i had planned to skip this road, this time. i was a passenger once, nearly fifteen years ago, down about ten hours of this coast, on this highway.

i had planned to miss it because i didn’t want to deal with the hassle. i remembered the traffic and the intensity of the driver’s stress at not be able to enjoy the views. i also remembered the views, and know myself too well not to then consider my safety as a driver.

Fast forward three months and i have done winding roads. i have learned to accomplish mountains, canyons, narrow passes, high altitudes, steep grades up and down, turn outs, in the dark, against the sunset… i have Done winding roads.

After much encouragement, i decided to visit Big Sur. i had completely forgotten my former reluctance about Highway 1. i arrived there fresh from Yosemite, to and from which one can only travel along stunning—currently especially wet and green—mountain twists and turns. i was primed for the coastal cliffs.

Turns out i can now handle my vehicle so well it feels like she was made for these roads. i drove south then north then south again, happily cruising, knowing the deep blue ocean would be there often. Green is everywhere else, under a sweet blue sky. Giant birds—gulls, hawks, cormorants, ravens, vultures—soar and spin in ocean wind above unearthly waves that crash over boulders, into cliffs. Everywhere that’s not water, flowers are eagerly in bloom on green and rocky hills. Cows wander huge fields, surrounded by glorious scenery. Cars speed through all of this, over curves and around bends, as if paced for racing.

And everyone pulls over along the way at sunset. If not, you’d miss the sounds of frogs.