You know you've crossed the "border" into California when you get stopped at an agricultural checkpoint: carrots are OK, sweet corn can't continue the trip... Sometimes the decisions seem quite arbitrary, as inspectors try to protect the Californian 36 billion USD agriculture sector from pests. The state's governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, is in trouble: more than leaving behind the sweet corn, we're taken aback by raised campsite fees and gas prices: the "governator" is definitely in need of cash!
But up here in Northern California, money is not everything. Onthe contrary, the general atmosphere is very relaxed, as witnessed in tiny Arcata. People hang out in the morning with their lattes, trying to overcome their hang-overs... "What?!?" screems the guy next to us in disbelief. "You got a job?? You're going to work?? Is that what you want to do with your life?!". Unable to repress our laughter, we're now assured to have reached California!
The vegetation is peculiar as well: normal pine trees have given way to gigantic redwoods, of the sequoia family. The 300ft tall trees covered most of this region in 1800, today they need to be preserved in national parks as reminders of the past. The "redwood rush" followed closely upon the gold rush and was only stopped in the 1920s by establishing the parks along the coast.
We feel like Lilliputians in the company of these ancient giants in our Redwood National Park campsite. Even Archie looks like a toy car travelling down the "Avenue of the Giants", off Route 101.
The Avenue brings us to tiny Leggett where world famous Route number 1 starts. Any driver wanting to perfect their curve technique is in the right place on this stretch of winding and narrow road down to the Pacific coast. Unfortunately we descend into a thick fog that hides most of the costline that afternoon.
After another day in the fog, we veer inland, briefly abandoning highway 1, towards the Sonoma and Napa valleys. After a short mile, the sun reappears, immediately warming our moods.
We're really lucky that evening, finding a spot in the Sugarloaf Ridge Park, the only campground in the wine region. Surprise, surprise, a very yellow Defender is parked nearby: Greg, Emma and "Bee" are similarly on an extended overland trip. A couple of Sonoman bottles later, we have exchanged a lot of good stories around the campfire!
The day after the night before, we set off to check out the wineries of the "valley of the Moon" (translation of Sonoma valley), limiting ourselves mostly to admiring the architecture and landscaping and refraining from tasting in the very hot atmosphere. We take a few bottles with us for later consumption.
Spanish and Mexican influences become increasingly apparent on our way south. In San Francisco, we get to know the true meaning of Mexican hospitability. After a meeting with people of the Northern California Land-Rover Club at "Mexxis", run by brothers Enrique and Carlos, Carlos insists on hosting us in his home.
We spend a lovely couple of days in and around San Francisco before continuing further south along Route 1.
It's quite surprising that the 140 km stretch of Route 1 from Carmel to Big Sur and Cumbria has remained so untouched. No McDonald's, no resorts bar the view on the coastline on this very sunny day. The beaches look alluring, but cold water restricts users to kite-surfers.
This part of Highway 1 is used primarily by tourists who don't seem to mind our snail's pace. Cruising along at a leasurely 30 mph, we take two days to reach Pismo Beach. We drive Archie on the beach and even camp there overnight. It's quite a fantastic experience to fall asleep (in your comfy bed) a few feet from the ocean!
It's the week-end, and the early morning brings a flood of families with their "toys": quads of every size start racing the beach and sand dunes! Before fleeing towards Santa Barbara, we spend a few hours with Archie in the dunes, getting duly stuck in the fine sand, and very proudly extracting ourselves with the sandladders!
Santa Barbara is a charming little town, with even modern buildings kept in colonial style. Our appointment with Paula in Laguna Beach, south of LA, makes us leave this enclave of the bold and beautiful.
The hills north of LA are on fire, impressive smoke columns can be seen from the beaches.
We pass through Beverly Hills and Hollywood, then zip through the greater LA on one of the 14-lane urban thoroughfares.
Before crossing the border into Mexico, we're spending a couple of relaxing days in Laguna Beach, where the Route 1 merges into the Pacific Coast Highway or simply PCH. Laguna Beach has preserved the atmosphere of it's artsy past despite recent developments catering mostly to the bold & beautiful of "OC", Orange County.
After three exciting months in Canada and the US, our expiring visas are now urging us towards the Mexican border for our onward journey to Latin America!
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