Day 5 – To San Luis Obispo

This charming resort, abuzz with happy people, is clearly a popular place. There’s a large extended family taking up three or four nearby cabins. A diverse group of twenty-somethings down the way are kicking off a weekend getaway. Children and strollers and bikes and beach towels abound.

El Capitán Canyon

Late last night, as we were getting ready for bed, we heard a racket outside our door, and discovered that a pack of little boys had waylayed a racoon in the tree next to our picnic table. They aimed their flashlight right at his little whiskery face, and he peered back like he was enjoying the attention, taunting them from his safe perch. 

 

This morning, we woke up to the chirp and chatter of those same little kids, and dozens of others, running around this campground at 7 a.m. while their weary parents tried to squeeze in a few more minutes of shut-eye. Later, I watched the couple next door shuffling around, trying to figure out how to make pancakes over the fire pit while their three young boys, who had been awake for hours by that point, hollered at them to “Push me on the swings!” … “Watch me on the bike!” … “Wipe off the wet slide!” … and then wondered, “When is breakfast going to be ready!?” Heh. I remember those days. 

 

The place really is charming. I was especially captivated by the sweet aroma of wood fires and mesquite charcoal wafting in the dry southern California air. Absolutely intoxicating.

 

Back on the road, we drove about an hour to Jalama Beach County Park, south of Lompoc. We were in the “elbow” of California -- where the mostly north-south orientation of the northern California coast turns and slides east toward Santa Barbara and Los Angeles. The PCH jags inland at that corner, cutting across ranch land and oak forests, and for 70 miles there’s no Pacific Coast to be seen at all. To get to the beach, we had to turn off Highway 1 onto narrow Jalama Road, and wind south for almost 15 miles – nearly 45 minutes in the car -- up and down through the canyons and arroyos of the Santa Ynez mountains, all the way to the ocean. In fact, we read that Jalama Beach is the farthest from the Pacific Coast Highway of all California public beaches.

 

So when we crested the last hill, we expected to see a secluded, windswept beach. Instead, we found a hive of activity: a bustling county campground with more than 100 RV, trailer and tent sites, seven small cabins, and a general store and grill.

 

There was plenty of room on the wide beach, though, and we staked out our own spot, soaked up the sun and tossed a Frisbee around until we got hungry. Then, we popped in to the Jalama Beach Store, “Home of the Famous Jalama Hamburger,” for lunch. (Pronounced “HA-lama.”)

 

What is it that makes the Jalama Burger so wonderful? Perhaps it is the perfectly toasted bun. Keith thinks it is the fluffy cushion of delicately shredded lettuce, and the placement of the beef patty on top of it, so that your taste buds sink right into the burger first. I think it’s the setting, though. It just gets me all the way together. 

After we left the beach, it was another 40-ish minutes just to get back onto the main highway. We didn’t pull into San Luis Obispo until almost 4 p.m. We netted less than 100 miles on the PCH today, but it still felt like we spent the better part of the day in the car. Sigh.

 

We’re staying tonight at the Madonna Inn, a Highway 101 landmark since 1958. The hotel is like a fairy tale doused with a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, with more than 100 extravagantly themed rooms -- like the Love Nest, Safari Room, Swiss Chalet and Caveman Suite -- spread over three buildings. There's also a popular steakhouse, café and bar decorated top to bottom in shades of bubble-gum pink, and a bakery known for its poufy pink confections. Depending on your personality it’s the perfect stop for a tacky photo-op, or for a dream wedding, or both; the place was crawling with folks dolled up in gowns and tuxes.

Keith and I are staying in the Rock Bottom room; the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and even the bathroom sink are stone. It feels like a cave – or a medieval dungeon. The kids are in a different building, in the Showboat room, which is much more conventional. 

This is the BATHROOM SINK

We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing under pink umbrellas by the pool. 

 

As we pulled into the Madonna Inn parking lot earlier this afternoon, Keith spotted an actual, working drive-in movie theater across the highway. So, rather than wrestle all the well-dressed hotel guests for a table at the Madonna Inn Steakhouse, we drove down the street to the Sunset Drive-In, grabbed pizza and popcorn at the snack bar, popped the middle-row seats out of the van and enjoyed opening night of “Black Widow.”

This is what it’s all about!

 

It’s late, and we just got back to the hotel. All the wedding guests have spilled out of the restaurants and banquet areas and are whooping it up in the parking lots and hallways. But Keith and I can hardly hear a peep, buried snug and sound in our cozy little dugout. 

Good night!