Fiction/Humor Memoir

Cruising the Coast

Given that we live in the county that occupies the bottom of California, just above the Mexican border at Tijuana, we find ourselves regularly heading north and debating the best way to do that. For reasons I can guess at, but cannot really explain, we do not head south into Mexico…ever. We used to go down to Cabo San Lucas with some regularity and I used to visit the west coast of Mexico mainland with some regularity. But since we have moved out to this hilltop five years ago, we have not been inclined in the slightest to head south into the Baja. That has just reinforced the need to figure out the best ways to head north.

To begin with, let’s just get one thing out of the way. Traffic in what I call the L.A. Basin is horrible any time of the day or night on any day of the week during any month of the year. The one exception I have seen was in the early days of the Pandemic when we were all in lockdown. I recall that we had to drive through L.A. one time and were shocked at the dystopic quiet of the freeways while everyone was hunkering down at home, trying not to breathe. There are basically five paths north through California, but thanks to a combination of the Mojave Desert (including Death Valley) and the mountain ranges that surround and define the L.A. Basin (The Angeles Crest, the San Bernardinos and the San Jacintos), all five of these paths flow directly through Los Angeles and it’s traffic jumbles. Lately we have been picking up Gary & Oswaldo in West Hollywood as we head north. As congested and suboptimal as it may seem to get that deep into the belly of the L.A. beast (just northwest of downtown), it really isn’t since we have to pass through that vortex anyway.

The five paths north should be named for ease of reference. Starting from east to west, there is Old Route 395 (which runs a mile from our hilltop) that goes up on the eastern side of the massive Sierra Nevada Range and runs all the way north to Canada in eastern Washington state. Then there is Route 99 that runs through the breadbasket of America by staying on the west side of the Sierra Nevadas and hitting all the cities of the San Joaquin Valley, the most productive farming land in the country. The main artery through the middle of the state is Rt. 5 that hits all the biggest cities on the West Coast from Seattle all the way down through San Diego and ends at the border in Tijuana. North of L.A., Rt.5 goes up the middle of the state, but south of L.A. the 5 goes along the coast. Then there is Rt.101, which only starts in L.A. and heads north to Seattle along the coast, but is not dogged about hugging every inch of coastline and takes what I call the coastal route of least resistance. And last, but certainly not least is the appropriately called Rt.1, which does, indeed, doggedly hug the west coast hitting every coastal beach town from Tijuana up through the town of Leggett in the midst of the Redwood Forrests. It should be noted that Rt.1 has lately been put out of commission for long stretches of time due to parts of the Big Sur coastline giving way to the Pacific Ocean, taking parts of Rt.1 with it.

We are always inclined to try to take Rt.1 north to enjoy the views of the ocean along the way, but there is a price to be paid for that. I think that works fine when you are south of L.A., but once you get to L.A., Rt.1 takes on its persona as the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway). The stretch of the PCH from Santa Monica to Point Magu is a particularly schizophrenic path since it always seems so special with its $10 million shacks backing right onto the roadway and its rag-tag clam bars that make you feel like its 1955 all over again. This is where Malibu sits with all its A-List appeal and our collective dreams about the best of the good life in America. As we marvel at the juxtapositioning of wealth and ticky-tacky, we forever wonder where Barbara Streisand lives her best life.

This trip north which we are in the midst of right now, it made more sense to take Rt.101 from the middle of L.A. up to West Hollywood and then north through the San Fernando Valley and Ventura County and up into Santa Barbara. The topography of California is constantly forcing a northbound traveler to make choices. It is a rugged coast with lots of parts where the mountains come right down to the ocean. One of the skinniest pieces of land between mountains and coast is at Santa Barbara. It forces the town to not grow beyond its geographical limits, making it one of the most expensive and desirable places along the coast. Coming up we stayed on Rt. 101 all the way past Santa Barbara and then north to Buellton. We will go back tomorrow on Rt. 154 across the ridge line of Santa Ynez peak, bypassing much of Santa Barbara. Then back on Rt. 101 to West Hollywood and then beeline it home by whatever the car GPS tells me to take (sometimes Rt.5 along the coast and sometimes down the less pretty Rt.15, which takes us right to the base of our hilltop.

As you may have heard, Californians always talk about their freeway directions. Can you imagine anything quite so boring? But I think I get it now. It’s all because of the damn L. A. Basin. If this vortex of all the California routes wasn’t as much of a traffic black hole that it is, we might not be quite so fixated on our directions. As it is, unless we don’t mind wasting 2-4 hours staring at Jersey barriers and not caring about the state’s beautiful scenery, then we wouldn’t focus so much on which freeway to take when and where.

I don’t know when we will next drive north snd once again contemplate the cost/benefit of cruising the coast. What I know for sure is that the problem of the L.A. Basin black hole will not go away. Like all black holes it will just keep feeding on itself and making all of our lives miserable unless we get smart and just fly north. In fact, we will be flying up to San Francisco in a few weeks for just that reason. Oh well, so much for cruising the coast.

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