sweet Springs Nature Preserve skirts Morro Bay. Other visitors to the preserve included bay turtles, blue herons and a snowy white egret, with kayakers paddling behind them in the bay. The spot is also something of a natural watering hole between the all-porch hangout of Beerwood , and the wood-walled dive bar Niffy’s Merrimaker (locally known as the Marriage Breaker).

But the best view was from the rooftop bar at the Hotel San Luis Obispo where I watched the late sunlight dim against the local volcanoes-turned-mountains surrounding the town.

The original Cal Poly university campus there gives San Luis Obispo a youthful energy. The small park in front of the adobe-looking Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa was packed on a Friday night with an all-ages crowd listening to live music.

The mission, founded in 1772, is one of 21 in California. The road connecting them (and the towns between San Diego and Monterey) was known as El Camino Real. It was also the setting for the fictional adventures of Zorro, a swashbuckling hero serialized in films and books by Johnston McCulley starting in 1919. Today, El Camino Real is largely Highway 101, running parallel to, and at times overlapping with, Route 1.

Other architectural highlights of SLO included a walkthrough of the garish and ornate Madonna Inn , a Disneyland-esque hotel and restaurant. Three miles north on the 101 lies the abandoned sign and main building of the former Milestone Mo-Tel, the first motel in America , which opened in 1925 and closed in 1991.

Drew Kelly/The New York Times/Redux

At Cal Poly, there’s a unique park of public architecture structures called the Experimental Practices Laboratory where you hike from one imaginative student legacy project to another, up and down the hills.

The most popular sandwich shop in town is, deservedly, the headquarters location of High Street Market and Deli . The Green Bottle bar and beer garden there was a lively spot to hang out in while I waited an hour as they worked through a queue of hungry patrons, for my perfect, stacked garden burger.

My next stop was Cayucos, another popular beach town with a pier, this one with a view of the iconic Morro Rock, likewise jutting into the ocean. I scored a stool at the popular upstairs bar at Schooners where sea breezes rolled in through the open windows.

Then it was on to the towns of Cambria and San Simeon, where I began retracing my steps from Cali road trips past, which largely demonstrated how little has changed in the area over the last 25 years.

The Piedras Blancas Elephant Seal Rookery (7 miles north of San Simeon) remains full of massive, delightfully noisy beasts. They’re protected from sharks by all the kelp growth in that spot, explained a volunteer docent who also shared that the beach’s live cam gets rather steamy in January.

Twenty-five years earlier I’d also visited San Simeon’s Hearst Castle , bespoke home of media mogul William Randolph Hearst, now more famous for his fictionalized portrayal in Orson Wells’ “Citizen Kane.” It’s a stunningly beautiful, if ostentatious, display of architecture, especially in contrast to an otherwise undeveloped region of the coast — yet I was surprised to see the parking lot packed. Sure, Hearst was once Elon Musk-famous, but he died 75 years ago. Luckily for all the visitors, the castle was later donated to the state to keep its legacy intact.

The farthest north I’d reach that day was the stunning 150-foot-high Ragged Point, 15 miles beyond San Simeon. A challenging trail takes you to a mashup of rocks and waves at the bottom. At the top, next to the Ragged Point Inn, stands a wooden ring sculpture called “Portal to Big Sur,” and through it you can see miles ahead — miles that would remain inaccessible during this trip.

Just a mile or so north of Ragged Point on Route 1 a closed road sign and police car behind it turned me around. Two uncontained wildfires near the coast had been causing evacuations and business closings in the weeks and days ahead of my visit. Only a few days earlier, I received a call canceling my yurt reservation at the Big Sur glamping spot Treebones . Instead, I doubled back to the San Simeon Lodge motel. It was clean and comfortable but no Hearst Castle or even Treebones yurt.

Due to the closing of 30 or so miles of the PCH, I had to drive south and connect with the 101 north in order to go around the fires, and back out to the coast and down to Big Sur that day. It was a 190-mile backwards ‘C’-shaped detour. My personal ring of fire.

