Salt, Sand and Surf

"I think this weather is ours for all day," said Andy as we drove back to Point Lobos State Reserve in the early morning. "Even if you hadn't suggested returning, I thought about coming back here to walk more of the park."

Again we left the car by the highway, California #1, and walked the mile in. "Free if you walk," the guard had told us yesterday. The admission sign said, "Entrance fee $10, Seniors 62 and over $9." Today we followed South Shore Trail through Monterey pine groves to Bird Island Trail to Seal Point Trail and back to the entry on the road, probably four miles, but what a fascinating three hours!

Fog hugged the hilltops; it concealed just about everything inland above 300 feet. Dressed for the 50 degree chill, we meandered up and down along the trail, watching the geology change, listening to the seals bark in the distance, smelling sage as it dried and Pacific Coast pine trees and salty seaweed from the shore. Poison oak grew on both sides in many spots. "I pity the person who can't identify it," said Andy. "I've heard the rash can be worse than poison ivy."

Waves washed the black sand beach at Hidden Cove. "This is volcanic," said Andy, as we passed. "It's amazing how different the geology of the coves can be."

One cove had sandstone cliffs; we could even see layers in it like waves.

"And we passed areas that look like conglomerate," I reminded him, "with the small pebbles of all sizes and colors cemented together."

At Otter Cove as many as six or eight otters played in the waves--gliding belly up, rolling and spinning under the water and chasing each other through the incoming surf. We watched them from every side of the horseshoe cove.

Our next stop was Monarch Grove Sanctuary in Pacific Grove, a micro-climate for monarchs migrating south. An independent photographer on site pointed out all the "brown leaves unfolding" as temperatures rose to 55 degrees and the insects warmed to life.

After parking downtown in Monterey, we took our own walking tour. With several wrong turns, Andy found Presidio Chapel, the historic mission church built in 1770. I read the sign at the back: "Under this oak tree, (now preserved inside the heritage museum) Junipero Serra claimed California for Spain." A rock marked the spot.
The canneries of Cannery Row disappeared long ago when the fishing industry collapsed in 1950, even though over-fishing was evident in the 1930's, but Cannery Row is a memory, preserved by Steinbeck in the novel of the same name and by Steinbeck's friend Ed Ricketts, a marine biologist who appears as Doc in some Steinbeck novels. We followed a "beach access" sign through an alley between buildings. There we found "Ed Ricketts' backyard." The ocean washed in between pilings and foundations with cement boxes where Ricketts stored his marine samples. For me, it was history and literature come to life.

Just as we headed away from the historic touristy block, we heard squeals from the water. "Let's go see," I coaxed. A large group of teenagers had gathered on the beach. All tourists themselves, they cheered and dared five of their own into the water. Two girls and three boys in bathing suits waded, splashed and swam neck deep in the Pacific near Ed Ricketts' backyard. Andy and I shivered. We both were dressed in sweatshirts and jackets.

It took a third trip back to Point Pinos to get beyond the gate at the Lighthouse, open 1:00 to 4:00 p.m. Thursday through Monday, but we walked the grounds and snapped pictures of the landmark.
As the sun dropped closer to the horizon after 4 p.m., residents of Carmel-by-the-Sea walked their dogs. We joined them for an hour, strolling the sidewalk one direction and admiring the landscaped homes, coming back on the sand the other way and greeting friendly canines as they chased rubber balls. Sandpipers and sea gulls inspected the water's edge for pickings in the foam. No wonder Ed Ricketts wandered for hours along this coastline. No wonder it's a national treasure.