A Tale of Two Highways

You can look at a map and get a sense of where you are, where your destination is, and what you might find on the way. But there are times that the map cannot express the wonder of the terrain.

You may have heard of California Highway 1. It runs up from north of San Diego, through San Clemente and Laguna Beach, through the Los Angeles area. It is the main way through Malibu, and runs on and off with 101 through Santa Barbara, separates and rejoins a time or two, then sets off at San Luis Obispo on its spectacular journey through the Big Sur region. It goes through Carmel and Monterey, around the bay to Santa Cruz, then along the coast into San Francisco. After crossing the Golden Gate Bridge with 101, it heads for the coast again, up through Sea Ranch, Mendocino and Fort Bragg, then joins 101 in time to let you off on the Avenue of the Giants, a wonderful road through small towns and huge redwoods.

I've been on much of that spectacular road at one time or another. We spent a nice day at the beach in Laguna Beach, watching volleyball and eating at El Pollo Loco. Driving through Huntington Beach, I saw the oil wells along the sand. We took the little ferry onto Balboa Island, and I foresaw the real estate collapse but did nothing to avoid it. We stopped and waded at the beach in Santa Monica, a few blocks from the fabled "Ivy" restaurant. I've also dined there, but we didn't see anyone famous. I mentioned my mom's cousin in a previous blog; she lives along Highway 1 in Malibu, in an old motel. Down from the highway are some oceanfront homes, including one occupied by a family who had a photo portrait taken by her husband, Wayne. Some family named Die-lan (oops! Bob Dylan).

Highway 1 takes you past the world-famous Hearst Castle at San Simeon. Of course, although my parents weren't along, we didn't stop. Tours were spendy, in a time when we couldn't play that. On a different trip, we drove down from Santa Cruz, past Monterey and Carmel, and down toward Big Sur (the small town on the map of that name). We stopped at a restaurant named Nepenthe, a well-known landmark with some celebrity claims to fame. What exquisite views from its balcony, what an expensive lunch! In the recent spate of terrible forest fires, the Big Sur fire caused the evacuation of many people in the immediate area of this wonderful spot; I don't know if it still stands.

Then there's the white sand beach in Carmel, and the marvelous streets of shops to walk past and save just oodles of money. Then, on another visit to Aptos, my daughter and I took Highway 1 from San Francisco, where it branches off the freeways, through Pacifica through Half Moon Bay and down to Santa Cruz. And, over 30 years ago, Wendy and I drove with her father down 1 from the northern end into San Francisco, finishing with the curl around Mt. Tamalpais.

The wonder of driving on Highway 1 is its adjacency to the Pacific Ocean. Sometimes you're right along the beach. Sometimes you're hundreds of feet up a cliffside where they had no business building a road. Sometimes you're 100 yards from the ocean but can't see it for the forest, or the grass-covered hills. You'll find yourself on a lovely curving embankment, or an even more lovely curving bridge over a stream emptying into the ocean. Several of the bridges on this road are in the pantheon of great bridges of the world. If you happen to miss a quick view, you can't really go back, as it's mostly two-lane and fairly busy, but have no fear: another soul-restoring view will come around the next bend. And hoo boy, are there bends!

On reflection, I think that I might have done Highway 1 the best way: not all at once, but in bits. Sometimes you just hit sensory overload, and need some time to absorb. Not, maybe, 33 years, but some buffer. I only promise that each of the places I mention is worth a look, and that there are many more views from this unbelievable road. If all your tax dollars could be spent to this wonderful effect...

Are there roads that can compare? I can speak for what is now Minnesota Highway 61, north from Duluth along the Lake Superior shore. In fact, if you keep going into Ontario, and around the whole of Lake Superior, you'll be surrounded by wonderful scenery, great campgrounds and some interesting bits of history. And if you make it back to Duluth, and get up into the town, you'll find some vistas that compare well to views of the Bay in San Francisco. Someone once described the Minnesota shore of Lake Superior as "more like the rock-bound coast of Maine than the rock-bound coast of Maine."

And we live near the Mississippi River, which means that we have a choice of US 61, on the Minnesota side, or Wisconsin 35, on our side, from the confluence of the Mississippi and St. Croix rivers to La Crosse, and beyond on the Wisconsin side. Especially in the green seasons, the roads give views of the bluffs, the fields, the river, the islands, the trains on the busy rail routes, the barge tows, the locks and dams, the cranes and eagles, in as happy a mixture of bucolic peace and transportation might as you can find.

Then, last summer, we found the match to California 1. I don't recall its number, as I was staring out the windhsield pretty much constantly. This was safe, as our dear friend Hasan was driving. The highway is in Turkey, along the Mediterranean coast. If I can find my Turkish highway map, or when Hasan comes to visit in a month or so, I'll put a number to this wondrous road.

If you find the city of Antalya on the southern coast of Turkey, about a quarter of the way east and just beyond a big bulge to the south, you'll be at the eastern end of the route. We had stayed at a lovely all-inclusive resort about an hour east of Antalya, eaten too much, gotten way too much sun and had a fine time. After dropping one of our friends' daughters at the Antalya airport, we headed out of town to the south and west.

This roadway must have made some manufacturer of dynamite rich, as in a number of places it was blasted out of the cliffside. Sometimes 10 or 20 feet above the water, sometimes 100 or 200 feet, or more, it was dogged in its attempt to stay along the water. In places it had to leave; then it went through tree-lined valleys or rich agricultural areas. We saw dozens of plastic-covered greenhouses growing tomatoes or other vegetables: in Turkey, wonderful fresh vegetables are a huge part of the cuisine.

Just before the light failed, we reached the city of Demre. This town is not large or remarkable, except for the historic town and ruins that run into the modern town. The old city was called Myra, and it goes back nearly 2,000 years. It had a kindly bishop in the 4th century, who made anonymous gifts to poor families. Uh, his name was Nicholas... we were too late that day, but there were many gift shops and a couple of shrines for tourists to enjoy this "home of Christmas" city.

We followed the last of the light, lost it, and finally came down a cliffside into a little coastal city called Kas. It's pronounced "cash." As we drove in, Hasan asked a motorcyclist carrying his small child where we might find lodging. He turned and led us to his family's "pension," read cheap but clean guest house, a few blocks from the harbor. His wife was English! We walked back to the harbor area, had a lovely dinner overlooking the water and the main square, and were well-pleased.

The next morning we were forced to deal with more rock-climbing, coast-hugging, 25-mph-curving scenery, until the road climbed away up the mountainside. For miles afterward, the water was still visible, with roads to some of Turkey's best-known coastal resorts. I remember thinking then that this road was the equal of California 1.

Now, after further review, I won't label any one as better than any other. Each road is a wonder, as are many others. I am learning about, and starting to talk to others about, the receiving of wonder from whatever source without rating it. How do you rank a sunrise against another one? At my age, I'm only glad that each one makes it, although at my age I begrudge the late start of the winter ones. I'm very lucky to have been to such beautiful places, with family and friends. I hope to get to many more, and maybe back to these again, and I hope that you can visit wonderful places and, more important, that you can find the pleasure in each.