But first, I parked in the middle of Cambria, a charming strip of a town, for olallieberry pie for breakfast. Linn’s , decorated with vintage bikes mounted along its high walls, lived up to the hype. My slice was an alchemy of crust and rich berry, somewhere in the blue to blackberry spectrum. Linn’s also uses it for cream puffs, muffins, milkshakes and tea, but “pie is our why” read my coffee mug with their slogan on it.

On my detour along the 101 I took in the mountains in the distance and farmland in between. Workers were picking the rows of vegetables or wine grapes, recalling John Steinbeck’s “The Grapes of Wrath,” one of two books I reread for this California adventure. I was, as Steinbeck wrote in it, “going to California really to go home again,” meaning it was one of those destinations you visited for the purpose of going back home to tell people about. Bragging.

Once I circled back to the coast I decided to give Monterey, and later Santa Cruz, the short shrift. While they have their histories, charms and attractions (a world-class aquarium in the former, and vampires in the latter, according to the 1987 film “The Lost Boys”), I prioritized small towns and big nature instead.

Of all the beautiful hikes I enjoyed on this trip, the most breathtaking was in Point Lobos State Natural Reserve , less than 4 miles south of the boutique-y Carmel-by-the-Sea, where Clint Eastwood was once mayor. The eponymous trees of the Cypress Grove Trail framed pelicans flying in formation at eye level, above clear turquoise ocean waters crashing against jagged sea walls. Everyone I heard, as they rounded the trail to the northern tip, uttered a variation of “Oooh!” or “Wow!”

It was another sunny day with no visible smoke, but smaller roads and state parks were closed for emergency vehicles. Handmade signs thanked the firefighters as I entered the Big Sur region.

Just after crossing the oft-photographed Bixby Bridge, a California Highway Patrol officer was writing out tickets to those parking unsafely at the edge of Route 1 to snap their selfies with the nearly 100-year-old crossing.

Having reread Jack Kerouac’s “Big Sur” just before my trip I was disappointed that, because of wildfire threats, I couldn’t take the narrow Coast Road into Bixby Canyon (called Raton Canyon in the book). I’d wanted to find the spot where the writer stayed and wrote about, a cabin belonging to his friend, poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti.

It was in “Big Sur,” published in 1962, that I first heard of the legendary Nepenthe restaurant, the most famous in that area of the coast. Sixty-four years later it’s still “a beautiful clifftop restaurant with vast outdoor patio, with excellent food, excellent waiters and management, good drinks, chess tables, chairs and tables to just sit in the sun and look at the grand coast,” as Kerouac reviewed it in his book. He took some creative license by calling their signature sandwich, Ambrosia burgers, “Heavenburgers.”

Nepenthe comes from the Greek meaning “no sorrow” and was an ancient Egyptian drug to induce forgetfulness, according to the menu. My sorrowless meal was enjoyed outside on the deck, 808 feet above the ocean, at sunset, on Labor Day. My server said most years that holiday is their busiest, with a 3-hour wait (they don’t take reservations). But I wasn’t lucky, I was tenacious. With a lot of Big Sur shut down and inaccessible from the south, and only days from the end of a mandatory evacuation, many visitors assumed the place was closed — even though Nepenthe kept its website updated throughout.

I had the vegetarian version of the Ambrosia burger and a light and refreshing local Albariño wine by La Marea, from an extensive list of options. Just after the sun melted into the sea a deer trotted by, followed by its more nervous baby. The redwood interior of Nepenthe is beautiful as well, a large round fireplace and the bar balance each other out.

That night I stayed at the historic Deetjen’s Big Sur Inn , less than a mile from Nepenthe. But before I tucked in, I strapped on a headlamp and hiked up the road behind the Inn, along a little creek and multi-story redwoods.

