Seals and sea birds woke us up in time for our early morning massage. We are both knotty from riding, so it seemed like the best thing to do - and it was.
Morro Bay is such a cool place. It's small town Pacific Coast without the crowds and the rich and famous. I could live here easily.
Leaving from complete relaxation, we decided to head south and ride the PCH to L.A. Route 1 intertwines with 101, so there was highway involved.
But country roads were an education before the ocean met us again. Riding through this black soil fertile farmland, thousands of acres of single crops passed by us. Strawberry fields forever. Grape that spread over hills and valleys in infinitesimal rows. Lettuce from seedlings to harvest played out before us for miles. As farmers, this was a tourist attraction!
Then route 1 turned to 101 and we were back on the highway. Southern California presented itself in stereotypes - Palm trees, Taco Bell architecture and increasingly dense traffic. The views of the cerulean Pacific crashed into view showing wide curving beaches cluttered with RV's and surfers. Pismo Beach was a gaudy combination of shops and more RV Parks than I have ever seen in one place.
We rode on, back and forth on the highway and the ocean until we were too close to L.A. for comfort. Lanes changed from 3 to 4 and it was stop and go. About face!
Cities and deserts are anathema to us. Like vampires to garlic, we avoid them. So our trip to the southern beaches consisted of Santa Barbara and Pismo before we realized that as romantic as southern California sounds, it's not for us. Back up the highway toward "home". A friend we met told us to try the Montana Oro - right out of Morro. So on the way back, we took it.
This was the ride along the coast we had been looking for all day. Deep curves leaned us up the cliff to overlook crashing waves on beaches and carved caves. As Jules said, we could have ridden this road back and forth all day and it would have been better than the highway.
After today, we are heading home. A psychological and emotional turning point that will never leave our glass half empty. There is still Colorado and who knows what random road will catch our fancy. Our final leg may be from Maine or Florida. There's still so much to do!
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