Driving California 101

As I made my way from Crater Lake, Oregon to Albuquerque, New Mexico for Balloon Fiesta, I drove California Highway 101 instead of I-5; I have driven I-5 through Cali and Oregon too many times to count, both before and since owning Nellie. (Highway 101, not Highway 1, which is the Pacific Coast Highway. People often confuse these two California highways, especially in online forums. Do not take a large rig on the PCH, which hugs the ocean and has steep curves treacherous for large rigs. In fact, 45 foot buses and motorhomes are prohibited on large stretches of Highway 1. Know before you go!)

In Northern California, Highway 101 continues south from Washington and Oregon into redwood trees,

following the coastline for a while,

before turning inland through farm country, then back out again to the ocean. It has its own hairpin turns, although certainly not as steep for big rigs as the PCH. At times I drove 25 miles per hour, dodging redwood trees, or missing out on the beautiful coastal scenery while being tailgated by impatient sportscars. In Northern California there are few truck lanes or passing lanes on Highway 101, so take my advice and use the pullouts if you are delaying more than a couple of vehicles. It will bring your stress level way down.

Now that I have driven Highway 101 in a big rig, I realize that to choose between the 101 and I-5 is a Hobson’s choice; you can be stressed, or bored – take your pick. But if you are in a hurry, take I-5.

I went to college at UC Santa Barbara, so I was not entirely unfamiliar with Highway 101 in California, although I never drove farther north than San Luis Obispo. I’d forgotten those short 101 onramps with no hope of getting up to freeway speed, and unforgiving California drivers who don’t adjust their speed to allow you to get in. Add to the mix this time that I was 52 feet long, and it made for some harrowing merging.

To break up the monotony of making miles from Oregon to New Mexico, I spent three days in the Salinas/Monterey/Carmel area. Despite living in California all those years, I never visited these towns. I was on the trail of John Steinbeck, my literary hero, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Literature for “The Grapes of Wrath” in 1940, and the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1962.

Salinas

I pulled into the Elks Club directly across from the airport, which was preparing for the Salinas Air Show that weekend. Jets were practicing formations overhead, which practically gave me a heart attack more than once. It sounded like the world was coming to an end, right on top of my coach.

Salinas is a farm town. There is an endless smell of lettuce. Heavy trucks rumble through town stacked with boxes stamped with Dole, Foxy, and Market Fresh on the cardboard. Vehicles that look a lot school buses with porta-potties dangling from the back move the field hands to and from the crops. Larger-than-life murals by Salinas artist John Cerney pay homage to the farms and farmworkers all around town.

Salinas is home to all things Steinbeck, so I chose to stay there instead of the Elks in Monterey. Steinbeck was born in Salinas and is buried there, and the Steinbeck Center downtown houses a museum, theater, and meeting space.

“Once a journey is designed, equipped, and put in process, a new factor enters and takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys. It has personality, temperament, individuality, uniqueness. A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. Tour masters, schedules, reservations, brass-bound and inevitable, dash themselves to wreckage on the personality of the trip. Only when this is recognized can the blown-in-the glass bum relax and go along with it. Only then do the frustrations fall away. In this a journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.”

— John Steinbeck, “Travels with Charley”

Steinbeck‘s 1960 book “Travels with Charley” was a major inspiration for my decision to hit the road. I was over the moon to see Rocinante (inspired by the name of Don Quixote’s steed), the truck and camper he drove around the country with his poodle, Charley, eight years before Steinbeck died. Steinbeck‘s observations about the state of America, and Americans, was, as usual, astute and foretelling.

There are those who say that at least a portion of “Travels with Charley” is fiction, and Steinbeck was in such a state of poor health that he could not have completed the journey; even my beloved John Waters, who recently wrote a book about hitchhiking across America, has made this claim, but I choose not to believe it. I stood there staring at Rocinante, and tears welled in my eyes.

With novels like “The Grapes of Wrath,” “Tortilla Flat” and “In Dubious Battle,” Steinbeck wrote about the plight of the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden, and the disenfranchised; how I wish he was alive today to comment on the state of our nation. Ironically, “No Camping” signs were posted at several locations around the Center to deter the homeless, who are a large presence in downtown Salinas.

The Queen Anne style Victorian home where Steinbeck was born and lived as a child is owned and operated by the Valley Guild, a group of civic-minded women who share a common interest in cooking and showcasing the produce grown in Salinas Valley. The guild purchased the home from the Catholic Diocese of Monterey in 1973. Lunch is served Tuesday through Saturday.

Steinbeck died in New York City, but his ashes are buried in the Hamilton family plot (his maternal grandparents) in the Garden of Memories in Salinas, which has a very helpful wayfinding sign pointing the way to the plot.

Monterey

Monterey is about 20 miles from Salinas, and one afternoon I headed out with the dogs to see the town and tour Cannery Row. Monterey was abuzz with the Rennsport Reunion VI – a Porsche rally which included racing at Laguna Seca Raceway. It is the world’s largest gathering of Porsche racecars and drivers.

Steinbeck‘s novel “Cannery Row” was published in 1945. The character “Doc” was based on real-life Cannery Row resident Ed Ricketts, who studied marine life at this still-standing laboratory on The Row, close to the Monterey Aquarium.

A statue of Steinbeck, Doc, and the cast of eccentric characters of the Row has been erected in their honor.

(If you’re not in the mood to read the novel, John Huston filmed a passable version in the 1980s with Nick Nolte and Debra Winger.)

As an adult Steinbeck lived in Pacific Grove, between Monterey and Carmel, which is a tony suburb complete with an adorable main street with angle-in parking. But nothing beats the adorable-ness of Carmel-by-the-Sea.

Carmel

Carmel is a one-square-mile village of 3,500 residents, all of whom can afford to live there. Denizens include Clint Eastwood, who served as mayor in the 1980s.

In 1903, the Carmel Development Company invited school teachers and other “brain workers“ to the seaside. Sales were slow at first, but the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake brought many refugees, including artists and writers such as Mary Austin, Jack London, James Hopper, Herbert Heron and Sinclair Lewis.

Carmel celebrates its bohemian lineage; for example, there are no parking meters, street lights, or even addresses. Residents pick up mail at the post office – a welcome opportunity to catch up on the local gossip. In the age of Amazon and UPS, delivery drivers pride themselves on their on-time deliveries, armed only with directions like “fifth house on the east side of Torres Street, green trim, driftwood fence” or by the names adorning most houses, such as “Hansel” or “Sea Urchin.”

Another silly fact about Carmel: Any high heel over 2 inches and with less than 1 inch square base is technically against the law on the main drag, Ocean Avenue, but permits are available for free at City Hall.

If you have limited time in Carmel, a great way to see the village, get the lay of the land, and sample fine food and drink is with Carmel Food Tour. Along with sampling local honey, wine, chocolate and artisanal olive oils and vinegars, stops on the day of my tour included Anton and Michele, and Affina.

One of the most picturesque drives in the country is in Carmel; 17-Mile Drive runs through Pacific Grove to Pebble Beach.

For $10.25 you can drive along the Pacific coastline of coves and seascapes and the Del Monte forest with Monterey Pines and cypress, watching golfers flitting to and fro on carts on one of the many seaside courses.

Many reviewers on TripAdvisor complain the rich and privileged are taxing tourists for no good reason. Even if that is true, the drive is worth 10 bucks.

With this visit to Salinas I can now say I have traveled the entire Highway 101 through California, Oregon and Washington. It took me only 32 years to do it!