The road twisted back for an expansive view of the coast and more stars than I’ve seen since I don’t know when. Milky Way dense. Discernible satellites. A bright Venus outshining everything. And the only sounds were crickets and waves crashing far below. Another perfect moment.

Deetjen’s Big Sur Inn is historically rustic. The rooms don’t have keys. Cell service, much less Wi-Fi, is not available. One of its old-world charms is the handwritten guestbooks (they call them journals) in each room.

I stayed up reading mine, in Little Room. It was packed with tiny biographies, poetry, words of gratitude and drawings (especially of the sweet resident cats). One little kid used several pages to start an illustrated novel. They came for honeymoons, anniversaries, birthdays or just escapes from the real world (aided by lack of internet).

Deetjen’s is on the National Register of Historic Places, one of the few spots that catered to early travelers on the old Carmel-San Simeon Highway, the first stretch of what would become Route 1. I slept deeply in a darkness and quiet rarely found in any accommodation today .

Even if you don’t stay at the inn, try to book dinner or breakfast at its restaurant, which was originally built as a barn in the late 1930s by Norwegian Helmuth Deetjen himself, from local redwoods and materials reclaimed from Monterey’s famous Cannery Row (immortalized by another Steinbeck novel).

Jason Henry/The New York Times/Redux

Visibility driving back north was hazy with wildfire smoke that morning. I had to skip the Henry Miller Memorial Library cabin and Andrew Molera State Park , where the river meets the ocean — both closed.

By the time I reached Monterey it was blue skies again. And I was making fast time because Route 1 temporarily turns into a highway until Santa Cruz.

Just shy of the fun college town of Santa Cruz, I stopped for a fancy lunch at the Shadowbrook Restaurant in Capitola. The small beach town has brightly painted houses, an old train bridge, a river with homes and little shops along it. Shadowbrook’s website says “it’s not about the cable car” that you can take down to their riverside patio, but it kinda is.

The Pacific Coast Highway narrowed to two lanes again and the coast resembled the giant sandcastle cliffs of Limbo, as depicted in Christopher Nolan’s “Inception.”

I was in a hurry — rare for this trip — to check into my final accommodation: a hostel located on the grounds of a historic lighthouse in Pescadero called Pigeon Point .

The 115-foot lighthouse was built in 1872 to keep travelers safe between Monterey and San Francisco before there was a PCH. The lighthouse itself is being restored but it has a small museum, gift shop and a hostel where you can book a private room or, for only $40 as I did, a bed in a shared room. Everyone has use of a common kitchen and living room, and Wi-Fi. Although my room had six bunks, my only roommate was a quiet man from Switzerland who was also traveling from LA to San Francisco, but by bike. He too had to make a wide detour around the fires.

I was eager to check in at the earliest time because that’s also when you can book the private, outdoor, cliffside hot tub (30 minutes for $10). I knew exactly when I wanted it.

Tayfun Coskun/Anadolu/Getty Images

Over dinner at the nearby Cascade Restaurant , I thought of how far I’d come and how it seemed much longer than what you can reach on two tanks of gas. Traveling the liminal space between the state’s most famous cities felt like I’d circumnavigated a small country.

Back at the lighthouse and only minutes before sunset, I walked out on their small deck containing little more than a hot tub and 180-degree view of cliffs and ocean. As a formation of pelicans flew by only feet away and waves danced below, I sank down just as the sun did on the red-yellow horizon, a beautifully epic ending to what felt like the perfect-as-it-gets coastal California road trip of my dreams.

