Muir Beach

Driving There

Saturday afternoon. Set out to do a bit of driving up Highway 1. Filled up the gas tank, got a squirt bottle of water, and had the sunglasses in the glove compartment in case there was a sudden need to look cool.

For the first 30 - 40 minutes, I had to work at keeping my mind on driving, and not getting lost in thought about other things. The drive started feeling more comfortable after that, and I was able to enjoy some of the surrounding scenery - the beaches, the rocky shores, and the small mountains near the ocean. It'd been a few weeks since I'd been out near the ocean; it was nice to remember what it feels like.


This was already as far as I'd driven at one time in the last 12 years, and there was quite a ways to go. About halfway up there, the drive started getting more interesting. The road got much more narrow and winding, and at times closer to cliff edges. I felt pretty comfortable though, the previous 50 miles were a good warm-up.

And then, after having driven on an uncrowded, single-lane highway almost the entire way so far, all of a sudden the road dumped right onto a 6- or 7-lane freeway, with waves of traffic zooming along at a frantic pace. It was a bit overwhelming at first, like walking along on a street and all of a sudden a herd of buffalos come charging along behind you.

Fortunately, after a few miles it became a 3-lane highway, which was a little less stressful. I got into the middle lane and stayed there, hoping to avoid the merging traffic, and just tried to keep myself going along, concentrating on the lane I was driving in, and getting a little drink of water every now and then.


After another few more miles, I could see some of the distinctive pastel houses and buildings of San Francisco up ahead. The highway remained 3 lanes, but the next 5 miles involved going through about 30 stoplights; as soon as you go through one intersection you're almost at the next one. The lanes were pretty narrow, so it was a tight squeeze at times.

A sign at one of the intersections said, "Enforced by Photo. Minimum $270 fine." If you had really, really bad luck going through the intersections right as they turn red, and you went through the city in both directions, could you wind up with as many as 60 $270 fines (which would be over $16,000)? I never knew driving through San Francisco could be so expensive.

I tend to get nervous when approaching an intersection, worrying about if the light will change and if I won't have time to either stop or to make it through soon enough. It was a little stressful going through so many intersections.


The road I was on, going through San Francisco, wasn't very steep. But it went gradually downhill for a mile or so, was level for a while, and then went gradually uphill for another mile. It must be pretty tough to bicycle in San Francisco. Seems like you'd almost have to be a world class athlete to handle the steep hills or the very-long gradual hills.

At one point I thought to myself, "I hope I'm never as serious as that about biking." I like casual, recreational bicycling. It's fun and relaxing. Biking through someplace like San Francisco seems more like running a marathon, something you can't just do casually.


Next I started getting close to the Golden Gate Bridge. I fumbled around trying to get my wallet out of my pocket, but as it turned out there wasn't any toll going Northward over the bridge.

It was a little foggy in the bay. When I started over the bridge, I could see the two huge red pipes that curve all the way up to one of the two towers. The pipes seemed to disappear into the fog high above. It wasn't until I got close to the base of the first tower that I could start to see it, getting glimpses of it through the fog. It was very impressive, the distinctive color and shape. I'd seen it before, but this was the first time I got myself up there on my own, so it felt like seeing it for the first time. I kept saying to myself, "This rocks!"


Then, after making it over the bridge, all that was left was to go another 10 miles up the coast to Muir Beach, where I was planning to stop to rest and have some lunch. I expected the last 10 miles to be pretty easy. It didn't quite turn out that way.

After 5 miles of relaxed, country driving, I found myself on mountain roads that were more narrow, and twice as winding, as anything I'd driven on before. At times the road was sloped at odd angles. It was a difficult drive, but I was surprised to see that I felt okay with it. There were a few times were I realized I wasn't driving quite well enough, and I was glad that I was on the inside (the side against the mountain wall) rather than on the outside. And part of me wondered if I'd be okay with the drive back.

Oddly enough, I didn't feel afraid. I was driving much more alertly and carefully than usual and was enjoying the challenge of it.


And then finally, Muir Beach, where I stayed for a couple hours. Grabbed some sandwiches from the trunk, and a full bottle of water, I walked out to the beach, sat down near the ocean, and had lunch.

After spending a while watching dogs chasing after tennis balls and sticks, I noticed some steep hills to the left, with a trail going up. After finishing the food and resting a bit more, I felt like climbing up to the top of the hill--which looked like it was around 500 feet high. It was an absurdly steep climb, but the view was worth the effort. All the people on the beach below looked like ants. I sat down near an overlook and looked out over the ocean. After a while, I figured it was time to head back home, while there was still enough daylight for the trip back.



Intermission

(tacky music playing in the background)

(people stretching their legs)



Driving Back

The 5 miles of mountain driving felt much easier on the way back. Having some time to rest rest probably helped. I was getting a better feel for how the car handles and was able to comfortably handle the sharp curves on the narrow road.

