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Shortly after our arrival into San Francisco, I unceremoniously passed out in the arm chair at our hosts’ apartment. So, taking artistic license with time, today’s post comes to you from the future!

We got an early start in Paso Robles this morning. Route 46 back to Highway 1 started out very arid. Except for the vineyards and other agricultural fields, everything was looked pretty drought-stricken. Over the next half-hour, though, the surroundings turned greener, trees started taking different shapes, and the air filled of water and salt, and the fog cleared. An unmistakable, unforgettable indication of arriving at the beach!

Since this is apparently a thing we do now…

The 46 dead-ends into the PCH. As George so succinctly put it: we put the water on the left, and headed up toward Big Sur. The drive was absolutely astounding in every way!

Weaving through Big Sur was tremendously exciting. It must be the most beautiful and exciting road in the country. We did have quite a bit of trouble with tourists driving twenty to thirty miles-per-hour below the posted speeds, though. Curiously, it was always a convertible Ford Mustang leading the line of frustrated motorists. No less than five times were we stuck behind a Mustang who hated fun. If you drive a convertible Mustang, you are a horrible person; please exit left into the ocean.

If the drive from LA to Malibu was a crash course in engine braking, today was a master class, under the harsh tutelage of critical necessity. But truly, that was the most fun I’ve had in a car, maybe ever. I do love my truck.

At the north end of Big Sur, we stopped at the Nepenthe Restaurant for lunch. Mesmerized by the stunning brilliance of our surroundings, our quick stop turned into an hour or so of sitting on the porch just staring at where we were.

But we wanted time for Monterey, so we tore ourselves away from the observation deck and got back in the cars. As we pulled into the city, I was feeling good about how well I managed on a standard transmission through Big Sur on my fourth day to own one. I was swiftly punished for my hubris with a million uphill starts.

We stopped just outside the Cannery District and went into the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It was definitely the coolest aquarium I’ve ever seen. The tanks were stupefyingly massive with amazing mixes of animals in each. We got to see the feeding in the Sea Otter exhibit and in the Kelp Forest.

On the way out of town, we stopped for dinner at the Beach Cafe, in the third floor of Unscripted Monterey, a beachside motel that used to be a Best Western. It was a delightful discovery by George, a completely empty restaurant with great food and a killer sunset.

From there, the 1 up to San Francisco was a little more challenging. None of us have great headlights, and the sea air creates an impenetrable grime on our windshields that illuminates opaquely when hit with someone else’s headlights. In the remaining hour and a half of driving, we stopped three separate times to window-wash. And weirdly, the truck has started being a little intolerant of idling while I Windex. I don’t know why it’s running rough, but it is odd.

Finally, we careened down the winding expressways into San Francisco. With the help of our host, we found a parking garage for the night. It’s Valet Only, none of the attendants spoke particularly good English or Spanish, and I had to explain how to find reverse on my four-speed. I didn’t add that it’s become very difficult to start, and that it will not idle. So if we still have cars in the morning, I’ll be impressed.