“完美公路旅行”的概念近乎传奇，但唯一能真正实现完美公路旅行的州也同样如此。

沿着太平洋海岸公路游览加利福尼亚，其壮丽的景色令人目眩神迷。这条狭窄蜿蜒的公路一侧是绵长的海滩和悬崖，另一侧则是巍峨的群山和原始森林。这片景色几乎太过辽阔，太过如电影画面般引人入胜，让人难以完全领略。

这条近百年历史的路线能够满足各种预算和旅行兴趣，提供自然风光、美食、历史遗迹和休闲娱乐等多种选择。您可以轻松安排一次以文学为主题的海岸之旅，也可以选择以建筑、观鸟、冲浪、徒步、购物或品酒为主题的旅行。但这条路线也容易遭受自然灾害的侵袭，例如泥石流、地震和野火。

我从洛杉矶到旧金山的300多英里行程，一路穿插着这些主题，惊喜不断。沿着太平洋海岸公路（PCH）的1号州道自驾游需要规划，但也乐于接受偶然的惊喜，而我的冒险之旅正是从约翰尼·卡什的卧室意外开启的。

有些旅行以朝圣地结束；而这次旅行则以朝圣地开始。

20 世纪 50 年代末，约翰尼·卡什和他的第一任妻子薇薇安·卡什，以及他们的三个女儿，从田纳西州孟菲斯搬到了加利福尼亚州，这位传奇歌手嗅到了在好莱坞发展事业的潜在机会，就像他的同代人埃尔维斯·普雷斯利一样。

卡什一家最终定居在距离洛杉矶70多英里的卡西塔斯斯普林斯小镇，这是一个位于奥海和海滨小镇文图拉之间的工人阶级小镇。他们设计了自己的“格雷斯兰”，一座俯瞰山谷的中世纪现代风格牧场式住宅。“我的小天堂，”这位“黑衣人”如此称呼它。

那天早上我从洛杉矶出发北上，途中拜访了一位朋友，才得知约翰尼·卡什山庄的事。几个小时后，我便跟随新主人丽莎·肯顿参观了这座山庄。丽莎和她的丈夫杰瑞买下了它，并努力恢复卡什一家居住时的细节，同时还添置了一些纪念品。我们从约翰尼的办公室走到卧室，途中经过一个下沉式客厅，客厅里挂着薇薇安的马车轮吊灯。这时，丽莎喊道：“Alexa，播放约翰尼·卡什的歌。”

我走进主卧室时，耳边响起了《Walk the Line》的旋律。房子上的一块牌匾记载，在房子建成之前，约翰尼·卡什躺在泥地上，宣布：“我的床就在这里。” 你可以参观这栋房子（网站上会公布开放日信息，大型团体也可以预约），但与雅园不同的是，你可以预订入住卡什的故居，在他们的烧烤露台上烹饪美食，在泳池里游泳，还可以在由女孩们的游戏室改造而成的池畔酒吧里放松身心。你甚至可以在这里创作一首歌。这里两年前才对公众开放，所以你很可能是自卡什本人之后第一个在这里创作歌曲的人。

感谢 Lisa Kenton 提供图片

我沿着太平洋海岸公路一路向北，欣赏着冲浪海滩上用漂流木搭建的雕塑，同时播放着我最爱的约翰尼·卡什的歌曲《火环》（据薇薇安的自传所述，这首歌是在附近的卡西塔斯湖创作的）。我的下一站是圣巴巴拉附近的蒙特西托温泉峡谷步道起点，那里有一条如同火环般的徒步路线。这些天然溪流汇聚而成的温泉是美国境内为数不多的可以免费进入的温泉之一——你只需要徒步1.3英里（约2.1公里）进入洛斯帕德雷斯国家森林即可。

只有寥寥几人来到温泉——一连串浑浊的蓝色水池，个头堪比热水浴缸。我走到最高的那个水池边，一位六十多岁、打扮得像冲浪者的友善男子打量了我一番，看出我是新来的，便告诉我那是水最热的，几乎烫得要命。中间那个水池长七英尺，深一英尺，水温刚刚好。我泡在里面，直到肌肉放松下来，心情也更加愉悦。

我回到停车场时，太阳正好落山，然后飞奔到圣巴巴拉的La Playa Azul Café，赶在晚上8点关门前买了份墨西哥卷饼和玛格丽塔，幸运地在他们那绿意盎然的露台上占了个好位置。甜点我去了当地著名的McConnell's冰淇淋店，这家店位于State Street靠近E. De La Guerra Street的地方。之后，我入住Leta Santa Barbara Goleta酒店，这是一家高档汽车旅馆，配有游泳池和唱片店，隶属于希尔顿集团。