While driving through a tunnel on one side of the Golden Gate Bridge, the traffic was slow and most of the cars were honking their horns repeatedly. At first I thought there was a delay in traffic and people were getting annoyed and were honking angrily. But after another minute I noticed that most of the horn honkings sounded suspiciously like "shave and a haircut, two bits". One car would honk "shave and a haircut", and another one somewhere would honk "two bits" right after that. Again and again. So the people were actually enjoying driving through the tunnel and were having fun with it, which was amusing to see. Ah, the differences between San Francisco and NY City.


Right before going over the bridge, I took a quick peek at the map, to see what highway number to look for on the other side. I watched carefully for a sign for that highway number and turned at the right place. Things started to look a little different than on the previous trip. But the street signs said I was on the right highway; so I figured I must have remembered it wrong.

Gradually, I started to notice how a mile or two ahead the road seemed to go straight up at a 90-degree angle (that's literally how it looked from a distance), and I realized that I had taken a wrong turn in San Francisco of all places (possibly the second most difficult city to drive around in, in the US). Not only that, but the street I wound up on, of all the streets in the city, was Lombard, the famous steepest-hill in the city--the hill that's so steep, they had to make one section curve back and forth sharply so it'd still be possible for people to drive down it.

It was sort of amusing, of all the streets in all the cities of the country, to have accidently wound up right there (while trying carefully to avoid any of the difficult streets). As it turned out, I had followed the highway signs correctly, but I was mistaken when looking at the map earlier about what the highway number was, so I had gotten on the wrong highway.

I was lucky in a way, because Lombard was one of the few streets for which I had an idea of where it was and in what direction it went. I knew what direction I needed to go to get back to the correct highway.

I circled around one square block to get back on Lombard in the opposite direction. Fortunately none of the streets there were one way streets (the many one way streets in the city could have made it much tougher, if I'd been in another part of the city). I followed the signs for the correct highway number, and was once again retracing my steps through San Francisco, and recognizing some of the places and streets that I'd driven by before.

It was a relief to be back on the right road but also tiresome going through the 30 intersections again. The fog was pretty thick at the time, and I couldn't tell if it was twilight, or if there was still plenty of daylight left (didn't bring a watch). I wanted to get as close to home as I could before it got dark.

Driving on the 6 lane superhighway was much easier this time, and I was quickly getting close to the coast. The fog started to get even thicker, and I could see that twilight was starting, and I was still over an hour from home. Right about there is where the driving got really difficult.


It was very difficult to see the road in the fog, even with some daylight left. I quickly learned how much easier it is to drive behind someone. It helps give you more of an idea of where the road is. It wasn't easy driving in those conditions, but I felt like I was up to it and was doing fine. After night fell, it became much more difficult.

For the next 10 or 15 miles there wasn't anyone ahead of me, so there was nothing to help me locate the road. When there was no oncoming traffic, I could see about 100 to 200 feet in front of me, and that was okay. But when there were cars coming the other way, with their headlights shining towards me, it was almost impossible to see where the road was, even the reflective markers in the middle. I'd slow down each time, trying to not get too close to the oncoming cars, but also trying to not get too far away.

Of all the things about driving that day, this was the only thing that I wasn't okay with: driving on a curving highway near the edge of the coast in a thick fog at night. It seemed unreasonably difficult. There was one time when I panicked, one brief moment when I wasn't sure which way the road was going, guessed wrongly, and skidded just a bit to the right before quickly correcting myself. On that side was a three-foot-high embankment of dirt, and beyond the embankment was the ocean.

Aside from that one moment I was trying to take it all in stride and keep doing the best I could, but there wasn't much I could do to make it easier to find the road. Whenever there were no oncoming cars, I went faster, to cover more ground before the next car came. Then I'd slow down again, to almost half-speed until the cars passed by.


And then finally, when I got to Half Moon Bay, almost halfway to home, someone got on the road ahead of me, and I followed behind them, and followed some other people after that, until I got back to Santa Cruz. The worst of it was over as soon as I was able to stay behind people.

Following the other cars not only made it easier to see how the road twists and turns, and it also helped light up the road, like having a travelling street light 100 feet in front the car. The headlights of the other car offered a better look at the road ahead than my own headlights did, especially when there was oncoming traffic.

I couldn't believe how the car ahead of me was able to drive at full speed around occasional mild curves, even when there was oncoming traffic, how they were able to see the road. But I stayed close behind and was glad that the driving was easier than it had been.

The last part of the adventure was dealing with some tiredness and sleepiness. But with all the adrenaline that was still going through my system, this didn't turn out to be much of a problem. The second half of the trip home went pretty smoothly.



Graduating From the School of Absurd Driving Conditions

I had a clear feeling of accomplishment after all of that, and relief from having had enough strength and energy to deal with the unexpected difficulties. It felt like I'd just graduated from some kind of ridiculous driving school.

(c) 2000, Matthew K. Coughlin