在圣巴巴拉港，达特咖啡馆的户外座位区位于城市海事博物馆和一座亮橙色的、建于20世纪60年代的普里西玛潜水钟之间。根据清晨顾客的谈话，许多人前一晚都睡在船上。

之后，在退房前，我在泳池里泡了个澡，感觉凉爽极了。当天的主题元素是水。

诺霍基瀑布公园位于101号公路旁一条连接圣巴巴拉和圣路易斯奥比斯波的小路上，但路边没有指示牌。沿着一条清澈的小溪，一条短而宜人的步道将徒步者引至80英尺高的嶙峋瀑布脚下。由于北部沿海地区发生火灾，当地气候干燥，瀑布水量并不充沛，但我可以轻松地捧起瀑布，畅饮一番。

在圣路易斯奥比斯波（San Luis Obispo，当地人简称SLO，发音为“slow”）大学城郊外，坐落着风景如画的蒙塔纳德奥罗州立公园（Montaña de Oro）。驱车前往悬崖步道的起点，桉树的清香逐渐被海风取代。公园的名字“​​蒙塔纳德奥罗”源于春天山坡上盛开的野生芥菜和加州罂粟，但我更喜欢碧蓝的海水和拍打着岩石峭壁的浪花。

公园里的斯普纳湾（Spooner's Cove）以曾在此居住的一个家族命名，是另一个聚会场所。一群青少年越野跑者在沙滩外冰冷的海水中游泳降温。我只让脚在细小的波浪里泡了泡，直到麻木。

在附近的洛斯奥索斯和贝伍德这对悠闲的双子镇里，甜泉自然保护区环绕着莫罗湾。保护区的其他“访客”包括海湾龟、蓝鹭和一只雪白的白鹭，皮划艇爱好者在它们身后划行于海湾之中。这里也是一个天然的休憩场所，位于拥有宽敞露台的休闲场所Beerwood和以木质墙壁装饰的简陋酒吧Niffy's Merrimaker（当地人称之为“婚姻破坏者”）之间。

但最佳观景点是圣路易斯奥比斯波酒店的屋顶酒吧，在那里我看着夕阳西下，余晖洒在环绕小镇的当地火山（现已变成山脉）上。

圣路易斯奥比斯波原加州州立理工大学校园赋予了这座城市青春活力。周五晚上，在外观呈土坯风格的圣路易斯奥比斯波·德·托洛萨教堂前的小公园里，挤满了各个年龄段的人们，他们都在聆听现场音乐。

这座建于1772年的传教站是加利福尼亚州21座传教站之一。连接这些传教站（以及圣地亚哥和蒙特雷之间的城镇）的道路被称为皇家大道（El Camino Real）。这里也是约翰斯顿·麦卡利笔下传奇英雄佐罗的冒险故事发生地，佐罗的故事从1919年开始被改编成电影和小说。如今，皇家大道的大部分路段已成为101号公路，与1号公路平行，有时甚至重合。

圣路易斯奥比斯波 (SLO) 的其他建筑亮点还包括参观华丽炫目的麦当娜酒店 (Madonna Inn)，这家酒店兼餐厅风格酷似迪士尼乐园。沿 101 号公路向北三英里，即可看到废弃的里程碑汽车旅馆 (Milestone Mo-Tel) 的招牌和主楼。这家美国第一家汽车旅馆于 1925 年开业，1991 年关闭。

德鲁·凯利/《纽约时报》/Redux

在加州理工大学，有一个名为“实验实践实验室”的独特公共建筑公园，你可以徒步穿梭于一个个充满想象力的学生作品之间，翻山越岭。

镇上最受欢迎的三明治店，当之无愧地是高街市场和熟食店的总部。我在那里的绿瓶酒吧和啤酒花园里消磨时光，度过了一个热闹的等待小时。当时，饥肠辘辘的顾客们排着长队，我终于等到了我心心念念的完美素食汉堡。

我的下一站是卡尤科斯，这是另一个热门的海滨小镇，也有一座码头，从这里可以欣赏到标志性的莫罗岩，它同样伸入大海。我在Schooners酒吧楼上颇受欢迎的吧台边找到了一个高脚凳，海风从敞开的窗户吹进来。

然后我前往坎布里亚和圣西蒙镇，在那里我开始重走我过去在加州公路旅行的路线，这在很大程度上表明，在过去的 25 年里，该地区几乎没有什么变化。

皮耶德拉斯布兰卡斯象海豹栖息地（位于圣西蒙以北7英里处）依然栖息着许多体型庞大、叫声悦耳的海豹。一位志愿者讲解员解释说，那里茂盛的海带保护它们免受鲨鱼的袭击。他还提到，一月份海滩上的实时摄像头画面非常火热。

二十五年前，我也曾参观过圣西蒙的赫斯特城堡，这座城堡是传媒大亨威廉·伦道夫·赫斯特的私人宅邸，如今他更为人所知的是奥逊·威尔斯在电影《公民凯恩》中对他的虚构刻画。城堡建筑精美绝伦，尽管略显奢华，尤其是在这片尚未开发的海岸地区，更显得格外引人注目——然而，令我惊讶的是，停车场竟然停满了车。诚然，赫斯特曾像埃隆·马斯克那样家喻户晓，但他已经去世75年了。幸运的是，为了所有游客，城堡后来被捐赠给了州政府，得以保存至今。

那天我到达的最北端是令人惊叹的拉格德角（Ragged Point），它高达150英尺，位于圣西蒙以北15英里处。一条崎岖的小径通往山脚下，那里岩石嶙峋，波涛汹涌。山顶上，拉格德角旅馆（Ragged Point Inn）旁，矗立着一座名为“通往大苏尔之门”（Portal to Big Sur）的木制环形雕塑，透过它，你可以远眺数英里之外的景色——而这些景色在此次旅程中是无法到达的。

在1号公路拉格德角以北大约一英里处，一块道路封闭的标志牌和后面的警车让我掉头。在我到访前的几周和几天里，海岸附近的两处失控山火已经造成了人员疏散和商家停业。就在几天前，我接到电话，取消了我在大苏尔豪华露营地Treebones预订的蒙古包。于是，我折返回了圣西蒙旅馆。旅馆干净舒适，但既没有赫斯特城堡，也没有Treebones的蒙古包。

由于太平洋海岸公路（PCH）大约30英里路段封闭，我不得不向南行驶，然后转入101号公路向北，绕过火灾区，才能返回海岸，最终抵达大苏尔。这是一条190英里的反向“C”形绕行路线。对我来说，这简直就是一条“火环”。

但首先，我把车停在坎布里亚小镇中心，这条街风景如画，我打算在那里吃奥拉利莓派当早餐。林恩餐厅（Linn's）名不虚传，高高的墙上挂满了复古自行车。我点的那块派皮酥脆，馅料浓郁，味道介于蓝莓和黑莓之间，简直是绝配。林恩餐厅也用这种莓果做泡芙、松饼、奶昔和茶，但我咖啡杯上印着他们的标语：“派才是我们的初心”。

沿着101号公路绕道而行，我欣赏着远处的群山和山间的农田。工人们正在采摘蔬菜或酿酒葡萄，这让我想起了约翰·斯坦贝克的《愤怒的葡萄》，为了这次加州之旅，我重读了两本书，其中一本就是《愤怒的葡萄》。正如斯坦贝克在书中写道的，我“去加州其实是为了回家”，意思是说，这是那种你去加州旅行的目的，是为了回家后跟人炫耀一番。炫耀。

回到海岸后，我决定对蒙特雷和后来的圣克鲁斯稍作停留。虽然它们各有历史、魅力和景点（前者拥有世界级水族馆，后者则因1987年的电影《捉鬼小精灵》而闻名），但我更倾向于小镇风光和壮丽的自然风光。

这次旅行中，我体验了许多美丽的徒步路线，其中最令人叹为观止的要数洛博斯角州立自然保护区了。它位于卡梅尔小镇以南不到4英里处，这座小镇曾是克林特·伊斯特伍德担任市长的地方，充满魅力。柏树林步道两侧的柏树构成了一幅美丽的画卷，鹈鹕在与视线齐平的高度列队飞翔，下方是清澈碧绿的海水拍打着嶙峋的海堤。我听到每个人在沿着步道走到北端时，都会发出“哇！”或“哦！”之类的惊叹声。

又是一个阳光灿烂的日子，没有看到任何烟雾，但一些小路和州立公园都因紧急车辆通行而封闭。进入大苏尔地区时，我看到了一些手写的感谢消防员的标语。

刚驶过经常被拍照的比克斯比大桥，一名加州公路巡警就给那些在 1 号公路边不安全停车，只为与这座近百年历史的大桥自拍的人开罚单。

在旅行前重读了杰克·凯鲁亚克的《大苏尔》之后，我感到很失望，因为山火威胁，我无法沿着狭窄的海岸公路前往比克斯比峡谷（书中称为拉顿峡谷）。我原本想找到这位作家曾经居住并描写的那个地方——他朋友、诗人劳伦斯·费林盖蒂的小屋。

我第一次听说传奇餐厅尼彭特（Nepenthe）是在1962年出版的《大苏尔》（Big Sur）一书中，它是海岸线上最著名的餐厅。六十四年过去了，它依然如凯鲁亚克在书中描述的那样：“一家美丽的悬崖餐厅，拥有宽敞的户外露台，提供一流的食物、优秀的侍者和管理人员、美味的饮品、棋桌、椅子和桌子，供人们在阳光下静静欣赏壮丽的海岸线。”他还发挥了一些想象力，将他们的招牌三明治“安布罗西亚汉堡”（Ambrosia burgers）戏称为“天堂汉堡”（Heavenburgers）。

根据菜单介绍，Nepenthe（猪笼草）源自希腊语，意为“无忧无虑”，是一种古埃及的致幻药物。在劳动节当天，日落时分，我坐在离海面808英尺高的露台上，享用了这顿无忧无虑的晚餐。服务员告诉我，往年这个节日是他们最忙的时候，通常要等三个小时（他们不接受预订）。但我并非运气好，而是坚持不懈。由于大苏尔的大部分地区都已关闭，从南部也无法进入，而且距离强制撤离结束也只有几天时间，许多游客都以为这家餐厅已经关门了——尽管Nepenthe的网站一直保持更新。

我点了一份素食版的安布罗西亚汉堡，还从琳琅满目的酒单中选了一款清爽的当地阿尔巴利诺葡萄酒，酒单上有很多选择。夕阳西下，海面波光粼粼，一只鹿慢悠悠地走过，身后跟着它略显胆怯的小鹿。尼彭特餐厅的红木内饰也十分精美，巨大的圆形壁炉和吧台相得益彰。

当晚我入住历史悠久的迪特延大苏尔旅馆，距离尼彭西不到一英里。但在安顿下来之前，我戴上头灯，沿着旅馆后面的小路，沿着一条小溪和多层红杉树徒步旅行。

道路蜿蜒而回，展现出开阔的海岸线景色，繁星点点，仿佛我已许久未见如此景象。银河密布，卫星清晰可见，明亮的金星光芒四射，盖过了一切。耳边只有蟋蟀的鸣叫和远处海浪拍岸的声音。又是一个完美的瞬间。

迪特延大苏尔旅馆保留着古朴的历史风貌。房间没有钥匙，手机信号也没有，更别提无线网络了。旅馆的一大特色是每间客房里都摆放着手写的留言簿（他们称之为日记）。

我在小房间里熬夜看书。房间里贴满了小传单、诗歌、感恩的话语和图画（尤其是那些可爱的猫咪的图画）。有个小孩用好几页纸开始写一本图画小说。人们来这里度蜜月、庆祝周年纪念日、过生日，或者只是为了逃离现实世界（没有网络也帮了大忙）。

迪特延旅馆已被列入国家史迹名录，是少数几家在老卡梅尔-圣西蒙公路（后来成为1号公路的第一段）上接待早期旅行者的旅馆之一。我在那里睡得很香，黑暗而安静，这在今天的任何住宿环境中都很少见。

即使您不住在旅馆，也可以尝试预订旅馆餐厅的晚餐或早餐。该餐厅最初是挪威人赫尔穆特·迪特延 (Helmuth Deetjen) 在 20 世纪 30 年代末用当地红杉木和从蒙特雷著名的罐头厂街（因斯坦贝克的另一部小说而永垂不朽）回收的材料建造的谷仓。

杰森·亨利/《纽约时报》/Redux

那天早上，驱车北上途中能见度很低，到处都是野火产生的烟雾。我不得不放弃参观亨利·米勒纪念图书馆的小屋和安德鲁·莫莱拉州立公园（河海交汇处），因为这两个地方都关闭了。

当我到达蒙特雷时，天空又放晴了。而且我开得很快，因为1号公路在通往圣克鲁斯的路上会暂时变成高速公路。

在即将离开充满活力的大学城圣克鲁斯之际，我在卡皮托拉的Shadowbrook餐厅享用了一顿精致的午餐。这座海滨小镇拥有色彩鲜艳的房屋、一座古老的铁路桥，以及一条沿河而建、点缀着民居和小商店的河流。Shadowbrook的网站上写着“重点不在于缆车”，你可以乘坐缆车前往河畔露台，但实际上，缆车的确是这家餐厅的亮点之一。

太平洋海岸公路再次缩减为两车道，海岸线如同克里斯托弗·诺兰的电影《盗梦空间》中描绘的地狱边境的巨型沙堡悬崖。

这次旅行中，我很少这么着急，所以这次我匆匆忙忙地去办理入住手续，这是我的最后一个住处：一家位于佩斯卡德罗（Pescadero）一座名为鸽子角（Pigeon Point）的历史悠久的灯塔内的青年旅舍。

这座115英尺高的灯塔建于1872年，在太平洋海岸公路（PCH）建成之前，它是为了保障蒙特雷和旧金山之间旅行者的安全而建。灯塔本身正在修复中，但它设有一个小型博物馆、礼品店和一家青年旅舍，你可以在那里预订私人房间，或者像我一样，只需40美元就能预订多人间的床位。所有人都可以使用公共厨房、客厅和无线网络。虽然我的房间里有六个上下铺，但我唯一的室友是一位来自瑞士的安静男士，他也正从洛杉矶前往旧金山，不过他是骑自行车。他也不得不绕道避开火灾。

我迫不及待地想尽早办理入住，因为那时也可以预订私人户外悬崖边热水浴缸（30分钟10美元）。我知道自己想要什么时候泡。

Tayfun Coskun/阿纳多卢/盖蒂图片社

在附近的卡斯卡德餐厅吃晚饭时，我想到自己走了这么远的路，感觉远远超过了两箱油能到的距离。穿行于该州最著名的几个城市之间的过渡地带，感觉就像环游了一个小国。

回到灯塔，离日落只有几分钟了，我走到他们的小露台上，那里除了一个热水浴缸和180度的悬崖和海洋景观之外，几乎什么都没有。一群鹈鹕从几英尺外飞过，海浪在脚下翻腾，我缓缓地躺下，太阳也正好落入红黄色的地平线上。这真是一个美妙绝伦的结尾，为我梦寐以求的完美加州海岸公路之旅画上了句号。